As we continue to climb, the horizon transforms from a shapeless line to a glowing arc. The atmosphere blankets the surface, shielding Undil from the desolation of space.

I watch the altitude gauge: 24.3 miles, then 57.9 miles, then 99.1 miles. Higher…and higher…and higher.

A sensation overcomes my entire body, a lightness that trickles through my limbs and stomach and head. Something brushes my neck: Glacia’s hair. It’s floating around her, suspended in the air. In fact, I can feel my own hair lightly tugging at my scalp.

“Normal flight pattern achieved,” the pilot’s voice says through the intercom when we reach 250 miles. “Smooth encounter with the Threshold Space Fleet expected. Opening observation panels.”

Panels on the ceiling and walls slide back, and both Glacia and I let out gasps of wonder. The view is more spectacular than the display makes it out to be. Dozens of space stations hang above Undil, each attached to a harbor bay. Flocks of transports drift between them. Sometimes a gate opens and transports disappear inside as others zoom past, en route to a different dock. Domed observatories stick out from the top center of every station, and red lights blink along the outermost edges.

The Undil Embassy crest adorns the sides of the main twin engines. Near the front, the name of each station is engraved behind its respective Bridge. We glide along the length of the Libration, zoom toward the Roche, drop below the belly of the Van Allen, and then ascend a few hundred yards. Here we come face-to-face with General Orcher’s pride: the Ember. It’s attached to the top port of a harbor bay. The other stations in Orcher’s fleet—the Doppler, the Blazar, and the Drake—hang from the other three ports.

“Fifteen stories,” the officer sitting on the other side of Glacia tells us. “Whole thing is three hundred yards end-to-end. Those are twin-warp engines, capable of achieving light speed in less than twenty hours—and that doesn’t include the Hyper Drives. All developed at Gray Wall, of course.”

As our transport approaches the Ember, a gate opens near the bottom of the station. Silver light washes over us, and the moment we pass through the opening, Glacia’s hair drops back around her shoulders and weight returns to my body.

The transport lands in its designated slot. Other transports touch down around us and the gate seals again. The cockpit hatch slides back and Officer Remmit and Victoria walk through.

“Braces off,” Officer Remmit says.

As Glacia and I detach the restraints, he reaches into a pouch on the wall and grabs packets of liquid from inside it.

“Feeling good?”

I stretch my arms and nod. “Wasn’t bad at—”