She smiled and shook her head. “No,” she said, “I don’t believe it ever does.”

I sighed, envious of her quiet self-assurance. The last time I’d commanded a ground action, George Walker had died, ripped apart by the razor-sharp barbs of beasts whose existence I hadn’t thought to determine in advance.

“Do you have any advice?”

The older woman’s shrug was eloquent. It spoke of duty and sacrifice, and the ineluctable futility of trying to second-guess fate. “Just try not to get us all killed.”

Forty-Four: Nod

FORTY-FOUR

NOD

Prepare for combat, they say.

Prepare for damage.

So I gather tools.

Wear armour.

Breathing masks for all my hands.

Fire extinguishers.

Druff fixed ships before humans tamed fire.

Druff always serve.

Druff serve everybody.

Always more to fix.

Always more work to be done.

Work, then sleep.

Sleep, then work.

Nobody else fix fusion tubes. Nobody else keep gravity working. Nobody else keep air flowing through ship. Water flowing through pipes. Fuel flowing through reactor.

Work, because work is what we have.

Sleep, because sleep is what we earn.

Work, then sleep.

Dream of World Tree.

Dream of George.

We serve ships as we serve World Tree.

We serve because we always serve.

In peace, in battle.

We work because we always work.

Keep everyone alive by keeping World Tree alive.

Keep everyone alive by keeping ship alive.

We serve, then rest.

Rest forever in roots of World Tree.

Forty-Five: Trouble Dog

FORTY-FIVE

TROUBLE DOG

As soon as Captain Konstanz gave the go-ahead, I calculated a vector that would take us within a few hundred kilometres of the surface of the Brain—close enough to drop the shuttle and cover it during its descent, while still retaining enough altitude and velocity to evade incoming fire.

I brought my engines online and began to accelerate, knowing the fusion-bright glare of my exhaust wouldn’t reach the inner system for another five and a half hours—long after I’d arrived in person.

Strange to think that, when I arrived, I’d be able to look back with a telescope and see myself here, in the past. Strange, but not a matter for concern. There would be no paradox. Observation of visible light didn’t violate causality any more than rewatching a movie affected the lives of the actors involved, or taking a photograph robbed the subject of their soul. Only an idiot would think it would. Planes didn’t cease to exist when they outpaced the sound of their engines, and starships didn’t break the universe when they overtook their own image.