A second dome had been deflated by the time Ty got back to the surface camp, which had been set up in a shallow crater a short distance from the mouth of the shaft itself. He let go of the spider-mech and allowed himself to drift slowly downwards, his boots kicking up a tiny puff of ice and dust. Then he made his way over to where Nancy and Cesar were working hard at packing the first dome back into its crate, under the harsh glare of an arc light. The Mjollnir was visible far overhead in the starry blackness, like a black and grey stick thrown high into the air, and which had never come down.

The frigate had taken a beating on the trip out, and it had not taken long for Ty to realize there was a very good reason why almost all the Shoal’s superluminal craft comprised hollowed-out moons and adapted asteroids, since contact with the superluminal void put enormous stresses on the hull of any craft equipped with a faster-than-light drive.

The Magi starships were self-healing, but the Mjollnir wasn’t built from the same pseudo-organic material. Along with the relatively few other human-built craft that had so far been converted to superluminal travel, the frigate was instead forced to undergo lengthy and difficult repair stops at the end of each and every jump it undertook. Outer hulls became corroded and damaged. Drive-spines required such constant repair and maintenance that onboard fabrication engines had to work around the clock to keep up with demand. While Ty and Nancy had been exploring the clade-world’s passageways and caverns, Martinez and his crew had been striving to get the Mjollnir in full working order for the trip home.

One of the two helmeted figures now glanced up, and Ty’s suit automatically projected an icon floating beside that figure, identifying it as Nancy.

‘Merrick’s swarm is on its way here,’ she told him without preamble. ‘Mjollnir’s on full alert, and Martinez wants us out of here within the hour.’ Ty was close enough now to see the worried expression through her visor. ‘I’m sorry, Nathan. We did our best.’

‘How do you know it’s on its way?’ he asked.

‘The reconnaissance probes we sent out,’ explained Cesar. ‘One of them picked up a lot of drive-signatures no more than thirty light-years from here.’

‘Drive-signatures?’

‘Sure,’ said Nancy. ‘Remember the briefing?’

Ty made an exasperated noise. ‘There were endless briefings. Care to remind me?’

‘Superluminal ships produce gravitational anomalies every time they enter or depart normal space,’ Cesar continued. ‘The probe’s got tach-net monitors that can pick up short-range fluctuations propagating through superluminal space. So we know something just turned up.’