And, as was their way, they left their marks in the hull of the ship, the ghostly, frozen shell that surrounded that speck of brilliance.

When the ship had gone the quagmites dispersed, ever hungry, ever resentful, searching for more primordial heat.

On Port Sol, Luru Parz turned to her cousin with a quiet satisfaction.

“I knew they would survive,” she said. “And in the technique they have stumbled upon I see a glimmer of opportunity. I must go.”

“Where?”

“Earth.” Luru Parz padded away, her footsteps almost silent.

Chapter 5

If you grew up in Arches, meeting your own future self was no big deal.

The whole point of the place was that from the moment you were born you were trained to fly FTL starships. And everybody knew that an FTL starship was a time machine. Most people figured out for themselves that that meant there might come a day when you would meet a copy of yourself from the future—or the past, depending which end of the transaction you looked at it from.

Pirius, a seventeen-year-old ensign, had always thought of meeting himself as an interesting trial to be faced one day, along with other notable events, like his first solo flight, his first combat sortie, his first sight of a Xeelee, his first screw. But in practice, when his future self turned up out of the blue, it turned out to be a lot more complicated than that.

The day began badly. The bunk bed shuddered, and Pirius woke with a start.

Above him, Torec was growling, “Lethe, are we under attack?—Oh. Good morning, Captain.”

“Ensign.” Captain Seath’s heavy boot had jolted Pirius awake.

Pirius scrambled out of his lower bunk. He got tangled up with Torec, who was climbing down from the upper tier. Just for a second, Pirius was distracted by Torec’s warm, sleepy smell, reminding him of their fumble under the sheets before they had fallen asleep last night. But soon they were standing to attention before Seath, in their none-too-clean underwear.

Seath was a stocky, dark woman, no more than thirty, and might once have been beautiful. But scar tissue was crusted over her brow, the left side of her face was wizened and melted, expressionless, and her mouth drooped. She could have had all this fixed, of course, but Seath was a training officer, and if you were an officer you wore your scars proudly.

Astonishingly, Torec was snickering.

Seath said, “I’m pleased to see part of you is awake, Ensign.”

Pirius glanced down. To his horror a morning erection bulged out of his shorts. Seath reached out a fingernail—bizarrely, it was manicured—and flicked the tip of Pirius’s penis. The hard-on shriveled immediately. Pirius forced himself not to flinch.

To his chagrin, everybody saw this.