It is only when she sees globules of blood in the air that she realises she is bleeding from somewhere.

“Captain?”

“Go ahead.”

“Your hole is plugged.” Joké giggles.

“Joké, check carbon dioxide levels. Are you getting CO2 narcosis?”

“Naaah. It’s the thought of hole-plugging. Besides, I took my suit off.”

“Why?”

“I did a spacewalk… it doesn’t matter. There is one other thing.” She touches her head and the hand comes away bloody.

“Go on.”

“I might have a small skull fracture.”

Joké loses consciousness.

Chapter Thirteen

Lagos Bridge: Awe, Beko

Awe settles into the seat and takes a deep breath. He is brewing a headache and would rather be doing anything else. The iced tea he brought along stands on the table in front of him, untouched.

“Connect IFC, Lagos,” he says.

“Connected. Are you comfortable?”

“Yes, thank you.” He knows the AI’s personality changes depending on whose IFC connects, but he finds her voice pleasant, lulling even. “I want to review the Ragtime service, please.”

“Of course.”

“What was the bridge path from Earth?”

“Point of origin, Earth; then Daedalus, Crucial, Waikiki, Corazon, Brighton, Goldsmith, Oya, Harvest, Shango, Lagos. From Lagos to near-planet orbit on Bloodroot.”

“Were there any complaints, cautions, notifications or sneezes from any of the other bridges?”

“None.”

“Not even Shango? They whine about everything.”

“Not this time.”

“Interesting. All right, show me the arrival.”

“Do you want the raw data, or do you need visual accompaniment as well?”

“Visuals, from the convergence. Panoptical view, please.”

“Onset on my mark. Mark.”

Awe steeples his hands.

It starts in empty space – or, rather, space without human-made objects. Bridges are not permanent structures. A signal arrives from the nearest bridge – in this case, Shango – and Space Station Lagos bounces the signal to the Dyson swarm around the star.

Awe observes eight of the Dyson elements break off, fully charged, and occupy the bridge zone. They form a crude circle and each forges links with the adjacent element. This takes hours but Lagos AI has sped it up for Awe.

Once they have claimed relativistic space, the tunnel forms between Lagos and Shango. A communications satellite slips through first, as a test. When it arrives on the Lagos side, an all-clear signal is transmitted.

The circle becomes opaque with light, and after five hours the starship Ragtime emerges. Lagos is its final hop. Awe thinks it’s ugly, with no streamlines. It looks like an insect, with the solar arrays looking like wings. A dragonfly, maybe. Awe has never seen an actual dragonfly, but photos and videos bring the picture home. He thinks the ships they build on Lagos are better-looking.

“Lagos, Lagos, this is Ragtime. All systems nominal,” says the ship AI.

“Ragtime, this is Space Station Lagos. How was your flight?”

“Uneventful.”

“And your cargo?”

“Asleep, intact.”

“Good to hear, Ragtime. Please transmit telemetry for comparison and power down for servicing.”

“Will do, Lagos Bridge. See you on the other side.”