His wife and daughter were now aboard, and he was pleased to see the admiration on their faces. After his rough-and-tumble early years, Berndt was glad he could finally give his daughter something to look up to. He had earned it. The new skymine was even more productive than expected.

His only problem was how to shake off the superstitious dread that disaster was bound to strike soon.

All Roamers had been uneasy since the destruction of the Golgen skymine, and further disturbed to learn of the alien attack on the Hansa moons at Oncier. Even with vigilant scouts watching all the unrecorded Roamer facilities, no one knew exactly what to look for—or what actions had provoked the devastating attacks in the first place.

Hearing someone else ascending the metal ladder, he turned to see his daughter Junna hurrying up to the bridge deck. The twelve-year-old was a captain in training and loved to watch the facility in operation. Waving a greeting to Junna, Berndt turned to the still-waiting engineer, finally realizing what Clarin wanted. “All right, you’ve done everything my grandmother asked you to do. Pack up your things and be ready to return to Rendezvous with the next cargo escort. Our holding tanks are already eighty percent full, and the escort pilot should come to transport them to the distribution center within a few days. Go follow your Guiding Star.”

Smiling broadly, Eldon Clarin thanked him and hurried off.

Junna stood next to her father at the arm of the chief’s chair. When she was younger, the girl had actually sat on the arm, imitating her father’s commands. Now she just stared out at the clouds, looking very mature. Berndt thought his daughter would become a fine skyminer one day, perhaps without the wasted years of rowdy misbehavior that her father had exhibited.

“Is that a storm?” Junna pointed toward an intense knot of clouds. “Looks like it’s changing fast.”

Lights shone from deep below, flickering flares that spread outward in a bloom of ripples. The clouds began to move like maelstroms somehow cutting against the jet stream.

“Much too fast for a storm. Good work spotting it, though, Junna.” He reached over to pat the girl’s shoulder, then raised his voice to the technicians. “So, what is it?”

“Solid objects moving upward,” one said. “Not part of normal weather patterns. It’s rising directly beneath us.”

Berndt felt a chill, thinking suddenly about Golgen. Was this what Ross Tamblyn had seen, moments before the attack? Maybe Berndt was just spooked, but he would not let the same thing happen here. “Sound emergency bells!”

“Sir?” the meteorologist asked.

“Do it! I’m not taking a chance.” Junna looked alarmed, but Berndt paid attention only to the changing phenomena in the clouds below. “If I’m wrong, you can make your jokes. If I’m right, you can thank me.”