Night would be falling, leaving the sunken research station in darkness. Not that the intelligent slime that had taken the place really slept. She wondered if the mutated children down there did. They’d been human once, after all. How much of that humanity was left? How much taken over by the slime’s TriNA?

Wonder if we’ll ever know?

She pondered the ramifications of the disaster that had doomed the first maritime expedition to study Donovan’s oceans. Donovan wasn’t Earth. That had to be understood. There were places where humans might never dare to venture. The oceans might be just such a place.

The Maritime Unit also served as a reminder that humans might be full of hubris, but Donovan had its own agenda. She need look no farther than the nearest mirror—and the sight of her scars—to be reminded of that.

In the forward window, the dot that was Vixen grew larger, the survey ship’s navigational lights blinking. Vixen always amazed her. Originally listed as missing, it had popped back into Donovanian space after a fifty-year transition from Solar System. The kicker was that to Vixen’s crew, the trip had seemed instantaneous. Faced with the prospect of making a return trip, the crew had opted to conduct a survey of the Capella star system, mapping and exploring all of the planets. To date they had finished mapping and reporting on most of the inner planets.

Some of the crew had spaced back to Solar System on Ashanti, but for most—with everyone they had loved back home dead of old age—the Capella System had given them new lives and purpose.

As her shuttle pulled even, Kalico could see the pristine hull, the crew torus, the giant reactor pod, and the fuel tanks gleaming. Call it ironic. Built over one hundred and twenty years ago, Vixen looked new. Freelander, built a decade ago, was a decrepit derelict. Traveling through inverted symmetry didn’t come without risk, not to mention a great deal of uncertainty.

“Docking,” Makarov called, as he maneuvered the A-7 into the unoccupied shuttle bay on Vixen’s starboard side.

“Shifting ballast to accommodate your mass,” came the reply from Vixen’s ship’s AI. “Proceed with docking. Matching rotation to your approach.”

Kalico marveled at the skill with which Makarov eased the shuttle into the bay. The illusion was that Vixen was lowering itself down onto the shuttle. She watched the bay slip around them. Then the slight bump as Makarov eased them against the grapples. A clank and shudder.

“We have lock,” Makarov announced. “Hard dock.”

“Hard dock. We have lock,” Vixen replied. “Extending airlock. Seal. We have hard seal. Umbilical attached.”

“Roger that, Vixen. Thank you for your help.”

“Welcome aboard,” the ship told them. “Captain Torgussen is waiting at the hatch.”