She looked to her left, where Earther vid teams were dressed in tunics of gold. They stood out in their high hard collars, shiny elastic wrists. Every turn of Earther high fashion seemed to her worse than the last one. These people looked like performers she had seen once, Cossack acrobats.

Waiting for her to tumble.

She ritually gave her parachute straps a tug. Drogue, yes. Main, snug.

No reason to abort there, none at all….

Ding. Time.

She thought about the Library and how safe it was, just her own comfortable office… and unbuckled her harness.

Fraq did the same, eyes glittering as he followed her every move. Has he done this before? He had said so, back on his world. Still… Is he feeling fear?

The golden eyes told her nothing.

She stood up. For the human species. Damned if she would let Fraq go first.

She took a deep breath and leaped.

2.

No sensation of movement. Weightless. She had already trained to suppress her falling reflexes so she could simply watch as the world hung there, ignoring her. Only after ten breaths—she refused to look at the timer—did she see any slight movement. The world was edging toward her.

Getting interested… in getting fed….

And Fraq—? She turned her head slightly to find him, and the drag of rushing air tugged at her. A soft whoosh told her she was moving even if her eyes did not.

There was Fraq. Behind her and to her right. She relaxed. This was not a race, but it didn’t hurt that she was ahead. Slightly.

She banked her arms a bit and felt a slight spin. Corrected it by moving her arms oppositely. In control, just as her training said. No spins, if she reacted fast enough. No tumbles, no injuries.

She kept her head looking down and peered to both sides. She felt prickly heat building in the suit and saw rippling air to the sides. Shock refraction. Rattling built along her legs and arms, humming into her body.

The atmosphere was playing her like an instrument.

A wave of fear swept through her. But then it tickled. She barked out a laugh. Laughter is just a slowed-down scream of terror. Where had she read that…?

The sky brightened and she stole a glance at her other meters in her right eye. Speed nearly a thousand kilometers an hour and climbing fast. A burr of sound coursed through her body. Wind resistance plucking at her.

Whispers sang shrill past her head.

The horizon flattened, losing its silky curve. Stars glimmered, bright and true, then faded. Blue fog gathered around her and the puffy clouds fled sideways. She hung in a vast space that whipped by her. Below was… purple.

Something shot by her. Big. Fraq.

He described a helix wrapping around her, zooming past, and then made a complicated move with his arms outstretched. A deft, birdy maneuver. He slowed, hovered so she could overtake. Then he waved his wing-arms in the suit—which gave him darting moves. He arced away, spinning his body.