The rest of the lower deck is devoted to the hyperdrive system and ‘scoop’ that channels tachyon particles from space into the vent-style gills located along the ship’s wings, essentially ‘pulling’ the Balam through the cosmos.

Embedded in every bulkhead, ceiling, and deck are artificial gravity node emitters, set to normal Earth gravity. Inertia dampeners protect flight crew operators from possible injuries caused by sudden acceleration, deceleration, or rapid changes in direction. Voice controls in each room can adjust ambient light, humidity, and temperature controls.

The upper deck is constructed to assure passenger comfort and survival. Hydroponic vats, biological waste treatment converters, and chemical storage containers needed to produce crops are located in an aft hangar, along with storage bays and a series of ‘autophysician’ pods that look like sarcophagi, something Dominique remains too claustrophobic to use. A main corridor leads forward into the centrally located ‘habitat,’ a 230-foot-long chamber that contains a kitchen, bathing pods, toilets, workstations, virtual reality facilities, exercise, and sleeping pods.

The onion-shaped control center is located upper deck forward. Escape chutes leading to smaller landing/escape pods are situated throughout the vessel.

Dominique Gabriel opens her eyes. The padded ‘curtains’ covering the portals in her sleep chamber have parted, allowing filtered sunlight to brighten the compartment. Reaching across her body, she unfastens the Velcro straps of her sleep suit, which cause her to adhere to the wall.

The dull headache returns the moment she floats free.

Dominique has been traveling in space for two days, twenty-two hours, and eighteen minutes. She has been suffering repeated bouts of spacesickness and an aching lower back, anxiety, sleep deprivation, an inability to focus, and an almost constant dull headache.

Her diet of freeze-dried rations has only added to her irritability.

‘Computer, activate gravity mats.’

A moment of nausea as her Earth weight returns, landing her awkwardly on both feet. She groans as the menstrual pain returns.

‘Computer, locate my son.’

JACOB GABRIEL IS ASLEEP IN HIS POD.

Dominique enters the habitat where her son is sleeping. During her first ‘night’ in space, she had tried to sleep in a similar pod, but the coffinlike bed was too confining.

Hearing a muffled scream, she rushes over to one of the sleeping pods, where her son is in the throes of a terrible nightmare.

‘Jake?’ She bangs on the tinted plastic lid, then struggles to open it.

Inside, her son thrashes violently, as if being attacked by a swarm of bees.

Dominique yanks open the cover, grabbing him by his wrists. ‘Jake—wake up! Jacob!’

The azure-blue eyes flash open—absolutely terrified. He grips his mother’s biceps, bruising them within his powerful fingers.

‘Jake, it’s okay … Jacob, you’re hurting me … Jacob!’

‘Huh?’ He gazes up at her and stops thrashing.

Dominique helps him out of the pod. ‘Are you all right?’