Free Dark Beneath the Moon by Sherry D. Ramsey Page A

hadn’t given me an alternate plan B.
    “One sec . . . the wormhole seems to have an irregular mass node. It’s causing the readings to fluctuate, where most wormholes remain steady.”
    I frowned. “Not something that should stop us, though, right? I’m sure there are a few similar wormholes around Nearspace.”
    “No, it’s nothing serious, but worth noting. I’m sure Admiralo Mahane would have warned us if it were likely to cause a problem.”
    “Unless it’s a new development.”
    “No, I’d say this is intrinsic to the wormhole’s nature, or the result of something that happened to it a long time ago. It means that the wormhole’s mass node reading varies from point to point along its length, where usually it’s a single, unvarying number.” She flashed a grin. “Rei might have to work a little harder to keep the ride smooth, that’s all.”
    Rei snorted. “After piloting the Split when Hirin took his attack, there’s no wormhole that scares me anymore.”
    I shuddered, thinking of that experience, still sickeningly fresh in my mind. We’d come close to slipping off the safe side of that unusual wormhole into the unknown, and Hirin had suffered a heart attack. Not a skip I wanted to remember, or was ever likely to forget, no matter how long my mother’s nanobioscavengers allowed me to live.
    “Any idea what’s causing the anomaly, Yuskeya?”
    “None.”
    Viss spoke up over the ship’s comm. “We don’t know anything about the star system beyond this wormhole, Captain. It could also be caused by some type of radiation we’re not familiar with, leaking through the wormhole’s terminal point on the other end. Or some other force working on the wormhole from that system.”
    I noticed he addressed his remarks to me, not to Yuskeya, and stifled a sigh. “Thanks, Viss, that’s a reasonable notion. Okej, folks, let’s take a step into the unknown.”
    “I wonder if this is what wormhole explorers feel when they find a new one,” Baden said. “I’ve got a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach.”
    “That’s fear, Baden,” Rei said smoothly. “I suppose you’d have us believe you don’t recognize the sensation.”
    “I’d never claim that, dearest Rei,” he retorted. “Not after flying with you at the helm for this long.”
    “All right, children, settle down,” Hirin admonished, “or you’ll be going to bed with no supper.”
    “You’d better listen to him. He means it,” Maja said with a grin.
    I rolled my eyes. As if she’d ever been sent to bed without supper!
    “Pipe down, everyone, I’m calling our guest to join us on the bridge,” I said. “I’d like to maintain our civilized facade for a little longer, if possible.”
    “No need to call, I am here,” Cerevare said, entering from the main corridor and crossing to sit in an empty skimchair. “And I believe I know this crew pretty well by now,” she added with a lupine smile. Today she wore an emerald-green shirt with billowy black pants, as well as the bright, ever-present sash. I didn’t know if all Lobors favoured such intense colours, but Cerevare certainly did. Human chairs not being made to accommodate the different proportions of Lobors’ legs to their torsos, she always unselfconsciously tucked her legs up under her when she sat, so they wouldn’t dangle. At first it had seemed too casual, but we were used to it now. I’d already made a note to buy a Lobor-style skimchair and one for the galley at the first opportunity. I’d never had a Lobor crew member, so I’d never really considered it before; now that seemed close-minded on my part.
    “Excellent,” I said. “And to answer your question, Baden, I don’t think we can equate this with exploring a new wormhole. At least we know what’s beyond this one, even if it’s only a general idea. We know it actually has an ‘other side’ and that we won’t be stuck forever in a closed-point singularity. We know we won’t emerge in a fatal