I suppose I should be grateful that Hudrin has, even if only slightly, become less antagonistic by the time we speak again. He is still surrounding himself with a number of uniformed aides, but all they do is sit behind him and nod occasionally in agreement. Flunkies is perhaps a better term to describe their purpose.

“I can’t see the point of giving you our weather data,” he tells me a little testily after I broach the subject of access. “Still, it’s not exactly classified information, so I can’t see any harm in it. I should ask why you need it, though?”

I’m quite happy to play his game by now. He seems to be quite put out by the fact that I’m not actually a national leader, even though we have tried to explain that we don’t really have one. I take a moment to appear to confer quietly with Melina at my side before answering his question. I don’t really need to talk to her, but it fits a pattern of behaviour that he seems to expect.

“I’m not at liberty to make that disclosure,” I tell him, “we are exploring a hypothesis and cannot make a determination without seeing as much data as possible.”

“I see. In that case, I shall take your request into consideration before our next call.”

“Very well. We should still be able to reach a more substantial conclusion with the data we are receiving from Nimheld.” Well, there’s never a reason to not make a little on a transaction like this. He’s not winning any points from me today.

His response is what best can be described as the local idiomatic version of “whatever!”. <Not too much!> Romulus tells me from inside my skull. Look, the man rubs me the wrong way and I’m struggling to keep my temper in check. He’s so officious and stiff that it’s hard sometimes to even concentrate on what he’s saying. I quickly reply to Romulus that I’m keeping it in check.

Now I’ve almost missed his next question and need to take a deep breath to concentrate again. “Are your intentions to simply stay in orbit for a while and then leave?” he asks.

“We are capable of doing either. As I told your northern counterpart earlier, we are not yet at the point where we can make that decision. I can confirm that our normal policy when approaching a new world would be to make orbit, explore from there with remote sensors and possibly landing probes and then, if considered safe, find a suitable landing site.”

“Your ship can land on the surface – but our radar scans tell us that it is huge.”

“It is certainly not small. It has the ability to land, but it would be a one-way trip. Once on the surface it would not be able to leave. It was built in space and doesn’t have the engines to make orbit from a gravity well so substantial.”

“Such a landing would leave you stranded on the surface. That is suicidal.”

Again I have to appear to speak with Melina while I question Romulus. “How far do you want me to go? I’m still not keen on lying to them, but it’s obvious they think we’re on the ship.”

<It was bound to come up eventually and we did show the technology in the initial contact video. They may have not noticed exactly what happened with Tianok. Tell him the truth,> Romulus replies after a moment where I’m sure there was some AI intercommunication. You get to recognise the uncharacteristic pauses if you deal with a group of them often enough.

“General, I must ask for your forgiveness. It was never our intention to make you think that we are actually on the Manannan. I am currently in a conference room on Earth. The ship is nominally unmanned.”

This finally gets more than a few nods out of his cabinet members – or whatever they consider themselves to be – with a round of whispers and looks of consternation. The AI at our end responsible for providing live translations for anyone monitoring our meeting is more than up to the task of pulling these whispered conversations out of the audio stream and subtitling them all. It’s hard not to laugh. At least the General has enough composure to remain stern-faced and silence his compatriots with a wave of his hand.

“Then how are we speaking without a delay of many years?” he finally asks.

“Do you have a background in physics?” I ask.

“No, but professor Menar here does. He will help us to understand.” He gestures to the man seated at the furthest left-hand end of the group who nods to me in acknowledgement. I’d hardly noticed him before, or the fact that he doesn’t wear a uniform.

“Well, I’m not one myself, but I can explain the basics succinctly. You did actually see the technology in use during our initial broadcast.”

“The shimmering doorway?” the professor asks incredulously. “I assumed it was just a video effect.”

“We first discovered how to use point-sized singularities for communications about 250 of our years ago – roughly 200 of your years. About a hundred years later, an ancestor of mine discovered how to make that singularity non-point. We now use these gateways ubiquitously, between towns, cities, continents, worlds and even spacecraft.”

“These are quantum-level effects?” the professor asks after a moment.

“Yes, but the mathematics is well beyond my level – actually, it is still beyond the level of all except our most senior experts. There is a considerable energy cost involved, but we have energy to spare.”

“This cannot actually be possible,” Hudrin suggests. He’s clearly out of his depth by now, but the professor is clearly smart enough and has advanced enough knowledge of the nature of the universe to realise that it is at least a theoretical possibility. They may not be using fission or fusion for power or weapons, but they at least understand the underlying principles.

“Forgive me, General,” he says politely. “It is at least possible, although I have no clue how to go about such an astounding feat. You say that this is commonplace?” he asks, turning back to me.

“Rob,” I say, turning to look over my shoulder at him for the first time in our interactions with the surface. “Can you grab a spare camera and follow me, please?”

“Of course, sir,” he replies and steps out of shot. Nice touch.

“General, with your permission, we will go for a short walk?” Even as I’m saying this, I’m getting a confirmation in my head from Romulus. He tells me that they’ve opened the currently dormant spare personnel gateway to the ship for me.

“The camera is live, Darren,” Rob calls from off-screen and then the feed switches to his viewpoint.

“This,” I tell my audience with a wave of my hand that Rob tracks with his camera, “is one of the conference rooms in our exploration headquarters.”

As we move out through the double doors and into the main corridor, I turn left towards the gateway. It’s one level up, but I’m determined to take the stairs, as they are on the outside wall of the building and have large windows.

“This place is called Cape Canaveral,” I continue as we get our first view of the campus. “It was originally a rocket-testing and launching facility and seemed like a fitting place for our headquarters because of that history.” As we get to the top of the stairs the view opens out to show the open parkland dotted with office buildings and some more distant accommodation blocks. We’re on the wrong side of the building to see the rocket garden display which is a real shame.

“Most of our staff live either on this campus or nearby. Now, this level has several gateways to ships in flight. They are not routinely powered on, but can be enabled at a moment’s notice.”

“Your star is bright and your location looks warm,” Hudrin admits. “The sky is a very strange colour though.”

“Yes, I understand that your atmosphere produces a greener tone, rather than our blue. Now, this is the gateway to Manannan. I’m going to apologise in advance for my lack of co-ordination. The ship is not under powered flight at present and we will be going into a free-fall environment. Rob will try his best to keep the camera steady, but it might get a bit shaky for a few moments.”

As always, it is possible to see the other side of the gateway through the shimmering haze of the singularity event horizon. This helps me to make sure I find good hand-holds when I pass through. I’m pretty well practiced at the transition from gravity to free-fall, but I do need a few moments to get my bearings and could wish that Manannan was still in powered flight.

Considering that he’s having to do this one-handed and had complained about even going to Verus, Rob does remarkably well. I’m pretty sure that I go off-camera for a few moments, but continuity is maintained and we’re soon both holding position with ease.

I’m still not ready to give away Nexi’s presence to these people, so I make my way over to one of the flight seats using the hand-holds and sit down at the console. There’s going to be no mistaking the fact that I’m floating in free-fall. It takes me just a moment to switch on the main viewscreen and show the forward view from the ship. Thermia is a small green and white smudge in the distance, but a flick of the control allows me to zoom and centre the image with ease.

“Anyone can fake such an image,” one of the people behind the General mutters.

“Rob, can you go over to that porthole and point the camera out?” I ask.

Rob merely nods, keeping me in the frame as much as possible while he makes his way over to one of several actual windows on the bridge of the ship. There are suitable small windows on either side of the main screen, looking out towards the front of the vessel. Rob points the camera at the glass and waits for the exposure to settle down.

I’ve been monitoring the feed, and the simultaneous view of the General and his committee using my implant and can see as the planet slowly comes into focus and exposure balances out.

“I won’t bore you with our return to Earth General,” I say from my seat. “Perhaps we can speak again tomorrow?”

“I… Yes, until tomorrow then,” the general manages after a long pause. His end cuts the communications channel a moment later.