they, by definition work slower than fifty. A group doesn’t have downtime. They can work more efficiently.
The ship’s door opens as we approach. The staircase lowers, and then two men in those black uniforms emerge. They walk to the base of the stairs and move to the side. Either they’re going to guard the ship or they’re going to escort us.
They each extend a hand. The person on the right extends his right hand and the person on the left extends his left. It’s choreographed, formal, and immediately sets a tone.
Ilona was right to make me dress up—much as I hate it.
“You ready?” I ask Al-Nasir.
He nods, then takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders. We head into the ship, me first.
We’d argued about that. Everyone wanted me to go second, as if that makes a difference. If something goes wrong, I’m going to be in the same amount of trouble whether I hit the danger first or I hit it second.
Besides, my going first shows leadership, and that’s what I need to do here.
As I put my foot on the first stair, my heart rate increases. I am going inside a working Dignity Vessel.
The first time I went inside one, I had to lower myself through a hatch, with all of my suit lights on. I felt like a tourist then, nervous on her first dive, and Squishy warned me that I’d get the gids.
She was right.
If I were wearing a suit, I’d have the gids now.
I step inside the door into the airlock. It’s familiar and unfamiliar. We have this part of the ship on two different Dignity Vessels, but neither of those vessels work. Here there are lights in places I don’t expect them, circular lights on either side that are clearly assessing me and the kind of threat I pose.
Al-Nasir comes up beside me, and as he does, the door closes. The lights grow brighter.
The interior door opens, revealing a bright corridor and the lieutenant, standing just inside it. She’s wearing her black uniform, her hands clasped behind her back.
She’s nervous, too.
With the lights on and the environmental system working, the corridor seems bigger than it actually is. This one now holds me, Al-Nasir, the lieutenant, and two guards.
“Welcome,” she says, speaking a Standard so clear that it startles me.
“Thank you,” I say.
She smiles. “Please come with me.”
She’s practiced this part. That’s all right. I’ve practiced a few phrases too. I hope I can pull it off.
We walk too quickly through the corridor. I want to go slowly, like we would if we were diving.
I want to mark each intersection, take note of every turn. I want to examine doorways and the ceiling, and figure out exactly what the glowing panels are.
Our feet tap against the floor. The sound seems odd, dampened somehow, not at all what I’m used to when I go into one of the Dignity Vessels.
We go up two levels. I make a map in my head, compare it to what I know. We’re heading toward the cockpit, but I have a hunch we’re not going there. We’re going to one of two large rooms that I believe to be conference rooms. One is just off the cockpit, and I can’t imagine a captain bringing strangers there.
The other is one level down, and several meters away. That’s the one I would use, and as we turn right, that’s the one we’re headed to.
I don’t say anything. I’m too busy looking at things—the black walls, just like the walls in the caves; the writing that is missing in my Dignity Vessels; and the cleanliness that comes from constant maintenance.
None of the ships we’ve found have these smooth black walls. I suspect that beneath them is the gray metal we’re used to, with the rivets and the welded parts. This blackness is something new, or it’s something that doesn’t last when a ship loses power for centuries.
We reach the door to the conference room. The door is closed. There are no guards outside it.
The lieutenant stops and looks at me.
“The captain wants to have only four of us inside,” she says slowly.
“All right,” I say.
Then she swings the door open and waits until we go in.
I step in first.
The room is nothing like I imagined it to be. Only the dimensions remain the same as the rooms I’ve seen in the other two Dignity Vessels.
This room has a table down the center, so well polished that I can see my own reflection. A dozen