The Orphaned Worlds (68 page)

Greg uttered a low whistle. ‘Would ye credit it! So that’s what I’ve been feeling since I got up this morning – lucky!’

The others chuckled, then grasped their seats as the dirigible surged forward and up. Minutes later the dirij levelled off, course set for Giant’s Shoulder.

‘What’s with the extra artillery?’ Greg said, indicating the Brolt weapon Vashutkin had carried aboard.

The Rus shrugged. ‘Insurance. No such thing as too many guns on an operation like this. What about you, Gregory, what’s your weapon of choice?’

It was Gregory’s turn to shrug. ‘Usually a Gustav handgun …’

YOU WILL NOT REQUIRE ANY OF THESE WEAPONS
MY ABILITIES WILL PROTECT YOU

He laughed, ignoring Vashutkin’s puzzled look, and leaned on a crooked arm, wishing for a good stiff shot of whisky. Outside a nearby grimy oval window, he could see a vast expanse of the Forest of Arawn’s eastern marches, a sea of treetop foliage, details rendered ashen in the meagre light from the night sky’s starmist, yet brightened here and there by ulby roots. His thoughts turned inward, thoughts dwelling on those he loved and those who might be lost in one way or another. Chel, Rory, Catriona, Uncle Theo, and what of Kao Chih and his mission to save his people? He sighed, held up one blue-veiled hand, turned it, studied it. He had never imagined that this conflict could widen so radically and become so complex and at times bizarre.

Our enemies seem to multiply and get stronger,
he thought.
While our abilities seem to shrink
…

ACCIDENTS ARE INEVITABLE
THE COSMOS DEPENDS ON THEM

You’re hearing my thoughts
…
aren’t you? No chance of privacy in my own head, then!

YOUR ANXIETY OVER THE MACROCONFLICT WAS CLEARLY STATED