Gail knelt as the girl ran over.

"I missed you, Mum."

She threw her arms around her daughter, holding her close as though not to let her so far away again.

"Oh, Amy, I missed you too." She held the girl tight for what seemed like ages, until suddenly letting her out of the embrace and looking into her eyes. "How do you even recognise me? You were two when ... Mummy last saw you."

"I don't call you Mummy. That's for babies." Amy unzipped a pocket in her coveralls, taking out a small pendant. A tear rolled down Gail's cheek as she watched little fingers open the locket, surprised by their dexterity. "You look just like your picture, Mum."

Gail's eyes were streaming as she gestured for the other children to come over. Without a word Marcus and Emma joined the huddle, trying to enjoy the company of the mother they'd missed for so many years. Eventually she let go of them, stood slowly and tried to compose herself, reminding herself that she was still on duty and there was much to be done.

"Emma, could you look after Amy and Marcus for a while? Your father and I are going for a walk; we have some catching up to do."

Emma nodded, taking Amy's hand and steering her and Marcus back into the apartment. Jack stepped out, walking over the threshold until the sensor gave up on him and let the door slide shut.

"So, uh, Gail, what are you doing here?"

She glared at him.

"This is my space station. Your turn."

Jack shrugged.

"We were just sort of passing by."

"You don't 'pass by' here! We're in the termination shock: this is the only permanent habitation for billions of miles!"

He nodded vaguely.

"I got in some trouble with some debts and things. Had to find somewhere cheaper to live, and get new work. So I got the ship, got a slot with a courier agency. It suits me nicely."

Gail was fuming.

"It suits you, perhaps, but what about them? What are you doing about school? When was the last time they saw anyone their own age? Hell, when was the last time they saw anyone who wasn't you?"

Jack shook his head, spreading his arms in the hope that warm and open body language would calm her down.

"School isn't a problem; it's all available digitally. Emma is taking her exams this year and Marcus looks like he might be able to do them early."

"And what about contact with other people?"

He shook his head.

"I'm not thrilled with it, Gail. Earth was great, but I just couldn't afford to live there. I had to do what I did; they need food on the table."

Gail started to nod, but quickly stopped herself.

"Jack, you won custody because I was going to Mars: somehow I doubt the judge would have appreciated you selling up and dragging the children across the system like this. Why didn't you contact me?"

"I tried. I sent mail to your work address but I never got any response."

In the pause he seemed a little relieved, almost smug. She pounced on it as soon as she saw it.

"Don't think that absolves you! If my work was blocking your mail it was because of the way you wouldn't leave me alone when we first separated."

He nodded reluctantly.

"Yes, I know, and I'm sorry about all of that. Look, we're here, and to be honest maybe we need a little help. What can I do?"

She sighed.

"Stay for a while, if you have the time. We can work out what we're doing about the kids. I might be able to get transferred to Earth."

Jack nodded.

"We have plenty of time. I need to wait here to make my delivery, then I've got no more bookings."

From her idle nodding and passive awareness, Gail suddenly snapped to attentiveness.

"Wait for a delivery? You're not delivering to us?"

He shook his head casually.

"No. I've got orders to wait here for a small ship. Which reminds me, I should get back to the Danube and make sure the sensor alerts are still in place."

"No need. You're coming with me."


She keyed the code for the door to the operations room, letting Jack step through first. Within moments the first officer was on his feet and in Jack's way.

"I'm sorry, Sir; this area is off limits to visitors."

"It's OK, Lieutenant, he's with me. Any change on our floating friend?"

Priors returned to his station, took a final look at his main monitor before he shook his head.

"No, Miss Turner."

Jack leant in close. Gail didn't wait for what he intended to whisper.

"Of course. You didn't expect me to be Mrs. Woods forever, did you?" She raised her voice again, speaking normally as she walked over to Mister Priors' display. "Put its signature on one of the big screens, please."

A large slab of wall lit up with a black that wasn't quite, then quickly filled with graphs, tables and small three-dimensional representations of the ship. Jack pulled out a tiny pocket computer and brought up his assignment brief.

"Yes, that's the one. How long has it been here? It's not due for another day."

"It arrived a couple of hours ago. No field, incredible thrust and no heat emission besides the engines; we wonder if there is some cryogenic storage aboard."

Priors nodded.

"Almost certainly there is, and if the crew didn't expect to be here until tomorrow, perhaps they'll wake then."

"Perhaps; we'll worry about that then. For the moment, Mister Priors, I have a declaration for the record: I have family aboard. I would have given more notice, but I only just found out myself." The Lieutenant made some quick notes at his computer. "My daughters Emma and Amy and my son Mark."

Priors finished that note then looked pointedly at Jack.

"Is that all?"

She nodded.

"Those are all the family. Lieutenant Priors, meet Jack Woods, Captain of the Blue Danube."

The two men shook hands roughly. The introduction hadn't helped Jack make a good impression, but then he had never much wanted to impress company drones.

"You should both come for dinner on the Danube. Emma is quite the cook."

"I have a better idea: we'll have dinner here. Can you fit that in, Lieutenant?"

Priors nodded. Jack was unimpressed.

"What's wrong with my place for dinner? What's your space station got that my ship doesn't?"

"Gravity. We have a good galley, but mainly I'm a fan of gravity."


With some trepidation, she opened the door to the galley. To her relief it was more like a ground-side kitchen than the kind of cupboard that laughably bore the name on most ships. A crew member in a large white jacket and a tall hat moved back and forth frantically.

"Good afternoon?"

"Ah, hello Miss Turner." He pushed past her to get to one of the appliances, turning down one of several dials. "How can I help you?"

She watched for a few moments as he rushed back and forth.

"I'm sorry, we've not met. Is this a bad time?"

"No, no, busy is good. I'm Paul Whitman, chef. What do you need?"

Gail ducked to the other side as he came back, looking for something else. She seemed to be in the way no matter where she stood.

"I may have made something of a mistake, Mister Whitman. Can you manage a modest dinner for six this evening?"

She stepped back, still unable to be out of the way and now fearing a terrible backlash for the imposition.

"Of course."

"Pardon?"

He stopped what he was doing and turned to her.

"That's no problem. It's not like I wasn't going to cook for everyone on board anyway. Dinner at the captain's table just gives me an excuse to break out some decent ingredients. Some notice would have been nice, but it just means I won't be using anything that needs to be defrosted. One of my assistants can be steward."


"That's a nice little ship you have, Captain."

Jack smiled.

"It's not so small, Lieutenant. Quite comfortable for me and my family."

"Fair enough. You should have that docking computer looked at though; had it kicked in much later we'd be working on the clean-up for days."

The captain laughed, but it was his son who had the answer.

"That wasn't a problem with the computer, Sir. We had it disabled so that Emma could practice docking."

Gail's eyes widened.

"You did that deliberately?"

He shrugged.

"Simulations are all well and good, but you can't be sure you can really do something until you've really done it. And flying a ship without pilots who are sure they can really dock manually is just crazy. Right, Lieutenant?"

Priors glanced at his boss, wondering quite what damage he was about to do.

"Well, in principle I agree. But it's still illegal."

Jack nodded. He had nothing more to say on the matter, and the silence soon had everyone concentrating on their food until the main course was over.

"So, Marcus, what do you think of our space station?"

"It's well situated."

Amy sighed.

"Please don't get him started on his fields." She leant across the table toward him. "Mark, the Lieutenant already knows why they put the station here."

Mister Priors smiled at the boy.

"Field theory already? That's pretty heavy stuff."

"Not really. Well, the actual equations are beyond me at the moment, but the principles are quite simple: the Lieberman-Watson inertial field uses quantum phase manipulations to alter the effective relativistic dilation experienced by a body. A ship inside the field can be accelerating at a g for all purposes except that the field is actually changing speed much quicker."

Looking around the table, Gail reached the depressing conclusion that she was the only one who couldn't follow what her son had said. Amy was nonplussed, but the reaction of her nine-year-old didn't really excuse that the fifteen-year-old understood space travel - her business, in effect - so much better than she did.

"That doesn't explain why the station is at this particular distance."

Mark nodded to her reassuringly.

"We'll be there in a moment, Mum. Basically there's a critical value of the dilation coefficient - somewhere around twelve - at which the solar wind makes an inertial field unstable. Due to the difficulty of controlling the exact coefficient, ships operating within the inner heliosphere tend to use a smaller drive engineered never to exceed ten or so. Once they make it to the heliosheath the stellar winds from other stars provide an equalising effect allowing fields above the threshold; coefficients of dozens with a big enough drive."

Jack and the Lieutenant started a round of applause, although nobody else joined them. Gail was still trying to sift through the description; it was much like the explanation she'd been given when she asked one of the company physicists the same question and she hadn't understood it then either. All she really knew - or needed to know, for that matter - was that she ran a 'service station' at the last point people were likely to stop on their way out of the system.

"You certainly know your stuff, Mark. That's the most succinct explanation I've heard in some time." He lifted his glass ceremonially before taking a sip of the wine. "Just a shame nobody wants to go to Barnard's Star any more. I hear the Wheel on the Centauri side is much busier."

Jack smiled, raising his own glass toward that of the the lieutenant.

"Not to mention the one in Earth orbit."

"By tradition the crew of Waypoint Station Seventeen do their best not to speak of that very place."



Next Chapter: Chapter 5