Zero-Option | Page 4

Lindsay Brambles
had a simple systems
failure that resulted in its destruction, just what do you think happened
to it?"
He shrugged. "There are a lot of theories," he said. "Some insist it must
have been the Reds."
"The Unity?" Jhordel snorted and shook her head. "That's quite far out
from Unity space. And since the captain of a class ship is under orders
to conduct random jumps during a shakedown, I find it difficult to
believe the Unity could have predicted where the ship would have been
at any given moment. No,"—she shook her head again—"I can't see the
Red Catholic Church wasting precious resources that far beyond the
Fringes."
Which means you don't think we should either, he thought; and he

wasn't sure he disagreed with her. He was inclined to subscribe to the
theory that the Niagara had simply been a victim of technology.
Something new that hadn't worked quite the way it should have. On the
other hand, there was still the possibility it was out there somewhere,
relatively intact. There might be people still alive on board, waiting to
be rescued. And even if there weren't, the Navy needed to know what
had happened, just so the same thing wouldn't happen again.
"There's also the possibility that it's some kind of natural phenomenon,"
he found himself saying. "Possibly something in the transit lines of the
Matrix. The last reported jump was through the Rigar Transit Point."
"And the probes?"
He shifted uncomfortably, because, of course, that was one of the holes
in the theory. "The probes were sent from Msatas Transit Point," he
told her reluctantly.
"Rigar and Msatas have both been used for years without incident,"
Jhordel said. "If there's a problem, it would have to be at the other end."
She looked at him squarely and added, "Which doesn't bode well for
anyone following the Niagara and the probes."
"No, it doesn't," he agreed, his voice tight.
"Does Admiralty have some bold plan for how we're going to make the
jump and avoid a similar fate?" she asked with a touch of sarcasm.
He swallowed and grimaced. "They do, Captain, but I don't think you're
going to like it."

2.
"Tell them," she said.
Imbrahim looked around at the faces of the other officers assembled in
the Confederation's briefing room and thought he sensed a degree of

hostility in their eyes. He told himself he was wrong, that it was only
paranoia, that he was just letting his own insecurities get the better of
him. He wasn't a spacers. Not in their eyes, at least. And that set him
apart from them; he didn't belong in their world. Consequently, they
didn't trust him as they would one of their own. But they couldn't
possibly hate him, or really have feelings about him one way or the
other.
Except that I'm Naval Intelligence, he reminded himself; and nobody in
the regular navy cared for Jackson's lackeys.
"We could forego the transit point and make a blind jump," he began.
"You can't be serious," said Wethers, the first officer. "Even doing skip
jumps involves an element of risk. And they're only short distances.
You're talking about light-years of phase-shifting outside of the Matrix.
Two hundred and fifty light-years beyond the Fringes, as a
matter-of-fact."
"I agree."
Imbrahim glanced over at the navigation officer, Seria Talud.
"In the Matrix we're pretty well guaranteed safe passage," she
continued. "The use of transit points has made interstellar travel much
more efficient and safe. There's little fear of passing through a planet or
a sun or dropping out into one. The lines we use are generally clear of
mass and debris. Blind phase-shifting doesn't guarantee that."
"But it was practiced for more than two centuries after the development
of the Pearson FTL," Imbrahim reminded them all. "I grant you that use
of transit points is preferable, but the only two points that connect to
the sector we need to jump to are suspect."
"It's possible to drop shift before you reach the exit point on a given
line in the Matrix," said Talud.
"But the risks are no less substantial than blind shifting," Imbrahim

argued. "Dropping shift from within the Matrix means an unsighted
exit. Even our best efforts can't predict an exact entry into sublight
space."
"I'm not enamored of either suggestion," Wethers grunted. "They're
both too bloody risky. And if there are Unity out there waiting for the
next ship to come down the pike, we might not be in any shape to
defend ourselves against them. Dropping shift blind or using the old
conventional methods could put a lot of strain on the ship."
"Not to mention the crew," interjected the chief medical officer. N'robo
gave Imbrahim a sullen look, and there was a hint of indictment in his
eyes.
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