Horizon Storms - Kevin J. Anderson [68]
Jess approached the main docking ring slowly as more questions rose in his mind. How would he get inside? He looked down at his energy-impregnated body, saw his skin glow. With the wentals permeating his tissues, he possessed many advantages and abilities no human had ever experienced before. The blood flowing through his veins was supercharged, his skin covered with a crackling field. In keeping him alive, the wentals had made him more than human. He wondered if he could even survive open vacuum.
Yes. We will protect you.
They could not, however, help him to answer the flood of questions the Roamers would have. That would be his own challenge. Cesca would help, once he was finally reunited with her.
While the clan ships scrambled in a panic and the inhabitants of Rendezvous hurried to defensive stations or made preparations to evacuate, Jess hovered the large, strange ship outside a circular entry crater. He had to hope the clan ships didn’t shoot at him, though his wental vessel could probably withstand any such attack. Roamers generally kept a low profile, hiding instead of picking a fight. They would wait and see what he intended to do. He hoped.
From the asteroid cluster, lights glinted like bright eyes from portholes in the rough walls. Even now alarms must be ringing. Roamers rushed through the tunnels, preparing to evacuate or fight.
Jess’s ship just hung there, motionless. He made no threatening moves, giving the Roamers time to accept his presence. Other spacecraft backed off, waiting to see what would happen next.
Finally, curious, one small ship approached closer than the others dared, swooping past. Jess looked through the wavering water wall to see a young Roamer piloting the vessel. The pilot had Asian features and a face full of more curiosity than fear. Nikko Chan Tylar. Jess remembered the young man from clan gatherings…back when he himself had been normal.
Standing where he could be seen behind the curved, clear wall, Jess moved languidly through the liquid atmosphere. He pressed close to the watery hull and raised a hand in a nonthreatening greeting, sure that Nikko could see his human form through the bubble wall. Jess slowly waved—harmless, friendly. Nikko’s shocked expression showed genuine recognition before he spun away.
Then Jess realized that in addition to his eerily glowing flesh, his naked physique would have been an innocuous, even humorous surprise. Roamers loved to decorate themselves, embroider their clothes, embellish their outfits with flamboyant scarves. They weren’t prudish, but if he walked completely unclothed into Rendezvous, he would cause a different sort of stir than he intended.
That is easily enough solved.
In the water in front of him, a tiny strand appeared as molecules lined up, drawn from the minerals in the captured seawater and from the metallized coral of the framework. The thread spun out like a silvery web, growing longer, then whirling, weaving.
We will create a fabric that can endure the energy in your flesh.
As the threads meshed and tangled, knitting into a filmy weave, he saw that the material had the sheen and color of mother-of-pearl. The fabric wrapped around him like another skin, covering his arms and legs, his torso, his hips, but leaving his hands and feet bare.
“Very stylish,” he said.
It is sufficient.
Ready now, Jess carefully brought the wental vessel down into the crater, pressing the filmy walls against the large hangar doors. The watery barrier reshaped itself, forming a fluid seal so that Jess could operate the hatch and open the heavy door.
He stepped directly through the membrane as if it were no more than gelatin