“There are many factors that could play into all of those things.”
His eyes grew wide, equal parts fascinated and terrified. “Do you know what this could mean, Rake?” His mouth opened as he dragged his fingers down his cheeks and through his beard.
“Could is the operative word, Jack. We need to confirm—”
“You know how it used to be, right? The universe was expanding?”
“Of course,” she breathed. “Like a million years ago.”
“Then it stopped.” He slid down the steps to the foot of the viewscreen, looking up at it in reverence, as if the screen itself were some fearsome, impervious foe. “Do you think this is how they felt when they found out?”
A chill ran up Adequin’s spine.
“Probably not,” Jackin answered himself, then began to chuckle. “Stopping in its tracks is one thing. About-facing’s a whole different kind of formidable.” His chuckle morphed into a full laugh.
“Optio, get a hold of yourself,” she demanded. Her tone carried an impatient firmness she generally reserved for only the most unruly of soldiers. He ignored her and continued to laugh up at the screen. She descended the steps toward him two at a time, then took him by the shoulders to force him to look at her. “Jackin.”
His smile faded and the deranged fervor fell away from his eyes. He looked at his feet. “Sorry, boss.”
“It’s fine.” She dropped her hands from his shoulders. “How far do your readings say it’s moved?”
“It’s hard to tell exactly. I’d say fifteen or twenty kilometers, give or take.”
“Can you think of anything else that might be causing the readings you’re seeing?”
He shook his head slowly, running a hand down the side of his face.
“We’ve eliminated sensor error, right?” she asked.
“Right. A few dozen times over.”
“Griffith mentioned density fluctuations while riding it—could it be a bad flare-up making it seem like it’s closer?”
“No. Those fluctuations might have an impact on the ships traveling on it, but they’re nominal compared to the overall structure. We’d never see those kinds of readings from here.”
“Okay,” she said, crossing her arms. “What are we missing? What other phenomenon could it be?”
“No—this isn’t theoretical, boss,” he said, tone suddenly firm, all traces of his former shock replaced with sound assuredness. “I’ve checked it all, again and again. I just didn’t realize what all the individual pieces meant until I looked at them as a whole.” His gaze drifted down, and he let out a long sigh. “Until I took the laws of the universe out of my assumption. It’s moving toward us—that’s a fact.”
Adequin’s heart kicked against her ribs, and she took a second to steady herself before responding. “Well, here’s another fact—it’s still well over a million klicks away, and we’ve—it’s—moved only a few kilometers. We have time to figure things out. I don’t want to start telling people until we have to—but we can bring Mesa and some other brains in on it tomorrow if we need to. For now, I want you to get some rest. That’s an order.”
He nodded, then slowly ascended the steps toward the door.
“Jack?” she said. He stopped to look back at her. “Don’t tell anyone about this. Understood?”
“Understood.” Jackin disappeared into the dark hallway.
Adequin looked at the viewscreen to find the same field of solid black. If they’d already lost visual of the Tempus’s engines, they would soon be out of theoretical radio range. Not that the damn things ever worked anyway.