She leaned closer and spoke as quietly as she could. “Forget keeping our position. Just crank up the thrusters. If we end up farther from it than we were, then oh well. Just get us away from it.”
“Copy, boss.” He leaned back over the terminal and got to work.
“Excubitor.” An ethereal voice wafted down from the top of the bridge. Adequin turned to find Mesa standing behind the captain’s chair, thin fingers drumming lightly across the back.
Adequin gripped Jackin’s shoulder, then climbed the steps toward the Savant.
“I had to eat breakfast with myself this morning.” Mesa’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “What is going on?”
“Just drifted a bit outward.”
Mesa looked over her shoulder. Cavalon stood with his mop in one hand, grinning at his future self, who also beamed with amusement. They lifted their mops in unison, attempting to mime one another. Mesa swung her gaze back to Adequin, who turned to exchange a worried glance with Jackin. They were going to have to tell people, sooner or later. They were only going to believe they’d accidentally drifted so many times.
“I’ll admit,” Adequin said, “the ripples have been a bit more frequent of late.”
“It is really more of a reflection.” Mesa’s tone shifted into one Adequin recognized well, one that more or less added the prefix “for your information” to everything she said. Mesa pressed her hands together and continued. “‘Ripple’ implies a degree of fluidity to time that suggests layered, concurrent dimensions acting in parallel to lead us toward a preconceived future. None of which has ever been substantiated. Even ancient Viator texts had very little information on tempology. You know, Excubitor, we are in an optimal location for data gathering as the closest vessel to the Divide…”
Adequin nodded along as the Savant continued. Mesa had no idea how accurate that statement was at the moment.
“… aberration, maybe. Regardless, ‘ripple’ is wholly inaccurate.”
“Yeah, I know, Mes. It’s just what we call it.”
“I know, Excubitor.”
“Did you need something?”
Mesa’s brows lifted. “Of course. The roster lists an oculus who has studied astrophysics, specializing in propulsion theory, but their name has been redacted. I would like to request him or her to assist on a project.”
“You want them to join the research team?”
“For a time. If they are a good fit, I would consider a long-term arrangement. Can you point me to them?”
“Uh…” Adequin nodded over Mesa’s shoulder.
Mesa looked back at Cavalon, now engaged in a mop-stick duel with his doppelg?nger. She watched him fight himself for a few silent moments, then blew out a long breath as she turned back to Adequin. “I can see you are quite busy. I will leave you to your work.”
Adequin laughed. “If you need him, Mes, he’s all yours. But be wary, he’s a handful.”
Mesa sauntered away and murmured, “I believe you.”
Adequin looked over at the new recruit and narrowed her eyes. “Cavalon,” she barked.
To her surprise, both versions of him snapped to attention immediately. “Sir.”
She didn’t know which was real until the one on the right flick ered. After a few moments, the duplicate disappeared, and a wave of relief washed over the bridge as more and more ripples subsided.
“How’s that cleaning going, recruit?” she asked.
“Sorry, sir.” Cavalon’s downcast eyes suggested guilt, though his drawn brow made her think he was a little … mad. At himself, she hoped. At least he seemed to be trying to straighten out, even if he was bad at it.