Pirius knew there were good reasons for the trifurcated design of the greenship. It was all to do with redundancy: the ship could lose two of its three blisters and still, in theory anyhow, fulfill its goals. But right now Pirius longed to be able to reach through these transparent walls, to touch his crewmates.

He said, “Navigator? You still with us?”

He saw Cohl glance across at him. “Trajectory’s nominal, Pilot.”

“I wasn’t asking about the trajectory.”

Cohl shrugged, as if resentfully. “What do you want me to say?”

“You saw all this in the briefing. You knew it was coming.”

It was true. The whole operation had been previewed for them by the Commissaries, in full Virtual detail, down to the timetabled second. It wasn’t a prediction, not just a guess, but foreknowledge: a forecast based on data that had actually leaked from the future. The officers hoped to deaden fear by making the events of the engagement familiar before it happened. But not everybody took comfort from the notion of a predetermined destiny.

Cohl was staring out through her blister wall, her lips drawn back in a cold, humorless smile. “I feel like I’m in a dream,” she murmured. “A waking dream.”

“It isn’t set in stone,” Pirius said. “The future.”

“But the Commissaries—”

“No Commissary ever set foot in a greenship — none of them is skinny enough. It isn’t real until it happens. And now is when it happens. It’s in our hands, Cohl. It’s in yours. I know you’ll do your duty.”

“And kick ass,” Enduring Hope shouted.

He saw Cohl grin at last. “Yes, sir!”