As soon as the Spline dropped out of hyperspace, our flitter burst from its belly. After our long enclosure in the crimson interior of the huge living ship, it was like being reborn.

Even though I had to share this adventure with L’Eesh, my spirits surged.

“Pretty system,” L’Eesh said. He was piloting the flitter with nonchalant ease. He was about sixty years old, some three times my age, a lot more experienced—and he didn’t miss a chance to let me know.

Well, pretty it was. The Jovian and its satellites were held in a stable gravitational embrace at the corners of a neat equilateral triangle, the twin moons close enough to the parent to be tidally locked.

And beyond it all I glimpsed a faint blue mesh thrown across the stars: an astonishing sight, a net large enough to enclose this giant planet, with struts half a million kilometers long.

I grinned. That was proof that this Jovian system was indeed a Ghost pit—a new pit, an unopened pit. Which was why its discovery had sent such a stir through the small, scattered community of Ghost hunters. And why, to be first, L’Eesh and I were prepared to fire ourselves in without even looking where we were going.

Already we were sweeping down toward one of the moons. Beneath a dusty atmosphere, the surface was brick red, a maze of charred pits.

“Very damaged landscape,” I said. “Impact craters? Looks as if it’s been bombed flat … ”

“You know,” said L’Eesh laconically, “there’s a bridge between those moons.”

At first his words made no sense. Then I peered up.

He was right: a fine arch leapt from the surface of one moon and crossed space to the other.

“Lethe!” I swore. I couldn’t understand how I hadn’t seen it immediately. But then, you don’t look for such a thing.

L’Eesh grunted. “I hope you have a strong stomach, Raida. Hily never did. Like mother like daughter—”