We saw no animals. I spotted tiny burrows and mounds in the dirt, perhaps made by insects. A kind of lichen clung to the larger rocks. Nothing moved, save us and the dust. Not even the sun: the “days” here lasted as long as an orbit of the moon around the Jovian, which was about ten standard days.

And over it all loomed the bridge. It rose lumpily from beyond the horizon. It looked crude—almost unfinished—but it became a thread that arrowed through the clouds, making the sky stretch into a third dimension.

And what a complex sky it was. The sister moon scowled down, scarred and bitter, and the Jovian primary loomed massively on the horizon, the corners of a great celestial triangle forever frozen in place.

The Spline ship rolled over the horizon, tracking its low orbit. It was like a moon itself, a mottled, meaty moon made grey by the dusty air. Even from here I could see the big green tetrahedron on its hull, the sigil of free humanity. The leathery hull-epidermis of the Spline was pocked with sensor arrays; we had spent a lot of money to ensure our capture of any wild Ghosts was recorded and certified, to preserve the value of the hides.

Everywhere you looked—every time you dug a trench with your toe—you found more bits of bone. Perhaps there had been a vast flood, I thought, that had washed up this vast assemblage of remains. Or perhaps there had been a drought, and this was a place where animals had gathered around the drying water holes, fighting to suck at the mud, while the predators watched.

Or maybe it was a battlefield.

As we walked, L’Eesh studied me, his inhuman eyes glistening. “It looks as if we are going to spend some time together.”

I didn’t reply.

“So. Tell me about yourself.”

“I’m not interested in playing head games with you, L’Eesh.”

“So defensive, little Raida! I did know your mother.”

“That doesn’t give you the right to know me.” I saw a chance to get the upper hand. “Listen to me, L’Eesh. I think I know what’s going on here … ”