Jaeger is crossing a meadow, the black cap bobbing too much. What is real is the wet black strip of hard-packed earth that twists and folds back on itself. Think of it, you could grow them out of those nitrogen lakes on Triton and go scudding around the outer System on living sails. They make Foster and turn together, bunching up as they cross the rusted truss bridge.
In parts of the Covenant system you’re a hero, you know—a sort of superhero. Nobody knows where Wade is. But the smart money’s on the muscle. He wants to minimize his presence whenever possible—he needs time to think, to plan.
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