I’M TOLD IT’S A BEAUTIFUL city, the glittering, ice-kissed heart of Cyan, a citadel built of three-thousand-year-old stone and timber. But we see next to none of it. Our vac touches down in the lowlands, south of the Cyanese capital, which towers above the fjords. From a distance, looking up, all we see is a glimmer of polished gray—the very tip of the Skal. No. We won’t be visiting Larken’s snow-capped home during this trip. Instead, we’re prepping for launch, in the foothills far from Raupang’s gates. In a matter of hours, my team and I will buckle in, blast off, then drift toward a giant calibrated ring—a gateway through folded space. In an eye-blink, we’ll charge it, hurtling out of our galaxy and into Earth’s orbit. Then, millions of light-years from here, we’ll find a different kind of ring. A forgotten space station. The U.S.S. Sweetwater. For now I sit alone in the flight master’s office planted on one end of the yard.
