The Nineteen Eighty-Four dutifully powered up its three main engines once the Synod troopers had extricated it from the webbing. A low-intensity burn placed it on an intercept course with Threeworld some three AU towards the system’s star.

There were too many unanswered questions. What was the-

“Lewison, bring us about on relative bearing 060 by 060 please,” the captain ordered smoothly.

There was a pause, during which time the captain actually had to turn to the helmsman.

“Negative on that, captain.”

“Say again, lieutenant?”

“Thrusters are rejecting the new course, captain.”

“Try again.”

“Did so, sir. Console says course correction in progress, but we’re not turning. Sir, I think the Synod did more than cut us free.”

Davidovitch looked at the approaching Threeworld grimly.

“So be it. Williams, Lewison – find out what they did and reverse it. We’re stuck playing by their rules until you do, so get going.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Reckall.”

“Captain?”

“Looks like we’ll need you after all.”