Headwall Station comprised the whole valley on both sides of the Grey River, all the way from Veldmeer to the Headwall homestead at the headwall cwm. It was a peak big-sky midsummer day, the sun rising high and warming everything that it touched. The rings were just faintly visible if you squinted.
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Breakfast was just about to wrap up; the last of another enormous stack of toast and an equally high stack of pancakes had been systematically decimated.
Angus stood up with his glass and a fork. He then decided he needed some more height so he stood on the bench, almost spilling his orange juice in the process.
Grandma Bella frowned.
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The sun had barely peeped above the headwall, when Charlie woke. The house was still dark and quiet, as Charlie pulled on some clothes and headed downstairs to the kitchen. The light Rebecca had left on the night before was still burning as he crept in. He took in the scrubbed wooden table in the centre, the gleaming pans hanging from hooks on the rafters and the enormous range still faintly warm from the night before. Everything ready for another day of feeding a house full of hungry mouths.
A voice came from behind him.
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Daan and Marta, the Headwall Stationhands, were waiting for the twelve boys and the Husky family at Theden Spaceport.
Nineteen people, including the drivers Daan and Marta, needed to be distributed between two vehicles. The mathematics of this had been Daan’s problem to solve and he’d solved it incorrectly twice before finally getting it right.
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Space, as it turned out, was very large.
And also, very big.
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The door slid shut behind Huxley as he entered the privacy of his ready room. He moved to his desk and picked up his tablet.
He scrolled through a familiar list of items needing review.
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Lewis and Anika were reviewing the metadata from all the previous probe engagements. They were looking for anything that indicated a pattern of regular behaviour.
A blue spiderweb of all the plotted encounters shifted slowly across the table, lines connecting with points that had no business being connected.
Lewis leaned over the display, one hand braced on the edge.
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General Marvin Huxley was waiting for Greenwatch on the flight deck as they climbed one by one out of their fighters.
Over his arm, he was holding a neatly folded pair of clean flight pants.
Toby climbed down from his cockpit and came face to face with his Commanding Officer.
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Greenwatch Squadron were on patrol in one of the furthest quadrants of Hundeerde space. They were travelling in a fairly loose formation, and the patrol so far had been completely unremarkable.
This was about to change.
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Another rest day had come around for the Greenwatch Squadron, with no flying on their schedule. An opportunity to relax after another week of constant patrols.
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Screw Pile Developments 