REPORTS CAME IN EVERY half hour. The Mistral, the entrance defense teams, the Nova Fortuna. All ready. No change. No change. No change.
And the Scythian fleet drew closer, unmoving on the screens and yet incredibly fast.
“Christ,” Aubriot complained, “I can’t stand this. How much bloody longer?”
Ethan’s gaze flicked to the top of one of the interface screens. Faina had placed a numerical display there that counted down the estimated interval until the Scythians would be within firing range. Aubriot could see the time just as well as Ethan. “Thirty-seven minutes. Do you want to know the seconds too?”
“Very funny,” Aubriot said sarcastically. “In fact, that’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard you say. Don’t have much of a sense of humor, do you? Look how you reacted that time I was joki
