Every ship that coursed the Throughways was a pinprick disturbing the serenity of the void below. Every world out there was like a pulsar in unspace, sending out ripples. Or not every world. There weren’t enough disturbances for that. Not stars, nor dead rocks hurtling about nameless suns. Idris had expected unspace to be oppressed by all the mass of real space. That made scientific sense to him, and yet it was demonstrably not so. Mass didn’t fluctuate in the way he was seeing. What else was there, that had weight and force within the unreality of unspace? Only one thing, and he himself was
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