Nothing about the Garage made sense. Not its size, not its location, not even what happened to anything that entered it.
As Daniel watched on one of the Afterthought's always-out-of-focus viewscreens, an empty, battle-damaged spaceliner the size of a skyscraper breached the outer edge of the Garage.
With no one to steer it, the crimson ship was on a collision course with a mosquito-shaped vessel twice its size.
Within seconds of entering the Garage, the spaceliner hit the stationary ship at several thousand miles per hour and exploded with a burst of fire and molten metal.
Chunks of debris shot in all directions, hitting dozens of other ships inside the Garage. Some fragments whirled in place, some floated deeper into the Garage, and some bounced back into the ship graveyard.
Neither the mosquito-shaped ship nor any of the other Garage vessels showed any sign of damage.
Suddenly there was a blinding flash of light, a light even brighter than the explosion.
When the flash cleared, most of the spaceliner wreckage was gone. The debris inside the Garage had disappeared.
All that remained were the fragments of rapidly-cooling metal that the explosion had flung just outside the Garage's perimeter.
The spaceliner was the fifth ship Daniel had seen disappear since the Afterthought arrived in the Quadra Sector 47 hours earlier.
It was baffling.
Daniel tore his eyes away from the crash site and rechecked the coordinates he had received six weeks earlier.
He cursed his luck again.
Because—if the coordinates were correct—somewhere in that cube of nonsense space was the woman who broke his heart.