by Thorne Moore
‘Maybe dwell a bit more on the sheer brilliance of the scheme.’
‘Where is it, the nineteen million?’
‘Around,’ said Smith. ‘Invested here and there.’
‘And where is it going?’
‘Ah, well some of it’s going to Dr Cornelius Foxe.’
‘Only some?’
‘I was thinking, five million.’
‘I was thinking eighteen. You’d keep one million as payment for your work on our Ultima.’
‘And I keep another thirteen as my price for keeping quiet. Bearing in mind the damage I could do.’
‘Damage to me?’
‘I assume you don’t want Pascal to know you transferred David Rabiotti to another ship. And a Pan ship, too. Might he get a bit uppity if he heard about that?’
‘Probably, if it were true.’
‘Come on! There was a body in that bag. An intact body. It certainly wasn’t what was left of poor Tim. I saw, remember.’ Smith was pointing with the knife. He looked at the blade and put it down hurriedly.
‘Yes, you saw,’ agreed Tod.
‘What did you do with the real Tim?’
‘Incinerator. What else?’
Smith looked a little sick. ‘Just as well Abby and the others think he’s being sent off in style, with flowers and a few choice words.’
‘How do you know what words I did or didn’t say, when I dealt with it?’
‘Okay.’
‘When I dealt with it, Jo Jo. Not a job you’d have coped with, but I’m not so squeamish. Remember that when you negotiate with me. And I’ll remember it too. I’ll remember that you don’t actually like hurting people, any more than you like being hurt. You know that if Pascal finds out about David, the Heloise and everyone on her will be destroyed, without mercy. You’ll condemn David to be reclaimed by Pascal for a life of sick experiments. I don’t think you’re vicious enough.’
Smith gave a grudging smile. ‘Should I take that as a compliment? Just tell me, how are you going to explain David’s absence to the others?’
Tod shrugged. ‘In a couple of days, one of them will find his cabin open and wrecked. There’ll be a search. I’ll find him down on D-Deck, out of control. I’ll try to restrain him, but alas...’
Smith shook his head sadly. ‘Poor David. A blessed release, you might say.’
‘No, you can say it. I’m relying on your professional skills to back me up.’
‘In exchange for?’
Tod smiled. ‘In exchange for my permission to waste the next six months concocting some cunning plan to escape Pascal’s grasp, once you’ve been safely registered on Triton. A plan to creep back onto the Heloise somehow, before we leave a couple days later, without the remotest risk to the ship or anyone on it.’
‘You are kidding! I go to Triton? You hand me over and then I can escape?’
‘That or nothing. For eighteen million and some tweaking of the Ultima.’
‘Can I borrow some of Merrit’s vocabulary?’
‘Think of it as a challenge, Jo Jo. You like challenges, and this will be the challenge of a lifetime.’
Smith’s expression was already shifting from disbelieving horror to narrow-eyed calculation. He ripped open a packet and peered into its contents. ‘Am I still allowed access to the Ultima?’
Tod laughed. ‘I wasn’t aware I could stop you.’
‘I was being polite. And saving time shinning up the elevator shaft. Can we just agree that I can consult your records of previous Triton trips?’
‘I don’t see why not. What do you expect to find?’
‘God knows!’ Smith laughed hysterically. ‘But if there’s a way of getting off Triton, I’ll find it.’
‘Do your research then. You’ve got six months and, who knows, you might pull off a miracle.’
Yasmin was in the observation lounge, sunk in a sofa, staring up at the screen. Nothing to be seen other than dancing pin-points of light, nothing to indicate where they were or where their route lay, and yet they were moving on, smoothly, steadily, inexorably, into the darkness, to an unseen goal.
Tod poured himself a drink and sat down beside her. ‘How’s the guilt?’
‘How’s the shoulder?’
‘Out of your reach. Why do you think I’m keeping this side of you?’ He looked at the screen. ‘Joining more dots? Plenty of them. If you stare hard enough, you can definitely see a donkey.’
‘No dots, no donkeys. I’m just contemplating Space as a metaphor for life.’
‘Oh, that.’ Tod sipped his drink. ‘You mean, a self-deluded quest for inevitably disappointing goals?’
‘Is that what it is?’
‘Look at it. Heart-stopping – from here. So we reach out for it, and when we get there... Look at our own little moon, symbol of all things magical, mystical and romantic, glimmering so exquisitely in our earthly night sky. And when you stand on it, what is it but a lump of cold, barren, lifeless rock? Our hearts leap as we look at the evening star, but is there anything more hellish, at close quarters, than Venus? Is there anything out here remotely hospitable? In all this system of ice and gas and sizzling acid, hotter than the pit of fire and brimstone or colder than the lowest circle of Hell, there is one planet that’s genuinely beautiful and teaming with life, even now, and all we do is try to escape from it, in search of a chimera.’
‘You’ve clearly been giving a lot of thought to the attainment of disappointing goals.’
‘All goals are disappointing. But just beyond them, there’s always another. Eventually, something so far beyond ourselves that we can’t contain it within our small and sullied comprehension. So we’re drawn on, forever questing, our hearts in pilgrimage.’
Yasmin stared solemnly at the screen. ‘Still flogging the metaphysical poets, I see.’
Tod smiled.
She turned to him. ‘Your quest for the Vlad and the Tarquin. Is that a self-deluded longing for an empty goal? Now you’ve successfully reduced the Vlad to dust, you must be in a position to judge.’
Tod held his glass up to the light, to look through the golden liquid. ‘There was a certain ice-cold satisfaction in it.’
‘No better than that?’
‘I need to finish the job to judge the final effect. Don’t push your luck, Miss Gwynne.’
‘All right.’ She steered the subject away. ‘You got David to safety. Is that an empty goal?’
‘I’d call it more of an own goal, wouldn’t you? Scored at the expense of Tim and Tucker and Mich. Can we leave this one off my epitaph?’
‘But you did persuade Darke to take him, and to keep it secret.’
‘For a price.’
‘Four acthridium cells, which you’d stolen anyway.’
Tod took a swig of his Scotch. ‘You underestimate Benedict Darke’s negotiating skills. Four acthridium cells and the Heloise.’
‘The ship?’ She sat up. ‘How?’
‘We join Pan. After Triton. That’s the price Darke demanded for keeping quiet about David.’
‘Oh. I’m sorry. But is it so terrible, joining Pan?’
‘Kwame thinks not. He’s been suggesting it for a while.’
‘But you still hanker after your independence. Darke wouldn’t accept anything less?’
Tod laughed. ‘What the hell. I knew what the price would be when I went. It isn’t the first time they’ve tried to hook us.’
‘You’ll be safer.’
‘I don’t want to be safe.’
‘But you do want to bring down Pascal. That’s been your ultimate goal all along, and for all the calculating little darts you aim at him, the Heloise will never achieve that on her own. Whereas Pan might, in the end.’
‘I had figured this out, you know. It means this will be our last Triton run.’
‘Yes. One last delivery of cargo.’
He said nothing.
She continued. ‘That’s what I am: cargo. Being delivered to Triton.’
‘That’s right,’
he said steadily.
‘And astonishingly, I’ve discovered that I want to survive.’
‘That is good.’
‘It might be, if it weren’t totally futile. But I can’t help myself.’ She laughed softly. ‘How do I manage this? I suppose I just have to wean myself off the alcohol, concoct a career that will be of some value on Triton, and make sure I evade direct contact with Pascal for the next seven years.’
‘We could start with the vodka.’ He slipped his good arm round her shoulders. ‘Some displacement activity perhaps, to divert you?’
‘You’re the one who’s drinking and looking for diversion.’ She removed his arm. ‘Whereas what you really need is to let that wound heal, get some proper sleep, and move us all on to pastures new.’
‘Oh well.’ He finished his drink and settled down to study the screen again. ‘So, back to contemplation of Space as a metaphor for self-deluded longings.’
Chapter 27
Six months later
‘What’s that bit?’ asked Abigail.
‘Emergency evacuation,’ said Selden. ‘Totally useless, but it’s as well to know it’s there. The more you learn about the layout of the place, the less you’ll have to find out when you arrive. Ignorance is a dangerous thing on Triton.’
She nodded, scrutinising the map. ‘That area?’
‘Decontamination. Rough and ready, but it mostly works.’
‘Mostly?’
‘Win some, lose some.’
Abigail sniffed. ‘And there’s no map of Base 7?’
‘I could draw you a rough sketch, but it’ll have changed so much since I was there last, it would be worse than useless.’
‘We’ll learn soon enough.’
‘We’ll have to.’ He flashed a sudden smile. ‘But you do that. Learn fast.’ He turned back to the screen. ‘New bio-engineering complex. Take a look…’ He stopped in mid-sentence, his expression suddenly appalled.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘Galley duty. My turn.’
Abigail laughed after him as he disappeared at a brisk jog. ‘The whip lady will get you.’
She returned to her study, still lithe despite months of toughening. She moved on to another file, and then another, frowning, tip of her tongue working along her lip.
Then she was aware.
‘I know you’re there,’ she said, without looking up.
‘How are you doing?’ asked the commander.
‘Fine.’ She turned, cool, wary, giving no quarter. ‘This isn’t another self-defence lesson, is it?’
Tod rubbed his elbow. ‘I learned my lesson with the last one, thank you.’
‘I did warn you.’ Abigail sat back with a superior smile. ‘I’ve had plenty of time to practice.’
‘And you’ve made the most of every minute.’ He was studying her, like an artist gauging whether one last brush stroke was needed, then he nodded, satisfied. ‘We’ve just passed the first Triton beacon.’
‘Oh.’ She straightened, stilling the butterflies in her stomach. ‘I knew it must be near. Hard to miss Neptune. How long?’
‘Three days. A bit more, maybe.’
‘Right. I suppose I’d better…’ She hesitated. Too late for anything now.
‘Did Merrit give you your jabs?’
‘Yes! I’m still sore.’
Tod smiled. ‘You should have got it over with earlier. So. You’re certain about the cryogenic engineering?’
She braced herself. ‘Yes,’ she said firmly. ‘It’s the only way I can guarantee working outside.’
‘I shouldn’t have offered you those extra opportunities to slip our surly bonds. It’s given you an insatiable itch to touch the face of the unknowable.’
‘Did you really expect it to put me off?’
‘No, not really.’ He perched on the corner of the console, next to her. ‘It won’t be the same. Working outside the Triton bio-domes will be nothing like walking among the stars.’
‘I know. But it will do. Something other.’
‘Is Selden going for it too?’
‘Yes. It was his speciality before.’ She glanced at him defiantly. ‘That’s not why I’d choose it.’
‘No, I know your reasons. But I hope you do stick with him.’
Abigail tossed her head, the old arrogance gleaming through. ‘I don’t need a nursemaid. I can take care of myself.’
‘I know you can. It was Selden I was thinking about, not you.’
‘Oh.’ She was silenced for a moment. Then she put all front aside. ‘Peter and I will stick together, if we can.’
‘Good.’ Tod reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of cards. ‘Your records revised. I thought you might as well be prepared.’ He found hers and handed it over. ‘Use your mother’s name, Nilsson. Probably best not to mention Dieterman. So, check through these. Diplomas, various, and a couple of references: Fayette Inc, and ISF Equus. The trick is not to beg for Cryogenic engineering. Mention it and let your records do the rest. Your first advantage is that you’re not a convict, you’re one of the elite, a volunteer, so you won’t be totally expendable from day one, and they’ll want to make the most of any qualifications you have.’
She tapped the card and flicked through the contents incredulously. Certificates, references, tax returns, medical records. They were convincing, mixed, nothing too obvious. Decent grades, mild praise, nothing that would be beyond her ability to bluff after the last six months of intensive study.
She looked up, blinking back tears.
‘Yes, I know,’ said Tod. ‘I’m so good to you. Work yourself up a convincing history based round them and play it cool. Remember you’re valuable and act that way.’
She managed a laugh. ‘When do I not?’ She looked at the precious documents again, wiping her nose. ‘What if they check? Are they likely to?’
‘Probably not. But if they do, they’ll find the records match back home. I’ve been making Jo Jo earn his keep.’
Abigail laughed. ‘Tod.’
‘Yes?’
‘Thank you.’
‘Any time.’ He kissed her cheek. ‘Just make sure you earn plenty of bonuses. I expect it of you.’
He found Clytemnestra in the infirmary, stark naked on the bed. She sat up indignantly when Tod entered. ‘I’ve told you before, you don’t get to look for nothing.’
Tod looked with interest. ‘What are you charging him?’
‘Enough,’ said Merrit. ‘Will you just lie down again? How can I relate your ischium to your ilium if you keep wriggling around? You think she’d let me do this for free, wouldn’t you?’
‘There’s a price for everything,’ said Clytemnestra, unmoved. ‘Find your own illythingy.’ She reached for her basque, snapping it into place. ‘I’ve got work to do. The workshops won’t clean themselves, you know.’
Tod continued looking. ‘Forget the workshops for a moment.’
Merrit looked up cautiously from his notes. ‘Oh?’
‘What’s happened?’ Clytemnestra wriggled into a fur jacket. It covered the basque, but as she had yet to pull on her leggings, the effect was unsettling.
Tod handed them to her. ‘We’ve aligned with the first Triton beacon. That means we’re on the approach.’
Clytemnestra paused, the leggings round her knees. Then she pulled them up. ‘Good. We’ll soon be there then.’
‘Three days.’
Merrit had turned pale, but he mastered his nerves with an effort. ‘Three days eh? Well, I can’t wait to get off this junk heap at last.’ He coughed to hide the tremble in his voice.
The commander smiled. ‘Uncle Tod has a present for you both. Here you are, Nessy. Your clerical qualifications upgraded. And a management diploma. As for the rest…’ He considered her, rubbing his chin. ‘Of course, you have your certificate for therapeutic massage. Anything else hardly needs qualifications, does it? You could show them a copy of Beasts in Bondage, I suppose.’
‘That wasn’t my best,’ said
Clytemnestra, slipping the card into her basque. ‘But it doesn’t matter. I can handle things.’
Tod bit his lip. ‘Yes, you certainly can. I’m sure you’ll find a few useful openings.’
‘Just as long as they pay well.’
Tod glanced at Merrit, who was breathing deeply, waiting his turn. ‘Relax, Doc.’ He produced Merrit’s card. ‘Plenty of lab references, but we’ve thrown in a couple of paramedical qualifications, a brief stint at Lister Hospital on M2 and as medical officer with the Shaman. Oh, and you did a preliminary year at medical college before you dropped out in favour of lab work. Okay?’
‘Great,’ said Merrit, shivering. ‘I only hope I can convince them.’
‘No, no! Don’t hope, just do it. The only thing you need to demonstrate is confidence. You’re expecting to work as a lab technician, but if they’re desperate for medical aid, you don’t mind helping out. Right? There aren't any medical appointments on Triton, but once word gets round, you’ll find units queuing up to grab you on some other pretext, so they can get an unofficial medic into the bargain. So, the moment a medical situation arises, just take charge. Be confident. If an in-growing toenail operation goes helplessly wrong, blame the patient. No one’s going to challenge you.’
Merrit managed a smile. ‘In-growing toenail?’
‘Maybe not. Traumatic injuries, unidentified diseases and severe psychiatric disorders. You’ll probably be making do with tools from the nearest plumbing kit. So just in case…’ He opened the cupboard door and took out one of the instrument cases. ‘Keep it. But hidden, okay? And take anything else you might find useful. You could sew the drugs into your jacket linings.’
Merrit blushed. ‘Oh shit.’ He took the instrument case. ‘Thanks. I’ll, er – you know…’
‘Yes,’ said Tod. ‘I know.’
Freddie Masters, sharing the first half of Tod’s watch, was already in place in Flight Control, checking consoles when Tod arrived. Siegfried had parted company with the Heloise on U19, and Freddie had been available, looking to work his passage in order to re-join his own ship. A Pan ship. If his availability was suspiciously serendipitous, no one was complaining. With the crew still short-handed, he was efficient, good humoured, and experienced enough to make light of the problems.