"I don't know if I can manage," Horza said truthfully.
"Wait a moment." The drone stayed floating silently in front of Horza for a moment or two; then it said, "Follow me, then. There is a traveltube just over here and down a deck." The machine backed off and indicated the direction they should head in by extending a hazy field from its casing. Horza got up and followed it.
They went down a small open AG lift shaft, then crossed a large open area where some of the wheeled and skirted vehicles used on the Orbital had been stored; just a few examples, the drone explained, for posterity. The Ends already had a Megaship aboard, stored in one of its two General bays, thirteen kilometres below, in the bottom of the craft. Horza didn't know whether to believe the drone or not.
On the far side of the hangar they came to another corridor, and there they entered a cylinder, about three metres in diameter and six long, which rolled its door closed, flicked to one side and was instantly sucked into a dark tunnel. Soft lights lit the interior. The drone explained that the windows were blanked out because, unless you were used to it, a capsule's journey through a GSV could be unsettling, due both to its speed and to the suddenness of the changes of direction, which the eye saw but the body didn't feel. Horza sat down heavily in one of the folding seats in the middle of the capsule, but only for a few seconds.
"Here we are. Smallbay 27492, in case you need it again. Innerlevel S-1O-right. Goodbye." The capsule door rolled down. Horza nodded to the drone and stepped out into a corridor with straight, transparent walls. The capsule door closed, and the machine vanished. He had a brief impression of it flickering past him, but it happened so fast he could have been wrong. Anyway, his vision was still blurred.
He looked to his right. Through the walls of the corridor he looked into clear air. Kilometres of it. There was some sort of roof high above, with just a suggestion of wispy clouds. A few tiny craft moved. Level with him, far enough away for the view to be both hazy and vast, were hangars: level after level after level of them. Bays, docks, hangars — call them what you wanted; they filled Horza's sight for square kilometres, making him dizzy with the sheer scale of it all. His brain did a sort of double take, and he blinked and shook himself, but the view did not go away. Craft moved, lights went on or off, a layer of cloud far below made the view further down still more hazy, and something whizzed by the corridor Horza stood in: a ship, fully three hundred metres long. The ship passed along the level he was on, swooped, and far far away did a left turn, banking gracefully in the air to disappear into another bright and vast corridor which seemed to pass by at right angles to the one Horza stood staring at. In the other direction, the one that the ship had appeared from, was a wall, seemingly blank. Horza looked closer and rubbed his eyes; he saw that the wall had an orderly speckle of lights in a grid across it: thousands and thousands of windows and lights and balconies. Smaller craft flitted about its face, and the dots of traveltube capsules flashed across and up and down.
Horza couldn't take much more. He looked to his left and saw a smooth ramp leading down underneath the tube the capsule travelled in. He stumbled down it, into the welcomingly small space of a two hundred metre long Smallbay.
Horza wanted to cry. The old ship sat on three short legs, square in the centre of the bay, a few bits and pieces of equipment scattered around it. There was nobody else in the bay that Horza could see, just machinery. The CAT looked old and battered, but intact and whole. It appeared that repairs were either finished or not yet started. The main hold lift was down, resting on the smooth white deck of the bay. Horza went over to it and saw a light ladder leading up into the brightness of the hold itself. A small insect landed briefly on his wrist. He flapped a hand at it as it flew off. How very untidy of the Culture, he thought absently, to allow an insect on board one of their sparkling vessels. Still, officially at least, the Ends was no longer the Culture's. Wearily he climbed the ladder, hampered by the damp cloak and accompanied by the squelching noises coming from his boots.
The hold smelled familiar, though it looked oddly spacious with no shuttle in it. There was nobody about. He went up the stairs from the hold to the accommodation section. He walked along the corridor towards the mess, wondering who was alive, who was dead, what changes had been made, if any. It had only been three days, but he felt as though he had been away for years. He was almost at Yalson's cabin when the door was quickly pulled open.
Yalson's fair-haired head came out, an expression of surprise, even joy, starting to form on it. «Haw-» she said, then stopped, frowned at him, shook her head and muttered something, ducking back into her cabin. Horza had stopped.
He stood there, thinking he was glad she was alive, realising he hadn't been walking properly — not like Kraiklyn. His tread had sounded like his own instead. A hand appeared from Yalson's door as she pulled on a light robe, then she came out and stood in the corridor, looking at the man she thought was Kraiklyn, her hands on her hips. Her lean, hard face looked slightly concerned, but mostly wary. Horza hid his hand with the missing finger behind his back.
"What the hell happened to you?" she said.
"I got in a fight. What does it look like?" He got the voice right. They stood looking at each other.
"If you want any help-" she began. Horza shook his head.
"I'll manage."
Yalson nodded, half smiling, looking him up and down. "Yeah, all right. You manage, then." She jerked a thumb over her shoulder, in the direction of the mess. "Your new recruit just brought her gear aboard. She's waiting in the mess, though if you look in now she might not think it's such a wonderful idea to join up."
Horza nodded. Yalson shrugged, then turned and walked up the corridor, through the mess towards the bridge. Horza followed her. "Our glorious captain," she said to somebody in the room as she went through. Horza hesitated at Kraiklyn's cabin door, then went forward to stick his head round the door of the mess.
A woman was sitting at the far end of the mess table, her legs crossed over a chair in front of her. The screen was switched on above her as though she had been watching it; it showed a view of a Megaship being lifted bodily out of the water by hundreds of small lifter tugs clustered under and around it. They were recognisably antique Culture machines. The woman had turned from the sight, though, and was gazing towards Horza when he looked round the side of the door.
She was slim and tall and pale. She looked fit, and her black-coloured eyes were set in a face just starting to show worried surprise at the battered face looking at her from the doorway. She had on a light suit, the helmet of which lay on the table in front of her. A red bandanna was tied round her head, below the level of her close-cropped red hair. "Oh, Captain Kraiklyn," she said, swinging her feet off the seat and leaning forward, her face showing shock and pity. "What happened?"
Horza tried to speak, but his throat was dry. He couldn't believe what he saw. His lips worked and he licked them with a dry tongue. The woman started to rise from the table, but he put out one hand and gestured her to stay where she was. She sat slowly back down, and he managed to say, "I'm all right. See you later. Just… just stay… there." Then he pushed himself away from the door and stumbled down the corridor to Kraiklyn's cabin. The ring fitted into the door, and it swung open. He almost fell inside.
In something like a trance he closed the door, stood there looking at the far bulkhead for a while, then slowly sat down, on the floor.
He knew he was still stunned, he knew his vision was still blurred and he wasn't hearing perfectly. He knew it was unlikely — or, if it wasn't, then it was very bad news indeed, but he was sure; absolutely certain. As certain as he had been about Kraiklyn when he first walked up that ramp to the Damage table, into the arena.
As though he hadn't had enough shocks for one evening, the sight of the woman sitting at the mess-room table had all but silenced him and stopped his mind from working. What was he going to do? He couldn't think. The shock was still resounding through his mind; the image seemed stuck
behind his eyes.
The woman in the mess room was Perosteck Balveda.
8. The Ends of Invention
Maybe she's a clone, Horza thought. Maybe it's coincidence. He sat on the floor of Kraiklyn's cabin — his cabin now — staring at the locker doors in the far wall; aware that he needed to do something, but not sure what it ought to be. His brain wasn't able to take all the knocks and shocks it had had. He needed to sit and think for a moment.
He tried telling himself he was mistaken, that it wasn't really her, that he was tired and confused and getting paranoid, seeing things. But he knew it was Balveda, though sufficiently altered so that probably only a close friend or a Changer could possibly recognise her, but definitely her, alive and well and probably armed to the teeth…
He got up, mechanically, still staring straight ahead. He took off the wet clothes and went out of the cabin, down to the wash area, where he left the clothes to dry and cleaned himself up. Back in the cabin he found a robe and put it on. He started inspecting the small, packed space and finally came across a small voice recorder. He flicked it back and listened.
"… ahhh… including, ahh, Yalson," Kraiklyn's voice said from the small speaker in the machine, "who I guess was, umm… in her relationship, with ahh… Horza Gobuchul. She's… been pretty abrupt, and I don't think I've had the support from her… which she… which I ought to get… I'll have a word with her if it goes on, but, ahhh… for now, during the repairs and such… there doesn't seem much point… I'm not putting off… ah… I just think we'll see how she shapes up after the Orbital's blown and we're on our way.
"Ahh… now this new woman… Gravant… she's all right. I get the impression she might… ah, need… need a bit of ordering around… seems to need discipline… I don't think she'll have, ah, too much conflict with anybody. Yalson, especially, I was worried about, but I don't think… ah, I think it'll be fine. But you can never tell with women, ah… of course, so… but I like her… I think she's got class and maybe… I don't know… maybe she could make a good number two if she shapes up.
"I really need more people… Umm… things haven't gone all that well recently, but I think I've been… they've let me down. Jandraligeli, obviously… and I don't know; I'll see if maybe I can do something about him because… he's really sort of just been… ahh… he's betrayed me; that's the way… that's what it is I think; anybody would agree. So maybe I'll have a word with Ghalssel, at the game, assuming he arrives… I don't think the guy's really up to standard and I'll tell Ghalssel as much because we're both… in the same, ah… business, and I'm… I know that he'll have heard… well, he'll listen to what I have to say, because he knows about the responsibilities of leadership and… just, ah… the way I do.
"Anyway… I'll do some more recruiting after the game, and after the GSV takes off there'll be some time… we have enough time still to run in this bay and I'll put the word out. There's bound to be… a lot of people ready to sign on… Ah, oh yeah; mustn't forget about the shuttle tomorrow. I'm sure I can get the price down. Ah, I could just win at the game, of course-" The small voice from the speaker laughed: a tinny echo."… and just be incredibly rich and-" The laughter came again, distorted."… and not give a fuck about any of this crap any more… shit, just… ha… give the CAT away… well, sell it… and retire… But we'll see…"
The voice faded. Horza switched off the machine in the silence. He put it down where he had found it, and rubbed the ring on the small finger of his right hand. Then he took off the robe and put his — his — suit on. It started talking to him; he told it to turn its voice off.
He looked at himself in the reverser field on the locker doors, drew himself up, made sure the plasma pistol strapped to his thigh was switched on, pushed the pains and tiredness to the back of his mind, then went out of the cabin and up the corridor to the mess.
Yalson and the woman who was Balveda were sitting talking in the long room, at the far end of the table under the screen, which had been turned off. They looked up when he came in. He went over and sat a couple of seats down from Yalson, who looked at his suit and said, "We going somewhere?"
"Maybe," Horza said, looking briefly at her, then switching his gaze to the Balveda woman, smiling and saying, "I'm sorry, Ms Gravant; but I'm afraid, having reconsidered your application, I have to turn you down. I'm sorry, but there's no place for you on the CAT. I hope you understand." He clasped his hands on the table and grinned again. Balveda — the more he looked the surer he was that it was her — looked crestfallen. Her mouth opened slightly; she looked from Horza to Yalson then back again. Yalson was frowning deeply.
"But-" Balveda began.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Yalson said angrily. "You can't just-"
"You see," Horza smiled, "I've decided that we need to cut down on the numbers on board, and-"
"What?" Yalson exploded, slapping the table with the palm of her hand. "That's six of us left! What the hell are six of us meant to do…?" Her voice trailed off, then came back lower and slower, her head twisting to one side, her eyes narrowing as she looked at him — "… Or have we just struck lucky in… oh, a game of chance perhaps, and don't want to cut in more directions than absolutely necessary?"
Horza looked briefly at Yalson again, smiled and said, "No, but you see I've just re-hired one of our ex-members, and that does alter the plans a bit… The place I had intended to slot Ms Gravant into in the ship's company is now filled."
"You got Jandraligeli to come back, after what you called him?" laughed Yalson, stretching back in her seat.
Horza shook his head.
"No, my dear," he said. "As I would have been able to tell you if you hadn't kept interrupting, I just met our friend Mr Gobuchul in Evanauth, and he's keen to rejoin."
"Horza?" Yalson seemed to shake a little, her voice on an edge of tension, and he could see her trying to control herself. Oh gods, a small voice inside him said, why does this hurt so much? Yalson said, "Is he alive? Are you sure it was him? Kraiklyn, are you?"
Horza switched his gaze rapidly from one woman to the other. Yalson was leaning forward over the table, her eyes glittering in the mess-room light, her fists clenched. Her lean body seemed tensed, the golden down on her dark skin shining. Balveda looked uncertain and confused. Horza saw her start to bite her lip, then stop.
"I wouldn't kid you about it, Yalson', Horza assured her. "Horza is alive and well, and not very far away." Horza looked at the repeater screen on his suit cuff, where the time showed. "As a matter of fact, I'm meeting him at one of the port reception spheres in… well, just before the GSV takes off. He said he had one or two things to work out in the city first. He said to say… ahhh… he hoped you were still betting on him…" He shrugged. "Something like that."
"You're not kidding!" Yalson said, her face creasing with a smile. She shook her head, put a hand through her hair, slapped the table softly a couple of times. "Oh…" she said, then sat back again in her seat. She looked from the woman to the man and shrugged, silent.
"So you see, Gravant, you just aren't needed right now," Horza told Balveda. The Culture agent opened her mouth, but it was Yalson who spoke first, coughing quickly and then saying.
"Oh, let her stay, Kraiklyn. What difference does it make?"
"The difference, Yalson," Horza said carefully, thinking hard about Kraiklyn, "is that I am captain of this ship."
Yalson seemed about to say something, but instead she turned to Balveda and spread her hands. She sat back, one hand picking at the edge of the table, her eyes lowered. She was trying not to smile too much.
"Well, Captain," Balveda said, rising from her seat, "you do know best. I'll get my gear." She walked quickly from the mess. Her footsteps merged with others, and Horza and Yalson both heard some muffled words. In a moment, Dorolow, Wubslin and Aviger, gaily dressed and looking flushed and happy, piled into the mess, the older man with his arm around the small, plump woman.
"Our captain!" Aviger shouted. Dorolow hel
d one of his hands at her shoulder. She smiled. Wubslin waved dreamily; the stocky engineer looked drunk. "Been at the wars, I see," Aviger went on, staring at Horza's face, which still showed signs of being in a fight, despite his internal attempts to minimise the damage.
"What has Gravant done, Kraiklyn?" Dorolow squeaked. She seemed merry, too, and her voice was even higher than he remembered it.
"Nothing," Horza said, smiling at the three mercenaries. "But we're getting Horza Gobuchul back from the dead, so I decided we didn't need her."
"Horza?" Wubslin said, his large mouth opening wide in an almost exaggerated expression of surprise. Dorolow looked past Horza at Yalson, the look on her face saying, "Is this true?" through her grin. Yalson shrugged and looked happily, hopefully, still slightly suspiciously, at the man she thought was Kraiklyn.
"He'll be coming aboard shortly before the Ends leaves," Horza said. "He had some sort of business in the city. Maybe something shady." Horza smiled in the condescending way Kraiklyn sometimes had. "Who knows?"
"There," Wubslin said, looking unsteadily at Aviger over Dorolow's stooped frame. "Maybe that guy was looking for Horza. Maybe we should warn him."
"What guy? Where?" Horza asked.
"He's seeing things," Aviger said, waving one hand. "Too much liverwine."
"Rubbish!" Wubslin said loudly, looking from Aviger to Horza, and nodding. "And a drone." He held both hands out in front of his face, palms together, then separated them by about a quarter-metre. "Little bugger. No bigger'n that."
"Where?" Horza shook his head. "Why do you think somebody might be after Horza?"
"Out there, under the traveltube," Aviger said, while Wubslin was saying:
"Way he came out of that capsule, like he expected to be in a fight any second, and… aww, I can just tell… that guy was… police… or something…"
"What about Mipp?" asked Dorolow. Horza was silent for a second, frowning at nothing and nobody in particular. "Did Horza mention Mipp?" Dorolow asked him.
Consider Phlebas c-1 Page 26