Alastair Reynolds - Poseidon's Wake

‘You regret that they happened?’

‘No! I regret that it took me so long to find you again. I regret that it took Mars, my death and Swift’s bargain to make it happen. I regret losing you in the first place, and I regret that this will always stand between us, worse than anything that ever happened before. I am truly sorry, Nissa, but there is nothing more I can offer beyond my apologies.’ After a moment, he added, ‘You needn’t worry about your return. The Margrave will take good care of you and make sure you reach the Outside in one piece.’

‘That’s it, then? My usefulness is over, but you’ve very thoughtfully considered my future welfare?’

‘It’s not like that.’

‘I’ll tell you what it’s like.’ Nissa stiffened her jaw. Her voice was calm initially, but anger was building behind it. ‘You saw me as a means to an end — a convenience. Had there been anyone else with the ability to get you to Europa, you’d have lied and schemed your way around them as well.’

‘That isn’t how I feel—’

‘I don’t give a shit how you feel.’ Now her voice turned into a snarl. ‘You’ve treated me like a piece of disposable equipment, a tool. Something you use once and throw away. And no matter what crocodile tears you manage to dredge up now, no matter what ersatz contrition, you went into this with cold-blooded calculation. You knew exactly what had to be done and exactly who had to be manipulated. You thought it through — planned it like a campaign. The happy accident of us meeting? Two old lovers reconnecting? Sleeping with me? You probably have it all worked out on a diagram.’

‘All of that was sincere—’

‘You’re a snake, Kanu. An emotionless reptile. It sickens me that I ever thought you possessed a human conscience. And do you know what? You haven’t just lied to me; you haven’t just betrayed me and wasted my time. You’ve fucked up my work. You’ve fucked up everything I planned to do on Europa — years of planning, years of devotion to the memory of your stupid dead grandmother and her fucking art.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’ She parroted him with a sneer. ‘That’s all you’ve got, isn’t it? But what more should I expect? You’re a diplomat. You’re used to words making everything right. Not now, though. You don’t get out of this with a few spoken charms. But why am I even bothering? Why am I deluding myself that this conversation means a damn thing to you? As soon as you’re on your ship, you’ll be off and away — and you won’t have to give me a second’s consideration after that.’

‘I will. You’re wrong about me — wrong about how I feel. If there’s a way I can make this right—’

‘There isn’t. Not now, not ever.’

A rising, piston-like movement caught his eye. It was the Margrave returning to the room. Kanu’s vision had adapted to the gloom since his arrival and he spied more of the Margrave’s dark anatomy and regalia, gaining a clearer sense of bony integuments and hard, hornlike growths.

‘I had hoped they would see more sense,’ their host said. ‘Our rash friends, the ones who hampered your arrival?’

‘The ones you skewered?’ Kanu asked.

‘We only skewered one,’ the Margrave countered, as if this was acceptable. ‘The ringleader. To send a message to the others not to trouble my jurisdictional waters again.’

Nissa asked, ‘And did it work?’

‘Not quite as I had intended. I am afraid that they have been gathering in greater numbers around the limits of Underthrace ever since your arrival. Of course, this happens from time to time and they are always rebuffed. But the present concentration… I regret that I may have precipitated something closer to civil war.’

‘Are we in danger?’ Kanu asked.

‘No! Not in the slightest. Underthrace will hold. The lines will not be crossed.’

The king’s grip was faltering, Kanu sensed. It might have been faltering for months or years but their arrival must have quickened some underlying process of collapse.

‘Can you guarantee it, Margrave?’

‘As my life is my word. The Consolidation forces are of no concern to you, either.’

Kanu looked at Nissa, then back at the Margrave. ‘What about them?’

‘They’ve landed. Six of their enforcement ships are now on our ice. I believe they intend to exploit the internal difficulties we are currently facing. Foolish beyond words — and displaying their utter contempt for the mutual respect of treaties and rights!’

‘This isn’t a coincidence, is it?’ Nissa said. ‘The Consolidation hasn’t just randomly chosen this exact moment to retake Europa. We’ve brought it about, just by coming here.’

‘You may have provided the distraction they were hoping for,’ the Margrave said.

‘Nissa’s safety is paramount,’ Kanu said. ‘Whatever it takes, she mustn’t come to harm.’

‘Nissa can take care of herself,’ Nissa said. ‘In fact, I’m leaving now, before this whole fucking moon blows up.’

‘What about the art?’ the Margrave asked.

‘You think I give a damn about that now? Get me back to Fall of Night . If I have to fight my way to the ice, I will.’

‘The art belongs to Nissa now,’ Kanu said, rising effortlessly from his chair. ‘Look after it, Margrave — it’s hers when she returns. And I know she will, one day. Nissa spent years putting this trip together — she deserves better than to have it end like this.’

‘Will she be in trouble?’ the Margrave asked. ‘Your departure will not go unnoticed, Kanu, especially not now.’

‘When I’m on my way and safely out of reach, I’ll issue a statement clarifying that Nissa was an innocent party in all this.’

If he had expected some token of gratitude for this promised gesture, none was forthcoming. Her anger was still there, contained like the water in the glass — megapascals of it.

‘Don’t waste your precious breath, Kanu.’

The Margrave escorted Kanu deeper into the bowels of Underthrace, until at last they reached the flooded vault in which the Akinya ship lay waiting, entombed these past hundred years. They viewed it from a gallery, floodlights scratching out across the water to compensate for the feebleness of Kanu’s eyes. The Margrave, floating next to him in an extension of his water-filled pipe, had placed another pair of goggles over those he already wore. This must be a sun-bright blaze to him, Kanu thought, like the inside of a furnace.

‘Thank you for looking after it.’

‘I can’t promise it will work. That’s your business. But we have kept the ship in the minimally powered configuration your family stipulated and supplied it with the raw materials it requested to upgrade itself. If it fails to function, I would rather not accept the blame.’

‘If it fails, I doubt very much there’ll be anyone around to parcel out blame.’

The ship had been built for compactness, but even Kanu was surprised by how small it looked, enclosed within the walls of this larger structure. It had been conceived for exploration rather than the conveyance of cargo or passengers. A kilometre tall, was his recollection, but it looked smaller to his eyes. It was torpedo-shaped, a cylinder with rounded ends and a few angular bumps and protrusions to mar its basic symmetry.

‘I’d like to go aboard.’

‘Of course. It’s your ship.’

‘Does it have a name?’

‘Not yet.’

The Margrave showed him to the connecting bridge. The aquatic could come no further — the ship was not equipped for water-breathers — but Kanu had no great need of a guide. As he stepped aboard, the ship recognised him like an old friend. It was reading his DNA and his body’s morphology, plumbing the deep mysteries of his mind — verifying, to its own satisfaction, that he met the required criteria.