Alastair Reynolds - Poseidon's Wake

Neither would have anticipated this. Travertine was still only a little more than a light-week from Crucible — its voyage barely commenced. It felt limitlessly cruel of the universe to force this development on Ndege, as if she had not suffered enough already.

And yet she accepted it with what appeared to Goma to be extreme stoic forbearance. She spoke with dignity, acknowledging her sadness, yet proud that her brother had the courage to join the expedition, and the deeper courage to act to protect it. In the end, he had let none of them down — except Goma, perhaps, who would not now have his companionship and wisdom to draw on. Ndege was sorry for that, but she said there was a simple answer. What Mposi had been to Goma, Goma would now have to be to the rest of the expedition. Mposi’s qualities were in her — she just needed to find them.

‘You will not have to dig very deeply, daughter. I have confidence in you. I always have done. Now go, and choose wisely, and if it is within your capabilities, bring Mposi back to us. He came to love this hot, green world, and I think we owe it to him to bury him under a blue sky, under stars he would recognise. As for you — you already have my love, but if it were within my power I would send you twice as much of it. Be strong for me, be strong for Ru, be strong for the others, but above all else be strong for yourself. Good luck, my daughter.’

Goma’s first instinct was to reply at length, but on reflection she chose something simpler.

‘You say you should send twice your love, but you have already given me more than anyone ever deserved. Mposi isn’t here, but your good thoughts are. And in turn, I hope — I know — that you can feel mine. They wronged you, my mother, but you never hated them for it. And even when the world thought the least of you, I never wanted anyone else to be my mother. I am proud of my name, proud of what I am — proud of the place that shaped who I am, proud of the ancestors who stand behind me. I cannot replace Mposi — none of us could, except perhaps you. But I will do my best, and keep trying harder, and perhaps I will not disgrace his memory. And when this is done, I will bring Mposi home to Crucible.’

If more needed to be said, the words were not there. She did not even replay the transmission before committing it to deep space, arrowing back to her planet of birth.

She could expect a reply in under twenty days, allowing for time lag, but she did not think there would be an answer. They had said what they needed to say, absolving each other of a lifetime’s slow accumulation of unhappiness and bitterness and guilt. That was all gone now, wiped clean by a death.

When all that was left was love, words were superfluous.

The door opened at the command of her bangle. Goma stepped into the nearly darkened room, waiting a moment for her eyes to adjust to the low green lighting. The form on the bed stirred, sensing her uninvited presence. At first Grave appeared untroubled, thinking perhaps that he was receiving another inspection from the captain or the medical staff. But then he must have recognised that this was not one of his normal visitors.

‘Goma,’ he said, raising himself from the bed, speaking quietly. ‘How did you get in here? No one told me to expect you.’

Behind her the door closed automatically.

‘You made a mistake,’ Goma said.

‘Did I?’

‘You mentioned that Mposi showed you how to reprogram the bangles.’

In the green half-light she made out his frown, his sleepless eyes, wide awake yet full of exhaustion.

‘How was that a mistake, exactly?’

‘Because it told me it could be done. Once I know a thing’s possible, that’s halfway to figuring out how to make it happen. Neither you nor Mposi would have had access to security tools, so finding the reprogramming mode couldn’t have been particularly complicated.’

He gave a half-smile, equal parts amusement and anxiety. ‘And did you?’

‘No, it was too difficult. Even for Ru, and she’s ten times smarter than me. But I went to Aiyana. I knew ve’d be up to it.’

‘And was ve?’

‘Already had it figured out. But like a typical scientist, once the puzzle was unlocked, ve lost interest in it. It never occurred to Aiyana to open any doors ve wasn’t meant to.’

‘I’m surprised you mention Loring’s name. Isn’t that a little rash if what you’re doing is against all the rules of the ship? Won’t that get Loring into trouble as well?’

Goma had moved to his bedside. Grave was keeping an eye on her but making no effort to leave the bed. She wondered if he thought she might have a weapon.

‘There isn’t going to be any trouble,’ she said. ‘What do you think I’ve come to do — kill you?’

‘It crossed my mind.’

‘In a little while, Grave, you’ll be as good as dead anyway. I’d be a fool to jeopardise my own standing on the expedition, wouldn’t I?’

‘Then I’m not sure what the point of this little visit is.’

‘I think you killed my uncle.’

‘That does appear to be the consensus opinion. Well done for subscribing to it.’

‘Shut up.’ She grabbed a lock of his hair, twisted it hard from his scalp, not caring how much it hurt him. ‘Shut the fuck up, you piece of believer piss. I saw Mposi. I saw what was left of him. Whoever did that, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to them. Nothing so fucking vile that I wouldn’t consider it. And I do think you did it. But I can’t be sure. Not totally.’

She still had his hair in her hand. Grave made a guttural sort of noise, not quite a yelp, but it left her in no doubt as to the discomfort she was inflicting. Yet he made no effort to fight her, his own hands resting at his sides.

‘Here’s the thing,’ she said. ‘You’re going on ice. Three hundred years, Gandhari says. No one will speak to you until we get back home. But if there’s one thing I should know, one thing you think might make a difference to our chances, I want to know it now.’

‘For the sake of that tiny chink of doubt?’

She dug her nails into his scalp. ‘Fuck you. I think there’s about one chance in a thousand that you didn’t kill Mposi. That’s not a doubt, that’s an outlier. But I still want to know. One thing. Whatever you’ve got.’

‘Tantors,’ he said.

It was enough to slacken her hold on him. She withdrew her hand, allowed his head to slump back onto his pillow.

‘Tell me more.’

‘That’s the fear, Goma, the reason for a sabotage effort. There are some on the extreme edge of the movement who share your suspicions.’

‘My suspicions about what?’

‘That the Tantors might have survived, somewhere beyond Crucible. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Be honest — it isn’t to heed the call of a dear dead ancestor. It’s to find talking elephants.’

‘What do you know about Tantors?’

‘The same as everyone else. And one extra thing. If there was a sabotage plan, destroying Travertine would only have been a side effect of the real intention. They mean to murder your elephants, Goma.’

‘You told me you hate the sin of what they are, not the elephants themselves.’

‘That was true.’

‘And now?’

‘I think it would still be wrong to harm them.’

‘The captain found the explosives. If there are more, she’ll find them.’

‘I don’t doubt it. But explosives aren’t the only weapon, are they?’

‘What else?’

‘I have no idea. If I were allowed my liberty, I might have a chance of finding out.’

‘Gandhari shouldn’t stop at you,’ Goma said. ‘She should put all of you on ice.’

‘We’re a fifty-three-strong expedition. That would still leave forty-one other candidates.’