Alastair Reynolds - Poseidon's Wake

‘I can, nonetheless, assist with your search.’

The ambassadors looked at each other. Korsakov started to say something, but Kanu raised a hand.

‘No, it makes sense. One of him can do the work of four of us in about a thousandth of the time.’

‘I would not go quite that far,’ Swift said, ‘but I can certainly make a difference, given the time you have remaining.’

‘Yevgeny,’ said Dalal, ‘can you call up the sensor search on different consoles?’

‘It’s done. Five consoles — four for us and one for the machine. I’m already running a visual and infrared search on decks twelve to eighteen — don’t bother duplicating my efforts.’

‘We won’t,’ Kanu said.

The consoles were simple to use, and it did not take long to run at least a cursory search on each deck. They were looking for the obvious: survivors or bodies, in plain view. If people were hidden away in lockers, out of the reach of the sensors, there was nothing the ambassadors could do about it.

‘In ten minutes we’ll need to be on our way back down,’ Dalal announced. ‘And that’s assuming we cut our margins to the bone.’

‘Our margin is still good,’ Kanu said. He had searched half of his allotted area of the ship, seeing only empty corridors and service shafts, plus the occasional vault-like cargo bay. Since some of the bays retained pressure, there might be survivors hidden among the ranks of cargo pallets. But unless they made themselves known, they were going to remain there.

‘Wait,’ Lucien said, stepping back from vis console, vis gloved fingers spread wide. ‘I’ve just been locked out.’

After a moment, Dalal said, ‘And me.’

‘The fault has spread to my console as well,’ Swift said, his hands becoming a blur on the controls.

Kanu was also unable to continue his search, and he noticed Korsakov suffering the same problem. The schematics had vanished. All the displays were showing the same thing: a block of Swahili, appearing and disappearing over and over.

IN THE NAME OF HUMANITY WE RECLAIM THIS WORLD FOR PEOPLE! LET THIS BE THE FIRST LIGHT OF A NEW MARTIAN DAWN! LET FIRE CLEANSE THE FACE OF MARS IN READINESS FOR THE RECLAMATION!

‘The message was almost certainly meant to be read by robots, rather than humans,’ Swift said. ‘They would have been counting on us reaching the wreck in advance of any diplomatic party. Had you not arrived first, we would have triggered exactly this response.’

‘We’re leaving,’ Dalal said. ‘This instant.’

‘For once,’ Kanu said, ‘I think you’ll find the four of us in unanimous agreement.’

The elevator returned them to the level where they had boarded. They still had to pass through the airlock, but for the first time Kanu allowed himself to hope they might yet make it our alive.

‘Lucien is the newest ambassador,’ Dalal said. ‘Ve should go first. It’s only fair.’

‘Agreed,’ Kanu said. ‘It’s settled. Lucien first. Then you, Garudi. Yevgeny next, then me. Strict order of hierarchy, and save the arguing for later.’

Korsakov said, ‘You mean to be last, Kanu?’

‘Makes sense — I’ve been on Mars the longest.’

‘I won’t leave this ship with a robot still inside it, free to do what it likes with a human asset.’

Kanu had to stop himself seizing the other man by the shoulders. ‘Get some perspective, Yev. We were about to hand it over to the machines anyway.’

The lock was ready to receive Lucien. As the door closed, Dalal said, ‘Don’t wait for us outside. Get back to the flier and prepare to leave.’

Lucien gave a nod through vis visor as the door closed. Kanu watched the airlock indicators crawl through their automatic cycle.

‘I’m clear,’ Lucien said, after what felt like an eternity. ‘Jumping off.’ There was a thump, an intake of breath. ‘Down and moving. Flier is intact.’

‘Lock’s cycling for Garudi,’ Kanu said.

‘I could attempt to force the mechanism to open both doors at the same time,’ Swift said.

‘And risk jamming it completely?’ Korsakov said. ‘No. We’ll leave the way we came in.’

Finally the lock was ready to accept Dalal. She stepped inside, turned away from the door and initiated the cycle. The door sealed and the interminable process recommenced. Air out, door open, air in again. Kanu cursed the intransigent stupidity of the airlock for not understanding their deeper predicament.

‘I’m out,’ Dalal said. ‘Crossing ground. Lucien is at the flier. Are you all right?’

‘Yes, we’re fine. Yevgeny’s next.’

It could only have taken as long for Korsakov to cycle through the lock as the other two, but to Kanu it felt like at least twice as much time. Now there was so little to lose, he wondered if perhaps Swift ought to force the lock after all.

But the air was pumping back in now. Korsakov was outside.

‘Are you clear, Yev?’

‘I see the flier. Lucien and Garudi are aboard. She should have moved it by now — why is she delaying?’

‘Out of some misplaced concern for your well-being, perhaps?’

‘You should be next,’ Swift said.

‘No,’ Kanu answered. ‘You’re a witness to this and I want you to survive. If and when you make it back to your friends, they need to know that this was a terrorist act.’

‘My friends already know, Kanu.’

‘Maybe they do. But for my peace of mind, you’re still going first.’

Swift gave a perfunctory nod. ‘If you insist.’

‘I do.’

The lock was ready to accept Swift. He was on the verge of entering it when there came a sudden sharp blur of motion and Swift was on the other side of Kanu, the airlock vacant, and Kanu was being pushed — shoved was closer to the truth — into the waiting aperture.

‘Swift, no!’

‘It is within my capability to help you, Kanu. Therefore I have no option.’

Before he could act, Swift had pushed enough of himself into the lock to be able to activate the automatic sequence. It was a snakelike striking motion, almost too fast for the eye to follow. Kanu barely had time to register what had happened, let alone abort the lock sequence. Swift withdrew, the door sealed and the exchangers began to drag air out of the chamber.

‘The terms of our inspection visit are still in force, Swift! We have our one hour! It has not expired!’

‘Which is precisely why I will be joining you on the other side the moment the lock allows it.’

When the door opened, Kanu had to stop himself toppling out. He had climbed up on the way in but now he chanced a jump, hingeing his legs to absorb the impact and trusting that the reduced gravity of Mars would spare him any injury. He hit the dirt and sprawled, nearly burying his visor in the soil. He grunted, gathered air into his lungs and pushed himself to his feet. He was still alive, and Korsakov was just vanishing into the belly of the flier. ‘I’m clear!’ he called. ‘But Swift is still coming through.’

Korsakov and the others would have heard something of the exchange between Kanu and the robot, even if its meaning were unclear. ‘Why did you allow—’

‘I didn’t!’

Kanu set about crossing the ground to the flier. It really was not very far, but after a dozen paces he felt compelled to turn back, anxious to see Swift appear in the open lock. He wanted Swift to be true to his word, to be the sincere and honest friend he had always believed in.

The ship blew up.

It was not a nuclear blast or metallic-hydrogen phase change; it was not the flare-up of a runaway Chibesa motor. It was not the swallowing whiteness of an unbound post-Chibesa process, the kind of catastrophic event that had destroyed entire holoships.

It was still an explosion.