Alastair Reynolds - On the Steel Breeze

‘I did ask you nicely,’ Travertine said.

In the instant of the action, it looked to Chiku as if Travertine had misjudged the swing of vis punch. Unsurprising given that ve had probably never initiated a violent act against another person in vis entire life.

But Travertine’s aim was truer than it looked. Ve had swung with vis right arm, and while Travertine’s fist failed to connect with Aziba’s jaw, vis bracelet did not. Chiku winced at the sound of the impact.

Dr Aziba dropped instantly, clattering into three of the cases. He landed on his back, spreadeagled, one leg hooked over a case, and remained perfectly still.

Relieved of the pressure of the physician’s foot, Chiku pushed herself to standing. She wondered if Dr Aziba might be dead, murdered by a single punch. But Travertine had other, more immediate concerns. Namboze was still digging through one of the medical supply cases, tossing hypodermics and vials aside to form a happy little jumble of different colours, like the contents of a box of crayons. Travertine stomped down hard on the lid, crushing it onto Namboze’s fingers. She yelped, hissed and toppled back onto her haunches, her hand still stuck in the box.

‘What are you looking for?’ Travertine asked. ‘Something to knock Chiku out? Something to put her into a coma?’

‘Surely you can’t be defending her!’ Namboze snarled. ‘She’s done bad things to all of us, but she did the worst to you! She turned you into a monster that children have nightmares about! How can you possibly side with her?’

‘I’m not siding with anyone – I don’t do “siding”.’ But the angry Namboze was not the focus of Travertine’s attention. Ve knelt by the unmoving physician and peeled back his eyelids.

‘Is he dead?’ Chiku asked.

‘Just out cold – I think. He’s the doctor.’

‘You hit him pretty hard.’

‘It felt like the proportionate response under the circumstances.’ Travertine rubbed at vis forearm, squeezing the muscles with a sort of surprised admiration.

Chiku pinched the bridge of her nose and screwed up her eyes. She had a dreadful hammer-pounding-anvil headache. ‘I thought we were better than this.’

‘We’re human. Be thankful we’ve moved on from clubbing each other’s brains out every five minutes.’

Namboze had extricated her hand from the medical case. She tested her fingers one by one. Lines of fury notched her forehead, so neat and regular they might have been scribed into place. ‘This isn’t right.’

‘No, it isn’t,’ Travertine agreed. ‘It’s massively wrong, all of it. It’s wrong that we’re hostages of an artificial intelligence, wrong that Guochang is dead, wrong that there are twenty-two mysterious alien machines hovering over us right now, wrong that Chiku was put in a position where she had to make that sick abomination of a decision. And yes, it was wrong of her to take it! But she had three hundred fucking seconds, Namboze. Can you honestly say you’d have done any better? Can any of us?’

Dr Aziba murmured something that shaped itself into a powerful groan as he came around. He reached up to examine the area of his jaw where Travertine’s impact had already begun to draw a vivid purplish discolouration.

‘What just happened?’

‘Democracy,’ Travertine said. ‘Now can we please get on with the day? We have a long walk ahead of us.’

Namboze, still massaging her bruised fingers, knelt down next to the physician.

‘Do it your way, then, Travertine. We’ll move out in two parties. Aziba and I can travel alone.’

‘No,’ Chiku said. ‘We do this together or not at all. You’re right to be angry with me. Travertine said it best: it’s all wrong, all of it. I don’t regret my decision – what would be the point? But she should never have let me make it, and I shouldn’t have allowed her to convince me it was for the best. But I did what I did, and now we’re here, and we need each other – even more so now that Guochang’s gone.’

‘I don’t need anything you’ve got left to offer,’ Namboze said, with a dismissive shake of her head.

‘Think about it rationally for a moment, Gonithi,’ Chiku persisted. ‘We each have a unique skill set. You know the ecology better than the rest of us. Aziba’s the only one who can keep the four of us alive – god alone knows what’ll get into our bloodstreams if we so much as scratch ourselves out there. And Travertine, well… ve’s Travertine. We need ver.’

‘And you?’ Doctor Aziba asked. ‘What do you bring to our merry party, exactly?’

‘I’m going to see us through this. There’s a ship on its way. I want to be there when it lands.’

‘That’s all?’ Namboze asked.

‘She gave you your answer,’ Travertine said, stooping to pick up vis backpack.

Another voice said: ‘It’s good that you’re ready. I must inform you, though, that there’s been a development.’

As one they turned to face Arachne. She was standing at the threshold of the long glass corridor as if she had been there the whole time, watching their little kerfuffle.

‘What kept you?’ Travertine asked.

‘I was otherwise occupied. I also sensed that my presence might have been more of a hindrance than a benefit, at least while you worked through your differences.’

‘What could possibly occupy all of you?’ Namboze asked. ‘You’re an artilect – you can be anywhere you wish – in more than one place at the same time, if you like.’

‘Have you noticed,’ Arachne asked, ‘that it’s become much darker than it was only half an hour ago?’

A glance through the glass wall of the tunnel confirmed her words, although the change had come upon them so gradually that Chiku had barely noticed it. Perhaps Travertine had been wrong about it being dawn when the three of them had been brought here, and the sun had only just dipped below the horizon. Perhaps another bombardment had increased the thickness of the dust blanketing the planet.

But Chiku sensed that it was neither of these things.

‘What’s happened now?’

‘It’ll be much easier if you see it for yourselves. We should have a clear view of the sky a little way from here. Are you prepared for exposure to Crucible’s atmosphere?’

‘Came twenty-eight light-years to live in it,’ Travertine said. ‘Might as well start getting used to it.’

Ve reached down for a breather mask and tossed it to Chiku.

They ran through the basic safety tests in five minutes, and then Arachne led them to the flat circular cap at the end of the short corridor. Chiku had assumed it was made of the same glasslike material as the walls, but as Arachne pushed her hand against it, the material neither buckled nor resisted, but permitted her hand to travel through into the air beyond.

‘A containment membrane,’ she said. ‘There would have been interfaces like this at all the city gates, allowing easy passage in and out. I don’t suppose it really matters now if Crucible’s airs and microorganisms infiltrate this space, but we may as well leave it in place and pass through as intended. Follow me. I’ll be waiting on the other side.’

‘No,’ Chiku said, resting a hand on the girl’s shoulder. ‘Gonithi should go first.’

‘She’s probably been out there many times already, so I won’t really be the first,’ Namboze said.

‘Even so,’ Chiku said, nodding, ‘she’s a robot and so she doesn’t really count. This is the world you’ve waited for all these years – be the first human to set foot on it, Gonithi.’

‘What are you waiting for, woman?’ Travertine said. ‘It really is the opportunity of a lifetime – don’t waste it.’

Namboze hesitated, as if she considered it a point of principle to argue against Chiku, but something in her relented. She mouthed a word Chiku did not catch, eased the breather mask fully into place and pushed a hand and a leg through the containment membrane. The material oozed around her with gluey intelligence as she pushed her face and body through, then snapped back to an unbroken membrane with an audible pop. Namboze was on the other side now.