Neal Asher: The Engineer Reconditioned

Tamsin waited a moment or two then moved over to the big man and stood next to him. Ghort abruptly pulled himself upright and brushed dirt from his forehead. He sighed, then abruptly turned and studied Tamsin.

“You saw?” he asked.

“I saw, but I’m not sure what I saw,” said Tamsin.

“What you saw,” said Ghort contemplatively. He went on, “What you saw was the Owner. Surely you realise that?”

“I don’t believe in gods or supernatural beings. Everything has a reason,” said Tamsin.

“Yes, you’re sure of that,” said Ghort, observing him. “You are very unusual in your attitude to life. Practically unique. It’s probably why he let you see him.”

“Let me?”

“Don’t believe for one moment that he wasn’t aware of your presence,” said Ghort. Tamsin closed his eyes and tried to straighten things out in the storm that was raging between his ears. “I do not believe in gods or supernatural beings,” he said stubbornly. He opened his eyes when Ghort’s hand clamped on his shoulder.

“He is not a god nor a supernatural being, Tamsin. What he is is a ten thousand year old man with the power of a god and command of a technology that seems almost supernatural.” Tamsin suddenly felt very calm as things began to click into place.

“We… we knew more,” he said.

“Yes, you did,” replied Ghort.

“Who then, are you?” Tamsin asked.

Ghort slipped his hand from Tamsin’s shoulder and cupped Tamsin’s soul pendant in his palm. His expression was almost wistful.

“These are your blessing, for you will never die. For the very same reasons they are my curse. You have believed that your souls are kept safe in your pendant after you die until the time that they transmigrate to heaven. How much truth can you stand, Tamsin?”

“All of it. Only truth is important.”

“Very well. You are recorded to your pendant and when you die that recording is transmitted to the Owner’s database. You essentially become part of him; a very small part of an immensely powerful mind. With me that does not happen. I am my pendant and there is no transmission. I have died and woken in a crib more times than I care to remember.”

Tamsin was silent for a long moment.

“I do not understand all your words,” he said, “but I will. Now we must return to the Wishpool to find out what has happened. Then I think we must pursue my brother.” He paused then pulled his pendant from Ghort’s hand. Ghort dropped his hand to his side. Tamsin went on, “Would the Owner accept the soul of a murderer?”

Ghort said, “Oh yes, he accepts all information.”

Baum, Torril, and three others lay dead. By the time Ghort and Tamsin had reached the pool the corpses had been laid out side by side and their pendants removed. Chand wept over the body of her husband and Ephis sat by her father. Tamsin wondered what comfort the truth would be to them. Most love, he realised, is selfish, and all they knew was that who they loved was gone. Tamsin walked over to Chester, who was now village elder.

“What of my brother?” he asked.

Chester glanced up, a mass of pendants clutched in his hand.

“Your brother? Your brother ran into the Rhode when no more charge remained in the weapon. A weapon that was your responsibility, Tamsin Logisticson.”

“I will get it back,” said Tamsin.

“Best you do that, boy, but before you do, go take a look at the corpse on the end there. Perhaps sight of it will stiffen your sinews.”

It was Jeleel. Tamsin could only feel horror and bewilderment at what Sapher had done to her. A fast anger and faster knife he could understand. What had been done to Jeleel had taken time. He stepped back and gazed around at the villagers. Many of them were walking around with stunned expressions, and leaden movement. He turned to Ghort.

“My brother must be found. Will you come with me?”

Ghort nodded as he surveyed the scene. “I’ll come, but Tamsin, what will you do when you find your brother?”

“I don’t know yet. But he must never come back.”

They set out just as it was becoming dark, into the perfumed undershadows of the Rhode.

“We could wait until morning, but daylight is my brother’s friend.” The steel eye of the moon provided enough silvery light to make travelling a possibility. In an hour they had reached the edge of the Rhode and were gazing out across the Plain of Landing.

“You sure this is right?” asked Ghort.

Tamsin said, “I am not the tracker my brother is, but I would guess he has headed for the Ship. The place has always held an attraction for him. Tell me, were you on that ship?”

“I was not. You people had been here some time when I arrived.”

“Where did you come from?”

“Another world, originally. The Great Ship at the last.” Ghort pointed to the moon as he said this and Tamsin wondered what he might mean. He knew about other worlds. The teaching was that they had come from another world to this one — a world that was owned. The Owner had agreed to let them stay under certain terms. Thus the Agreement had been made. But the Great Ship? What was that? It seemed now that everything Ghort said raised another question.

“Was the Great Ship like ours? Tell me about it,” he said, and while they travelled, Ghort did that thing. The long grasses of the plain rustled all around them in the night breezes. They heard the coughing growl of a tiger in the night, but it was not a sound that held any fear for them. Tigers will not attack men. It was written. An hour’s travelling brought the Ship within sight; a broken shell of metal lying at the end of the gully it had cut many centuries ago. They stopped and crouched down.

“Let us move quietly now,” said Tamsin. He had heard enough for a while. His head felt bloated with words, with confirmations and denials. He understood that what was religion to his fellows was just historical fact. He understood that the Agreement was real, but that worship was inappropriate. Much more he had yet to sort out in his mind. He glanced at Ghort, but the big man was looking away from him. He was staring back the way they had come. Tamsin followed the direction of his gaze. The tiger sat on its haunches with its tail flicking. Its eyes were silver stars and moonlight glinted on the moisture on its fur. It was magnificent; a full grown adult in its prime, easily capable of snapping a man’s spine with one swipe of its paw.

“Would Sapher have gone up against him,” said Tamsin, surprised at his own bitterness.

“Perhaps — he is sick enough,” said Ghort, and as if his words were an acknowledgement and a dismissal. The tiger growled then slid into the shadows. They listened to its hissing progress as it passed them and went deeper into the grasses. The silence that followed was broken only when Tamsin signalled that they should move in. This they quickly did.

The Ship was grey metal upon a lattice of white metal struts. It lay like a scattering of the broken eggs of some titanic bird. Monoliths of hull metal rose out of the ground. Skeletal lattice glinted in the moonlight where hull metal had been stripped away. This was all that remained. The contents of the ship had either been taken out over the centuries or decayed to dust. Grasses grew inside the shell and vines crept up the slick metal. With geologic slowness nature reclaimed what had been taken from it. Tamsin held his spear in readiness but did not know how he would react should he encounter his brother. They moved into the shadows cast by the ancient hull then split to search the length of the ship. Soon they returned to the centre.

“I felt sure he would come here,” said Tamsin. “It’s where he always ran when we were children. It’s where he hid when he did something wrong.”