Poseidon's Wake - Страница 10

‘Twelve years ago.’

‘Long before Mposi came to me about his signal — agreed. But close enough to Travertine’s prediction to raise goosebumps. And you see how ve underlined this star in particular? Out of all the candidates, Gliese 163 was the nearest, the most likely to have habitable worlds. Travertine always suspected it was the target of the Mandala signal.’

Goma was silent. There was a possibility, she supposed, that the list of stars and dates was a hoax, recently engineered by her mother. But Ndege had no history of that sort of fabrication. More than that, a hoax would serve no obvious purpose, benefiting neither of them.

‘I don’t know what to make of this.’

‘Someone sent us a signal, Goma. It was a human message. Personal. It said “Send Ndege”. Someone knew my name. How could that have happened if there were no people in the Gliese 163 system? And how could people have got there, if not aboard Zanzibar?’

‘Zanzibar was destroyed!’

‘Some of it, maybe, but not necessarily all of it. How much rubble is in the ring system, anyway? Travertine didn’t think the mass added up. Ve believed there was a significant discrepancy — that a huge chunk of Zanzibar was never accounted for. Of course, no one else gave a damn.’

‘Because it’s madness.’

‘Someone still needs to go there and find out. I would, if I were younger. But instead my brave daughter will take my place. Don’t think I’m not proud of you, Goma, but you’ll allow me a little jealousy.’

‘I’m jealous of you. You had the chance to live and walk among the Tantors. You knew them.’

‘I did, and it was wonderful. While we’re on the subject, though? When the event happened, most of the Tantors were still on Zanzibar. We’ve assumed all this time that they were killed, lost to history. A wonderful promise squandered. Believe me, I’ve felt my share of that loss. But if something survived the translation, then there’s a chance the Tantors did, too.’ Ndege looked down at her fingers, lost in herself for a few seconds. ‘It occurred to me that perhaps Ru would find this of interest.’

Goma had gone so long without allowing herself hope that it was rather odd to feel that all the doors were not yet locked. But Ndege knew both of them well enough. Tantors were the answer to any argument.

‘She might not believe me.’

‘She doesn’t need to. The mere possibility that there might be Tantors will be enough. Admit it, Goma — you’re the same.’

‘You said this could get both of us into trouble.’

‘I did, and I meant it. But if it made a difference to Ru’s decision, then I think the risk would be worth it, for both of us.’

‘I…’ Goma began.

‘You don’t know what to say. That’s understandable. You don’t know whether you’ve been given a bomb or a gift. My suggestion? Use it wisely. You’ll only have one chance with Ru.’

‘Thank you,’ Goma answered.

Ndege returned the slip of paper to Gulliver’s Travels, tapped the book against her table and then rose to replace it in the bookcase. She flashed a quick smile and then it was gone. ‘I await developments, daughter.’

CHAPTER FOUR

Kanu and the robot trod water next to each other. They were in a wide, calm sea, nothing but ocean and sky to the limit of vision. Swimming was natural enough for Kanu — he was always happier in water than on land — but the thought of the robot having to share the same unforgiving element struck him as both comical and ludicrous, a profound violation of all that was right and proper.

‘Aren’t you made of metal?’ he kept asking. ‘Aren’t you too heavy for this sort of thing?’

‘So are you,’ Swift answered every time. His frock coat looked heavy and sodden.

‘But I only have to swim a little bit to support my weight.’

‘That’s your problem,’ Swift said. ‘You’re not moving at all!’

It had been Kanu’s move for quite some time, but whenever he felt himself on the threshold of committing, some doubt stayed his hand. The longer he delayed his move, the worse the indecision became.

‘Well, then,’ Swift said, obligingly enough, ‘I shall simply make another move while you think about it.’

‘Is that in the rules?’

‘Different rules for different times. We have to think innovatively now. It’s no good being held back by old patterns.’

Swift picked up one of his own pieces, a knight, preparing to place it on the floating board. The chessboard rose and fell on the gentlest of swells, hingeing in the middle in a manner that made Kanu think of the languid wingbeat of a giant manta ray.

It was odd, now that he paid proper attention to it, that all the pieces were the same colour. Kanu did not appear to have any of his own on the board.

Then Swift lost his grip on the knight. It slipped from his fingers, bounced off the side of the board and vanished under the water.

‘I’ll fetch it,’ Kanu said.

‘Would you be so kind?’

Kanu submerged. The sun’s dazzle was kinder under the waves and its trembling light fell on the sinking chess piece. As the knight descended, a string of bubbles left the horse’s mouth. Kanu snatched for it, but his fingers closed on water. The knight was still falling.

Kanu followed it into darker, cooler waters. Never mind, he was made for this. He could stay submerged for as long as a sperm whale and dive just as deep. Already he could feel the old engine of his heart beginning to slow, the blood leaving his extremities.

But even with his webbed hands and feet, it was becoming harder to match the speed of the knight’s descent. The water was almost totally black now, the chess piece’s progress marked only by the silvery thread of its bubbles.

There was something below him.

It was a huge form, a concentration of deeper blackness, ink upon ink. He thought for a moment that it was a pinnacle, a summit pushing up from the ocean’s bed. But the black thing was rising to meet him. It was a wonder he could see it at all; even more of a wonder that the trail of bubbles was still silver-bright. He redoubled his efforts, grasping for it even as he pulled himself deeper. The knight was headed straight for the rising blackness. Within the blackness, a mouth began to open and kept opening, angling ever wider, a tunnel of blackness within blackness. The knight descended into it and the mouth clamped suddenly shut, scissoring the chain of bubbles.

‘You ought to turn around, Kanu.’

He knew her voice, and he knew her name.

Arethusa.

‘I have your knight. I’ve swallowed it. I’ve Jonahed it into the belly of the whale. Would you like it back?’

‘It’s Swift’s knight, not mine.’

‘You can have it if you swim into me. Look, I’m opening my mouth again. Just swim inside and collect what’s yours. Or give up and turn back to the light.’

‘I don’t know what to do.’

‘You could die. That would solve a lot of problems. You want to die, don’t you? You were hurt so very badly, Kanu — no one would blame you.’

‘I wasn’t hurt.’

‘You died on Mars. Or don’t you remember?’

He pulled himself away from the whale. The knight was unimportant. He rose and rose. His heart quickened, his blood resuming its normal circulation. He caught up with the knight’s bubble trail and clung to it like a rope, so that it hauled him all the way to the bright trembling of the surface waters.

And then he broke free into air and daylight, except that Swift was gone and so was the chessboard.

There was a boat nearby. He swam to it, and a beautiful woman with a broad face and kind eyes leaned over the side and made to help him out of the water.

‘I’m strong enough to do it myself.’

‘No, you’re not,’ she said. ‘You’re on Mars, and you’re dead.’

‘Kanu,’ the voice was saying. ‘Can you answer me? The neural traces suggest the presence of deep-level comprehension, but I would be very happy to have it confirmed. Try to speak. Try to say a word or two.’

After an age, he felt he had the strength and focus to oblige. ‘Swift.’

‘Yes!’

‘What happened?’

‘That’s your question — what happened? Not where am I? What kind of condition am I in?’

‘I’m alive.’

‘You are alive, yes. But only by the narrowest of margins.’

After a while, Kanu repeated: ‘What happened?’

‘Do you remember the terrorist incident? There was an explosion, quite a big one.’

Kanu did his best to remember. ‘Dalal… Korsakov. Lucien.’

‘It was very bad.’

Something important occurred to him. ‘I can’t see.’

‘You will, shortly. Some wiring still needs to be reconnected.’

‘What about the others?’

‘Regrettably,’ Swift said, ‘there were fatalities.’

A room, this time. He thought for a moment that he was in the embassy, but the view through the window was wrong. Beyond the glass was a kind of cityscape, except it was no city he had ever known. There were illuminated buildings, conforming less to human architecture than the flanged, angular proportions of ancient radio components. Between the buildings, and linking them, were thick, glowing arms. In place of a sky was a rising vault of excavated rock.

Swift was sitting opposite him. A low table had been set between their chairs, but it was mercifully free of a chessboard.