Poseidon's Wake

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

On Mposi they watched and listened as Kanu informed them that his crew had survived the Terror but were now about to abandon ship. This was no great surprise — he had already mentioned the lander — but privately they had all hoped for some new last-minute opportunity, something that might yet give Kanu a chance of avoiding direct contact with Poseidon.

It was not to be. The larger ship was now within one thousand kilometres of the top of Poseidon’s atmosphere and still travelling far too quickly to survive contact with the air. Finally the drive shut down, Icebreaker entering terminal free-fall, and the lander detached itself. They could see it with their sensors at maximum magnification: it was a tenth the size of the starship, a plump deltoid with a stubby tail fin. Goma had seen similar vehicles in the civic museums in Guochang and Namboze, preserved since the early days of Crucible’s settlement. She knew very well that they had not been designed for the gruelling environment of a sweltering superterran world such as Poseidon.

The lander fired its control thrusters and opened up the distance from its mother craft. Once it had achieved a kilometre of separation, Noah’s own engine started up, trying to whittle down yet more residual velocity before it met the friction of the upper atmosphere. From Mposi’s point of view, Poseidon’s visible face was half in day and half in night, with the two ships tiny bright points against the darkening line of the terminator.

‘I hate to state the obvious,’ Eunice said, glaring at her wrists which had just been freed of the restraints, ‘but Kanu won’t have achieved much if the Risen still end up crushed to death under the re-entry loads.’

‘He’ll have gained the world,’ Goma said, ‘because when he had a choice, he did the human thing.’

‘You mean the futile thing.’

‘If you want to start passing as one of us, start thinking a little less analytically. Would you really have allowed the Risen to die?’

‘Dakota? In a heartbeat.’

‘And the others? We know there are more of them aboard.’

She met this with a non-answer of pursed lips. But it was enough for Goma to know that Eunice had her limits.

‘I’ve signalled Nasim,’ Vasin said, without much enthusiasm in her voice. ‘Told him to bring Travertine in on a fast rendezvous. We can’t do a thing for Kanu, but we have a transatmospheric lander on the main ship. If all else fails, we could send it down under autonomous control.’

Goma nodded — it was the right thing to do, but even if it did get anywhere near the surface, it would make no difference to Kanu’s chances. On the scale of a solar system, especially a compact one like this, Travertine was no faster than Mposi. It would still need several days to cross the system from its orbit around Orison.

But what else was a captain to do but give orders that contained the promise of hope?

‘Thank you, Gandhari. And thank you for letting Eunice out of those restraints.’

‘She isn’t forgiven — not until I work out what exactly she needs to be forgiven for — but I gain nothing by keeping her tied up. She’s clearly smart enough to use us whichever way she sees fit, and for now I’d rather we at least entertain the illusion of cooperation.’

‘You can forgive her when you’re ready,’ Ru said.

Eunice looked unfazed. ‘I don’t need anyone’s forgiveness. I did what needed to be done.’

‘What she did was brutal,’ Goma said. ‘No one’s disputing that. But she’s also right that it was the only thing that would help Kanu.’

‘And remind me how it helped Kanu, exactly?’ Ru said. ‘Because from where I’m sitting, they’re in just as much trouble as they ever were.’

‘He had the choice,’ Goma said. ‘That’s all that mattered. That the choice was his, finally, and he made the only one he could live with.’

‘She got to you,’ Ru said, shaking her head in disgust. ‘When you took that bath, in the well, she spread a little of her poison into you. Didn’t you, Eunice?’

‘Please,’ Grave said, interceding with raised hands. ‘Everybody — what is done is done. We can either carry our grievances forward and let them weigh us down, or allow them to blow away like dandelion seeds.’

‘Why should we listen to a word you have to say?’ Ru asked, without a flicker of anger or accusation. ‘You’re a believer, drowning in your own superstition. You’re the enemy of all that’s rational.’

‘I was also wronged. Each of you, in your way, was ready to see the worst in me. But I blame none of you for that, or for the differences of opinion you now share. The truth is that Eunice has a perspective none of us presently understands. She has been here before and she truly grasps the consequences. Until we attain her perspective, we cannot judge her. Nor can we blame ourselves if our sympathies do not always align. Ru — you have the right to feel aggrieved. You were also wronged, and in a terrible way. But Eunice acted on the facts available to her, and from her standpoint it was a perfectly rational decision. Something was hurting her friends, something in your blood. Ask yourself how quick you would have been to look beyond the obvious explanation — that you were a willing agent in the killing of the Risen?’ But Grave did not give her the luxury of dwelling on an answer. ‘Goma is right, and it has nothing to do with Eunice. She’s just seeing things clearly, as we all should. Kanu has done the only human thing possible, as any of us might have under the same circumstances. And if it took the Zanzibar translation to bring us to this moment, this chance of a final reconciliation between humans and the Risen, I think it will have been for the best.’

‘You people love your sacrifices,’ Ru said.

‘And you people love your certainties. None of us are enemies, Ru — at least, none of us needs to be.’ And he nodded at the blue transected disk of Poseidon, swelling larger in their sky by the minute. ‘Not in the face of that.’