‘He has a point,’ Dr Nhamedjo said placidly. ‘I have worked with small quantities of medical nanomachinery – so have the other members of my team.’
‘Could you have reprogrammed the Knowledge Room?’ Vasin asked.
His handsome features looked rueful. ‘For about five minutes, when I was just out of medical school.’
‘You do yourself a disservice,’ Vasin said, meeting his expression with a smile of her own. ‘The main point, though, is that very few of us ever need to enter the second sphere – or have the means to do so.’
‘Mine can’t have been the only forensic traces you found in that sphere,’ Grave said. ‘Or are you saying none of your technicians ever go in there?’
There was a reasonableness to his objections, but also a pragmatic acceptance that his fate was already sealed. He looked broken, his aspirations in tatters – a man going through the motions of justice, knowing he could offer no persuasive argument.
‘Did you meet Mposi?’ Vasin asked.
‘On several occasions.’
‘Why?’
‘We wished to speak. I had some concerns, and I hoped to share them with him.’
‘Were these vague concerns about a threat?’
‘I can’t help that they were vague. It was my job to find out more information – to safeguard both the expedition and the integrity of the Second Chance delegation. Had Mposi and I located a tangible threat, we would have brought our concerns to you directly. In the absence of anything concrete, neither of us wished to trouble you.’
‘I keep hearing about people not wanting to trouble me,’ Vasin said ruefully. ‘I wish they’d let me decide for myself. Being troubled is what I’m here for.’
‘You have spoken to Crucible. Presumably they have verified Mposi’s account of things?’ Grave asked.
‘Mposi was warned about a possible sabotage effort,’ Vasin said. ‘But as far as we know, you could have been the saboteur he was warned about.’ Her tone sharpened. ‘Why did you kill him?’
‘I didn’t.’
‘Ah, this missed rendezvous. What was the point of it?’
‘We’d arranged to meet and explore the second sphere together. Mposi knew how to enter secure areas. He’d already shown me how to alter my bangle to achieve the same settings, but I still needed his help to get into the drive section. When I arrived there, though, Mposi was late. Or rather, now I think he was early – that he arrived before me and someone else was already there. I saw signs of disturbance – the blood you found.’
‘You’re saying Mposi had already been attacked, perhaps even killed, by the time you arrived?’
‘I only know that he wasn’t there. I have no direct knowledge of what happened to him after that, except that you say he was murdered and his body placed in the well.’ Grave paused, then asked with a sudden and plausible innocence: ‘You asked me about my history with nanomachines. Do you honestly think I had the expertise to do that thing to Mposi?’
‘Didn’t you?’ Vasin asked. ‘The expertise is specific, but you could have easily acquired those skills on the Malabar. Why he agreed to meet you alone, I don’t know. Regardless, you knocked him out, maybe even killed him – we only have half of his body to examine – and dragged him to the cargo elevator. You took him to the Knowledge Room, reprogrammed the nanomachines . . . and hoped that would buy you enough time to cover your tracks.’
‘I did all that?’ Grave looked impressed with himself. ‘You overestimate my ability to improvise, Captain.’
‘If we were down to our last gram of fuel, our final rations,’ Vasin said, ‘I might have a case for execution – or at least for throwing you out of an airlock. As it happens, neither fuel nor rations are a concern. Besides, Mposi would not have approved. Given that – and the uncertain legal standing of this trial – I only have one option. You’ve offered a defence, but it cannot be corroborated. On the other hand, you had the opportunity, the technical means and – as a conservative Second Chancer – a plausible motive.’
‘Case closed, then.’
‘No – case still open, but looking increasingly doubtful for you. You may or may not be guilty – I don’t have the evidence to decide – but I can’t run the risk of you doing further harm. You will be committed to skipover, Grave. Put on ice for the entire duration of the expedition.’
Dr Nhamedjo spoke up sharply. ‘I won’t be party to that.’
Vasin turned to him. ‘I’m sorry, Doctor?’
‘Regardless of what we might think of Grave, this doesn’t begin to satisfy his rights as a member of this expedition. And I won’t go along with some execution-by-proxy—’
Vasin spoke quietly, but she had no need to raise her voice to sound authoritative. ‘It’s not an execution, Doctor – it’s clemency. I’m doing him a kindness by not presuming his guilt. I’d prefer you to comply with this decision, but the truth is I don’t need you to. Under emergency provisions, any member of this crew is entitled to assist another into skipover.’
‘Only when the medical staff are indisposed!’
‘Or unable to discharge their duties, which at this point amounts to much the same thing. I’m sorry to state it so plainly, Saturnin – we are friends, and I’ve no desire to overrule you – but Grave will be going into skipover with or without your assistance. Would you rather stand by and watch one of us clumsily attempt to do your own work for you?’
‘Of course not,’ Nhamedjo said, with a surliness at odds with his pleasant, accommodating features.
‘Perhaps I made a mistake,’ Grave said. ‘Has it occurred to you that I achieved nothing by supposedly murdering Mposi?’
‘You acted carelessly,’ Vasin answered. ‘That isn’t my concern.’
‘It should be. I am not his murderer. Someone else is. You’ve found your demolition charges – good for you. Maybe they were part of a plot to blow up the ship, as you suspect. But if the real killer is still active, they’ll simply move on to a different weapon.’
‘Such as?’
‘I wish I knew. If I did, I’d be the first to tell you.’
Goma woke after the trial to find a transmission waiting for her from Ndege. She had been expecting such a thing, knowing that her mother had been informed of Mposi’s death through at least two channels. First there had been a personal communication from Gandhari Vasin, sharing the news and expressing her deep regret that this dreadful thing had happened to such a respected and well-liked figure. Vasin had allowed Goma to see the transmission before she sent it, and not long after that she had composed her own message to Ndege.
Vasin had done her a kindness, in that it did not fall to Goma to break the bad news. She had only to express her sadness and offer her condolences. It was bad enough that her uncle had been killed, but it was much worse for Ndege, losing her brother. Goma had only known him for the short span of her own life; Ndege and Mposi had been witness to centuries.
Both had separated knowing that a reunion was vanishingly unlikely, but neither had expected to learn of the other’s death. Mposi might have died before the expedition reached its destination, but by the time the news of his passing reached Crucible, Ndege would probably not be alive to receive it. Similarly, if Ndege were to die in the next few decades, news of it could not possibly reach the expedition for many decades to come.
Neither would have anticipated this. Travertine was still only a little more than a light-week from Crucible – its voyage barely commenced. It felt limitlessly cruel of the universe to force this development on Ndege, as if she had not suffered enough already.
And yet she accepted it with what appeared to Goma to be extreme stoic forbearance. She spoke with dignity, acknowledging her sadness, yet proud that her brother had the courage to join the expedition, and the deeper courage to act to protect it. In the end, he had let none of them down – except Goma, perhaps, who woul
d not now have his companionship and wisdom to draw on. Ndege was sorry for that, but she said there was a simple answer. What Mposi had been to Goma, Goma would now have to be to the rest of the expedition. Mposi’s qualities were in her – she just needed to find them.
‘You will not have to dig very deeply, daughter. I have confidence in you. I always have done. Now go, and choose wisely, and if it is within your capabilities, bring Mposi back to us. He came to love this hot, green world, and I think we owe it to him to bury him under a blue sky, under stars he would recognise. As for you – you already have my love, but if it were within my power I would send you twice as much of it. Be strong for me, be strong for Ru, be strong for the others, but above all else be strong for yourself. Good luck, my daughter.’
Goma’s first instinct was to reply at length, but on reflection she chose something simpler.
‘You say you should send twice your love, but you have already given me more than anyone ever deserved. Mposi isn’t here, but your good thoughts are. And in turn, I hope – I know – that you can feel mine. They wronged you, my mother, but you never hated them for it. And even when the world thought the least of you, I never wanted anyone else to be my mother. I am proud of my name, proud of what I am – proud of the place that shaped who I am, proud of the ancestors who stand behind me. I cannot replace Mposi – none of us could, except perhaps you. But I will do my best, and keep trying harder, and perhaps I will not disgrace his memory. And when this is done, I will bring Mposi home to Crucible.’
If more needed to be said, the words were not there. She did not even replay the transmission before committing it to deep space, arrowing back to her planet of birth.
She could expect a reply in under twenty days, allowing for time lag, but she did not think there would be an answer. They had said what they needed to say, absolving each other of a lifetime’s slow accumulation of unhappiness and bitterness and guilt. That was all gone now, wiped clean by a death.
When all that was left was love, words were superfluous.
The door opened at the command of her bangle. Goma stepped into the nearly darkened room, waiting a moment for her eyes to adjust to the low green lighting. The form on the bed stirred, sensing her uninvited presence. At first Grave appeared untroubled, thinking perhaps that he was receiving another inspection from the captain or the medical staff. But then he must have recognised that this was not one of his normal visitors.
‘Goma,’ he said, raising himself from the bed, speaking quietly. ‘How did you get in here? No one told me to expect you.’
Behind her the door closed automatically.
‘You made a mistake,’ Goma said.
‘Did I?’
‘You mentioned that Mposi showed you how to reprogram the bangles.’
In the green half-light she made out his frown, his sleepless eyes, wide awake yet full of exhaustion.
‘How was that a mistake, exactly?’
‘Because it told me it could be done. Once I know a thing’s possible, that’s halfway to figuring out how to make it happen. Neither you nor Mposi would have had access to security tools, so finding the reprogramming mode couldn’t have been particularly complicated.’
He gave a half-smile, equal parts amusement and anxiety. ‘And did you?’
‘No, it was too difficult. Even for Ru, and she’s ten times smarter than me. But I went to Aiyana. I knew ve’d be up to it.’
‘And was ve?’
‘Already had it figured out. But like a typical scientist, once the puzzle was unlocked, ve lost interest in it. It never occurred to Aiyana to open any doors ve wasn’t meant to.’
‘I’m surprised you mention Loring’s name. Isn’t that a little rash if what you’re doing is against all the rules of the ship? Won’t that get Loring into trouble as well?’
Goma had moved to his bedside. Grave was keeping an eye on her but making no effort to leave the bed. She wondered if he thought she might have a weapon.
‘There isn’t going to be any trouble,’ she said. ‘What do you think I’ve come to do – kill you?’
‘It crossed my mind.’
‘In a little while, Grave, you’ll be as good as dead anyway. I’d be a fool to jeopardise my own standing on the expedition, wouldn’t I?’
‘Then I’m not sure what the point of this little visit is.’
‘I think you killed my uncle.’
‘That does appear to be the consensus opinion. Well done for subscribing to it.’
‘Shut up.’ She grabbed a lock of his hair, twisted it hard from his scalp, not caring how much it hurt him. ‘Shut the fuck up, you piece of believer piss. I saw Mposi. I saw what was left of him. Whoever did that, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to them. Nothing so fucking vile that I wouldn’t consider it. And I do think you did it. But I can’t be sure. Not totally.’
She still had his hair in her hand. Grave made a guttural sort of noise, not quite a yelp, but it left her in no doubt as to the discomfort she was inflicting. Yet he made no effort to fight her, his own hands resting at his sides.
‘Here’s the thing,’ she said. ‘You’re going on ice. Three hundred years, Gandhari says. No one will speak to you until we get back home. But if there’s one thing I should know, one thing you think might make a difference to our chances, I want to know it now.’
‘For the sake of that tiny chink of doubt?’
She dug her nails into his scalp. ‘Fuck you. I think there’s about one chance in a thousand that you didn’t kill Mposi. That’s not a doubt, that’s an outlier. But I still want to know. One thing. Whatever you’ve got.’
‘Tantors,’ he said.
It was enough to slacken her hold on him. She withdrew her hand, allowed his head to slump back onto his pillow.
‘Tell me more.’
‘That’s the fear, Goma, the reason for a sabotage effort. There are some on the extreme edge of the movement who share your suspicions.’
‘My suspicions about what?’
‘That the Tantors might have survived, somewhere beyond Crucible. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Be honest – it isn’t to heed the call of a dear dead ancestor. It’s to find talking elephants.’
‘What do you know about Tantors?’
‘The same as everyone else. And one extra thing. If there was a sabotage plan, destroying Travertine would only have been a side effect of the real intention. They mean to murder your elephants, Goma.’
‘You told me you hate the sin of what they are, not the elephants themselves.’
‘That was true.’
‘And now?’
‘I think it would still be wrong to harm them.’
‘The captain found the explosives. If there are more, she’ll find them.’
‘I don’t doubt it. But explosives aren’t the only weapon, are they?’
‘What else?’
‘I have no idea. If I were allowed my liberty, I might have a chance of finding out.’
‘Gandhari shouldn’t stop at you,’ Goma said. ‘She should put all of you on ice.’
‘We’re a fifty-three-strong expedition. That would still leave forty-one other candidates.’
‘It’s not one of the rest of us. You’re the fanatics, not us.’
‘I hope for your sake that you are right. Truth is, Goma, I never wanted us to be at odds. Whatever you think of me – and you have made your feelings abundantly clear – I did not hurt your uncle. Someone else killed Mposi – someone still at liberty aboard this ship. I know this, but of course I cannot make you see it for yourself. Nonetheless, I can encourage you to keep it in mind. Do you think you will find Tantors, after all this time?’
Goma felt a flush of shame for the physical hurt she had inflicted on Grave. It was beneath her, beneath the dignity of her name, beneath the memory of Mposi. The anger had been genuine an
d justified, but she had allowed it to use her rather than the other way around.
‘I don’t know.’
‘But you hope you will.’
‘Yes.’
‘Then be wise, Goma Akinya. Be very wise, and very vigilant. Because when the snake shows itself, I won’t be around to help you.’
Grave’s entry into skipover followed shortly afterwards, conducted without ceremony and with no apparent resistance from the subject. Goma was allowed to be present in the skipover vault with a small party of witnesses and technicians, including Ru, Maslin Karayan and a select number of other Second Chancers.
Grave had already been sedated and was only minimally conscious by the time the skipover casket was closed and the transition to suspended animation initiated. After their public dispute, Vasin and Nhamedjo appeared to have come to some grudging agreement regarding Grave’s committal to skipover. Saturnin handled the medical aspects, though with a conspicuous absence of enthusiasm.
Goma watched it all with a vague foreboding, knowing that she would soon be entering one of these sleek grey caskets and trusting her fate to a medical technology that was reliable but not foolproof, and which she did not pretend to understand. The assembly watched in silence as the status readouts marked Grave’s slide into medical hibernation, the gradual arresting of all cellular processes. Finally his brain gave its final surrendering flicker of neural activity, and all was still.
‘I am sorry I could not give you more,’ Vasin said to Goma, when the witnesses were beginning to disperse. ‘Some sense of justice having been done, rather than put on hold.’
‘Mposi wouldn’t have expected anything more.’
‘Perhaps not. But I admit that I felt the need for retribution – some sense that the punishment should fit the crime.’
Goma thought back to her night-time visit to Grave’s locked room. To the best of her knowledge it had gone unwitnessed and unreported. If Grave had mentioned it to anyone, there had been no consequences.
She thought of her fingernails, gouging little crescent-shaped wounds into his scalp.
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