Poseidon's Wake

by Alastair Reynolds

‘Can Goma handle all that on her own?’ Kanu asked.

  ‘The load will be on her suit, not on Goma,’ Eunice said. ‘In the meantime you get to spend some quality time with Ru, Hector and me.’

  ‘Aren’t you worried I’ll kill the Tantor?’ Ru asked.

  ‘No,’ Eunice said sharply, ‘because that would make me an idiot. You were the weapon, but you were not culpable.’ Her tone softened. ‘And I overreacted, for which I’m sorry. How many times do I have to say that?’

  ‘Once is a start,’ Ru said.

  They were ready for the ascent. Goma tugged down on the power winch and coupled it to the front of her suit, making sure the latch was secure. She tested her own weight on the line – if the grapple failed now, there was no hope of it holding once she started hauling Nissa up.

  ‘Will you manage down here?’

  ‘We’ll start a campfire sing-song,’ Eunice said. ‘The time’ll fly past. And you need to be on your way. Once you’re moving, I’ll give Captain Vasin a heads-up as to what’s happening. If she can drop Mposi back down between you and the grapple – that will save a lot of time.’

  ‘Ru – I’ll see you in a few hours. Kanu . . . Hector – the same. Eunice – take good care of them all.’

  ‘I shall.’

  ‘And while you’re at it, take care of yourself. I still haven’t got to the bottom of what you are.’

  ‘There’s no mystery, Goma – just me, alive, as simple as that.’

  ‘Nothing about you is simple.’

  She applied increasing power to the winch, drawing herself up from the floor of the groove before taking Nissa’s weight. The winch was powerful and showed no hesitation as the burden increased. Perhaps they were going to make it after all.

  She paused for one moment to make eye contact with Eunice, Kanu and Ru, giving them each a nod. She would have envied them their time with Hector, but the evidence suggested Hector was long past the point of conversation. They would do well to keep him alive as the wheel carried them up to space.

  Goma managed an average ascent rate of ten kilometres an hour, running and leaping, doing her best to kick out as she passed the grooves, letting her payload pendulum beneath her. She could never have kept it up without the suit’s amplification-assist, but even with it the concentration was taxing. She was all too aware of the damage she could do to herself through a single lapse of attention – never mind her cocooned, helpless passenger.

  An hour of that, then another.

  The one blessing was that in the time since their departure from Mposi, ten hours had passed. The wheel had continued to turn – thereby raising the grapple higher and allowing Mposi to come back in about eight kilometres beneath their initial starting position. Goma did not have to ascend the same distance they had descended, and Vasin was going to risk holding station until she arrived with Nissa.

  The grapple held, and so did the tether. She was beginning to stumble, though, mistiming her kicks, when a bright light turned her shadow hard-edged. She looked up, squinting against the exhaust of the lander as it settled back onto the wheel. Five kilometres above her – Vasin cutting it fine this time. But Goma sensed she was nearly home, and that gave her a renewed burst of energy and focus.

  Suited figures were waiting for her when she reached the underside of the lander. Andisa and Grave helped her up the last few metres. Then they disconnected the line and moved the survival bag into the lock.

  Goma waited on the tilted ledge. She felt cored out, drained of something vital. But she would not allow herself to linger before resuming the journey back down to Ru. They argued with her about it, but her mind was set.

  She was the last into the body of the ship, and they had her out of the spacesuit almost before she could blink. Andisa gave her a cursory but efficient examination – satisfying herself that Goma was exhausted but had otherwise suffered no ill-effects.

  Goma gulped down fluids, putting back some of the litres she had sweated out on the wheel. ‘Give me ten minutes to get my head together. Then I’m going back down.’

  ‘No,’ Andisa said. ‘We can’t stay here, and Vasin won’t let you take that risk. They’ll just have to wait until the wheel brings them around.’

  ‘She told you to tell me that?’

  ‘You’re a wreck, Goma Akinya. You’ve been up and down the wheel without a break and we almost lost all of you when that grapple gave way. Gandhari won’t risk that happening again.’

  Goma reached for the anger and frustration she knew she ought to be feeling, but found only exhaustion and the sense that this was an argument she could never win.

  ‘Did you tell her about Ru?’

  ‘Yes, and I’ve been talking to Ru since you left her. She’s lucid and her life signs look stable. If there’d been bleeding or a skull fracture, I would know by now.’

  ‘I hope you’re right about that.’

  ‘It’s my job to be right. Believe me, if there was a way to spirit all of them back up here right now, I’d jump on it. But the point of that dangerous rescue operation was to deliver the supplies Kanu and the others needed, and you succeeded. More than that – you got Nissa back up here.’

  Goma tried to see beyond her own concerns, if only for a moment.

  ‘How is she?’

  ‘You did your best, and I’ll do mine. Now think about yourself for a few minutes. You did a magnificent thing, Goma – you saved a human life.’

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  Mposi had to take off again to conserve the fuel it needed for the steering motor. They pulled away from the wheel, made a few circuits to gather more information, then climbed back into low orbit.

  ‘While all that was going on,’ Vasin said, ‘we neglected to keep you informed of wider developments.’

  It was just the captain and Goma, sitting next to one of the observation windows, interior lights dimmed, the ship taking care of itself for a while. Everyone was worn out, not just those directly involved in the rescue.

  ‘You’re going to tell me that the moons have returned to their usual orbits and we’re going to have the face the Terror on our way out?’

  ‘Thankfully, no – the moons are still holding their new alignment – all in the same orbit, strung out like pearls on a necklace. Problem is, it’s drawn the Watchkeepers. They must think this constitutes an open invitation.’

  ‘A problem for us, or for them?’

  ‘On the evidence, very much for them. We’re on the nightside now, which makes it easier – let me turn down the lights a little more.’

  Vasin blacked out the cabin completely, leaving the moons and the stars as their only sources of illumination. The moons were too small to matter and the stars too far away. Goma floated in darkness until her eyes began to pick up something else.

  Tiny migraine flashes, somewhere out there – almost too faint to detect, like ghost signals on her optic nerve. Pinks and greens and oranges, starbursts and starfish, tracing the same ecliptic plane as the moons.

  ‘They’re dying,’ Vasin said. ‘They’ve been trying to cross that line of moons for hours, ever since they fell into that new configuration, and they’re being sliced and diced. One after the other, they keep coming. It’s as if they’re too huge, too slow, to realise their mistake – like a pod of whales coming ashore, beaching themselves.’

  ‘You can see it happening?’

  ‘On long-range, yes. Whatever’s killing them, it’s hard to see where it originates. The moons, maybe – or even something out there we haven’t detected yet. For all we know, the moons are just the sensory elements of a defence system we can’t even see.’

  Goma thought about that for a moment. ‘Now you’re scaring me.’

  ‘If you’re not scared, you don’t understand the situation. My – did I just sound like Eunice for a moment?’

  ‘She rubs off.’

>   ‘I hope you’ll understand why I couldn’t authorise another expedition down the wheel. I want them all back here – but I won’t put more lives at risk to make it happen. Sometimes being a captain is about making the unpopular decisions – the ones you know you’ll stand a good chance of being hated for.’

  ‘You’ve done well, Gandhari. You’ve brought us this far, and you’ve shared a ship with Eunice. It can’t have been easy, working in her shadow.’

  ‘The airlock was never far away.’

  ‘For her, or for you?’

  ‘Either option was on the table. But you know, I still can’t decide whether we’ve really met her or not. She walks and talks like the real thing, and Nhamedjo – although it pains me to mention his name – told us she was real, all the way through. I’m sure Mona would agree, if she ran the same tests – the treacherous fucker had no reason to lie about that.’

  Goma, despite her fatigue, despite her apprehension, laughed. ‘That’s not very captainly language, Gandhari.’

  ‘Do forgive me – I’ve had a taxing few days.’

  ‘You’re forgiven. But I agree – I still don’t know what to make of her. Where have her memories come from? They’re incomplete, stitched together from biographical fragments – they’re not actual memories at all. Then again, the construct version of Eunice lived several lifetimes on Zanzibar. Those memories are authentic – they’re just not part of the original Eunice’s life. Then she met the Watchkeepers, and they dismantled her and put her back together again using biological material. And she’s lived another lifetime or two in this form. What does that make her? More or less than the original Eunice? Her equal in every way? An extension of the same personality? If we take her back with us, what rights would she have?’

  ‘There’s no precendent for her,’ Vasin said. ‘She’s as strange as anything out there. Wonderful, intimidating – scary. And as sly as a fox. That trick she pulled on us with the mirrors – I’m still trying to work that one out. Did she commit the worst crime imaginable, or did she save lives and start another adventure?’

  ‘Kanu still went to Poseidon.’

  ‘But of his own volition, to spare the Risen. She can’t be blamed for his selflessness.’

  ‘I wonder if we’ll ever know what she did to Zanzibar.’

  ‘We won’t rest until we do. Collectively, I mean – as a society. Also, she’s demonstrated something rather significant – that whatever we don’t understand about the M-builders, and that’s rather a lot, we do have the ability to operate their technology.’

  ‘We’re just monkeys hitting piano keys.’

  ‘And maybe we’ll hit a tune now and then. It might take time. But I’m a navigator, Goma. People like me won’t rest until we’ve found a way to use the Mandalas. To go from our fastest ships to being able to travel as close to the speed of light as we can imagine?’

  ‘Aren’t you disappointed not to have something faster?’

  ‘I’ll take what I can get. I want to know how far that network extends – to ride the Mandalas so deep into the galaxy that our sun’s just another nameless dot in the Milky Way.’

  ‘You might skip between those stars quicker than you can blink, but it’ll still be years and years of travel for the people left at home.’

  ‘There aren’t any,’ Vasin said. ‘Not for me, at least.’

  ‘I still want to go home.’

  ‘You will. And here’s something else to think about. There is no Mandala in Earth’s solar system – at least not that we know of. Our best intelligence says Crucible’s is the nearest one.’

  ‘Crucible’s going to change.’

  ‘If the Mandalas allow us to use them, then yes. Your little planet – and remember, I wasn’t born there – it’s going to assume a different importance from now on. Crucible will be the gateway – the port of entry.’

  ‘Into what?’

  ‘We’ll find out. When we make it work.’

  They turned their attention back to the distant lights of dying Watchkeepers. It was beautiful and sublime. Goma took no joy in the deaths of the alien machines, rather a sadness that they could not see their own folly.

  Eventually the attrition slowed – the lights fading away like the last desultory bursts of a fireworks display.

  ‘There are more still out there,’ Vasin said, ‘but they must have had the sense to hold back.’

  ‘I almost feel sorry for them.’

  ‘You shouldn’t. They’ve caused us enough trouble.’

  That was true, and her words should have been enough to settle Goma’s doubts. But still, the Watchkeepers had been kind to Eunice – or at least merciful – and they had given her a gift beyond measure. Perhaps it had been nothing to them, a kindly gesture almost too small for their accounting – like a person tipping an upended insect back onto its legs, the whim of a moment. But they had made her human, put life into her lungs, given her dreams and sorrows, all the stuff of mortality. They had given Eunice back to herself.

  Goma could forgive them a lot for that.

  She went to see Nissa, so that she would have something to report to Kanu. Nissa was still unconscious, still in Dr Andisa’s care. At least the best was now being done for her, although Andisa would not be pushed on her chances. Her suit had run out of power sooner that it ran out of air, so the cold of the high atmosphere had been her first problem. Despite layers of insulation, she had still suffered frostbite to her face and extremities, visible now where Andisa had applied a blue medical salve, especially around the temples and cheekbones. Oxygen starvation had come after the frostbite, and she could not have escaped neurological damage of some degree. But they had restored heat and air before the ascent, so things had certainly not worsened from that point on.

  ‘I barely know her,’ Goma said, ‘but I want her to live. It’s not just because of Kanu, of what her dying would do to him after all this. She came all this way, survived everything up until the wheel – even the Terror. It’s not right that she should die of fucking frostbite and oxygen starvation!’

  ‘We will do what we can,’ Andisa said gently.

  Of course they would, but that was no reassurance at all to Goma. ‘Kanu’s still down there. I want to give him some encouragement, some reason to think she’ll be all right.’

  ‘This unconsciousness is partly a medical choice. I have given her as heavy a dose of neural growth factors as I dare risk. They will consolidate the damaged structures, prevent further obliteration and provoke a measure of synaptic reconstruction. But it is best that she not be awake while these processes are under way.’

  ‘I don’t doubt your skill, Mona. I just wish I had something concrete to give him.’

  ‘Tell him she is alive and receiving the best care available. That is the only honest answer I can provide. The moment there is better news, you will be the first to hear it. In the meantime, Goma?’

  She wondered what was coming. ‘Yes?’

  ‘It was a fine thing, to have helped her. She would be dead without you, but you have given her hope. Now tell Kanu to worry about himself, and we will worry about Nissa.’

  ‘I shall.’

  She found some chai, splashed water in her face to keep the tiredness at bay, then resumed contact with the party on the ledge. She used the general channel, addressing them all at once. Ru might have been her wife, but her concern right now was for each and every member of the party, including Hector.

  ‘We’re holding on,’ Ru said. ‘Supplies look good. Our suits are working fine, for now. There’s really not much to do but wait. We saw you take off – please tell me you’re planning to come back for us?’

  Ru’s question might have been less than serious, but Goma was too tired to bother with anything but a straight answer. ‘Once you’re higher, we’ll break orbit and come back in again. Have you seen the firework display?’


  ‘Yes, and very pretty it was, too. Kanu says it must have been the Watchkeepers.’

  ‘He’s right,’ Goma confirmed. ‘They’ve been throwing themselves against the moons, getting sliced and diced – it’s as if they saw this as their one chance to get anywhere near the wheels. But it hasn’t worked. Looks like they’ve given up – at least, the carnage appears to be over for the time being. I don’t think that means we’ve seen the last of them – there must still be a lot more out there, waiting to see what happened. But if they expect answers from any of us, I’m not convinced they’re going to get them.’

  ‘Kanu might beg to differ,’ Ru said. ‘He’s been through the Terror just like Eunice did all those years ago. He said it’s given him a certain perspective.’

  ‘Is Kanu there?’

  ‘I am,’ he answered after a moment’s silence. ‘It’s good to hear you, Goma. Any news on Nissa?’

  Kanu sounded more alert and focused than when she first met him on the ledge. ‘Doctor Andisa’s doing everything she can,’ Goma answered, gladdened to hear his voice. ‘We need to keep her stable until we can get her aboard Travertine. We have much better medical facilities on the big ship.’

  ‘It’s good to hear you, Goma. Would it be wrong to say I’m proud of you? We’ve done some good and bad things, we Akinyas. But I think I know where you stand.’

  His words warmed her. ‘You too, uncle.’

  ‘I’m not sure which sounds less formal – uncle or Kanu. No one’s ever called me uncle before.’

  ‘They say you were a diplomat.’

  ‘Once. In another life. And a merman. I’ve been many things, in fact, and I’m not sure I’ve been terribly good at any of them.’

  ‘You’re being too hard on yourself.’

  ‘Oh, I’m not so sure. What exactly have I achieved? I betrayed my government, let down my friends, misled Nissa – all to serve the goals of machines on Mars I barely understand, let alone trust? And while Swift’s had to put up with being in my head, it’s not as if he’s really needed me for anything else. I’ve just been his vehicle, his means of reaching this place.’