by Alex Lamb
‘No,’ said Will tersely. ‘It’s been an uneventful week. I can send you a summary, if you like.’
‘Please do,’ said Yunus. ‘I’m glad it went smoothly. There is one topic I want to broach with you. It’s not mission critical, but it may become so.’ Yunus began to look uncomfortable.
This, Will thought, would be the real reason for the call. ‘I’m all ears,’ he said.
‘I’ve received multiple reports about our captain,’ said Yunus. ‘He doesn’t appear to be integrating well with the rest of the team.’
‘I see.’
‘Citra and I started from a sympathetic position,’ said Yunus. ‘Mark is both an Earther and a roboteer, a combination that cannot have been an easy one to live with.’
‘That’s true,’ said Will.
‘So after I started receiving complaints—’
‘You received formal complaints?’ Frustration started to build in the back of Will’s head like storm clouds on a muggy day.
Yunus shook his head. ‘Not formal ones, exactly. No one has been so blunt. Just comments.’
‘Okay. You received comments. And then?’
‘Well, we reached out to Mark to try to amend matters. To extend the hand of friendship, as it were. Citra invited him to join a prayer group that I wanted to start. As a fellow Earther it felt like the least I could do. And the response she received …’
‘Yes?’ said Will.
‘Frankly, it was rude.’
‘He declined, I take it.’
‘He did more than that,’ said Yunus. ‘He suggested it was an inappropriate activity for the crew of a diplomatic starship.’
‘A position I agree with,’ said Will sharply.
Yunus’s cheeks coloured.
‘But we’re discussing Mark Ruiz,’ said Will. ‘You have additional concerns. Please go on.’
‘I don’t even know where to start,’ said Yunus. ‘When not running the ship out of that little cupboard of his, he’s sitting in the lounge in the same chair, not talking to anyone. I’ve held scientific talks every day and he hasn’t attended a single one. I don’t know how he can expect to be ready when we reach Tiwanaku.’
‘Did you record the talks?’
‘Of course.’
‘And they were held in the diplomatic zone, I take it?’ Will ventured.
‘I don’t see how that matters.’
‘My question is, how do you know that Mark wasn’t replaying the talks when he was sitting in the lounge? Your captain is a roboteer, remember?’
‘There is more to the talks than their informational content,’ said Yunus. ‘There is also the social component, in which he is making no attempt to participate.’
‘A valid concern,’ said Will. ‘I’m sorry he isn’t behaving as you expected. Can I ask you, though – is there a single thing actually wrong with the way the ship is being run? Something that might require my disciplinary involvement? Your gravity, for instance? Your schedule? Food? Air? SAP support?’
‘No,’ said Yunus. ‘But that’s not the point. My point is simply that the captain would do a better job if he had a closer bond with a member of the diplomatic team and some tighter supervision.’
‘You’re volunteering, I take it?’
‘Absolutely, I’m volunteering. And frankly, I consider it necessary. If you were to encourage him to approach me—’
Will’s patience began to evaporate. ‘Why me? Sam is the senior Fleet officer on the Gulliver.’
‘Mark was your pick for this mission, was he not?’ Yunus stared at Will openly, watching for a response.
‘Where did you hear that?’
‘It is common knowledge on the Gulliver,’ said Yunus. ‘I believe Subcaptain Corrigan was the first to mention it.’
‘Was he indeed?’
‘Did you imagine that such a significant piece of manoeuvring would go unnoticed, Captain? No one is surprised that you attempted to put your man at the helm of this ship. Politics is politics. I’m simply asking that you assist in guiding him. At least if you don’t want it to become entirely obvious that his posting was contrived.’
‘Firstly, his posting was based on my assessment of his talent,’ said Will. ‘And secondly, I can assure you that my intervention would be entirely counterproductive.’
Yunus smiled. ‘I find that hard to believe.’
‘However you may imagine my relationship with Mark Ruiz works, I can assure you that it is not founded on mutual respect.’
Yunus looked confused. ‘Nevertheless, you must have some influence over him, and it is imperative that this mission be correctly managed. In any case, I would like you to ask him to work with me.’
‘No,’ said Will.
Yunus scowled. ‘I’m sorry?’
‘I’m not doing it. It’s not my job, and Mark is not, as you so colourfully imagine, privately taking cues from me. We are captains of independent ships. If you want to win him over, do it yourself. Use your charm.’
‘Fine,’ said Yunus sharply. ‘Let us pursue a different tack. Perhaps if you can explain to me why you wanted Mark on board in the first place, I will know better how to find common ground with him.’
‘I chose him because he’s a good pilot,’ Will snapped.
‘Certainly his flight stats are impressive. But that’s not really why he’s here, is it?’
Will glared at Yunus and contemplated saying something harsh, but managed to keep his mouth shut.
‘It’s because of the Photurians, isn’t it?’ said Yunus triumphantly. ‘Admit it. You know there are real aliens present who have nothing to do with the Transcended and you’re scared that your entire narrative will fall apart.’
Now it was Will’s turn to feel confused. But the eager I-have-you-now expression on Yunus’s face rapidly turned his astonishment into mirth. Up until that moment, he’d harboured a small fear that Pari might be right. Maybe Yunus was lining up some kind of threat to Mark’s life. In that second, though, he’d seen Yunus for what he was – a fool. He stifled a burst of laughter.
‘I’m sorry, Professor Chesterford,’ he said, ‘but I think we’ve pursued this line of discussion as far as I’m interested in going.’
‘Are you refusing to say more?’ said Yunus.
‘Yes. That’s exactly what I’m doing.’
Yunus glowered. ‘We appear to be having a little misunderstanding of authority here,’ he said. ‘Do I need to remind you that I head this mission? I appreciate that you may have some bitterness over the fact that responsibility for the Tiwanaku fleet was handed to me, but I would hope that you are professional enough to overcome that and grant me the respect I’m due.
‘I wish to be compassionate about your position, Captain Monet. For a man such as yourself, it can’t have been easy to experience as much failure as you have. But the fact is that you did, and authority now resides in fresh hands. If possible, I would like us to have a clear and civilised understanding of our relationship, without animosity. Is that clear?’
Yunus stared at him, his eyes bulging slightly, his nostrils wide.
It occurred to Will how easy it would be to reach through the Gulliver’s security, co-opt the nearest robot and crush Yunus’s scrawny neck. As usual, exercising his power would do little good and a lot of damage. Yunus’s opinion would be moot within a matter of days, in any case.
Will let out a long breath. ‘I hear what you’re saying,’ he said.
‘Good,’ said Yunus. ‘You have convinced me, at least, that your assistance would be counterproductive. I will attempt to further matters on my own.’
‘That sounds like a great idea,’ said Will. ‘I wish you luck. Do you have any other concerns?’
‘None, thank you.’
‘Terrific,’ said Will. ‘In that case, I wish you all the best with your refue
lling.’
He dropped the connection, jumped to the home node of his sensorium and paced back and forth in the Galatean trench apartment he still used as his primary metaphor. He wouldn’t have to suffer fools much longer, thank Gal. He’d break the Tiwanaku plot wide open, find his miracle and bring an end to this whole lamentable period of history. Anyone who stood in his way was likely to get their head split open. Maybe he’d even put some old ghosts to rest at the same time.
A new request icon appeared in the simulated air before him. It was Nelson. Will threw open a channel and Nelson’s image appeared.
‘What?’ said Will.
‘As soon as your ship-link closed, I thought it best to seek you out,’ said Nelson. ‘I heard it all via the public store and thought it likely you’d be upset.’
‘That obvious, huh?’
‘Indeed,’ said Nelson, inclining his head. ‘Your relationship with Yunus Chesterford is not so much predictable as baldly deterministic, I’m afraid.’
Will resumed his pacing. ‘Why do I do it?’ he asked. ‘Why am I so fucking nice? Why do I let these people talk to me that way? Why do I let politics and bullshit affect what I do? Look what a fucking mess of IPSO it’s made, and yet I still do it.’
‘You know why,’ said Nelson calmly. ‘Both in the large and in the small. In the large, you are trying to honour the promises you made at the end of the war – not to control humanity, but to guide it. That path is always the harder one, but it is by far the most laudable. And in the small, you made sacrifices for Mark. You knew he and Yunus would not see eye to eye. You expected it and knew it would annoy you. And here you are.’
‘But still, it sucks,’ said Will. ‘Yunus called me a failure. Would he rather I start asserting myself? Because I could do that. If that’s what mankind really wants, maybe I should start giving it to them. Smashing some shit up and seeing how they like it.’
Nelson sighed. ‘Will,’ he said, ‘we’ve gone over this. Let’s take a look at these so-called failures that make you so anxious. You couldn’t speak to the Transcended after the war because they refused to talk. Not your fault. You couldn’t have children because of the mess they made of your DNA. Not your fault. You lost Rachel because her ship deliberately probed a wall of curvon-depleted space which turns out to be thousands of light-years wide. Once again, not your fault. And you failed to transform the politics of the entire human race through the force of your personality. Hardly surprising. You set out to change everything, Will, and it turns out that fixing humanity is not as easy as blowing a hole in the side of a planet. And now you’re trying to claw back the one thing that stops you from feeling totally alone – your relationship with Mark – and it turns out that’s not so easy, either.
‘Here’s the thing, Will. You can’t force the universe to give you what you want. You must have figured that out by now. Does it help you to alienate Yunus just because he’s ridiculous? I suggest not. In all likelihood, it makes Mark’s job harder. You push yourself and others too hard, my friend. A superman you may be, but just because you were given extraordinary gifts does not mean that suddenly solving everyone else’s problems is your exclusive responsibility.’
Will stared at the walls. Part of him wanted to shout back. They didn’t stuff you full of nanomachines, he thought. They didn’t make it your job to save your species from extinction. Do you think I’ll ever get away from that? He didn’t speak, though, because listening to Nelson made it clear to Will just how irrational he was being.
‘You’re right. Thank you, Nelson,’ he said quickly, feeling none the better for the advice. ‘I’m not sure what I’d do without you here.’
‘Blow up more planets, I expect,’ said Nelson. ‘In any case, it’s my pleasure. I’ll put together a gently worded message for Mark and pass it on to him.’
Will nodded. ‘Thank you. Again. I appreciate it.’
‘Why don’t you drop out to the rec room?’ said Nelson. ‘Devi has put some plots together about the Tiwanaku data, along with a few rather playful speculations. I think they’ll be fun. Want to join us?’
‘Not right now,’ said Will.
Nelson shrugged. ‘As you wish. I suggest you find some way to relax, though. You need it.’ He winked out.
Will sat down on his home node’s grassy floor, hugged his knees and wondered how he’d come to feel so alone. Nelson’s words had failed to touch him. He considered restarting the memory but found he lacked the desire. He’d only feel dirty wallowing in past sins.
It took him a moment to realise there was another message request icon in his queue. This one had come in very quietly without any alert markers on it, via a directed tight-beam. He hadn’t seen any sign of the Chiyome’s arrival but it could only be Ann. With a flutter of surprise, Will routed the connection through a private buffer that would bypass the ship’s public data store and flicked the channel open. He’d half-expected her to abandon the pact as soon as they were en route.
Ann’s hard gaze appeared in the video feed. ‘Captain Monet,’ she said. ‘I’m checking in as per our agreement. How are you doing?’
‘Fine,’ he said, rubbing his head. ‘Okay. All on course.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘You don’t look fine. You look unhappy. Do you want to explain?’
Will hesitated.
‘This is what we agreed,’ she said. ‘You give me an effective read on your mental state, I watch out for your interests in the target system. Do you still intend to honour that agreement?’
So Will explained. Short of actually admitting a specific connection to Mark, he recounted everything he’d discussed with Yunus, with growing relief. Ann listened impassively, nodding from time to time. At the end, he found himself babbling through his anger, trying to explain to her the constant strain of having been handed so many weapons that he could never in good conscience use. The sort of things he’d wanted to say to Rachel. That he should have said, but never did. When he realised he was running off at the mouth, he stopped.
‘That’s it,’ he said, waving a virtual hand. ‘It’s no big deal, really. Just everyday frustration. Nothing more.’
‘You know what I think?’ she said. ‘I think you should cut yourself some slack. You’ll be busy enough when we get to the target so focus on that instead. Ignore Yunus. He’s irrelevant.’
Will blinked at her. There it was – the Gordian knot of his emotions, cut. This was what Rachel used to do for him. Before that stupid fight. Before she’d left.
He deflated, his anger draining away.
‘Yes,’ he said quietly. ‘Thank you.’
‘My pleasure,’ said Ann. ‘Thanks for the update. For what it’s worth, your everyday frustrations constitute the kind of pressure that would crack a normal person wide open. You’re doing remarkably well, considering. Feel proud of that. Ludik out.’
It took him a moment to realise she’d shut the channel already. She, and the Chiyome, had vanished again. Will stared through his sensors at the featureless night around him and laughed. He couldn’t see her anywhere. It shouldn’t have been comforting, but it was. For no good reason at all, he felt poise rushing back into him like water.
5.4: MARK
Mark sat in his favourite chair in the lounge and replayed memories from the ship’s science talks while he waited for the others. In his mind’s eye, he watched Venetia expound on her theories while the image of a beaked quadrupedal monstrosity with chameleon eyes and eerily human hands revolved slowly on one of the screens.
‘… but besides the Transcended, the only race we know of that reached star-faring status was the Fecund,’ she was saying. ‘So what does studying these creatures tell us about what might be waiting for us at Tiwanaku? Well, for starters, their social organisation was very different from ours. Fecund society revolved around the extensive use of disposable children. A single pair of clan-parents would produce tens of tho
usands of spawn over the course of their lives, most of which became non-reproducing workers, often surgically modified to fit specific tasks. While not strictly eusocial, there is a lot that is insect-like about Fecund society, including the way that knowledge was socially shared and integrated. Most significantly for us, it’s clear that the Fecund valued life very differently from the way humans do, in fact …’
Mark checked the time. He needed to take over from Ash at the helm in less than an hour. His passengers were late, but he wasn’t surprised. He’d received a warning from Nelson days ago. Apparently he’d been doing everything badly, including sitting in the lounge the wrong way. Well, fuck that. Where else was he supposed to sit while he went over the mission science? Or perhaps he was supposed to randomly use chairs further from the wireless node just to mix it up for the benefit of others.
Nelson had pointed out that he’d missed all the talks. Not missed, Mark wanted to say: avoided. Still, Yunus and his little gang appeared to imagine it mattered. It was ridiculous. How could he possibly avoid learning about them all? He hadn’t been able to escape them for a month now and their quirks had become grindingly apparent.
Yunus and Citra had the objectionable habit of praying up the lounge, as if it was their solemn duty to advertise on behalf of the Reconsiderist Lite-Church. Zoe, in contrast, spent most of her time frowning into her contacts and tapping furiously at her touchboard, whether people were praying next to her or not. That was, of course, when Ash wasn’t chatting her up.
When Sam wasn’t blocking access to the ship’s exercise space, he was usually to be found sitting cross-legged in the lounge, ostentatiously reading from an ancient physical copy of Sun Tzu’s The Art of War. Ash hid in his room when he wasn’t trying to schmooze people and Venetia just watched everyone when they thought she wasn’t looking. For some of the supposedly most brilliant minds in human space, they looked like a fairly lame bunch to Mark. Nevertheless, he’d reluctantly convened a meeting. It was a good time for it. Tomorrow they were scheduled to rendezvous with the watchers at the edge of the Tiwanaku System.
