Resolution (87 page)

‘My brothers and sisters, we pledge to humanity unwavering service and total dedication. And you know what?
We‘re
the ones who get the best side of the bargain.

‘We’re the ones who reach the stars.’

For a moment there was silence.

Then a roar filled the hangar, echoed back from those stark walls again and again in affirmation:

‘Admiral.
Admiral. ADMIRAL.’

Three separate audio pickups remained intact inside the hangar. Later, UNSA management and analysts would replay Kian’s speech over and over, listening for strange tones or internal contradictions, finding none.

After that day, every young Pilot in training would redouble his or her efforts. When natural-born Pilots began to take their own ships into mu-space, they would be fearless and reliable, committed to UNSA and performing every single operation with determination.

Only one thing would worry the most astute analysts: that they heard Kian’s words, but could see nothing of his gestures and body language, or the odd hints of golden light that holo images occasionally captured in Pilots’ eyes.

But those worries were tentative, and few people dared record them in official reports. Over time, vague suspicions would fade and be forgotten.

Yet one more thing happened that day which Deirdre would
never
forget. Before she and Paula could leave the observation room, the steel door clanged open and a bristle-haired man wearing a braid-draped uniform strode in.

‘What the bloody hell’ - he stabbed a finger in Deirdre’s direction - ‘is
she
doing here?’

‘I signed her in, General.’

The general scowled at Paula.

‘That’s
how
she entered, not what she’s doing.’

‘She’s a civilian observer, who knows the surveillance subject and might have shed some light on what was going on. That is’ - Paula waved towards the blank spaces where the holo images should have been -
‘if
your people hadn’t bollixed up their jobs.’

The lines on the general’s face deepened.

‘I’ll look into that, mark my words. But as for your attitude—’

Paula was already tugging the ID ring from her finger.

‘You have my resignation, sir, and this is not spur-of-the-moment. I’ve thought about it.’

‘Not acceptable.’

‘And if you allow my friend and me to leave quietly, then we won’t need to raise a fuss about what happened here today. Or rather’ - with a malicious smile - ‘what
failed
to happen. Do we have a deal?’

The general clenched his fists and for a moment Deirdre thought he was going to lash out. But his voice when he spoke was calm.

‘Get out. Get out of my friggin’ sight.’

Ten minutes later, they were outside, watching the young Pilots dispersing to the shuttles which would take them to their various homes.

‘Look at him.’ Paula nodded towards Kian, who was walking among his young kindred. ‘I’d swear he has an aura about him.’

Her hand touched Deirdre’s, as if by accident.

‘It was only in medieval paintings,’ Deirdre said, ‘that artists started showing halos as disks around saintly heads. Before that, they were thought to surround the body with a faint glow.’

‘Right.’ Paula shivered. Then she rubbed her face with both hands, and stared up into the cloudy sky. ‘At least it’s stopped raining.’

‘You’re not really worried about the weather.’

‘What? Just because’ - with a shaky laugh - ‘I’ve destroyed my career, in the only environment I’ve ever known. Why should I be worried?’

‘I know what you did.’ Deirdre touched her shoulder. ‘And I admire you for it.’

‘Really?’ Paula looked into her eyes. ‘I’m jobless. Christ, I’m homeless. I’ve been living in barracks.’

‘You mean, you can’t find a bed for the night?’

‘Um...’

‘Is this happening too fast for you?’

‘No. Yes. I think so. Go slowly, would you. I’m feeling fragile.’

‘Don’t worry, dear. I
will
be gentle.’

<>

~ * ~

52

NULAPEIRON AD 3426

Tom stumbled along, led by Ankestion and Likardion, scarcely processing their route through blue-shadowed, square-edged tunnels and darkened halls, or the way that three shadow-figures - more clone-brothers - joined them one by one as they proceeded in the direction of the rendezvous.

We‘re lost.

Elva was on the terraformer sphere, on Axolon Array with Jissie and the senior commanders. He should be with her—

They came to a halt, Ankestion dragging Tom down into a crouched position. Tom was about to whisper a question, then stopped: not so much from stealth as from the realization that he no longer cared.

Elva, my love. I’m sorry.

Everything was formed of blue-grey stone. Before Tom and five clone-warriors, a straight narrow footbridge of that same stone led to a dark cross-corridor beyond. The bridge spanned a kilometre-long hall, close to the flat ceiling.

There were sounds of movement from below, the sense of breathing, yet no voices spoke. Mixed aromas of food arose: fleischbloc and a fruity tang, overlaid by something else that was sour and unpalatable. Ankestion looked grim.

Absorbed components, feeding in the hall.

Nothing else could account for the presence of hundreds, maybe thousands of human beings out of sight in the hall below, carrying out their actions without speaking. But even as Tom came to this conclusion, a single educated voice said: ‘This is outrageous! My family are innocent.’

Ignoring a tug at his tunic, Tom crept forward and slowly looked over the footbridge’s parapet, down into the hall. He saw row upon row of long tables, at which five hundred or more uniformed soldiers sat spooning some viscous liquid broth out of deep bowls. Off to one side was a vast food processor block, bigger than anything Tom had seen as a kitchen servitor. Attendants stood ready to dish out more food.

But it was the silver-haired man with the elegant goatee who caught Tom’s attention, and the woman with him. She was too scared to speak, but clutched the back of a small lev-chair inside which a young boy was sitting. The boy looked pale and infirm, his breath coming fast and shallow in panic; he was obviously in the chair for medical reasons, unable to stand.

‘Please ...’ The elegant man pleaded with one of the Absorbed components standing in front of him, as if the component were still a person, with a human being’s sensibilities. ‘If you could allow my wife and son to go past, I would be happy to stay as guarantor of their ...’

His voice trailed off.

Tom’s skin tightened.

No...

There was nothing he could do.

For Fate’s sake, get out of there.

But the air was already blackening, roiling, and then the man’s eyes rolled up in his head. His wife’s stare whitened as her eyes also rolled. In the lev-chair, the young boy opened his mouth as if to yell at his parents, but his vocal cords were frozen.