“Inside the atmosphere of a gas giant, right?”
She looked at me alertly. “Yes.”
“Fine, then. I’ll call you Weather. Unless you’d like to suggest something better.”
SHE NEVER DID suggest something better, even though I think she once came close to it. From that moment on, whether she liked it or not, she was always Weather. Soon, it was what the other crew were calling her, and the name that—grudgingly at first, then resignedly—she deigned to respond to.
I went to see Captain Van Ness and did my best to persuade him that Weather was not going to cause us any difficulties.
“What are you suggesting we should give her—a free pass to the rest of the ship?”
“Only that we could let her out of her prison cell.”
“She’s recuperating.”
“She’s restrained. And you’ve put an armed servitor on the door, in case she gets out of the restraints.”
“Pays to be prudent.”
“I think we can trust her now, Captain.” I hesitated, choosing my words with great care. “I know you have good reasons not to like her people, but she isn’t the same as the Conjoiners from those days.”
“That’s what she’d like us to think, certainly.”
“I’ve spoken to her, heard her story. She’s an outcast from her people, unable to return to them because of what’s happened to her.”
“Well, then,” Van Ness said, nodding as if he’d proved a point, “outcasts do funny things. You can’t ever be too careful with outcasts.”
“It’s not like that with Weather.”
“Weather,” he repeated, with a certain dry distaste. “So she’s got a name now, has she?”
“I felt it might help. The name was my suggestion, not hers.”
“Don’t start humanising them. That’s the mistake humans always make. Next thing you know, they’ve got their claws in your skull.”
I closed my eyes, forcing self-control as the conversation veered off course. I’d always had an excellent relationship with Van Ness, one that came very close to bordering on genuine friendship. But from the moment he heard about Weather, I knew she was going to come between us.
“I’m not suggesting we let her run amok,” I said. “Even if we let her out of those restraints, even if we take away the servitor, we can still keep her out of any parts of the ship where we don’t want her. In the meantime, I think she can be helpful to us. She’s already told me that Captain Voulage forced her to make improvements to the Cockatrice’s drive system. I don’t see why she can’t do the same for us, if we ask nicely.”
“Why did he have to force her, if you’re so convinced she’d do it willingly now?”
“I’m not convinced. But I can’t see why she wouldn’t help us, if we treat her like a human being.”
“That’d be our big mistake,” Van Ness said. “She never was a human being. She’s been a Spider from the moment they made her, and she’ll go to the grave like that.”
“Then you won’t consider it?”
“I consented to let you bring her aboard. That was already against every God-given instinct.” Then Van Ness rumbled, “And I’d thank you not to mention the Spider again, Inigo. You’ve my permission to visit her if you see fit, but she isn’t taking a step out of that room until we make orbitfall.”
“Very well,” I said, with a curtness that I’d never had cause to use on Captain Van Ness.
As I was leaving his cabin, he said, “You’re still a fine shipmaster, lad. That’s never been in doubt. But don’t let this thing cloud your usual good judgement. I’d hate to have to look elsewhere for someone of your abilities.”
I turned back and, despite everything that told me to hold my tongue, I still spoke. “I was wrong about you, Captain. I’ve always believed that you didn’t allow yourself to be ruled by the irrational hatreds of other Ultras. I always thought you were better than that.”
“And I’d have gladly told you I have just as many prejudices as the next man. They’re what’ve kept me alive so long.”
“I’m sure Captain Voulage felt the same way,” I said.
It was a wrong and hateful thing to say—Van Ness had nothing in common with a monster like Voulage—but I couldn’t stop myself. And I knew even as I said it that some irreversible bridge had just been crossed, and that it was more my fault than Van Ness’s.
“You have work to do, I think,” Van Ness said, his voice so low that I barely heard it. “Until you have the engines back to full thrust, I suggest you keep out of my way.”
WEPS CAME TO see me eight or nine hours later. I knew it wasn’t good news as soon as I saw her face.
“We have a problem, Inigo. The captain felt you needed to know.”
“And he couldn’t tell me himself?”
Weps cleared part of the wall and called up a display, filling it with a boxy green three-dimensional grid. “That’s us,” she said, jabbing a finger at the red dot in the middle of the display. She moved her finger halfway to the edge, scratching her long black nail against the plating. “Something else is out there. It’s stealthed to the gills, but I’m still seeing it. Whatever it is is making a slow, silent approach.”
My thoughts flicked to Weather. “Could it be Conjoiner?”
“That was my first guess. But if it was Conjoiner, I don’t think I’d be seeing anything at all.”
“So what are we dealing with?”
She tapped the nail against the blue icon representing the new ship. “Another raider. Could be an ally of Voulage—we know he had friends—or could be some other ship that was hoping to pick over our carcass once Voulage was done with us, or maybe even steal us from him before he had his chance.”
“Hyena tactics.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Range?”
“Less than two light-hours. Even if they don’t increase their rate of closure, they’ll be on us within eight days.”
“Unless we move.”
Weps nodded sagely. “That would help. You’re on schedule to complete repairs within six days, aren’t you?”
“On schedule, yes, but that doesn’t mean things can be moved any faster. We start cutting corners now, we’ll break like a twig when we put a real load on the ship.”
“We wouldn’t want that.”
“No, we wouldn’t.”
“The captain just thought you should be aware of the situation, Inigo. It’s not to put you under pressure, or anything.”
“Of course not.”
“It’s just that…we really don’t want to be hanging around here a second longer than necessary.”
I REMOVED WEATHER’S restraints and showed her how to help herself to food and water from the room’s dispenser. She stretched and purred, articulating and extending her limbs in the manner of a dancer rehearsing some difficult routine in extreme slow motion. She’d been “reading” when I arrived, which for Weather seemed to involve staring into the middle distance while her eyes flicked to and fro at manic speed, as if following the movements of an invisible wasp.
“I can’t let you out of the room just yet,” I said, sitting on the fold-down stool next to the bed, upon which Weather now sat cross-legged. “I just hope this makes things a little more tolerable.”
“So your captain’s finally realised I’m not about to suck out his brains?”
“Not exactly. He’d still rather you weren’t aboard.”