The door spun open. Mindless of the drop beneath him, he jumped to the floor. The remotes spun back to their cage, the door closed, the ship started to move.
Va lay on the deck, unconscious. The others looked at Benzamir, and he at them. He had so much to say, but now wasn’t the time.
‘Excuse me,’ he said. His voice had gone quiet and controlled, in contrast to the turmoil he felt inside. But they stood aside instantly, and he carried Elenya from the cargo bay and towards the ship’s surgeon.
‘You cannot account for every twist of fate, Benzamir,’ said Ariadne. ‘Not everything is your fault.’
He turned sideways through the door and laid her on the surgeon’s table. Immediately arms with needles and scissors sprang out and started pricking and snipping. A scanner grazed her body, searching both for the projectile and the damage it had caused.
Benzamir stared at his hands, at the dark spots of blood on his tunic. He felt light-headed, and he sat down on the floor, his back to the coldness of the table plinth.
‘Not everything, no,’ he whispered.
He heard the pneumatic hiss of arterial shunts locking into place, the sucking of vacuum tubes clearing the wound.
‘Ari? I . . .’ He didn’t know what else to say. Something was sticking in his side, and when he touched it, he found the unmaker’s transponder. He held it carelessly between two fingers, watching the light slant through it and refract into rainbows.
Later he would use it to find his enemies, and wonder at the cost of such knowledge.
CHAPTER 36
THE SURFACE HE was lying on was hard and cold, yet obviously not the frozen ground of a Siberian winter. His head thrummed with a low bass note unutterable by human voice.
Then Va remembered. He dragged in a gasp of breath. Something scuttled away from him, and all he could see for a moment was a great steel spider, daggers for feet, as it spun and stabbed its way through the Kenyan emperor’s guards.
He saw a dull black crab-thing wave its antennae and hurry away through a hole in the distant wall.
‘Am I in Hell?’ The witch had killed him with sorcery, and this place was no heaven: full of shadow, evil and unnatural shapes, machines for company. He’d fallen and failed. The past five years of austere holiness hadn’t been enough to counter a lifetime’s worth of slaughter and sin.
He started to cry.
The voice in his head told him not to. It told him that he had to be strong, not to fear, that no one or nothing would hurt him.
Only when the voice switched to Old Russian did he pay it any attention.
‘Brother. Stand up.’
It sounded like the voice of God.
‘Lord?’ He hurried to his feet.
‘Listen to me, Va. You are not dead, and this is not the afterlife. Neither am I your god. My name is Ariadne, and I want to help you.’
Va darted his head this way and that, looking for the source of the voice. He realized that it came from above him.
‘Where are you? Why can’t I see you?’
‘You can see me. I am the room you are in, and every other place here. The walls are my bones.’
‘Show yourself. I can’t tell where you are.’ Va twirled around. ‘Where am I?’
‘This will be difficult for you, Brother Va. You are less adaptable than the others. Neither have you had time to become accustomed to acts of casual magic. One thing I cannot allow you to do is harm me. I will defend myself against you. Whatever your reaction, you must not attempt violence.’
‘I couldn’t hurt you. I wouldn’t.’
‘I wish I could believe you,’ said Ariadne. ‘but your first instinct is destruction. You would try and kill me simply because of who I am.’
‘I’m trying to be good. With God’s help, I’m trying. Why won’t you come out and talk to me?’
‘You hear but you don’t understand. You are on a ship, a special ship that sails between the stars as easily as a boat goes from port to port. When you were in the emperor’s garden and looked up, what did you see?’
‘I . . . I thought I saw a bird. It must have been a big bird, as big as a whale.’
‘That was me. I am the ship. This is my body, Va. I’m not human like you, but I’m still a person.’
Va looked for a door. There was an archway leading out into a corridor, but Ariadne closed it off before he could get through.
‘How did you do that?’ He looked for a latch, something to open it with. ‘Where are you?’
‘You are confined for your own safety, Va. We must reach an understanding before I can let you roam about me at will. There is a great deal of damage you could do that would endanger both me and your companions.’
Va scrabbled around, circling the room like a caged wolf, looking for the slightest opening. Ariadne’s constant conversation with him did nothing to stop the rising panic. He eventually fell to his knees and wrapped his head in his arms, cackling and weeping.
‘Do you remember?’
‘No,’ said Va. ‘I want to forget.’
‘This is important, Va. When you were in the garden, what happened?’
‘You’re a voice in my head. I won’t answer you.’
‘Perhaps this will help. Look up.’
Light started to penetrate between the cracks in Va’s fingers. Slowly he uncurled. There was an angel, wings unfurled, bending down over him. She held out her hand and beckoned him to rise.
‘Is that what you are?’
‘No. I am the ship. I’m just trying to give you a focus, something you recognize as part of your world-view. I could appear as Saint Basil or the Holy Mother if you prefer.’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Va. ‘If you’re not an angel, then who are you?’
‘The ship, Va. The ship. I am the ship. It’s who I am. Ariadne Shipsister. This angel is an avatar, an image I can choose, but what I am is a ship. You can choose to believe me or not,’ she said, ‘but that doesn’t change what I am.’
‘A person can’t be a thing. That’s wrong. This place is full of evil spirits, tormenting me. I am in Hell, I must be.’
Ariadne fluttered her wings noiselessly. ‘You think you know where you are. For you, it’s a place worse than any hell, which is why you try to explain it using the only words you understand. If you were in Hell, there would be demons and devils and souls in torment, and you would recognize it as such. No one in Hell would ever mistake their surroundings for somewhere else.’
Va knew that what the angel said was true. ‘Then you are . . .’ His voice failed.
‘Say it.’
‘No.’
‘You’re wrong, but say it anyway. You have to get past this point and move on to greater understanding.’
‘You’re Users.’ Va spat the word out. He looked around again, for anything he could use as a weapon. Wrecking was God’s work, and this place needed burning as badly as Akisi’s tower in An Cobh.
‘We are not those people you call Users. If you’ll let me, I’ll explain. If you attempt to damage any of my systems, I will subdue you.’ The angel folded her arms. ‘Which is it to be?’
‘The Users were the masters of lies.’
‘And we are not Users. I haven’t lied to you yet. Neither do I intend to do so. It’s not in my nature.’
‘The Users were destroyed by God. How did you escape?’
‘Va, you have to listen to me. My name is Ariadne Shipsister. I am a starship. I was not made by the culture you call Users, and Benzamir is not a User either. The Users are gone, their bones are dust; they only live on in your memory.’ The angel started to lose its shape. ‘I’ll leave you to think on these things. When you are ready, we can talk again.’
‘Wait!’ Va reached out and his hand passed through the angel’s robe. He stared at his hand. ‘How?’