The presence of the Hazzini on the ground made Jan have second thoughts about her plan to detonate the fire bomb that night. But she told herself that she was just looking for an excuse to postpone the moment of no return. The aim was to destroy the Lord Pangloth and all those on board—what difference did it make how the sky people died? Whether they died by fire, by falling to the ground, or became victims to the Hazzini, it was all the same. Nor could she allow the fact that the Hazzini would reduce her own slim hope of survival to vanishing point to influence her. No, she had no choice—it had to be tonight.
With working conditions so difficult Jan’s body was a mass of aching muscles by the end of the long shift. During a short break in the middle of the day she had complained to Milo that the sky people were foolish not to make use of chimps as hull cleaners. “They’d make perfect glass walkers,” she’d told him as they’d sat side by side. “Be a lot quicker than us too.”
“True,” he agreed. “But the sky people never make use of any of the ‘altered’ animals. Against their religion. They consider them to be unclean—tainted. Yet another part of the cultural fall-out from the Gene Wars. You Minervans weren’t the only ones to develop some strange ideas about the Old Science.”
She ignored the gibe. She was too exhausted to get angry with him. “We didn’t make use of any Old Science, true, but there was no law against using the animals. It wasn’t their fault they’d been altered. Once, long ago, we had all sorts of animals in Minerva but by the time I was born we only had the chimps. The others had all become unreliable. Even the male chimps couldn’t be trusted any more. We had to cage them up when they reached a certain age.”
“Interesting,” he said. “But it’s only to be expected. There was no way the genetic engineers could ensure long-term stability in their designer chromosomes. Mutations can’t be prevented so bugs are going to get into the program. More and more throwbacks will occur. Like you.”
“Like me?” she said, surprised.
“Of course. You’re unusually small for a Minervan. You’re obviously a throwback. Oh, I’m sure that in all other ways, apart from your size, you’re a genetically sound Minervan—you certainly have the typical Minervan physique and features: androgynous body with long legs, small breasts, muscular build, olive skin and a very attractive face. It’s probably just the genetic material relating to your growth that’s affected, but it would be interesting to see any of your children that resulted from a union with a non-Minervan male.”
His clinical appraisal of her body annoyed her, even though she had been vaguely flattered by the reference to her ’very attractive’ face. But what hurt most of all was his mention of her having children. No chance of that, she thought grimly. No chance of anything after tonight.
There was a considerable distance between the hatchway and the place where the glass cage was waiting to take them down, which suited Jan’s plans perfectly. She lagged behind the strung-out group of slaves as they made their way through the structural confusion that was the environment in the space between the two hulls. Milo had told her that the clutter and chaos of the Lord Pangloth’s interior was the work of the succeeding generations of sky people. “For years they’ve been making their increasingly clumsy repairs,” he said. “And various other alterations, such as converting cargo storage areas into living quarters. I doubt if one of the designers of the original Sky Angels would recognize the interior of any of the Sky Lords today.”
Jan seized her chance. She ducked behind a slanting girder then quickly retreated into the protection of the shadows. Moving as quietly as possible she intended to put as much distance between herself and the others before her absence was discovered. It was Milo who worried her the most. He would surely be the first to see she was missing, and he was certain to be the most persistent in searching for her.
The further she ran the darker it got. Only the areas regularly used had been provided with illumination. She halted and crouched down, listening. She could hear the voices of the slaves receding into the distance. Then came silence, disturbed only by the creaking of the hulls. She continued on. Because she was heading towards one side the curvature of the floor soon became more acute and finally she was obliged to stop again for fear of slipping and hurting herself in the dark. She clung to a strut, panting. Then she heard a distant shout. It was her name. They were looking for her.
She had no idea how long she waited there in the almost total blackness. At one point one of her searchers seemed to get quite close. Or at least his voice sounded loud as he shouted her name. She was sure it was Milo. If anyone found her it would be him. His sorcerer’s powers probably enabled him to see in the dark. …
But Milo didn’t find her, and when all became silent again she knew she had achieved the first part of her plan. She started moving again, having to feel her way along. She retraced her steps a certain distance, until the slope became less acute, then tried to proceed towards the bow.
She was disorientated now. She would have to establish the position of the forward hatchway before she would know exactly where she was. She headed in what she hoped was the right direction. She was relieved when she eventually saw the glow of lights ahead of her. Then, to her dismay, she heard the murmur of voices. She dropped to a crouch and proceeded cautiously. She saw that she had indeed found her way back to the hatchway but a group of Sky Warriors were sitting around the ladder, their helmets off.
For a moment Jan thought they had remained to search for her but then she realized they were still on guard duty because of the Hazzini.
Having pinpointed her position she headed back into the darkness again, moving parallel to the pathway between the hatchway and the spot where the glass cage emerged from its shaft. Her destination was one of the entry-points into the network of catwalks beneath the inner hull that permitted inspection of the membrane of the gas cells. When Milo had told her about these a couple of days ago, pointing one out, she knew she had found the perfect place to set off the bomb.
She had intended to go down the nearest entry-point but with the Warriors at the hatchway she would have to use one much further away.
When Jan decided she was a safe distance from the Warriors she lifted the thin, circular hatch of the entry point she had chosen. A short ladder extended below. She climbed down. At least the inspection tunnels were well-illuminated by the strange ‘cold’ lamps that Milo had told her contained living cells. She closed the hatch and began to move along the tunnel, her body bent forward to avoid hitting her head on the ceiling. The walls of the tunnel were actually the membrane of the huge cell whose top she was crossing like some tiny insect. It gave her a queasy feeling to think that below the thin metal mesh of the catwalk floor, and the membrane pressed against it, there was a drop of over a thousand feet.
She came to a halt. Here was as good a place as any. Jan took off her overalls, squatted down and removed the bomb from her vagina. She had been obliged to conceal it within herself again after Milo had warned her of the spot checks carried out by Warriors to see if anyone was carrying anything capable of producing sparks or flames in the forbidden area. There was the chance, of course, that they wouldn’t recognize it for what it was but she couldn’t afford to take that chance. There had been no checks during the last four days, however, and now it didn’t matter.
Jan unwrapped the device and gazed at it. She remembered her mother’s words—twist the end in the direction of the arrow. Simple. Then she would jam it between the mesh and the surface of the membrane. Thirty seconds later it would detonate, spewing out burning liquid. The cell membrane, she had learned from Milo, was very tough—like all the components of the Sky Lord that had been made in that factory in space she still couldn’t really believe in—but she was confident the contents of the bomb would burn through it. And on the other side of the membrane waited millions of cubic feet of hydrogen. …