Newton's Wake

‘It’s aw right,’ Duncan said awkwardly. ‘You’re aw right.’

She stared at the lads and hugged her knees through the covers. ‘I died,’ she said. ‘I died, I died, I died.’

Kevin took a step towards her.

‘Keep away from me!’ she shouted. He looked around and sat down on the edge of a wicker chair. Duncan propped himself on the windowsill.

‘How could you let me dae that?’ she accused.

‘We didnae let you,’ said Kevin, sounding aggrieved. ‘It was aw your idea. We didnae even ken you were gonnae dae that.’

She thought about it. ‘I suppose you’re right,’ she said. ‘Sorry. God.’ She put her hands to her head. Her hair was short and felt downy. ‘I must have been crazy.’

‘You could say that,’ said Duncan. ‘I won’t. It was brave, I’ll give you that.’

‘I hope it was worth it,’ she said. Her tone was faintly self-deprecating; she was absolutely confident it had been worth it, from the family’s point of view and hers, if not from that of her predecessor, her unfortunate original.

‘Well, kindae …’ said Kevin. Duncan shot him a look.

‘What dae ye mean?’ Lucinda asked.

Kevin sighed. ‘It’s a bit complicated. Best discuss it when you’re up, aye?’

He jerked his thumb at the door. Duncan followed him out.

‘See you in a minute,’ Kevin said, as the door closed.

Lucinda sat and shook for more than a minute. There was something absurd about her situation. Total novelty combined with utter familiarity. Physically she had never felt better. She was even hungry. None of the trauma that her original must have gone through could affect her in the slightest. It took some introspection for her to recognise the feeling that made her shake. It was the feeling she remembered from occasions when she’d been unharmed but had narrowly escaped death. That sense of the fragility of existence. She held the thought until it faded into a glow of gratitude for being alive, then very deliberately put it out of her mind.

She swung out of bed and stood up in a soft but plain green hospital gown. She pulled it over her head and tossed it in the drexler. Naked in front of the mirror, she inspected herself. Her skin was very smooth, not a callus on her feet. Her hair was soft and curly, not nearly dark enough. For the rest, she seemed to have rejuvenated about five years. Her face struck her as unused and naive; all evidence of her experience and earned cunning sponged away like so much makeup.

She dialled up a sharp, military-style suit and shoes, and showered while the drexler chugged and spun. A vain effort to tug her hair a bit straighter and longer-looking only made her wince and realise how close she might still be to crying. Dressed, she struck herself as far too cute. More like a cadet than a soldier. It would have to do. She went out and marched through to the main living space.

‘You look … smart,’ said Kevin. He’d thoughtfully made her some coffee and cereal.

‘What’s this about—’

‘Eat,’ her cousin said. She sat down at the table.

Duncan prowled the file racks. Kevin stared out of the window, overlooking the street. The cereal filled her mouth and her belly. She pushed away the empty bowl, poured another coffee.

‘I’m up to strength,’ she said. ‘Get me up to speed.’

Duncan retreated a bit, sprawled in a web chair. Kevin sat down across from her.

‘Lucinda—’ He paused. ‘Your past self sent you this.’

He handed her an envelope. It was Red Cross stamped, gene-sealed to her. It opened to thumb pressure. A few sheets of astrogram paper slipped out. She examined them. God, had her state of mind been that terrible? It all looked very emotional. She couldn’t read it, not now. She slid them back in the envelope.

‘Later,’ she said. She held up the envelope. ‘How did this get to—from me?’

‘You—’ He paused again, shook his head, pressed on. ‘You didn’t die on Chernobyl, or back here. You found a gate that took you through to a KE homeworld. They took you prisoner, tried to save you, failed. You sent two messages back. One was that letter. The other was to the family. Not so personal. It told us what had happened.’

‘Did we get the QTD?’

‘Well, yes,’ Kevin said. ‘You recovered it aw right. But it and the ship you hired got wheeched away by another ship. One ae they DK ships you told us about. You found out later it was the Knights who stole it.’

Lucinda jumped up. ‘It was all for nothing?’

‘No, no,’ said Kevin. ‘Uh, look, it’s aw right, calm down—’

‘Don’t you fucking tell me to—’

She collapsed back into the chair, breathed heavily a few times. ‘Aw right. Go on.’

‘The information you sent back was worth mair to us than a ship,’ Kevin said. ‘Uh, could you please, like, bear that in mind, see?’

‘OK,’ she said.

He told her it all, the whole thing: Johnstone’s betrayal, the enormously greater significance of the relic on Eurydice than anyone had suspected. Now they were fighting the Knights not just for control of a skein nexus, but for control of the entire skein, for starters. And for all that he had told her of how important this information was to the family, all that it meant to her was that her initial screwup on Eurydice had been far worse than she’d realised, and that in her last expedition she had fucked up again.

She didn’t want to talk about that. Let it hang unspoken between them. Right now all she could do was try to repair the damage.

‘What happened to the other woman?’ she asked. ‘The metal-head?’

Kevin rasped his jawline. ‘Um,’ he said. ‘Like I said, she went through with you—’

‘No, I know that, I mean did she come back?’

Kevin glanced over at Duncan.

‘Ah, fuck, tell her,’ Duncan said.

‘She came back aw right,’ Kevin said. ‘In fact she came back wi your letters. She’s spitting blood, or she would if she had any blood tae spit.’

‘Oh, my God!’ Lucinda had a sudden sickening vision, or rather two: of Morag Higgins reattached to her radiation-raddled corpse, and of her being sent back as a head in a box. ‘How is she—’

Kevin looked at her oddly. ‘There’s nothing wrang wi her. That’s her problem. Her heid’s been stravaigin’ aff searching for scrap, you might say, and she’s back wi no just a heid. She’s come back wi a whole metal body.’

Lucinda shuddered. ‘She took a backup before she went. Giving her another and a new body is the least we can do for her.’

‘That’s the strange thing,’ said Kevin. ‘She’s pissed aff, nae doubt about that, but she disnae want tae kill hersel any mair.’

‘Is she angry with me?’

Kevin shook his head. ‘I think she wants tae kill Johnstone.’

‘Johnstone must be dead already,’ Lucinda said.

‘You’re no used tae this,’ Kevin told her, like she needed reminding. ‘The version ae Johnstone who went wi you has nae doubt died. The version he left here was timed tae kick aff his revival as soon as the other was out the door ae the clinic. He fucked aff before we knew aught had gone wrang, took the money and ran. For sure he’s wi the Knights now, probably on Eurydice.’

‘Oh,’ said Lucinda, smiling for the first time in this life. ‘That’s beautiful.’

Kevin looked alarmed. Duncan sprang up from his chair and stalked over. They both glared at her.

‘What?’

‘I hope yir no thinking of another ae yir wee schemes,’ said Kevin. ‘The best ye can hope for is tae join the expeditionary force as a grunt.’

‘There’s an expeditionary force?’ she asked, genuinely interested but also hoping to change the subject.

‘Oh, sure,’ said Kevin. ‘Ian and Amelia are heading it up. Just like you said. She’s doing the starship swap trick and ground liason work on Eurydice, and Ian’s found some mair gates to the same place you did. Well, the