far could I have got, without the Pans’ assistance?’
‘Maybe I’m missing something,’ Gribelin said, ‘but if the Pans are paying me, why is this shit happening?’
‘Let’s not allow this to come between us, Grib,’ Dorcas said soothingly. ‘We’re both too old for that. You’ve done an honest job and you’ve been paid for it. You had no right to assist in the extraction of materials from the Evolvarium, so you could say that you’re getting off very lightly by being interdicted before the crime could be fully actualised.’
‘I told you what we had in mind. You said nothing about stealing the fucking box from me at the last minute.’
‘Yes, well, that was before I was fully cognisant of the possibilities.’
‘When did they contact you?’ Sunday asked. ‘Was it yesterday, after we’d been brought aboard? Was that why you delayed the dig, when we still had daylight to spare? So you could haggle terms with the Pans?’
‘She’s not going to admit to them being behind this,’ Jitendra said.
‘No,’ Sunday said. ‘You’re right. But I thought they could be trusted – to a point, at least. I trusted Chama and Gleb. I even trusted Holroyd. And if they’re screwing
‘I very much doubt that Chama and Gleb had anything to do with this,’ Jitendra said.
On an open channel, obviously not caring that her words would be heard by everyone present, Dorcas said, ‘The box is secure. Send down two more crew to pick us up and start prepping for departure. I want to be out of here before the golem leads the hammerheads to us.’
‘May be a bit late for that,’ Gribelin said, angling his helmet to nod eastwards. Still kneeling, Sunday twisted to look as well, keeping her movements smooth and slow. She made out a plume of dust, a bumbling silver glint at the point where it met the ground.
Dorcas cursed, some Martian oath that the translation layer couldn’t parse. ‘I was meant to be alerted!’
‘Nine kays and closing,’ Sibyl said. ‘There’s still time, if we hurry.’
Dorcas prodded Sunday. ‘Get up.’
‘Make your mind up. You just told me to kneel down.’
This time the prod was harder, enough to rattle Sunday’s head against the inside of her helmet. ‘I won’t ask again. Remember, bad things happen out here. No one’s going to bat so much as an eyelid if you don’t show up in Vishniac again. They went into the Evolvarium without an official escort – what were they expecting?’
Sunday rose. ‘Whatever you think you’re doing, understand this. You’re not just stealing this box from me. You’re stealing the corporate property of Akinya Space. Are you really sure you want to make an enemy of us?’
‘Tell that to Lin Wei. I seem to remember Akinya Space stuck the knife in her business, all those years ago.’ A prod, less violent this time. ‘Now walk. All of you. Go as far as that ridge, and keep close to each other.’
Sunday pushed any thoughts of grand heroics out of her mind. She wasn’t going to take a chance against the piton-driver, not when Dorcas was only a few paces behind her. The three of them did as they were instructed, leaving Sibyl free to retrieve the smaller box. Turning to look back while she walked, Sunday watched the other woman extract the lacquered box from the larger container without incident. She held it up to her visor and with one gloved hand eased up the patterned lid.
Sibyl examined the contents for a few seconds, poking a finger into whatever was inside, then closed the lid carefully. There was no way of telling what she’d seen.
‘Keep walking,’ Dorcas said.
Despite the order, Gribelin stopped and pointed. ‘Hammerhead!’ he bellowed, like a whaler sighting a spout.
‘Move!’ Dorcas snarled.
The hammerhead was some distance beyond the golem’s rover, but it was rearing up now, assuming full and dreadful aspect. Sunday’s visor graphed up a high-mag zoom, sensing her focus. A down-angled claw hammer, big as the rover itself, pivoted on the head-end of a mechanical spine as long as a train. The machine cut through the terrain in an S-wave, each of its house-sized spinal modules equipped with out-jutting legs, sinuous and in constant whipping motion. The golem was travelling quickly, kicking dust back at its pursuer, but the hammerhead looked to be gaining. They watched it scoop up boulders and fling them through the air, raining down on the golem with ballistic precision.
Sunday had been running from the golem from the moment it had announced itself in Crommelin, but now she welcomed its arrival. Given the alternative, she would far rather deal with Lucas than Dorcas and the Pans. Watching the hammerhead close the distance on the rover, she willed the golem forward.
It wasn’t enough. A car-sized boulder spun through the air, barely missing the rover and landing slightly ahead of it. The rover bludgeoned into the obstacle, its nose digging down as its tail flipped up. Wheels spun in the air. The rover, its front end crumpled, fell onto its side. The hammerhead continued throwing rocks as it approached.
Sunday tore her gaze away from the spectacle long enough to see the airship reaching down its arms to scoop up Dorcas and Sibyl. It hauled them into the sky, along with their improvised weapons and the black box.
‘Good luck!’ Dorcas said over the suit-to-suit channel. ‘We’ll do what we can to push that hammerhead away, but I wouldn’t stick around if I were you.’ She let her piton-gun fall to the dust. ‘I’ll buy you a drink next time we’re both in Vishniac, Grib.’
The gondola’s airlock was open: another crewperson was waiting to receive Dorcas and Sibyl. The airship’s engines swivelled on their mountings, the deltoid gasbag turning with the ponderousness of a cloud. Gribelin looked dumbstruck. He was hurrying back to the truck, kicking dust with his heels. He paused to scoop up the piton-gun, shaking the dirt from its workings. Sunday and Jitendra started after him.
But she couldn’t not look at the golem. The hammerhead was on it now, rearing above the crashed rover. It swung back its head, angling it as far as the hinge allowed, then swung the hammer down, putting its entire body into the movement so that it looked, for an instant, as if the robot were no more than a whip being cracked. The
