Blue Remembered Earth

‘Should have seen this coming,’ Geoffrey said. ‘Hector doesn’t want the Kinyeti’s crew getting any closer to the Winter Palace than necessary. Still playing family secrets close to his chest.’

‘Kinyeti is withdrawing,’ Arethusa said as the bigger ship fired a string of steering motors along its spine. ‘Guess they’ll be returning to collect Hector, but for the moment he’s told them to keep the hell away.’

‘They’ll be paid well enough not to ask awkward questions,’ Geoffrey said.

Once he was on his way, it only took Hector twenty minutes to complete the crossing to the Winter Palace. Using the capsule’s micro-thrusters, he executed one inspection pass, spiralling around the station’s cylinder from end to end before closing in for final docking. If the Winter Palace had queried the little ship’s approach authorisation – and then given clearance to commence final docking manoeuvres – there was no practical way to intercept that tight-beamed comms traffic from the Quaynor. Geoffrey could only presume that they would be challenged on their own approach.

‘Synching for dock,’ Gilbert said as Hector’s ship went into a slow roll, matching the station’s centrifugal spin rate. ‘Contact and capture in five . . . four . . . three . . .’

The capsule docked. Clamp arms folded down to secure it. Two or three minutes passed and then there was an exhalation of silvery glitter from the airlock collar. A gasp of escaping pressure, held there since the last time the lock was activated, and then the seals locked tight. The tiny capsule was almost lost in the details of the station’s endcap docking and service structures.

‘Lining us up for the other pole,’ Gilbert said, tapping commands into one of the fold-down keypads. ‘Think we can pass through the entire structure?’

‘It’s just a big hollow tube, with Winter Queen running down the middle,’ Geoffrey said. ‘We shouldn’t have any problems, especially as Arethusa already chinged aboard not so long ago.’

‘I only saw what she let me see,’ Arethusa warned.

Hector’s transfer into the smaller ship had eaten into his lead over the Quaynor, but they were still thirty minutes from docking. Geoffrey drummed his fingertips, the seconds crawling by with agonising slowness. He couldn’t see Hector taking his time inside, no matter the novelty value of being able to roam at will through Eunice’s private kingdom.

They were fifty kilometres out when the first challenge came: shrill and automated, fully in keeping with Eunice’s general policy of not extending a magnanimous welcome to visitors. ‘Unidentified vehicle on approach heading one-one-nine, three-one-seven: you do not have docking or fly-by authorisation. Please adjust your vector to comply with our mandatory exclusion volume.’ The voice, which was speaking Swahili, could easily have passed for his grandmother’s. ‘If you do not adjust your vector, we cannot be held responsible for any damage caused by our anti-collision systems.’

‘Hold the course,’ Geoffrey said. ‘Let her – it – know we mean business. Eunice: are you listening to me?’

‘I’m here,’ the construct said, deigning not to project a figment into what was already a cramped space.

‘Make yourself heard by everyone present, including Arethusa. No reason for them not to listen in on our conversation.’

‘Sunday wouldn’t like that.’

‘Do it anyway. I’m ordering you.’

There was a barely measurable pause. ‘It’s done. They can hear me now.’

‘Good.’ Geoffrey looked around at his companions, trusting that they’d settle for asking questions later. ‘I’m afraid there’s no time to bring you up to speed right now, Eunice, but we need docking permission for the Winter Palace.’

‘Tell it you’re on Akinya business.’

There was little point seeking the construct’s guidance if he was not willing to give her suggestions the benefit of the doubt. ‘Mira – am I patched through?’

‘Say your piece,’ Gilbert said.

‘This is Geoffrey Akinya, grandson of Eunice. I am aboard the deep-space vehicle Quaynor, requesting approach and docking authorisation.’ He waited a moment, then, for all that it sounded pompous, added, ‘I am on important family business.’

‘Approach approval has already been assigned to Hector Akinya. No further docking slots are available.’

Geoffrey ground his teeth. ‘Hector is docked at one pole; we can come in at the other.’

‘No further docking slots are available,’ the voice repeated, but this time with an edge of menace.

‘I have the right to come in,’ Geoffrey said. ‘Disarm your anti-collision systems and give me clearance for the unoccupied dock. You have no choice but to comply with a family instruction.’

‘Your identity is not verified. Desist approach and adjust your vector.’

‘It doesn’t believe you’re you,’ Eunice said.

Geoffrey bit off a sarcastic response before it left his mouth. ‘Why did it accept Hector, and not me?’

‘Hector came in on an Akinya vehicle, showing Akinya registration – the same way Memphis would have done. The Winter Palace had no reason not to let him through.’

He grimaced. ‘Mira – can we fake a civil registration?’

‘Not infallibly, not legally and most certainly not now, given that the habitat already has us pegged as being under different ownership.’ Gilbert shot him an apologetic glance. ‘You’re just going to have to talk your way through this one, Geoffrey. Even Jumai can’t help us until we’re docked.’

‘Need some ideas here, Eunice,’ he said.

‘If the habitat recognises the notion of family visiting rights, if it grasps that Hector is an Akinya and it therefore