‘You just had to ask nicely.’
Hector clenched his fists again, made one final attempt to break the restraints by force, then said, ‘Release me.’
The ship let him go. Hector stretched his arms, holding them out from his body against the acceleration. Geoffrey remembered that his cousin had been confined to the chair for a lot longer than he had, and had spent much of that interval expecting to die. For the first time in a very long while he felt a dim flicker of empathy.
They were blood, after all.
‘I guess the next thing is to tell it to stop and let us off.’
Hector strained forward. ‘This is Hector Akinya. Acknowledge command authority.’
‘Welcome, Hector Akinya,’ the ship said, speaking in what Geoffrey recognised as the voice of Memphis, or one very close to it. ‘Welcome, Geoffrey Akinya.’
‘Stop engines,’ Hector said, in the tones of one who was used to getting his way. ‘Immediately. Return us to Lunar orbit.’
‘Propulsion and navigation control are currently suspended, Hector.’
Geoffrey issued the same command, was met by the same polite but firm rebuttal. It was irksome to have Memphis speaking back, as if the ship failed to grasp that mimicking the voice of a recently dead man was an act of grave tactlessness.
‘How long?’ he asked. Then, sensing that the ship might need clarification: ‘For how long are propulsion and navigation control suspended?’
‘For the duration of the trip, Geoffrey.’
Hector looked at him, evidently sharing his profound unease at that answer. ‘State our destination, and the duration of the trip,’ he said.
‘Our destination is KBO 2071 NK subscript 789,’ the ship said. ‘Akinya Space Trans-Neptunian asset 116 stroke 133, codename Lionheart. Trip time will be fifty-two days.’
Hector listened to that and shook his head.
‘What?’ Geoffrey asked, growing impatient. ‘Is that the same place or not?’
‘It’s the same iceteroid where the ship was built. I remember the name, Lionheart. But that’s
Geoffrey could only nod. He knew how long it had taken the swiftship to get Sunday to Mars, and Mars was a hop and a skip away compared to Neptune’s orbit. ‘Eunice’s mission to the edge of the system took a lot longer than a hundred days, even allowing for the return time.’
‘More than a year. So either the ship is bullshitting us, for no reason at all, or . . .’ Hector didn’t seem to know where to go with that.
‘Or we’re on a very fast ship.’
‘Nothing’s that fast.’
‘Until now,’ Geoffrey said.
Behind them, the command deck doors opened. Geoffrey twisted around in his harness, straining to see past the bulk of his seat. His heart skipped at the sight of a proxy, looming in the doorway. It was one of the shipboard units he’d seen earlier – a man-shaped chassis constructed from tubes and joints.
It was cradling a body, and he recognised it.
‘This female has suffered minor concussion, but is otherwise uninjured.’ The proxy spoke with the voice of the ship. ‘Shall I convey her to the medical suite?’
Geoffrey unbuckled his harness. They were still accelerating, but the thrust appeared to have levelled out at around one gee. He could move around in that without difficulty, provided he took care. ‘Do so,’ he said.
‘I thought you said you were alone.’
‘I thought I was.’
Hector was in the process of undoing his own restraints when a ching request arrived. Geoffrey voked acknowledgement and placed Mira Gilbert’s head and upper torso in the middle of the command deck. He voked Hector in on the conversation.
‘Unless someone’s spoofing the return signal, you’re alive,’ Gilbert’s figment said. ‘We’ve been trying to establish contact since . . . well, whatever it was that happened. We’ll get to that in a moment. Are you all right?’
Geoffrey took a moment to decide how to answer that question truthfully. ‘I’m fine . . . for the time being. Beyond that, things become a little murky. I’m with Hector – he’s OK as well. Since you seem to be alive, I presume Jumai got word through?’
‘Jumai reached the point where she was able to signal us. She told us to undock immediately and execute a safe-distancing manoeuvre. I told her I’d wait until she was in the lock, but she insisted on going back inside.’
‘I know. We just found her.’
‘How is she?’
‘I’m guessing she made it onto the ship just before we departed. She must have been knocked around a bit, but the proxy tells me there isn’t anything seriously wrong with her.’
Gilbert’s figment nodded. ‘OK – next question. The habitat’s gone. Presumably you worked that much out for
