he attempted to hold himself in place between two narrow metal spars. He felt as if a giant fist was squeezing his torso, and his lungs protested as he gasped for air. His vision swam and he cried out in pain.
He was wondering how much more he could take when the G-force abated. He opened his eyes and managed to fill his bruised lungs. Little by little the pain diminished, and he knew that the brief trauma had been worth the reward of escape.
Klien sat up and smiled at the thought of what Commissioner Singh might make of his disappearance, so soon after his questioning over the crucifix killings. The mystery would cause quite a stir among his former colleagues. He considered everything he was leaving behind on Earth, which was not, all things considered, that much: a house, a few possessions, his paintings and music collection. He considered the sacrifice with little regret. He had made no friends during his time in Calcutta, deliberately avoiding intimacy of any kind. He was leaving behind his old way of life, his old identity, after fifteen long and difficult years, and he had no regrets at all. At last, against all expectations, he had succeeded.
Minutes later the ship phased into the void and the roar of the engines was replaced with a strange and silent calm. He heard Bennett escort the girl from the flight-deck and explain the process of suspension. “I’ll be waking up halfway through the journey to run a few checks,” Bennett told her. “See you in four months.”
Klien heard a suspension unit sigh open, and then close as the girl gave herself to the long sleep. Minutes later another unit opened and Bennett climbed in and laid himself out. He heard Bennett exhale as he lost consciousness, and then the hum of machinery go to work on the pilot.
Klien waited a further ten minutes, and then let himself out of the engine compartment. He moved to the suspension chamber, chastising himself for being so furtive. He had the ship to himself, and there was no way that Bennett or the girl might detect his presence.
He stood between the suspension units and stared through the clear covers at the sleepers. The corner of the folded softscreen projected from the pouch of Bennett’s flight-suit. The girl lay frozen, as still and perfect in her beauty as some fairytale princess. Klien smiled to himself. They seemed so content, little realising that their mission would end in failure.
He considered killing Bennett and the girl while they slept, but decided against that course of action. He had examined the complex control systems of the ship. If he killed Bennett now he would effectively be signing his own death warrant, as there was no way he could pilot the Cobra safely through the turbulent atmosphere of Homefall. He would call a temporary stay of execution for the pilot and the girl. He would kill them later, when they had delivered him safely to the planet of his birth.
He made himself at home in the berth opposite the suspension chamber. During the following weeks he ate well and kept himself fit with regular exercise. He even found to his delight that the ship possessed an excellent library of classical music discs.
For long hours he sat in the pilot’s seat as stirring symphonies swelled round him, staring out at the star- streaked void and contemplating his triumphal return to Homefall.
22
Bennett rocked in his command couch as the Cobra phased out of the void. Tenebrae filled the viewscreen, awesome in its breadth, and Bennett had to search its face for Penumbra. He found the planet at last, a minuscule violet coin silhouetted against a central streamer of pastel green gas. As the Cobra accelerated towards Penumbra, he checked the flight program one last time and unstrapped himself from the couch.
He moved to the suspension chamber. Rana Rao’s unit was open, and she was blinking up at him. “We’re here?”
“Estimated time of arrival, one hour. Clean up and join me on the flight-deck. The view’s spectacular.”
She struggled upright. “It doesn’t seem two minutes since I climbed into this thing.”
“No dreams?”
She frowned. “No—yes.” She smiled at him. “I dreamed of my father, when I was young. We were playing on the lawn. It’s a recurring image. I’m—”
“Apprehensive about meeting him after so long?”
She jogged her head in that quaint Indian gesture that seemed to Bennett to signify a qualified affirmative. “A little. So many things have happened, and the circumstances of our meeting will be so strange.”
He smiled. “I’ll be on the flight-deck. See you soon.”
As he strapped himself into the command couch, he looked ahead to the landing and reunion, the handing over of the softscreen to Mackendrick and the rebels. He wondered at Mack’s reaction to being reunited, after so long, with the daughter he had lost.
Rana joined him fifteen minutes later, climbing into the co-pilot’s seat and staring in wonder through the viewscreen.
Bennett told her about his involvement with Mackendrick and his mission, the landing on Penumbra and subsequent escapades. Then he asked Rana why she had run away from home, all those years ago. Reluctantly at first, Rana told him about her unhappy childhood, how running away from parents who seemed not to care about her had seemed the right thing to do at the time. She told him about her years on the street, and her rise to the rank of police lieutenant. Her manner of speech was quick and precise, her delicate articulate hands turning with a million gestures. He was mesmerised by her impossibly large eyes, which seemed to contain at once the dark shadows of experience and the light of hope for the future. He thought that there was something immensely strong about the woman, but that also within her was the vulnerable child who had run away from home so long ago.
She stared through the viewscreen at Penumbra turning slowly before them, and behind it the immense backdrop of the gas giant. “It’s hard to imagine that my father is down there.”
As they watched, Penumbra grew from the size of a coin held at arm’s length, expanding like a ball thrown towards them in slow motion. Soon it filled the view-screen, a rolling sphere wrapped in bands of cloud.
“Strap yourself in, Rana,” Bennett said. “The ride down might be bumpy.”
They entered the cloud cover. For long minutes they experienced nothing but a glowing opalescence beyond the viewscreen, and vision-impairing vibration as atmospheric turbulence rattled the ship. Then they fell from the clouds, the sudden appearance of purple-clad plains and mountains startling to the eye. Rana gasped and leaned forward against her harness, staring down at the folded hills far below and the upthrust mountain ranges. They were travelling at a little over twenty-five thousand kilometres an hour, and the land below seemed only to be crawling by.
To their left, Tenebrae was rising slowly over the line of mountains. Another day was dawning on Penumbra.
Bennett had programmed the Cobra to approach the plain where they had originally landed, and then relinquish control to him. From there he would fly the Cobra up the valley and into the mountains where the rebels had their hide-out. He had copied their co-ordinates into his com-board; it would be a matter of seat-of-the-pants flying through the mountain peaks until they reached the valley. He smiled as he imagined the reaction when Mack, Ten Lee and the rebels heard the sonic booms announcing their arrival.
The Cobra screamed down the long valley plain at an altitude of five hundred metres. This low, with the mountains slipping by to either side, the sensation of speed was breathtaking. Rana gripped the arms of the couch like a child on a funfair ride.
“Down there to the right,” Bennett pointed out, “you can just see the ruins we found the day after we landed.”
They appeared briefly, reduced to the size of a child’s model, and then were gone.
Minutes before they came to the colonists’ original timber settlement and the crash-landed spaceship, Bennett took control of the Cobra, decelerated and veered right, ascending over the foothills towards the western mountains. He glanced at the screen of his com-board, reading the distance they had to travel to the rebel valley. Two hundred kilometres and falling… estimated time of arrival, four minutes.
Bennett eased the Cobra between great mountain peaks, covered with blinding white snow at this altitude and whipped by raging winds. He slowed, banked around a clenched fist of rock, and planed down into the broad saddle of purple grassland.
