Sitting in the front of the stalls was an old woman wearing an extravagant lace-embellished gown Yirella associated with the kind of cantankerous dowager always to be found in a Jane Austen novel. If it hadn’t been for that fanciful gown, Yirella could’ve easily imagined the woman had walked onto the Morgan straight out of the Neolithic age. A visual subroutine gave a forty-three per cent probability it was Tilliana. When Yirella really concentrated, she could pick out the characteristics she’d known all her life, aged and worn by nine decades.
She sank to her knees beside Tilliana. ‘Till? Till, is that you?’
An aghast Tilliana looked at her and began a pitiful wailing. ‘Who are you? You’re not part of the cast. I didn’t texture you. Are you Olyix? Have you come for us?’
‘No, I’m not Olyix. I’m very human, I promise.’
The orchestra stopped playing, and up on the stage the actors became still. Yirella tried to ignore the way the whole audience was now staring at her.
‘It’s been so long,’ Tilliana said. ‘I know this is your punishment, making us suffer for coming to the enclave.’
Yirella reached for Tilliana’s clawlike hands, only to have them jerked away. ‘No, Till. I’m not Olyix. I’m Yirella, but I’m riding the Ainsley android. Do you remember me? Do you remember the android? We thought it was so funny when we arrived at the neutron star, so childish of Ainsley, not wearing clothes.’
‘Ainsley? Ainsley was so fine. A ship that could’ve been built in heaven itself.’
‘Yes. Yes, he is a fine ship, the best. And me, Tilliana, do you remember me? Yirella?’
‘I remember Yirella. We lost her when we came to the enclave. We lost everyone. They all froze outside; unmoving forever. The Olyix are making them wait until the end of time while they punish us. But they’re making us live through all of those billions of years. It’s because we were in tactical, you know. That’s what we decided. We were in charge, so they blamed us. We’re the only ones left.’ Tears began rolling down her cheeks.
‘I’m not lost, Till. I’m still here. The Olyix have screwed with time inside the Morgan. You’ve lived so much longer than us. But I am Yirella. We grew up together on the Immerle estate. Alexandre was our mentor, remember? Is Alexandre here? Is sie okay?’
‘Oh, no, dear. Alexandre has been dead since that very first day.’
‘No!’ She couldn’t help the cry of dismay. For an array that struggled to perform emotional routines, that was a blow so raw she knew she must be trying to cry. It was useless; those particular impulses went nowhere. Ainsley hadn’t included tear ducts in the android. ‘How? How did sie die?’
‘Sie tried to walk into another section. We didn’t understand. Sie just fell over dead, but sie never decayed. Hir body’s still there. I think so, anyway. I haven’t visited for years, now.’
‘And Ellici? Is she still alive?’
Tilliana gave a mournful nod. ‘She’s still alive. But it was all too much for her. She hasn’t been herself for a while now. It’s been hard, you know. Life can be such a burden when there is nothing you can use it for. Sometimes I think I should just let it end, but she needs me to look after her. So I have my shows and my music stored in what’s left of the network. Perhaps that was a mistake.’
‘No. It wasn’t. I’m here now. We’re going to get out of this.’
‘I don’t think so, dear. I don’t know who you really are, but there’s no way out of the enclave. It is eternal.’
‘Can I see Ellici, please? I’d be very grateful.’
‘I suppose there’s no harm.’ The Teatro Regio and its phantom audience of opera enthusiasts slowly faded away into neutral textured cabin walls. ‘Help me up, dear; my arthritis is quite troublesome now. The clinic’s pharma dispenser stopped working a while back. I couldn’t repair it any more. There aren’t any initiators in this portion of the ship.’
‘I know.’ She helped Tilliana get to her feet. It was easy enough; the old woman was so thin. Yirella was surprised and a little disturbed by how little she weighed. Once she was upright, Tilliana continued to grip the android’s arm for support. By the time they reached Ellici’s cabin, the exertion was causing her to tremble continuously.
‘You go in,’ Tilliana said. ‘I’m a bit tired. She can be exhausting.’
The doors opened, revealing a dimly lit room. It wasn’t textured in a way Yirella recognized. No cultural classic home, no historical city vista just outside. The walls were a thick silver-grey cushion, as was the floor, and even the ceiling, apart from a few inset strips that radiated the diffuse light. There was a toilet basin – also padded, inside and out – and a small sink alcove that appeared to have been scooped out of the wall.
The only other thing in the room was the bed, a raised rectangular slab. Thickly padded. Ellici lay on it, dressed in a dreadfully filthy, thin one-piece suit that Yirella recognized: a spacesuit’s skin layer, a garment designed to keep body temperature stable and extract human waste. Her knees were drawn up against her stomach and her hands were drawing invisible pictures on the padding. Not that she seemed to be looking at them; her eyes were unfocused.
‘Oh, no,’ Yirella moaned. The sight of her vibrant friend reduced to this was too much. She’d always accepted that they’d stay together for ages yet, staying the same thanks to the ability to rebuild and rejuvenate their bodies. Maybe in time, perhaps back on Earth reclaimed, they’d eventually go their separate ways. But there would be decades of warning. This, though – this was the cruellest weapon the Olyix had ever attacked the humans
