He didn’t like repeating What the whole time; it made him sound totally dumb. But – ‘What?’
‘Yirella has caused quite a stir. Surprise! There’s going to be a big council about it tomorrow. Everyone wanted you to be part of it. Alexandre authorized getting you out of suspension.’
‘Oh, Saints, is she in trouble?’
‘Depends on your point of view.’
‘What’s she done?’
‘How long have you got?’
*
He made it to their quarters to find Yirella holding court with about twenty people, eight of them squad leaders. The remainder were omnia, wearing ship uniforms from across the fleet. Everyone looked grim.
She got to her feet and hugged him for a long time. It was only when he started swaying, about to fall, that she let go. He sat down fast on a couch, and everyone else filed out.
‘It’s all true,’ she said bleakly. ‘Every paranoid theory I ever had, and then some. It’s not just us backward binaries that are puppets; the whole omnia exodus was manipulated. I never thought this – being right, winning – would make me feel like crap.’
‘Saints. What did you find out? Wait: I just realized. Alexandre authorized me coming out of hibernation?’
‘Yeah. Sie’s acting captain at the moment, and has been for two days. A lot of people – crew and squads – are seriously pissed off with Kenelm right now.’
‘So sie has been steering us politically?’
‘Yes, it looks like it.’
‘But you don’t know for sure?’
‘Sie hasn’t been terribly forthcoming. Yet.’ She handed him a tall mug of beef broth and a plate of warm, thick-cut bread. ‘Eat that and listen, you have to be ready for tomorrow.’
*
The council was held in the Morgan’s sports arena, which was packed with seats. Dellian suspected that having people attend in person added to the feeling of involvement and therefore legitimacy. It wasn’t nearly big enough for everyone on the fleet, so ninety per cent of the participants had a virtual presence, with texture walls transforming the open space into an old-style amphitheatre with grass banks. Everyone on the fleet who wasn’t currently in a suspension chamber was accessing the gathering.
When they walked in, Dellian hardly noticed the churn of people hunting for vacant chairs. All he could focus on was Kenelm sitting at one side of the dais that had been set up at the far end of the arena. ‘So how old is sie?’ he asked Yirella.
‘I’m not sure. Maybe three thousand years?’
‘Saints alive!’
They eased past people and stepped up onto the dais. Yirella was given a seat between Napar and Illathan. The two captains greeted her amicably. The remaining fleet captains made up the front row of the virtual attendees, some obviously fresh out of hibernation.
Dellian went over and sat close to Cinrea, who had chosen the other side of the dais from Kenelm. It was strange seeing hir in a uniform that no longer had the captain’s insignia. As he settled in, Dellian noticed just how much animosity was being directed Kenelm’s way by the audience in the arena. At least no one is upset about what Yirella did. It still hurt that she’d not confided in him about her plan for the neutron star. He just couldn’t let go of the notion that it was because of the neurovirus that she no longer entirely trusted him.
Alexandre rose from hir chair in the middle of the dais and motioned for silence. ‘We’ve a lot to get through, and plenty to decide. I’d ask you not to make fast decisions. We can afford to take our time; it will be another year before we can match velocity with the neutron star. So . . . Kenelm, I think it’s appropriate for you to start. Would you like to tell us where you came from originally?’
Kenelm inclined hir head. ‘Thank you for the opportunity—’
‘Traitor,’ someone in the audience yelled.
Dellian thought it sounded a lot like Ovan’s voice.
‘No,’ Alexandre said, raising hir hand in warning. ‘I will not permit that kind of abuse. We have moved on past such intolerance. This council will listen respectfully to Kenelm and Yirella before deciding what our options are.’
‘I apologize for the impression my existence must be generating,’ Kenelm said. ‘But I assure you the purpose my colleagues and I uphold is purely to advance the human interest and help us survive the Olyix. I have never abdicated that responsibility. It is all I exist for.’
‘Can you tell us where you came from, please?’ Alexandre asked.
‘I was born on Kanima, two thousand six hundred years ago. I left on the generation starship Byessel, which founded Falkon. That was where our group was formed at the behest of Soćko and Emilja. They were already concerned by the drift away from original Utopial ideals and the ongoing lack of success by any Strike mission. We were all level-one citizens tasked with keeping the whole exodus project on track. I am proud of the part I have played in that.’
‘You manipulated us?’
‘We guided – admittedly with a disproportionate degree of influence due to our status. Because of that, our society has remained Utopial, which I believe to be a positive achievement. The Utopial ideal is the height of human culture, demonstrating compassion and inclusion for every individual.’
‘How many of you are in this group?’
‘I believe there were about a thousand of us on Falkon,’ Kenelm said. ‘After that, we divided at each generation world. Some would go on Strike missions; the rest would continue our undertaking through generation ships. By the time we reached Juloss, there were fewer than fifty of us. We did, of course, retain our level-one citizenship, which allowed us considerable influence.’
‘And on this mission?’ Cinrea asked.
‘Loneve and I were the last.’
‘So we are free of manipulation?’ Yirella said. ‘This council can make an independent choice?’
‘Of course. That has always been the way. If someone had put up a compelling suggestion to alter the Utopial exodus policies, then a vote in council would have been respected. Out of everyone agitating for change, I always suspected you could
