The tentacle was touching the cabinet where Salome lived. No, had passed through the door. For a moment a faint echo of confusion touched her mind. Then nothing. The boojum suddenly wasn’t there any more. Kara opened the locker and saw the sphere that held Salome now lying in a corner, its surface blackened. It was warm to her touch. Kara picked it up, walked back to the airlock and threw Salome into netherspace. Somewhere out there was a very confused boojum that had melded with a psychotic AI. She closed both doors manually, leaving the Cedrics inside the airlock, and once more limped back to the control room, wondering why her bloody footprints petered out halfway. Because you’ve stopped bleeding, dummy, she thought. Now to get the hell out. Greenaway better be right that I know how because I do not want to spend the rest of my life here.
She sat at the console, feeling stupid. She had the simulity training, but had never flown in or out of netherspace.
< S’okay, Kara. I got this.
> Ishmael? Ishmael!
< The same. Going into normal space now.
The hull became transparent again. There was the blessed, intense blackness of space with faint, tiny dots of light. Stars. Her reality, the only one she wanted.
> Where were you?
< Salome had me trapped. It’s the math, you see. Infinity sets. Well, everything is mathematics. You want me to explain?
> Would I understand?
< You wouldn’t even try. I knew what was happening, couldn’t do anything about it.
> I need a joss and a drink.
< Getting bit reliant are we?
> It’s what I do. Drink and get high. Think about the battle. Learn new things.
< Did you mean what you said about Salome not having a human?
> Makes sense to me. Humans and AIs make each other special. Without you I’d be dumb, without me you’d be a computer.
< Only dumb?
> And a bit lonely.
< Thanks. Kara.
She had the auto-doc sort out her thigh. Left Marc in the auto-doc to have his chest sorted. Then got an antique malt from the rec room, went to her cabin and lit up a mild opium joss micro-dosed with a Wild-produced hallucinogen. She needed good dreams.
> Where are we?
< Two Earth hours from the Gliese homeworld via netherspace. Three thousand years at ninety-nine per cent the standard speed of light, which we can’t do anyway, let alone the higher iterations.
> Go n-space. Into orbit when we’re there. Lock down the ship. Marc does not go outside. Any boojums come by you leave n-space at once.
< Okay boss.
> Boojum’s the wrong name for them. Too cuddly. Think of another.
Tiredness covered her like a warm blanket. She slept and dreamed of a home she’d never had.
A gentle ringing announced a visitor. Kara sat up bleary-eyed as Marc walked into her cabin. He had a faint scar over his heart. The auto-doc had done a good job.
“You stabbed me.” He sounded more surprised than annoyed.
“Not you,” she yawned. “Pablo. Your AI. It was keeping you in a state of drool.”
“I’d have survived netherspace.”
She noticed that his eyes were only lightly glowing. The effect was almost attractive. Almost. “Would I?”
He thought for a moment. “Probably not.”
Kara put aside her annoyance and explained they’d have been stuck there.
Marc shook his head. “I could get back to Earth. It’s the connection I made in Scotland with the elemental. Like a beacon, maybe.”
She remembered a comatose man in a wine cellar. Perhaps it wasn’t only that elemental somehow calling Marc home – and did he just pop into the world? Or was it a slow process, first an arm or a leg to be followed by the rest of him? Maybe some pretty good wine was also involved. Kara realised she was being silly.
“And I’d come with you?” she asked, Then, as the last few hours got the better of her, “You don’t really need us, me, this bloody ship, do you?”
“I gave my word, Kara. See this through then I’m away. Now can you please explain what the hell happened. All I know is that suddenly you’re telling me that Salome’s bad, we’re in the airlock, there’s a boojum coming inside and bad pain in my chest. Then it went black. Until a moment ago.”
Kara yawned. “I need another hour of sleep.” More like a week.
When she woke the second time they were in orbit around the Gliese homeworld with the two suns, the last place she’d seen Tatia. Always assuming a semi-sentient vegetable race possibly bred to serve would have a homeworld. Maybe better to think of it as a plant nursery. Or a garden centre without gnomes. Kara spent a long time in the shower until Ishmael told her there was a water limit per person per day and at this rate there wouldn’t be enough for Marc. So she stayed in the shower for another ten minutes because, really, fuck Marc and his netherspace obsession. Not even a thank you for maybe saving his life a second time.
“I suppose I should thank you,” Marc said.
They were sat in the rec room, Kara with another egg and bacon sandwich plus strong tea, Marc sipping at a double espresso.
“Only if you mean it.” She belched delicately. “Let’s not kid ourselves.”
“Look. I know I get obsessed with netherspace...”
“Get? You are Mister bloody netherspace!” Her tone softened. “And there’s no going back, is there? Even if you wanted. Which you don’t.”
He shook his head. “Doesn’t mean you’re not important to me. Tatia as well. I did give my word, and I’m sticking to it. So, what happened?”
Kara explained how she’d
