Redemption Ark

‘Skade died, didn’t she? I killed her, in interstellar space. The other elements of her fleet were acting autonomously, even when we engaged them.’

‘Everything was autonomous,’ Felka said, with curious evasion.

Clavain watched a macaw orbit from tree to tree. ‘I don’t mind being consulted on strategic matters, but I’m not seeking a position of authority on this ship. It isn’t mine, for a start, no matter what Volyova might have thought. I’m too old to take command. And besides, what would the ship need with me anyway? It already has its own Captain.’

Felka’s voice was low. ‘So you remember the Captain?’

‘I remember what Volyova told us. I don’t remember ever talking with the Captain himself. Is he still running things, the way she said he would?’

Her voice remained guarded. ‘Depends what you mean by running things. His infrastructure is still intact, but there’s been no sign of him as a conscious entity since we left Delta Pavonis.’

‘Then the Captain’s dead, is that it?’

‘No, that can’t be it either. He had fingers in too many aspects of routine shipwide functioning, so Volyova said. When he used to go into one of his catatonic states, it was like pulling the plug on the entire ship. That hasn’t happened. The ship’s still taking care of itself, keeping itself ticking over, indulging in self-repair and the occasional upgrade.’

Clavain nodded. ‘Then it’s as if the Captain’s still functioning on an involuntary level, but there’s no sentience there any more? Like a patient who still has enough brain function to breathe, but not much else?’

‘That’s our best guess. But we can’t be totally sure. Sometimes there are little glimmers of intelligence, things that the ship does to itself without asking anyone. Flashes of creativity. It’s more as if the Captain’s still there, but buried more deeply than was ever the case before.’

‘Or perhaps he just left behind a ghost of himself,’ Clavain said. ‘A mindless shell, pottering through the same behavioural patterns.’

‘Whatever it was, he redeemed himself,’ Felka said. ‘He did something terrible, but in the end he also saved one hundred and sixty thousand lives.’

‘So did Lyle Merrick,’ Clavain said, remembering for the first time since he had awakened the secret within Antoinette’s ship and the necessary sacrifice the man had made. ‘Two redemptions for the price of one? I suppose it’s a start.’ Clavain picked at a stray splinter of wood that had embedded itself in his palm, torn from the very edge of the tree stump. ‘So what did happen, Felka? Why have I been awakened when everyone knew it might kill me?’

‘I’ll show you,’ she said. She looked in the direction of the waterfall. Startled, for he had been certain that they were alone, Clavain saw a figure standing on the very edge of the lake immediately before the waterfall. The mist ebbed and swirled around the figure’s extremities.

But he recognised her.

‘Skade,’ he said.

‘Clavain,’ she answered. But she did not step closer. Her voice had been hollow, the acoustics all wrong for the environment. Clavain realised, with a jolt of irritation at how easily he had been fooled, that he was being addressed by a simulation.

‘She’s a beta-level, isn’t she,’ he said, talking only to Felka. ‘The Master of Works would have retained a good enough working memory of Skade to put a beta-level aboard any of the other ships.’

‘She’s a beta-level, yes,’ Felka said. ‘But that isn’t how it happened. Is it, Skade?’

The figure was crested and armoured. It nodded. ‘This beta-level is a recent version, Clavain. My physical counterpart transmitted it to you during the engagement.’

‘Sorry,’ Clavain said, shaking his head, ‘my memory may not be what it was, but I remember killing your counterpart. I destroyed Nightshade shortly after I rescued Felka.’

‘That’s what you remember. It’s almost what happened, too.’

‘You can’t have survived, Skade.’ He said it with numb insistence, despite the evidence of his eyes.

I saved my head, Clavain. I feared that you would destroy Nightshade once I gave you back Felka, even though I didn’t think you would have the courage to do it when you knew I had Galiana aboard…‘ She smiled, her expression strangely close to admiration. ’I was wrong about that, wasn’t I? You were a far more ruthless adversary than I had ever imagined, even after you did this to me.‘

‘You had Galiana’s body, not Galiana.’ Clavain held his voice steady. ‘All I did was give her the peace she should have had when she died all those years ago.’

‘But you don’t really believe that, do you? You always knew she was not really dead, but merely in a state of deadlock with the Wolf.’

‘That was as good as death.’

‘But there was always the chance the Wolf could be removed, Clavain…’ Her voice became soft. ‘You believed that, too. You believed there was a chance you could have her back one day.’

‘I did what I had to do,’ he said.

‘It was ruthlessness, Clavain. I admire you for it. You’re more of a spider than any of us.’