Redemption Ark

‘There have been worse tyrants than you, Mr Clavain, trust me on that. But the point I make is merely this. These times have driven you to do the unthinkable. You have turned against the Conjoiners after four hundred years. Not because you believe the Demarchists are right, but because you sensed how your own side had become poisoned. And you realised, without perhaps seeing it clearly yourself, that what lies at stake is bigger than any faction, bigger than any ideology. It is the continued existence of the human species.’

‘How would you know?’ Clavain asked.

‘Because of what you have already told your friends, Mr Clavain. You were voluble enough in Carousel New Copenhagen, when you imagined no one else could be listening. But I have ears everywhere. And I can trawl memories, like your own people. You have all passed through my infirmary. Do you imagine I wouldn’t stoop to a little neural eavesdropping when so much is at stake? Of course I would.’

He turned to Scorpio again, the force of his attention making the pig edge even further back into his seat. ‘Here is what is going to happen. I am going to do what I can to help Mr Clavain complete his assignment.’

‘To defect?’ Scorpio asked.

‘No,’ H said, shaking his head. ‘What would be the good of that? The Demarchists don’t even have a single remaining starship, not in this system. Mr Clavain’s gesture would be wasted. Worse than that, once he’s back in Demarchist hands I doubt even my influence would be able to free him again. No. We need to think beyond that to the issue itself, to why Mr Clavain was defecting in the first place.’ He nodded at Clavain, like a prompter. ‘Go on, tell us. It’ll be good to hear it from your lips, after all that I’ve said.’

‘You know, don’t you?’

‘About the weapons? Yes.’

Clavain nodded. He did not know whether to feel defeated or victorious. There was nothing to do but talk. ‘I wanted to persuade the Demarchists to put together an operation to recover the hell-class weapons before Skade can get her hands on them. But H is right: they don’t even have a starship. It was a folly, a futile gesture to make me feel that I was doing something.’ He felt long-postponed weariness slide over him, casting a dark shadow of dejection. ‘That’s all it ever was. One old man’s stupid final gesture.’ He looked around at the other guests, feeling as if he owed them some kind of apology. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve dragged you all into this, and it was for nothing.’

H moved behind the chair and placed two hands on Clavain’s shoulders. ‘Don’t be so sorry, Mr Clavain.’

‘It’s true, isn’t it? There’s nothing we can do.’

‘You spoke to the Demarchists,’ H said. ‘What did they say when you broached the topic of a ship?’

Clavain recalled his conversation with Perotet and Voi. ‘They told me they didn’t have one.’

‘And?’

Clavain laughed humourlessly. ‘That they could get their hands on one if they really needed to.’

‘And they probably could,’ H said. ‘But what would it gain you? They’re weak and exhausted, corrupt and battle-weary. Let them find a ship — I won’t stop them. After all, it doesn’t matter who recovers those weapons, so long as it isn’t the Conjoiners. I just think someone else might stand a slightly better chance of actually succeeding. Especially someone who has access to some of the same technology that your side now possesses.’

‘And who would that be?’ Antoinette asked, but she must have already had an inkling.

Clavain looked at his host. ‘But you don’t have a ship either.’

‘No,’ H said, ‘I don’t. But like the Demarchists I might know where to find one. There are enough Ultra ships in this system that it would not be impossible to steal one, if we had the necessary will. As a matter of fact, I have already drawn up contingency plans for the taking of a lighthugger, should the need ever arise.’

‘You’d need a small army to take one of their ships,’ Clavain said.

‘Yes,’ H said, as if this was the first time it had occurred to him. ‘Yes, I probably would.’ Then he turned to the pig. ‘Wouldn’t I, Scorpio?’

Scorpio listened carefully to what H had to say concerning the delicate matter of stealing a lighthugger. The audacity of the act he was proposing was astounding, but, as H pointed out, the army of pigs had performed audacious crimes before, if not on quite so great a scale. They had taken control of entire zones of the Mulch, usurping power from what was still laughingly called the authorities. They had made a mockery of the Ferrisville Convention’s attempts to extend martial law into the darkest niches of the city, and by way of reply the pigs and their allies had established lawless enclaves throughout the Rust Belt. These bubbles of controlled criminality had simply been edited off the map, treated as if they had never been reclaimed after the Melding Plague. But that did not make them any less real or negate the fact that they were often more harmonious environments than the habitats under full and legal Ferrisvillle administration.