Redemption Ark

The shuttle was tiny and fast. The Triumvir, Ilia Volyova, was snoozing in the other seat, with the peak of a nondescript grey cap tugged down over her brow. It was the shuttle that had brought her down to Resurgam in the first place, before she contacted the Inquisitor. The shuttle’s avionics program knew how to dodge between the government radar sweeps, but it had always seemed prudent to keep such excursions to a minimum. If they were caught, if there was even a suspicion that a spacecraft was routinely entering and leaving Resurgam’s atmosphere, heads would roll at every level of government. Even if Inquisition House was not directly implicated, Khouri’s position would become extremely unsafe. The backgrounds of key government personnel would be subjected to a deep and probing scrutiny. Despite her precautions, her origins might be revealed.

The stealthy ascent had necessitated a shallow acceleration profile, but once it was clear of atmosphere and outside the effective range of the radar sweeps the shuttle’s engines revved up to three gees, pressing the two of them back into their seats. Khouri began to feel drowsy and realised, just as she slid into sleep, that the shuttle was pumping a perfumed narcotic into the air. She slept dreamlessly, and awoke with the same mild sense of objection.

They were somewhere else.

‘How long were we under?’ she asked Volyova, who was smoking.

‘Just under a day. I hope that alibi you cooked up was good, Ana; you’re going to need it when you get back to Cuvier.’

‘I said I had to go into the wilderness to interview a deep-cover agent. Don’t worry; I established the background for this a long time ago. I always knew I might have to be away for a while.’ Khouri undid her seat restraints — the shuttle was no longer accelerating — and attempted to scratch an itch somewhere near the small of her back. ‘Any chance of a shower, whenever we get where we’re going?’

‘That depends. Where exactly do you think we’re headed?’

‘Let’s just say I have a horrible feeling I’ve already been there.’

Volyova stubbed out her cigarette and made the front of the hull turn glassy. They were in deep interplanetary space, still in the ecliptic, but good light-minutes from any world, yet something was blocking the view of the starfield ahead of them.

‘There she is, Ana. The good ship Nostalgia for Infinity. Still very much as you left her.’

‘Thanks. Any other cheering sentiments, while you’re at it?’

‘The last time I checked the showers were out of order.’

‘The last time you checked?’

Volyova paused and made a clucking sound with her tongue. ‘Buckle up. I’m taking us in.’

They swooped in close to the dark misshapen mass of the lighthugger. Khouri remembered her first approach to this same ship, back when she had been tricked aboard it in the Epsilon Eridani system. It had looked just about normal then, about what one would expect of a large, moderately old trade lighthugger. There had been a distinct absence of odd excrescences and protuberances, a marked lack of daggerlike jutting appendages or elbowed turretlike growths. The hull had been more or less smooth — worn and weathered here and there, interrupted by machines, sensor-pods and entry bays in other places — but there had been nothing about it that would have invited particular comment or disquiet. There had been no acres of lizardskin texturing or dried-mudplain expanses of interlocked platelets; no suggestion that buried biological imperatives had finally erupted to the surface in an orgy of biomechanical transformation.