Surface Detail

She got into the channel and almost collided with Hino, who was being pursued by two of the others. They both manoeuvred to avoid hitting each other. He sat up when he saw it was her and was struck in the face by a clod of earth with some broken reed stems still attached. Hino nearly fell off his board, which curved back round, blocking Lededje’s course. She’d never get past him now. She started to pull up, using both hands to slow herself as the front of her craft slid in towards Hino.

Oh, she thought. She hoped the shell she’d found didn’t blow up when her ship hit Hino’s. It didn’t. Phew, she thought.

Hino wiped the mud off his face and glared past her at Purdil. Led felt Purdil’s craft smack into the back of her own just as Hino reached out to the little lumpen nest of mud she’d put the shell in, at the bows of her ship. She saw him pick up the muddy shell and throw it in one quick movement.

Lededje had time to draw breath.

The shell tore past her, half a metre away.

The explosion seemed to slap her once, right across the back. It made her head ring. Sound seemed to go away. She was still looking forward at Hino and raising her hand to try to say, No!

She felt the ringing noise everywhere in her body. She saw Hino’s face go pale as fast as clicking your fingers. The two other kids behind him wore the same expression. It was those expressions she would never forget; they were worse than what she saw when she looked round. Their faces; the three of them, staring, open-mouthed, eyes wider than she thought eyes could go, all blood draining from the faces.

She pushed herself up and turned to look behind her. It seemed to take a long time to do this. She looked away from Hino and the other two children, away from the channel behind and the setting sun and the reed beds stretching alongside. As she turned she saw the low hill of the miniature island forming one bank of the channel; above was the arch and spire of a sky canal and a tower above that.

She glimpsed something red. What was left of Purdil was still just about sitting on his plastic board. Most of his head had gone, though she only had a little while to see this as he fell forward and crashed down, part onto his board and part into the water.

It was only then that they all started screaming.

“No backing up, then?”

“Of course not. We don’t do that; we can’t do that. We’re not you.”

Lededje frowned at Demeisen. The second or third most traumatic thing in her life and the ship’s avatar seemed almost unconcerned.

“So,” Demeisen said, “properly dead.”

“Yes. Properly dead.”

“What happened to Hino?”

“We never saw him again. He was taken to the city for the police investigation and then had intensive post-traumatic counselling. His-”

“Why? What did the police do to him?”

“What? Nothing! There had to be a formal investigation, that’s all. Of course they didn’t do anything to him! What do you think we are?” Lededje shook her head. “The post-traumatic counselling was because he’d thrown what he thought was a rock and blown a kid’s head off.”

“Ah, right. I see.”

“Hino’s father was a consulting landscaper who was only due to be on the estate until the end of that year anyway, so by the time he was fit to be seen in polite company again Hino was on the other side of the world while his dad sorted out some other rich man’s problematic mansion sight-lines.”

“Hmm.” Demeisen nodded, looked thoughtful. “I didn’t realise you had foametal.”

Lededje glared at him, eyes narrowed. “I can’t believe that hasn’t come up before,” she said through gritted teeth. “What was I thinking of? I ran away the next morning and nearly died of exposure, thanks for asking.”

“You did?” The avatar looked surprised. “Why didn’t you mention that?”

“I was coming to it,” Lededje said icily.

They were sitting in the outer two of the little shuttle craft’s pilot seats, their feet up on the seat in the middle. The Falling Outside The Normal Moral Constraints was just about to enter Enablement space and Lededje had thought to tell a little more of her life story to the ship as she came back to the place she had been born and brought up.

Demeisen nodded. “I’m sorry,” he said. “That was insensitive of me. Of course it must have been traumatic for you as well, and the other two children, not to mention the various parents involved. Were you punished, either for being in the battle area or for your part in providing the unexploded shell or for running away?”

Lededje let out a breath. “All of the above,” she said. She was silent for a moment. Eventually she said, “I don’t think Veppers was very happy about having his big triumphant homecoming spoiled by a runaway brat and a security kerfuffle over his toy battleships.”

“Well,” Demeisen said, then paused in a most un-Demeisen-like manner.

“What?” Lededje asked.