“Lady Mac is departing this evening,” he said lamely.
“I know.”
“I caught some of the Collins news shows; you’ve done all right for yourself.”
“Yes. Finally, I’m officially more popular than Matthias Rems.” There was humour in her voice, but not her expression.
“There’s a berth if you want it.”
“No thanks, Joshua.” She glanced over at Ione who was chatting to Horst Elwes. “I don’t know what she’s conned you into doing for her, but I don’t want any part of it.”
“It’s only a charter to pick up components which—”
“Fuck off, Joshua. If that’s all there is to it, why offer me a place? And why load Lady Mac full of top-grade combat wasps? You’re heading straight back into trouble, aren’t you?”
“I sincerely hope not.”
“I don’t need it, Joshua. I don’t need the fame, I don’t need the risk. For fuck’s sake, do you know what’s going to happen to you if you die? Didn’t you access any of my recordings?” She almost seemed to be pleading with him.
“Yes, Kelly, I accessed some of them. I know what happens when you die. But you can’t give up hope for something better. You can’t stop living just because you’re frightened. You kept going on Lalonde, despite everything the dead threw at you. And you triumphed.”
“Ha!” She let out a bitter, agonized laugh. “I wouldn’t call that triumph if I were you: thirty kids saved. That’s the most pathetic defeat in history. Even Custer did better than that.”
Joshua gazed at her, trying to understand where his Kelly had vanished. “I’m sorry you feel that way, really I am. I think we did okay at Lalonde, and a lot of other people share that opinion.”
“Then they’re stupid, and they’ll grow out of it. Because everything now is temporary. Everything. When you’re damned to exist for eternity, nothing you experience lasts for long.”
“Quite. That’s what makes living worthwhile.”
“No.” She gave him a fragile smile. “Know what I’m going to do now?”
“What?”
“Join Ashly, he’s got the right idea about how to spend his time. I’m going to take million-year sojourns in zero-tau. I’m going to sleep away the rest of the universe’s existence, Joshua.”
“Jesus, that’s dumb. What’s the point?”
“The point is, you don’t suffer the beyond.”
Joshua grinned the infamous Calvert grin, then ducked forwards to give her a quick kiss. “Thanks, Kelly.”
“What the hell for, bollockbrain?”
“It’s a faith thing. You have to come to it by yourself . . . apparently.”
“If you go on like this, Joshua, you’re going to die young.”
“And leave a beautiful corpse. Yeah, I know. But I’m still flying Ione’s charter.”
Her mournful eyes regarded him with hurt and the old pain of longing. But she knew the gulf was too wide now. They both did.
“I never doubted it.” She kissed him back, so platonic it was almost formal. “Take care.”
“It was fun while it lasted, though, wasn’t it?” he inquired to her retreating back.
Her hand fluttered casually, a dismissive backwards wave.
“Sod it,” he grunted.
“Ah, Joshua, good, I wanted to catch you.”
He turned to face Horst. “Nice service, Father.”
“Why, thank you. I got rather out of practice on Lalonde, nice to see the old art hasn’t deserted me entirely.”
“The children look well.”
“I should hope so, the attention they’re getting. Tranquillity is an extraordinary place for an old arcology dweller like me. You know, the Church really did get it wrong about bitek. It’s a wonderful technology.”
“Another cause, Father?”
Horst chuckled. “I have my hands full, thank you. Speaking of which—” He pulled a small wooden crucifix from his cassock pocket. “I’d like you to take this with you on your voyage. I had it with me the whole time on Lalonde. I’m not sure if it’ll bring you good luck, but I suspect your need is greater than mine.”
Joshua accepted the gift awkwardly, not quite sure whether to put it around his neck or stuff it in a pocket. “Thank you, Father. It’ll come with me.”
“Bon voyage, Joshua. May the Lord look after you. And do try and be good, this time.”
Joshua grinned. “Do my best.”
Horst hurried back to the children.
“Captain Calvert?”
Joshua sucked in a breath. Now what? “You got me.” He was telling it to a gleaming brass breastplate, one with distinctly feminine contours. It belonged to a cosmonik that resembled some steam-age concept of a robot: solid metal bodywork and rubbery flexible joints. Definitely a cosmonik, Joshua determined after a quick survey, not combat boosted, there was too much finesse in the ancillary systems braceleting each of the forearms. This was a worker, not a warrior.
“My name is Beaulieu,” she said. “I was a friend of Warlow’s. If you are looking for a replacement for his post, I would like to be considered.”
“Jesus, you’re as blunt as he was, I’ll give you that. But I don’t think he ever mentioned you.”
“How much of his past did he mention?”
“Yeah, not much.”
“So?”
“I’m sorry?”
“So, do I have the post?” She datavised over her CV file.
The information matrix rotated slowly inside the confines of Joshua’s skull. It competed for space with a sense of indignation that she should do this at Warlow’s own memorial, coupled with a grudging acknowledgement that anyone this forthright probably had what it took, she wouldn’t last long with an attitude that wasn’t solidly backed up with competence.
Running a quick overview check on the file he saw she was seventy-seven years old. “You served with the Confederation Navy?”
“Yes, Captain. Thirty-two years ago; it qualifies me to maintain combat wasps.”
“So I see. The navy issued an arrest warrant for me and Lady Mac at Lalonde.”
“I’m sure they had their reasons. I only serve one captain at a time.”
“Er, right. That’s good.” Joshua could see another three cosmoniks standing in the last pew, waiting to see what the outcome would be. He datavised the cathedral’s net processor block. “Tranquillity?”
“Yes, Joshua.”
“I’ve got three hours before we leave, and I don’t have time for games. Is this Beaulieu on the level?”
“As far as I can ascertain, yes. She has been working in my spaceport for fifteen months, and has had no contact with any foreign agency operatives. Nor does she fraternize with the combat-boosted or the less savoury traders. She stays with her own kind; cosmoniks do tend to stick together. Warlow’s outgoing nature was an exception rather than the rule.”
“Outgoing?” Joshua’s eyebrows shot up.
“Yes. Did you not find him so?”
“Thank you, Tranquillity.”
“My pleasure to assist.”
Joshua cancelled the datavise. “We’re having to fly with one patterning node out until I can find a replacement, and there may be some trouble later on in the charter,” he told Beaulieu. “I can’t give you specifics.”
“That does not concern me. I believe your ability will minimize any threat, Lagrange Calvert.”
“Oh, Jesus. Okay, welcome aboard. You’ve got two hours to collect your gear and get it stowed.”
The docking cradle gently elevated Lady Macbeth upwards out of bay CA 5-099. Several hundred people had accessed the spaceport’s sensors to watch her departure; intelligence agency operatives, curious rumour-gorged space industry crews, news offices recording files for their library in case anything eventful did happen.
Ione saw the Lady Macbeth ’s thermo dump panels slide out of their recesses, a parody of a bird’s wings extending ready for flight. Tiny chemical verniers ignited around the starship’s equator, lifting her smoothly from the cradle.
She used her affinity to receive a montage summary of the tired company engineering teams congratulating each other, traffic control officers coordinating the starship’s vector, Kelly Tirrel alone in her room accessing the spaceport sensor image.