The hold smelled familiar, though it looked oddly spacious with no shuttle in it. There was nobody about. He went up the stairs from the hold to the accommodation section. He walked along the corridor towards the mess, wondering who was alive, who was dead, what changes had been made, if any. It had only been three days, but he felt as though he had been away for years. He was almost at Yalson's cabin when the door was quickly pulled open.
Yalson's fair-haired head came out, an expression of surprise, even joy, starting to form on it. «Haw-» she said, then stopped, frowned at him, shook her head and muttered something, ducking back into her cabin. Horza had stopped.
He stood there, thinking he was glad she was alive, realising he hadn't been walking properly — not like Kraiklyn. His tread had sounded like his own instead. A hand appeared from Yalson's door as she pulled on a light robe, then she came out and stood in the corridor, looking at the man she thought was Kraiklyn, her hands on her hips. Her lean, hard face looked slightly concerned, but mostly wary. Horza hid his hand with the missing finger behind his back.
"What the hell happened to you?" she said.
"I got in a fight. What does it look like?" He got the voice right. They stood looking at each other.
"If you want any help-" she began. Horza shook his head.
"I'll manage."
Yalson nodded, half smiling, looking him up and down. "Yeah, all right. You manage, then." She jerked a thumb over her shoulder, in the direction of the mess. "Your new recruit just brought her gear aboard. She's waiting in the mess, though if you look in now she might not think it's such a wonderful idea to join up."
Horza nodded. Yalson shrugged, then turned and walked up the corridor, through the mess towards the bridge. Horza followed her. "Our glorious captain," she said to somebody in the room as she went through. Horza hesitated at Kraiklyn's cabin door, then went forward to stick his head round the door of the mess.
A woman was sitting at the far end of the mess table, her legs crossed over a chair in front of her. The screen was switched on above her as though she had been watching it; it showed a view of a Megaship being lifted bodily out of the water by hundreds of small lifter tugs clustered under and around it. They were recognisably antique Culture machines. The woman had turned from the sight, though, and was gazing towards Horza when he looked round the side of the door.
She was slim and tall and pale. She looked fit, and her black-coloured eyes were set in a face just starting to show worried surprise at the battered face looking at her from the doorway. She had on a light suit, the helmet of which lay on the table in front of her. A red bandanna was tied round her head, below the level of her close-cropped red hair. "Oh, Captain Kraiklyn," she said, swinging her feet off the seat and leaning forward, her face showing shock and pity. "What happened?"
Horza tried to speak, but his throat was dry. He couldn't believe what he saw. His lips worked and he licked them with a dry tongue. The woman started to rise from the table, but he put out one hand and gestured her to stay where she was. She sat slowly back down, and he managed to say, "I'm all right. See you later. Just… just stay… there." Then he pushed himself away from the door and stumbled down the corridor to Kraiklyn's cabin. The ring fitted into the door, and it swung open. He almost fell inside.
In something like a trance he closed the door, stood there looking at the far bulkhead for a while, then slowly sat down, on the floor.
He knew he was still stunned, he knew his vision was still blurred and he wasn't hearing perfectly. He knew it was unlikely — or, if it wasn't, then it was very bad news indeed, but he was sure; absolutely certain. As certain as he had been about Kraiklyn when he first walked up that ramp to the Damage table, into the arena.
As though he hadn't had enough shocks for one evening, the sight of the woman sitting at the mess-room table had all but silenced him and stopped his mind from working. What was he going to do? He couldn't think. The shock was still resounding through his mind; the image seemed stuck behind his eyes.
The woman in the mess room was Perosteck Balveda.
8. The Ends of Invention
Maybe she's a clone, Horza thought. Maybe it's coincidence. He sat on the floor of Kraiklyn's cabin — his cabin now — staring at the locker doors in the far wall; aware that he needed to do something, but not sure what it ought to be. His brain wasn't able to take all the knocks and shocks it had had. He needed to sit and think for a moment.
He tried telling himself he was mistaken, that it wasn't really her, that he was tired and confused and getting paranoid, seeing things. But he knew it was Balveda, though sufficiently altered so that probably only a close friend or a Changer could possibly recognise her, but definitely her, alive and well and probably armed to the teeth…
He got up, mechanically, still staring straight ahead. He took off the wet clothes and went out of the cabin, down to the wash area, where he left the clothes to dry and cleaned himself up. Back in the cabin he found a robe and put it on. He started inspecting the small, packed space and finally came across a small voice recorder. He flicked it back and listened.
"… ahhh… including, ahh, Yalson," Kraiklyn's voice said from the small speaker in the machine, "who I guess was, umm… in her relationship, with ahh… Horza Gobuchul. She's… been pretty abrupt, and I don't think I've had the support from her… which she… which I ought to get… I'll have a word with her if it goes on, but, ahhh… for now, during the repairs and such… there doesn't seem much point… I'm not putting off… ah… I just think we'll see how she shapes up after the Orbital's blown and we're on our way.
"Ahh… now this new woman… Gravant… she's all right. I get the impression she might… ah, need… need a bit of ordering around… seems to need discipline… I don't think she'll have, ah, too much conflict with anybody. Yalson, especially, I was worried about, but I don't think… ah, I think it'll be fine. But you can never tell with women, ah… of course, so… but I like her… I think she's got class and maybe… I don't know… maybe she could make a good number two if she shapes up.
"I really need more people… Umm… things haven't gone all that well recently, but I think I've been… they've let me down. Jandraligeli, obviously… and I don't know; I'll see if maybe I can do something about him because… he's really sort of just been… ahh… he's betrayed me; that's the way… that's what it is I think; anybody would agree. So maybe I'll have a word with Ghalssel, at the game, assuming he arrives… I don't think the guy's really up to standard and I'll tell Ghalssel as much because we're both… in the same, ah… business, and I'm… I know that he'll have heard… well, he'll listen to what I have to say, because he knows about the responsibilities of leadership and… just, ah… the way I do.
"Anyway… I'll do some more recruiting after the game, and after the GSV takes off there'll be some time… we have enough time still to run in this bay and I'll put the word out. There's bound to be… a lot of people ready to sign on… Ah, oh yeah; mustn't forget about the shuttle tomorrow. I'm sure I can get the price down. Ah, I could just win at the game, of course-" The small voice from the speaker laughed: a tinny echo."… and just be incredibly rich and-" The laughter came again, distorted."… and not give a fuck about any of this crap any more… shit, just… ha… give the CAT away… well, sell it… and retire… But we'll see…"
The voice faded. Horza switched off the machine in the silence. He put it down where he had found it, and rubbed the ring on the small finger of his right hand. Then he took off the robe and put his — his — suit on. It started talking to him; he told it to turn its voice off.