‘By all means.’
‘Chiku’s recording was edited. Does a complete record of her statement exist anywhere?’
‘That recording is all that we have. The regret is ours – we could have made much use of her wisdom. Are you troubled by the recording?’
‘No,’ Kanu answered, with as much conviction as he could manage, although he shared Nissa’s doubts about the recording’s integrity.
‘Then Memphis will take you to the White House. I think one of you will find yourself on very familiar ground.’
When at last the household came into view – within another chamber a few kilometres beyond the point where they had been detained – Kanu’s first impression was that his memories were playing an odd and unsettling game with him. He had been here before and already come to know this place – but that was quite impossible.
The vehicle was descending a steeply sloping path flanked by woodland, at the base of which lay an extensive area of flattened ground set with lakes and copses of trees. The trees thickened in the middle, enclosing a blue and white building whose outline – glimpsed from the path’s descending elevation – was at once familiar and estranging.
‘We were here,’ Nissa said, and he knew he was not going mad. ‘You showed me this place once. But that was in Africa!’
‘On the old border between Kenya and Tanzania,’ Kanu said, understanding coming to him in waves. ‘It’s where the old Akinya household used to be – the base of operations for the whole commercial empire, five or six hundred years ago. This is what it used to be like, before it became a ruin!’
‘I don’t understand how it can be here.’
‘It’s a copy, not the same building. It must be my family’s thumbprint on the holoship project – their way of reminding everyone what they’d made possible.’
‘As if anyone needed to be told.’
‘It looks in good repair,’ he said, raising a flattened palm over his eyes to shade out the ceiling lights. ‘Good as new. Given all the troubles aboard
Zanzibar
, I’m amazed it looks as fresh as it does.’
‘Someone thought it was worth taking care of, I suppose.’
The vehicle picked its way through the thicket of trees surrounding the household, following a path that was either one of the original roads or had simply been cleared by the continuous passage of elephants. The vehicle rolled up in front of the house and Memphis dropped the ramp.
Two Risen were waiting to escort them into the household. The front entrance was easily tall and wide enough to accommodate them, although Kanu could not say how accurately it now reflected the architecture in Africa. If it had been modified, it had been done so neatly, with an eye to preserving the elegance of the original frontage. Beyond, lit by glass ceiling lights, was a wide, airy corridor which formed the cross member of the building’s A-shaped profile. Again, it was comfortably large enough to accommodate two elephants and their human guests, but not all the connecting halls and rooms were as generously proportioned.
‘You will stay in these rooms,’ one of the Risen declared, gesturing at a set of doors with a swish of its trunk. ‘You will have water and food. If you need more water and food, you will ask. If there is anything broken in the rooms, you will say.’
‘Thank you,’ Kanu said.
‘Was that a series of orders or just very stilted Swahili?’ Nissa asked in a semi-whisper.
‘I’m going to be optimistic and assume the latter.’
Finding the doors already unlocked, they entered the suite. Within, they discovered that the rooms were connected in such a way that they did not need to go back out into the hall to move from room to room.
The rooms contained clean furniture, bedding, toilets and washing facilities. Kanu ran a gloved finger along a surface and inspected it for dust, hoping to gain some idea of when these chambers had last been occupied, but there was no sign of neglect.
They searched and found hot water, a cooking device and a refrigerated store of basic foodstuffs. Kanu was doubtful of the long-term nutritional value of some items, but there was clearly enough to keep them alive for the time being.
‘We will come for you tomorrow,’ the Risen said when Kanu and Nissa returned to the hall.
‘Can we leave the property?’ Kanu asked.
‘You will stay in these rooms. You will not leave. If you need us, you will make a noise.’ The Risen gestured at a metal staff, similar to the one Memphis had used to alert Dakota, leaning next to one of the doors.
‘Are we prisoners here?’ Nissa said.
‘You will not leave.’
‘That’s clear enough,’ Kanu said.
When the Risen had gone, they removed their outer spacesuit layers and set the pieces down on one of the several beds. It was a relief to be out of the suits, able to move freely – and to wash, and feel fresh again – but Kanu had never felt more nakedly vulnerable in his life. For all that it might have been illusory, the suit had at least given him a sense of armour, a shell that would offer some protection against the brute force of the Risen.
‘What have we blundered into?’ he wondered aloud.
‘You’re the diplomat – you tell me.’
‘You’re no help. Dakota’s shown no ill intentions towards us and we could easily have left when we went outside to fetch
Icebreaker
. So why do I feel like we’ve just made a tremendous mistake?’
‘Maybe we have.’
Exhausted, Kanu sat down at a table and cradled his hairless head in his hands. Nissa moved to a bedside console and made one of the walls start cycling through panoramic views, rich and detailed enough that Kanu felt he could have stepped into any one of them. A sunset savannah, a rainbowed waterfall that he nearly recognised, some boys playing football on a beach. He watched the boys wistfully, thinking how delightful it would be to have no cares beyond the kicking of a ball.
‘We fix the ship. Then we leave. There’s no reason for Dakota to prevent that, provided we help with the sleepers.’
‘What is she to them?’ Nissa asked. ‘A matriarch, or something more? What keeps her at the top of the heap?’
Now there was kora music floating gently through the rooms.
‘I don’t know – respect for her age and wisdom? Does it have to be more than that?’
‘She’s not just an elephant, though.’
‘I think the magnifying glass was a giveaway. That and the ability to read and talk.’
‘I do the sarcasm around here, Kanu. What I mean is she’s more than just an exceptionally bright elephant. Where did that human-level intellect come from? What did you do to them?’
‘Me, personally? Nothing at all!’
‘But you know what happened, and it was something to do with your family.’
‘“My” family now, is it?’ Kanu asked irritatedly. ‘You were happy enough to marry into it.’
Despite his provocation Nissa kept her cool. ‘You know what I meant.’
Kanu nodded, ashamed at himself for overreacting. He softened his tone. ‘I’m sorry – that wasn’t warranted. The truth is, I don’t really know what went on with the elephants. Human genes must have been involved, or the expression of dormant gene sequences in the elephant genome which could be used to shape human neurological structures – like throwing a big bank of switches, turning things on and off. The genetic engineers made them small, to begin with – something about phyletic dwarfism. The smart elephants only came later, but they were probably an outgrowth of the same experimental programme. Which wasn’t strictly an Akinya programme, incidentally – we only helped it along.’
‘That doesn’t absolve you of responsibility.’
‘I know.’
She sat on a bed, tucked her legs underneath her and rasped a hand over her scalp. ‘I’m not really blaming you for this – not
you
personally, anyway. Maybe your ancestors. But I’d still like to know what she is. If we could dissect her brain, what would it look like – an elephant with some human attributes, or the other way around? And if she was already different when she left Crucible, what other changes did the Watchkeepers make? What use could an elephant be to an alien civilisation?’
Kanu rose from the table and found a glass. He tried the local water, which came out of a spigot. It tasted strange, but then water always tasted odd when you were away from home. If there were microorganisms in it, he was going to have to get used to them sooner or later.
‘They’ve always wanted something,’ he said. ‘From the moment they declared the Covenant and took Chiku, Eunice and Dakota into space. We know from the recording that they brought them here directly, no stops along the way – this system was the sole point of the whole exercise. The Watchkeepers wanted something from the Trinity, but Chiku wouldn’t say what it was.’
‘You mean, every time she got close to talking about the Watchkeepers, someone cut the recording.’
‘Yes,’ Kanu admitted. ‘But not Chiku – she wouldn’t have withheld useful information.’
‘You think very highly of her.’
‘I know what she went through. The pressure on her, bringing
Zanzibar
to Crucible. It should have broken her soul. But I think it made her stronger than any of us.’
‘And you’re not just saying that because she’s your half-mother, or one-third-mother, or whatever it is?’
‘No,’ Kanu said, after a moment’s reflection. ‘I don’t think I am.’
‘The strange thing is, I agree with you.’
‘You never knew her.’
‘But I saw the recording, saw the strength in that woman – the acceptance of sacrifice. Either she was a good actor, or she was completely prepared to give up her life for the elephants. I think I know which it was.’
‘Chiku wouldn’t have withheld the truth.’
‘But someone got to her recording.’
‘Might I add a thought or two?’ Swift was suddenly there, leaning against a doorframe, taking a bite out of an imaginary apple. ‘Let us be charitable and not assume the worst of our hosts. Are these surroundings not to your tastes?’
‘I don’t remember having much of a choice about them,’ Nissa said.
‘I believe the elephants are doing their best to make you feel at home. Any awkwardness on their part may be reliably ascribed to their shortcomings with regard to Swahili. Goodness knows I’ve had my share of difficulties with it. Why couldn’t you humans agree to speak something logical and straightforward like Mandarin?’
‘Are you finished, Swift?’ Kanu asked.
‘Very nearly. Might I be so bold as to add one request? A suggestion, rather. Clearly we will have to return to the skipover vault if we are to be of assistance to those sleepers. At some point, without arousing suspicion, I should very much welcome another chance to view that recording.’
‘I’ll do my best to arrange that,’ Kanu said.
‘Good. And when the opportunity does arise, Kanu, could you endeavour to blink as infrequently as possible?’
Sadalmelik had fallen over onto his side, crushing one of the tubular sculptures in the process. He was so motionless that at first glance Goma thought he was dead. But he was still breathing, albeit with a slow, laboured rhythm, and as she watched, the tip of his trunk tried to lift itself from the ground.
‘No,’ Ru said, rushing past Goma.
Goma joined her at the fallen creature’s side. Eldasich and Achernar flanked her, still on their feet, but it only took a glance to confirm that they were also ailing – their breathing heavy, their eyes red and weeping with a white suppuration. A similar whiteness spilled from the sides of their mouths.
‘Fetch her,’ Ru said, kneeling to place a hand on Sadalmelik.
‘What is it?’
‘I don’t know. Something fast – they’d have raised a warning otherwise. What are you waiting for? Go!’
Goma went. She raced back up the corridor to the camp’s human accommodation. Eunice was where she had left her – seated at her table, discussing arrangements with Vasin.
Goma was breathless. She had to fight to get the words out.
‘You have to come.’
‘What’s the matter?’
‘I don’t know. Something’s wrong with Sadalmelik. The others don’t look good, either.’
Eunice was already rising from her table. ‘He’s sick?’
‘It looks pretty bad. You’d better hurry.’
Eunice went to a cabinet and pulled out a green toolkit. ‘Excuse us, Captain.’
‘No, I’m coming with you. What can it be – an infection? Something we’ve brought with us?’
‘I don’t know. These Tantors have never had contact with anyone other than myself so their immunological response may not be particularly strong. But their ancestors moved freely on
Zanzibar
in close association with hundreds and thousands of human beings. Nothing should hit them this hard. Have you had any contagious diseases on Crucible since
Zanzibar
’s departure?’
‘Nothing that should hurt them,’ Goma said. ‘Our own elephant populations have never been affected by anything serious.’ A sudden black despair washed over her. ‘Oh, god. What’s happened? What have we done?’
‘Let’s not assume the worst,’ Eunice said. ‘Sadalmelik had an infected tooth once – it looked very bad at the time, but he recovered.’
‘I’m worried about the other two.’
‘Where is Ru?’
‘Still there. Can I carry anything?’
Eunice hefted the green box. ‘These are my medicines. I seldom get ill, and nor do they. If we need anything more potent, it’ll have to come from your ship, and pray that it works on elephants. But first we need to know what we’re dealing with.’
‘We should act pre-emptively,’ Vasin said. ‘There are portable medical supplies on the lander, some analysis equipment. Saturnin – do you think you could get back there with a tool sled? The ship will open to any one of us, provided it recognises our suits.’
‘There’s a chance I might be more useful here,’ Dr Nhamedjo said. ‘That said, if I suit up and leave immediately, I should be able to get back within half an hour.’
Vasin nodded her assent. ‘Eunice – will your locks allow him to come and go, even if you’re down with the Tantors?’
‘I’ll make sure they do. Grab a sled and load up as much as you can – antibiotics, antivirals, anything you have. Are you comfortable going out there on your own?’
‘I could go with him,’ Loring said.
‘Thank you,’ Nhamedjo said, ‘but the trail’s clear enough, and I’ve been back to the lander since we arrived. I won’t get lost.’
‘The others can’t be far from the camp by now,’ Eunice said. ‘If you see them, move with caution and don’t block their way. The formal introductions will have to wait.’
While Nhamedjo went to suit up and make the short trek back to the lander, the rest of the party raced down to the Tantors. Eunice and Goma took the lead, but at the door the older woman raised a hand. ‘Goma and Ru have already had close contact with the Tantors; the rest of you haven’t. Let’s keep it that way for now.’
‘Surely you don’t think it’s anything to do with them?’ Vasin said.
‘I’m taking no chances. Wait outside this door until we have a better idea of what’s happening.’
Eunice sealed the door behind her, locking Goma and Ru in with her and the Tantors. She made an adjustment to the room’s air pressure and air-circulation settings.
Ru was still kneeling at Sadalmelik’s side, a hand on his trunk. It could not have been more than four or five minutes since Goma left, but Sadalmelik’s condition had clearly worsened. Having witnessed the death of Agrippa, the progression was as unmistakable as it was harrowing.
Eunice knelt down and snapped open her medical kit. There was more in it than Goma had been expecting, and it was all very neatly organised. She took out an enormous syringe, stabbed it hard into Sadalmelik’s thigh and drew a dense purple cylinder of blood. She slotted the blood sample into the maw of some kind of miniature analysis device built into the kit.
‘Plasma assay will take a few minutes to run,’ she said, tapping a finger against a tiny readout in the top of the analyser. ‘In the meantime, I’m going to take a chance on a double bolus of broad-spectrum antibiotics and antivirals.’ She dug deeper into the kit, produced another heavy-duty syringe filled with straw-coloured liquid. ‘It’s worked before, so it may give him a fighting chance. Eldasich, Achernar – what happened? When did you all start feeling unwell?’
‘They say they can’t breathe,’ Ru said. ‘It started during the night – coughing, fluid build-up in their lungs.’ She was looking up at Goma from her kneeling position, abject concern on her face, nearly crying from the distress of it all. ‘Sadalmelik was the first to succumb, but Eldasich and Achernar are going the same way. It’s something we brought, isn’t it?’
‘Eldasich,’ Eunice said again, ‘Achernar – I know this is hard, but we need to isolate the three of you. I want you to move into the secondary chambers – one in each. We’ll do what we can for Sadalmelik, but I have to think of you as well.’
‘Will Sadalmelik pass into the Remembering?’ asked Achernar.
‘Not if I can help it. But all three of you are ill and I don’t know what’s causing it. Trust me to do my best for you.’
‘We will leave him,’ Eldasich said.
Eunice recharged the syringe and injected the other two Tantors. ‘This may or may not make any difference, but it’s all I can do for the moment. Think hard, both of you – did either of you feel ill before the people arrived? Did you notice anything wrong with Sadalmelik?’
‘We were well,’ Achernar said. ‘This came quickly.’
‘Then it must be connected to their arrival somehow,’ Eunice said, in a deliberate, judicial tone.
With visible reluctance, Achernar and Eldasich moved away from their fallen friend and trudged into the adjoining chambers. Eunice promised she would look in on them later, then sealed the connecting doors.
Goma, meanwhile, stood helpless, desperate to be doing something but utterly at a loss as to how she could help. ‘Test our blood as well,’ she said. ‘Just in case.’
‘I was about to. Has either of you experienced a recent illness?’
‘Other than Ru’s
AOTS
, we’ve both been fine.’
This drew sharp interest from Eunice. ‘
AOTS
?’
‘Accumulated Oxygen Toxicity Syndrome – it’s a condition, not a disease,’ Ru answered. ‘The oxygen partial pressure on Crucible is high, but we’ve adapted to it with drugs and therapies. I lapsed on the drugs – allowed myself to suffer oxygen toxicity over a prolonged period.’
‘Go on,’ Eunice said.
‘At its worst, it’s like a persistent case of the bends. But that was years ago – I’ve been managing it ever since. Besides, as I said, it’s not contagious.’
‘What about bacterial pneumonia?’ Eunice asked as she prepared to take the two human blood samples.
‘What about it?’ Goma asked.
‘Zoonotic infection. It’s hopped from people to elephants in the past – usually with fatal consequences.’
‘Neither of us has pneumonia,’ Ru said.
‘We’ll see.’
Eunice drew blood from both of them, docked the syringes with the analyser, tapped buttons on its keypad. The machine was already making whirring and clicking sounds, interspersed with the whine of high-speed centrifuges and pumps. While it was preoccupied, Eunice moved to a bucket, retrieved a wet sponge and used it to soothe Sadalmelik. ‘Easy, my friend,’ she whispered, dabbing around his eye. ‘We’ve come through a lot, you and me. Too soon to bow out just yet.’
Sadalmelik’s trunk moved. Eunice stroked it, closed her fingers around the tip.
‘I’m right here.’
The analyser chirped – it had completed the first battery of tests. Eunice peered at the cryptic numbers and symbols of the readout. ‘A viral infection,’ she said, delivering the news neutrally. ‘Give it a little while and it will attempt to cook up a targeted antiviral.’
‘Attempt?’ Goma asked.
‘It isn’t perfect.’
The device gave two more chirps. The earlier medical data shuffled aside, replaced by more numbers and symbols. Goma knew some basic medical biology but this was too arcane for her, and the technology of the assay device was unfamiliar. ‘Well, the good news is that neither of you has an elevated viral load,’ Eunice said, after a moment’s consideration of the numbers. ‘You had the closest contact with the Tantors, so that was my first suspicion. But if it’s something airborne, any one of the others could be responsible.’
‘You’ll have to test all of us,’ Goma said.
Eunice gave a snort of derision. ‘I fully intend to.’
A chime sounded hollowly throughout the chamber and the adjoining volumes. It repeated twice more, with an interval between each chime, and then there was silence. Goma looked around, wondering if it might be some kind of alarm. They had heard nothing like it since their arrival.
‘What’s that?’
‘The doorbell,’ Eunice told her. ‘Atria, Mimosa and Keid, back from their repair work. I told you they must be nearby. They’re waiting at the main lock. I’ll need to speak to them, explain the situation. They can wait outside a little longer if they need to.’ Then she handed the sponge and bucket to Ru. ‘We’re going to need more water. I’ll show you where to refill the bucket, and then you can take care of it when I’m not in the room.’
‘Where are you going?’ Goma asked.
‘Not far. I just want to be sure about these blood samples, and there are some more involved tests I can only run in the upper levels.’ Eunice closed the toolkit and rose to her feet. She went first to the door and punched her fist against a control. ‘Atria – can you hear me? You must wait outside. It isn’t safe for you to come back inside just yet.’ Then she stepped away from the door and gestured to Ru. ‘This way. Goma – keep an eye on Sadalmelik. Talk to him. Reassure him.’
‘I will.’
Eunice walked with Ru across the stepped platforms of the floor. They had not gone more than a dozen paces when Eunice discarded any pretence that this was about fetching water. She locked one arm around Ru’s neck, applying enough pressure to force out a yelp of surprise and pain, and used the other to twist back hard on Ru’s own arm, as if she meant to yank it out of its socket.
‘Goma,’ Eunice said, turning back and raising her voice, ‘do nothing and say nothing. I may only be human these days, but I’m more than capable of hurting Ru.’
Goma jumped to her feet, kicking over the medical kit in her surprise. ‘What are you doing?’
Ru screamed. She was barely ten metres away, but it might as well have been kilometres for all the difference Goma could make. She shuddered to think of the force Eunice was applying, the nasty biomechanics of bone and muscle and nerve, the pain she was likely inflicting.
‘I told you not to speak.’
They were still walking, ascending the raised sections. Finally they reached one of the doors leading into the secondary chambers. It was not one of those through which Eldasich and Achernar had already passed, but rather a smaller door that would have been a squeeze for anything but a juvenile elephant. At the threshold, Eunice gave Ru a violent shove and then stepped smartly back from the door. Ru fell inside and the door sealed before she had a chance to spring back through the gap. Eunice touched the panel next to the door and Goma heard the sound of heavy locking mechanisms moving into place.
‘What are you doing?’
Eunice turned back to address Goma. They were on the same level now, eye to eye. She was unfazed – no sweat or other sign of exertion showing on her face.
‘Ru has an elevated viral load. She’s carrying something, and my guess is we’re looking at the consequences.’
‘Why did you lie?’
‘Because I had to. Because she still trusted me enough to walk away from Sadalmelik. Understand that I could easily have killed her, Goma, with the things in this room – the things in that medical kit. I’ve chosen to quarantine her instead.’
‘Let her go!’
‘She’s a weapon, Goma. Whatever’s in her blood acts so quickly it can’t be anything but an engineered zoonotic virus.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘I mean it’s something put there deliberately, designed to take down Tantors. Why else would she be asymptomatic? Extreme measures were necessary. Even more extreme measures might be required.’
‘You’re wrong.’
Eunice walked back to Sadalmelik, dipped down to offer him a reassuring hand. Carefully she released the harness securing the speaking plate to his forehead and eased the whole assembly away. Goma guessed that it must have been more comfortable that way, and that Eunice had decided that he was now too weak to generate language.
‘How long have you known her?’
‘Half my life. This isn’t what you think.’
‘People can keep the strangest secrets from each other, Goma. Doctors make the best murderers. Someone who truly hates what the Tantors are – what they stand for – what would stop someone like that becoming a scientist? Being drawn to the thing they most despise?’
‘You don’t know her.’
‘I can see the evidence.’
‘Let me speak to the others. I have to tell them what you’ve done.’