‘Sure, close to the ground,’ said Dana. ‘But do you think you could manage this? Climb up more than a hundred and fifty metres with a grasshopper and carry out a precision landing on the terrace?’
‘The precision landing isn’t a problem,’ said Tim. ‘But the height—’
‘Technically speaking the height is the least of our worries; theoretically they can be used to fly in open space.’ Lynn brushed her hands over her eyes. ‘But Dana’s right. I don’t trust myself. Not in my condition. I’d lose my nerve.’
It was the first time she had publicly dropped her guard. Tim had never known her to do that. He took it as a good sign.
‘Okay, fine,’ he said. ‘How many of the things do we need? Each hopper can take one additional person, so three all together, right? Three pilots. I’ll do it. Walo?’
‘I’ve never been up that high with one, but if Lynn thinks it will work—’
Tim ran into the lobby and clapped his hands.
‘Someone!’ he called. ‘We need one person for the third hopper.’
‘Me’ said Heidrun, without knowing what it was even about.
‘Are you sure? You have to land the thing on Gaia’s head. Do you think you can do it?’
‘Generally speaking, I think I’m capable of doing anything…’
‘No fear of heights?’
‘… but whether I manage it or not is a different matter.’
‘No, it’s not.’ Tim shook his head. ‘You have to manage it. You have to know now whether you can or not, otherwise—’
She stood up and brushed her white hair behind her ears.
‘No, no “otherwise”. I’ll manage it.’
There were spares of all the spacesuits concealed behind a wall in the lobby, which meant they didn’t have to go up over the bridges to the lockers. They helped each other into the suits, put the gear for Olympiada Rogacheva, Miranda and Finn together and packed it into boxes.
‘Are there problems in the corridor?’ asked Tim.
‘No, the sensors are registering steady values.’ Lynn went ahead of them, led them to a passageway the other side of the elevators and opened a large bulkhead. Behind it was a spacious stairway with steep steps.
‘You’ll get down below this way. I’ll open the garage from the control centre.’
Tim reflected that she should perhaps have built a route like this upstairs too, but bit back the observation.
‘Good luck,’ said Lynn.
Tim hesitated. Then he put both arms around his sister and pulled her close. ‘I know what you’re going through,’ he said softly, ‘and I’m unbelievably proud of you. I have no idea how you’re coping with all this.’
‘Nor do I,’ she whispered.
‘Everything’s going to be fine,’ he said.
‘What’s left?’ She pulled away from his embrace and grasped his hands. ‘Tim, you have to believe me, I have nothing to do with Carl, no matter what Dana says. It’s myself I’m destroying, not anything else.’
‘This isn’t your fault, Lynn. There’s nothing you can do!’
‘Now go.’ The corner of her mouth twitched. ‘Quickly!’
There was something inherently calming about the empty, coolly lit corridor, designed to reinstate and strengthen trust in technological advancement. Its rationality made it seem immune to corruption from recklessly caused catastrophes, but Tim reminded himself that, in a way, it had all started here, with the appearance of Carl Hanna rousing Julian’s mistrust. He wondered whether the bomb was hidden below them. A few hours hadn’t been enough to search every nook and cranny. How small was a mini-nuke? Was it under the conveyor belt that stretched out alongside them? Under one of the floor tiles? Behind the wall, in the ceiling?
They had suggested that Sushma, Mukesh, Eva and Karla take the Lunar Express to the foot of the Montes Alpes and wait there at a safe distance until they had either freed the prisoners or been blown to smithereens with the hotel. But they had all insisted on staying, even Sushma, who had bravely tried to suppress her fear. In order to give their battered morale a boost, Lynn had ended up sending the women to look for Nina Hedegaard, since this would at least keep them occupied. Tim hoped fervently that his sister wouldn’t crack up back at the control centre, but was reassured to a certain extent by the fact that Mukesh had stayed with her. They reached the garage and saw the rafters of the retractable roof disappear into their cases. The starry sky was twinkling above them. A dozen buggies stood there waiting for a party that would never take place.
The shapeless Callisto rested opposite them with clumsy assertiveness, as if suggesting it was capable of flying to Mars. Ugly but reliable, as poor Chuck had joked just the day before. Compared with the shuttle, the laughable grasshoppers looked like toys.
‘Who’s flying in front?’ asked Heidrun.
‘Tim,’ said Ögi decisively as he stowed the box containing Olympiada’s suit into the small cargo hold. ‘Then you, then me, to make sure I don’t lose you.’
‘Lynn,’ said Tim over his helmet radio, ‘we’re setting off.’
He still couldn’t get used to the lack of engine noise. The hopper rose without a sound, exited the garage and started its ascent. From behind, Gaia looked just the same as it always had: superior and indestructible. The camera in his helmet sent images back to the control centre. He flew in an arc, as agreed with Lynn beforehand, so she could get an idea of how the front section looked. He intensified the thrust, let the force carry him towards the shoulder of the huge figure, then held his breath.
‘Good God.’ Walo’s voice piped up in his helmet.
It had been obvious even from the side view that something wasn’t right. Parts of the façade were missing or lay in ruins, and in places the naked steel of the support framework was exposed. Now, as they flew directly towards it, the full extent of the destruction was revealed. The contourless face was no longer focused on the Earth, but just beneath it. Where the neck had once been, there was now a gaping, black, collapsed hole. The complete front section was broken away, and Gaia’s chin was sunk so far that only the lower half of the elevator doors was still peeping out.
Tim steered the hopper closer. The colossal skull seemed to be hanging by a thread at the neck. E2 stood open, its insides just a gullet corroded by flames. Steel columns, grotesquely deformed, faced towards him. His stomach filled with dread as he dared to look down one more time. There was debris distributed all over the figure’s upper thigh, albeit not much. And it looked as if Gaia were nodding to him. Finn was right: they had come not a moment too soon.
On the ascent, he saw the sealed-off Chang’e, and was convinced he could make out smoke and rust inside it, burnt furnishings, but the dark windows with their gold filtering concealed what lay beyond, leaving any detail to the imagination. Out of the blue, he was overcome by an attack of vertigo. The hopper’s platform had no railings, and any flying carpet would have seemed like a spacious dance floor in comparison. Quickly reassuring himself that Heidrun and Walo were behind him, he passed Selene and the Luna Bar and followed the arch of the forehead round to the viewing platform. Figures started to move beneath him: O’Keefe, Olympiada and Miranda were making their way towards the airlock. He swivelled the jets, reduced his speed, overshot the terrace a little, turned and came to a standstill right next to the railing. Not the most elegant of landings. Alongside him, at an appropriate distance, Heidrun landed as if she had been flying hoppers her whole life. Meanwhile, Ögi flew a lap of honour amidst a great deal of cursing, then finally forced the hopper down, clattering one of the telescopic legs along the railing in the process.