‘The ancient hive mind is dead,’ the hive mind told him, then demanded, ‘What is happening here?’
‘I would guess the Sable Keech has just anchored by the Little Flint,’ Janer replied.
‘Tell me what has happened while I have been out of contact.’
Janer considered the events of the voyage past, and knew he would be talking for quite some time. He also considered simply putting the hivelink back in his pocket, but then with a sigh stepped out of his cabin and began to relate the story. By the time he was halfway up a stairwell accessing the main deck, the hive mind interrupted to inform him, ‘Vrell’s ship has been destroyed and the other Prador ship is now departing. The Warden has now also informed me of the events at Olian Tay’s bank.’
Janer paused and peered at the two hornets. ‘Did you want me to tell this or not?’
‘Please proceed.’
‘Oh, and knowing the events at Olian’s you have of course authorized my bonus?’
‘Proceed with the story.’
‘Okay, but I’ll be checking that later.’ Janer continued upwards. ‘Just as it seemed we might be getting things under control, Vrell moved his father’s ship right up underneath us…’
The sun beaming on the deck, Janer observed that the anchors were indeed lowered but, by the noise of the chains being fed in and out of their lockers and by the intermittent sounds coming from the engines, he guessed the ship’s position was being carefully adjusted. He glanced over the rail and saw they were in fact right next to the Little Flint—that place made holy by Sable Keech.
The hive mind once again interrupted his monologue. ‘Windcheater warned of further punitive costs should the Little Flint be damaged in any way.’
‘He probably hoped they would crash into it then,’ Janer muttered.
‘Now, from your point of view, tell me what happened when you reached Olian‘s.’
Janer pointed along the deck to the crowd of Hoopers and reifications gathered amidships. ‘You’ll have to wait. Others will want to hear this.’
Keech had once told Janer that, to his recollection, his time here on the Little Flint had been no religious experience. Instead he’d had visions of some very human devils, tried to survive, then escaped from here to end up in a makeshift tank built by Janer, whilst Erlin had performed the midwife’s task of delivering Keech into a new life.
Keech now stood back from the main crowd with Ron and Erlin. Janer approached them.
‘What’s happening?’ Janer asked them.
‘This is what this voyage was all about, apparently,’ said Keech.
Erlin interjected, looking angry, ‘Those reifs still standing want to see the place—along with seven others who’ve survived the resurrection process.’
Ron turned and peered at the hornets on Janer’s shoulder. ‘That sail? Isis Wade?’ he asked him.
‘First I’ll have to tell you who they were,’ said Janer. He ignored the harrumph of protest from the hive mind and filled them in on that story, before proceeding to its ultimate outcome.
‘Kill Death?’ Shaking his head, Ron tapped his temple. ‘That sail was all at sea without sails…’
‘But Isis Wade has survived, I gather,’ said Erlin. ‘I’m glad about that.’
Ron took out his comlink and announced, ‘All right boys; let it go.’
The deck began thrumming from the vibration of massive hydraulics, and Janer wondered for a moment what exactly was happening. He saw the nearby rail moving away from him, and the crowd back away from it as the movable section of the ship’s hull began to fold down towards the sea, extending down with it the collapsible stair from under the main deck. Placing his comlink back into his belt Ron glanced round to where Forlam was escorting Bloc along the deck.
‘What are you going to do with him?’ Janer asked, expecting something nasty.
Ron merely shrugged, and gestured towards Keech.
Keech explained, ‘He gets to walk on the Little Flint just this once, then I take him back to the Polity. Windcheater decided it would be better that way—for good relations.’
‘You’re not going to throw him in for a swim, then?’
‘It would seem not.’ Ron looked disgruntled.
The hull section slapped down onto the sea beside the Little Flint, the stair from the main deck now fully extended. Hoopers scrambled down this to push out walkways leading onto that lonely piece of stone. After securing these, the Hoopers returned, and then the seven resurrectees walked down.
‘I don’t like this,’ said Keech, moving up beside Ron.
‘Seems only fair to let him set foot on the place,’ replied the Captain. ‘Why are you worried? You get him afterwards.’
‘Still…’ Keech looked round as Bloc finally approached.
Now, Janer spotted Captains Drum and Ambel stepping out from the nearby mainmast stairwell, propelling Aesop and Bones before them. When the four of them reached the edge of the ship, Ambel gazed over to eye his own ship, still trailing on its tow rope behind the Sable Keech.
‘Not so low in the water, now,’ he observed, glancing towards Ron.
The other Captain nodded, then, thumbing its volume down, held his comlink up against his ear.
‘I did this, I brought them here. I brought them here to the Little Flint!’ announced Bloc abruptly, as if that somehow gave him power in this situation.
The other seven resurrectees seemed bemused, and perhaps slightly disappointed. After wandering around on the surface of the Flint for a short time, they were already returning. Still-mobile reifications were now going down for a look around, too, some of them wearing the distinctive dress of Kladites. A few Hoopers joined them.
‘The Little Flint,’ said Bloc, triumphantly.
Janer eyed Ron, who was now muttering into his comlink. He went up to stand beside the Captain, but only in time to see Ron thumb the link off.
‘Y’know,’ said the Captain, ‘Convocation didn’t agree with Windcheater.’
‘Ron, what are you—?’
‘Everybody get off there; we ain’t got all day!’ Ron bellowed, interrupting him. He turned to Bloc. ‘I guess it’s all right for you to go down for a look.’ Indicating Aesop and Bones he added, ‘Those two as well.’
Bloc placed his foot down on the Little Flint. He could feel it through the sole of his slipper. With all the obstacles they had thrown in his path, he had yet achieved this—no matter what they might think of him. He stooped down to touch the smooth stone, closed his eyes and absorbed the sensation. Standing up again, he glanced at Aesop and Bones, who had wandered off to the other side of Flint. They were conversing in low voices, and it seemed that, despite them having once been under his control, they now found themselves in the same straits as himself. He would make an alliance here. He straightened up and approached them.
‘Aesop,’ he said, ‘Bones.’
‘Bloc,’ replied Aesop. Bones just licked out his metallic tongue.
‘We’re even now. You two tortured me to death, and I killed you and made you serve me. Perhaps now we should put our relationship on a financial footing.’
Bones emitted only a hissing titter.
Aesop remarked, ‘Bones, even without benefit of flesh, is capable of expressing his amusement better than I can. Tell me, Bloc, what do you suggest?’