‘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?’
Bloc glanced over his shoulder to check the Old Captains and the others were still back by the walkways. He did not know why they had come down to the foot of the stair. Did they expect him to try to escape?
‘We have to retake the Sable Keech, More reifications will want to make this voyage here. I can offer you a percentage of the profits.’
As Aesop made a harsh hacking sound, Bloc realized the reif was trying to laugh.
‘Oh Taylor Bloc,’ he eventually said, ‘and how do you think we would fare against three Old Captains? Or against reifications who now hate you because you’ve brought them here to final death? Or against the Hoopers—and against Sable Keech?’
‘There is always a way.’
‘It’s over, Bloc. You wanted to come here to the Little Flint, because it was your mission, your calling, your destiny… whatever. So enjoy it—and remember it until that moment they wipe your mind.’
Bloc turned away to study the Old Captains standing on the stairway, along with Erlin, Janer and Keech.
‘Anyway,’ continued Aesop from behind him, ‘you’re all alive again, and my, don’t you look pink. We might as well have ourselves some fun here, as it’ll make no difference to the sentence we receive back in the Polity. What do you think, Bones?’
The snicking sound as Bones extruded the blades from his finger ends was all too audible. Bloc turned, shuddering with horror at the memory of sharp blades cutting into his former flesh. He tried to back away, but Aesop’s decaying hand closed firmly on the front of his coverall.
‘No no… You don’t understand,’ he stammered.
‘Too late now,’ hissed Aesop.
Bloc heard a shout from behind, and glanced back to see Sable Keech running towards him. It was too late. Too late for all three of them. The other two had not seen the huge iridescent shell rising behind them, nor the dinner-plate eye, nor the enormous tentacles now reaching across the Little Flint.
Sniper closed his own tentacles around the Prador drone and began decelerating before they both burnt up on reentry. He gripped tightly and kept his weapons systems online, just in case. They descended in a long arc that took them out of night into twilight, then towards daylight. As Sniper brought the drone down on an atoll just catching the rays of the morning sun, he once again opened communication with the Warden.