Hubble made God look small. He has never quite recovered from that.
—De Rerum Comoedia
“Mayday. Begin emergency transmission. All frequencies. PS Johnnie Ray. Request help immediately. Two male crew: Alex Muscroft and Lewis Ashby. Two H9 evacuees: one child female, Tay Ashby; one adult female, Katy Wallace.”
Carlton had managed to fix the radio. They were, in theory, no longer alone. Their local life-support systems had started up easily enough. Most of these were not broken, they had merely tripped. Circuit breakers were burned out everywhere, of course, but once these were replaced, they had a steady supply of air, water, and emergency lighting. But they were still without main power.
Tay was very quiet. Lewis was worried about her, but none of them had much time to sit with her during those first hours. There was just too much to do to ensure their survival. Alex had shown her the games room and her eyes lit up.
“Wow,” she said, “are all these yours?”
“Yes,” he said with a proud little smile, “and you can play with them when we get the power back.”
Now she sat quietly drawing by the low wattage of emergency lights. Lewis looked in now and again.
Once she said, “It’s okay, Daddy, I’m fine. Really.”
Another time she asked him about her mother. He gave her a big hug.
From time to time Alex checked on Katy Wallace in the sick bay. She was still unconscious. Alex’s beaky face would appear at the round window to see if she had woken yet. He wasn’t quite sure what they should say to her. Was she really responsible for the death of Sammy? It made him angry to think of it, and yet, looking at her lying there, helpless, breathing gently, he felt sure there was a reasonable explanation.
Carlton went in periodically to turn her.
The third time Alex’s face appeared in the window, Carlton beckoned him inside.
“She hasn’t woken yet.”
“Thank you, Carlton, I can see that.”
“You should see this,” said Carlton. “It’s quite something.” He began pulling the sheet back, revealing her naked body underneath.
“Carlton!” said Alex, shocked.
“It’s okay, she’s quite unconscious.”
“That doesn’t make it okay. Oh my god.”
The shock of her beauty took his breath away. And then he winced. She was lying facedown, her hair sprawling over the pillow. Her naked back was a mass of bruises.
“Someone beat her.”
Carlton nodded.
“Who did that to her?”
“Persons unknown.”
“Why?”
“Maybe they wanted to prevent her revealing something.”
“How come?”
“Well they left her in the Rialto to die. See here.”
There were tiny marks on the upper part of her thigh. Little needle tracks.
“Someone pumped her full of Corazone,” said Carlton. “She would never have got out alive. She couldn’t even walk.”
“Corazone?”
“A highly effective memory suppressant and a total muscle relaxant. She’ll probably sleep for a week.”
He covered her up gently with the sheet.
“She is like the Sleeping Beauty,” said Carlton. “Perhaps you should try waking her with a kiss.”
“Are you trying to be funny?”
“Is that funny?”
“No.”
“Oh.”
“It’s not funny at all. This woman knows something.” He looked down at her sleeping face. She seemed so innocent.