Absorption (61 page)

Authors: John Meaney

BOOK: Absorption

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But he had to. Stiff and formal in ceremonial clothes, he had to, because that was how humanity honours the dead, the only way that we know how.

Now the coffin, as shown in the massive holo, exited into mu-space proper, into golden void, while the squadrons formed twin formations and began to fly, surrounding the coffin, using inductive forces to drag it with them as they accelerated faster and faster towards the distant, spiky black star called Nullpoint. They flew with grace and exact precision, holding their complex configuration with the coffin at their centre—

Dad ! Mum!

—and then broke apart, the ships screaming on perfect arcing trajectories away from the deadly sun as the coffin sped onwards, hurtling into the heart of the black star, and then they were gone.

Forever.

As the main part of the ceremony came to an end, Pilots on the floating tiers began to rise from their seats. On the balcony, some of the admirals were already turning to go inside where a formal buffet waited. Down on Borges Boulevard, sudden movement occurred, a fastpath rotation, and a shaven-headed man with rolled-up sleeves stepped out. Within seconds, Pilots in black jumpsuits had descended on the man, surrounding him, then led him away.

‘What was—?’

‘Nothing, Roger.’ Rear-Admiral Schenck took his arm. ‘Let’s not allow anything to spoil today, shall we?’

It’s already spoiled. My parents are dead.

But he said nothing, and allowed Schenck to lead him into the tall elegant chamber where buffet tables offered food and drink he could not even look at. Senior Pilots dressed in black and gold were everywhere. Off to one side, he could see several groups of grey-haired men and women deep in serious discussion, and he realized that for them, today was an opportunity for political wheeling and dealing, with so many gathered in one place.

‘Excuse me,’ said Schenck. ‘There’s someone I must talk to.’

‘Yes, of course.’

Finally, amid the crowd, Roger saw someone he knew, and slipped past people who did not even notice him, until he was standing in front of Pilot Jed Goran.

‘Jed.’

‘Roger.’

They clasped hands in the Labyrinthine fashion.

‘I’m sorry, my friend,’ added Jed. ‘You’ll survive today, because you have to.’

‘Yes. I will.’

‘But no one will miss you for a while. Come with me.’

‘I shouldn’t—’

‘Come.’

They walked together, through giant gold-and-sapphire doors into a high ornate corridor. There, Jed summoned a fastpath rotation.

‘Trust me,’ he said.

Roger followed him through.

They came out into a vast blue chamber. At its geometric centre, a small convex triangle was floating: black, webbed with red and gold.