“I thought you’d gone on your way,” Viola said to Walker. “Even I would say that there are better sights to see on Shuloma Station than the Crossed Keys, you know.”
“I have some unfinished business with Heyes,” Walker said. “Is she here?”
“I’m fond of that old woman,” Viola said. “I don’t want her to come to any harm.”
“Neither do I. But she might be in trouble,” Walker said, truthfully. “I want to make sure she knows what’s heading her way.”
“What kind of trouble?”
Walker smiled. “It’s better that you don’t know.”
Viola sucked thoughtfully on the pipe. With another slight nod, she sent the big young man on his way. “Heyes is back there.”
Walker nodded her thanks, and she and Larsen on into the bar. They found Heyes sitting alone in a quiet booth, eyes half-closed. There was a nearly empty tumbler in front of her. Walker sat down. Heyes looked at her glassily from under her eyelids. “Thought you’d be long gone.” Her voice was slightly slurred. “Why aren’t you gone?”
Walker slid in beside her, making the woman move along. Larsen sat down opposite. “I’m not finished with you yet,” said Walker.
“’M finished with you. Never really got started. Got nothing for you.” She waved at Walker, vaguely. “Go away.”
Larsen turned to Walker. “This is your lead? Jesus Christ—”
“Don’t underestimate this one, Kay.”
“She’s a drunk. A priest. A drunk priest.”
“Maybe so, but she also caused a lot of influential people a lot of trouble back on Shard’s World.”
Slowly, but surely, Heyes began to slump forwards onto the table. “Look at her,” said Larsen. “She’s not even troubling that glass of whisky. Delia, we’ve got to go. We don’t have much time and we’re wasting it here—”
Walker shook her head. “This will be worth it. I promise.” She snapped her fingers. “Hey! Heyes!” But the priest had started to snore. Walker banged her hand against the table. Heyes jumped.
“Stop tha’!”
“Wake up!”
“Wasn’t aslee’...”
“All right, you’re wide awake. So listen. Listen hard, Heyes You’re in trouble. There are some bad people coming this way, and if they find out that you’ve met me, they won’t take pity on you. They’ll kill you.”
Heyes put her head in her hands. “Let them come. Sick of this life. Be a blessing. God have mercy. Resurrection and the...” She hesitated. “What was it? ‘I am the resurrection and the...’ Oh, fuck it.”
“For God’s sake, Delia,” hissed Larsen. “Let’s get out of here!”
Heyes looked up and stared at her blurrily. “God help you. Never helped me. Only caused me problems. Made me try to live right. What good’s that done me? I ask you.” Her eyes narrowed as she tried to focus on Larsen. “Who are you? You’re not that Vetch boy. Are you really Vetch? You don’t look Vetch.”
“Thanks for that.” Larsen turned to Walker. “Whoever this is—she’s not sober enough to help and we’re wasting time we could use to get away.”
Heyes slammed both hands against the table, sending the tumbler flying. Larsen caught it before it flew off the table. “The life!” cried Heyes. “That was it! The resurrection and the life.” She stared at Walker. “Now what the fuck was it you were talking about?”
Walker put her arm around the big woman’s shoulders. “Come on,” she said. “Time to go. Time for you to take a little trip off Shuloma.”
Heyes tried to shake her off. “Fuck off! ’M not going anywhere!”
“Oh, yes you are. You’re coming with us. Otherwise some people are going to come and kill you. And they’ll take their time over it.”
“You can’t fool me! Big con, that’s what this is. Trying to find out about Stella Maris. Well, I won’t tell you anything!”
Stella Maris...
It might be enough, Walker thought. It might show up on a star chart somewhere. She could leave this drunken liability where she was. God only knew she had enough unexpected dependents right now...
But those people were still coming. And even if Heyes knew nothing about Braun’s World, they might not believe her, however long they tormented her. In many ways, thought Walker, she was about to do Heyes a favour...
“You’re going to tell me everything I want to know,” said Walker, quietly and not pleasantly. Larsen frowned at her. “Listen, Heyes. My friend and I know a secret—a big secret. The kind that people don’t hesitate to kill over.”
“Bullshi’.”
“There was a massacre on Braun’s World. Millions upon millions dead. They said it was the Weird, but it wasn’t. They lied, and murdered millions upon millions to make their lie seem true. They’re killing everyone who know the secret. And the thing is—that includes you now, Heyes. They can’t leave you alive. So they’ll come and find you. They’re already on their way. They’re coming after us, and they’ll know about you. Not least because when they catch up with me—and no doubt they
will
catch up with me, eventually—I’ll tell them. I’ll say to them, ‘Your secret isn’t safe until you kill the priest.’ So you can’t stay here. You have to come with us.”
All through Walker’s speech, Heyes had been coming more and more into focus. By the time Walker finished, she was stone cold sober. “You evil bitch...” she said, in a wondering voice.
“Yes,” Walker agreed.
“Why the hell have you told me this? What have I done to you?”
“You haven’t been as helpful as I needed,” Walker said. “You know where this world is—where the Weird are living alongside humans. I want to go there. I want to...” Walker hesitated. Put bluntly, her quest seemed hopeless. “I want to talk to them.”
“So to satisfy some fantasy of yours you’ve put the fucking
Bureau
on me?”
“They’re already onto you,” said Larsen. “You must have guessed what Walker is?” She smiled, almost cheerfully. “Look at it this way, Heyes. At least you’ve fallen in with the good guys.”
“I’m trapped, aren’t I?” said Heyes, desperately.
Walker nodded. “Best come with us. I’m sure it’ll be safer in the long run.”
Y
ERSHOV WAS LESS
than pleased to see Heyes. “I don’t trust Catholics,” he said, arms folded, feet planted firmly on the ground, as if to block her entrance to his flight deck. “And I particularly don’t trust Catholic priests.”
Walker gently pushed him out of her way. “You don’t trust anyone.”
“With good cause!” he yelled at her. “People don’t tell me important things! Like the fact that they’re having babies and all the rest of it!”
“Ah,” said Heyes. “Did I let the cat out of the bag? I’m sorry if I’ve caused any embarrassment.” She thought about that. “That’s not true. I’m not sorry at all.”
Walker didn’t reply, but simply gestured to Heyes to follow her to the flight deck. Heyes turned to Larsen. “I take it that your friend’s condition is not a surprise to you?”
Larsen shrugged. “I’m her doctor.”
“Handy.” The priest lumbered after Walker onto the flight deck.
At least one member of the crew of the
Baba Yaga
was pleased to see Heyes. Failt bounded up to her. “Yershov don’t like you,” he said. “You must be okay.”
Maria, however, was more pleased to see Larsen. “You promised you’d look at my little girl,” she said. “See what can be done. Please. I don’t know what they’ve given her and I don’t know what harm it might be doing.”
“I’m coming now,” said Larsen. “And then I’d like to see you too, Delia.”
Walker nodded. “Let’s get out of here first,” she said. She looked back over her shoulder to the doorway where Yershov was standing, sulking. “Sit down, soldier,” Walker said. “We’ve got a job for you.” She turned to Heyes. “So. Where are we going?”
Heyes sighed, as if this whole affair was against her better judgement. “The world is called Stella Maris, but you won’t find it on any of your charts.”
She’d been right to force Heyes to come. Well, it was probably tidier this way. And it might keep Heyes alive a little longer.
“Give Yershov the co-ordinates,” she said. “It’s long past time we were on our way.”
B
Y THE TIME
Larsen came to see her in her cabin, Walker was very nearly asleep.
“Your crew is certainly... interesting,” Larsen said. “Did you intend to find yourself such a remarkable collection of waifs and strays?”
Walker gave a wan smile. “It was not in the original plan.”
“Two children, two drunks, and somebody’s mum,” said Larsen.
“And a doctor,” Walker pointed out. “At least you have a useful skill set.”
“Hmm.”
“How’s the little girl?” Walker said.
“A lot better. She’s still quite sleepy, and likely to be that way for a couple more days. But the drug hasn’t permanently affected her. It would have—if they’d stayed. Maria made the right decision.”
“She seems to make a lot of those,” Walker mused.
“I took a look inside your pilot’s head too,” said Larsen. “If you’re interested.”
“I’m interested. Did you find anything there?”
“A whole lot of decaying tech. But you knew that already, I think.” Larsen looked at her thoughtfully. “You know, every time he phases, a little more of his brain gets fried.”
“I thought that might be the case. Can you do anything about that?”
“Not really. Pain relief—I gather you’re controlling access to that.”
Walker nodded. “Insurance policy.”
“And I can tell him not to drink, because it doesn’t help. But he won’t listen. As for operating...” Larsen looked around the tiny cabin, which was still grubby, despite the efforts Walker had made when she first came on board. “Well, under these conditions, it would
certainly
kill him, but even if we were back on Hennessy’s World, I don’t think he’d survive it.”
“So we carry on as we are.”
“Well, most of us do. Yershov gets a little closer to a brain haemorrhage every time we phase. I’ll be keeping a close eye on that, not least because we don’t want it to happen while we’re in the void.”
“Christ, no!”
“I thought that might get your attention.”
“We’ll keep an eye on it,” Walker agreed. “And, when this is over... Well, we’ll take care of him.”
“When this is over? Have you thought about what that might mean, Delia? There’ll be no going back to the Expansion, you know.”
“If the cover-up is exposed—”
“Who do we tell?” said Larsen. “Who will listen? And who do you think you can
trust
to tell?”
“There must be someone in the Bureau who would be appalled to learn about this. Who would be willing to have the perpetrators called to account for their actions—”
“Who? Who do you trust? That’s powerful enough these days? You wouldn’t believe the changes, Delia.”
“There’s Mark.”
They stared at each other.
“Do you trust him?” said Larsen.
“Does he still have any influence?” said Walker.
Again, the silence. Larsen shrugged. “Let’s sleep on this,” she said. “I want to examine you—properly. See what’s going on.”
About half an hour later, Larsen sat back. “Everything’s fine,” she said. “Heartbeat good and strong. I wish I could take a look, but I didn’t exactly pack for this.”
Walker leaned back and closed her eyes.
Hey in there
, she thought.
Everything’s fine. You hear that? Everything’s fine
.
“I’m not even going to ask if you’ve thought about the birth.”
“I have, a little,” Walker admitted. “It worries and frightens me.”
“So it should,” muttered Larsen. “Let’s hope that they can help us on Stella Maris. Heyes has sent women and children there before. Pregnant women too, she said. Surely they’ll be able to help.”
“That’s good.” Walker kept her eyes closed. She wanted to sleep, very much.
“The people coming after us,” said Larsen quietly, “will not be good people. Whoever is involved in this—they’ll throw all they can at us. They won’t show any mercy. Not to those people out there—and not to you and...”
“Yes, I know,” said Walker. She felt a touch upon her arm, and opened her eyes to see that Larsen had taken hold of her hand.
“At least you have a doctor with you now.”
Walker smiled. “I’m glad you’re here, Kay. I really am.”
T
HE
B
ABA
Y
AGA
passed through the void. All its crew were sleeping—the mother and child curled up together in their little bed; the Vetch as close as he could get to his mistress’ door; the pilot in a drunken haze; the doctor sleeping the sleep of the just; the operative the sleep of the unjust. The priest was awake. She’d tried whisky, then prayer, then gone back to whisky. Now she was staring at the viewscreen, and the grey swirl of the void. She leaned over to the comm, and sent the message.
Stella Maris. On our way.