small, timid woman who had once been a jeweller, looked terrified as she was bundled out.
The loading proceeded efficiently. When it was Yuri’s turn, the hefty Peacekeepers to either side of him propelled him through the weightlessness with a gloved hand under each armpit. His
last glimpse of the interior of the hull that had transported him across interstellar space was of blank-walled partitions, bits of equipment damaged by fire and vandalism. There was a smell of
smoke, vomit, blood, of shit and piss, and a tang that made his throat itch, maybe a remnant of the gassing.
He was taken to a shower room where he had to strip, was sprayed with some hot, disinfectant-smelling liquid, and made to clean his teeth with a plastic brush. Then he was dressed in a kind of
undersuit with a fresh jumpsuit on top. There was a diaper, he found, built into the undersuit, heavy pants around his crotch.
Then he was shoved out through a tight hatchway, and after a swivel of his vertical perspective found himself dropping into a craft laid out like a small, cramped airplane. There were couches in
rows of four, cushioned seats on which you could lie back as if in a dentist’s chair. Room enough for twenty passengers, he counted quickly. An open door to the front of the cabin led to the
cockpit, a cave of glowing lights where two astronauts worked, side by side, their backs to him.
The shuttle at least seemed clean. It had a new-carpet smell Yuri suddenly realised he hadn’t come across since he had been slotted into that cryo drawer back on Earth; nothing on Mars had
been
new
, or on the starship.
And through the cockpit window, over the shoulders of the crew, he glimpsed a slice of blue, like the sky of Earth.
All this in a glance before he was bundled down into a couch. Mattock and another Peacekeeper worked him over quickly, strapping him in with a heavy safety harness, but also cuffing him to the
frame at wrists and ankles with more plastic ties.
He was the fifth person to be loaded in, with not a word being spoken. Looking forward, he saw that among the other four already loaded, Abbey Brandenstein had been seated right next to Joseph
Mullane, one of her rapists.
Yuri looked up at the battered face of Mattock, who hovered over him as he laboured over the ties. ‘Hey, Peacekeeper. Bad idea,’ he ventured. ‘Mullane and Brandenstein
together—’
His reward was a knee in the stomach. Mattock had become proficient at bracing himself in the lack of gravity to make such blows effective. Yuri couldn’t help but grunt, but he tried to
show no other reaction.
‘Mind your own business, you little prick.’
The rest of the loading went ahead briskly, and almost in silence, save for muttered exchanges between the Peacekeepers. The passengers were all from the group in the confinement cell, eleven in
total. Lemmy was lodged just behind Yuri. Two comparative strangers were loaded into Yuri’s left and right, a big-framed Asiatic who Yuri knew only as Onizuka, who had once been some kind of
businessman, and a woman called Pearl Hanks, small, dark, old eyes in a young face, who had been a prostitute on Earth and on Mars, and, in the hull, had been again. Onizuka ignored Yuri, but he
looked past him at Pearl Hanks with a kind of calculation.
The hatch above their heads was slammed down with finality. And that, Yuri thought, was the last he was going to see of the
Ad Astra
.
With all aboard and tied down tightly, the two Peacekeepers settled in couches at the rear of the cabin. Lex McGregor came floating back from the forward cockpit, as usual immaculate in his
uniform. Beyond him, in the pilots’ cabin, Yuri glimpsed Mardina Jones pulling on a pressure suit.
McGregor faced the passengers. ‘Ladies and gentlemen. Welcome aboard the prosaically named
Ad Astra
shuttle number two. In this brave little ship we will soon be descending to the
planet of another star . . .’
The passenger cabin had no windows. But now,
The loading proceeded efficiently. When it was Yuri’s turn, the hefty Peacekeepers to either side of him propelled him through the weightlessness with a gloved hand under each armpit. His
last glimpse of the interior of the hull that had transported him across interstellar space was of blank-walled partitions, bits of equipment damaged by fire and vandalism. There was a smell of
smoke, vomit, blood, of shit and piss, and a tang that made his throat itch, maybe a remnant of the gassing.
He was taken to a shower room where he had to strip, was sprayed with some hot, disinfectant-smelling liquid, and made to clean his teeth with a plastic brush. Then he was dressed in a kind of
undersuit with a fresh jumpsuit on top. There was a diaper, he found, built into the undersuit, heavy pants around his crotch.
Then he was shoved out through a tight hatchway, and after a swivel of his vertical perspective found himself dropping into a craft laid out like a small, cramped airplane. There were couches in
rows of four, cushioned seats on which you could lie back as if in a dentist’s chair. Room enough for twenty passengers, he counted quickly. An open door to the front of the cabin led to the
cockpit, a cave of glowing lights where two astronauts worked, side by side, their backs to him.
The shuttle at least seemed clean. It had a new-carpet smell Yuri suddenly realised he hadn’t come across since he had been slotted into that cryo drawer back on Earth; nothing on Mars had
been
new
, or on the starship.
And through the cockpit window, over the shoulders of the crew, he glimpsed a slice of blue, like the sky of Earth.
All this in a glance before he was bundled down into a couch. Mattock and another Peacekeeper worked him over quickly, strapping him in with a heavy safety harness, but also cuffing him to the
frame at wrists and ankles with more plastic ties.
He was the fifth person to be loaded in, with not a word being spoken. Looking forward, he saw that among the other four already loaded, Abbey Brandenstein had been seated right next to Joseph
Mullane, one of her rapists.
Yuri looked up at the battered face of Mattock, who hovered over him as he laboured over the ties. ‘Hey, Peacekeeper. Bad idea,’ he ventured. ‘Mullane and Brandenstein
together—’
His reward was a knee in the stomach. Mattock had become proficient at bracing himself in the lack of gravity to make such blows effective. Yuri couldn’t help but grunt, but he tried to
show no other reaction.
‘Mind your own business, you little prick.’
The rest of the loading went ahead briskly, and almost in silence, save for muttered exchanges between the Peacekeepers. The passengers were all from the group in the confinement cell, eleven in
total. Lemmy was lodged just behind Yuri. Two comparative strangers were loaded into Yuri’s left and right, a big-framed Asiatic who Yuri knew only as Onizuka, who had once been some kind of
businessman, and a woman called Pearl Hanks, small, dark, old eyes in a young face, who had been a prostitute on Earth and on Mars, and, in the hull, had been again. Onizuka ignored Yuri, but he
looked past him at Pearl Hanks with a kind of calculation.
The hatch above their heads was slammed down with finality. And that, Yuri thought, was the last he was going to see of the
Ad Astra
.
With all aboard and tied down tightly, the two Peacekeepers settled in couches at the rear of the cabin. Lex McGregor came floating back from the forward cockpit, as usual immaculate in his
uniform. Beyond him, in the pilots’ cabin, Yuri glimpsed Mardina Jones pulling on a pressure suit.
McGregor faced the passengers. ‘Ladies and gentlemen. Welcome aboard the prosaically named
Ad Astra
shuttle number two. In this brave little ship we will soon be descending to the
planet of another star . . .’
The passenger cabin had no windows. But now,
Similar Books
