Resplendent by Stephen Baxter Page B

justice and retribution. But here, in this office, you must confront the reality of a mother and her child.’

    Sarfi said to Hama, ‘If your guard kills my mother, she kills me too.’

    ‘No,’ said Hama. ‘We aren’t barbarians. You have nothing to fear—’

    Sarfi reached out and swept her arm down at the desk - no, Hama saw, startled; her arm passed through the desk, briefly breaking up into a cloud of pixels, boxes of glowing colour.

    ‘You’re a Virtual,’ he whispered.

    ‘Yes. And do you want to know where I live?’ She stepped up to her mother and pushed her hand into Gemo’s skull.

    Gemo observed his lack of comprehension. ‘You don’t know much about us, do you, even though you presume to judge us? Hama, pharaohs rarely breed true.’

    ‘Your daughter was mortal?’

    ‘The Qax’s gift was ambiguous. We watched our children grow old and die. That was our reward for serving the Qax; perhaps your Commission will accept that historical truth. And when she died—’

    ‘When she died, you downloaded her into your head?’

    ‘Nowhere else was safe,’ Gemo said. ‘And I was glad to, um, make room for her. I have lived a long time; there were memories I was happy to shed.’

    Nomi said harshly, ‘But she isn’t your daughter. She’s a copy.’

    Gemo closed her eyes. ‘But she’s all I have left.’

    Hama felt moved, and repelled, by this act of obsessive love.

    Sarfi looked away, as if ashamed.

    There was a low concussion. The floor shuddered. Hama could hear running footsteps, cries.

    Nomi Ferrer understood immediately. ‘Lethe. That was an explosion.’

    The light dropped, as if some immense shadow were passing over the sky. Hama ran to the window.

    All around the Conurbation, ships were lifting, hauled into the sky by silent technology, an eerie rising. But they entered a sky that was already crowded, darkened by the rolling, meaty bulk of a Spline craft, from whose flanks fire spat.

    Hama cringed from the brute physical reality of the erupting conflict. And he knew who to blame. ‘It’s the jasofts,’ he said. ‘The ones taken to orbit to help with the salvaging of the Spline. They took it over. And now they’ve come here, to rescue their colleagues.’

    Gemo Cana smiled, squinting up at the sky. ‘Sadly, stupidity is not the sole prerogative of mayflies. This counter-coup cannot succeed. And then, when this Spline no longer darkens the sky, your vengeance will not be moderated by show trials and bleats about justice and truth. You must save us, Hama Druz. Now!’

    Sarfi pressed her hands to her face.

    Hama stared at Gemo. ‘You knew. You knew this was about to happen. You timed your visit to force me to act.’

    ‘It’s all very complicated, Hama Druz,’ Gemo said softly, manipulating. ‘Don’t you think so? Get us out of here - all of us - and sort it out later.’

    Nomi pulled back the pharaoh’s head. ‘You know what I think? I think you’re a monster, pharaoh. I think you killed your daughter, long ago, and stuck her in your head. An insurance against a day like today.’

    Gemo, her face twisted by Nomi’s strong fingers, forced a smile. ‘Even if that were true, what difference would it make?’ And she gazed at Hama, waiting for his decision.

     
    Obeying Nomi’s stern voice commands, the ship rose sharply. Hama felt no sense of acceleration as shadows slipped over his lap.

    This small craft was little more than a translucent hemisphere. In fact it would serve as a lifedome, part of a greater structure waiting in Earth orbit to propel him across Sol system. The three of them, plus Sarfi, were jammed into a cabin made for two. The Virtual girl was forced to share the space already occupied by Hama and Gemo. Where her projection intersected their bodies it dimmed and broke up, and she averted her face; Hama was embarrassed by this brutal indignity.

    The ship emerged from its pit and rushed directly beneath the looming belly of the attacking