Free Fall Revolution 4: The Sky Road by Ken MacLeod Page B

time.
    ‘My place,’ Menial said.
    ‘Some place,’ I acknowledged. ‘It’s
you who should be working on the platform, with a head for
heights like this.’
    Til keep to my cosy lab and my long lies, thanks.’
    We opened our boxes and spread out and shared the contents,
then got stuck in, both ravenous. For a few minutes we ate,
without saying much, then Menial topped up the mugs, lit herself
a cigarette, passed one to me and leaned back against the
rock.
    ‘Clovis, I have something to ask you – ’
    She stopped. She was looking straight ahead, as though she
wanted to talk without looking at me.
    ‘What is it?’
    ‘Something you can maybe tell me. Something you might
not be supposed to. It’s to do with the ship.’
    This was getting more serious than love.
    You want to know about welding?’ I asked, trying to be
flippant.
    She laughed. ‘No, about history.’
    ‘Oh.’ I waved a hand. ‘Any time. But there
must be plenty better qualified than I, all I know about in any
depth is – ’
    She watched me as the penny dropped.
    ‘The life of the Deliverer?’
    ‘That’s the one,’ she agreed cheerily.
    ‘You’re serious?’
    ‘I’m serious,’ she said. She wasn’t
looking away from me now, she was looking at me with a fixity and
intensity of gaze I found alarming.
    ‘All right,’ I said, my mind treading water.
‘You seriously want to know something about the Deliverer?
I can tell you anything you want. But what has that to do with
the ship, for God’s sake?’
    She took a deep breath, gazing away from me again at the tall
ship. ‘It’s a fine ship there, colha Gree, and proud
I am to be working on it. But consider this: it’ll be the
first ship to have lifted from the Yird for many a hundred year.
The first since the Deliverance. We don’t know much of what
happened then, but we do know there were people and machines in
space before the Deliverance, and we’ve heard never a word
from them since. There’s no doubt they’re all dead.
Why do you think that is?’
    ‘There was a war,’ I said patiently, ‘and a
revolution. The Second World Revolution, or the Deliverance, as
we call it. The folk outside the Yird had followed the path of
power, and they fell with the Possession. Starved of supplies, or
killed each other, most like.’
    ‘So the story goes,’ she said, in the tone of one
tired of disputing it. ‘But what if it’s wrong? What
ifwhatever cleared the near heaven of folk and machines and deils
alike is still there?’
    ‘Ah,’ I said, glancing involuntarily up at the
clear blue sky. ‘But it stands to Reason, the people in
charge of the project will have considered this. Why don’t
you take it up with them?’
    They’ve considered it all right,’ she said,
‘and rejected it. There’s no evidence of anything up
there that could do the ship any harm. There’s no evidence
that the loss of the space habitations was anything but what
you’ve said.’
    ‘So why do you think I might know anything about this
-’ I waved my hand dismissively ‘ – supposed danger?’
    ‘Because…’ At this point, I swear, she
looked around and leaned closer, almost whispering in my ear.
‘There has long been a tinker tradition, or rumour, or hint
– you know how it is with the old folk – that
whatever did destroy the space settlements and satellites
and so on might still be there, and that it was… the
Deliverer’s own doing.’
    My mouth must have fallen open. I could feel it go instantly
dry, and I felt a moment of giddiness and nausea. My fingers dug
into the tough grass as the world spun dangerously. I looked at
her, sickened, yet fascinated despite myself. The natural
religion has no sin of blasphemy, but this was blasphemy as near
as dammit. ‘That’s deep water, Menial.’
    ‘You’re telling meV she snorted.
‘I’ve had trouble enough for even suggesting it.
Everybody thinks the Deliverer was a perfect soldier of God,