But the people were agitated. They were talking to each other.
Or trying to talk.
Someone was running now. They were shouting. Whatever they were saying made no sense to me. But there was nothing strange about that. I really only spoke one language these days.
I dashed back to my sister.
‘They cannot understand each other. The aug is gone. They are all like me now.’ I looked back over her shoulder, at the stairwell leading down into the lower levels of the monument. ‘I have to find someone who can help.’
‘No,’ my sister. ‘You don’t.’ She closed her eyes. They were closed for a very long time.
I supported her head again. I wondered if there was a chance of getting my sister down to the level of the Wind Rose, without the exo to help either of us. I thought it unlikely, and also did not think much of my chances of finding help when I got there. I could still hear the voices. They were speaking in many tongues. They sounded frightened. They made me think of children who had been playing a happy and carefree game, only to have the rules changed at a stroke, and now the game had become both dangerous and bewildering.
This was unfortunate. But it occurred to me that the people did not know how lucky they were.
‘I am sorry,’ I said, when my sister reopened her eyes.
‘For what?’
‘There is nothing I can do.’
‘There is,’ my sister said. With some tremendous penultimate effort, she moved her hand, closed it around one of my own and drew it to her neck. ‘There is.’
‘What?’
‘Be strong,’ she said. ‘You have work to do. They’re going to need you now.’
My sister died then. I felt her hand slacken, saw the focus and brightness slip from her eyes. But my hand was still where she had brought it, and I understood now that she had wanted me to have the charm she wore around her neck. It was that old thing we had found in the box, when we drew lots under the candelabra tree, and agreed between us that it should remain on Earth, in the care of Chiku Yellow. I undid the leather fastening as carefully as I could, then lifted the charm free. My fingers felt clumsy as I retied it around my own neck. I wanted this to be done now, before I thought of anything else.
I did not feel strong or resolute but I forced myself to stand again, and stand tall. I thought of my sister’s final words. I did not feel like I had the means in me to help myself, let alone anyone else. But Chiku Yellow had spoken truthfully: they would need me now, simply because I had already learned to live without the Mechanism. But I could still hear the shouts and cries, and they sounded worse than before. I moved to the edge and looked out across the water and the city again. Beyond the confusion at the Monument to the Discoveries, it was hard to sense any desperate change in things. The buildings gleamed and the suspension bridge glittered. But it would be like this everywhere, I knew. Not just Lisbon but the whole world. And not just Earth, either – the Mechanism’s collapse would be spreading out through the solar system even as I thought these words. It was far beyond the Moon already, well on its way to Mars and beyond.
It was preposterous to think that one woman could do any good, when so much was broken. An unforgivable vanity, if truth be told. No one should have the arrogance to imagine such a thing. But then again there is that name of ours.
Chiku Red. Chiku Akinya. Great-granddaughter of Eunice Akinya. Senge Dongma, the lion-faced one, mother of us all.
I steeled myself. It was good to have a purpose in life.
Also by Alastair Reynolds from Gollancz:
Novels
Revelation Space
Redemption Ark
Absolution Gap
Chasm City
Century Rain
Pushing Ice
The Prefect
House of Suns
Terminal World
Blue Remembered Earth
Short Story Collections:
Diamond Dogs, Turquoise Days
Galactic North
Zima Blue
A Gollancz eBook
Copyright © Alastair Reynolds 2013
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The right of Alastair Reynolds to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
First published in Great Britain in 2013 by
Gollancz
The Orion Publishing Group Ltd
Orion House
5 Upper Saint Martin’s Lane
London, WC2H 9EA
An Hachette UK Company
This eBook first published in 2013 by Gollancz.
A CIP catalogue record for this book
is available from the British Library.
ISBN 978 0 575 09048 4
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Alastair Reynolds, On the Steel Breeze
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