Terra's World (24 page)
T
he asteroid had no name. It was not marked on any star-charts.
It drifted among its fellows in the belt of rocks and ice which circled the star 62-13-440-09. Had anyone ever thought to take any energy readings of the asteroid belt, they might have noticed that one of the larger bodies was giving off a signal indicating some sort of fusion reactor buried deep below its surface. But no one had ever taken any such readings – there was no conceivable reason why anyone would.
The fusion reactor in question had been installed many eras previously by the victors of the war on the nearby planet of Quexis between the Tranta people and their rival nation, the Hifficks.
The plucky Hifficks had triumphed over the Tranta aggressors (that was how the history of Quexis recorded it, anyway; it is curious how often, when the history of a war is written, it’s the vile aggressors who lost, and the plucky defenders who prevailed). The defeated Tranta leader, Yakus Yakus the Undefeatable, had been sentenced to life imprisonment in an asteroid gaol where the automated life support mechanisms (powered by the aforementioned fusion reactor) were designed to keep him alive, in total isolation, for as long as possible. When Yakus Yakus eventually died, many
MANY
years later, the asteroid prison had been abandoned.
Few nowadays knew it had ever existed.
Fewer still knew its location.
And no more than a handful knew that it had recently been reactivated, and was occupied once more.
The asteroid’s current inhabitant had been there for just over two years, or nearly two orbits, as he would measure it.
The robot guards who brought his food, cleaned his cell and monitored his health did not speak to him. They had no speech circuits and, in any case, there was nothing to say.
The only voice to be heard in that place was the voice of the prisoner.
It resounded through the stone corridors, night and day – in as much as night or day can be said to exist in such a place.
The robot guards would come and go; they could hear the prisoner’s words, but they did not react or respond in any way.
Still the voice went on. Quiet only when the prisoner fell into fitful, restless sleep. As soon as he awoke, the words would begin again:
- Occluded Ones hear me; Occluded Ones guide me; Occluded Ones deliver me. Occluded Ones hear me; Occluded Ones guide me; Occluded Ones deliver me. Occluded Ones hear me; Occluded Ones guide me; Occluded Ones deliver me . . .
Nothing ever interrupted the prisoner’s prayer. Until that night, if such a thing as night can be said to exist in such a place.
The prisoner had heard no voice but his own for nearly two orbits. But now he heard a voice, as clear as any he had ever heard.
-
WE HEAR YOU, SK’SHK
,
said the voice.
NOW LISTEN TO US
.
Sk’shk clasped his hands together in gratitude and humility. He bowed his head, and closed his eyes.
And listened.
Thanks to Simon, Charlie, Genn, Sophie and the rest of the Gollancz massive; thanks as always to Fthf— er, I mean Greta, and Astrid (pickle). Many thanks to Ken & Liz Bartlett for continued use of the increasingly legendary Barn, and to Hilary Bartlett for so many things. Thanks to Budgie for editorial input and output; thanks to Mum & Dad and Our Rachel. Thanks to Ian Wilson, the galaxy’s most patient manager. Thanks again to Neil Himself Gaiman, from whom all blessings flow, and most of all thanks to Clara Benn, without whom . . . doesn’t bear contemplation.
And, of course, huge thanks to everyone who read and enjoyed the first book, and
ESPECIALLY
those of you who then persuaded a friend to do likewise. You’re my favourites.
M x
A Gollancz eBook
Copyright © Mitch Benn 2014
All rights reserved.
The right of Mitch Benn 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 2014 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 2014 by Gollancz.
A
CIP
catalogue record for this book
is available from the British Library.
ISBN
978 0 575 13215 3
All characters and events in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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