'Coming up on one full revolution, Ace. No sign of slowing, either.'

'Right. You've got observation duty. Sing out every revolution. Yukio, alert Belial Base of our situation. Christine how much do you know about the Bridge? Can you estimate how many turns it could take before it snaps?'

As Yukio Nakaguchi murmured in the background, Christine said, 'Ace, I'm sorry, I don't know. Tech studies aren't my speciality. I'm a psychologist.'

'Fine. Is there anyone here from Technical?'

Kosiana Kistasami nodded inside her suit. A fringe of hair plaited with tiny Belial clay beads bobbed gently in the reduced gravity, obscuring her dark skin and brooding eyes. 'The problem is, Ace, that n.o.body really knows. We've spent years examining the Bridge systems, but for all the good it's done us we might have been blowing bubbles. We do know the Bridge is made from an extruded monofilament of trisilicate which has been woven into a tube, but as to its strength well, theoretically it shouldn't even exist. It should have collapsed under its own weight before it was even anch.o.r.ed.'

Ace frowned. 'So much for Technical.' She seemed to be lost in memories of her own for a moment.

'Second revolution starting now.'

The Lift shuddered.

'Helmets down.'

There were five clicks followed by the rising hum of internal systems powering up.

'Um... I think I may have a problem here,' Yukio said with a panicky laugh.

Jesus realized Yukio's problem straight away. Rebelling against the bland uniformity of the base, and to the amus.e.m.e.nt of many of his colleagues, Yukio had grown a bushy, spade*shaped beard in emulation of his cricketing hero, W.G. Grace. And he couldn't close his helmet over it.

Ace said without a pause, 'Christine, help Yukio get his helmet latched. Kosi, Lars, go round the Lift. Check the integrity. Take stress meters with you. Don't dawdle but I want a thorough check.'

'Third revolution starting now,' Jesus chipped in as the technicians moved to obey Ace's instruction. He felt his heart thumping inside his chest. How could Ace stay so calm? As far as he knew, she had received no training for this type of situation. Nonetheless, she seemed to be coping with it the best of all of them.

Fria como aqua de nieve: as cold as ice*water.

'Any sign of slowing yet?'

'Sorry, no.' Jesus could hear faint noises through his s.p.a.cesuit's external pickups. The structure of the Lift was creaking and the Bridge tw.a.n.ged like an overstretched wire.

'Ace! We have trouble now!' That was Lars, his accent thickening with the fear which now drove them all. Ace was already moving in his direction. Jesus blinked and recovered the target star. No it was... d.a.m.n. Where the h.e.l.l was it?

Lucifer's atmospheric corona was blotting out the stars again, and voices were babbling in his ears.

' this is really embarra.s.sing '

' just latch your helmet, Yukio. Everything'll be fine as long as you just '

' I'm getting a stress factor you wouldn't believe, here. The internal wall. The external wall. Everyd.a.m.nwhere '

' you check again, is good idea. Perhaps the meters, they lose calibration '

it's the d.a.m.n wall wall we're losing ' we're losing '

' I want everyone in the centre of the chamber '

' fiddling with my helmet! I'm sure sure if I just ' if I just '

' we're losing it, we're definitely '

' I think think I've got it. I I've got it. I think think I can ' I can '

Jesus didn't have time to blink. The wall tore open, rips spreading around the torus as the air rushed outwards. Yukio gave a choking scream as the pressure within his suit forced his helmet back up over the latches. The scream didn't last long in the newly formed vacuum. Christine gave a yell of surprise as a spray of blood erupted from Yukio's eyes, ears and mouth. Crystallizing in the sudden deadly cold, it engulfed her helmet in a spray of pink ice. She staggered backwards, straight into the whipsawing edge of the monofilament shield, gasping with surprise and pain when the molecule*thin blade sliced through the toughened material of her s.p.a.cesuit, neatly removing the arm she had automatically put out to protect herself. The arm drifted free, trailing ribbons of freezing blood and sinew.

The sudden vacuum pulled Jesus towards the ragged*edged hole and expelled him along with a mess of loose trash, a hailstorm of frozen blood and Christine's arm. He was tumbling so fast that the stars became blurred circles of light around him.

A lump of frozen vapour and blood b.u.mped momentarily against his visor before drifting off into the darkness. He recognized the spade*shaped ma.s.s of black hair projecting from the lump and began to scream.

'Jesus, shut up! I know you're drifting. You'll be okay. I need to think.'

'Christ, what about Yukio? And Christine... Her arm 'Forget about Yukio. And don't worry about Christine. Just get yourself under control and get back here now.'

Jesus took a deep breath. He felt like he was going to be sick. He chinned a switch and felt the autodoc press a needle pad against his neck. His stomach settled immediately. 'On my way.'

'Wicked. See you in a minute.'

Jesus chinned in the onboard systems. 's.p.a.cesuit twelve: activate memory guidance. Return to source using minimum fuel trajectory.'

There was a momentary hesitation before the s.p.a.cesuit confirmed his instruction. A gentle pressure in the small of his back told him that the thruster pack had fired. The stars began to slow from their wild dervish dance to a stately waltz. Then he was facing the Bridge.

'Ace, are you reading me?'

'Loud and clear. Turn your gain down a bit or stop shouting.'

Jesus adjusted a control. 'I can see both ways along the Bridge.'

'What's the damage?'

'Difficult to tell. Both ends appear to be fixed, but it's vibrating like a violin string.'

'How bad?'

'Ace, I'm half a kilometre away. If I can see the movement, it's got to be bad, right?'

Ace swore.

'And that's not all,' he added. 'It looks from here like there are some frayed areas on the Bridge where fragments from the Lift sliced across it. They could rip at any time. The Bridge could unravel like an old pullover.'

Ace swore again. Jesus wondered where she'd learned words like that. 'Can you see the Lift?' she said eventually.

His gaze travelled along the length of the Bridge. The Lift was a small doughnut with the Bridge threading through the hole. A cloud of debris surrounded it. 'Looks okay. You're tilted slightly, and spinning, but you're still attached. How's everyone there? Is Christine ?'

'No. The suit sealed off her arm. She lost a fair bit of blood, but the autodoc is medicating her now. If we're lucky, she'll make it.'

'Yukio wasn't lucky, was he?'

'Yukio was a b.l.o.o.d.y idiot.'

'Christ, what a mess. What do you think happened?'

'How the h.e.l.l do I know? Now get a move on. We still don't know if it's over yet.'

'Right.' It would take several minutes at least to get back to the Bridge. With nothing to do in the meantime, Jesus tried to maintain a rational equilibrium by observing his surroundings. The observations might come in useful later. If there was a later.

Below the rotating Lift, the hot glare of Lucifer's atmosphere, backlit by the sun, formed a corona around the lower moon.

According to Tiw, the journey down to Moloch should have taken slightly less than two hours. During the course of that time, the light from Lucifer's atmosphere would have grown in strength until it blotted out the stars and enveloped both Bridge and Lift in a flaming glare. Then they would have entered the conical shadow cast by the moon, and the stars would have become visible again for a brief time before the Lift sank beneath the surface itself and came to a standstill, its ma.s.sive kinetic energy somehow conducted away from the lower terminus and stored in a way that hijo de la puta hijo de la puta Alex Bannen would have killed to learn. Alex Bannen would have killed to learn.

A beep somewhere behind his head told Jesus that he was nearing the Bridge.

Twenty*five metres away, he disengaged the autoreturn sequence and navigated himself to a point level with the outside rim of the rotating Lift. The jagged hole through which he'd been propelled some minutes before now rushed past his face once every minute or so. The ragged edges of the hole glinted sharply, and Jesus knew that any failed attempt to enter the Lift would be likely to result in his being sliced to ribbons within a matter of seconds. He had neither the fuel nor the skill to match the rotational speed of the vehicle. Yet what other choices did he have?

He called Ace and explained the situation. 'I'm not a s.p.a.ceman, Ace. Got any ideas?'

He could see a figure within the Lift detach itself from the group and glance quickly in his direction.

'Yeah. The Lift's wide, so the angular velocity is higher on the outside. Jet up over the top and attach your safety line to the Bridge, then abseil across the top of the Lift when you've matched spin. When you get to the hole, we'll grab you and haul you in.'

'Won't work, Ace. The Bridge is smooth, nothing to attach to. And it's too wide to loop the line around; I won't have enough slack left to lower myself to the hole.' Jesus sucked in a deep breath. 'There's only one thing for it. I'm just going to have to try a perpendicular approach and hope I can time my arrival to a point when the hole is pa.s.sing in front of me.'

A new voice said, 'You could try an approach tangential to the curve of the Lift. That way it might be easier to match relative velocities for a few seconds. Thing is, if you miss...'

'I risk drifting off into s.p.a.ce. Thanks Kosi. I'll stick with the perpendicular approach.'

Ace spoke again. 'All right. Give us a moment to clear a s.p.a.ce for you and then pick your own time. We'll keep our fingers crossed.'

'Thanks.'

'See you in a minute.'

I hope so.

Jesus quickly gave the suit what he hoped were precise instructions, waiting until he was sure of the hole's period of rotation before whispering, 'Activate command sequence... Now.'

There was a familiar pressure on his back. The Lift began to speed towards him until he was only twenty metres away.

Fifteen.

The hole vanished around the arc of the vehicle.

Ten metres. Five.

The wall was rushing by in front of him now, gla.s.sy and smooth, offering no grip should he miss his intended target.

Four metres.

The hole was nowhere in wait a minute! There it was!

Jesus grimaced. The hole was moving too slowly. He wasn't going to make it.

Three metres.

Two metres.

'Sorry Ace. I don't think I'm going to...'

There was a sudden bang as he crashed against the Lift, and a sc.r.a.ping sensation as he began to roll along the surface. Billowing sheets of material ballooned out to meet him: the edges of the hole, deceptively soft looking but with lethal edges. The Lift spun beneath him like a sickening carousel ride. The red glare from Lucifer seemed to engulf him, and the combined effects of yaw and pitch on his inner ear overcame the antinausea medication.

When he had finished vomiting, Jesus realized there was a firm pressure on his arms and legs. Ace, Kosi and Lars were holding him down.

'I reckon we can let him go now. How do you feel?' Ace asked.

'Embarra.s.sed. And sticky.'

Lars and Kosi laughed. Ace did not.

Jesus sat up. The interior of the Lift, even in this wrecked condition, had never looked so good. 'Thought I was a goner. How'd I get in here?'

Lars pointed down at Jesus's legs. He followed the mathematician's gesture and saw that his legs were completely tangled in a flapping web of cloth.

'Ace, she breaks open one of the store's canisters. It is full of bedsheets, yes? She makes net, reels you in like big fish.' He glanced sideways at Ace. 'That is right? You say fish, yes?'

Jesus shook his head in amazement. 'But what about the monofilament I saw? Surely it would have torn the sheets to pieces, synthetic or otherwise?'

'Naw. Kosi here showed us how to grab the edges of the hole with equipment clamps and fold them so the material wasn't dangerous. What you saw wasn't the monofilament, it was the sheets.'

Jesus smiled gratefully. 'You managed to organize all this in the few minutes I was out there? I'm impressed.'

'Minutes?' Ace laughed outright. 'You were out there over an hour, mate. We thought you'd got bored with our company.'

Jesus shook his head tiredly.

As the others began to discuss survival options, Jesus found his mind drifting. Adrenalin withdrawal made him introspective and sleepy. He turned over and tried to relax, but found himself looking downward through the metal grille which the Eden team had welded across the curved Lift surfaces as a floor, wondering what kind of anatomy would have been suited to use the original surface. It was crazy. There were no constants. Or rather, the only constant was... well, change change. Jesus shook his head. The aliens, whoever they'd been, were dead and gone, a million years or more. They were history, and he doubted he would ever truly know them. The thought saddened him. They must have been such wonderful beings, and now even the legacy of their environment was being rewritten by the humans, changed with every curved floor covered by a flat grille, every piece of art ripped from the walls and studied out of context, every subtle nuance of s.p.a.ce filled with metal and plastic, neural net cabinets, stores, machinery, even people.

Jesus felt a gentle sense of irony steal over him. They'd come here to learn, but it seemed all they would ever learn was how to alter that which they had no possibility of understanding into something so familiar there was no point in their understanding it.

A familiar voice came over the suit's comm*system. 'Feel cold. Arm hurts.'

Ace said, 'I know, Christine.' She switched channels and continued, 'Lars, could you administer another tranquillizer for me?'

'No problem.' The mathematician propelled himself towards the p.r.o.ne figure some yards away.

Ace turned her attention to Jesus. 'I've tried to communicate with Belial Base. I don't know whether they're receiving or not, but I'm getting nothing back. We're on our own. Both Kosi and Lars figure that we're a lot closer to Moloch than to Belial, but we're going to have to get there under our own steam. You're the environment specialist. I need an idea from you. One that'll save our lives. You up for it, or what?'

Jesus began to untangle his legs. His mind was whirling. Ace was right. They had to do something, but what? If they stayed where they were they were dead for certain. Before he could reply, Lars called for attention and he followed Ace and Kosi across to Christine's rec.u.mbent body. Lars was kneeling beside her, cradling the psychologist's truncated left arm in his suit gauntlets. He lifted up his hand. Tiny ruby globules were frozen to it.