overshadowed the ground beneath.
The Ka River was wide enough here for the western shore to have become little more than a dark line on the far horizon. The nearer shore was lined with the primitive-looking sealed domes and
glittering biomes of small towns that looked like they had hardly changed since the days of the pioneers.
She glanced aft to see the rest of the barges strung out along the river behind them. Dios lay a hundred kilometres further downriver, yet she found it easy to imagine that, if she squinted hard
enough, she could see the steep cliffs against which the Ship of the Covenant rested.
She remembered the excitement in her youth when she had once looked forward to this day – and the slowly building dread that had come to replace it. These two emotions merged and clashed
in her thoughts. She had always wanted to visit Dios, as so many pilgrims did, but to do so under the present circumstances would be at the cost of her life.
She fanned her fingers, then stirred them through the air to activate the Tabernacle. A patch of air before her darkened, becoming opaque to her view.
She conjured up a real-time image of the Ship of the Covenant. Bridges were constructed all around the hull of the ancient craft, interconnecting with ramps and platforms built up the cliff face
on either side. A number of buildings, part research establishment and part religious retreat, had been constructed around that portion of the ship that rested on the ground, and all of these in
turn were surrounded by constantly patrolled walls and guarded gates. The Demarchy was extremely keen to protect its investment.
She heard a noise behind her, and guessed she had company. The image before her rippled and faded, and she turned to see Karl Petrova standing just inside the entrance to the observation
deck.
He closed the glass doors behind him and came towards her. ‘Are you ready?’ he asked, his voice kept low. ‘It’s very nearly time.’
She swallowed hard. ‘Surely the banquet is still hours away?’
‘This is the last chance we’ll have to speak to each other until afterwards,’ he explained, reaching out to tidy a lock of her hair that had come loose.
‘Everything’s in place.’
She thought of that vial of poison, and felt a thrill of terror mixed with excitement lancing through her. ‘I won’t fail you,’ she said, so quietly that she could barely be
heard above the crashing of the waves on the nearby shore. He reached out and caressed her waist. ‘You know that I love you, don’t you?’
Gabrielle took a step back from Karl, eyes widening as she glanced instinctively towards the doors behind him. They were both hidden by curtains from the direct view of his guards, but still . .
.
‘Karl,’ she warned, ‘if anyone heard what you just said—’
‘But they didn’t,’ said Karl, his tone cool and confident, ‘and they won’t. You remember everything you have to do?’
She nodded. ‘I remember,’ she said, her voice sounding stronger this time.
‘Say it again,’ he coaxed.
She stared up at him. ‘I remember,’ she repeated, her tone almost defiant. Then: ‘I love you too, Karl – more than you can imagine.’
He smiled at that, but again there was something unreadable in his eyes.
TEN
Gabrielle
‘To our Speaker-Elect,’ said Thijs, raising his glass high in a toast. Its contents sparkled, reflecting the flames of the fireplace that took up most of one wall
of the Grand Barge’s banqueting hall.
He then turned his gaze from the assembled dignitaries of the Demarchy towards Gabrielle herself. Their eyes met briefly before she looked quickly away.
‘To Gabrielle,’ confirmed Thijs, ‘on the eve of her Ascension.’
More glasses were raised, their contents as dark and red as arterial blood. There were perhaps thirty men and women here altogether, arranged on either side of the long dining table carved from
out of a canopy tree’s taproot. Gabrielle sat at the head of the
The Ka River was wide enough here for the western shore to have become little more than a dark line on the far horizon. The nearer shore was lined with the primitive-looking sealed domes and
glittering biomes of small towns that looked like they had hardly changed since the days of the pioneers.
She glanced aft to see the rest of the barges strung out along the river behind them. Dios lay a hundred kilometres further downriver, yet she found it easy to imagine that, if she squinted hard
enough, she could see the steep cliffs against which the Ship of the Covenant rested.
She remembered the excitement in her youth when she had once looked forward to this day – and the slowly building dread that had come to replace it. These two emotions merged and clashed
in her thoughts. She had always wanted to visit Dios, as so many pilgrims did, but to do so under the present circumstances would be at the cost of her life.
She fanned her fingers, then stirred them through the air to activate the Tabernacle. A patch of air before her darkened, becoming opaque to her view.
She conjured up a real-time image of the Ship of the Covenant. Bridges were constructed all around the hull of the ancient craft, interconnecting with ramps and platforms built up the cliff face
on either side. A number of buildings, part research establishment and part religious retreat, had been constructed around that portion of the ship that rested on the ground, and all of these in
turn were surrounded by constantly patrolled walls and guarded gates. The Demarchy was extremely keen to protect its investment.
She heard a noise behind her, and guessed she had company. The image before her rippled and faded, and she turned to see Karl Petrova standing just inside the entrance to the observation
deck.
He closed the glass doors behind him and came towards her. ‘Are you ready?’ he asked, his voice kept low. ‘It’s very nearly time.’
She swallowed hard. ‘Surely the banquet is still hours away?’
‘This is the last chance we’ll have to speak to each other until afterwards,’ he explained, reaching out to tidy a lock of her hair that had come loose.
‘Everything’s in place.’
She thought of that vial of poison, and felt a thrill of terror mixed with excitement lancing through her. ‘I won’t fail you,’ she said, so quietly that she could barely be
heard above the crashing of the waves on the nearby shore. He reached out and caressed her waist. ‘You know that I love you, don’t you?’
Gabrielle took a step back from Karl, eyes widening as she glanced instinctively towards the doors behind him. They were both hidden by curtains from the direct view of his guards, but still . .
.
‘Karl,’ she warned, ‘if anyone heard what you just said—’
‘But they didn’t,’ said Karl, his tone cool and confident, ‘and they won’t. You remember everything you have to do?’
She nodded. ‘I remember,’ she said, her voice sounding stronger this time.
‘Say it again,’ he coaxed.
She stared up at him. ‘I remember,’ she repeated, her tone almost defiant. Then: ‘I love you too, Karl – more than you can imagine.’
He smiled at that, but again there was something unreadable in his eyes.
TEN
Gabrielle
‘To our Speaker-Elect,’ said Thijs, raising his glass high in a toast. Its contents sparkled, reflecting the flames of the fireplace that took up most of one wall
of the Grand Barge’s banqueting hall.
He then turned his gaze from the assembled dignitaries of the Demarchy towards Gabrielle herself. Their eyes met briefly before she looked quickly away.
‘To Gabrielle,’ confirmed Thijs, ‘on the eve of her Ascension.’
More glasses were raised, their contents as dark and red as arterial blood. There were perhaps thirty men and women here altogether, arranged on either side of the long dining table carved from
out of a canopy tree’s taproot. Gabrielle sat at the head of the
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