Sam took a cushion near the door, next to Skadz. Prumble sat opposite them, with Kip sandwiched between the giant man and the wall.

“Damn that tea smells good,” Skadz said, pouring a cup.

“Good enough to mask my flatulence,” Prumble said. He winked at Samantha. “Kip, speak. I’ll sample these buns for dangerous poisons while you tell your tale.”

“As Mr. Prumble said,” Kip began, “I have a position in the control tower within Nightcliff, and thus access to—”

Prumble held up his hand and Kip went silent. “Christ, man, skip to the good part.”

Kip gave a shy nod, his eyes downcast. “Of course. Well, you see, after the schism between Mr. Blackfield and Neil Platz, I—”

“Skyler’s alive,” Prumble said over the man. “There’s a new space elevator over in Brazil, and Skyler’s there. They’re all there, the runaways, the traitors.”

“I … holy shit,” Sam said. She’d known somehow, but it had always felt more like a childish hope than firm conviction, like a kid who clings to the idea of Santa Claus long after the other children have accepted reality and moved on.

“It gets better,” Skadz said. “Well, it gets crazier.”

“Oh?”

Kip looked to Prumble, as if seeking permission to speak. This time Prumble nodded at him and sat back.

“Blackfield is there, too,” Kip said. “He took Platz Station and joined up with the colony, along with everyone aboard, after the Jakes tried and failed to take over the station.”

He let the words sink in for a moment, and Sam felt the reality Grillo and his people had crafted shatter and fall away. For all of Grillo’s supposed virtue, he wasn’t above a little propaganda to suit his cause. But Skyler and Blackfield, together? On the same side? That she found impossible to believe.

“That ain’t the crazy bit,” Skadz said.

“It’s pretty fucking crazy,” Sam said.

“Well, it ain’t it.”

“In a few days,” Kip said, “Grillo and his people will begin something called ‘Project Sanctify.’ ”

Samantha stared at him. “I don’t like it already.”

“Grillo, his followers, see the Darwin Elevator as a gift from God,” Kip said. “They’re now aware of the Elevator in Brazil, and as you can probably guess they’re not thrilled with the idea.”

“Suddenly our Elevator ain’t so special,” Skadz said. “Bible didn’t say ‘Jacob’s Ladders,’ yeah?”

Prumble leaned in. “Grillo went to all this trouble to steal the Darwin Elevator from Blackfield, to purify it, you could say, only to find the job’s only half-done.”

“Fuck,” Sam said.

“Indeed.”

“So Grillo’s going to try to capture that one, as well.”

“No,” Kip said. “From what I hear, Project Sanctify is about eliminating the colony, and the other Elevator.”

“Seems they think it’s the devil’s work,” Skadz said. “Or some shit. The Anti-Elevator.”

“Okay,” Sam said slowly. “You’re right. That’s officially crazy.”

“Well, Sammy, Kip has even more than that,” Skadz said.

An apologetic look crossed the thin man’s face when Sam turned her full attention to him.

“Tell her the rest,” Prumble said to him.

Kip nodded. “Sanctify is bigger than that. Arrangements are being made to transfer personnel on Darwin’s stations down here. Soon only the Jacobite faithful will be allowed in orbit. Anything else is considered blasphemous, apparently.” Before Sam could say anything, Kip went on, gaining his voice the more he spoke. “And in the coming weeks, decrees will be announced. Laws to govern Darwin, the city. All of us.”

“Jacobite laws,” Prumble said. “You can imagine how liberal they are.”

Skadz plucked a white bun from the plate. “We’re going to go from anarchy to religious fascism. Extreme to bloody fucking extreme, Sammy.”

She felt a weight begin to press on her shoulders. A burden of guilt, and unspoken accusation. She’d been complicit in Grillo’s rise. She’d helped him deliver on his vision of a prosperous Darwin, and had closed her eyes to what that would mean in the end. Theocracy. Russell Blackfield was no doubt ruthless and dictatorial, but for the most part he’d let people go about their lives. As long as nothing threatened the Elevator, he’d left Darwin to its own devices. It was a shitty way to run the last bastion of humanity, but the idea of living under a totalitarian cult of religious freaks held even less appeal.

The three men were staring at her, waiting. None of them needed to voice the question; she could see it on all three faces. Kip she couldn’t care less about, but to see that accusation on Prumble’s face, on Skadz’s, cut like a knife.

“I’m on your side,” she said. “I’ve been an idiot, yes, but I’m on your side.”

Prumble and Skadz exchanged a glance. “Happy to hear you say that, Sammy,” Skadz said.

“So,” she said, “I assume we’re not just here to gossip. What’s the plan? Run for Brazil? Try to stop Grillo?”

“Whoa, now hang on,” Skadz said. “Kip isn’t done. There’s more.”

“Goddamn, guys. I don’t know if I can handle more,” she said.

Now Kip leaned in. His expression changed. He glanced at each of them with sudden familiarity, as if he’d gone from outsider to conspirator. Near enough the truth, Sam realized.

“I still have contact with Platz Station,” he said. “A friend there. Our messages are relayed through … it doesn’t matter, the point is that exchanging information is difficult. Sporadic, terse.”

Prumble cut in again. “It’s the Builders, Samantha. They’re back.”

Kip nodded, unfazed at having his big announcement stolen by the big man. “My contact doesn’t know much, just that the ship is ‘huge,’ and almost here.”

“Safe to assume,” Skadz said, “that Grillo is going to want to be on top of that shit this time around.”

Sam found herself nodding. “Equally safe to assume,” she said, “that we’d rather it be Skyler, and Tania Sharma? I’m guessing she’s with him?”

“She runs things over there,” Kip said.

“Wonder if Sky’s getting a piece of that action,” Skadz mused.

“Mmm,” Prumble said. “There’s a mental image. Lucky bastard.”

“Knock it off, perverts,” Sam said.

Prumble mocked surprise. “We meant a piece of the leadership!”

“Right, and I suppose you think he should grab on to that leadership by the ponytail and ride it till sunrise.” She let their chuckles fade until the tension rolled back into the room like a dense fog. “So, what are we talking about? The four of us form a ragtag band of freedom fighters to overthrow Grillo and his freak brigade? A plucky group of misfits that stage another coup in Darwin because third time’s a charm?”

Prumble shook his head. “I had in mind something more like agents provocateurs,” he said. “We can make the man’s life very difficult. Very difficult indeed.”

Samantha thought of her time aboard Gateway with Kelly. There’d been a visceral satisfaction from playing spoiler there, mucking about behind the scenes. The thought of Kelly filled her with a sudden sorrow. One way or another, rescuing her needed to be part of the plan. Sam filed that for another day.

“In other words,” Skadz said soberly, “give Skyler a fighting chance when the shit hits the fan.”

“And if we fail?” she asked.

Skadz grinned. “Don’t know about you wags, but if the freak train won’t stop, I’m getting the bloody hell off.”

Chapter 50

Black Level Station

7.MAR.2285

THE BUILDER SHIP settled into high geostationary orbit above North Africa, and its size defied imagination.

Even viewed through the remote repair craft, Tania had to rely on radar to confirm the dimensions. She glanced at those numbers every few minutes, hoping they were just confused, hoping the LIDAR readings were somehow being baffled by the surface material of the massive vessel.

The numbers didn’t change. Roughly six kilometers from the tapered tip that pointed down toward Earth up to the bulbous end. In shape it resembled a teardrop pointed in the wrong direction—the vessel had flipped around in the last days before arrival—except that the nose of the spherical end did jut out slightly.

There were many protrusions. This surprised Tania, as neither of the previous shell ships had similar features. The extensions were tucked under the main bulb, pointing down toward Earth. Each spike looked small and flimsy compared to the hulking vessel, until Tania estimated the length of the longest among them at half a kilometer. The sizes varied, and if she flipped the image the extensions looked like a cityscape, unlit and dead like the great cities of Earth.

The drone continued to drift in closer. Tim sat in front of Tania in Black Level’s control room, operating the automated craft from a touchscreen. He tapped a bright red icon and on the screen Tania could see a puff of exhaust shoot out toward the alien ship. Braking thrust. The craft slowed a bit, now five hundred kilometers away from mass.

“Bring it to a stop at fifty klicks,” Tania said.

“Okay.”

Off to one side of the room, Greg and Marcus huddled in front of another screen, studying high-resolution shots. They panned and zoomed the images on their monitor, talking quietly between themselves.

A pang of nostalgia warmed Tania. She’d spent many long nights working in this room, studying gamma-ray bursts or impact events on moons in the outer solar system. It felt good to be back here, engaged in science again. She’d grown tired of waiting on pins and needles for word from Skyler. He and his companions were still inside that dome. They’d failed to emerge in time for the event date, and with each additional hour they remained inside, Tania found her hope fading like a dying fire. She’d be stirring embers soon.

It also felt good to be away from Melville and the proximity to Russell Blackfield. Away from Platz Station, too. Zane continued to recover, but their conversations had been awkward since they’d read Neil’s final letter.

Tania had left all that behind for now. Everything else could wait.

“Any signs of activity?” she asked Greg and Marcus.

Without looking back, Greg dismissed her with a wave. “All quiet.”

“Signs of cratering on the bulbous end,” Marcus said.

Greg snorted. “That’s what she … um, never mind.”

Tania sighed in frustration and turned to the main screen again. Cratering? That didn’t mesh with the Builders’ previous smooth-surfaced arrivals. It made sense, though. If this craft had crossed the vast distance between stars at high speed some erosion was to be expected. Hell, total annihilation was the expected result, without some kind of protective aura.

She smiled privately. Even now, with the auras in Darwin and Belém, plus the miniature versions projected by the towers, she still couldn’t put herself in the mindset of what the Builders were technically capable of. Cratering, though, implied they weren’t gods. Even such an advanced race couldn’t send such a large ship this far completely unscathed. She found a little comfort in that.

The drone continued toward the ship at 500 kilometers per hour. Already the object dominated the screen, and the drone was still an hour away from reaching it.

The lack of activity bothered her. No third Elevator, no stream of packages racing down to the planet below, no sign of the invasion fleet that Neil Platz once predicted. Nothing. Why so big, then? Tania still had no idea what the Builders planned to do, but she couldn’t imagine sending such a massive object across the vast emptiness for no reason at all.

“Good thing it slowed down,” Tim said. “That thing would have demolished the planet if it had kept coming at its initial speed.”

“They already demolished the planet,” she shot back, followed by a squeeze on his shoulder to assure him she knew what he’d meant.

When first detected, the alien craft had been approaching Earth at incredible speed, already decelerating. They’d not spotted it early enough to know the top speed, but when their scope did find the slowing vessel its velocity was a breathtaking 50,000 kilometers per second. More amazing to Tania was that the method of thrust used to slow the ship, whatever it might have been, produced no visible light. The other detectors were off the charts, but in visible light the gigantic ship had been nearly invisible.

An hour passed. Tania stood, impassive, unable to sit or rest. Part of her wished the tiny station had a gun range. It had been one of the great surprises of her life, days earlier, to find out how mind-clearing target practice could be. Absently she rubbed at her palm, still sore from where the pistol had recoiled against her before she’d learned how to absorb the impact. Karl’s instruction had been remarkably good. She had to force herself to blink now and then when her eyes ached from staring at the display. The ship grew and grew until its surface filled the entire screen, and still it was sixty kilometers away from the drone.

Tim hit the braking thrusters again. He’d programmed the sequence, and sat back now as the drone’s computer released pulses of exhaust every few seconds, until it came to a stop. A fuel indicator in the corner of the main monitor indicated that just over 80 percent remained. Plenty to circle the vessel a few times before coming back.