“The god was alone at first, though she found she could change things in her plane to make herself comfortable and amuse herself with her interference in the affairs of humans. Her loneliness didn’t last as more self-aware humans died and translated. This first crop of human spirits went mad, and the Nameless God realised the void was frightening. She fashioned an antechamber to be like Earth, a facsimile that allowed human spirits to recognise that they were dead and to tolerate the vast nothingness. When they were ready, they would move on to the void without losing the sanity.”

“This is a fairy tale.”

“We’re about to die. What would you rather listen to?

“The more humans died, the more spirits in the plane. Some don’t know they’re dead, or they miss life on Earth and pop back from time to time. Hell is empty. And all the devils are here. They manifest as those gaps in reality you call Lambers.”

“So, ghosts.”

“Not ghosts.”

“Why does this mean you’re not afraid of death?”

“Because it’s not the end. I know where I’m going when this body fails. I’ve visited, remember? My body isn’t stuck in any particular plane of spacetime.”

“Will you find me? If we die?”

“Don’t know. It, um, depends on how well you please me in this plane.”

Peole is the first to wake. “I’ve looked at the videos. Your friend vanished. I don’t know how to accept that.”

“She was a Lamber,” says Fin. “She’s moved from this particular plane of spacetime.”

He leaves mission control and heads home for the first time since the mission began.

Chapter Forty-five

Bloodroot: Shell

Shell switches to manual and slows right down till she can get a closer eyeball on the object.

“Control, visual confirms it is indeed a lifepod. Looks well-preserved with no impact damage. There is some ice on the hull. I will begin capture.”

The small pod spins gently as it hurtles around Bloodroot. Shell accelerates slightly to match speed then deploys a space net. It’s based on designs that Shell remembers from training, on Earth; nets used for space debris that threatened the entire space programme back then.

The net misses entirely, so Shell changes attitude slightly, then tries again. Success. She draws the pod into the hold.

“Control, suiting up to check the pod now. Shuttle on auto.”

“Roger that.”

The control indicators on the pod are still functional and many lights are green. Shell hates this part. Anticipation and dread in equal measures. Too much ice to see inside, but she starts the opening sequence. The hold is repressurised, but nobody knows for sure how the insides of the pods hold up, or if any dangerous gases built up inside. She runs a diagnostic and waits.

“Control, we have a live one,” she says.