Back Far from the Light of Heaven
Chapters (65)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. Chapter One
  5. Ten Years Later…
  6. Chapter Two
  7. Chapter Three
  8. Fin
  9. Chapter Four
  10. Chapter Five
  11. Salvo
  12. Chapter Six
  13. Chapter Seven
  14. Shell
  15. Fin
  16. Chapter Eight
  17. Chapter Nine
  18. Chapter Ten
  19. Chapter Eleven
  20. Chapter Twelve
  21. Chapter Thirteen
  22. Beko
  23. Chapter Fourteen
  24. Chapter Fifteen
  25. Chapter Sixteen
  26. Chapter Seventeen
  27. Chapter Eighteen
  28. Awe
  29. Chapter Nineteen
  30. Chapter Twenty
  31. Chapter Twenty-one
  32. Chapter Twenty-two
  33. Chapter Twenty-three
  34. Chapter Twenty-four
  35. Chapter Twenty-five
  36. Chapter Twenty-six
  37. Chapter Twenty-seven
  38. Chapter Twenty-eight
  39. Chapter Twenty-nine
  40. Chapter Thirty
  41. Chapter Thirty-one
  42. Chapter Thirty-two
  43. Chapter Thirty-three
  44. Chapter Thirty-four
  45. Chapter Thirty-five
  46. Chapter Thirty-six
  47. Chapter Thirty-seven
  48. Chapter Thirty-eight
  49. Chapter Thirty-nine
  50. Shell
  51. Chapter Forty
  52. Chapter Forty-one
  53. Chapter Forty-two
  54. Chapter Forty-three
  55. Chapter Forty-four
  56. Chapter Forty-five
  57. Chapter Forty-six
  58. Chapter Forty-seven
  59. Afterword
  60. Acknowledgements
  61. Discover More
  62. extras
  63. meet the author
  64. A Preview of "Nophek Gloss"
  65. By Tade Thompson

The camera shows other vegetation now, some flowering. Blob-like beings fling themselves at Joké and hang on to her suit before dropping away, disappointed. The passages are narrowed at hatches. The crew and service areas of the Ragtime weren’t built to be pretty, and at the best of times they have rivets visible, bags of junk festooned, cables and ties and duct tape all over the place. The grey moss smooths everything out, like a soft-focus camera, a blanket of bluntness over reality. Cosy danger.

Joké flings herself into the next node and is blanketed in something scaly, slimy and muscular.

She screams out briefly, but the screen is covered in slime and blurry.

“Joké!” says Fin.

“I’m all right. The suit is holding, but I’m stuck. Something has me. I can’t see what it is, but I think it’s trying to pierce my suit. Or eat me. I can’t figure which. Um, both?”

“Can you move at all?” asks Shell.

“Negative.”

“Sit tight, I’m coming,” says Shell. She turns to the others. “I don’t want to hear any objections. Suit me up. Fin, weapon.”

“What kind?” asks Fin. “What are we facing?”

“I have no idea, and I will find out when I get there. Give me whatever you have.”

One of the storage bags attached to the walls contains an MCP suit, which is more manoeuvrable than a pressurised suit. This one is experimental but fully functional. Shell remembers being told to “take it for a spin a few times” back on Earth. It will protect from kinetic and radiant energy as well as inhalants.

Before anyone can object, Shell is out into the grey.

The MCP feels like every part of Shell’s body is being squeezed by a boa constrictor. It makes her more aware of the microgravity. It’s like a new and different force acting on her, but of course it isn’t. She propels herself the normal way: grab rail to steady herself, then push off through the air to the next node. The grey moss layer between her gauntlet and the alloy feels disgusting, like rot. It comes off and forms puffs of powder.

The entire experience is like swimming down the throat of a giant.