Chapter Twenty-Six

“The Hague Revelation”

1.

The answer came to him as he was eating his breakfast in the galley.

Nathanial’s meeting with Hague had been less than productive. They’d met in the little man’s quarters, where Hague had been stiffly cordial. He offered Nathanial a chair by the door, and gently lowered himself onto the edge of his cot, folding his hands neatly into his lap and waiting for Nathanial to begin. His manner was neither threatening nor gloating, as van den Bosch had been. Merely calm. To Nathanial, it was like watching an undertaker ply his trade.

“Do you know what is wrong with the stabilisers, Hague?”

“Yes.”

“Will you help me, then? I think you’ll agree we need to save Peregrine Station.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Are you going to put your dogs on me?” The smile was small. A tiny white glimmer of teeth showed between the thin lips. “Is there to be a lynch mob for what I have done?”

“I can’t say there won’t be, Hague, but no, I certainly won’t have any part of it. I want everyone to survive this. You are no different than the others.”

“Why?”

“That is irrelevant. Please, Hague. You know that when we return to Earth, there will be a trial. If you help me now, that will work to your advantage later.”

Hague reached for a jug of water on his bedside table. He filled a glass, drank from it, and set the glass next to the pitcher. “I’m amused at you, Stone. You’ve considered every possibility inside this station, yet you haven’t found the answer. But despite this, you continue to bash your head against Peregrine’s insides as if you hope an answer will come to you. Have you ever heard the phrase, ‘like trying to draw blood from a stone’? I believe it originated with your people, so you should have. Ah, the time is coming. You should simply capitulate. Let the inevitable have its way. Entropy, Stone. Entropy.”

And so it had went. Nathanial had left soon afterward, no more frustrated than he had been before. After all, Hague was entirely loyal to van den Bosch; he would as soon die and take the station with him as betray his employer. Even now, secrecy was being maintained.

2.

His stomach growling, Nathanial then went to the galley, which was serving a ploughman’s lunch to all comers. The meal was filling, though the pickled onions were very strong. Nathanial finished eating and pushed it aside, taking up the mug of ale that had come with the meal.

He took a sip, and that was when it happened. He had been thinking on all of the conversations of the past cycle, struggling with some bits, as his mind was still so tired that he had trouble even accessing the most recent memories.

“You’ve considered every possibility inside this station, yet you haven’t found the answer. But despite this, you continue to bash your head against Peregrine’s insides as if you hope an answer will come to you.”

Nathanial stiffened in his seat, and he almost dropped his mug. “My God!” he said. Several workers nearby glanced at him and began to chuckle.

“Forget something back on Earth, sir?” one asked, and the men broke up into gales of laughter.

Nathanial stood. “Yes,” he said. “My common sense.”

This brought more laughter.

“Rotten thing to leave in a box somewhere, innit?”

Nathanial broke into a run as he left the galley, and he was breathing hard by the time he arrived at Wren’s laboratory.

3.

Nathanial went immediately to Holmes’ quarters and banged his fist on the door panel. A moment later Holmes opened the door, bleary-eyed from being awoken from a deep sleep.

“Stone,” he grunted. “You look a fright, lad. Come in.”

Holmes directed Nathanial to his office, on the opposite end of sickbay. Nathanial thought briefly about stopping and speaking with Doctor van den Bosch, but did not. Time, after all, was of the essence.

“Now, what’s the matter, lad?” Holmes said when Nathanial had seated.

Barely awake two minutes, and Holmes was already reaching for a clean glass for his brandy. Not for the first time since arriving on the station, Nathanial found himself missing Arnaud. He could do with some of the Frenchman’s wit about now. Holmes offered some brandy to Nathanial, who declined.

“Have you had any sleep lately?” Holmes asked.

“I’ve found the answer,” Nathanial said without preamble.

Holmes’ eyes widened. “You have? What is it?”

Nathanial was on his feet, and pacing. He was too excited to sit.

“What is it? A pack of Martians outside the station, chewing on power cables?”

Nathanial cackled with laughter. “You’re so very close to the answer, it’s going to kill you when I tell you.”

“I daresay it’s going to kill me if you don’t stop babbling and get on with it.”

“Inside!”

“Pardon?”

“I’ve checked everything inside this station, and there are no clues as to why the stabilisers won’t fire. But the one place I haven’t looked, or even thought to look―”

Holmes’ mouth fell open. “Is outside. My dear boy, I do believe you’ve solved it.”

“I have!”

“Well, let’s not be hasty. Fullbright needs to hear of this, and we’ll need Provost, too.”

“For what?”

“For what?” Holmes asked mockingly. “For bloody what? For attending to the problem, that’s what. We’re going to step outside for a bit lad, and see what’s what. The walk will do us some good, I think. We’ve all been cooped up inside this monastery for so long, it’s a wonder we’re not all stricken with cabin fever!”