The Void Trilogy 3-Book Bundle

by Peter F. Hamilton

  “When the gangs are no more and the bandits have vanished back into the wilderness, we should take a ship and sail around the world.”

  “Nobody has ever found a way through the southern ice floes.”

  “Then we go north.”

  “Through the atolls of the Auguste Sea? Lady, Edeard, they have reefs that stretch for hundreds of miles. The whole sea is a treacherous maze that can rip the hull off any unfortunate ship that drifts too close to the coral.”

  “Then we use a strong third hand to break the reef or farsight and ge-eagles to find a way out of the maze. That’s my point: No one has ever really tried. We don’t know what else is on this world other than bandits. What if other ships fell here on a different continent or island? What if they kept the science that built those ships?”

  “Then they would have probably found us by now,” she said as her maid finished applying jeweled clips.

  “Oh. Yes. But still, what fun it would be to explore properly.”

  “I suppose it would be. I never really have time to think such things.”

  “I can’t believe no one in Makkathran has attempted to do this. The families have enough money to build the most wonderful ships, and there are so many bored sons. Don’t any of them look beyond the horizon?”

  “Many do, but all they’re looking for are girls with suitable dowries. Nobody thinks in those terms, Edeard, not anymore. The last person to attempt such a voyage was Captain Allard, and that was over a thousand years ago. He was the Havane family’s second son and built exactly the kind of ship you talk about, the Majestic Marie. Makkathran had never seen its like before, nor have we since. It was a real galleon, over two hundred feet long, and had three masts. Eighty men set sail on her, all of them experienced sailors, with the best equipment Makkathran’s guilds could produce. They never came back. Allard’s wife went on to live past her two hundredth birthday; every day she went down to the docks to ask the newly arrived ships if they’d seen her husband. The ‘watching widow,’ they called her. They say her soul still haunts the docks even today.”

  Edeard gave the sea another longing look. “I never got to know history like that when I grew up, not real history. It was all about who built which farmhouse or guild center, and when their families arrived in the province. Lady, it was so dull.”

  “You poor thing.” She reached out and gripped his arm. “So where did you learn to sail?”

  Edeard flushed slightly. “I haven’t. Not yet.”

  Kristabel burst out laughing. “You can’t sail, and you want to voyage around the world? Oh, Edeard, this is why I love you so. You have such wild visions. You make it sound like anything can happen.”

  He grinned sheepishly. “I have to deal with the gangs first. Then, when I have time, I’ll learn to sail.”

  “Well, be careful of pirates.” She eyed the ships offshore suspiciously. “Our captains are reporting more sightings. They don’t pick on the larger ships yet, but small vessels have started to disappear.”

  “At least no one can blame me for that.”

  “Why should they?”

  “The highwaymen are mostly gang members driven out of the city by the exclusion warrants. They’re very difficult to catch.”

  “Let the town sheriffs and the militia deal with them. It’s about time other people started to help deal with criminals instead of looking to Makkathran to do everything for them. That’s one attitude I’d like to see changed.”

  Edeard gave her a proud smile. “The Grand Council won’t know what hit it when you arrive.”

  “And that’s another thing. Why should the families practice primogeniture? In this day and age! Do they think I’m not good enough?”

  “They’re fools,” Edeard said promptly.

  “You have your ambitions,” she said primly. “I have mine.”

  “Time will see us triumph.”

  “Lady, you’re even beginning to sound like Finitan. We need to get your mind off such things.” She stood up and held a hand out. “Come on.”

  Edeard let her lead him down onto the sand. The grains surged around his bare feet with a pleasant shifting sensation.

  “I won’t ask you to do that, by the way,” Kristabel said. “I imagine you get tired of people pestering you for it.”

  “What?”

  She gestured at the low waves rolling ashore. “Walk over it.”

  “Oh. Thank you.”

  They carried on toward the sea. Kristabel undid the belt holding her robe, allowing it to flow free from her shoulders. The sight of her trim body in the daylight was very arousing. She kept on walking.

  “Uh, isn’t it a bit cold to go swimming?” he asked lightly.

  She gave him a curious frown. “Not here. The water around the city is always several degrees warmer than the rest of the sea in these parts. It’s got something to do with heat seeping through the bedrock, which makes the water nutrient-rich. That’s why Makkathran and the coastal villages have so many shellfish boats.”

  “And of course everybody knows that,” he said with rising exasperation.

  “Well, yes.” She put her hands on her hips. It might have been intended as a taunt, but all she achieved was an extremely erotic pose as her robe fluttered behind her. “Why?”

  “One day I would like to dump you and my squadmates into the middle of Rulan province. Then it would be my turn to laugh while you all ate poison berries and fell into drakken pits and failed to light a campfire or got your fingers stuck picking gache fungi. Just once. So you all know what it’s like.”

  Kristabel straightened her neck and sucked in her cheeks. “You came to live in the city. I have no intention of ever going to live in the countryside.”

  “Oh, really?” He took a step toward her.

  “Dreadful place. No culture and very smelly.” She held fast for a moment as Edeard stared in outrage, then turned and ran giggling into the water. Edeard flung his robe onto the sands and charged after her.

  Kristabel was right; the water was slightly warmer than he’d been dreading. That didn’t exactly make it warm enough to enjoy a good leisurely swim, but he managed to catch up and grab her. They both tumbled over into the waves, laughing exuberantly.

  “This would be a good time to teach me how to make a fire outdoors,” Kristabel said through chattering teeth.

  Edeard had given her his robe after they had come out of the sea, but it hadn’t warmed her much. His own skin was covered in goose bumps as they walked up the sands toward the bluff.

  “Very well,” he said with dignity. He reached out with his third hand and gathered broken branches and chunks of driftwood. Kristabel clapped merrily as they whirled through the air and began to pile up in a hollow at the base of the bluff. “Now, see, we need some dry leaves at the center,” he explained meticulously as his third hand bunched some fragile brown gorelow leaves together. “And these trinpine spines are really useful, too; they catch easily.” He squatted down beside the wood to make sure the tinder was positioned just right. Kristabel knelt down beside him, her mind shielded but wearing an expression of deadly earnest. “So now I just need some flints.” Two suitable stones leaped up out of the sand and flew toward him. “You have to spark them fast and direct the sparks with your third hand so they always hit the same spot. At the same time you stir a gentle flow of air where they hit. But not too much, because that will blow it out. Learning to use just the right amount is tricky.” He twisted around to take hold of the stones with his flesh and blood hands. There was a peculiar silver glimmer of light behind him. “Huh?” He turned back to see the tinder burning brightly.

  “Oooh,” Kristabel cooed. “That was so impressive, Waterwalker. A girl knows she’ll always be provided for when you go hunting and gathering in the wild.”

  “How did you …?”

  There was a diabolical gleam in her eyes and mind. She held up her hand. Cold white flame scintillated along her fingers and arched across into the base of the wood.

/>   “Oh.” Despite the chill, he was blushing hotly.

  Kristabel nearly fell over, she was laughing so hard. Her words had to be forced out. “You are so easy to tease. Really.”

  “Obviously.”

  “Darling Edeard.” She stroked his cheek. “I’m sorry.” Then she swayed forward, unable to stop laughing.

  It was no use; he couldn’t stay angry with her. His petulance gave way to a rueful grin. “Yeah, but that trick won’t help you with gache fungi,” he informed her.

  She swarmed into his lap and twined her hands around his neck. Her smile rivaled the noonday sun. “If I ever get attacked by legions of gache fungi, I promise in the Lady’s name I will do everything you tell me from that day onward, and I’ll never laugh at you again.”

  “Okay. Now show me how you do the fire trick.”

  “I’m not supposed to; the families like it kept quiet.”

  “Think of it as the start of the revolution.”

  She kissed him. “All right.” Her mind gifted him the technique.

  It was actually quite simple, he thought as he examined the knowledge: squeezing a little stream of air and spinning it very fast at the same time to create a big static charge. “Easy!” He lifted his arm up and let his telekinetic strength agitate the air around it. A blinding flash spit out, fanning wide to punch into the loose pile of wood. A ball of flame bloomed around the branches with a severe thud. Several flaming sticks twirled through the air, trailing smoke. Edeard and Kristabel ducked.

  “By the Lady, Edeard!” she exclaimed. Her mouth gaped in surprise.

  The bonfire was blazing furiously. Kristabel laughed again.

  “That’s better,” he said as the flames shot even higher. “I’m starting to warm up now.”

  Kristabel still had her hands behind his neck; she arched her spine, falling backward to pull him down on top of her. “Me, too.”

  Edeard gave the beach lodge a mildly guilty glance, then grinned lewdly. “I always heard sex on the beach is the absolute best.” His third hand unfastened her belt.

  The legend, he discovered, was quite right; sex on the beach was spectacular.

  As soon as night fell on the second day they went back to the bed in the middle of the lodge. Long after the candles had sputtered and died, Edeard lay on the bed watching the nebulae twinkle and sway across the night sky. He smiled languidly, yet sleep refused to claim him. “How far away are they?”

  Kristabel peeked up at the ceiling. “Are you still watching the nebulae? I don’t know. A long, long way.”

  “Do our souls reach them without guidance from the Skylords?”

  “I can’t remember exactly what the Lady’s teachings say. I think it’s difficult for souls once they’ve been cast adrift from their old bodies. They just sort of float away through space.”

  “Lost. That’s why we need the Skylords.”

  “Yes.” She grinned and cuddled closer. “You see, you know more than I do. You must be very devout.”

  “Hardly. I can barely remember that much. But how did the Lady know?”

  “Because the Firstlifes told her, or the Skylords told her what the Firstlifes said. I can’t remember which. Though the Firstlifes would know; they’re the ones who created the universe.”

  “This Void. The ships that brought us here came from outside.”

  “They certainly came from somewhere else.”

  “If they fell here from the other side of the sky, then they must have passed through the nebulae.”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Then they would have known exactly what they were like. Why didn’t they stay there, in Odin’s Sea? The Lady says it is the doorway to the Heart, where souls live forever in unity and bliss.”

  “The ships were falling. They couldn’t stay.”

  “They fell onto Querencia. While they are in the sky, ships fly. The people inside them control where they go, just as captains set course in our traders.”

  Kristabel propped herself up. He could see only the darkest outline of her while her soft hair brushed against his chest.

  “Why are you asking these questions?”

  “We have souls, Kristabel. I’ve sensed them. When I shot Mirnatha’s kidnapper, my farsight watched his soul take flight.”

  “On its way to Honious,” she growled.

  “Not if it just drifts around the sky.”

  “Edeard,” she asked tentatively, “are you mocking me?”

  “No!” he promised. “Never. I just don’t understand why the Skylords have abandoned us. What do we do to call them back?”

  “The Lady says we have to be true to ourselves.”

  “Most people are, aren’t they? I knew so many who were. Decent honest folk who died. Are their souls all lost?” Is Akeem alone and astray somewhere in the sky? Is Melzar? Obron? For some reason he didn’t want to examine, he suddenly thought of Salrana, who was working conscientiously in Ufford’s hospital, waiting for the day she returned to Makkathran—and him. She’d devoted her life to the Lady, and she was decent. Certainly more than I am. Would her soul be lost in the Void? Such thoughts made him very uncomfortable, and for more than one reason. I really ought to write to her, explain I have found Kristabel. But I would never want to hear such news in a letter. Lady!

  “I don’t know, Edeard,” Kristabel said, “and that’s the truth. If you want answers to such notions, you’ll have to ask a Mother. I can get you an appointment with the Pythia herself if you like. We’re related, distantly.”

  “No. I’m sorry. My thoughts are wandering tonight, that’s all.” He tried to put the memories of Salrana away. I’ll deal with that in an honorable way when she returns.

  He felt her hair shift across him. Her fingers stroked his cheek. “Do you want to make love to me again?”

  He smiled up into the darkness where he knew her face to be. “I can’t actually move right now, let alone do that.”

  “You’d better recover by tomorrow.”

  “I’ll go to sleep now, I promise. I’ll be ready for you again tomorrow night.”

  “Tomorrow morning,” she said sharply.

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  Kristabel, he discovered as she woke him at daybreak, wasn’t joking.

  During the days they walked along the coast, exploring neighboring coves and beaches. Sometimes they’d take a swim, then warm themselves afterward by making love in the dunes. Kristabel especially took a delicious thrill at the prospect of being discovered by some estate worker or housekeeper. Obliging her wasn’t exactly difficult for him.

  On the fourth afternoon they walked back along the lodge’s track, surveying the fields and groves that spread back from the small strip of wild ground that ran behind the shore. The coastline was a series of rugged coves reaching almost the entire way back to the city. Many of the larger ones were dominated by villages that had extended or adopted the curving cliffs to make harbors for their fishing fleets. The rest had been incorporated into the estates of Makkathran’s Grand Families, which had built pavilions or lodges where their younger generations could idle away the summer.

  Farther south, the land dipped to become a saltwater swamp before rising again at the end of the Iguru. Then the Bruneau Mountains stood up to fence off the arid southern plains. Towns and farmland continued to cling to the coast as it curved eastward all the way down to Charyau, Querencia’s southernmost city, just past the equator.

  “They say you have to wear long clothes all year round there,” Kristabel said as they stood on top of a tall hummock, gazing southward. On the horizon they could just make out the snow-tipped peaks of the Bruneau range. “The sun is so strong, it shrivels your skin, especially if you’re not used to it.”

  “Do they have stories of anyone else sharing our world?” Edeard asked. “Perhaps strange ships that they’ve sighted at a distance out at sea?”

  “No. Our ships trade with them all the time, and their schooners regularly make port in Makkathran. If there were
any stories like that, we’d hear them.” She tilted her head to one side. “You’re so interested in what lies beyond our reach. Why?”

  “I’m just curious about the world, that’s all.” He didn’t want to tell her his main interest was discovering where the rapid-firing guns were produced. “Doesn’t it even bother you that we don’t actually have a complete map of Querencia? The ships that brought Rah and the Lady must have seen what it looked like before they landed. Why didn’t any survive?”

  “There you go again, thinking differently. What you said makes perfect sense, but no one else ever makes that kind of connection.”

  “Is that so bad?”

  “No, but it does mark you out. I’d love to understand why you think the way you do.”

  “Just the way I am, I suppose.” And the things I see in my dreams.

  “I wish I’d met your parents. I’m sorry if that sounds selfish, but they must have been very special people. Do you remember anything of them?”

  “Very little.” He sighed. “Akeem told me my mother arrived in Ashwell from another province. He said she was beautiful and smart. All the men vied for her hand, but she only ever wanted my father. Actually, he’d been there only twenty years himself, so I don’t suppose he counted as a local. He had a farm outside the village. It was a big place, or at least I thought so; I remember it having furniture that was very grand compared to the other houses. I don’t know why. We couldn’t have earned more than the other farmers. Akeem said Father didn’t get involved very much with Ashwell. I can’t say I blame him for that.”

  “I didn’t want to stir up anything that would hurt you.”