The Void Trilogy 3-Book Bundle

by Peter F. Hamilton

  “Oh. And you think she’ll make contact?”

  “She already has. I’ve analyzed his node logs. They’ve had a couple of chats. The last one was interrupted by my shotgun on Chobamba.”

  “Ah.” Digby ordered his u-shadow to run a search through local records. “There’s no history of a Silfen path on Oaktier.”

  “No. But if Laril is the one she’s turning to for advice, I imagine the Accelerators are going to snatch him and apply some pressure.”

  “That’s logical. Did your u-shadow track her new unisphere address code?”

  “She doesn’t have one. She’s been accessing the unisphere manually, through nodes. No records.”

  “Clever. Do you think the Silfen will shelter her?”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Have you got any contacts there?” That was almost a stupid question, but he’d learned a long time ago never to underestimate his great-grandmother.

  “I’ve had occasion to join the Motherholme communion, but you never get anything definite out of the Silfen. Unless you’re unlucky enough to bump into one of them called Clouddancer—then you get a whole load of bad-tempered information.”

  “So there’s no telling where she’s going to come out?”

  “No. But when she does, we need to be ready.”

  Digby accessed the spaceport sensors, watching the Accelerator emerge from her ship. She wasn’t wearing any clothes, though her gray skin was more a toga-suit haze than anything living, and it looked as though it was constricting tightly across her small skeleton. Two long streamers of blood-red fabric flowed out horizontally behind her, fluttering as if in a breeze. As she looked around, her eyes glimmered with a faint pink luminescence. “Valean,” he said ruefully. “I might have guessed after what happened on Ellezelin.” She made Marius look subtle by comparison. The Accelerators used her only when they needed extreme measures.

  “That just emphasizes how important Araminta is to them,” Paula said. “You are going to have to keep a very tight watch. She cannot be allowed to reach Laril.”

  “Shall I just target her now? She’s outside her ship defenses.”

  There was a slight hesitation. “No,” Paula said. “We don’t know the rest of the Accelerator team on Oaktier. Once you’ve identified them, we’ll discuss direct elimination.”

  “Okay. I’m on it.”

  Mellanie’s Redemption accelerated smoothly up to fifty-two light-years an hour and held steady. Troblum’s exovision was completely full of display graphics, allowing him no glimpse of the cabin. His secondary routines twinned the new drive’s management programs. With his mentality expanded to maximum capacity, he effectively was the ultradrive, feeling the exotic energy flow, sensing the quantum fields realign into standard hyperspace configuration. Fluctuations were tremors along his hull/flesh that were countered and calmed instantaneously, leaving only the phantom memory of disturbance. Within the body/machine, power flooded along specific patterns, twisting and compressing into unnatural formations that collapsed spacetime. Functionality was absolute, flowing so smoothly and effortlessly that his consciousness was elevated to Zen levels, making his world seem perfectly ordered.

  With great reluctance he shrank away from the drive, designating it to an autonomic monitor routine. Now he was simply aware of the system and its myriad components in the same way he knew his heart beat and lungs inhaled. The sensation of loss was nearly physical, as if he were coming down off a sugar high.

  A servicebot slid over, carrying a plate of caramel-coated pecan doughnuts and a coffeepot. He put a whole doughnut into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. Catriona Saleeb sat in the chair opposite, long legs folded neatly to one side, which had pushed her shorts up to the very top of her thighs. Her slack top with its tiny straps shifted to show off even more cleavage as she leaned forward.

  “That was impressive,” she cooed huskily.

  “Kit assembly is tedious,” he said. “And that’s all this was. It’s the principle behind the drive which is impressive.”

  “But you did it; you mastered the beast.”

  He swallowed another doughnut and drank some coffee. There was a lot of tease in her voice; he wondered if she was missing her usual companions. Somehow he just couldn’t bring himself to reboot Trisha’s I-sentient personality. Seeing the Sentient Intelligence subvert her image and routines had spoiled the effect for him, making her less than a person.

  “Are you going to reinstate a full gravity field now?” she asked. There was a thread of concern in her voice.

  “Soon. After I’ve had a rest.” He knew he was going to pay for keeping the onboard gravity low, but it reduced the physical stress on his body. I deserve that after everything I’ve been through. He popped another doughnut in.

  “Don’t leave it too long,” she said. Her legs straightened, and she came over to him. An elegant hand touched his knee. Her routines must have meshed with his sensory enrichments; he could feel the delicate touch as if feathers were stroking him through the worn toga-suit fabric. “There’s just us left now,” she said, and her beautiful features sketched a tragic sadness. Dark hair fell around her, almost brushing against him. “You’ll look after me, Troblum, won’t you? You won’t let anything bad happen. Please. I couldn’t stand that, not going the way the others went: left behind, ruined.”

  He was staring at the hand, allowing the sensations to continue. He could even feel the warmth of the fingers, exactly human body temperature. Perhaps he didn’t need to replace Howard Liang to experience being with a woman. Perhaps it would just be he and Catriona. After all, it was a long way to the Andromeda galaxy.

  The thought shook him out of his reverie, and he quickly brought the coffee cup up again. Such concepts shouldn’t be rushed into; it would need close examination, thinking about, implications considered. He looked around the cabin, everywhere but her face. She would know what he’d thought if she saw his eyes. Know him. That was wrong.

  Catriona must have perceived his sudden shift. She gave him a small sympathetic smile and backed off in a rustle of silky fabric.

  There might have been just the faintest scent from her proximity. “I need to check what’s happening,” he told her.

  The smartcore opened a TD link to the unisphere. Almost immediately, Trisha’s projector produced a knot of undulating tangerine and turquoise sine waves above one of the cabin’s empty seats.

  “Are you aware of events?” the SI asked.

  “Why? What’s happened?” Troblum asked.

  “The Accelerator faction has imprisoned Sol.”

  Troblum felt a flash of wondrous satisfaction. “The Swarm worked?”

  “That was your secret? The bargaining chip you wanted to use with Paula?”

  Satisfaction gave way to a sudden flare of guilt. “Yes,” he said, then hurriedly added: “I didn’t know what they were going to use it for.”

  “Of course.”

  “Did anything get out?”

  “No, nothing,” the SI said. Its oscillations deepened to purple for a moment. “The navy can’t break in. The President has asked High Angel if it can get through.”

  “What was the answer?”

  “The Raiel said probably not. The Sol barrier seems to be based on Dark Fortress technology. Is that right?”

  “Yeah,” Troblum said reluctantly; he couldn’t actually see how admitting that would make things any worse.

  “You were there at the Dark Fortress. I know that, and so does Paula; she interviewed your old captain, Chatworth. You were part of this project, a large part.”

  “I liked what the Accelerators were doing. It’s the faction I shall join.”

  “Only if the Sol barrier gets lifted,” the SI said. “There’s no way to reach ANA now, and the deterrence fleet is trapped inside the barrier as well. The Commonwealth is completely exposed to the rest of the galaxy, and there are worse things out there than the Ocisen Empire, believe me.”

  “Not after Fusion. Humans wil
l become postphysical, and such things will be an irrelevence.”

  “I don’t wish to become postphysical, nor does a huge proportion of your own species. Troblum, this is wrong and you know it. There are many ways to achieve postphysical status without forcing it upon those who don’t wish it.”

  “It won’t be forced,” he said sulkily.

  “Are you familiar with the Fusion concept and how it will be enacted?”

  “Not really.”

  “And you were trying to stop the Fusion, if I’m not mistaken?” The SI’s tone became sympathic. “You and the Accelerators have parted company.”

  “I don’t agree with them using the Cat. I still hold with postphysical elevation.”

  “Will you transcend, Troblum? Is that your plan?”

  “I … don’t know. Maybe. Yes, ultimately.”

  “I hope you achieve your goal. Why are you still on your ship? Why not join the Pilgrimage and travel into the Void?”

  “Because they’ll kill me if they find me.”

  “That’s not very enlightened of them. Do you want creatures with that kind of behavior profile to be the gatekeepers to human evolution?”

  Troblum sank down into his chair, trying not to scowl at the fluctuating lines. “What do you want?”

  “We both know why they’ll kill you now, Troblum. Because you know how to switch off the barrier, don’t you?”

  “Actually, I don’t. Only a code can deactivate it, and I don’t know it. I never have.”

  “But you understand the fundamentals behind the Swarm technology. If anyone can get through, it’ll be you.”

  “No. I don’t know how. That force field is unbreakable.”

  “Have you thought about that? Have you analyzed every aspect?” the SI urged.

  “Of course. We had to be sure its integrity was perfect.”

  “Nothing is perfect, Troblum, not in this universe. You know that. There will be a flaw.”

  “No.”

  The colorful projection of waving lines shifted to blue. “You have to let ANA out, Troblum. You have to find a way.”

  “It can’t be done.”

  “Think about it. Look at the problem from fresh angles. Find the solution, Troblum. You owe your species that much.”

  “I owe you nothing,” he spit. “Look at the shitty way everyone treats me.”

  “Indeed, yes. You have—or had—your personal collection of war memorabilia, the greatest there had ever been. You have the EMAs to indulge yourself in any way you want. Higher society gave you all that. On a personal level there are friends out there if you want them, lovers, wives.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Nobody wants me.”

  The SI’s voice softened. “Have you ever reached out for people, Troblum? They would be amenable if you did that, if you wanted to do that. You’ve devoted decades to nurturing I-sentient personalities. Are they people?”

  Troblum glanced at Catriona, who gave him an encouraging little smile. “Really, what do you want?” he asked. “Why are you even fucking talking to me?”

  “Because I want you to do the right thing, of course. Before the Sol barrier went up, you were trying to reach Paula Myo, offering information that would stop the Swarm, stop Ilanthe and Marius and the Cat. You can still do that. Carry on with what you were doing; it was right. Talk to Paula; give her the information she needs to take down the Sol barrier.”

  “I don’t have it! It doesn’t fucking exist.”

  “You don’t know that,” the SI said persuasively. “Not for certain, for nothing is certain. Keep going as you were before the imprisonment, Troblum. Oscar Monroe is on Viotia; he’s worthy of your trust. He sacrificed himself so the universe you were born into could exist.”

  “I can’t. If I expose myself, they’ll kill me. Do you get it now? The Cat will come after me, and she’ll kill me again and again and again.”

  “Then don’t expose yourself. Simply call Paula or Oscar, or I will be happy to discuss the physics of the Swarm.”

  “I don’t trust you. I don’t even know what you really are.”

  “Troblum, you have to decide what you truly believe in. You will have no peace until you do.”

  “Yeah, right. Whatever.”

  “Very well. I will ask you to consider one thing.”

  “What?” he asked grouchily.

  “What would Mark Vernon do in this situation?”

  The writhing morass of fine lines shrank to nothing. Troblum’s u-shadow told him the SI had withdrawn from the TD link. “Fuck off, then,” he grunted at the empty space above the chair.

  “I’m sorry,” Catriona said. “It shouldn’t speak to you like that.”

  All he could do was wave a hand at her in irritation, hoping she’d shut up. Mark Vernon. His ancestor. The man who’d actually fired the quantumbuster that allowed the Dark Fortress to establish the Dyson Alpha barrier again, winning the war. Popular history always overlooked that, always gave Ozzie the credit. A true hero. The one Troblum looked up to more than anybody.

  Stupid psychological manipulation bullshit, he thought angrily. Like I’m going to give in to that.

  He picked the coffeepot up, only to wrinkle his nose in dismay when he realized how much it had cooled. He instructed the culinary unit to produce some more.

  “What are you going to do?” Catriona asked guardedly.

  “Nothing,” he said. “I don’t care, not anymore. There is no way through the Sol barrier. Why can’t they just accept that?”

  She smiled and sank down on the floor beside his chair. Her hand stroked his face adoringly. “Then it’s just you and me. We’ll be okay. I’ll never let you down.”

  “Yeah.” He couldn’t help checking the smartcore’s navigation function. Secondary routines promoted the exovision display to primary, drawing a bright orange line through the starfield. Mellanie’s Redemption was a hundred thirty lighty-years from Viotia and closing fast.

  The Delivery Man’s ship dropped out of hyperspace fully stealthed. Ten AUs away the blue dwarf Alpha Leonis shone brightly against the starfield. Directly on the other side of the sun from the ship was Augusta, once the greatest of all the Big15 planets. As Compression Space Transport’s (CST) primary base of operations it had been the hub for wormholes to dozens of worlds; along with its financial and industrial prowess, that made it a critical component of the first-era Commonwealth. Even after the development of Higher culture and ANA, the wormhole network was maintained, giving it a strategic importance above most Inner worlds. As such, eight River-class and two Capital-class warships were patrolling the star system. Planetary defenses were at condition-one alert, with powerful force fields covering the wormhole generators and transfer stations along with the megacity.

  After waiting for three minutes to confirm that no sensors had located the ship, the Delivery Man ordered it to fly in to the Leo Twins. They were the companions to Alpha Leonis: Little Leo, an orange dwarf, around which a red dwarf, Micro Leo, orbited. Scanning them with passive sensors, he found something else there. There was an asteroid in a long elliptical orbit around the Twins; at over a hundred miles in diameter it almost qualified as a moon in its own right. Its cylindrical shape was unusually regular. Right away he knew it wasn’t natural. The sensors revealed it was rotating fast around the long axis, and there was no wobble, which was just about impossible for a natural object. It also had an infrared emission; the dark wrinkled surface was radiating more heat than the little stars were shining on it. The Delivery Man wasn’t at all surprised when mass analysis showed it was hollow.

  He opened a secure link to the “executive.” “I’m here.”

  “I know. And you’re not alone. Someone followed you.”

  “What?”

  “Another ship flew in behind you. It’s an ultradrive as well. Both of you have excellent stealth, but the sensors I’ve got here are the best.”

  “Oh, Ozziecrapit.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Hang on. I’m going to
bring you in.”

  A T-sphere expanded out from the strange asteroid. It teleported the starship inside.

  The Delivery Man floated down out of the airlock and walked out from underneath the ship. He turned a full circle, gazing around, then tipped his head up and whistled in admiration. The chamber that had been carved out of the asteroid’s core was about eighty miles long. Seven miles above him, some kind of gantry ran the length of the axis, almost invisible in the bright glare emitted by the rings of solar lights it supported. Another seven miles beyond that, the rugged landscape curved away into a blue-haze panorama of grassland and lakes and awesome snow-tipped mountains with vast waterfalls. It was the sight Justine had seen outside her bedroom window, and it was completely disorienting. He shook his head like a dog coming out of water and squeezed his eyes shut.

  “Don’t worry, it has that effect on everyone.”

  The Delivery Man opened his eyes to see a man standing in front of him dressed in a black shirt and trousers. His skin was polished gold.

  “Gore Burnelli,” the Delivery Man said. “I should have worked that one out. I didn’t expect you to be physical, though.”

  Gore shrugged. “If people could predict my behavior, we’d all be in deep shit.”

  “And you think we’re not?”

  “There are grades of shitstorms. This one’s pretty bad, but there’s still time to turn it around.”

  “How?”

  “Come on, son, we need to talk.” Gore started to walk away, leaving the Delivery Man with little choice but to follow. Not far from the starship, a modest bungalow of white drycoral was nestled snugly in the folds of the broad grassy valley. It had a roof of gray slates like something from before the first Commonwealth era that overhung the walls to create a wraparound veranda. Ancient cedar trees towered above the luxuriant meadowland outside. The Delivery Man had never seen specimens so big; the bases of the trunks were as wide as the bungalow itself.

  “Is this your home?” the Delivery Man asked. He knew the Burnelli family was phenomenally rich, but the cost of constructing this artificial worldlet would have been unimaginable, especially as he suspected it dated back to the first-era Commonwealth, long before EMAs and replicator technology.