The Void Trilogy 3-Book Bundle

by Peter F. Hamilton

  Edeard gave him a thin smile. “I suggest you don’t threaten my family. I suggest that quite strongly.”

  “I’m not threatening anyone.”

  “Really? I’ve seen how you use dominance to bind people, to deny them free will. That’s how you’ve come this far. Control seems to be what you’re actually about.”

  Tathal grinned. “How is your campaign for Mayor coming along? Dinlay is putting an election team together for you, isn’t he? Always the loyal one, Dinlay. His admiration for you verges on worship. Do you discourage that?”

  “If I become Mayor, it will because the people who live in this city say I can. And when that mandate is over, I will step down.”

  “Your nobility is part of your appeal. To their kind.”

  “You talk as if you’re different. You’re not.”

  “But we are, and you know it. And to make your guilt burn even brighter, you belong with us.”

  “Dominance is psychic assault. It is illegal as well as immoral. I want you to stop using it against other people. You can start with Colfal.”

  Kiary and Manel laughed derisively. “This is why we’re cautious? Come on. He’s an old man we can squash like ge-chimp crap.”

  Tathal waved them into silence. “Don’t do that,” he said to Edeard. “Don’t fall back on righteous indignation; it does not become you. You were the first. You have a duty to your own kind. You are the bridge between us and the others. If you want to retain your self-respect, your grandeur, you will work with us. Continue as that bridge. People trust you; they will need your reassurance that what is happening here is inevitable. You are essential for the transition, Waterwalker. You cannot stop us; we are nature. Destiny. Help us. Or do you consider yourself above that?”

  Edeard held up a warning finger, grimly aware of how pathetic that must appear to the nest. “Stop interfering with other people’s lives; leave their minds alone. You are not their superiors. We are all—”

  “One nation?” Tathal inquired; the mockery was palpable.

  Edeard turned and left the room. He was somewhat surprised he was still alive and allowed to do so.

  Mirnatha was in the ziggurat when a shaken Edeard arrived home. He’d completely forgotten she was visiting. She was up on the tenth floor, along with Olbal, her husband, and their children. Kristabel was on the floor of the private lounge, entertaining the two toddlers while the older ones were playing with Marakas and Rolar’s children in the big playroom on the other side of the ziggurat. The children’s excited laughter and squealing echoed down the vast stairwell, causing him to smile regretfully as he climbed the last few stairs. He passed the short corridor leading to his bedroom and gave the closed door a pensive look. Kiary and Manel creeping in unseen to have their dirty little thrill was far too much like the time Mirnatha had been kidnapped. Too many memories, he told himself.

  By the time he reached the main lounge, he’d managed to compose himself and strengthen his mental shield. He smiled widely as Mirnatha rushed across to kiss him effusively, and then he shook hands warmly with Olbal. Everyone had been surprised when Mirnatha had married him. She’d spent her teens and twenties enjoying every delight and excitement the city could offer a supremely eligible Grand Family daughter. Then suddenly Olbal had come to town, and the next thing Julan, Kristabel, and Edeard knew was her engagement being announced and a wedding six weeks later in Caldratown, the capital of Joxla province. Kristabel had worried it would never last; Edeard had a little more confidence. He rather liked his brother-in-law, who owned a huge farming and woodland estate in Joxla province, to the north of the Donsori Mountains. Olbal didn’t care much for the city and its politics and its society events; he was a practical man whose brain was occupied with agricultural management and food market prices. Such a man offered the kind of stability Mirnatha needed. And here they were, still together thirty years down the line, with nine children.

  “So what’s new?” Mirnatha asked as she settled back into a sofa and reclaimed her teacup from a ge-chimp.

  Edeard hesitated. You really don’t want to know that. “Not much. Still being bullied.”

  Mirnatha clapped her hands delightedly. “Excellent. Well done, sis. Keep them on a short leash, I say.”

  Edeard and Olbal exchanged a martyred look.

  “We’ve said nothing, but he’s finally going to run for Mayor,” Kristabel said.

  “Really?” Olbal asked, intrigued.

  “It’s all down to timing,” Edeard explained.

  “Will you change anything?”

  Not me. But my word doesn’t count for much now. He looked at Alfal and Fanlol, the two toddlers, and smiled grimly. “I think things are pretty good as they are now. I’ll try and keep them that way.” His third hand poked playfully at Alfal as the boy banged an old wooden cart against a chair leg. Alfal turned around, a mischievous smile on his sweet little face, and pushed back with his third hand. The force was surprisingly strong, in fact, very strong indeed for a three-year-old.

  “He’s a tough one, my little man,” Mirnatha said adoringly. “But then, they all are. That’s what growing up in the fresh air does to you. You two should spend more time outside the city.”

  “I’d love to,” Edeard said. “I always wanted to take a long voyage across the sea to find some new continents.”

  “Like Captain Allard, hey?” Olbal asked. “Now that would be quite something. I might even join you.”

  “Over my dead body,” Mirnatha said.

  “Families would be voyaging with us,” Edeard told her reasonably. “After all, it would take years.”

  “What? Including the children?”

  He shrugged. “Why not?”

  “There aren’t any ships that big,” Kristabel said.

  “So we build them.”

  “A fleet,” Olbal said. “I like that idea.”

  Kristabel and Mirnatha looked at each other. “Man dreams,” Mirnatha exclaimed. “It’ll never happen.”

  ———

  After dinner Olbal asked Edeard for a moment together, and they went out onto the hortus. Ku and Honious were both bright in the night sky, Honious in particular, its bulbous ruby clouds braided by sulfurous wisps surrounding a dark center where lost souls were said to fall. People were taking it as a bad omen that it was sharing the night with the Skylords. They were just visible above the horizon, five scintillations, growing steadily larger each night.

  Edeard eyed them carefully. Normally he’d be excited and content at their impending arrival, but now that he knew the true nature of the nest, he couldn’t help but feel the doomsayers might be right.

  “Are you all right?” Olbal asked.

  “Yeah, sorry. Just distracted by this whole Mayor thing.”

  “That I can understand. Rather you than me.”

  Edeard gave him a false grin. “What was it you wanted to ask?”

  “Ah.” Olbal leaned on the thick rail and looked out across the Grand Central Canal. “I know this sounds stupid, that I’m probably making a big fuss about nothing.”

  “But?”

  “My nephew, Constatin; he arrived in Makkathran three weeks ago. He was here to negotiate with merchants directly this year, agreeing on a price for this season’s apples and pears. We normally deal with Garroy of the Linsell family, and I wanted to keep that arrangement going.”

  “I know the Linsell family; they bring a lot of fruit to Makkathran’s markets.”

  “Yes, well … the thing is, Constatin has disappeared.”

  “Are you sure you didn’t just miss him on the road?”

  “He was with Torran. It was Torran who told me he didn’t come back one day.”

  “Okay. What happened?”

  “It was a Tuesday. Constatin had arranged to meet Garroy for lunch at the Blue Fox off Golden Park to thrash out the new deal.”

  “I know it,” Edeard said stiffly.

  “He never got there. Garroy called at Torran’s inn that evening wanting to know
what happened. He wasn’t there. Torran searched for a day and a half before going to the Ysidro constable station. There wasn’t much they could do, but the desk sergeant promised he’d keep his farsight stretched. Since then, we’ve heard nothing.”

  “I see.”

  “I didn’t think there were any gangs in Makkathran these days.”

  “There aren’t,” Edeard said flatly. It was strange. But then several station captains had mentioned that the number of missing people reported over the last couple of years had risen slightly. It was to be expected given how many visitors Makkathran was receiving and how unfamiliar they were with the city streets.

  “It was morning, Edeard, broad daylight. What could have befallen him? Torran checked the hospitals and even the cemetery.”

  Edeard put his hand on Olbal’s shoulder, trying to push through a sensation of reassurance. “I’ll speak with the station captain. I doubt it was a priority for them; at the least I can rectify that.”

  “Thank you, Edeard. I hate to use family like this, but my sister is badly worried. He was an only son.”

  “That’s okay.” Edeard frowned, thinking about what else he should be asking. Mysteries like this were rarities in Makkathran. There was only one person he knew who solved such strange puzzles, but that was ridiculous; she was nothing but a figment of his bizarre dreams. However, she used a method of elimination to determine suspects, and gathering all possible information was essential to that method. “You said you wanted to deal with the merchants directly this year. Is that unusual?”

  “Not really. I normally use their agents; they have them in every province. And Garroy visits us every few years to keep up a personal contact; I have dinner with him whenever I’m in town. You need that level of trust if you are in business.”

  “So what’s different? Why send Constatin here this time?”

  “I was contacted by some new merchants seeking to buy our produce. They were offering a good price, a very good price.”

  “Is that bad?”

  “No. And I fully expect to sell them a substantial percentage of our crop. However, I want to maintain our trade with the Linsell family; they are a reliable buyer, and the future is what I must look to, especially with so many children.” He smiled fondly. “New merchants come and new merchants go. Constatin was sent partly as reassurance that although we obviously wanted to squeeze the price up, we would not abandon the Linsell family.”

  “Who are the new merchants?” Edeard asked. He was getting a bad feeling about this.

  “They worked for a supplier here in the city called Uphal.”

  “What’s the matter?” Kristabel asked. She was sitting up in bed, watching Edeard pull his silk pajamas on. “And don’t say ‘nothing.’ You’ve been quiet since you got back this afternoon.”

  “Yeah,” he said, and rolled onto the bed. The walls remembered nothing. Kiary and Manel had taken away the memory usually contained within the city’s substance. He was going to have to find out how to do that for himself. “Sorry, but it’s not good news.”

  “I’m a big girl.”

  He smirked. For once she was wearing a sheer black negligee with a plunging neckline. Even after seven children she was still slim and, with her hair worn loose, very alluring. And she knew it; there was a calculating smile playing across her lips. “I’ll bear that in mind,” he said, giving her figure an openly admiring look.

  “Did somebody die?”

  “No. There are some psychics in Makkathran who are at least as strong as I am. And there’s a lot of them.”

  “Oh. But you’ve found plenty of powerful psychics over the years; there’s Marcol, and Jenovan, and what’s that new girl who came to you last year?”

  “Vikye. No, darling. What they’re doing is a lot bigger than anything we can handle.”

  “Why? What are they doing?”

  “Same thing Ranalee and One Nation were trying. Except this isn’t about establishing good snobbish blood as overlords; this is about strength pure and simple. If you’re a strong psychic, that means you have the right to rule everyone else.”

  “There’s a lot of us to try and quash.”

  “I know, and that’s what frightens me the most. Owain had guns and fear to keep people in line. The nest has dominance, which they haven’t been afraid to use. They also have the same skill I have with the city.”

  Kristabel gave him a sober look. “Oh. If their strength comes from numbers, then you pick them off one at a time.”

  “Won’t work,” he said apologetically. “They call themselves a nest for a reason. They’re like a family of the mind; it’s quite weird to see them together. Back when old Chae was training us, he made sure our farsight was always aware of where the others of the squad were. The nest has a more sophisticated version of that technique. I’d never be able to isolate one of them.”

  “Ladycrapit, what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. But they’re young, and they want to forge ahead in their own fashion. They’ve never learned how to accommodate other people because they’ve never had to; if they’re allowed to carry on the way they are, they never will. That means I might have a small opening.”

  “To do what?”

  “They asked me to be a bridge between them and the ‘weaker’ people.”

  “Weaker?” she snapped indignantly.

  “Yes. That’s their way of thinking. That’s what has to be broken.”

  “Do you really think you can do that? Edeard, I know we never talk about Owain and Buate and all the others that vanished, and I never asked, but … you couldn’t make them change their minds, could you?”

  “No.” He sighed. “But this time I really have to try.” Lady, but I don’t want to have to do that kind of thing again.

  “So they share their thoughts all the time?”

  “Sort of. They claim it’s a development of democracy. They’re still all individuals, but for decision making they communicate on a very deep level, in their own mental language. I suspect that’s how they overcome anyone else with strength; they can gang up in perfect union. And the more that embrace them, the stronger they become.” He’d been intrigued by the union they had ever since the encounter. To share thoughts so easily must be a wonderful thing, except they’d perverted it, using dominance to rid the concept of all equality. He suspected that Tathal was the cause of that. If the nest could have started without that malign influence, it might have had a chance to develop in a positive, beneficial manner. He’d concluded years ago that psychic abilities in the newer generations were significantly higher than among his own agemates. People were changing, adapting to their easier life.

  Kristabel gave him a worried look. “Embrace or get subsumed?”

  “Good question. Dominance isn’t my specialty, and the Lady knows I never found out how to reverse it.”

  “No,” she growled.

  “The one good thing is the way they’ve covered their tracks and set about amassing wealth.”

  “How can that be good?”

  “It shows they aren’t that different from the rest of us, after all. They chase after wealth and power just like everyone.”

  “Taralee doesn’t,” Kristabel said immediately. “And you’re the ultimate champion of democracy. After all, you could have been emperor.”

  “Yes, but … once you become part of the nest, you become part of what they are, what they aim for.”

  Kristabel wrinkled her nose. “A blatant psychic aristocracy.”

  “Yes. And then what happens to those who won’t or can’t become a part of it? They lack any signs of compassion.”

  She stroked a hand across his cheek. “Poor Edeard. You have to find a way.”

  “Easily said.”

  “If you can’t, who will?”

  “I know. At least they’ve offered to listen to me.” Which wasn’t quite what Tathal had said.

  “Are they really stronger than you?”

  “Who knows? Indi
vidually, I expect we’re about the same. Though Marcol certainly panicked when he was trying to contain Tathal. It’s this union of theirs which has me worried.”

  Kristabel was frowning as she considered what he was telling her. “It sounds like Tathal is the leader.”

  “He is.”

  “But if they have this mental democracy, surely they wouldn’t need a leader. If he’s as strong as you think, especially when it comes to dominance, isn’t this nest just another gang, with him as the boss? The rest of them won’t even know; they just think they have free will. That’s always the worst aspect of dominance, how the victim just embraces it.”

  “They did seem to be contributing to the union. But to be honest, I couldn’t interpret any of their combined thoughts.”

  “He’s the key, isn’t he, this Tathal?”

  “I think so. But the chances of me ever getting him by himself are slim.”

  “He was on his own when Marcol confronted him.”

  “Yeah. You’re right.”

  She grinned. “Of course I am.”

  “So if you wouldn’t mind telling me, how do I watch someone who knows I’m going to be looking for an opportunity and is in control of the city the same way I am?”

  “You’re the Waterwalker.” She pulled him closer, arms twining around his neck. “You tell me.”

  “You did it,” Salrana said. “I didn’t believe you could or you would. I suppose … thank you, Edeard. I mean that.”

  “Timath has withdrawn his objection?” a surprised Edeard asked. He’d completely forgotten, hadn’t even talked to the Grand Master of the Lawyers Guild.

  “Yes. It’s all over. Once Garnfal accepts the Skylord’s guidance, his estate passes to me.”

  “I see. That’s wonderful news. Er, did Timath say why he wasn’t going to challenge the will?”

  “Not really. Just that he’d changed his mind.”

  “Okay. I’m glad for you, really I am.”