“Sounds like a dynasty, okay,” Ozzie said.
“But you covered up your family history,” Aaron said as he made his way over to the culinary unit. “I was at the Inigo museum in Kuhmo. There’s nothing about any connection to a dynasty.”
“You know why I did that,” Inigo said. “I was born Higher. My mother was basically raped by one of the radical angels, my aunt, too. You think I want the Greater Commonwealth drooling over that piece of personal history? And they would; my opponents would have loved that.”
“Sure, I dig that. But even if that Brandt lineage gives you a family connection to a colony ship, that doesn’t explain how the ship got inside the Void in the first place.”
“Same way as Justine, I suppose.”
“No. She was close to the boundary. This has to be something else, a long-distance teleport.”
“The dynasty colony ship could have gotten up close if they were trying a quick route to the other side of the galaxy.”
“Not a chance. The Raiel have been acting as traffic cops ever since their invasion failed. They turn everyone around before they reach the Gulf, starting with Wilson on the Endeavor.”
“I’m not disputing that,” Inigo said. “But equally indisputable, a human ship got inside. That was the foundation of our hope the Void would be able to open some kind of portal to the Commonwealth.”
“See, this is where theory just collapses with a big sigh of bad air. How did the Void know the colony ship was there? It seems to have a lot of trouble with the whole ‘outside’ concept.”
“The Skylords do. You can’t claim the same for the Heart. It has to be a lot smarter.”
“But that implies a perception that can reach just about anywhere. If it wanted minds, why not just teleport each sentient species off its homeworld as soon as they developed a coherent thought?”
“It doesn’t have to be perception. Araminta dreamed a Skylord. Other connections are available to it.”
“Not its own. They piggybacked the Silfen Motherholme presence to get Araminta’s attention.”
“That doesn’t disqualify—”
Aaron collected his bacon roll and a mug of tea from the culinary unit and went to sit next to Corrie-Lyn. “Still at it, then?”
“Oh, yeah,” she grunted.
Five days solid now. Inigo would try to dream a Skylord, an endeavor that so far had proved fruitless. Between his attempts, he and Ozzie would argue about the nature of the Void and try to conjure up possible methods of getting through the boundary. That was exactly what Aaron wanted. He just wasn’t quite prepared for how mind-breakingly dull their conversations would be. Every minute, an irrelevant concept was dragged out and discussed at extreme length. They didn’t seem to develop ideas so much as entire wishful philosophies. In other words, after four days neither one of them had produced a single helpful notion.
“Have you talked to Myraian at all?” he asked.
Corrie-Lyn gave the briefest shrug. “She talks? Sense?”
“Yeah, got a point there.”
“I have been watching the Greater Commonwealth through the unisphere.”
“And?”
“The Last Dream; it’s not popular. Living Dream’s new Cleric Council denounced it as a fake, but everyone knows Inigo’s thoughts. There’s some hefty infighting breaking out among the faithful. More than I expected have said they’re worried by the outcome of traveling into the Void.”
“But everyone on the Pilgrimage fleet is in suspension.”
“Yes. So it was too little, too late. It’s confirmed what all the non-followers believed about us, but they’re irrelevant as always. None of the crews on the Pilgrimage ships are showing any sign of rebellion.”
“Ah, well, at least we can all die with a clear conscience.” He bit into the bacon roll. There was far too much butter; it dribbled down his fingers.
Corrie-Lyn gave him a strange look, crinkling her cute nose. “That’s a first.”
“What is?”
“You mentioning the possibility of defeat. Even if it was a joke. I didn’t know you could think like that.”
“Just trying to appear human, put you at your ease. Standard tactics.”
“Your dreams are getting worse again, aren’t they?”
“Sleep is not my high point right now, I’ll admit. Or is that too much weakness as well?”
“Defensiveness now? Gosh, we’ll break through that conditioning yet.”
Something will, he thought bleakly. It had taken several minutes for his fear to sink away after he’d woken. That was a first, having the dread follow him out of the nightmares into the waking world. Another aspect of her growing strength. “Pray you don’t,” he muttered, and glanced back at the table.
“I could find out eventually, I suppose,” Ozzie said. “I still have clout with what remains of the Brandt Dynasty, but your heritage will only ever be a footnote. Even if you’re a long-lost Brandt, that doesn’t explain how the colony ship got inside in the first place. Besides, think how many other Brandts there are left in the Commonwealth. What makes you special?”
“Is there a list of how many Brandts had a tour of duty at Centurion Station?”
“Irrelevant. Your talent doesn’t allow you to talk to a Skylord, which is what we need right now.”
“Knowledge is not irrelevant. Any theory has to be built on a foundation of fact.”
“Sure, man, but that’s the wrong foundation.”
“All information about the Void is what we need to determine—”
Aaron wolfed down the remnants of the roll. “I’m going outside to wait for them.”
“Don’t blame you,” Corrie-Lyn said.
He stood on the veranda, facing the daunting alien city across the still water of the bay. The dreams he was cursed with and whatever was struggling to rise from his subconscious were troubling him. He deflected the worry with a diagnostic review of his biononics and tactical routines, the ones that had failed him this morning. There was no clear answer to how Myraian had crept into his bedroom. The field scan had registered a movement, but it wasn’t sufficient to trigger the beta-grade alert routines. And by sitting on the end of the bed she’d been ten centimeters from triggering an alpha-grade alert. Was that distance a coincidence? If so, they were mounting up.
But at least his u-shadow determined why it hadn’t intercepted Oscar’s call to Ozzie. The house’s smartcores had shielded it with some very sophisticated software. So Ozzie hasn’t quite rolled over. Figures.
The capsule appeared against the strong sheen of the Spike compartment’s translucent crown. Biononics filtered his retinas so he could maintain visual acquisition. His field function scan swept through it. There were seven people inside. Myraian, of course; three men and a woman with biononics configured to low-level defense, allowing him little acuity—however, they weren’t weapons-active; that left an ordinary human male with no biononics and a very large human in an armor suit with a force field already powered up. That alone made Aaron bring several weapon enrichments to active status.
He sent a identity ping into the capsule, which was returned by everyone except the ordinary human. He took a guess that he was the important one Oscar was escorting to meet Ozzie.
The old capsule settled on the swath of purple and green grass between the lake and the house. Its door opened, and the passengers started to clamber out. Myraian was first, waving gaily, which Aaron ignored. Beckia and Tomansio ran a quick field scan across the area, but not Oscar, which was interesting. Only then was the Natural human allowed out. He was slightly older than Commonwealth standard and quite dignified-looking. The armored figure of Troblum was last, having to squirm about to get through the door.
Ozzie, Inigo, and Corrie-Lyn came up behind Aaron to watch the visitors approach. Ozzie was grinning. “Holy crap, it really is Oscar.” He raised his voice. “Yo, dude, been a while there.”
Oscar tipped his forefinger to Ozzie, smiling sheepishly.
But it was Tomansio’s reaction that held Aaron. He was staring right at him, a look of incredulity on his handsome face. “You!” Tomansio gasped. “You’re alive.”
“Never better, man,” Ozzie said cheerfully. He turned to Inigo. “See, legendary genius trumps messiah every time.”
“Go fuck yourself,” Inigo told him.
“I don’t think—” Corrie-Lyn began as she looked from Tomansio to Aaron.
“The Mutineer,” Tomansio whispered. He still hadn’t taken his gaze from Aaron.
A brief memory flickered into Aaron’s mind as if tearing silently through some vital membrane. Her face smiling coyly at him as she lay on the bed beside him. The same woman he’d encountered back in Golden Park the day Ethan had been selected as Cleric Conservator. Different hair but still her. Bad news. “What?” he croaked. “What did you call me?”
Ozzie and Inigo were both frowning now, glancing over at Aaron.
“The Mutineer. It is you. It is!”
“No,” Beckia exclaimed. “It can’t be.”
“Who?” a puzzled Oscar asked.
“Lennox. Lennox McFoster. How can this be?” Tomansio demanded angrily. “How can you be here?”
“The Knights Guardian spent centuries searching for you,” Cheriton said. “Where have you been?”
“Sorry,” Aaron said. “But I really don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
Even after ten minutes, the Natural man still hadn’t been introduced and Troblum had been completely silent. The Knights Guardian were astounded by Aaron’s existence and quite forceful in insisting he was who they believed him to be. The son of Bruce McFoster, another old legend who had been captured and subverted by the Starflyer and subsequently killed by Gore Burnelli. Lennox had been an infant at the time, they said, brought up by his mother, Samantha, as a Guardian. He’d been one of the first converts to the Cat’s vision, desperate to find a new role for the Guardians of Selfhood as they teetered on the verge of self-destruction.
Their talk made Aaron nervous. Names and events were certainly registering somewhere in his mind, just not in the conscious section. He didn’t doubt that he could originally have been one of the Knights Guardian; theirs was the kind of ability he had in abundance. That made the rest uncomfortably plausible …
“What kind of mutiny did I lead?” he asked curiously. It was a question he shouldn’t have asked. It was irrelevant.
“Pantar Cathedral,” Troblum said in a strangely neutral tone. “It’s on Narrogin. The Knights Guardian were brought in to help one of the local political movements achieve dominance over their rivals. The Cat herself took command in the field. There was a hostage situation. Demands were made with a deadline. Then she started slaughtering them, anyway. Including their children. You stopped her. You stood up to the Cat.”
“That’s when our whole movement changed,” Beckia said. “We finally acknowledged the Cat’s flaws. After that, we rejected her leadership. But not yours.”
“The majority of us rejected her,” Cheriton said slightly awkwardly. “There was something of a schism; after all, she was our founder, bringing us out of the wilderness following the Starflyer War and uniting us with the Barsoomians. Though legend says that part was your idea.”
Aaron knew he had to get the mission back on track; he should find out who the Natural human was, make everyone talk to Ozzie and Inigo. Get Inigo into the Void. That was the universe—all that mattered. But for once the compulsion was weak. Her smile lurked behind his thoughts now. Sometimes he could see it without having to close his eyes.
Bad news.
She hadn’t been kidding, apparently.
“Did I save them?” he asked faintly.
“Who?”
“The children. You said she was killing children when I stopped her.”
Tomansio and Beckia shared an uncomfortable look, which was an eloquent enough answer.
“Do you remember anything since then?” Cheriton asked.
Aaron shrugged. “I don’t even remember that. There’s … nothing,” he lied as the vision of a vast crystalline ceiling shimmered like flame somewhere in his mind.
“You were never caught,” Tomansio said. “Never stood trial. Nobody knew what happened to you.”
“Including me, it appears,” Aaron said. It actually appealed to his sense of irony.
“Somebody did this to you,” Beckia said tightly. A great deal of anger was leaking out of her gaiamotes. “Somebody gave you the galaxy’s biggest mindfuck.”
“Could it have been her?” Tomansio mused.
“No,” Aaron said, not knowing where certainty came from but knowing it anyway. “It is my choice to be as I am. And I will retain this personality despite what you believe me to be.”
“But you’re not working too good, are you?” Corrie-Lyn said. “Your conditioning is breaking down.”
“I’ll survive,” he said grimly. “I have a mission to complete.”
“Which is?” Oscar asked.
Aaron pointed at Inigo. “The Dreamer must be taken to Makkathran inside the Void. Or at least establish contact with the Heart.”
As one, Oscar and the three Knights Guardian looked at the Natural man. He stepped forward and put his hand out to Inigo. “Dreamer,” he said. “I’m Araminta-two.” His gaiamotes released a flood of thoughts and emotions, including the gifting from the observation deck on the Lady’s Light.
“Great Lady,” Inigo grunted.
“Oh, yeah.” Ozzie grinned. “That is so cool, man.”
“I’m here to help,” Araminta-two said. “The Pilgrimage has to be stopped.”
“Now tell them who suggested you team up with Ozzie,” Oscar said smugly.
At least it got them all talking, Aaron admitted, even though it was little more than “gosh” and “wow” as various stories unfolded. But they sat around Ozzie’s kitchen table, testing snacks and drinks from the culinary unit. All except Troblum, who stood at the head of the table, refusing to come out of his armor suit.
“I met the Cat” was all he’d say on the subject. Everyone accepted that that was a pretty good excuse for extreme paranoia.
The only other thing Troblum said was: “Ozzie, it’s a great honor to meet you; I am a descendant of Mark Vernon.”
“Yeah? That’s nice, dude,” Ozzie said, and turned back to Araminta-two. “We’ve been trying to figure out if the Void can bring people inside like some kind of teleport effect,” he said. “Can you ask the Skylord that?”
“I can ask,” Araminta-two said.
Aaron kept watching Troblum. The big man had rocked back a fraction as Ozzie had dismissed him. There was no hint of a gaiafield emission. In fact, there was no way of telling exactly what was in that suit.
According to Oscar, Troblum had helped build the Swarm—again something both Ozzie and Inigo seemed completely disinterested in. Aaron was interested but only in that such information might break Earth out of its prison. But right now that was a long way down any list of possible actions to take to get Inigo into the Void. Besides, given that the Raiel couldn’t break through the Sol barrier, he suspected that it might take even longer than accomplishing his primary mission.
“Is there any way you or the Heart can reach out and bring me into your universe?” Araminta-two asked the Skylord.
Aaron glimpsed an amazing golden web of nebula dust fluorescing from dozens of dim glimmer points within as stars contracted to their ignition points. Skylords shone against the drifting eddies, their vacuum wings fully extended.
“You approach,” the Skylord said. “I feel you growing. Soon you will be here. Soon you will reach fulfillment.”
“I will be with you sooner if you could reach for me.”
“The Heart reaches for all. The Heart welcomes all.”
“I am still outside your universe. I fear I cannot reach you. Can you reach out for me as you once did for others of my race?”
“Those of your kind grew here upon the solid wo
rlds. My kindred will take you there.”
“But first we have to get to you. Can you make that happen?”
“I feel you growing. It will not be long now.”
“How did those of the first of my kind arrive in your universe?”
“They emerged, as do all.”
“Did the Heart help them emerge?”
“The Heart welcomes all who emerge here.”
“I can no longer reach you. My voyage to your universe is over unless the Heart helps me. Ask it to reach for me, please. I wish to visit the world where my kind dwelled before.”
“You will come.”
Araminta-two’s thoughts hardened. “I will not.”
“You continue to grow closer. Your voyage is unbroken. We will welcome you. We will guide you.”
Araminta-two growled and shook his head as the Skylord’s presence dwindled to a background murmur at the very brink of perception. “Ozziedamnit.”
“I will if you want me to, man, but I doubt it’ll do much good,” Ozzie said.
Araminta-two gave him an abashed look. “Sorry. Force of habit.”
“It hardly matters,” said Inigo. “Ever since you started talking to the Skylords, it’s been obvious they simply don’t comprehend the concept of ‘outside.’ Their thoughts aren’t configured for that.”
“But the Heart or nucleus or whatever’s running the place does,” said Oscar. “It listened to you when you asked it to take Justine inside. That was quite a night.”
“It was still relayed through the Skylord,” Ozzie said. “And that request was a lot easier to comprehend.”
“So we have to work out how to make the message simpler,” Inigo said. “All we have to do is establish some kind of conduit to the Heart. It will understand exactly what we want.”
“Dude, you can’t get a message more simple,” Ozzie protested. “It’s convincing the Skylord to talk for us, which is difficult.”
“Suspiciously so,” Inigo said. “I find it hard to believe something that can manipulate the Void fabric as the Skylords can do is genuinely unable to grasp new concepts.”
The Void Trilogy 3-Book Bundle Page 204
