The Void Trilogy 3-Book Bundle

by Peter F. Hamilton

  Oscar was also pretty sure that it wouldn’t last, that Catriona would soon outgrow her initial thoughts. But then, ephemerality was the summation of most human activities. The trick was to enjoy the time when things were going right.

  The Silverbird alighted gently outside the Tulip Mansion, its landing legs barely making dents in the gravel drive in front of the grand entrance portico. Justine floated down out of the airlock, taking a wonderfully reassuring breath of Earth’s old air once again. There had been moments when she thought that might not happen ever again. Kazimir whooped joyfully as he followed her down to the ground. Manipulated gravity was just one of the delights he’d discovered in the short time since she’d summoned him back out of the Void’s creation layer.

  He stood perfectly still, allowing his mouth to open wide as he stared up at the preposterously extravagant building. “This is your home?”

  “Yes, this is where I was born and lived ever since.” That was almost the truth. She didn’t want to spoil things. It was going to take this naive Kazimir a while to adjust to everything the Greater Commonwealth offered. And who better to act as his guide and tutor?

  “Would you like to look around?”

  “Oh, yes!” His arms flapped around for emphasis. “Who else lives here?”

  “Ah, no one at the moment. It’s become a bit of a museum, I’m afraid. We’ll find you a bedroom, a suite, actually. There are some excellent ones in the west wing.”

  He caught hold of her hand and gave her that beseeching look with his lovely big adoring eyes. “Will you be nearby, Justine?”

  “Um.” She was blushing again. Come on, girl, get a grip. “I will stay for a while to make sure you’re all right. I’m going to be quite busy. There’s a lot to sort out right now.”

  He grinned. “You have saved the galaxy. People will allow you time for yourself now. I am sure of it.”

  “Probably.” The entrance doors were huge jet black slabs of glossy stonewood inlaid with a gold-leaf vine pattern. She paused as they swung open. I never noticed before; that’s so similar to the gates of the Sampalok mansion. Oscar had sworn his first voyage of exploration would be an attempt to find the previous occupiers of Makkathran. She still couldn’t quite get her head around that partnership. But then, in the Void, anything is possible. Kazimir was witness to that. And Catriona.

  Kazimir peered in curiously as the lights came on along the length of the cavernous hall. “How old is this palace?”

  “Over a thousand years,” she said with pride.

  “Dreaming heavens,” he murmured as they walked inside.

  “I used to rollerblade in here,” she said fondly. “That’s when I was your age or maybe a little younger. Dad would scream at me and—” She stopped dead. A shiver ran up her body, strong enough to cause her to clutch at the door frame for support. Shock that only a genuine flesh-and-blood body could know was threatening to reduce her to tears.

  Gore was standing in the doorway to the white room. As always, his solido was the twenty-fourth-century version of himself, gold skin body wearing a black shirt and trousers.

  “Dad?” she gasped. In her nice rational tidy mind she’d known all along that he would be waiting here for her, that ANA would have reanimated his personality as soon as it confirmed his bodyloss on the Anomine homeworld. But back in Makkathran his transcendence had been so real, so vivid. Her meat body and brain knew her father’s mind and body had gone on to something better, that Daddy had died, that everything afterward was just the result of clever technology.

  Sometimes basic human flesh and blood was far too painful.

  “You did a great job out there,” he said. “Not everyone operating in a meat body would hold it together under that kind of emotional stress. Thanks.”

  “My pleasure,” she said weakly.

  “So how about that—my original body finally gets fried up in a nova. Goddamn Marius, he’s actually worse than Ilanthe in his own pathetically petty way. Funny thing, I didn’t imagine I’d get nostalgic, but I think I’m going to miss it. The damn thing was like a psychological final safety net. I suppose I ought to clone another. Not that I’ll ever use one again.”

  “Good idea.”

  “And I’m going to have to have a long talk with the Delivery Man; he can fill in the missing details. I accessed the kubes in Ozzie’s asteroid as soon as ANA brought me out of suspension storage; they updated me back to the point I left on the Last Throw. But there’s no accurate record of what happened on the Anomine homeworld between then and when that old Tyzak guy switched on the elevation mechanism. The way it played out, I’m guessing there had to be some serious problems back there.”

  “Yeah, that’s how I read it, too.”

  “Right. Well, you wouldn’t believe the fuss the Radical Darwinist Faction is kicking up in here. Conniving little shits. I could do with some help slapping them down. Are you coming back home now?”

  Justine draped an arm around a very silent Kazimir’s shoulders and gave the golden man a defiant look. “Not just yet, Dad. There’re a few things I have to finish off out here. They might take awhile.”

  The ultradrive starship hung in transdimensional suspension five million kilometers out from the Leo Twins. Marius wasn’t quite sure why he’d chosen this as his destination. Presumably, his subconscious had identified it as the last place anyone would suspect him of fleeing to.

  As to what he should do now, he had no idea. The one time scrutineers he’d inserted into the unisphere were supplying a comprehensive picture of the political fallout from the Void’s elevation and the fall of the Sol barrier.

  ANA had carried out its threat and suspended the Accelerator Faction. Instructions were being issued to ANA representatives to locate and arrest the remaining Accelerator agents. The list was very comprehensive. He was at the top, charged with genocide. That wasn’t something the authorities would quietly downgrade and forget after a couple of decades or even centuries, certainly not if Paula Myo was involved. That meant he would have to leave the Commonwealth entirely.

  His options weren’t good. He didn’t know where any of the colonies were or what kind of societies they’d developed. Conceivably, he could start rescuing the other Accelerators on the list, form some kind of resistance. It would be dangerous, but he was more than capable of working in such an environment.

  Alarms flared—

  His ship was wrenched back into spacetime before even his accelerated thought routines had truly grasped what was happening. Sensors revealed nothing except a minuscule spatial anomaly directly in front of the fuselage. Then they failed, along with the drive. The starship’s network crashed. Gravity cut out, leaving him in free fall. Cabin lights died. He couldn’t access his u-shadow. A biononic field scan revealed that the life-support system was off line.

  A link opened to his macrocellular clusters. “You’re under arrest,” Admiral Kazimir informed him.

  “For now,” Marius retorted. “She’ll be back.”

  “She won’t. None of them ever come back.”

  As Araminta landed the big passenger capsule outside the sprawling white house, her confidence suddenly deserted her. Even the little surprise she’d prepared for him seemed feeble. There was absolutely no way of knowing how he’d react. Sure, he’d helped her before, but that was when the Living Dream maniacs threatened his homeworld and his lives.

  They were gone now, thanks to her and the deception he’d helped her with. Now Ellezelin would be paying compensation for all the physical damage its troops had caused during the invasion. Inigo had promised that as he went back there to assume the presidency she’d abdicated. It was going to take a long while to dismantle the Living Dream movement, but he was the best—the only—candidate for the job. After the Void’s elevation, he was the person everybody trusted to do it right.

  Two of hers stepped out onto the grass: her original body and Araminta-two. She looked around with all four eyes, relishing the familiarity.

  Mr
. Bovey had been busy since she’d left. The house had been repaired and painted. But then, if anybody could do a fast, quality refurbishment, it was going to be he with all his contacts in the business.

  Several of hims were coming out of the house, running toward her, and they were all smiling, which brought a lump to her throats. He does care still! Now that she thought everything might be all right, after all, she thought she might cry—that would be a lot of tears. The gaiafield was abruptly full of the relief hes were broadcasting loud and clear into the gaiafield.

  Eight of hims surrounded the two of her. The young blond one gave her a tentative look. “You came back.”

  His uncertainty was too much. She just flung her arms around him. Then they were kissing.

  “What you did was unbelievable,” the Asian him was saying to Araminta-two. “You never backed down, not for a second. Ellezelin, the Lady’s Light—you kept on and on. It was awesome.”

  “They made me do it,” she told him. “It was the only way I could survive.”

  “I was frantic when the Raiel blew up the link. Then Gore started dreaming, and you were on Makkathran. It was …” All of hims on the lawn started laughing in amazement. “Ozzie, you were unbelievable. For a while there you were in charge of the whole universe.”

  Araminta gave him a demure smirk. “Did you think that was hot?”

  The blond youngster cleared his throat. “Could have been.”

  “Let me give you back. Hang on.” She closed her eyes, concentrating on the way her thoughts were spread out through the gaiafield. Slowly and carefully she withdrew herself from the body she’d borrowed. When she opened her eyes, he was right in front of her, that oh so familiar smile on his face. Then he looked down at himself. “Thank you; you took good care of him.”

  “Certainly did.” Araminta let go of the blond youngster one and went over to the original—she could never stop thinking of him in those terms. It was only slightly weird kissing the body she’d been a few seconds earlier. “It was interesting being a man for a while,” she said in a teasingly husky voice.

  “Really? Why?”

  “I learned about … reflexes.” She was still pressed up against him. “Specifically, the involuntary ones.”

  “Uh huh.” His voice had become hoarse.

  “And I was bad, too, while I was away.”

  “That’s always been one of your best qualities.”

  “You don’t understand. Once you learned how to use it, the Void could make all your wishes come true. It really could. Anything. And I wasn’t strong enough to resist temptation. Mind you, I wasn’t alone. Most of us were at it at the end there. It was quite the little fantasyfest we had going on in the Sampalok mansion.”

  “Oh.” He sounded disappointed. “Well, you had just saved us all. I suppose that entitled you.”

  “My thoughts exactly.” Araminta had forgotten how much fun it was to tease Mr. Bovey. But the poor man was suffering, which he didn’t really deserve; he was far too noble for that. “I watched Justine and Edeard and Troblum all pulling lost loves out of the creation layer like rabbits from a hat.”

  Mr. Bovey frowned. “Er …”

  “So I thought: I haven’t lost anyone I love, but someone I love might appreciate a lot more of me.” She gave him a wicked smirk and glanced over at the capsule. The rest of hers were emerging.

  Mr. Bovey watched with incredulous delight as fifteen identical Aramintas walked across the garden to hims.

  “That conversation we had about what types of mes I’d have when I was multiple?” she said. “I decided there’s not much wrong with this one.”

  “This one is absolutely perfect.”

  “Good. So now all of yous can take all of mes to bed.”

  “Oh, yes!”

  “Now, please.”

  Last Throw fell smoothly through the miserable winter weather to land at the house in Holland Park. The Delivery Man didn’t waste time walking; he teleported straight into the lounge.

  “Dadeeeeie!” The girls flew at him. Small arms clung with surprising strength. Wet sticky kisses smudged his face. Little Rosa was bouncing around, yelling for attention as her elder sisters wouldn’t get out of the way. He scooped her up for big cuddles.

  Lizzie was standing in the door, her eyes damp as she smiled at him.

  “I’m back,” he told her.

  “Yes,” she said. “And boy, have you got some explaining to do. Don’t you ever, ever—”

  The Delivery Man kissed his wife.

  Inevitably, the world was a pleasant one. The temperate zones where Araminta walked had vast rolling grasslands, tall snow-cloaked mountains, and extensive forests.

  The three of them had been there for a couple of days, making leisurely progress along the narrow path before she heard the singing. “They’re here,” Araminta told Aaron. He didn’t react. Tomansio gently urged him forward toward the haunting nonhuman melodies. Aaron didn’t protest, just went with his guides as he’d done ever since they’d left Makkathran, saying nothing. He didn’t have nightmares anymore. He didn’t have anything; his mind had shut down of its own accord.

  The Knights Guardian had wanted to take him back to Far Away, where there would be the best clinics and doctors and medical modules and memory edits. Lennox the Mutineer would be reassembled, they said. Araminta had said no, Aaron had suffered enough technology; he needed real healing. And she would take him to the one person who would grant that. Tomansio had been startled by the suggestion and very quick to agree.

  Several dozen Silfen were camping in the broad glade. A semicircle of wide marquees had been set up, with long heraldic flags fluttering from the tips of tall poles. A huge fire was blazing in the middle of the semicircle. Some Silfen sat around it, playing flutelike instruments. More were dancing.

  Araminta wasn’t entirely surprised to see a human woman among them. She was dressed in Silfen clothes: a simple white shirt with intricate dragons embroidered in gold and turquoise thread, a loose petal-layered cotton skirt that swirled and flared out as she danced. Her face was rapt, lost in the enjoyment of the music. Wavy golden hair swished around her head. Araminta could just glimpse a long chin and well-defined cheekbones—similar to her own.

  “Ozziebedamned,” Tomansio muttered. He was staring around at the scene as if the elves had enchanted him.

  Then Clouddancer and Bradley were walking toward them. Araminta hurried over. The dancers encircled her, warbling approval and greetings.

  “You did well,” Bradley said.

  “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for believing in me.”

  “In your case it came easy,” Clouddancer said, his circular mouth fluting out to laugh.

  “I’ve brought somebody,” she said.

  “We know.”

  “Please help him. He suffers from terrible demons in his head like you once did,” she told Bradley.

  Bradley’s wings spread wide. “And if the Silfen can cure me …”

  “That’s what I hoped.”

  “He can walk with us,” Clouddancer said. “Where he will go can never be foretold.”

  “He’s sure-footed,” Araminta promised. “Look what he did for everyone.”

  “Oh, how you have grown. You are a wonder, Araminta. Mr. Bovey is a lucky man.”

  She grinned back, slightly abashed.

  “I think I’d better go and speak to your other friend before he explodes,” Bradley said.

  Araminta laughed at how scared Tomansio looked as Bradley went over to him. The toughest superwarrior humbled by his idol. Speaking of which … She slithered through the dancers, finding herself swaying in time to the rhythm. Somewhere by the end of the marquees two of the biggest Silfen she’d ever seen started drumming, pounding a compulsive beat.

  The woman beckoned her over with both hands. “I’m Mellanie,” she called above the music.

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Of course you do. I’m proud of you, Araminta.”

 
“Thanks. That really means a lot.”

  “It’s all over now, so let’s dance.”

  They came from across the galaxy, the Raiel arkships and warships, congregating in orbit around the star where Centurion Station was based. From there the starscape was unchanged. The Wall stars still shone with their normal intensity, giving no hint of the endeavor they had just driven. It would be centuries before their leap in luminosity would be visible to any observer standing beside the ruins of the observation outpost.

  Paula accompanied Qatux as they teleported into Makkathran. They arrived in Golden Park, where Querencia’s seabirds were still flapping above them, calling out in confusion as they hunted their missing sea. Paula turned a full circle, as admiring as any tourist as she took in the tall white pillars and the sweeping domes of the Orchard Palace.

  “I never expected to stand here,” she admitted.

  Qatux was staring out over Paula to the towers of Eyrie beyond. “Nor I,” he said. They made their way together through the overgrown park, following the curve of Champ Canal until it took them to Birmingham Pool. Paula was only too well aware of all Edeard’s gallant events that had played out around the pool and down the canal, yet she kept her silence, knowing Qatux was here for only one thing.

  As they started along the side of Great Major Canal to High Pool, Paula looked over the weed-saturated water to the unmistakable Culverit ziggurat. That was when she finally appreciated Justine’s melancholia at how empty the city was. She was thrilled just to make this visit, but to have seen it during the Waterwalker’s heyday, watching the intrigues unfold and meeting people she knew only from dreams—that would have been glorious.

  There was a bridge she didn’t remember across Market Canal, taking them into Eyrie itself. When she glanced up at the crooked towers, she could see past the crystal dome to the vast constellation of Raiel ships gathered protectively around their ancient comrade.