The Evolutionary Void

by Peter F. Hamilton

  Little Kiranan stretched his arms out towards his grandma, and squealed delightedly as Edeard’s third hand plucked him from his father’s shoulders and delivered him to Kristabel’s embrace.

  ‘I wonder if it’s changed?’ Kristabel murmured as she made a fuss of the boy.

  Kiranan pointed at the horizon. ‘Island,’ he announced. ‘Big home.’ His mind shone with wonder and expectation.

  ‘It’s close, poppet,’ Kristabel promised.

  ‘It won’t change,’ Edeard declared solemnly. ‘That’s the thing with Makkathran, it’s timeless.’

  Kristabel flashed him a knowing smile. ‘It’s changed since you arrived,’ she said smartly. ‘Ladies in shorts, indeed.’

  He smiled, glancing down. She was wearing a white cotton shirt with blue canvas shorts, her legs lean and tanned from years of exposure to the sun. ‘There are worse revolutions.’

  ‘Daddy,’ Marilee called as she made her way along the deck.

  ‘We’ll be back in time,’ Analee said, accompanying her sister, the two of them linking arms instinctively against the swell. Lady’s Light was making a fair speed in the warm south-westerly wind.

  ‘Not that we don’t trust Taralee.’

  ‘Or the ship’s surgery.’

  ‘But it will be a comfort to be back in the mansion with all of the Doctors’ Guild on call.’

  ‘Just in case.’

  They grinned at him. Both of them were six months pregnant, and gloriously happy despite the constant morning sickness they both suffered from. And on board that was a very public morning sickness; nobody was completely shielded from the twins’ nausea, which had brought about a lot of sympathetic barfing among the exposed crew.

  ‘That’ll be a close call,’ he said, trying to be realistic. Not that the twins had ever paid much attention to that. ‘Even with good winds it’ll take a month from here.’

  ‘Oh Daddy.’

  ‘That’s so mean.’

  ‘We want to have landborn children.’

  ‘Really?’ he asked. ‘What does Marvane want? He’s a sailor, after all.’

  Marilee and Analee pulled a face at each other.

  ‘He’s a father now.’

  ‘And our husband.’

  ‘Yeees,’ Edeard said. Natran had married the three of them a year and a half ago. A beautiful tropical beach setting, everyone barefoot while the bright sun shone down and wavelets lapped on the white sands, the twins ecstatic as they were betrothed to their handsome fiancé. Querencia had no actual law against marrying more than one person at a time, though it certainly wasn’t endorsed in any of the Lady’s scriptures, so it had to be the senior captain rather than the flotilla’s Mother who conducted the ceremony. With Marvane’s title now irrefutable, the elated trio spent their honeymoon in a small shack the carpenters had built for them above the shore, while the expedition took an uncommonly long time to catalogue the flora and fauna of the island.

  ‘So he’s going to settle with us,’ Marilee announced as if it should have been obvious.

  ‘In some little part of the Culverit estate on the Iguru.’

  ‘Where we can raise babies and crops together.’

  ‘Because this voyage is a lifetime’s worth of sailing.’

  ‘For anyone.’

  ‘And Taralee has found us some fabulous new plants to cultivate.’

  ‘Which people are going to love.’

  ‘And make us a fortune.’

  Edeard couldn’t bring himself to say anything, though he could sense Kristabel becoming tense with all the twins’ daydream talk. But then why shouldn’t it come true? Stranger things have happened, and as daydreams go it’s sweet. Besides, that’s what we’re all ultimately aiming for, isn’t it? An easier, gentler life. He was saved from any comment when he sensed Natran’s longtalk to the helmsman, ordering a small change of course. ‘Why?’ he enquired idly.

  ‘We need to identify the island,’ Natran replied. ‘There are eight on the edge of the eastern archipelago. Once I’ve got an accurate fix, navigating home will be easy.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Are you ready for home?’ Kristabel asked quietly.

  ‘I think so,’ he said, though he knew it to be true. It’s all new from now on. Living in Makkathran again would be easy. Anticipation stirred a joy in him which had been missing for so long. He guessed she knew that, judging by the contentment glowing within her own thoughts.

  ‘We could always go the other way round the world,’ she teased. ‘There’re both poles to explore.’

  Edeard laughed. ‘Let’s leave that to the grandchildren, shall we? You and I have enough to do taking up our roles again. And I think I might just consider running for Mayor at the next elections.’

  The look she gave him was as if she’d never seen him before. ‘You never stop, do you?’

  ‘Wonder who I learned that from, Mistress?’

  She grinned and cuddled Kiranan tight as the boy strained to see the city he knew was out there somewhere. ‘And you,’ she told the boy, ‘you’re going to meet all your cousins.’

  ‘Yay-oh,’ Kiranan cooed.

  ‘Who probably make up half the city’s population by now,’ Edeard muttered. The rate Rolar and Wenalee produced offspring was prodigious, and he knew from last time round that Marakas and Heliana were keen to get started.

  ‘Daddy!’ the twins chorused disapproval.

  ‘I wonder if Dylorn will be wed,’ Kristabel said softly; there was a brief pang of regret at being parted from her children for so long.

  ‘Without us there?’ Analee sounded shocked.

  ‘He wouldn’t dare.’

  ‘You two did,’ Edeard pointed out.

  ‘That’s different.’

  ‘We had you there.’

  ‘Which makes it proper.’

  Edeard sighed, and grinned at the horizon. ‘Not long now. And Lady, we’re going to have the reunion party of all time.’

  *

  Makkathran appeared over the horizon just before noon on the thirty-eighth day after Manel had sighted the first eastern isle. The crew of the Lady’s Light knew it was near. Cargo ships had been a regular sighting for days, and early that morning they’d passed the outbound fishing fleet from Portheves, a village not ten miles from the city itself. Once they’d recovered from their shock, the fishermen had stood and cheered as the giant boats of the flotilla slid past.

  By midmorning, they had a loose escort of a dozen traders heading towards the coastline. Good-hearted, curious longshouts from their new companions were thrown their way as they ploughed through the crisp blue water. Then Makkathran emerged, its sturdy towers the first aspect to rise up over the horizon, their sharp pinnacles piercing the cloudless azure sky. A fervent rush of farsight swept out from the city to wash across the flotilla, accompanied by astonishment and a burst of exultant welcomes. Everyone was up on deck to see the city they’d left behind just over four years ago. Edeard thought the ships would just fly onwards through the water even without any wind, so strong was the compulsion to make it home now. They must have been quite a sight to those in the city. Each magnificent ship had set out with three full sets of snow-white sails; now the Lady’s Light was rigged with a grubby patchwork of canvas stitched together from whatever sails remained after years of sun-bleaching, storms, and frozen winters where ice crystals hung heavy from every seam and rope. Both the Lady’s Star and the Lady’s Guidance had broad repairs of a softer tropical wood on their waterline where the coral of the Auguste Sea had breached them despite the crew’s best telekinetic efforts to snap the vicious submerged spines. Several ships had new masts to replace those that were snapped off in various gales.

  But we made it, despite everything this world threw at us. Edeard grinned at Makkathran as the wondrously familiar outline of his home grew clearer. You can see that, you can see our triumph in the patches and the damage and the cargo of knowledge we’ve returned with. We’ve opened up the whole world for everyone.


  Slowly, though, his grin began to fade as he took notice of the thoughts swirling among the vast districts. The city’s mental timbre had changed. For a while he was puzzled by the flashes of anger shivering beneath the surface clamour of excitement at the flotilla’s return. Then he gradually became aware of the minds grouped together outside the north gate, thousands of them. Among those bright knots of rage and resentment he could find no hint of excitement or jubilation at the flotilla’s arrival. They were completely at odds with the rest of the city.

  ‘Uh oh,’ he mumbled under his breath. His farsight reached out to see what in Honious was going on. The first thing he sensed was the militia, deployed around the gate and in long dug-out formations along the road through the greensward into the encircling forest. By tradition, that area outside the city was always kept empty and uninhabited. Not any more. Dozens of huge camps had sprung up on the meadowland, and from what he could determine, a lot of the ancient trees had been felled – presumably as fuel for the campfires.

  ‘What is it?’ Kristabel asked as he struggled to shield the dismay growing in his own mind.

  ‘Some kind of siege, but that’s not quite it.’ He grudgingly gifted her his farsight.

  ‘Oh Lady,’ she grumbled. ‘Where did they come from?’

  He shrugged, trying to find some kind of clue. But such a feat was beyond farsight, especially at such a distance. ‘We’ll find out soon enough. And then everyone will expect the Waterwalker to put it right.’ He just couldn’t help how martyred he sounded, not to mention self-pitying.

  ‘Edeard,’ she gently rubbed the top of his back between his shoulder blades, ‘why do you always punish yourself like this?’

  ‘Because I’m the one who always has to sort everything out. Oh Ladycrapit, it just never stops. Every time I think I’ve got it right someone comes along with a fresh way to foul things up.’

  ‘Darling Edeard, you’re really far too hard on yourself.’

  ‘No I’m not,’ he said bitterly. ‘It’s my responsibility. I’m responsible for this whole world. Me. No one else.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, Edeard.’ Kristabel’s voice and mind hardened. ‘Now please don’t do this whole intolerable burden thing again, I had enough of it before. What’s important now is to get the twins ashore; they need to get to the mansion to give birth, poor things. Concentrate on that if you have to have something to moan about.’

  ‘Intolerable burden thing?’ he asked quietly; he could barely believe what she’d just said.

  ‘Yes,’ Kristabel said firmly, giving him an uncompromising look. ‘The Lady knows how impossible you’d become before we built the flotilla. That’s the main reason I agreed the estate would pay for it all. And this voyage worked, Edeard. For the Lady’s sake, you were back to normal. You were you again. Now this. We haven’t even got ashore yet and already you’re moaning that everything’s going against you.’

  Lady damn it, you have no fucking idea! He glared at her furiously and stomped off down the deck.

  ‘Daddy?’ Jiska asked with a worried frown.

  But he was in no mood to talk, not even for her.

  Thousands were lining the quays and wharfs of the port district as the flotilla’s longboats made it through the great waterside opening in the city walls into the port district. There were fifteen boats in the first batch, all of them rowed by a regulation team of ge-chimps sculpted with broad shoulders and muscular arms so the oars fairly whizzed through the water. Edeard was on the second boat; Kristabel and Taralee had taken the twins and Marvane ahead on the first. Edeard had a fast directed longtalk to an elated Rolar, making sure a couple of family gondolas were waiting in the port to take them straight back to the ziggurat. The twins were in a great deal of discomfort; in Edeard’s belief a condition partly owing to their fixation of giving birth on land. Taralee had privately confirmed they weren’t due for another couple of days yet, though they were complaining as if their labour had already begun.

  So he kept company with Jiska and Natran and Manel and a half-dozen officers and their wives and children; a merry group, all of whom were waving frantically at the cheering crowds. Except him. He simply couldn’t summon the enthusiasm and sat at the back of the longboat in a private sulk.

  ‘By the Lady, we’d given up on you at least a couple of years back,’ Macsen’s directed longtalk declared. ‘Did you walk round the world instead? It’s taken you forever.’

  Finally, Edeard consented to a grin. There was his friend standing at the head of the very hastily assembled official welcome committee of grand councillors, district representatives, officials and family. A huge group of them squashed on to Wharf One, anxious that no one should move about too much, else those on the front rank would topple into the sea. They’d dressed in their most colourful and expensive robes, whilst the strong sea breeze blew their hair and hems about in an undignified manner. Macsen and Dinlay were at the forefront, of course, waving wildly. Dinlay had one arm round a tall, powerfully built girl. Edeard didn’t care that he didn’t know her. It wasn’t Gealee, which was all that truly mattered. His gaze switched to Macsen, who was by himself. The Master of Sampalok had put on a disturbing amount of weight over the intervening years.

  However, standing beside Macsen was Doblek, Master of Drupe. It was he who wore the Mayor’s robes.

  That’s different, Edeard mused. Before, it was Trahaval who was Mayor at this time. He tried to convince himself that was a good thing, even though he remembered Doblek as a mildly inadequate District Master who admired the old traditions. Not a reformer, by any means.

  The longboat reached Wharf One. Once the dock handlers had secured them, Edeard made his way up the wooden steps to mounting roars of approval from the waiting crowds. It was an invigorating sound, sending the timid seabirds wheeling still higher above the port district. Just like the Banishment, but without the violence and turmoil.

  Not too grudgingly, Edeard raised an appreciative hand and grinned back at everyone on the docks who was producing such an effusive greeting.

  ‘Waterwalker!’ Mayor Doblek opened both arms wide and stepped forward to embrace Edeard. ‘This is a joyful day. Welcome, yes, welcome back. Did you really voyage around the whole world?’

  The city quietened slightly, hanging on to the Mayor’s gifting, awaiting the answer.

  ‘We did,’ Edeard announced solemnly, but he couldn’t help the smile widening his lips.

  The cheering began again.

  Edeard disengaged himself from the Mayor’s clutches, turning slightly. ‘Mayor, I think you know my senior captain: Natran. And my daughter Jiska.’

  ‘Of course,’ the Mayor moved along the line of arrivals, delighted with more official duty, keeping himself firmly at the forefront of public attention.

  ‘It’s crazy good, Grandpa,’ little Kiranan said, clinging to Edeard’s leg while his parents were swamped by the Mayor.

  ‘What is?’ Edeard asked.

  ‘The city. Is this everyone in the whole world?’

  Edeard hadn’t thought of that. Kiranan had never known anyone other than the crews in the flotilla, now he was confronted by the city’s jubilant population. Small wonder he was more subdued than usual. ‘Not even close,’ Edeard assured the boy. He pushed his farsight out to the smaller wharf on the other side of the port entrance where Kristabel and the twins were transferring to the family gondolas. Rolar was embracing his mother; and a host of grandchildren were jumping about excitedly, threatening to capsize the glossy black boat. Burlal wasn’t among them. Edeard was nonplussed by that. Instead of his young grandson, a little girl was cavorting around Rolar and Wenalee, maybe five months younger than the boy he was expecting to see. It wasn’t something he’d considered, that with this world diverging from what had gone before his own grandchildren would be different. He knew now he should’ve been prepared for it. For a start, he’d been blessed with Kiranan, as well as the twins’ pregnancy – neither of which events had gone before. But he’
d really loved little Burlal, the boy was such a gem. He gave the girl a sharp scrutiny, which she responded to with a start; then looked back at him across the water before burying herself in Wenalee’s skirts.

  ‘So who’s this, then?’ Dinlay asked.

  Edeard’s smile returned in a weaker form. No Burlal? Edeard was still thinking. Lady, but he didn’t deserve oblivion like Tathal. That’s not right, not right at all. ‘This is my new grandson, Kiranan,’ he managed to say levelly as he ruffled the lad’s hair.

  ‘Grandpa!’ the boy twisted away. ‘You’re Dinlay. You were shot, once. Grandpa has told me all about you.’

  ‘Has he now? Well, you come and see me one day, and I’ll tell you about him. Everything he thinks you shouldn’t know.’

  ‘Really? Promise?’ The boy looked up admiringly at his new friend.

  ‘Promise on the Lady.’

  ‘Welcome home, Edeard,’ Macsen said, and took Edeard’s hand warmly.

  ‘So where’s Kanseen?’ Edeard asked.

  Macsen’s wide smile froze. ‘We called it a day,’ he said with what was an attempt to maintain a jovial attitude. ‘Best for both of us.’

  ‘No! I’m . . . sorry to hear that.’ Lady, you can’t do this me. They were still together before.

  ‘She said she’ll see you later.’

  ‘Okay then.’

  ‘And this is Hilitte,’ Dinlay said proudly, ushering the tall girl forwards. ‘We’ve been wed these last seven months.’

  This bit was easy. Edeard had done this many many times in every time he had begun again. So yet again and as always he kept a composed face and smiled politely as he held out his hand to the robust girl. ‘Congratulations.’ No disapproval shown, no surprise at her youth (younger than Jiska, easily), no confusion at the somehow familiar features smiling coquettishly back at him.