The Evolutionary Void

by Peter F. Hamilton

  I should have built one of these a long time ago.

  At his order the two small assemblybots crawled down the suit like oversize spiders and scuttled away. He reached out to the table where his snack rested, and picked up a wedge of the club sandwich.

  His exovision display showed him the Spike, now a mere three lightyears away. Its anchor mechanism was creating a huge distortion that extended out from spacetime to warp the surrounding quantum fields. He found the effect fascinating. It was nothing like a human hyperdrive. Unfortunately, the Mellanie’s Redemption lacked the kind of sensors which could run a truly comprehensive scan.

  Troblum finished the snack, washed it down with some Dutch lager and started putting on the armour suit. By the time he was comfortably ensconced, the starship dropped out of hyper-space two thousand kilometres out from the Spike’s sunward side. Visual sensors showed him the fantastic curving triangle of metallic chambers glistening in the bright sunlight like silver bubbles. Dark tubes wove between them in complex convolutions. He immediately understood why the crew of the Navy ship which had discovered it believed they’d found the galaxy’s biggest starship: the shape was intrinsically aerodynamic. Space on either side of the giant alien habitat was filled with dull glimmer of the Hot Ring arching away to infinity; bolstering the notion that it was frozen in mid-emergence.

  He flew the starship across the sunward surface, accelerating to match the structure’s unnatural orbital vector. Bright flashes of blue-white sunlight burst from the mirror-facets of the sail-shape as Mellanie’s Redemption moved above the uneven segments. Sensors scanned landing pads dotted all along the winding H-congruous transport tubes, searching out a specific profile. The Mellanie’s Redemption certainly hadn’t been able to track their target in stealth mode during the flight; he was just hoping they’d arrived in time.

  ‘There they are,’ he said finally.

  ‘Oscar’s ship?’ Catriona asked.

  ‘Yeah. They’ve landed close to Octoron. That figures. It’s the largest human settlement.’ He ordered the smartcore to put them down on an empty pad two kilometres from Oscar’s ship. A weak localized gravity field came on as soon as they touched down, but Troblum kept the ultradrive powered up just in case. The smartcore aimed a communication laser at the starship he’d followed from the Greater Commonwealth. ‘I’d like to speak to Oscar Monroe, please,’ he asked when his u-shadow told him a connection had been accepted.

  ‘And you must be Troblum,’ Oscar said.

  The burst of fright which came from hearing his name made him twitch. Electromuscle amplified the motion. His armour helmet hit the cabin ceiling. Secondary thought routines immediately brought up the command for Mellanie’s Redemption to power straight into hyperspace and flee. A single thought was all it would take to trigger it. ‘How did you know my name?’

  ‘Paula Myo said you might make contact.’

  ‘How did she know . . . ?’ Even as he asked he knew the SI had told her, had betrayed him.

  ‘Damned if I know,’ Oscar said. ‘She scares the shit out of me, and we go way back. Then again, how did you know I was on board the Elvin’s Payback?’

  ‘Is that the name of your ship? What was he like?’

  ‘Adam? Like me, misguided in that way only the truly young can be. Is that what you wanted to ask?’

  ‘No. I may be able to help.’

  ‘How’s that?’

  ‘I know about the Swarm, I helped build it. Ozzie, Araminta and Inigo might find that useful.’

  There was a long pause. ‘I’m sure they would. We’ve already made contact with Ozzie. There’s a capsule coming to collect us from our airlock in ten minutes. Why don’t we fly over to yours straight after?’

  ‘Okay. I’ll wait for you.’

  *

  Afterwards he stood on a vast snow-swept tundra, completely naked yet feeling no pain. Somewhere in the distance tall mountains with fearsome rocky pinnacles guarded the edge of the rough icy country, a geological wall between civilization and the wild where he had come from. He wasn’t cold, despite the harsh wind and flurries of snow brushing against him. This was home, after all, his one refuge against the rest of his life and all the anguish it brought whenever he lived it.

  It was daytime, yet the sun was invisible behind the low grey cloud which filled the sky. He walked across the frozen ground, his feet leaving crisp indentations in the firm-packed snow. From somewhere out amid the rolling folds of this austere landscape he could hear the snorting and stamping of horses. Then a wild herd of the giant animals charged over a distant crest, tossing their mighty heads, horns slashing at the frosty air. He smiled in delight, remembering times when he’d ridden the breed for no reason other than enjoyment, taking trips to other villages, meeting friends, practising his saddle skills, the formalized ancient fighting techniques which all the youngsters sought to master. Back before—

  It wasn’t snow brushing against his skin any more. He plucked one of the slow-drifting particles out of the air only for it to disintegrate between his fingers. Ash. Powder puffed up from beneath the soles of his feet as each footfall became soft. Ash covered the land, choking grass and tree alike. Ruining the rich living terrain. The blanket of ash blew away from a high mound ahead of him, revealing it to be the corpse of a huge winged creature. Feathers fell like autumn leaves to expose dry skin pulled tight over a sturdy skeleton.

  ‘No,’ he exclaimed. The king eagles were the most magnificent of Far Away’s creatures. Countless times he had sat astride one and soared through the splendid sapphire sky.

  Orange light shimmered across the desolate landscape. He spun round to see the mountains erupting, their sharp pinnacles disintegrating as lava gushed upwards. Massive explosion plumes clotted the sky, surging outward.

  There were footfalls in the ash carpet behind him. The stench of burning flesh grew and grew until he thought he would choke on the cloying fumes.

  ‘This is not your sanctuary,’ she said. ‘This is where I nurtured you. This is where your heart belongs. This is mine. You are mine.’

  He couldn’t turn round. Couldn’t face her. To do so would be to lose, to be consumed by pain and diseased love.

  Gold sunlight speared through the suffocating shroud of ash. A single incandescent ray falling across him. He shielded his eyes from it, cowering.

  ‘Come on, son,’ a kindly voice said. ‘This is the way. This is your future. This is your redemption.’

  Ash clouds boiled high and fast, towering above him, taking form. The beautiful golden light held. He stretched his arms out, reaching for—

  ‘Wooah!’ Aaron woke and sat up fast, arms windmilling against the thin sheet that was wrapped round him. ‘Shitfuck!’ His body was sweating profusely, making the silk sticky against him.

  The room was on the first floor of Ozzie’s house. With a single bed in the middle, some crude wooden furniture, and a window with the big shutters firmly closed. Nonetheless, light was stealing round the edges. Allowing him to see—

  ‘Shit!’ he yelped.

  Myraian was sitting on the end of the bed, her legs folded neatly as she regarded him thoughtfully. Today her hair was green and blue. Purple skinlight shone through a loose white lace top.

  ‘You’re losing,’ she said with a sweet smile.

  He gave those fangs of hers another mistrustful look. Even though he’d been sleeping there was no way she should have been able to creep up on him, biononics should have detected her approaching. Tactical secondary routines were supposed to inform him of any proximity violation, bestowing an instinctive knowledge when he awoke. Hell, even natural instincts should have kicked in. He hadn’t been this surprised for a long time. That’s bad. ‘Losing what?’ he asked sourly. Biononics scanned round, making sure there were no other surprises like a fully armoured Chikoya waiting for breakfast downstairs.

  ‘Your mind.’

  He grunted and rolled off the bed, finally freeing himself from the sheet. ‘It’ll be joining yours
then.’

  ‘You dreamed of home when she came for you. You can’t retreat much further. Your childhood will be an even worse defence. No child could withstand her.’

  Aaron paused as he was reaching for trousers which Ozzie’s replicator had fashioned for him. ‘Her who?’

  She giggled shrilly. ‘If you don’t know, I can’t.’

  ‘Sure.’ He was trying to ignore the dream. But it was more than a dream and they both knew it. Besides, it was worrying him at a fundamental level. Something deep in his mind was wrong. It wasn’t a war he understood, and there was certainly no tactical withdrawal.

  Unless I go basic again.

  But today was going to require patience and diplomacy. Not his best features even with full faculties engaged.

  Myraian skipped off the bed and stretched her arms behind her back, linking her fingers. Her head rocked from side to side in time with an unheard beat. Aaron was unimpressed by the whole fairy princess routine, suspecting she was covering something.

  ‘So are you a physicist?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m just good for my Ozzie,’ she said in her silly light voice.

  ‘Okay.’ He pulled on a black T-shirt.

  ‘You should have someone for yourself. Everyone should. This is not a universe to be lonely in, Aaron. Besides, you need help to hold her back.’

  ‘I’ll think about that.’ He put his feet into his boots, allowing the semi-organic uppers to flow over his ankles, then grip.

  ‘They’re here.’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘The starship. Oscar called eleven minutes ago.’

  A message his u-shadow should have monitored and told him about. He started to get concerned about the string of tactical failures. They couldn’t all be coincidence. ‘Great, did he say who he’d brought with him?’

  ‘No, but I’m going to fetch them now. I’ll be back soon.’

  He wanted to go with her and greet the arriving starship himself, but he couldn’t abandon Inigo. Taking him along would increase exposure risk. No choice, he had to wait and rely on Myraian. Which is pretty much an oxymoron.

  Downstairs, Ozzie and Inigo were sitting at the big table in the kitchen. Dirty plates and cutlery had been pushed to one side. Ozzie was drinking coffee, Inigo had a pot of hot chocolate. Corrie-Lyn was slumped in the fat old sofa at the far end of the room, looking incredibly bored.

  ‘A great-grandfather on my mother’s side was allegedly a Brandt,’ Inigo was saying. ‘My mother was always telling me that her grandmother had some kind of trust fund when the family lived on Hanko. I don’t know how much that was a fable about the old homeworld and how much better life had been back then. If the money ever existed then it got lost in the Starflyer War and the move to Anagaska. All anyone brought through the temporal wormhole was what they could physically carry with them. We certainly didn’t have much money when I was growing up. If we were Brandts the hard-core left us to sink or swim by ourselves.’

  ‘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 got 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 round before they reach the Gulf, starting with Wilson on the Endeavour.’

  ‘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 Motherholm 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 and dream a Skylord, an endeavour which had so far 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. Which was exactly what Aaron wanted. He just wasn’t quite prepared for how mindbreakingly 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 shrugs. ‘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 travelling 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 up. ‘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 highpoint 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 was troubling him. He deflected the worry with a diagnostic review of his biononics and tactical routines, the ones which had so failed him this morning. There was no clear answer 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 centimetres 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 defence, 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 armour suit with a force field already powered up. That alone made Aaron bring several weapon enrichments to active status.

  He sent an 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.