The Temporal Void (ARC)

by Peter F. Hamilton

  'A drink tonight?' Chae asked. 'This victory is probably more significant for you than Arminel's was. It shows the gangs you're not going away. That needs to be celebrated properly.'

  'No thank you, I have a date.'

  'Ah, good for you, lad. Enjoy it while you can, while you're young. They turn sour when they get older.'

  'Who?'

  'Women. All of them.'

  * * * *

  'Is everyone in this city a cynic?' Edeard asked that evening.

  Jessile pulled a beer bottle out of the wicker hamper she'd brought. 'Who's cynical?'

  'Everybody, so it seems. Or maybe I'm just paranoid.'

  She smiled sweetly. 'You probably are.'

  'Thanks.' Edeard took the bottle and flopped down on to the maisonette's heavy old couch. He felt exhausted, even though all he'd done was sit around in court all day. Victory should have perked him up, yet all it seemed to have done was raise another bout of questions and doubt. How he longed for things to be as they were before Birmingham Pool. Life had been so much simpler then.

  'Put your feet on the stool, I'll pull your boots off.'

  He leant back and did as he was told. It was nice having Jessile around. After that final night with Ranalee he'd almost sworn off family girls for life. Except he remembered how genuinely nice Jessile was, almost the opposite of Ranalee. She was undemanding. Enthusiastic in bed. And discreet. At least she was now. Which was a good thing, he reflected. He was desperate to recover some of his public dignity after those months of excess following Birmingham Pool.

  Her fiance hadn't been in the city for three days before he was sent back out again, much to her dismay. They hadn't even managed to set a day for the wedding. So in the meantime, she was happy to carry on seeing him - just not so visibly.

  Two lonely people basically, he thought. There were few mornings when he didn't look out of the window, searching the brighter skies which would signal Salrana's return.

  He glanced guiltily at the letter propped up in one of the maisonette's alcoves. It had arrived yesterday. Salrana had written it three weeks earlier. That was how long a letter took to reach

  Makkathran from Tralsher province. In it she explained how she might have to stay on for a few more weeks. The Mothers were desperate for help, she said, and she couldn't let them down. There were so many people who looked to the Church for help in Ufford.

  'Lian got twenty-five years,' Edeard said as they sat down to supper. His ge-monkeys had been busy preparing the food the chefs in her mansion had packed in the hamper. 'The others got between three and eleven years.'

  'That's good,' she said.

  'Really? Have you noticed a drop in crime?'

  'Did you mention something about cynicism?'

  'Sorry.'

  'He's going to be another six weeks at least.'

  'Who? Oh. Right.'

  'I got a letter this morning. They're staying on in Reutte province to help another town. Eriach, I think.'

  'Yeah, it's on the western side of the Ulfsen Mountains.'

  'You know it?'

  'I passed it on my way here.'

  'Well, they've got bandit trouble now.'

  Edeard looked up from the asparagus and kafish quiche. 'What sort of trouble?'

  'Raids on hamlets, and the roads aren't safe. Honestly, the militia pushed them out of the estates around Tetuan and they just pop up again a few miles away.'

  'They have a habit of doing that. Frightening them away isn't good enough. They'll just come back later. If you want to be rid of them, you've got to push them back and back until they've nowhere to run to any more. Don't give them anywhere to hide. Then you can go in for the kill.' He stopped. 'That might work.'

  'What?'

  'Nothing, just an idea.'

  'There's not even any certainty that Eustace will come back after Eriach. Suppose the bandits appear somewhere else?' She started turning her silver vine ring, unconsciously rubbing the diamond.

  He put his hand on hers, squeezing lightly. 'He'll be back.'

  'Thanks. I know.'

  'Did he mention if they have guns?'

  'Guns? No. He hasn't said. Do you think it's likely? He might get shot!'

  'Some bandits have guns. Not many,' Edeard lied quickly, allowing her to sense a calm confidence in his thoughts. 'They just get hold of the odd pistol from farms, that kind of thing. To be honest, pistols have a very limited range anyway.'

  'Oh.' She gave him a nervous smile. 'Don't scare me like that.'

  'Sorry. No sane bandit is going to tangle with a mounted militia squad. He'll be perfectly safe. You'll be married off by midsummer.'

  'I hate that he had to go. It's all politics. Mayor Owain only sent the militia so he can look strong and benevolent at the same time. That's what Daddy said. And I'll bet Owain's Guild merchants are there following the militia around, selling guns to the locals.'

  'See? Everyone's a cynic'

  She grinned at him. 'I guess we are.'

  'Owain might have sent the militia for political gain, but it's been beneficial. Reutte needed help. The local sheriffs couldn't cope. Quite a few farming families have arrived in the city since New Year. I spoke with some of them; they were forced off their land.'

  'I know.'

  'He will come back.'

  'Thank you, Edeard. You're a lovely man.'

  After the meal they settled down to read a book Jessile had brought. Kadril's Voyage, which told of the legendary merchantmen captain who'd opened up the trade route to the south, finding a navigable route through the Straits of Gathsawal. Edeard enjoyed the tales of ocean life and fights against pirates, even though he suspected the author had enlivened the tales somewhat. They took it in turns to read to each other, slowly sipping red wine as the coal in the stove hissed and snapped. Edeard felt the tensions drain away from him. This was what he wanted his life to be like. Success in the courts, pushing the gangs from the streets, then home. Not back to the maisonette, but a true home, one with Salrana, maybe. He'd even seen a few vacant buildings in Cobara and Igadi that were possibles. They would need the room eventually, he hoped, for the children. Children who would know a city without the shadow of crime and the excesses of the families; playing in streets and parks where they were safe. And it could be done, his idea had been growing since supper, expanding in that lazy way that certainties possessed.

  'You look a lot happier,' Jessile murmured. She closed the book and leaned in against him.

  'You have a soothing voice,' he told her.

  Her nose rubbed against his cheek. 'My voice, is it?'

  'Yes.'

  'I wish you had a piano in here. I'm quite an accomplished player, you know. Music would be extra soothing.'

  It was that casual grumble which made him smile so merrily. She really had no idea how little a constable earned; on his pay it would take months for him to buy a piano. 'We'd never get it up the stairs.'

  'Never mind.' She kissed him, her thick hair brushing his face and neck. 'I bought a new satin chemise today. It's not very big, I'm afraid. Would you like to see me wearing it? Well… trying to wear it.'

  'Yes.'

  'Say please.'

  'Please,' he croaked hoarsely.

  She got up, showing him a truly immoral smile. 'Back in a minute.' She picked up the hamper and disappeared into the bathroom.

  Edeard took a breath to recover. He was beaming in anticipation as he rolled off the couch and ordered the light down to a cosy glimmer. At which point he became aware of Vilby walking over the bridge into Silvarum. 'Oh Lady, no!' he groaned.

  'What's the matter?' Jessile called out.

  'Er, I'm really sorry about this, but—'

  * * * *

  The squad was waiting where Edeard had told them, huddled together under an overhanging wall on Golard Street, where the pavement was only four feet wide. It was dark, with the nearest light coming from behind the undulations of a nebuly moulding on the wall two houses down.

 
'Saria was furious with me,' Boyd was saying. 'It was her great-aunt's annual ball, half the District Master families were there.' He was dressed in a splendid cerise frock coat, with a white shirt that was all lace frills. Silver buckles gleamed on his knee-length boots.

  'Sounds like you're making social progress,' Kanseen said. Her face wore a faint frown, she was glancing along the street as if searching for something.

  'I didn't know he was going to call us away so suddenly.'

  'He was really worried about this,' Macsen said. 'That's not like our great Waterwalker.'

  'Well you didn't help,' Dinlay said. 'Not the way you were shouting at Edeard the other day. All those wild accusations…'

  'Hey, I'm entitled,' Macsen said, raising a finger for emphasis and waving it right in front of Dinlay's face. 'That was my mother they attacked. And it's his fault.'

  'No it's not.'

  'Oh yeah, if he knows so much like he claims, then he should have warned us. If I'd known what was happening I could have stopped those thugs attacking my mother.'

  'We didn't tell him what was happening to us,' Kanseen said. 'We're all to blame.'

  'He doesn't trust us. lie couldn't even be arsed telling us about the ge-eagles. We're his decoys, that's all.'

  Edeard dissolved his concealment, appearing beside Macsen's shoulder. 'No you're not.'

  'Ho Lady!' Macsen jumped back in shock.

  'Where in Honious did you come from?' Dinlay demanded.

  'I've been here all the time.'

  'You heard…' Dinlay's thin face blushed hotly.

  'Now do you understand? This is not a game. I want to change this city. I want your help to do that.'

  'And you think that's the way to get it?' Macsen asked.

  'If a couple of insults and a bad temper can put an end to this squad, then we were never going to achieve anything. We were just some kids thrown together with nothing special holding us. I'm hoping that's not true. I'm not pretending I don't have a weakness. I made an arse of myself chasing girls. I'm too frightened to tell you everything I know about Ivarl. I didn't know how to handle the warehouse raid so I went along with Ronark's suggestion. And I'm certainly not sure where we go from here, although I've got an idea.' He shrugged. 'That's it.'

  Macsen glanced round the others, unhappiness shining though his shielded mind. 'All right, that's honest enough. Crap on inspiration, mind. But I'm willing to see what you want to show us.'

  'Me too,' Kanseen said.

  'Yeah,' Dinlay said.

  Boyd gave a soft chuckle. 'Count me in.'

  'Thank you,' Edeard said.

  'Do we get to learn the concealment trick?' Boyd asked eagerly. 'I always thought it was a city myth.'

  'Oh you get to know it,' Edeard said. 'You're going to need it. Ready for the gift?'

  'Yeah!' the squad chorused.

  After half an hour practising along the street, Edeard led them into the Black Horse tavern. They weren't perfect. Boyd's concentration kept slipping; Macsen's farsight wasn't half as good as ho always claimed, which meant he couldn't combine the ability with his third hand in a way that was truly effective. But Kanseen and Dinlay were surprisingly adept. Apart from the occasional lapse from Boyd and Macsen, when their ghost-like shape would flare out of nowhere, they remained invisible, certainly from casual scrutiny. The only way they knew where each other was standing was by a tiny direct longtalk, the kind of thing they'd practised a hundred times out on the streets. Edeard helped by dimming the tavern's lights around them, producing long deep shadows. They crept between them, passing unseen through the back rooms.

  Edeard's nerves built with every step up to the second floor where the private rooms were. Macsen was playing along for now, but how he'd react to this… Without Macsen, the squad would be seriously weakened, and he was going to need their full strength if he was to have any hope of success over the gangs.

  'Ready?' Edeard asked outside the door.

  'Yeah,' Dinlay whispered.

  Then Edeard heard a metallic click - a pistol's safety catch pulled back. 'Is one of you armed?'

  'Yes,' Boyd said.

  'Well, actually, all of us are,' Dinlay said defensively. 'We thought we were going to be raiding a gang hideout.'

  'Oh Lady, no, no, this isn't a raid. It's not actually dangerous, we just have to catch them in the act. So put the pistols away, please.'

  Several grumbles rolled along the apparently empty corridor. Fumbling sounds followed.

  'Ready?' Edeard asked again, reflecting on the impossibility of acting as a team when you couldn't actually see each other. 'Go!'

  As one they dissolved their concealment. Edeard used his third hand to smash the lock, and flung the door open. The squad charged in.

  Vilby's face was a mask of astonishment and fright; his head lifted off the pillows to stare at the squad. He couldn't move any further, his own handcuffs fastened his wrists to the odd metal hoops driven into the wall above the bed. Nanitte, who was straddling his chest holding a jar of honey in one hand, turned round and let out a soft gasp of shock. Then she saw one of the intruders was Macsen, and her face registered real concern. 'Ladycrapit.'

  Edeard could sense the longtalk yell she was directing out towards the other end of the city. It wasn't much: 'They've caught me with Vilby. I never sensed them coming, they were bloody invisible.' His own face was part of the accompanying gift she sent. No one replied to her.

  'Don't come back to the station,' Edeard told Vilby. 'And get you and your family out of the tenement by tomorrow evening. Only constables live there.'

  'But—'

  Edeard closed his third hand round the man's chest. Honey squelched out around the edges of his grip. 'Don't,' he growled in warning.

  Vilby sagged in defeat.

  Kanseen lifted an eyebrow as she gazed at the tacky mess covering the man's groin. 'Well, thanks a whole lot, Vilby, I'll never be able eat a meringue again.'

  Boyd sneered down. 'You know, you really need to leave them in the oven longer, a proper meringue is never that sticky in the middle.'

  'Is that right?' an interested Dinlay asked as they turned and walked out of the door.

  'Oh yes. Any half-wit baker's apprentice knows that.'

  Macsen hadn't said a word. He was staring at Nanitte, who returned the look unflinchingly.

  'Come on,' Kanseen said. She put her hand on Macsen's shoulder, and gently propelled him out of the room.

  Edeard gave Vilby a derisory wink and closed the door as he left.

  * * * *

  The waitress in the Olivan's Eagle was puzzled by the squad's lack of good humour as they clustered together in the corner booth. Edeard tipped her a brass farthing, and scooped the beer glasses off her tray with his third hand. He put the first one down in front of Macsen. 'Sorry,' he said cautiously.

  Macsen shook his head and put his hand round the glass. He stared intensely into the dark amber liquid with its thick head.

  'It's a war of who knows most,' Edeard said.

  'Lady,' Kanseen grunted heavily. 'I think we get that now, Edeard.' She took a long drink of beer. 'Was anyone I've…?'

  'No.'

  'That's lucky. For them. I would have ripped their balls off and stuffed them where the sun doesn't shine.'

  'Urn,' Boyd ventured. 'About Saria?'

  'A lovely girl. Don't worry.'

  'So it's just me, then is it?' Macsen said bitterly. He was still glaring at his beer. He hadn't managed to look at Dinlay since they'd left the Black Horse.

  'Not exactly,' Edeard cringed as he gave Dinlay an awkward glance. 'Chiaran.'

  'No!' Dinlay squawked in horror. 'She's a constable.'

  Boyd turned his head slowly to give Dinlay a fascinated look. 'Who's Chiaran?'

  'Her father is in debt to one of Ivarl's lieutenants in Fiacre. She's helping to pay it off.'

  'She can't be.'

  'You never said anything about a Chiaran to me,' Boyd said with a rising smile. 'You sly old th
ing.'

  'Sorry,' Edeard said.

  'Oh Lady!'

  'Well, aren't you the clever one?' Macsen said, still not looking up.

  'Actually, no,' Edeard said. He took a breath. 'I'm sure you all remember Ranalee.'

  Kanseen actually spilt some of her beer. 'What?'

  Edeard's shoulders slumped. 'The Gilmorn family has strong ties with Ivarl. It's all part of the way the port works - I discovered afterwards. Too late afterwards, unfortunately. I think that's how Ivarl found out I knew about Vilby.' He couldn't quite bring himself to tell them about that night.

  'Wait, he knows you knew?'

  'Yes.'

  'But… Oh, Lady be damned.' She took another gulp of beer.

  'So,' Boyd said with a frown. 'If he knew that you knew he… I don't get it.

  Why would he go ahead with the Chemistry Guild robbery if you both knew what was happening?'

  'I told you it's a war of who knows the most, and then how you apply it.'

  Macsen finally looked up, fixing Boyd with an icy glare. 'Get it now? All of this is a giant pissing contest between Ivarl and Edeard, which of them can outsmart the other.'

  'Which is why you have to understand,' Edeard said firmly. 'Fully understand.'

  'Well I understand now,' Macsen said bitterly. He faced up to Dinlay. 'I'm the idiot who got you shot. Me!'

  'Hardly,' Dinlay said with a nervous guffaw.

  'I told her. I said we were going to do undercover work after we talked about watching Boltan Street.'

  'When did we say that?' Edeard asked.

  'Day we caught Arminel in the store room,' Kanseen supplied.

  'Oh yeah.'

  'Arminel used it, didn't he?' Macsen said. 'He used that to mount the ambush at Birmingham Pool.'

  'We don't know anything for certain,' Edeard said. 'What I was trying to show you tonight is just how smart and organized Ivarl is. Not only that, his organization is big, it reaches right across the city.'

  'You've made your point,' Kanseen said. 'We were naive. That'll stop now.'

  'I'm sorry,' Macsen said. He was pleading with Dinlay now.

  'You didn't shoot me.'

  'It was my fault.'

  'No it wasn't,' Edeard said. 'You all know Arminel, what he's like. If they hadn't come after us that day, it would've been another. You don't send people like Nanitte to spy on us unless you're making a real effort to eliminate us.'