The Naked God - Faith nd-6

by Peter F. Hamilton

  “Where do they all come from? Are they all your observers?”

  None of them are observers. These are the species who live in this galaxy, and some others. All are friends of Kiint.

  “Oh. Right.” Jay walked over to the edge of the avenue. It was guarded by a tall rail, as if it were nothing more than an exceptionally big balcony. She stood on her toes and peeked over. They were above a compact city, or possibly a district of industrial structures. There didn’t appear to be any movement in the lanes between the buildings. Right in front of her, spacecraft swished along parallel to the peninsula’s crystal roof as they vectored in on their landing sites.

  The Congression was high enough above the land to lose fine details amid the broader colour swathes of mountains and savannahs. But as though to compensate, the curvature of the horizon could be seen, a splinter of purple neon separating the land and the sky. A coastline was visible far ahead. Or behind. Jay wasn’t sure which way they were travelling. If they were.

  She contented herself with watching the spacecraft flying past. “So what are they all doing here, then?”

  Different species come here to perform exchanges. Some have ideas to give, some require knowledge to make ideas work. Corpus facilitates this. The Congressions act as junctions for those who seek and those who wish to give. Here they can find each other.

  “That all sounds terribly noble.”

  We have opened our worlds to this act for a long time. Some races we have known since the beginning of our history, others are new. All are welcome.

  “Apart from humans.”

  You are free to visit.

  “But nobody knows about Riynine. The Confederation thinks Jobis is your homeworld.”

  I have sadness. If you can come here, you are welcome.

  Jay eyed a quartet of adult Kiint walking along the avenue. They were accompanied by what looked suspiciously like spectres of some slender reptilians dressed in one-piece coveralls. They were certainly translucent, she could see things through them. “I get it. It’s sort of like a qualifying test. If you’re smart enough to get here, you’re smart enough to take part.”

  Confirm.

  “That’d be really helpful for us, learning new stuff. But I still don’t think people want to spend their life philosophising. Well . . . one or two like Father Horst, but not many.”

  Some come to the Congressions asking for our aid, and to improve their technology.

  “You give them that, machines and things?”

  Corpus responds to everyone at a relative level.

  “That’s why the provider wouldn’t give me a starship.”

  You are lonely. I brought you here. I have sorrow.

  “Hey,” she put her arm round the baby Kiint’s neck, and stroked her breathing vents. “I’m not sorry you brought me here. This is something not even Joshua has seen, and he’s been everywhere in the Confederation. I’ll be able to impress him when I get back. Won’t that be something?” She gazed out at the fanciful craft again. “Come on, let’s find a provider. I could do with some ice cream.”

  Chapter 03

  Rocio waited a day after the Organization’s convoy returned from the antimatter station before he abandoned his routine high orbit patrol above New California and swallowed out to Almaden. Radar pulses from the asteroid’s proximity radar washed across Mindori , returning an odd fuzzy blob on the display screens. It fluctuated in time with the human heart. The visual-spectrum sensors showed the huge dark harpy with its wings folded, hovering two kilometres out from the counter-rotating spaceport. A glitter of red light could just been seen through eyelids that weren’t completely shut.

  In turn, Rocio focused his own senses on Almaden’s docking ledge. Each of the pedestals had been struck by laser fire, spilling a sludge of metal and plastic out across the rock where it had solidified into a grey clinker-like puddle with a surface badly pocked by burst gas bubble craters. The nutrient fluid refinery and its three storage tanks had also been targeted.

  Rocio shared his view with Pran Soo who was back at Monterey. What do you think?he asked his fellow hellhawk.

  The refinery isn’t as badly damaged as it looks. It’s only the outer layers of machinery which have been struck. Etchells just ripped his laser backwards and forwards over it, which no doubt looked spectacular. Lots of molten metal spraying everywhere, and tubes detonating under the pressure. But the core remains intact, and that’s where the actual chemical synthesis mechanism is.

  Typical.

  Yes. Fortunately. There’s no practical reason why this can’t be returned to operational status. Providing you can get the natives to agree.

  They’ll agree,rocio said. We have something they want: ourselves.

  Good luck.

  Rocio shifted his senses to the counter-rotating spaceport, a small disk whose appearance suggested it was still under construction. It was mostly naked girders containing tanks and fat tubes, with none of the protective plating that spaceports usually boasted. Three ships were docked: a pair of cargo tugs and the Lucky Logorn . The inter-orbit craft had returned ten hours earlier. If the Organization lieutenants in the asteroid were going to discipline the crew, they would have done it by now.

  Rocio opened a short range channel. “Deebank?”

  “Good to see you.”

  “Likewise. I’m glad you haven’t been thrown out of your new body.”

  “Let’s just say, there are more people sympathetic to my cause than there are to the Organization.”

  “What happened to the lieutenants?”

  “Complaining to Capone direct from the beyond.”

  “That was risky. He doesn’t take rebellion kindly. You may find several frigates arriving to make the point.”

  “We figure he’s got enough problems with the antimatter right now. In any case, the only real option he’s got left against this asteroid is to nuke us. If that looks likely, we’ll shift out of this universe and take our chances. We don’t want to do that.”

  “I understand perfectly. I don’t want you to do that, either.”

  “Fair enough, you and I both have our own problems. How can we help each other?”

  “If we’re going to break free from the Organization we require an independent source of nutrient fluid. In return for you repairing your refinery, we are prepared to transport your entire population to a planet.”

  “New California won’t take us.”

  “We can use one which the Organization has already infiltrated. Myself and my friends have enough spaceplanes to make the transfer work. But it will have to be soon. Without the antimatter station there will be no new infiltrations, and those that have been seeded will not remain in this universe for much longer.”

  “We can start repairing the refinery right away. But if we all leave, how are you going to maintain it?”

  “Spare parts must be manufactured in sufficient quantity to keep the refinery functional for a decade. You will also have to adapt your mechanoids for remote waldo operation.”

  “You’re not asking for much.”

  “I believe it’s an equal trade.”

  “Okay, cards on the table. My people here say the components shouldn’t be any problem, our industrial stations can handle that. But we can’t produce the kind of electronics which the refinery needs. Can you get hold of them for us?”

  “Datavise a list over. I will make enquiries.”

  Jed and Beth had listened to the exchange in the stateroom cabin they’d moved into. They were spending a lot of time in the neatly furnished compartment by themselves. In bed. There wasn’t a lot else to do since Jed’s mission to resupply their food stocks. And despite Rocio’s assurances that his plans were progressing smoothly, they couldn’t shake off their sense of impending disaster. Such conditions had completely suppressed their inhibitions.

  They were lying together on top of the bunk in post-coital languor, stroking each other in cozy admiration. Sunlight streaming in through the wooden slat
s that covered the porthole was painting warm stripes across them, helping to dry damp skin.

  “Hey, Rocio, you really think you can make this deal swing?” she asked.

  The mirror above the teak dresser shimmered to reveal Rocio’s face. “I think so. Both of us want something from the other. That is the usual basis for trade.”

  “How many hellhawks want in?”

  “A sufficient number.”

  “Oh yeah? If a whole load of you bugger off, Kiera’s gonna do her best to cripple you. You’ll have to defend Almaden for a start. You’ll need combat wasps for that.”

  “Good heavens, do you really think so?”

  Beth glared at him.

  “There are no suitable asteroid settlements available in other star systems,” Rocio continued. “This is our one chance to secure an independent future for ourselves, despite its proximity to the Organization. We will make quite sure we’re capable of defending that future, never fear.”

  Jed sat up, making sure the blanket was covering his groin when he faced the mirror (Beth never did understand that brand of shyness). “So where do we fit in?”

  “I don’t know yet. I may not need you, after all.”

  “You gonna turn us in to Capone?” Beth asked, hoping her voice didn’t waver.

  “That would be difficult. How would I explain your presence on board?”

  “So you just let Deebank and his mates in here to take care of us, huh?”

  “Please, we are not all like Kiera. I had hoped you’d realize that by now. I have no desire to see the children possessed.”

  “So where are you going to let us off?” Beth asked.

  “I have no idea. Although I’m sure the Edenists will be happy enough to retrieve you from my corrupt clutches. Details can be worked out when we have locked down our own position. And I have to say that I’m disappointed by your attitude, given what I saved you from.”

  “Sorry, Rocio,” Jed said immediately.

  “Yeah, didn’t mean no offence for sure,” Beth said, one degree above sarcasm.

  The image faded, and they looked at each other. “You shouldn’t annoy him so much,” Jed protested. “Jeeze, babe, we’re like totally dependent on him. Air, water, heat, even bloody gravity. Stop pushing!”

  “I was just asking.”

  “Well don’t!”

  “Yes, sir. Forgot for a moment that you were in charge of everything.”

  “Don’t,” Jed said remorsefully. He reached out and stroked her cheek tenderly. “I never said I was in charge, I’m just worried.”

  Beth knew full well that when he looked at her body the way he was doing now, what he actually saw was the memory of Kiera’s fabulous figure. It didn’t bother her any more, for reasons she didn’t question too closely. Need overcoming dignity, most likely. “I know. Me too. Good job we’ve found something to keep our minds off it the whole time, huh?”

  His grin was sheepish. “Too right.”

  “I’d better get going. The kids’ll be wanting their supper.”

  Navar squealed and pointed when they walked into the galley. “You’ve been at it again!”

  Jed tried to bat her hand away, but she dodged back, laughing and sneering. He could hardly rebuke her; he and Beth hadn’t exactly been secretive about what they were doing.

  “Can we eat now?” Gari asked plaintively. “I’ve got everything ready.”

  Beth gave the preparations a quick inspection. The girls and Webster had prepared six trays for the induction oven, mixing food packets together. Potato cakes with rehydrated egg mash and cubes of carrot. “Well done.” She keyed in the quantity on the oven’s control panel, and activated it. “Where’s Gerald?”

  “Going crazy in the main lounge. What else?”

  Beth gave the girl a sharp glance.

  Navar refused to give ground. “He is,” she insisted.

  “You dish the food out,” Beth told Jed. “I’ll go see what the problem is.”

  Gerald was standing in front of the lounge’s large viewport, palms pressed against it, as though he was trying to push the glass out of its frame.

  “Hey there, Gerald, mate. Supper’s ready.”

  “Is that where she is?”

  “Where, mate?”

  “The asteroid.”

  Beth stood behind him, looking over his shoulder. Almaden was centred in the viewport. A dark lump of rock, rotating slowly against the starscape.

  “No mate, sorry. That’s Almaden, not Monterey. Marie isn’t in there.”

  “I thought it was the other one. Monterey, where she is.”

  Beth gave his hands a close inspection. The knuckles were lightly grazed from pounding on something. Fortunately, they weren’t bleeding. She gently put her hand on his forearm. Every muscle was locked rigid beneath her fingers, trembling. His forehead was beaded in sweat.

  “Come on, mate,” she said quietly. “Let’s get some tucker down you. Do you good.”

  “You don’t understand!” He was near to tears. “I have to get back to her. I don’t even remember when I saw her last. My head is so full of darkness now. I hurt.”

  “I know, mate.”

  “Know!” he screamed. “What do you know? She’s my baby, my beautiful little Marie. And she makes her do things, all the time.” He shuddered violently, his eyelids fluttering. For a moment, Beth thought he was going to fall over. She tightened her grip as he swayed unsteadily.

  “Gerald? Jeeze . . .”

  His eyes abruptly sprang open, hunting frantically round the room. “Where are we?”

  “This is the Mindori ,” she said calmly. “We’re on board, and we’re trying to find a way to get back to Monterey.”

  “Yes.” He nodded quickly. “Yes, that’s right. We have to go there. She’s there, you know. Marie’s there. I have to find her. I can free her, I know how to. Loren told me before she left. I can help her escape.”

  “That’s good.”

  “I’m going to talk to the captain. Explain. We have to fly back there right away. He’ll do it, he’ll understand. She’s my baby.”

  Beth stood completely still as he turned round sharply, and hurried out. She let out a long despondent breath. “Oh shit.”

  Jed and the three kids were sitting round the small bar in the galley, spooning up the pinkish mush from their trays. They all gave Beth an apprehensive glance as she came in. She tilted her head at Jed, and retreated back into the corridor. He followed her out.

  “We’ve got to get him to a doctor, or something,” she said in a low voice.

  “Told you that the day we first saw him, doll. The fella’s a genuine braincrash.”

  “No, it’s not just that, not just in his head. He’s really ill. His skin’s all hot, burning, like he’s got a fever, or a virus.”

  “Oh Jeeze , Beth.” Jed pressed his forehead against the cool metal wall. “Think, will you. What the hell can we do? We’re inside a bleeding hellhawk fifty trillion light-years from anyone who’d give a toss about us. There’s nothing we can do. I’m real sorry about him catching some xenoc disease. But all I’m worried about now is that he doesn’t infect us with it.”

  She hated him for being right. Being completely impotent, not to mention dependent on Rocio, was tough. “Come on.” With a final check on the kids to make sure they were eating, she hauled Jed into the lounge. “Rocio.”

  A translucent image of his face materialized in the viewport. “Now what?”

  “We’ve got a real problem with Gerald. Reckon he’s sick with something. It’s not good.”

  “He’s here on your insistence. What do you want me to do about it?”

  “I dunno for sure. Have you got a zero-tau pod? We could shove him in there until we leave. The Edenist doctors can give him a proper going over then.”

  “No. There’s no working zero-tau pod anymore. The possessed are understandably nervous about such items; the first ones to come on board broke it up.”

  “Bugger! What do we do?
”

  “You’ll have to nurse him along as best you can.”

  “Terrific,” Jed muttered.

  Almaden began to slide across the viewport.

  “Hey, where are we going now?” Jed asked. The asteroid vanished below the rim, leaving only stars which were slicing thin arcs across the blackness as the hellhawk accelerated in a tight curve.

  “Back to my patrol route,” Rocio said, “and hope no one has noticed my absence. Deebank has datavised the list of electronic components they need to get the nutrient refinery functioning again. They’re all available at Monterey.”

  “Well glad to hear it, mate,” Jed said automatically. A cold thought ran clean through his brain. “Wait a minute. How are you going to get the Organization to hand them over?”

  Rocio’s translucent image winked, then vanished.

  “Oh Jeeze. Not again!”

  In peacetime, Avon’s starship emergence zones were positioned round the planet and its necklace of high-orbit asteroids at convenient distances to the stations and ports which they served. The one exception was Trafalgar, which, of necessity, was always on alert for suspicious arrivals. Following the official outbreak of war, or as the diplomats in Regina preferred: crisis situation, all the emergence zones were automatically shifted further away from their port. Every Confederation almanac carried the alternative coordinates, and the onus was on captains to ensure they were aware of any official declaration.

  Emergence zone DR45Y was situated three hundred thousand kilometres away from Trafalgar, designated for use by civil starships flying with government authorization. The sensor satellites which scanned it were no less proficient than those covering the zones designated for various types of warships, there was after all no telling what vessels an enemy might employ. So when the gravitonic distortion scanners began to pick up the familiar signature of a ship starting to emerge, additional sensor batteries were brought on line within milliseconds. The rapidly expanding warp in space-time was the focus of five SD weapons platforms. Trafalgar’s SD control also vectored four patrol voidhawks towards it and put another ten on rapid-response alert status.