The Naked God - Faith nd-6

by Peter F. Hamilton

  Al leaned in closer to the sensor transmitting his image to the Illustrious. “Look, I’m just trying to do what’s right here. You’re going to kill people. Maybe I pushed you into that, maybe not. But now it’s here, I’m trying to stop it, I ain’t no goddamn maniac. So I offer you a way out that leaves both of us looking good.”

  “Let me get this straight, you are proposing to ferry every possessed down to the planet, disarm your fleet and hand back the asteroids?”

  “Hey, slow but smart. You got it. In return for letting us keep our bodies, we leave and don’t bother you again. That’s it. End of story.”

  “Moving that many people down to the planet would take some time.”

  “Emmet, my guy, he says about a week.”

  “I see. So while my ships sit out here doing nothing, what guarantee can you make that you’re not simply trying to pull another Trafalgar strike against us under cover of this withdrawal?”

  Al gave him the look. “That’s fucking low, pal. What’s to stop you shooting when we’re halfway through evacuating and I got fewer ships to give my people covering fire?”

  “In other words, we have to trust each other.”

  “Bet your ever-loving ass.”

  “Very well. My ships will not launch any offensive while your evacuation is in progress. And Mr Capone?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem. You just be sure and tell everyone back home that I ain’t no cracker-barrel fishball. I got me some style.”

  “Of course you have. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

  Al leaned back in his chair and switched off the super telephone machine. “No, guess you wouldn’t,” he said contentedly.

  Jezzibella stood in the bedroom doorway. She wore a blue towelling gown loosely over her green wrappings, helping to make her look slightly more human and not so much like a plastic version of the Tin Man out of Oz.

  He shot to his feet. “Hey, you shouldn’t be out of bed.”

  “It doesn’t make any difference if I’m lying down or not. The packages work either way.” She walked slowly across the lounge, barely flexing her knees. Lowering herself into the chair was difficult. Al made a real effort not to go over and help, he could see how much doing it all by herself meant. Toughest girl in the galaxy.

  “So what have you been doing?” she asked. The voice was muffled through the slit in her mask package.

  “Putting a stop to all this crap. My guys, they can scoot down to the planet and get home free.”

  “I thought so. That’s very statesmanlike of you, baby.”

  “I got a reputation to keep, you know.”

  “I know. But Al, what happens when the Confederation finds out how to bring planets back? I mean, that’s what all this was about, wasn’t it? Standing up to them on their home ground.”

  He reached over the table and gripped her hands. The fingers were sticking out from the end of the packages, allowing him some genuine contact with her skin. “We lost, Jez. Okay? We were so goddamn good, we lost. Go figure. We frightened them too much. I had to make a choice. The fleet can’t fight this admiral off. No way. So letting the planet go is the smart way to deal with it. The way I see it, my guys get years more living in their bodies. At least. And the Confederation longhairs ain’t gonna risk bringing them back until they’ve found a way of giving us new bodies, or something. They’d just start the whole thing over. Who knows, maybe New California can vanish from the next universe, too. There’s a lot of things can happen. This way, nobody dies, we all win.”

  “You’re the best, baby. I knew it right from the start. When do we go down?”

  Al squeezed her fingers a little tighter, looking into her face. He could just see her new eyes through the green package, like she was wearing swimming goggles, only they were full of liquid. “You can’t, Jez. Christ, your medical stuff only just works up here. Where New California’s headed, who knows what’s going to go bust. You’re healing up real good now, all the docs say so. But you need more time to get perfect. I ain’t gonna allow nothing to interfere with that.”

  “No, Al, I’m going with you.”

  “Wrong. I’m staying here. See, we’ll still be together.”

  “No.”

  “Yeah.” He sat back, and waved an arm round in a gesture that took in the whole asteroid. “Done deal, Jez. Someone’s got to stay here and keep the space weapons going while the guys fly down to the planet. I don’t trust that motherhumping admiral none.”

  “Al, you can’t operate the SD platforms. For fuck’s sake, you don’t even know how to work the hotel air conditioner.”

  “Yeah. But the admiral don’t know that.”

  “They’ll catch you. They’ll expel you from that body. It’ll be the beyond for the rest of time. Please, Al. I’ll work the SD platforms. Be safe. I can live as long as I know you’re safe.”

  “You’re forgetting something, Jez: everyone forgets, except maybe good old brown-nose Bernhard. I’m Al Capone. I ain’t scared of the beyond. Never was. Never will be.”

  The voidhawk from New California arrived just as First Admiral Aleksandrovich’s flyer touched down. It meant he could walk into the Polity Council meeting primed with some good news—always a good negotiating position to be in.

  His first surprise came at the Polity Council chamber door. Jeeta Anwar was waiting outside for the navy delegation.

  “The President has asked me to inform you that no aides are required for this session,” she said.

  Samual Aleksandrovich gave Keaton and al-Sahhaf a bemused glance. “They’re not that dangerous,” he said jovially.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” Jeeta said.

  Samual considered making a fuss; he didn’t like that kind of surprise being thrown at him. If nothing else, it told him the coming meeting was going to be unusual, and probably disagreeable. Having his aides with him couldn’t stop that. “Very well.”

  The second surprise was how few ambassadors were sitting around the big circle of antique sequoia in the council chamber. Three in total, representing New Washington, Oshanko, and Mazaliv. Lord Kelman Mountjoy was also present. Samual Aleksandrovich gave him a cautious nod as he sat to the left of Olton Haaker.

  “I don’t believe you have a quorum here,” he said mildly.

  “Not of the Polity Council, no,” President Haaker said.

  Samual didn’t like the man’s stilted voice; something was making the President very nervous. “Then please tell me what this meeting is.”

  “We are here to formulate future policy towards the possessed situation,” Kelman Mountjoy said. “It’s not something the old Confederation is capable of addressing satisfactorily.”

  “The old Confederation?”

  “Yes. We are proposing a restructuring.”

  Samual Aleksandrovich listened in growing dismay as the Kulu foreign minister explained the reasoning behind the core-Confederation idea. Stopping the slow spread of possession, strengthening the defences of the key star systems. Establishing a solid, economically stable society capable of finding an overall solution.

  “Do you propose including the Edenists?” Samual asked when he’d finished.

  “They were not receptive to the concept,” Kelman said. “However, since they have a reserve position along very similar lines, their ultimate inclusion is highly probable. We would have no problem continuing to trade with them, as they are by and large immune to the kind of infiltration that results from quarantine-busting flights.”

  “And they supply every Adamist world with energy,” Samual said scathingly.

  Kelman managed not to smile. “Not all,” he said softly. Samual turned to the President. “You cannot allow this to happen, it is economic apartheid. It transgresses every ethic of equality which the Confederation represents. We must protect everybody alike.”

  “The Navy isn’t even capable of doing that now,” Olton Haaker said sadly. “And you’ve seen the economic projections my
office compiled. We cannot afford the current level of deployment, let alone sustain it for any reasonable length of time. Something has to give, Samual.”

  “In effect, it’s already given,” Kelman said. “The attack on Arnstat and New California was an admission that we can no longer afford to indulge the current status quo. The Polity Council chose, and you agreed, that we had to lose those planets in order to help safeguard the rest. The core-Confederation is the logical conclusion of that development. It safeguards our entire race by ensuring that there will always be a part of it free from possession and able to search for a solution.”

  “I find it interesting that your proposal safeguards only your part of the human race. The rich section.”

  “Firstly, by ending the unrealistic level of subsidy our worlds extend to stage-two star systems, they will also contract and therefore become safer. Secondly, there is no point in the richer star systems impoverishing and weakening themselves when to do so will not result in a solution. We have to address the real facts, and do so with resolution.”

  “The quarantine works. In time, and if everyone pools their intelligence data, we can end the illegal flights. There is no more Organization; Capone has surrendered New California to Admiral Kolhammer.”

  “These arguments are the ebb and flow in the tide of obsolete politics,” Kelman said. “Yes, you’ve nullified Capone. But we’ve now lost Earth. Mortonridge has been effectively liberated, but at a shocking price. Zero-tau can de-possess someone, but the released body will be plagued with cancer and tie up our medical facilities for years. This has all got to stop. A line must be drawn under the past in order to free our future.”

  “You approach this as if possession is the whole problem,” Samual said. “It is not, it is a spinoff from the fact we have immortal souls and some of them are entrapped in the beyond. The answer to this—how we learn to live with such knowledge, whatever it is—must be embraced by the entire human race; from some delinquent mugger on a stage-one colony planet right up to your king. We have to face this as one. If you split us up, you cannot reach and educate the very people who are most likely to be blighted by this revelation. I cannot agree to this. I will not agree to this.”

  “Samual, you have to,” the President said. “Without funding from the core-Confederation worlds, there can be no Navy.”

  “Every planetary system funds the Confederation Navy.”

  “Not equally, they don’t,” said Verano, the New Washington ambassador. “Between us, the worlds proposing to form the core-Confederation provide eighty per cent of your overall funding.”

  “You can’t just split . . . Ah! Now I understand.” Samual gave Olton Haaker a contemptuous look. “Did they offer you the new presidency in exchange for pushing the transition? You might call this coalition the core-Confederation, but in effect you’d all be withdrawing from the actual Confederation. There is no continuation, certainly not in legal terms. Every one of my officers renounced their national citizenship upon joining; the Confederation Navy is responsible to the Assembly in its entirety, not special interest blocs.”

  “A hell of a lot of your fleets are made up from national detachments,” Verano said hotly. “They will be taken back along with fleet bases. You’d be left with ships you couldn’t support in star systems you couldn’t defend.”

  Kelman held up a hand, raising his index finger, which silenced the ambassador. “The Navy will do as you say, Samual, we all acknowledge that. As for legality and ownership, ambassador Verano has a point. We have paid for those ships.”

  “And the core-Confederation would become the new law,” Samual said.

  “Precisely. You want to protect humanity, then become a realist. The core-Confederation will be brought into existence. You understand politics probably better than most of us; you would never have been appointed First Admiral otherwise. We have decided this is the best way our interests are served. We are doing it so that ultimately a solution will be achieved. It’s in our own petty selfish interest to make sure a solution is found, God knows I have no wish to die now I know what awaits. If nothing else, you can trust us to put unlimited resources into the problem. Help us safeguard our boundaries, Admiral, bring the fleet over to the core-Confederation. We are the guarantee of ultimate success for our whole race. That is what you were sworn to protect, I believe.”

  “I do not need reminding of my honour by you,” Samual said.

  “I apologise.”

  “I will need to think about this before I give you an answer.” He rose to his feet. “I will also consult my senior officers.”

  Kelman bowed. “I know this is difficult. I’m sorry you were ever put in such a position.”

  Samual didn’t speak to his two aides until he was back on the Marine flyer and heading up to the orbiting station that was serving as his new headquarters.

  “Can the remaining star systems afford to keep the Navy going by themselves?” al-Sahhaf asked.

  “I doubt it,” Samual said. “God damn it, they’ll be left absolutely defenceless.”

  “A neat piece of applied logic,” Keaton said. “They are going to be left defenceless anyway. If you don’t bring the Navy to the core-Confederation, then you will have achieved nothing for them, and weakened the core-Confederation at the same time.”

  “Are you saying we should go along with this?”

  “Personally sir, no I don’t. But it’s the oldest political squeeze manoeuvre there is. If we’re left out in the cold we can achieve nothing. If we join up, then there’s the opportunity to influence policy from inside, and from a considerable position of strength.”

  “Lord Mountjoy isn’t stupid,” al-Sahhaf said. “He’ll be willing to negotiate with you in private. Perhaps we can maintain the CNIS throughout the class-two star systems, continue to provide the governments intelligence on possessed movements.”

  “Yes,” Samual said. “Mountjoy would favour that, or something very similar. It’s the ebb and flow of politics.”

  “Do you want to meet him, sir?” Keaton asked.

  “That almost sounds as though you’re putting temptation in my way, Captain.”

  “No, sir!”

  “Well, I don’t want to meet him. Not yet. I am not prepared to see the Navy disbanded and junked through my stubbornness. It’s a powerful force to counter the possessed at a physical level, and that must not be lost to the human race. I need to talk this through with Lalwani, and see if the Edenists would consider supporting the fleet. If they can’t, then I’ll meet Mountjoy and discuss handing it over to the core-Confederation. We must remember that military force ultimately exists to serve the civilian populace, even though we might despise their choice of leaders.”

  The intensity of the cold was astonishing. Waves of it slithered right through every part of the escape pod, washing the heat away. The temperature sink was so profound it began to alter the colour of plastic components, bleaching them like a dose of ultra violet light. Tolton’s breath condensed into a layer of iron-hard frost on every surface.

  They’d taken the survival clothing from the supply lockers, and he’d put on as many layers as it was physically possible to do. He looked even fatter than Dariat, his face shrouded by thick bandages of cloth he’d wound round and round to protect his ears and neck. His exposed skin had acquired its own sprinkling of frost, each eyelash resembling a miniature icicle.

  The pod’s power cells were draining away as fast as the heat. At first the environmental circuit had chugged away merrily, heating the air and extracting the water vapour. Then they ran a simple analysis and realized that at their current rate of use the cells would be empty in forty minutes. Dariat slowly shut down all the pod’s systems, like navigation and communications, and thrusters. Then when Tolton was snug in two heated suits and all his insulated clothes, he switched off everything except the carbon dioxide scrubber and a single fan. At that consumption rate, the power cells should have lasted two days.

  Tolton’s heated
suits went through their inventory of power cells a lot quicker than they’d expected. The last one was exhausted fifteen hours after they’d entered the mélange. After that he started drinking soup out of self-heating sachets.

  “How much longer is the hull going to hold out?” he asked between juddering sips. He was wearing so much clothing he couldn’t bend his arms, so Dariat had to hold the sachet nipple to his lips.

  “Not sure. My extra senses aren’t up to that kind of work.” Dariat beat his own arms against his chest. The cold didn’t affect him as badly, but even so he’d clad himself in several woolly sweaters and some thick track suit bottoms. “The nulltherm foam has probably gone by now. The hull will just evaporate away until it’s so thin the pressure from the mélange implodes us. It’ll be quick.”

  “Pity. I could do with feeling something. Bit of pain would be a nice sensation right now.”

  Dariat grinned over at his friend. Tolton’s lips were jet black, the skin peeling away.

  “What’s wrong?” Tolton croaked.

  “Nothing. Just thinking, we could try firing one of the rockets. Maybe that would heat the pod up a bit.”

  “Yeah. It would push us out to the other side quicker, too.”

  “ ’Bout time that happened. So, if you could have anything you wanted waiting for us, what would it be?”

  “Tropical island, with beaches stretching on for kilometres. Sea as warm as bathwater.”

  “Any women there?”

  “Oh God yes.” He blinked, and his lashes stuck together. “I can’t see anything.”

  “Lucky you. Do you know what a sight you are?”

  “What about you? What do you want waiting on the other side?”

  “You know that: Anastasia. I lived for her. I died for her. I sacrificed my soul for her . . . wel, her sister anyway. I thought she might be watching at the time. Wanted to make a good impression.”

  “Don’t worry, you already have, man. I keep telling you, a love like yours is going to make her giddy. The chicks really dig that kind of mad devotion crap.”