The Night's Dawn Trilogy

by Peter F. Hamilton

  She was silent for some time, considering the implications. The hours—years!—of my life I have sat in classrooms listening to teachers and reading books. And all the time, this way of learning, of discovery, existed. One of the demonic technologies that will ruin our way of life. Banned without question. That’s nothing to do with keeping Norfolk pastoral, that’s denying people opportunity, stunting their lives. It’s worse than cousin Gideon’s arm. She clenched her teeth together, suddenly very, very angry.

  “Hey, are you all right?” Andy asked timidly.

  The violet light came on again. “Yes,” she snapped primly. “I’m fine, thank you.”

  Andy didn’t say anything else until the didactic imprinter finished. Too scared he’d say the wrong thing again and annoy her further. He hadn’t got a clue why her mood had swung so fast. When the imprinter did come off, it revealed a very pensive expression.

  “Could you do me a favour?” Louise said. A knowing smile licked along her lips. “Keep an eye on Genevieve for me. I promised I’d buy her something from here, so if you could steer her to some kind of gadget that’s relatively harmless I’d be grateful.”

  “Sure, my pleasure. Consider her guarded from any possible digital grief.” Andy had to use a nerve override impulse to prevent her from seeing how crushing that request was. He’d been counting on using the time it took to implant the neural nanonics to talk to her. Yet again, Andy blows out, he raged silently. Just once, I’d like to score with a major babe. Once!

  The games section wasn’t nearly as exciting as Genevieve had expected. Jude’s Eworld was actively promoting a thousand games through its display screen catalogues, with direct access to ten times that many over encrypted links to publishers; covering the whole genre from interactive roles to strategy general’s command. But as she flipped through them she could see they were all variants of each other. Everybody promised newer, hotter graphics, unrivalled worldbuilding, tac-stim activants, ingenious puzzles, more terrifying adversaries, slicker music. Always greater than before, never different. She sampled four or five, standing inside a projection cone beamed out from a high-wattage AV lens on the ceiling. Bore-ing. In truth, she’d begun to tire of them back on the Jamrana; like spending a whole day eating chocolate cake, really.

  There didn’t seem to be much else in Jude’s Eworld that was interesting. Their main market was neural nanonics and associated software, or else no-fun processor blocks with strange peripherals.

  “Hi. How’s it going, there? Are you hyping cool yet?”

  Genevieve turned to see the gruesomely oiky little shopboy Andy smiling ingratiatingly at her. One of his front teeth was crooked. She’d never seen that on someone his age before. “I’m having a lovely time, thank you so much for caring.” It was the tone that would earn her a sharp slap from her mother or Mrs Charlsworth.

  “Uh huh.” Andy grunted, fully flustered. “Er, I thought perhaps I could show you what we’ve got to offer for kids your . . . I mean, the kind of blocks and software you might enjoy.”

  “Oh whoopee do.”

  His arms re-arranged themselves chaotically, indicating the section of the shop he wanted her to move towards. “Please?” he asked desperately.

  With an overlong sigh and slouched shoulders, Genevieve shuffled along despondently. Why does Louise always attract the wrong type? she wondered. Which sparked an idea. “She’s got a fiancé, you know.”

  “Huh?”

  A modest smile at his horror. “Louise. She’s engaged to be married. They announced the banns at our estate’s chapel.”

  “Married?” Andy yelped. He flinched, looking round the shop to see if any of his colleagues were paying attention.

  This was fun. “Yes. To a starship captain. That’s why we’re on Earth, we’re waiting for him to arrive.”

  “When’s he due, do you know?”

  “A couple of weeks, I think. He’s very rich, he owns his starship.” She glanced round in suspicion, then leaned in towards the boy. “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but I think the only reason Daddy gave his permission was because of the money. Our estate is very big, and it takes a lot to keep it running.”

  “She’s marrying for money?”

  “Has to be. I mean he’s so old. Louise said he’s thirty years older than she is. I think she was fibbing so it didn’t sound so bad. If you ask me, it’s more like forty-five.”

  “Oh my God. That’s disgusting.”

  “It looks so awful when he kisses her, I mean he’s virtually bald, and hideously fat. She says she hates him to touch her, but what can she do about it? He’s her future husband.”

  Andy stared down at her, his face stricken. “Why does your father allow this?”

  “All marriages are arranged on Norfolk, it’s just our way. If it makes you feel any better, I think he really likes Louise.” She’d have to stop now. Crying shame, but it was getting really difficult to keep a straight face. “He keeps on saying he wants to have a big family with her. He says he expects her to bear him at least seven children.” Jackpot! Andy had started trembling with indignation—or worse.

  Her day made, Genevieve gently took his hand in hers, and smiled up trustfully. “Can we see the hyper cool electronics now, please?”

  * * *

  Understanding arrived within Louise’s mind like a solstice sunrise. Quietly irresistible, bringing with it a fresh perspective on the world. A new season of life begun.

  She knew precisely how to utilise the augmented mentality opening up within her brain as the filaments connected with her neurones, controlling the expanded potential with an instinct that could have been a genetic heritage it was so deep seated. Audio discrimination, analysing the murmur of sounds resonating through the door from the shop. Visual memory indexing, saving and storing what she saw. Pattern analysis. A test datavise, requesting an update from the medical package on her wrist. And the neuroiconic display, sight without eyes, moulding raw data into colour. It left her giddy and sweating from excitement. The sense of achievement was extraordinary.

  I’m equal to everybody else now. Or I will be when I’ve learned how to use all the applications properly.

  She datavised the implant package on her neck for a status check. A procedural menu sprang up inside her skull, and she ran a comparison. It confirmed the implantation process was complete. She instructed the package to disengage, withdrawing the empty capsule from which the filaments had sprouted, and knitting the cells together behind it.

  “Steady on,” Andy said. “That’s supposed to be my job.”

  Louise grinned at him as she climbed off the bench, and stretched extravagantly, flexing the stiffness out of limbs held still for too long. “Oh, come on,” she teased. “All your clients must do that. It’s the first taste of freedom we get. Having neural nanonics must be like being allowed to vote, you’ve become a full member of society. Aren’t they wonderful gadgets?”

  “Um. Yeah.” He got her to lean forwards, and peeled the implant package from her neck. “You can actually become a full citizen, you know.” The strangely hopeful tone earned him an inquisitive look.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You could apply for residential citizenship. If you wanted. I checked the Govcentral legal memory core. It’s no problem; you just need a Govcentral citizen to sponsor you, and a hundred fuseodollars fee. You can datavise them for an application. I’ve got the eddress.”

  “That’s um . . . very kind, Andy. But I don’t really plan on staying here for long.” She smiled, trying to let him down gently. “I have a fiancé, you see. He’s going to come and take me away.”

  “But Norfolk laws wouldn’t apply to you,” Andy blurted desperately. “Not here. Not if you’re an Earth citizen. You’d be safe.”

  “I’m sure I am anyway. Thank you.” She smiled again, slightly more firm this time; and slipped past him out into the shop.

  “Louise! I want this,” Genevieve shrieked. The little girl was standing in the middle of
the shop, arms held rigid at her side as she turned round and round. There was a small block clipped onto her belt with DEMONSTRATOR printed in blue on its top. Louise hadn’t seen her smile like that in a long time.

  “What have you got, Gen?”

  “I gave her a pair of realview lenses to try,” Andy said quietly. “Like contact lenses, but they receive a datavise from the block which overlays a fantasyscape on what you’re seeing.” He datavised a code to her. “That’ll let you view direct from the block.”

  Louise datavised the code, marvelling at how smoothly she did it, and closed her eyes. The world started to spin around her. A very strange world. It had the same dimensions as the inside of Jude’s Eworld, but this was a cave of onyx, where every surface corresponded to walls and counters, fat stalagmites had replaced the flek sale bins. People had become hulking black and chrome cyborgs, whose limbs were clusters of yellow pistons.

  “Isn’t it fabulous?” Gen whooped. “It changes whatever you look at.”

  “Yes, Gen, it’s good.” She saw the mouth on one of the cyborgs clank apart to speak her own words, and smiled. The cyborg’s mouth froze open. Louise cancelled her reception from the realview block.

  “You can get about fifty different imagery programs for it,” Andy said. “This one’s Metalpunk Wasteland. Quite popular. There’s an audioplug peripheral to change the voices.”

  “Please, Louise! This one.”

  “All right, all right.”

  Andy datavised an off code to the demonstrator block. Genevieve pouted as the cave melted back into the shop. Andy started piling boxes and small flek cases up on the counter. “What supplements do you want?” he asked.

  Louise consulted the market menu already included in the NAS2600. “News hound, global eddress directory search, people tracker . . . um the pregnancy supplement for my physiological monitor, universal message script. I think that’s it.”

  “You’re entitled to another twenty.”

  “I know. Do I have to collect them all today? I’m not really sure what else I’ll need.”

  “Take as much time as you need to choose, and drop in whenever you want. But I’d recommend netA, that’ll give you your own eddress, you’ve got to pay an annual fee to the link company, but nobody will be able to contact you without one. Oh, and streetnav, too, if you’re going to stay in London—shows you the short cuts and how to use public transport.”

  “Okay, fine, put them on.” More flek cases began to appear on the counter. “And that electronic warfare block we talked about.”

  “Sure thing.”

  When he slapped it down, it didn’t look much different to her ordinary processor block, same anonymous oblong of dark grey plastic.

  “Who buys bugs and things like that from you?” she asked.

  “Could be anyone. Girl wanting to find out if her boyfriend’s cheating on her. Manager who needs to know which of his staff are ripping him off. Voyeur perverts. Mostly, though, it’s private detectives. Regular spooks convention at times, this place.”

  Louise didn’t approve of that notion that just anybody could come along and spy on their friends and enemies. There ought to be some restrictions on who could buy such items. But then regulation was one thing Earth didn’t seem to have much of.

  Andy handed over the shop’s accounts block with an apologetic smile. Louise tried not to shiver as she transferred the money over from her Jovian Bank disk. She gave the realview block and a packet of disposable lenses to Genevieve, who promptly tore the wrapping off with a gleeful, “Yesss.”

  “I’ll see you when you come back for the rest of your software?” Andy asked. “And if you change your mind about . . . the other thing, I’ll be happy to sponsor your application. I’m entitled to do that. I’m an adult citizen.”

  “Right,” she said gingerly. There was something very odd about the way he’d latched onto the idea. She was debating whether to quiz him further when she caught the glint of devilment in Gen’s eye. The little girl spun round quickly. “You’ve been very kind, Andy,” Louise said. “Please don’t worry about me.” She leant over the counter and gave him a light kiss. “Thanks.”

  Genevieve was already making for the door, giggling wildly. Louise snatched up the carrier bag full of fleks, and chased after her.

  * * *

  Louise lay back on her bed as the brilliant sun finally sank away below Green Park. Genevieve was sleeping on the bed next to her, exhausted by the very long day.

  Terrible child, Louise thought fondly. I must make sure she gets a set of neural nanonics when she turns sixteen. She closed her own eyes and put the news hound program into primary mode. The room’s net processor acknowledged her datavise, and she began asking for general items on the possessed. That was when she had her crash course on using news hound’s filter program accessories and designating more refined search parameters. It took an hour, but she was eventually able to slot the myriad events reported by Earth’s news agencies into an overall picture. The arrival of the Mount’s Delta was a weird one. The way its crewman had been shredded hinted strongly at Quinn Dexter to her mind.

  New York’s abrupt isolation was the principal current topic for the agencies, in fact it was just about their only topic. Govcentral’s North American Commissioner appeared before the reporters to assure everyone that it was just a precaution, and they were investigating a “possessed-type” incident in Dome One as a matter of procedure. No schedule was given for opening the vac-trains. Police squads, reinforced with riot-control mechanoids, were out in force on the streets as the arcology residents became highly restless.

  Then there was the event which caused Louise to jerk upright on the bed, opening her eyes wide in surprise and delight. Tranquillity’s arrival at Jupiter. Joshua was here! In this star system.

  She sank back onto the pillows, shaking with excitement. The universal message script was hurriedly brought into primary mode. She composed a file for him which she really hoped didn’t sound too desperate and pathetic, and datavised it triumphantly into the communication net. Her neural nanonics told her that Jupiter was five hundred and fifty million miles away, so the signal would take about forty minutes to reach it. She might have a reply within two hours!

  * * *

  Western Europe, who was monitoring her net connection, instructed the AI to block the message. The last thing he needed right now was some dunderhead boyfriend charging to the rescue, especially one as famous as Lagrange Calvert.

  9

  The party was a good one, though the guy with only one arm was kind of weird. Liol knew he was staring, and loaded a mild protocol reminder into his neural nanonics. It was just that he’d never seen anything like that before. Didn’t seem to affect the guy’s balance out on the dance floor, and the girl he was with obviously didn’t mind. Or perhaps she enjoyed the novelty value. Knowing the girls in this habitat, that was a strong option. Come to that, maybe the missing arm was an obscure fashion statement. Not impossible.

  Liol headed for the buffet table, picking his way through the crowd. Just about everyone smiled and said hello as they jostled together. He replied to most of them, their names familiar now without having to access a memory file. Plutocrat princes and princesses, with media celebrities jumbled in for variety. They tended to work hard during the day, expanding corporate empires, starting new dynasties, never taking their wealth for granted especially in these times. Tranquillity’s change of location was causing them unique problems in sustaining their traditional markets, but there were fabulous benefits to be had from being placed in the Confederation’s wealthiest star system. They’d set about exploiting that as ruthlessly and gleefully as only they could. But nights were given over to a single giant funtime: parties, restaurants, shows, clubs; Tranquillity boasted the best of them all in profusion.

  He wasn’t even sure who his host was. The apartment was as expensively anonymous as all the others he’d been in over the last few days, a hospitality showcase. Everything selec
ted by designers to demonstrate their talent and taste—bitched over by other designers. Just another party. No doubt he and Dominique would grace two or three more before the night was out. The social set he’d belonged to in Ayacucho had never been shy of a good time, and were wealthy enough to indulge themselves. But compared to this mob, they were jejune provincials.

  They were fascinated that he was Joshua’s brother. Smiled indulgently when he told them he had his own business back in Ayacucho. But he could reveal little about Lady Mac’s last flight. So conversation tended to dry up fast after that. He really didn’t know much about Confederation politics, or the money shifts in multistellar markets, or hot entertainment items (Jezzibella was Capone’s girl—oh, come on!); and he certainly didn’t relish discussing the possessed, and how the crisis was developing.

  He took a plate along the long table of canapés, deliberately picking the more bizarre-looking items. Jupiter was rising across the window behind the table, so he munched and stared, as overwhelmed by the spectacle as any hick farmboy. Not quite the reaction of a sophisticated starship crewman-about-the-galaxy. The aspiration he’d cherished for himself since first hearing Lady Mac was supposedly his rightful inheritance. Now he’d flown in Lady Mac, actually getting to pilot her. He’d seen new star systems, even fought in an orbital war and (ironically implausible) saved the Confederation—or at least alleviated some of the Navy’s burden. After the pinnacle, there was always the journey back down again. He would never, ever be as good a pilot as Joshua. The manoeuvres his brother had flown during the Beezling encounter had made that quite obvious. And the Confederation wasn’t such a fun place to roam through any more. Neither was life, now the beyond waited.

  A reflection in the window made him turn. Joshua and Ione were mingling among the guests. Talking with ease, laughing. A good-looking couple, Josh in a formal black jacket, her in a flowing green evening dress. He was about to go over when Joshua led Ione out onto the dance floor.