The Void Trilogy 3-Book Bundle

by Peter F. Hamilton

  “Makkathran!” Edeard said as they hurried away from the wagon. Now that Barkus had said he would take them, all his earlier worries and doubts had dried up. He had thought that he was running away, that he was being a coward for putting all the provinces between himself and the bandits, for allowing them to deal with the problem and endure their blood being spilled to safeguard the land while he lived a safe comfortable life in the city. But now they were going, and that was that. “Imagine it.”

  “I can’t believe it.” Salrana’s smile was wide and carefree. “Do you think it will be as wonderful as the stories we’ve heard?”

  “If it is only a tenth as fabulous as they say, it will be beyond anything I have dreamed.”

  “And we’ll be safe.” She sighed.

  “Yes.” He put his arm around her shoulder—in a brotherly fashion.

  “We’ll be safe. And what splendid lives we’ll live in the capital of the world.”

  The glitch had been surprisingly easy to find. But then Troblum supposed Emily Alm had not had a lot of time to insert it, nor would she suspect he’d come looking, at least not right away. She had made several modifications to the blueprint. In itself each one was relatively innocuous, and that made them even harder to spot; but the cumulative effect was enough to throw the binding effect out of kilter. It was less than an hour’s work for him to remove them. Then he restarted the production process.

  With that under way, his u-shadow established a secure one-time link back to his apartment. Now he knew that Marius was trying to manipulate him and would go to any lengths to achieve what he wanted, Troblum needed an escape route. There was only one that would put him beyond even the representative’s reach: the colonies. After the Starflyer War, each of the old dynasties had been left with a fleet of redundant lifeboats, starships capable of evacuating the entire senior strata of each dynasty to the other side of the galaxy, where they would have been safe had the Prime alien won. Given the phenomenal amount of money poured into their construction, the dynasty leaders were never going to scrap them simply because the Commonwealth had been victorious. Instead, the lifeboats set off to found new worlds and cultures completely independent of the Commonwealth. Over forty ships had launched, though that figure was ambiguous; the dynasty leaders were reluctant to admit how much money they had poured into their own salvation at the expense of everyone else. In the following centuries, more colony ships had set forth. No longer exclusive to dynasties, they had carried an even broader selection of beliefs, families, and ideologies, seeking to break free to a degree that even the External worlds could never offer. The last major departure had been in AD3000, when Nigel Sheldon himself had led a fleet of ten starships, the largest craft ever built, to set up a “new human experience” elsewhere. It was strongly rumored at the time that the ships had a transgalactic flight range.

  With the ultrasecure link to his apartment established, Troblum used a similarly guarded connection for his u-shadow to trawl the unisphere for the possible destinations of the colony ships within this galaxy. There were over a hundred departures listed and thousands of articles on each of them. A lot of those articles speculated on why not one colony had gotten back in touch, even if only to send a “so there” message. Certainly there was no record of any navy starship stumbling across a human world anywhere else in the galaxy, not that they had explored a fraction of a percent of the available H-congruous stars. It was the core of Living Dream dogma that most, if not all, such voyages had wound up inside the Void. However, a lot of genuine academic work had gone into estimating probable locations despite the best efforts of the dwindling dynasties to suppress such work. Even assuming the studies were correct, the areas that needed to be searched were vast, measuring hundreds of light-years across. But Mellanie’s Redemption was a fine ship. She should be able to make the trip out to the Drasix cluster, fifty thousand light-years away, where the Brandt Dynasty ships were said to have flown.

  Troblum knew he would not miss the Commonwealth; there was nobody he had any attachment to, and most of the colony worlds would have a decent level of civilization. If he did find the Brandt world, they presumably would be glad to accept his knowledge of biononics, which had been developed long after their ships had departed. That left only the problem of what to do with his Starflyer War artifacts. He couldn’t bear to be parted from them, yet if he transported them to the hangar, Marius might notice. He began instructing the apartment net on shipping arrangements, then made a painful call to Stubsy Florac.

  The Neumann cybernetics took thirty-two hours to produce a planet-shifting FTL engine. Troblum stood underneath the sparkling cylinder as the terminal extruder was finished, marveling at its elegance. His field functions reported a dense knot of energies and hyper-stressed matter all in perfect balance. So much exotic activity was present, it almost qualified as a singularity in its own right.

  If the colony doesn’t want biononics, they’ll surely want this.

  He watched in perfect contentment as force fields maneuvered the cylinder into Mellanie’s Redemption. The modified forward cargo hold closed, and Troblum sent the device into standby mode. Nobody would be able to break the command authority encryption, not even ANA, he suspected. The device was his and his alone.

  Once it was safe and shielded, he went back into the office and restored Emily Alm’s glitches to the blueprint, then began adding some of his own, at a much deeper function level. Now the engine really was unique.

  Marius called several hours later. “Have you finished your analysis yet?”

  “Just about. I think I’m going to have to initiate a complete redesign of the exotic stress channels.”

  “That sounds bad, and I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

  “It’s not good, no.”

  “I’m sure our funds will cover it. But for now I need a small favor.”

  “Yes?”

  “I want you to take a colleague to our station.”

  “A passenger?” Troblum asked in alarm. If there was someone else on board, he would never be able to fly free. With a growing sense of dismay, he realized that was probably the whole idea. Had Marius detected something? He would have sworn nothing could get through his encryption, but then ultimately he was dealing with an ANA faction.

  “Problem? Your ship can accommodate more than one person, and it’s a relatively short flight. We’re still inside the Commonwealth, after all.”

  There was a definite implication in that. “Not a problem. I’ll need to do flight prep.”

  “That shouldn’t take more than an hour. Bon voyage.”

  There had been no polite inquiry as to whether he was ready; in fact, it was more like an order. Annoyance warred with a slight curiosity. What do they need me for so urgently?

  “Troblum?”

  “What?” Troblum twisted around as fast as his bulk would allow. There was a man standing in the office, a very tall man whose skeletal skull was frizzed by a stubble of ginger hair. He wore a simple gray suit that emphasized exceptionally long limbs. “Who the fuck are you?” Troblum’s biononics had cloaked him in a defensive force field instantly; now his weapons enrichment was active and targeting the intruder.

  “I’m Lucken. I believe you’re expecting me.”

  “You’re …”

  “Your passenger, yes. Is the ship ready?”

  “How did you get in?”

  Lucken’s face remained completely impassive. “Do you require assistance to prepare for flight?”

  “Ah, no.”

  “Then please begin.”

  Troblum adjusted the front of his old toga suit in angry reaction to the arrogant imposition. “The umbilicals are already attached. We’ll leave as soon as the tanks are full. Do you want to go to your cabin?”

  “Are you embarking now?”

  “No. I have important work here to complete.”

  “I will wait. I will accompany you on board.”

  “As you wish.” Troblum settl
ed back in his chair and reactivated the solido projectors just to show how indifferent he was.

  Lucken did not move. His eyes never left Troblum.

  It was going to be a long flight.

  The station was a real flight into nostalgia. It had been fifty years since Troblum had seen it last, and he never thought he would be back; in fact, he was rather surprised it was still intact. Mellanie’s Redemption took three days to fly from Arevalo to the unnamed red dwarf star. There were no planets, solid or gas, orbiting the weak speck of ruddy light, just a large disc of mushy hydrocarbon asteroids. There were fewer now than there had been when he first had come to work there. He smiled when he remembered that test sequence. It was the last time he had been genuinely drunk and had not cared what a fool he was making of himself.

  Mellanie’s Redemption dropped out of hyperspace ten astronomical units (AUs) away from the star and eight thousand kilometers directly above their destination. Troblum accelerated in at seven gees, heading straight for the center of the dark toroid that measured five kilometers in diameter. A squadron of defense cruisers shed their stealth effect and soared around the starship in fast tight turns. They were over a hundred meters long, like quicksilver droplets frozen in middistortion to produce bodies of warped ripples sprouting odd pseudopod crowns. Their flight was so elegant and smooth, they resembled a shoal of aquatic creatures cavorting with a newcomer. However, there was nothing playful about the quantum-level probes directed at Mellanie’s Redemption. Troblum held his breath as he waited to see if the sophisticated shielding around his forward hold would deflect the scan. It did, but then, he had helped design the cruisers—seventy years ago now. He found it interesting that nothing new had been produced in the intervening decades. Human technology was edging ever closer to its plateau. Emily Alm was probably right about her time in the navy; given their knowledge base, there was nothing new in the universe, just innovative variants on that which already existed.

  The cruisers escorted them into the station. Mellanie’s Redemption fell below the rim of the toroid and slid along the broad internal tube, which was almost as long as its diameter. Observing the structure through the starship’s modest sensor net, Troblum could see that vast sections had been reactivated. The titanium-black fuselage was covered in long slender spikes as if a sharp frost had settled across the whole station. The majority of spikes were translucent blue-white; in among them, seemingly at random, several of the smaller ones were glowing with a low crimson light, as if they had caged a few of the photons from the nearby sun.

  Troblum piloted Mellanie’s Redemption to the base of a red spike that was nearly seven hundred meters long. A hangar door was open and waiting for them. When it closed, he could not help thinking of the door to an antique jail cell slamming shut.

  “Thank you for flying Troblum Lines and have a pleasant day,” he said cheerily.

  Lucken opened the airlock and went outside. The man had not spoken a single word since they had embarked. Hadn’t slept, either, had just sat in the central cabin the whole time. He had vanished by the time Troblum activated a small case and pulled on his emerald cloak. Mellanie’s Redemption looked small and inadequate inside the giant shiny white cavity. White tubes had wormed out of the floor to plug into her umbilical sockets. There was no sign of the external door or indeed a way into the station. As Troblum walked along the curving floor, gravity shifted to accommodate him so that he was always vertical. The whole effect was quite disorienting on a visual level.

  A woman was waiting for him under the starship’s nose. She was his height, completely hairless, with large perfectly round eyes that dominated her flat face. Her neck was long, over twenty centimeters, but invisible behind a sheath of slim gold rings, as if it were some kind of segmented metallic limb. All of her skin had the surface shimmer of a toga suit tuned to steel-gray; Troblum assumed her skin had been biononically modified, the effect was so tight around her. A lot of Highers close to download chose to experiment with physiological modifications.

  “Greetings,” she said in a pleasant, almost girlish voice. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “Sadly, I can’t return the compliment,” he said, reading off the protocol behavior program showing in his exovision.

  “I’m Neskia, I run the station. My predecessor was most favorable in his assessment of your abilities. Our faction would like to thank you for returning.”

  As if I had a choice. “All very well, but why exactly am I here? Is the swarm malfunctioning?”

  “Not at all.” She gestured gracefully, her neck curving in a fluidly serpentine motion to keep her face aligned with him as she started walking. Troblum followed her along the curve, his case hovering just behind his head. Above them, a circular door irised open. The station’s internal nature certainly had changed in seventy years.

  “Oh.”

  “You sound disappointed,” she said, and hesitated by the door.

  Troblum was not sure if the circle had flipped out of the curve to stand upright or if the local gravity manipulation was even weirder than his ordinary senses told him. He refused to verify with a field scan. Disorientation attempts were really very childish. “Not disappointed. I assume I’m here to inspect and validate the swarm just in case the worst-case Pilgrimage scenario proves true. There have been a few recent advances which could be used to upgrade.”

  “The swarm has dispersed to its deployment point. It has been constantly upgraded. We don’t anticipate the Void’s expansion to pose any problem.”

  “Really? So that’s why you kept this station going.”

  “Among other things.” She stepped through the door and into a corridor that had an old simple gray-blue layout that Troblum recognized. They had not changed everything.

  “I’ve assigned you a suite in sector 7-B-5,” Neskia said. “You can have it modified to your own tastes; just tell the station smartcore what you want.”

  “Thank you. And the reason I’m here?”

  “We are building twelve ultradrive engines to power the Pilgrimage fleet. Your experience in the assembly techniques we are using is unmatched.”

  Troblum stopped abruptly, his case almost banging into the back of his head. “Ultradrive?”

  “Yes.”

  “You mean it’s real? I always assumed it was just a rumor.”

  “It isn’t. You’ll be working with a small team; fifty or so experts have been recruited. The Neumann cybernetics that built the swarm will handle the actual fabrication.”

  “Fascinating.” His bleak mood at being blackmailed and bullied actually began to lift. “I’ll need to see the theory behind the drive.”

  “Of course.” Her huge eyes blinked once. “We’ll brief you as soon as you’ve settled in.”

  “I’m settled right now.”

  Araminta waited in the flat until Shelly arrived to take full legal possession. She did not have to do it; Cressida’s firm was tackling the sale registration, which meant nothing had gone wrong. But supervising the handover in person added that little professional touch, and in business, reputation was a commodity that could not be bought.

  She watched from the balcony as Shelly’s capsule landed on the designated pad outside, followed by a larger cargo capsule that used the public pad. The flat seemed strangely unattractive now that Araminta had moved the dressing furniture out, all carefully chosen pieces that emphasized how spacious and contemporary the property was.

  “Is everything all right?” Shelly asked as Araminta opened the door.

  “Yes. I just wanted to check that you were happy.”

  “Oh, yes. I can’t wait to get in.” Shelly already was walking past her, smiling contentedly at the empty rooms. She was a tall pretty girl who had her own salon business in the district. Araminta was slightly jealous about that, mainly because Shelly was a year younger than she and obviously successful. But then, she’s never made the Laril mistake.

  Shelly caught sight of the big bouquet of flowers resting on t
he kitchen worktop. “Oh, thank you; that’s so sweet.”

  “My pleasure.” Araminta’s u-shadow transferred the flat’s activation codes over to Shelly. “Now, if there are any problems, please call me.” She had to flatten herself against the wall as she made her way downstairs. A regrav lifter was hauling a big scarlet and black sofa up to the flat. It was not quite what Araminta would have chosen, but … She shrugged and left the house.

  Her old carry capsule flew her across Colwyn City to the Bodant district, where it settled on a public parking pad. The morning was a dull one, with grubby ginger clouds darkening toward rain as the wind blew in from the sea. Araminta climbed out and smiled up at the six-story apartment block. It was a fairly standard layout, ribbed by white balconies that dripped with colorful vines and flowering creepers; the corners were black glass columns alive with purple and blue refraction stipples that swarmed up and down like rodent climbers. At night the effect was sharp and conspicuous, but under a dank daylight sky it lacked any kind of verve. There was a gold crystal dome on the roof, sheltering a communal pool and spa gym. A wide swath of elegantly maintained gardens along the front sat on top of the private underground garage.

  Cressida’s sleek purple capsule slipped down out of the low clouds to land beside Araminta. “Well, darling, what a coup.” The lawyer was wrapped in a furry black and white coat that snuggled cozily around her with every move. She glanced up at the front of the building, eyes narrowing as she saw three balconies piled high with junked fittings. “I have the access codes and the owner certificates. So let’s go up, shall we?”

  Araminta had bought the entire fourth floor, with all five apartments. The whole apartment block was undergoing redevelopment, presenting an opportunity she could not resist when Ikor, one of the original developers, had pulled out. Cressida walked into the first apartment and rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you’ve done this.”

  “Why not? It’s a perfect opportunity for me.” Araminta grinned at her cousin’s dismay and walked over to the balcony doors. The glass curtained wide for her, and she stepped out. There was a faint sound of buzzing and drilling as the other developers prepared their floors for occupancy. “It’s ninety years old; it needs a makeover. And look at the view.”