“Yes.” Somehow Edeard had expected to find some trace of Akeem. But now, actually standing beside the listing stables and unsafe hall, he knew he never would. There were bones aplenty, even whole skeletons, but it would take days of careful examination to try to identify any of them. And ultimately, for what purpose? Who am I trying to appease and satisfy here? Would the souls of the dead villagers care that he was here? Would Akeem want him grubbing through the dirt to find some pieces of his long-dead body? I bury all of them or I bury none.
Of course, there was one other thing Edeard could do. His recollection of that night was perfect: himself and the other apprentices meeting up in the cave for an evening of fun and kestric. Even as he thought it, he looked up at the cliff; seeing the small dark cleft that they had wriggled through to find the cavern that offered privacy from their masters.
That simple recollection triggered a whole wave of memory. He could see the village as it had been that last fine summer. People striding along the streets, talking and laughing. Market stalls being set up, farmers bringing their produce in on big wagons. Apprentices hurrying about their duties. Village elders in their finer clothes. Children scampering about, chasing one another with shrieks of laughter.
I can do it. I can go back to that moment. I can defeat the bandits that night. I can give them all a life again.
He shook his head as if to clear it. Tears began to roll down his cheeks. This was far worse than any temptation Ranalee had ever offered.
I would have to go to Makkathran, this time with Akeem’s letter of sponsorship. I would be an apprentice at the Blue Tower. But Owain would still be there, and Buate and Tannarl and Mistress Florrel and Bise. I would have to dispose of them once more.
“I can’t,” he whispered. “I can’t do that again.”
“Edeard?” Dinlay asked gently. His hand squeezed Edeard’s shoulder.
Edeard wiped the tears away, banishing forever the sight of the village as it had been. Standing in the cracked doorway arch to the Eggshaper Guild hall, Akeem regarded Edeard with sad eyes.
Edeard knew that look so well, a rebuke that had been directed at him a thousand times as an apprentice. Don’t let me down.
“I won’t,” he promised.
Dinlay frowned. “Won’t what?”
Edeard breathed in deeply, calming his rampaging emotions. He stared at the broken doorway. Akeem wasn’t there. A smile touched his lips. “Fail them,” he told Dinlay. “I won’t fail the people who died so I might ultimately wind up where I am today, where we all are. It doesn’t always apply, you know.”
“What doesn’t?”
“Sometimes to do what’s right you have to do what’s wrong.”
“I always thought that was stupid. I bet Rah never actually said it.”
Edeard laughed out loud and took a last look around the old nine-sided courtyard. He put his arm around his friend’s shoulders. “You’re probably right. Come on, let’s go home. Home to Makkathran.”
“About time. I know you had to come here, but I’m not sure it’s healthy. We all regard the past too highly. We should cut ourselves free of it. You can only ever look forward to the future.”
Edeard pulled him closer. “You’re really quite a philosopher, aren’t you?”
“Why do you say that with so much surprise?”
“That was not surprise; that was respect.”
“Hmm.”
“Anyhow,” Edeard teased, “Saria will be waiting for you. Waiting eagerly.”
“Oh, dear Lady. I don’t want to speak ill of the dead, but what in Honious did Boyd ever see in her?”
“What? No! She’s a lovely girl.”
“She is a nightmare.”
“Kristabel thinks highly of her.”
“Yes. But Kristabel thinks highly of you, too.”
“Ouch! That hurt. Okay, then, perhaps Kanseen could steer someone more to your liking—”
“No! And certainly not Kanseen. Do you know what her definition of ‘nice girls’ is, let alone ‘suitable’ ones? This is what you’ve all been doing since the four of you got married. It’s embarrassing. Besides, I like being single.”
“Married life is wonderful.”
“Lady! Just stop it, will you.”
Edeard walked out of his former guild courtyard grinning contentedly.
The PanCephei Line starship had already dropped out of hyperspace when the emergency began. External sensors were showing the passengers an image of the H-congruous world two thousand kilometers below. White clouds tumbled high above dark blue oceans, sending out long streamers in forays across the surprisingly brown land. Flight information was available to access, designating their vector as a purple line down through the atmosphere to Garamond’s capital, the smooth resolution to another flawless everyday flight across three hundred light-years.
None of that registered with the increasingly frantic Delivery Man. The Conservative Faction’s intelligence division had automatically sent out a secure classified warning to all operatives as soon as the inversion core broke free of ANA’s edifice. He’d observed it with growing dismay as it eluded the navy ships. Then the deterrence fleet arrived (though its nature wasn’t revealed on any navy scans of the Sol system), and right after that the Swarm materialized. Earth’s defense agency declared a grade-one alert.
The Delivery Man called his wife, and to hell with protocol. For whatever reason, her u-shadow didn’t accept his first request for a link. When he analyzed the basic data, he realized she was in the Dulwich Park school. His hand thumped the nicely cushioned armrest of his seat in the first-class cubicle in frustration.
Lizzie teleported back home, and her u-shadow accepted the link. He managed a few words of reassurance before his exovision symbols told him the unisphere was changing the routing on the link, which was weird. His secure priority connection with the Conservative Faction intelligence division dropped out. What the fuck? “Then I’ll be with you the instant I reach an Earth station,” he told her, trying to appear positive.
“Something’s wrong,” Lizzie said.
It was impossible, but he could feel her distress as though they were using the gaiafield. “Lizzie, just hang on! I will be there, I promise you. Tell the girls Daddy is going to be home any minute.”
His u-shadow reported the link with Lizzie had failed, as had the one to the Conservative Faction. “No,” he gasped out loud. His exovision showed that every route to Earth had been severed. No data were getting in or out of the Sol system; it was completely cut off from the unisphere. “What the hell is happening?” he asked his u-shadow.
“Unknown,” it replied. “All wormholes to Sol have physically closed. The navy and Commonwealth government retain several secure emergency TD links to Sol, but none are working.”
“Did they nova it?” he asked fearfully.
“Unknown but unlikely. Whatever happened, happened very quickly. A nova shock wave would take several minutes to reach Earth.”
“The planet itself, then—could they have destroyed it, dropped a quantumbuster through the defenses or something? Maybe an M-sink?”
“Possibly. But for every communication system in the solar system to be affected simultaneously, the destruction would have to be enormous and swift. That suggests something which acts at hyperluminal velocity.”
“Did they kill Earth?” he yelled out.
“Unknown.”
“Oh, sweet Ozzie.” His whole body was shuddering as shock gripped him. Biononics worked to calm the impulses. “Find out,” he instructed his u-shadow. “Use every source you can access.”
“Understood.”
Judging by the raised voices muffled by the cubicle door, news of Earth’s disappearance was spreading fast. The Delivery Man couldn’t think what to do. It was the Conservative Faction that always provided him with the best data; now they were gone. Without them, he was no better than anyone else. He had no special ability, no influence, no one to call …
Mar
ius. That was his first thought: I could ask Marius. That would be pitifully weak. But this is Lizzie and the kids. This isn’t the faction. His rival’s communication icon hung in his exovision. He couldn’t resist.
The response took several seconds. His u-shadow reported several semisentients tracking and confirming his location.
“Yes?” Marius replied smoothly. There was no attempt to establish any kind of routing security on the link. He was connected to Fanallisto’s cybersphere.
“What have you done?” the Delivery Man asked. Some small part of him was intrigued: What’s Marius doing on the planet I just left?
“I have done nothing. But I am curious why you’re on Gralmond.”
“What do you fucking think I’m doing here, you little shit! I’m going home. I was going home. What have you done to my family? What’s happened to Earth?”
“Ah. Don’t worry. They are perfectly safe.”
“Safe!”
“Yes. Your navy will presumably release the details in a while, but we have simply imprisoned Sol inside a very powerful force field, just like the Dyson Pair.”
“You did what?”
“We can no longer accept interference from ANA, nor your own faction. We will go into the Void. You will not stop us. You cannot. Not now.”
“I will catch you. I will rip you to fucking pieces.”
“You disappoint me. I told you the game was over. When will you animals learn? We have won. Elevation is inevitable.”
“Not while I’m alive, it isn’t.”
“Are you threatening me? I extend you a simple courtesy, and this emotional diarrhea is how you respond? You are an agent of the Conservative Faction, after all; perhaps I shouldn’t take any chances. I will visit Gralmond and eradicate that world with you and everyone else on it.”
“No!”
“Are you a threat or are you a simple broken animal has-been?”
“This won’t work. You can’t get into the Void. Araminta will never take you there.”
“Once we secure her, she will have no choice. You know this.”
In the privacy of the first-class cubicle, the Delivery Man punched the wall twice, his arm’s biononic reinforcement producing a fist-sized dent in the carbotanium paneling. He’d never felt so helpless. So useless. Nor had he felt so much anger, most of it directed at himself for not being with his family at this time. The one time they truly should have been together. “What about after?” he asked.
“After?”
“If the inversion core does make it into the Void, will you release Sol?”
“I expect so. It is an irrelevance, then, after all.”
“If you don’t, I will find you, whatever form you take. And that is a threat.”
The link ended. “Shit.” He hit the wall again, right in the center of the dint. His storage lacunae contained several Conservative Faction emergency procedures; not one of them anticipated anything as remotely outrageous as this. The Delivery Man let out a nervous little laugh as he contemplated the enormity of the Accelerators’ actions. ANA and the deterrence fleet were the only possible entities that could have ended Living Dream’s Pilgrimage. Apart from the warrior Raiel. Even as he thought it, he knew he couldn’t rely on the aliens guarding the Gulf. The Accelerator Faction had access to Dark Fortress technology now. That might just allow them to get past the warrior Raiel.
He employed his biononics to adjust his wilder physiological parameters, calming his thoughts. Secondary routines came on line, expanding his mentality, allowing him to examine the situation properly. It was the only way to be of any genuine help to Lizzie and the kids.
If the deterrence fleet couldn’t break out of the force field, it was extremely unlikely that the navy could break in. That left the Accelerator Faction agents and scientists who’d built the Swarm or—long shot—the Raiel at High Angel. The navy and the President would no doubt be asking the High Angel as a matter of urgency, which left him with the prospect of tracking down an Accelerator agent who might know how to switch the damn thing off. And they would be extremely reluctant to tell him.
The starship settled on its pad. Passengers hurried off, leaking uncertainty out of their gaiamotes, contributing to the vast pall of unease that was contaminating the entire gaiafield. Some services at the spaceport had ground to a halt as the staff stopped everything to access the unisphere news.
A private starship had already arrived at the Sol force field and was relaying images of the almighty prison wall erected across space. Commentators were dredging up the historical records of the Second Chance’s first contact with the Dyson Alpha barrier and drawing unlikely parallels.
The Delivery Man stood in the airy glass and wood arrival hall, part of a bewildered crowd of travelers staring at the red solidos hanging above the wormhole terminus to Tampico. It was as if the shining symbols somehow made the situation a whole lot more real than the frantic unisphere broadcasts. They warned that the old Big15 world no longer had a connection to Earth. To add to the irony, the preset symbols advised making alternative journey arrangements.
“Quite right,” the Delivery Man muttered to himself. First off, he had to acquire some serious hardware and firepower if he was going to start snatching Accelerator agents. It was only logical. That brought him up against his choices. The only Accelerator agent he knew who would definitely have the kind of information he needed was Marius. Moreover, Marius was now back on Fanallisto, where there was a cache of field support equipment that the Delivery Man had the codes for. “Holy crap,” he hissed at the enormity of the decision.
His u-shadow accessed the spaceport’s network to grab flight times of starships going back to Fanallisto. Already, operators were starting to cancel flights as a precaution.
That was when his u-shadow reported that the Conservative Faction was opening a secure link. “What?” The people nearby gave him curious looks; his jolt of surprise had spilled out into the gaiafield. But there was no doubting the call’s authenticity; every certificate and code key was correct. He collected himself and smiled blankly as he accepted the call. “Have you broken out through the force field?” he asked.
“Not exactly. This is a … portion of what you know as the Conservative Faction; think of me as the executive.”
“All right. So how can you communicate through the force field?”
“I can’t. I’m outside it.”
“But the faction is part of ANA.”
“Could we just move past the definitions stage, please? Take it as read; this is the Conservative Faction speaking.”
“Is there any way to get through the barrier? I have to talk to my family.”
“Forget it. The bastards were smart mapping out Dark Fortress technology. ANA and Earth are going to be sitting on the sidelines for the duration. It’s down to us now.”
The Delivery Man frowned. “Bastards,” he mouthed. This wasn’t the way the Conservative Faction spoke. Secondary routines dug up the “sidelines” crack; it was an old sporting reference. Very old. “Who are you?” he asked.
“Like I said: the executive. What? You think we’re all equal in ANA?”
“Well … yes. Of course.”
“Nice theory. Okay, then, the executive is all nice and homogeneous and glowing in love from everyone else involved in the faction. Happy now?”
“But you can’t be in ANA.”
“No. I’m taking a short sabbatical. Lucky for us. Now, are you with me? Are you going to help stop Marius and Ilanthe?”
“Just so you understand my position, I’m going to require proof of what you are before I do anything.”
“Sonofabitch Highers. You’re all fucking bureaucrats at heart, aren’t you?”
“What the hell are you?”
“I’ll give you proof I’m what I claim, but you’ve got to come and collect it.”
“Listen, my priority—actually my only concern—is taking down that barrier. Nothing else is relevant.”
“Brilli
ant. And how do you propose to do that?”
“Somewhere in the Commonwealth there will be an Accelerator with the knowledge. Once I track them down, I will extract the information. I am prepared to use extreme methods.”
“I think I misjudged you. That’s not a bad idea. I’m almost tempted.”
“What do you mean ‘misjudged’?”
“Face it, son, you don’t exactly have a double-O prefix, do you? You just deliver things for us, with a bit of low-level covert crap thrown in to bolster your ego.”
The Delivery Man’s u-shadow couldn’t find a reference to double-O, at least not one that made any sense. “I’ve gone up against Marius before,” he said, bridling.
“You had a cup of hot chocolate with him before. Come on, let’s get real here.”
“Well, what’s your proposal?”
“First off, get back to Purlap spaceport and pick up the starship you dumped there. Trust me, the person it was intended for isn’t going to be using it now. And we’re going to need some decent hardware to pull this off.”
“Pull what off?” But he was obscurely heartened by the “executive” knowing about the starship. It meant that the thing was genuine or that the entire Conservative Faction was a broken joke; if it was the latter, the Accelerators wouldn’t be toying with him like this. That wasn’t how they worked.
“One stage at a time. Go get the starship.”
The Delivery Man reviewed the spaceport’s network again. “The commercial lines are shutting down all their scheduled flights. And not just here by the look of it.” His u-shadow was tracking data from across the Commonwealth. Nobody wanted to be flying when the Accelerators were out there unchecked by the navy.
“Boo hoo,” said the Conservative executive. “You just claimed you were prepared to use any method necessary.”
“To get me back with my family.”
“This will, like nothing else. Now think: Where are you?”
“I don’t understand.”
“You’re in the middle of a spaceport with three hundred and seventeen starships currently on the ground around you, according to its official registry. Pick a good one, take it over, and get your ass back to Purlap. You’re a secret agent, remember? Earn your double-O status.”
The Void Trilogy 3-Book Bundle Page 157