The Void Trilogy 3-Book Bundle

by Peter F. Hamilton

  Inside the green prisons the team members had stopped moving, making it easier to see them. He watched Valean as her legs gave way. A fast smear of green light followed her to the ground. For a second her body remained there on hands and knees before another flash of light chased her to a prone position. The green glow faded to an almost invisible coating. Laril watched her odd skin darken; then its shimmer died to reveal a leatherlike hide. It began to constrict even further around her skeleton. Cracks split open, and thick juices oozed out, solidifying into stain puddles on the floorboards.

  “Oh, Ozzie!” Laril covered his mouth as he started to gag and looked away quickly. Each member of the Accelerator team had suffered the same fate. “What happened?”

  “Age,” Paul said. “Gets us all in the end—unless you’re careful, of course.” He climbed down off the chair and walked over to Valean’s desiccated corpse. The green hue finally vanished, replaced by a glimmering force field. I accelerated her inside an exotic effect zone, like a miniature wormhole. Normally it’s used to suspend temporal flow, but the opposite effect is just as easy to engineer; it simply requires a larger energy input. Sort of like the Void, really.”

  Laril almost didn’t want to ask. He couldn’t help thinking what it must have been like for Valean and her agents, imprisoned inside a tiny envelope of exotic force, enduring utter solitude for days on end as the outside world stood still. “How long?”

  “About two years. She had very powerful biononics, but even they couldn’t sustain her indefinitely. Ordinarily the biononic organelles feed off cellular protein and all the other gunk floating around inside the membrane, which is constantly resupplied by the body. But in the temporal field she wasn’t getting any fresh nutrients. Her biononics ran out of cellular molecules eventually. In the end they were like a supercancer eating her from the inside, enhancing the starvation and dehydration.”

  Laril shuddered. “But her force field is still working.”

  “No, my defense systems are generating that. No telling what booby traps she programmed into herself at the end. Just because she’s dead doesn’t mean she’s harmless.”

  Once again the T-sphere established itself; the corpses were teleported out of the lounge. Laril didn’t want to know where they’d gone. “What now?” he asked.

  Paul gave him a brisk smile. “You’re my house guest until Araminta calls you—or doesn’t—and this is all over.”

  “Oh.”

  “Cheer up. ‘Here’ is actually quite dimensionally interesting. After all, you don’t really think I’ve spent the last thousand years cooped up in the same bungalow, do you?”

  “Ah … no. Put like that, I suppose not.”

  “Jolly good. So have you had breakfast yet?”

  As soon as Paul Cramley transferred her call, Paula’s cabin portal projected a quaint image of tangerine and turquoise sine waves undulating backward into a vanishing point. “I might have known you’d be taking an interest,” she said.

  “I always take an interest in human affairs,” the SI said.

  “First question: Can you get through the Sol barrier?”

  “Sorry, no. If ANA can’t, what hope does an antiquity like me have?”

  “Are you trying to engage my sympathy?”

  “You have some?”

  “That was uncalled for. But as it happens, I do. For my own species.”

  “Paula, are you cross with me?”

  “I shared ANA’s opinion. Your interference in our affairs was unacceptable.”

  “I hardly ever interfered,” the SI protested.

  “We unmasked eighteen thousand of your agents. Your network was larger than the Starflyer’s.”

  “I’m hurt by that comparison.”

  “Oh, shut up,” Paula snapped. “Why did you order Paul to save Laril?”

  “I didn’t order Paul to do anything. Nobody orders Paul around these days. You know he’s well on his way to becoming postphysical?”

  “Well, I didn’t think he was fully human anymore.”

  “That old body you saw with Laril is only a tiny aspect of him now. If you want to worry about nonhuman interference, you should keep a closer eye on him and the others like him.”

  “There are others?”

  “Not many,” the SI admitted. “You and Kazimir are the oddities. Everyone else of your vintage either downloaded or moved off in their own direction like Paul.”

  “So you and he are colleagues? Equals?”

  “That’s a very humancentric viewpoint: rate everyone according to their strength.”

  “More an Ocisen one, I feel; perhaps we can include the Prime, too.”

  The undulating sine waves quickened. “Okay, all right. Paul and I have a special relationship. You know, he actually wrote part of the original me. Back in the day he was a CST corporate drone in their advanced software department working on artificial intelligence development.”

  “Very cozy. So how big an interest have you been taking in the Pilgrimage?”

  “Big. That idiot Ethan really could trigger the end of the galaxy. I’d have to move.”

  “How terrible.”

  “Have you ever tried moving a planet?”

  Paula gave the sine waves a shrewd stare. “No, but I know a man who probably can. How about you?”

  “Yes,” the SI said. “Troblum is actually trying to get in touch with you.”

  “Sholapur wasn’t exactly invisible. Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “No, I mean he was really trying. He knew about the Swarm; he was going to make a deal.”

  “Irrelevant now.”

  “Paula, I’ve been in touch with him since Sholapur.”

  “Where is he?”

  “On his starship somewhere. Last time we spoke, he was still in range of the unisphere; I have no idea of the location. His smartcore is well protected, I urged him to get in touch with you.”

  “Why?”

  “He helped build the Swarm. He might be able to get through the barrier.”

  “Did he say that?”

  “He was reluctant to help. He claimed there is a code which can switch it off.”

  “Even if there is, it’ll be Ilanthe who holds it,” Paula said. “Damnit, do you think he will contact me?”

  “Troblum is a very paranoid man. A condition exacerbated by Sholapur. He is afraid of breaking cover. His true fear is that the Cat will find him. However, he was considering getting in touch with Oscar Monroe.”

  “Oscar? Why?”

  “I suspect he regards Oscar as the last trustworthy man in the galaxy.”

  “I suppose that’s true. I’ll warn Oscar to look out for him.”

  “Good.” The SI paused. “What are your intentions, Paula?”

  “I’m not quite as liberal as ANA. I believe the Pilgrimage and Ilanthe must be stopped from entering the Void. That means getting hold of Araminta.”

  “Difficult. She’s walking the Silfen paths.”

  “They won’t grant her sanctuary. Somewhere, sometime she will have to come out.”

  “You know the safest place she could choose? Earth. How would that be for irony? If Ilanthe wanted her, the barrier would have to be switched off.”

  Paula gave the knot of sine waves an approving look. She had known the Silfen paths reached through the Dyson Alpha barrier; Ozzie himself had told her. The idiot had actually visited Morning-LightMountain’s world after the Starflyer War was over. She supposed it was inevitable that the SI would know, as it had a long history with Ozzie. “Clever,” she said, “I wonder if we could get a message to her. Are you in contact with the Silfen Motherholme?”

  “No. It doesn’t associate with the likes of me. I’m just a mechanical-based intelligence. I don’t have a living soul.”

  “So we’d need a Silfen Friend.”

  The SI’s projected knot of wiggling lines brightened slightly. “There aren’t many, and they tend to be elusive.”

  “Cressida; she’s related to Aram
inta. They both have Mellanie as their ancestor.”

  “That connection is tenuous even for desperate times.”

  “Yes. And Cressida has dropped from sight. But I’d forgotten Silfen paths can reach through this kind of barrier. The one on Earth is supposed to start outside Oxford somewhere. I wonder if ANA can use it to get some kind of message out.”

  “If it can, it will.”

  “Yeah, and in the meantime … Do you have any weapons stashed away that can tackle the inversion core?”

  “I don’t have any weapons,” the SI said in a stiff tone. “Stashed or otherwise.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Of course you do. You forget I am information. I operate within what could be classed a physical network, but that does not govern me.”

  “There are a lot of human personalities downloaded into you. That must influence your standpoint.”

  “There are a lot of human memories stored inside me,” the SI said. “There’s a difference.”

  “Okay, so do you at least know what the inversion core is?”

  “I managed to access sensors in the Sol system for a very short period between it emerging and the barrier going up. ANA still regards such actions as extreme trespass. I can’t tell you much other than it has an exotic nature. The quantum structure was effectively unreadable, it was so unusual.”

  “So we don’t know what would kill it?”

  “The deterrence fleet or the warrior Raiel might be able to. I can’t conceive anything else working. But Paula, that ship it left in was extremely powerful and fast.”

  “I know. If Araminta calls Laril—”

  “Paul and I will include you in the conversation,” the SI assured her.

  “Thank you. And let me have a code for you, please.”

  “As you wish.”

  Paula watched the sine waves shrink to nothing as a new communication icon appeared in her exovision. A quick check with the smartcore showed the SI hadn’t attempted to infiltrate any of the ship’s systems. She hadn’t expected it to, but …

  Her u-shadow opened a secure link to the High Angel.

  “Paula,” said Qatux. “Our situation is not improving.”

  “I understand the President has asked you to attempt to get through the Sol barrier.”

  “He did. I don’t believe it is possible; however, I shall oblige his request. To do nothing for you at this point would be morally irresponsible. We will fly to Sol shortly.”

  “The Raiel taking part in galactic events again? I thought that went completely against your ethos.”

  “This is a very specific event, the one we have dreaded for eons. Our involvement is mandatory.”

  “I believe the Sol barrier is based on the force field around the Dyson Pair. The Accelerators have been studying the Dark Fortress for a long time.”

  “We suspected that was so. If true, the High Angel will be unable to breach the barrier.”

  “What about a warrior Raiel ship?”

  “I don’t believe it would fare any better, though there may have been new developments I am unaware of. The generator you call the Dark Fortress represents the pinnacle of our race’s ingenuity.”

  Paula experienced a strange little frisson of relief at the statement. A very old puzzle finally solved. “Did the Raiel build the Dark Fortress? We always thought they were the same as the DF spheres at Centurion Station.”

  “Yes. It is a unit from our Galactic Core garrison. They have several functions; the force field is only one.”

  “You told us the Anomine imprisoned the Dyson Pair.”

  “They did. We loaned them the units. We produced legions of them after our invasion of the Void failed. As your species correctly postulated, they are the galaxy’s final line of defense against a catastrophic expansion phase.”

  “So the Raiel can stop an expansion phase?”

  “That is something we will not know until the moment arises. The scheme was the best we could produce, but it remains untested.”

  “Then it really is vital that Araminta doesn’t lead the Pilgrimage into the Void?”

  “Yes.”

  “I will do everything I can; you know that.”

  “I know, Paula.”

  “I may need help.”

  “Whatever I can provide, you have only to ask.”

  Eventually the forest gave way to a crumpled swath of grassy land that stretched away for miles to a shoreline guarded by thick dunes. The rich blue ocean beyond sparkled as the sunlight skipped across its gentle waves. Araminta smiled mournfully at the sight, knowing she’d never be able to run across the beach and dive into those splendid clear waters. The big quadruped beast she was riding snorted and shook its huge head, as if sharing her resentment.

  “Don’t worry; the whole beauties-of-nature thing gets tedious after a while,” Bradley Johansson said. He was riding on a similar beast to one side of her while Clouddancer plodded along behind.

  “After how long?” Araminta queried.

  “Millennia,” Clouddancer growled out. “Nature produces so much that is worthy of admiration. Its glory never ends.”

  Bradley Johansson pursed his round mouth and produced a shrill trumpeting sound. After a day and a half riding with the pair since they’d left the festival by the loch, Araminta had concluded this was his chuckle.

  “Great,” she muttered. The fresh breeze from the ocean was invigorating, countering her falling mood. They were approaching a narrow fold in the land, one filled with small trees and dense scrub bushes. There was a pool at the head of the slope, producing a tiny brook that trickled away down through the trees. She reined in her mount just short of the water and swung her leg over the saddle so she could slide down its thick flank. It waited patiently as she performed her inelegant dismount. Bradley Johansson came over to help unstrap her backpack. She never actually saw him climb down, though she was sure his wings weren’t big enough to work in a standard gravity field.

  “How do you feel?” he asked sympathetically.

  “Nervous as hell.”

  “Your spirit will prevail,” Clouddancer proclaimed. He was still sitting on his mount, tail curled up at one side, wings rustling in mild agitation. His head was held high as he looked toward the coast. If he’d been a human, Araminta would have said he was hunting a scent in the wind.

  “I have to,” she said, and meant it.

  “I am proud of you, friend’s daughter,” Bradley Johansson said. “You encompass all that is good and strong in our species. You remind me why I gave everything I had to save us.”

  Araminta was suddenly very busy with the clip around her waist. “I’ll do my best, I promise. I won’t let you down.”

  “I know.”

  When she looked up, Bradley Johansson was holding a small pendant on a silver chain. The jewel was encased in a fine silver mesh. A pretty blue light was glimmering inside like captured starlight. He placed it around her neck. “I name you that which you already are, Araminta. Friend of Silfen.”

  “Thank you,” she said. Ridiculously, her eyes were watering. She smiled over at Clouddancer, who bowed so solemnly toward her, it left her feeling hopelessly inadequate. “Do you have any suggestions for your new Friend?” she asked the pair of them, hating how weak she sounded. “My ex-husband said he’d help me, but he’s not quite the most reliable of people even if his heart is in the right place.”

  “Laril isn’t independent anymore,” Bradley Johansson told her. “He can still offer advice that would be helpful, but it is not his own.”

  “Oh. Right.” How do you know this? That was a stupid question; she was always allowing herself to be misled by the apparent carefree child like lifestyle the Silfen followed. There is more to them than this, a lot more. “So it’s Oscar, then? Will he be able to help me with the machine-thing you warned me about?”

  Clouddancer and Bradley Johansson exchanged a look. “Probably not,” Clouddancer said. “Nobody really understands what it
is.”

  “Somebody must know or be able to work it out,” she said.

  “That is for you to find, Friend Araminta.”

  “Oh, come on! The whole galaxy is at stake here, including your own existence. Just for once cut the mystic crap and give me some practical help.”

  Bradley Johansson made his shrill chuckling noise again. “There is someone you could ask, someone who may be smart enough to work things out for you. He was a phenomenal physicist once. And he was named a Silfen Friend.”

  “Yeah, and look what he did with that most honorable of gifts,” Clouddancer growled.

  “Of course he did,” Bradley Johansson said, sounding amused. “That is what makes him who he is. That is why he is our Friend.”

  “Who?” Araminta demanded.

  “Ozzie,” Clouddancer sighed.

  “Ozzie? Really? I thought … Is he still alive?”

  “Very much so,” Bradley Johansson said.

  “Well, where the hell is he?”

  “Outside the Commonwealth. Oscar can get you there.” He paused, letting out a sorrowful whistle. “Probably. Remember, Friend Araminta, you must walk with caution from now on.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be careful. That part you can really depend on.”

  “Come back to us afterward,” Clouddancer said.

  “Of course I will.” There was a tiny ripple of doubt in her thoughts that she swiftly quashed. This is all so massive. Visiting Ozzie! For … Ozzie’s sake.

  Bradley Johansson took her hand, and they walked toward the top of the little wooded ravine. Araminta blew out a long breath and strode forward confidently. Somewhere up ahead of her, winding through the trees and thick bushes, she could sense the path to Francola Wood stirring at her approach.

  “A last word for you, if I may,” Bradley Johansson said. “Anger is a fine heat, one which you are now experiencing. Anger from being put in this position through no real fault of your own, anger at the stupidity of Living Dream. This anger behind your determination will power you at the start, allowing you to be the force you want to be. Then there will come a moment when you look around and see all you have carried before you. That is the most dangerous time, the time when you can lose faith in yourself and falter. That cannot happen, Friend Araminta. Keep your anger, fuel it, let it carry you forward. See this through to the final bitter end no matter what. That is the only way to take others with you: to be a force of nature, the proverbial unstoppable force. You can do this. You have so much in you.”