The Void Trilogy 3-Book Bundle

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The Void Trilogy 3-Book Bundle Page 197

by Peter F. Hamilton


  “I don’t know,” he said unsteadily. The conversation between Oscar and Paula that the SI had intercepted had left him badly shaken. Both Dreamers and Ozzie coming together to solve the problem was cause for some tentative hope. “I can’t make a difference.”

  “You know more about the Sol barrier than any other individual. They might need that.”

  “I don’t know.” It was too big, too much, and getting horribly personal again. But it was a huge unexpected relief to solve the Araminta puzzle. She hadn’t betrayed anyone; she was doing what she could. And … Araminta, Inigo, Oscar, and Ozzie together. That’s going to be history.

  Catriona came over and sat on his lap. She was wearing a thin lacy top and tight jeans. The feel of her resting there, human scent and musky perfume, her perfect form centimeters from his eyes. It was comforting somehow.

  “We should go,” she told him softly.

  “Yes.” Even that made him feel good.

  Sensors showed Paula the Elvin’s Payback flashing into hyperspace and activating its stealth. She could track it of course, though few other ships in the galaxy could.

  After a minute, the ship hanging in suspension a hundred thousand kilometers above Viotia also pushed back fully into hyperspace and followed Oscar at ultradrive speed. Its stealth wasn’t as good as that of the ANA ship, but its drive seemed more than capable, and the real giveaway was the mass, which was identical to that of the Mellanie’s Redemption, which Paula had last seen departing Sholapur at their hyperdrive speed.

  “And then there was one,” Paula muttered.

  The remaining stealthed ship started to move. Its drive signature was one the Alexis Denken was also familiar with from Sholapur, as was the much superior stealth effect. Paula ordered the smartcore to follow the other three starships to the Spike, then opened a secure link to the High Angel.

  “Hello, Paula,” Qatux said.

  “So you can’t break through the Sol barrier?”

  “No. Our trip here was largely symbolic, a statement of Raiel support for the rest of the Commonwealth.”

  “I don’t expect empty political gestures from you.”

  “If there is any way we can influence the Living Dream from their Pilgrimage, we are obliged to enact it.”

  “They’ve just launched.”

  “I know. Paula, if you would like to come with us when this galaxy falls, I will be happy to take you.”

  “I know the purpose of the High Angel is supposed to be to save life from this galaxy, but something is happening, Qatux, something my instinct tells me is crucial. So I’m going to need a favor. A very big favor.”

  The lake measured over ten kilometers across, its shoreline made up of attractive sweeping coves. Two-thirds of the surrounding land was smothered by a thick wild forest, with vegetation scrambling down over the stones that lined the rippling water. The remaining third was an alien city whose globes and spikes dominated the skyline. Deserted for millennia, its iron structures were a similar construction to those of Octoron’s little human township. But this metropolis was put together on a much grander scale, perhaps a little too imposing. Humans living in the chamber had never attempted to settle there.

  Ozzie’s old capsule skimmed above the thin towers and dropped down toward the huge semicircular harbor bay on the other side. There were several small islands dotted across the water. They were heading for the largest, which had a wide sandy beach guarded by rocky prominences on either side. Behind the beach itself the land was a cluster of long dunes before the ground started to slope up into the island’s central mountain. A simple whitewashed stone house stood alone, poised between the dunes and the forested slope. It was surrounded on three sides by a veranda that had a leafy canopy of thick vines draped over an ancient, sagging wooden frame. Tall sash windows had wooden shutters on the outside, giving the place the appearance of a farmhouse in rural Provence.

  The capsule touched down in front of the solitary building. Aaron scanned it briefly. Another human was lurking behind the wide slatted doors that opened from the lounge to the veranda decking. She had biononics, but they weren’t weapons-configured. There were some additional enrichments that he didn’t recognize, but their low power usage argued against their posing any kind of threat. The house itself had a few technological items: a culinary unit, a medical capsule, two very sophisticated replicators, a fleet of old-fashioned maidbots, and five smartcores larger than he’d encountered before. In short, the perfect retreat for someone like Ozzie.

  “Okay, we can go out,” Aaron said.

  Ozzie gave him a long look. “You sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, okay, but be careful of the mutant squids in the lake.”

  “I appreciate that this intrusion is unwelcome; we’ll be gone as soon as we can.” Though Aaron couldn’t be sure of that. Ideas were starting to form in the back of his mind in anticipation of Inigo regaining consciousness. He gave the sleeping messiah a quick look. It wouldn’t be long before he was awake.

  “And remember never to leave the house at night,” Ozzie said with an innocent tone that nonetheless mocked.

  “Why?”

  “Vampires.”

  Aaron bit back on his response. He wasn’t quite sure how much of Ozzie’s attitude was driven by irritation at having his hermit life violated. If it was genuine, things might get unpleasant. Aaron hoped not.

  Ozzie walked out of the capsule, leaving Aaron to deal with the two unconscious people sprawled on the curving leather couch at the back of the passenger section. “Greatly done,” he muttered, and picked Inigo up, fumbling him into a traditional fireman’s lift. For a long moment he was tempted to shoot another sedative (or ten) into Corrie-Lyn, but Inigo wouldn’t be happy about that. Having two bolshie living legends with overblown egos pissed with him would be a definite disadvantage.

  Aaron carried Inigo over the dunes and up the gray wooden steps to the veranda. He dumped the inert body onto a sunlounger and went back for Corrie-Lyn.

  Ozzie was nowhere to be seen by the time he got back to the veranda. A quick low-level field scan showed him upstairs in the house’s biggest bedroom with the woman. Aaron abruptly canceled the scan, trying to quash his feeling of dismay at Ozzie’s attitude and behavior. He hadn’t expected quite this much irrational stubbornness.

  Inigo groaned and stirred. His biononics assisted a quick rise to full awareness. He sat up and looked around the shaded veranda, then took a moment to stare at the vista of the ancient alien city facing him across the bay.

  “We made it, then?”

  “We made it.”

  Inigo gazed over at Corrie-Lyn on the next sunlounger. “How is she?”

  “Stable. She should wake up in half an hour or so. Your biononics give you an advantage.”

  Inigo nodded slowly. “You kept your word. Thank you.”

  “I know she hates me, but truly, I’m not one of the bad guys. I just have a job to do.”

  “Indeed.” Inigo started flexing his limbs, grimacing at the chemical-induced stiffness. “What do you do for fun?”

  “I don’t.”

  Inigo gave the city another look. “That looks deserted.”

  “It is. Ozzie has fully embraced his whole living recluse legend.”

  “Great Lady, you actually found him?”

  “Yes.”

  Inigo peered around, unable to contain his excitement. “So where is he?”

  Aaron held up a finger for silence. On cue a woman’s rhythmic groans could be heard from the open bedroom window.

  “Ah,” Inigo muttered. “What’s he like?”

  “Not pleased to see me and especially not you.”

  “Yeah. We never did hit it off.” He stood up cautiously and went over to Corrie-Lyn. His field scan ran a fast check. “So what’s the plan?”

  “I’ll tell you when Ozzie comes down.”

  “Whatever.” Inigo wandered into the house and found the kitchen. After a burst of enthusiastic complim
ents at discovering the culinary unit sitting amid all the historic cooking appliances, he started issuing it a complicated list. Several maidbots followed him back out to the veranda, carrying contemporary dishes: meal for two.

  Corrie-Lyn finally shook off the sedative amid a flurry of cursing and groans. After a moment hugging a relieved Inigo, she shot Aaron a vicious glare. “Bastard.”

  “We’re alive. The Chikoya can’t locate us. And I’ve found Ozzie.”

  “So where is he?”

  “I’m sure he’ll join us soon.”

  “He’s not happy about this,” Inigo explained.

  “Tell him to get in line.” But she relented when Inigo led her over to the table where the maidbots had laid out the meal. “Oh, wow, real food.” She hesitated.

  “It’s genuine,” Inigo reassured her.

  She grinned her gratitude and started wolfing down the keanfish starter, dipping the tassels into a plum and rador sauce. Aaron went into the kitchen and ordered his own meal from the culinary unit, eating it alone on the scrubbed pine table.

  An hour later Ozzie still hadn’t come down. It was pushing the screw-you point a little far, Aaron decided. Inigo and Corrie-Lyn were chatting happily on the veranda, holding hands at the table like a couple on a first date as they finished their second bottle of wine. All the scene lacked was candles and twilight. The chamber’s light hadn’t varied since they’d arrived.

  Aaron went upstairs and knocked politely on the bedroom door. There was no answer. Ozzie was being deliberately difficult, which was understandable but unacceptable. He went into the room. It was dark inside, with the big wooden shutters closed and the slats down. Ozzie and the woman were cuddled up on the bed. The woman was sleeping. Colorful patterns on her space-black body glowed in phosphorescent hues, shifting slowly in time with her breathing. Aaron hesitated at that. They reminded him of OCtattoos, a technology from so long ago that he didn’t even understand where the memory had come from.

  Ozzie raised his head and peered at Aaron. “What, dude?”

  “Quicker we start, the quicker it’s over.”

  “This is the middle of the night, you moron.”

  Aaron gestured at the light spilling in through the open door.

  “Yeah? So? The light never goes out in Octoron. You make your own days here, man. And this is my night. Now take a hike.”

  “No. You come downstairs now and greet Inigo.”

  “Or what?”

  “I start getting unpleasant.”

  “Fucking fascist.” Ozzie slithered off the bed, muttering. “Drown in your own shit.” He found a silk robe and tugged the belt tight emphatically. “Used to some goddamn respect in my own home.” He combed his fingers through his mass of wavering wayward hair.

  “I know. Turn your back for a moment and the whole Ozziedamned universe falls to barbarism.”

  Ozzie glared at him for a long moment. It actually made Aaron nervous. Secondary routines were poised to activate his biononic defenses.

  “Don’t push it, creepy boy,” Ozzie growled.

  “Sorry, but you’re not making my life easy.”

  Ozzie stomped past him out onto the first-floor landing. “That’s not what I was born to do.”

  “So what with all this daylight, I guess I don’t have to worry myself too much over those vampires,” Aaron said to the legend’s back.

  Inigo and Corrie-Lyn glanced around as Ozzie walked out onto the veranda, looking for all the world like guilty schoolkids. Inigo started to get up. “This wasn’t my idea, but I’m genuinely pleased we can finally—” He began.

  “No shit, asshole.” Ozzie dropped down hard in one of the chairs around the table. He gave the remains of the meal a suspicious look and picked up a tantrene sausage. “Get on with it.”

  “Okay, then. So what’s the plan?” Inigo asked Aaron.

  Aaron sat at the table, trying to project the impression of a reasonable moderator. “My original goal was to take you into the Void,” he told Inigo. “The intention was to establish a link with the Heart or nucleus or whatever it is that has sentient control of high-level functions in there. With that communication channel open, it was hoped to initiate negotiations.”

  Ozzie shrugged. “Makes sense in a lame-ass sort of way. We know we can’t shoot the thing down or blow it up. Who would negotiate?”

  “I’m not aware what form the negotiations were to take. My job was to secure the link. After that … I’d know.”

  “How in the Lady’s name was I supposed to start talking to the Heart?” Inigo asked incredulously. “Haven’t you people shared any of my dreams? You only reach the Heart after you have achieved fulfillment.”

  “There is a methodology, I know,” Aaron said. “That is, I’m certain I have procedures to follow once we get inside.”

  Inigo threw up his hands and slumped back in his chair for a sulk.

  “Told you so,” Corrie-Lyn said smugly. “This whole mission is a complete waste of time. You murdered hundreds of people for nothing.”

  “So why come here, man?” Ozzie asked. “Why me? Everyone who knows me in the Commonwealth knows I don’t do this kind of shit anymore. And your boss knows me, too much.”

  “There are several ways I would expect you to help. One would be an ultradrive ship we can use to fly to the Void.”

  “Dude, you need to stay current. Okay, first off, I don’t have an ultradrive. If I need that kind of shit … well, let’s just say I’ve got an arrangement with ANA. It’ll send me one if I ask. But we can’t ask anymore, can we? Second, your replacement”—he stabbed a forefinger at Inigo—“has just launched.”

  “The Pilgrimage?” Corrie-Lyn asked. There was awe in her voice.

  “Oh, yeah, babe. They’re truly that dumb.”

  “How do you know?” Aaron asked.

  “Myraian grooves all that cruddy gossip from the Commonwealth.”

  “Myraian? The lady upstairs?”

  “Yeah. The lady upstairs. Who, I’ll tell you for free, is mighty peed off with all of you right now, not least over mindspace crashing, so watch your mouth. I got a private TD link from the Spike to the Commonwealth. So even if you’re out of my gaiafield’s range, you can still get to dig what Araminta’s been doing.”

  Inigo ignored the jibe about the gaiafield. “It will take them months to reach the Void, so—”

  Ozzie’s harsh laughter cut him off. “Seriously, man, you need to get current. I’m going to open my house net for you to access. Catch up, and we’ll talk again in the morning. You know, before you leave in a cloud of gloom and defeat.”

  He left them on the veranda and went back upstairs. At the last he opened his gaiamotes a fraction.

  Inigo didn’t like the arrogance he exuded one little bit; it verged on smugness. Standard communication icons were slipping up into his exovision as the house’s nodes acknowledged his u-shadow. “We’d better see what’s been going on,” he said.

  “Yeah,” Aaron agreed. His gaiamotes gave nothing away, but he sounded troubled.

  Ozzie’s temper had improved slightly when he came down for breakfast the next morning. That was deliberately quite a while after he’d woken the first time. He and Myraian had gone at it the way they had the night before, and after that he’d dozed contentedly for an hour. Then there was a shower—none of that modern itchy spore crap that clogged up his hair but a proper hot water and scented gel affair. Myraian hadn’t joined him, which was a shame, but you couldn’t have everything in life. Well, actually you could if you’d lived as long as he had, but then you learned not to be too demanding of people. They were transient enough without the stresses and strains everyone unwittingly put on a relationship. It had taken a long time for him to learn why it was women never stayed with him beyond a couple of decades, so now he knew how to treat them right. Or at least fake treating them right.

  Myraian was dressed and ready when he finally came out of the bathroom in his shorts and T-shirt. She’d resequenced herself
back to her mid-twenties, then tweaked various chromosomes to produce a great figure, which, in combination with a mind that was away mushrooming with fairies most of the time, made her utterly irresistible to him. No accounting for some things, but she’s perfect for me at this time of life. He took an enjoyable look at the thin ankle-length skirt of sky-blue cotton and the black mesh shirt that with her skin color made it look like she was wearing nothing at all. Her skinlight patterns shone through the thin weave, creating weird diffusion ripples.

  “Cool combo,” he told her. “Kinda earth mother meets dominatrix.”

  “Thank you.” She shook her hair, allowing the long blond, auburn, and pink tresses to sway around her head in an underwater slow motion as the fluff fronds elevated it.

  And no way was he ever putting them in no matter how much she nagged. “Let’s go catch them crying into their teacups.”

  She pouted. “You should stay up here. I’ll teach them not to bully my baby Ozzie.”

  “They’re not nice people,” he told her again, hoping it registered this time. “Don’t let them bug you. And really, man, don’t get cross with them. I don’t want any of that.”

  “I’ll eat them up, scrummy yummy,” she promised.

  “Yeah.” Okay, maybe it’s not so much the mind that’s the attraction.

  He found Aaron, Inigo, and Corrie-Lyn in the lounge, slouched across the couches and looking slightly dazed like a bunch of students from his time at Caltech pulling an all-nighter. The only thing missing was the pizza boxes. They did stare a little at Myraian but didn’t say anything. Ozzie wasn’t really surprised when it was Corrie-Lyn who rounded on him first. She reminded him of not a few ex-wives.

  “You knew! You knew you were going to die in the expansion, and you won’t do anything to help us?” she barked.

  “I normally have orange juice, coffee, and toast for breakfast. Man, the old habits are the hardest to break, don’t you find?” His u-shadow gave the culinary unit its instructions.

 

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