The Evolutionary Void

by Peter F. Hamilton

  With darkness falling, the hulls of the giant ships curving away above her created an unavoidable impression of being trapped in a metallic canyon with no end. The regrav fields supporting the ships pulsed oddly, creating unpleasant effects in her stomach. There were no toilets. Nothing to eat or drink. Nowhere to rest. The noise of everyone talking and complaining together, along with crying distressed children, was unnerving and depressing. Only the gaiafield with its shared sensation of anticipation kept her spirits up.

  Five hours pressed up next to a band of boisterous women who boasted about their genetic reprofiling to Amazonian twenty-year-olds. They wore T-shirts with embroidered slogans: Dinlay’s Lurve Squad. Badder Than Hilitte. I’m Gonna Get DinLAYd.

  Mareble and Danal exchanged a sardonic look, and closed their ears to the bawdy talk and dirty laughter. It was amazing how some people interpreted the fulfilment the Pilgrimage was bringing them to.

  Eventually, after far too long in a Honious-like limbo they arrived at the base of ramp 13. After the chaos she’d endured, she let out a quiet sob of relief.

  ‘It’s real,’ she whispered to Danal as they began the slow walk up the slope. The Dinlay girls followed them up, but the crowd here wasn’t so bad. Thousands more were still trudging slowly along the avenue behind and below her. She was rising above them now in every sense.

  He gripped her hand and squeezed tight as his mind let out a surge of gratitude. ‘Thank you,’ he told her. ‘I would never have made it without you.’

  For one brief instant she thought of Cheriton, and the short hot comforting time she’d spent with him after Danal’s arrest – how in turn he’d given her the fortitude to get through that period of misery and disorientation. Somehow she didn’t let the pang of guilt out. After all, even the Waterwalker had lapsed when he tried to bind the world to his faulty notion of unity. From that he had emerged triumphant.

  ‘We made it though,’ she said. ‘I love you. And we’re going to wake up in Makkathran itself.’

  ‘Och, that’s very sweet,’ a loud amused voice said.

  Mareble fixed on a blank smile and turned round. The man behind her on the ramp wasn’t quite what she was expecting – not that she had any preconceptions, but . . .

  He was taller than Danal, dressed in a kilt and very bright scarlet waistcoat with gold buttons. Not something she ever remembered anyone on Querencia wearing. She was about to say something when a flicker of silver and gold light shone through his thick flop of brown hair, distracting her.

  ‘They call me the Lionwalker,’ he said. ‘But I got that label a long time before our very own Waterwalker came along, so that’s okay, then. Pleased to meet you.’

  ‘Likewise,’ Danal said stiffly as he introduced himself.

  ‘So are you two lovebirds going to get hitched in the Lady’s church?’ Lionwalker asked.

  ‘Mareble is my wife,’ Danal said with such pride that she ignored how rude the stranger was being and smiled up adoringly at her husband as his arm tightened around her.

  ‘Aye, well yes, but a marriage blessed in that church would be a blessing indeed, now wouldn’t it? And take it from a man who’s seen more than his fair share of every kind of bride and groom there is, a marriage needs every bit of help it can get.’ Lionwalker pushed his hand up in salute, showing off an antique silver hip flask. ‘Cheers and bon voyage to the pair of you.’ And he took a long nip. ‘Ahaa, that’ll keep the cold off my toes on the voyage.’

  ‘We don’t need extra help,’ Mareble spluttered.

  ‘If you say so. Mind, it’s a particular person who needs no advice in life.’

  ‘I’ll thank you to keep your homilies to yourself,’ Danal told him. ‘Our guidance comes from the Waterwalker himself.’

  They’d reached the top of the ramp, which frankly Mareble had wanted to achieve under slightly more dignified circumstances. The Lionwalker took another nip, winked lecherously at her, and sauntered off inside the Macsen’s Dream as if he owned the starship.

  ‘Well!’ Danal grunted indignantly. ‘Some of us clearly have a lot longer to go before reaching fulfilment than others.’

  The chamber behind the airlock was a junction of seven corridors. Small, neat solidos flowed smoothly along the walls, indicating the zone where their assigned medical capsules were located.

  ‘Come on,’ Danal said, gripping her hand.

  Mareble narrowed her eyes, staring along the corridor down which the Lionwalker had vanished. ‘I know him,’ she said uncertainly. The memory was elusive. But then the squad of Dinlay Girls were shrieking wildly and running down their corridor like a football team going onto the pitch, which made her chuckle. She let Danal lead her into the labyrinthine interior of the starship. Instinctively, she reached for Dreamer Araminta’s gift, finding her standing on the observation deck of the Lady’s Light. Alone and resolute, staring out through a huge curving transparent section of the forward fuselage.

  Reassured her idol was watching out for all of Living Dream, Mareble strode on with renewed confidence.

  *

  The SI’s icon appeared in Troblum’s exovision, requesting a connection. At least it was asking, he thought, rather than intruding.

  Mellanie’s Redemption was still secreted away in transdimensional suspension above Viotia. Troblum couldn’t quite help that. He had been completely taken by surprise at Araminta’s defection to Living Dream. Given how long she had spent trying to elude them, suddenly turning up and claiming their leadership lacked any kind of logic, at least the kind he understood. He did assume it was some kind of ruse, again not one he could fathom.

  So he waited for her endgame to become clear. After all, if he took flight to another galaxy and, however unlikely it was, she resolved the whole Pilgrimage problem, he’d never know.

  ‘Even if they don’t Pilgrimage, there’s still the Accelerators and Ilanthe and the Cat,’ Catriona had pointed out.

  ‘A solution to the Pilgrimage will by definition have to include and neutralize them,’ he explained patiently.

  ‘I thought you were keen to find out what happened to the trans-galactic expeditions?’

  ‘I am. But the timescale is so short now before we know if Araminta succeeds in getting the Pilgrimage fleet through the barrier I can afford to wait and see if the expansion begins as predicted. If it does, we can outrun it now we have ultradrive.’

  ‘What about Oscar? The SI said it knows where his ship is.’

  ‘Irrelevant now. All that’s left are Gore and Ilanthe, the two real players. This is their war.’

  ‘Are you scared to meet Oscar?’

  ‘No. There’s simply no point.’

  ‘You might be able to open the Sol barrier.’

  ‘No!’ Which was the truth. He’d spent day after day analysing the files in his storage lacuna, working through the theories and equipment they’d developed during his time on the Accelerator station building the Swarm. There was no way round it that he could see, no way to overwhelm the barrier. And he didn’t have enough data on the individual components of the Swarm to see if there was a backdoor. In any case, most of it had been constructed after he left; all he’d done was help set up the manufacturing systems. They would have made a lot of changes and improvements over the decades. He wasn’t current.

  So the Mellanie’s Redemption stayed above Viotia, because it was as good a place as any to wait. After his futile attempt to analyse the Sol barrier he even managed to catch up on some sleep. Time was spent on reviewing the starship’s basic systems, getting up to date on maintenance procedures, fabricating some replacement components in the small high-level on-board replicator. There were also a great many files his u-shadow acquired for him from the unisphere; information and entertainment which would make a life of exile in another galaxy more bearable.

  When the SI’s icon appeared Troblum didn’t authorize the link at once. First of all, he was busy. And then . . . The last couple of weeks had eased him into a state of acceptance. He kn
ew he was leaving. It was simply a question of timing now. And he didn’t really even have to make that decision. The Void’s final expansion phase would begin and he would leave. It was that simple.

  The SI, though, that would bring complications back into his life.

  ‘I know you,’ Catriona Saleeb said. ‘Not knowing what it wanted to tell you will eat you up. And it’s being polite. It could have forced its way into the ship’s link with the unisphere.’

  ‘Yes,’ Troblum sighed. He cancelled the blueprints in his exovision display and looked down at the micromanipulator he was using. Underneath its transparent dome, the clean-environment unit contained a scattering of newly replicated components which he was slowly assembling into a solido projector. He’d obtained enough base programs to construct a reasonable I-sentient personality. It would be himself, he’d decided, a younger, physically fitter version, which would be able to share Catriona’s bed. He’d redesigned the sensory correlations with his own biononics so they were a lot higher than a standard version, allowing him to enjoy the experience to the full. Incorporating those customizations took time. By itself, it was an intriguing problem to solve, one which had absorbed his intellect for several days. It was almost like becoming multiple. Catriona had said she was looking forward to it as well.

  His u-shadow opened the link.

  ‘I have an interesting development to report,’ the SI said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Oscar Monroe has just received a secure call from someone at Bovey’s Bathing and Culinaryware. That’s a macrostore in the Groby touchdown mall in Colwyn City.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘The originator claims to be Araminta. The link was established through a onetime code which Oscar issued. Nobody else knew about it except him and the person it was given to.’

  ‘And you. So any decent e-head could find it.’

  ‘I only know about it because I’m monitoring all the links going in and out of Oscar’s hidden starship. Once I’d intercepted it, cracking the code was tough even for me. It would be beyond most e-heads in the Commonwealth.’

  Troblum frowned at the tiny electronic components inside the micromanipulator case glittering like so many diamonds. ‘But it can’t be from Araminta.’ His u-shadow had put the Pilgrimage departure into a peripheral exovision image, he could see the Pilgrimage fleet on Ellezelin. They had finally finished their chaotic embarkation. Several live feeds were showing Araminta standing in the observation deck of the Lady’s Light. ‘She’s in the flagship. They’re about to launch.’

  ‘Exactly. So why is a onetime code given to her personally by Oscar being activated from Colwyn City?’

  ‘I don’t understand.’ Though it did make the puzzle of why she’d defected to Living Dream more absorbing. Troblum liked puzzles. Not that it changed anything. ‘What did they say?’

  ‘Nothing much. She asked Oscar to meet her in a restaurant on Dryad Avenue in fifteen minutes.’

  ‘But . . .’ Troblum pulled the news feeds to centre. The protective force fields over the construction yard were powering down, leaving the skies wide open for the colossal ships to launch. ‘She’s on board the Lady’s Light. I’m accessing the feed right now.’

  ‘Yes. So either she’s bringing the entire Pilgrimage fleet to Viotia for a quick visit, or there’s something else going on.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Are you taking an interest, Troblum? Are you considering contacting Oscar now?’

  ‘I’m not talking to him. For all I know this is some trick of yours.’

  ‘If it is, it’s a little late in the day.’

  ‘What do you want from me?’

  ‘I’m infiltrating nodes inside the restaurant. Oscar’s team is running checks to provide cover for their man. They’re good but I can elude them. Would you like to observe the meeting?’

  Troblum closed his eyes. Images from the starship’s sensors showed him Viotia as a vast intrusion within spacetime’s gravity field. The planet was only a hundred thousand kilometres away, although the SI didn’t know that. Or perhaps it does.

  The fear and worry which had slowly ebbed away over the last week suddenly resurged, elevating his heart rate. Tiny beads of sweat oozed up out of his pores, chilling his skin. Biononics smoothly countered the physiological aspects, but they couldn’t quell his anxious thoughts. He couldn’t begin to guess what was going on. I don’t understand people, fuck it. Why is Araminta doing this? Why is she trying to kill the galaxy? Why is she calling Oscar? And he must know she won’t be meeting him.

  ‘You said Oscar’s people are checking out the restaurant?’

  ‘Yes. Two of them are physically deploying to cover the building. He’s already on his way.’

  ‘But he knows where Araminta is; he knows she won’t be there. It must be a trap, yet he’s going into it.’

  ‘A trap set by whom? And why? And why now? No weapon in the galaxy can stop the Pilgrimage ships, we know that. Your Commonwealth Navy can’t break through the force fields Ilanthe has provided, nor can the warrior Raiel.’

  ‘Are you saying it isn’t a trap?’

  ‘I’m telling you what’s happening, and offering to share.’

  ‘Why? Why do you want to involve me?’

  ‘To finally achieve what I’ve so often wrongly been accused of doing: influencing the outcome of human affairs. We must have more options ranged against Living Dream and Ilanthe. And the Cat, of course. You may yet be able to play a true part, Troblum. Do you want that?’

  He looked across the cabin at Catriona, who was bestowing on him that worshipful look again. He put his head in his hands. She’s not real. Nothing I have is real. With biononics amplifying his strength he suddenly thumped his fist down on top of the micromanipulator unit. It made a dull thudding sound, and some of the tiny components jittered around inside. His fist rose again. This time his biononics added a weapons pattern to the impact. The dome shattered, and the delicate little mechanisms inside were crushed beyond salvation. Electronic components scattered across the decking, ruined by both the violence and the air that contaminated their flimsy molecular structure.

  ‘Show me,’ he told the SI. ‘And who is Mr Bovey?’

  *

  ‘Come alone.’ Araminta had been insistent about that.

  Oscar appreciated the sentiment, but . . . Some things were just too big to leave to goodwill and pleasantries. He took a table in the middle of Andrew Rice’s restaurant at the bottom of Daryad Avenue, an ancient (by Viotia standards) wood and carbon-panel building barely a mile from the docks where Elvin’s Payback still sat in the warehouse, overlooked and unnoticed by the managers trying to restore order to the docks. There weren’t many people in; the windows had just been replaced after being smashed. Oscar was sure it should have had more tables, too; the remaining ones were certainly spaced unusually far apart. Perhaps some had been looted. Who loots a table?

  A human waiter came over to take his order, and he asked for a salad. He rather liked the look of the enormous steak and kidney pies a couple of blokes were eating at a corner table, but he’d only just finished his tea and twister. It had taken less than ten minutes to walk to Rice’s from the Elvin’s Payback, which was cause for mild suspicion. Did Araminta know their location? It was hard to see how.

  Beckia was out in Daryad Avenue, keeping watch as she browsed through a recently reopened store opposite the restaurant. Cheriton had taken up position in a lane at the back, also scanning round for any sign of other agents or some kind of trap, or just something out of the ordinary. Oscar still couldn’t figure out what was going on. The gaiafield quite clearly revealed Araminta standing in the observation deck of the Lady’s Light, where she had remained for the last couple of days. Ethan and Taranse walked across the empty chamber to her, and bowed in unison.

  ‘Embarkation is complete, Dreamer,’ Taranse said. He looked exhausted but supremely content, a man who’d achieved his goal in life.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said.
‘You have done a remarkable job.’ She turned to Ethan. ‘Are we ready to launch?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said with open delight. ‘The ultradrives appear to be functional.’

  ‘Very well. Please ask the captains to lift and set a course for the Void.’

  ‘It will be done.’

  ‘Is there any sign of Ilanthe?’

  ‘No, Dreamer.’

  ‘No matter. I’m sure she will make herself known before we reach the boundary.’ She turned back to the tall strip of transparent fuselage in time to see the construction yard’s last layer of force fields deactivate. It was dawn outside, a bright yellow-gold radiance illuminated the colossal Pilgrimage ships, and she smiled at the sight. Then the decking trembled and the Lady’s Light slowly lifted out of its regrav suspension, rising into Ellezelin’s clear sky.

  ‘Holy crap,’ Oscar grunted. He truly had no idea what he was doing here now. In fact he started to worry that Tomansio was right and Living Dream had broken into her mind so they could clear up any possible remaining problems. Which was bollocks, he knew. Why wait until now?

  His salad arrived. He gave it a dispirited look.

  ‘Ah, life just got interesting again,’ Beckia said. ‘Here we go.’ Her link showed him a Mr Bovey climbing out of a cab on Daryad Avenue just outside the restaurant. It was the middle-aged black-skinned one Oscar had talked to before.

  ‘Yes! Your money is mine,’ Cheriton declared. ‘Pay up.’

  The team had been running a pool on who would actually show up at the restaurant. Oscar had put his money on the elusive cousin Cressida.

  ‘Anything suspicious?’ Oscar asked the rest of the team. Liatris, who was flying coverage over Colwyn City in a modified capsule, said no, the area was clear of any covert activity. Back in Elvin’s Payback, Tomansio also reported a clean sweep.

  The Mr Bovey walked straight into the restaurant and sat down next to Oscar. He was wearing a conservative grey toga suit that barely shimmered, which made him look quite dignified.