The Temporal Void

by Peter F. Hamilton

  The woman either didn’t care or didn’t know. She was young, and attractive, wearing a fashionable grey-blue dress whose skirt showed off long legs. Men making their way down the slope cast admiring glances and pinged her. She smiled loftily, ignoring the attention. She also somehow managed to ignore the Ellezelin paramilitary capsules racing low overhead, their sirens screeching and dousing the pavement with strobing lasers.

  Ignoring them to a degree that she was unaware of three larger capsules prowling the sky above the avenue’s rooftops. Unaware as they suddenly stopped their circling to powerdive. She was still unaware right up to the moment when their seven-gee deceleration smacked them down beside her with such force their pressure waves burst the glass window she was looking through. She screamed as she was shoved painfully to her knees amid the glittering shards, her arms folded round her head to try to protect her. The big capsules halted, floating ten centimetres above the concrete. Their malmetal doors opened fast, and Major Honilar jumped out, leading his welcome team into a surround and secure formation, putting the woman at the centre of a circle produced by the nozzles of fifteen high calibre energy weapons. She was screaming incoherently as they encircled her, blood running from a hundred tiny glass nicks, her dress all but shredded.

  ‘Shut the fuck up,’ Major Honilar bellowed at her.

  Everyone on the outside of the three capsules who had flung themselves flat, lifted their heads to see what in Ozzie’s name was going on. They saw an armour-suited figure grab the woman’s hair and lift her brutally to her feet. Saw the agony on her mutilated face. Saw the horrific amount of blood saturating her clothes, dripping liberally on to the pavement. Several of the more astute ones delivered what they were seeing directly to unisphere news stations.

  ‘Araminta, you are now in the protective custody of the Intermediate Ellezelin forces.’ The suited figure pushed her towards the nearest capsule.

  ‘Hey!’ someone on the street protested.

  One of the welcome team fired a small enhanced explosive projectile over their heads. The detonation forced everyone to cower on the floor again.

  ‘If anyone attempts to interfere with our operation they will be shot,’ Major Honilar announced loudly. He pushed the bloody, sobbing woman into his capsule, which lifted immediately, its malmetal door still closing as it reached rooftop height. The remainder of the welcome team retreated back into their capsules, covering the prone bystanders in a classic hostile withdrawal protocol.

  Sitting drinking their morning tea on the balcony of the cafe opposite the drama, Oscar and his team watched the last capsule lift hurriedly into the city’s artificially clear sky.

  ‘Good deployment,’ Beckia said with grudging admiration. She was wearing a silver-edged beret in the local style, helping to make her look even more beguiling.

  ‘As subtle as a kick in the balls,’ Tomansio retorted dismissively. ‘Look at them.’ He waved a hand towards the stunned citizens who were slowly picking themselves up. There was a lot of anger on their faces.

  Oscar watched several of them shaking their fists at the sky, shouting obscenities. He was glad he was back wearing civilian clothes. It wasn’t going to be pleasant for any of the Ellezelin troops caught alone after today.

  ‘I think Major Honilar is getting somewhat aggrieved,’ Beckia said. ‘What’s that, the fifth Araminta the recognition programs have found for him this morning?’

  ‘Liatris is doing well,’ Tomansio said.

  ‘I doubt the latest victim thinks that,’ Oscar said. He couldn’t drink his cinnamon-flavoured espresso now. The callousness he’d just witnessed was triggering a lot of guilt. The poor woman was perfectly innocent, her only crime to have roughly the same dimensions and features as the real Araminta. That way the whole incident could be blamed on the recognition software that had plucked her image from one of the street-watch sensors along Daryad Avenue, alerting the welcome team to her location.

  ‘This is your operation, Oscar,’ Tomansio rebuked. ‘You knew what would have to be done. Don’t go soft on us now.’

  ‘Of all the people in the galaxy, I am the one who really understands the concept of collateral damage best of all,’ Oscar announced.

  ‘So you are. Then you know she was a necessary casualty.’

  ‘That doesn’t make it right.’

  ‘Oscar, Ellezelin invading Viotia isn’t right. Hunting Araminta isn’t right, but we’re all doing it because we all know she has to be found.’

  ‘What was her name?’ Oscar asked, staring down on the broad avenue. More people were heading down the slope now, marching to the docks to make their demands heard by the Senate delegation. It was all futile, he knew. Living Dream didn’t care for their opinion, nor that of the Senate. The delegation and talks with Phelim and the Prime Minister were just buying the welcome team more time to find their target.

  ‘Does it matter?’ Beckia asked.

  ‘Yes, actually, it does,’ Oscar said. ‘We used her.’

  ‘I’ll have Liatris check it out when he has a moment,’ Tomansio said.

  ‘Thank you.’

  Tomansio and Beckia finished their drinks. Oscar still couldn’t bring himself to touch what was left of his. People were getting hurt, and he was the cause. He knew it was stupid, but he really hadn’t considered that aspect of the operation when he agreed to help Paula. Dushiku’s unisphere interface code hung in his exovision, so very, very tempting. Talking things through with his calm, rational partner would make things feel so much better. It was also a sign of weakness which the Knights Guardian wouldn’t take too kindly. So he sighed when Tomansio and Beckia rose from the table and gave him an enquiring glance.

  ‘Coming,’ he said.

  They took a public cab from outside the cafe. It rode quickly and smoothly along the metro track that ran down the middle of Daryad Avenue, taking them up the slope into the grid of taller modern buildings. Ten minutes later it dropped them off in the Palliser precinct, where they walked into a bar that was several social levels below the cafe they’d just left. It was wedged in between a trike repair garage and a wholesale packaging store. A cheap framework of composite which was supposed to have aircoral grown over it, only someone had messed up the pruning hormones leaving one corner and half the roof misshapen, with lumps and cracks. Plastic sheeting had been epoxied over most of the splits decades ago, sealing it against the elements, but they didn’t look good. A lot of the patches were peeling away. The current owner had pushed them back and held them down with thick black tape. Sallow fungal weeds were growing out of the pocks on the roof, parasiting the aircoral’s paltry nutrients.

  Oscar glanced down to the far end of the street where the Colwyn City’s big confluence nest building stood at the intersection, squat and aloof, looking fortress-like compared to the shabbiness of the structures around it.

  Inside, the bar was little better, with the windows obscured by ancient hologram adverts, and fading overhead lighting strips adding little to the illumination. Tables were scattered about on the ancient wood floor, interspaced with pool tables and tri-gamer stations. Only the counter had decent lighting, with suspended white globes projecting a monochrome glow across the beer pumps.

  There were less than ten customers in total. Two hardcore barflies up on stools lining up shot glasses and aerosols, one loner sitting at a tri-game feeding it with his cash coin, and the others huddled round tables. They all ignored the newcomers.

  Tomansio gave the bartender an order for four beers and they claimed a corner table. A service bot trundled over with their glasses. Two minutes later Cheriton sauntered in. He did draw some glances, with a big grey coat buttoned up tight so he didn’t show off his ‘native’ Ellezelin clothes. Nothing he could do to disguise the hat, though, which he held in one hand.

  ‘So?’ Tomansio asked as Cheriton sat down.

  The gaiafield expert raised his glass as they used their bio-nonics to establish a screening field. ‘Paranoia reigns supreme. They’ve got th
e building net scanning and logging all calls. If I’d encrypted anything I sent they would have dropped a cage over me.’

  ‘Are they suspicious?’

  ‘Not of us, but they know someone is messing with the welcome team’s search. We’re not the only covert team here.’

  ‘Liatris has spotted at least two other infiltrations,’ Beckia said.

  ‘Well between us we’re certainly stirring up a yarsnapper nest of distrust. The Third Dreamer hasn’t helped.’

  ‘I would have thought they’d enjoy that,’ Tomansio said. ‘A near real-time connection into the Void that shows we can get inside, and we have psychic powers when we do get there.’

  ‘Living Dream certainly welcomes that, but it does raise questions about why our dear Cleric Conservator hasn’t been chosen for any communing, nor the rest of the Cleric Council for that matter.’

  ‘Are they chasing after the Third Dreamer now as well?’ Oscar asked.

  ‘No. Best guess is that it’s someone with a strong natural connection to Justine.’

  ‘What do you mean, natural connection?’

  ‘It was always assumed Inigo was related to Edeard somehow, some distant family connection. As we don’t know which colony ship wound up inside the Void, the link could never be proven. So Living Dream is assuming the same for Justine.’

  ‘There can’t be many left,’ Oscar said thoughtfully. ‘She’s been inside ANA for centuries. All her contemporaries are in there, too, that or they’re real-dead.’

  ‘Apart from Admiral Kazimir,’ Cheriton said.

  ‘No!’

  ‘Probably not,’ Cheriton admitted. ‘But we’ll never be able to trace it anyway. Justine’s dream emanated from the Central worlds’ gaiafield; where the Confluence nests are all built and maintained by Highers. Living Dream can’t touch them.’

  ‘Thank Ozzie for that,’ Beckia said.

  ‘Hang on,’ Oscar said. ‘Araminta can hardly have a family connection to a Starflyer.’

  Cheriton grinned. ‘It’s not exactly a perfect theory.’

  ‘So Living Dream’s emphasis is still on the Second Dreamer?’ Tomansio asked.

  ‘Very much so.’ Cheriton took another drink of the beer. ‘You need to get Liatris into my building’s net and subvert their monitors to establish a secure channel for me. If he doesn’t I’ll have to go aggressive to get out if I send you a warning again.’

  ‘I’ll tell him.’

  ‘What progress are you making with Danal and Mareble?’ Oscar asked.

  ‘Some, though I’m not sure it’s going to help much. Danal was given a memory read.’

  Everyone round the table winced.

  ‘Yeah,’ Cheriton said. ‘As were all the others they rounded up at the apartment raid. I took Mareble down to their headquarters in the docks. She got to see him, but he’s still in custody, and she had a restriction order placed on her. As far as Major Honilar is now concerned, just knowing Araminta is a crime.’

  ‘So they’re no use, then?’

  ‘I wouldn’t say that, exactly.’

  Beckia gave Cheriton a knowing glance. ‘You didn’t?’

  ‘What could I do? The whole merry widow syndrome really kicked into overdrive for a while there. She was very upset when I got her back to her hotel room.’

  ‘Dear Ozzie,’ Oscar chuckled into his beer.

  ‘It establishes me as a genuine supportive friend,’ Cheriton said, a shade too defensively. ‘That could be useful. A lot of followers are having their faith shaken by the way Phelim is acting. This wasn’t what they signed up for.’

  ‘Okay, good work,’ Tomansio said.

  Cheriton put his beer back on the table. ‘Have you got any idea where Araminta might be?’

  ‘Not one. Liatris is running a hundred analysis routines trying to figure out where she could have taken refuge. Honilar won’t be far behind him; even he is eventually going to work out he’s being deliberately distracted.’

  ‘Great. Then the paranoia will really kick in.’

  ‘They’ll go for her family next,’ Oscar said miserably. ‘Make a big splash of arresting them to flush her out.’

  ‘Do you want to warn them?’ Tomansio asked.

  ‘If they believe us, and it’s a big if, that might make it harder for Honilar to round them up. Worst case scenario it’ll take him an extra half hour. You keep telling me every minute is precious.’

  ‘Sounds like a plan. I’ll start calling them.’

  ‘I’d better get back,’ Cheriton said. He stood up and slipped through the privacy screen.

  ‘Nothing from the monitors we’ve got on Cressida,’ Beckia said as they waited for Tomansio to complete his anonymous calls to Araminta’s family. ‘We’ll go to Nik’s next, see if any of her old colleagues can give us a hint where she might be.’

  ‘Sure,’ he said. His u-shadow told him Paula was calling on a secure channel.

  ‘Any progress?’ she asked.

  ‘The Second Dreamer is Araminta, a Viotia native. So far she’s managed to give everyone the slip. We’re chasing up what leads we’ve got, but we’re not the only ones here.’

  ‘You’re sure it’s Araminta?’

  ‘Oh yes.’ Oscar smiled fondly as he recalled their second visit to the apartments. He’d actually laughed out loud when he saw the top of the water tank lying on the bathroom floor. And from what they could determine, she’d stopped for a cup of tea and some biscuits before scooting out of there. That was real class – or total insanity. Either way, he was rather looking forward to the time when he finally got to meet her. ‘Living Dream knows it, too.’

  ‘Can you get her first?’

  ‘We’ll do our best.’

  ‘I have something to tell you,’ Paula said.

  ‘This doesn’t sound good.’

  ‘There is a Faction agent in a very powerful starship, equivalent to yours. They just fired a black hole weapon into Hanko. The planet is currently imploding.’

  Oscar’s skin turned chilly. He stared at the bar’s colourful hologram adverts without seeing them. ‘Hanko?’

  ‘Yes. I’m sorry, Oscar.’

  ‘But I captained the Dublin there during the Prime attack,’ he protested weakly. ‘We went through hell protecting Hanko.’

  ‘I know. This is a new and very dangerous type of weapon. No one expected it to be used like this. I’m telling you so you understand the Factions are becoming desperate. Be very careful acquiring this Araminta. It is not a game.’

  ‘I understand. Why was Hanko so important to them?’

  ‘Inigo may have been on it.’

  ‘Wow. I see. Did he escape?’

  ‘We don’t know. There’s no communication link to the planet any more.’

  ‘Shit.’

  ‘Oscar. There’s something else. I’m telling you in case I vanish. I suspect there’s a good chance the agent was the Cat.’

  ‘Oh no. No, no, no. Not her. She’s in suspension. You put here there for fuck’s sake. That was the one thing I made very sure of after they re-lifed me.’

  ‘I don’t know for certain yet. And it’ll only be a clone if it is her.’

  ‘Only a clone? Oh Jesus. Where is she?’

  ‘I don’t know. But if she turns up on Viotia, your Knights Guardian might be tempted to jump ship.’

  ‘Oh fuck!’ he said that out loud, very loud. Beckia and Tomansio gave him a curious glance.

  ‘Now you know,’ Paula said. ‘You can take precautions.’

  ‘Precautions? Against the Cat, in an ultradrive ship, with a superweapon? What kind of deranged moron let her have these things in the first place?’

  ‘As I said, the Factions are getting desperate.’

  ‘Wait. Why would you vanish?’

  ‘She, or someone like her, tried to kill me. She’ll probably try again. You know what she’s like.’

  ‘I want to go home.’

  ‘And you will. Not long now.’

  ‘Damn, I hate you.’


  ‘Hate is good. It helps keep you focused.’

  ‘It’s not good,’ he protested irritably. ‘It makes you irrational.’

  ‘Which makes you unpredictable. Which gives your enemies a difficult time determining your actions. It will be harder for her to set a trap for you.’

  ‘I didn’t have any goddamn enemies before you dragged me into this.’

  ‘If you genuinely need back-up, I will come to Viotia. I simply prefer not to unless there is no alternative. Do you want me there?’

  Oscar took a long breath and glared up at the ceiling. ‘No. I have everything perfectly under control.’ He told his u-shadow to end the call.

  ‘Everything all right?’ Tomansio asked.

  ‘Blissfully wonderful. Come on, let’s get over to Nik’s.’ While Viotia’s still here.

  *

  The winds on Hanko had always presented a problem to star-ships, or any flying machine, whether they used ingrav or regrav. The pressure which the unpredictable turbulence produced on the hull pushed the vessels about as they neared the ground. At high altitude it didn’t really matter, precision wasn’t necessary above the cloud level. But close to the ground it became more of a problem. Squalls and microbursts could shove the whole ship down unexpectedly, bringing it perilously close to a crash. As a consequence, nothing flew below eight hundred metres unless they were landing at Jajaani. That was in ordinary conditions.

  As the planet’s frozen surface began to quake and buckle prior to its final, fatal implosion, the storms accelerated relentlessly with windspeeds rising to over two hundred kilometres an hour. Aaron found there was only one way to fly through such an environment: using the kind of speed and power that no wind could ever affect.

  The Lindau hit mach twelve as he took it down to an altitude of five hundred metres. At that velocity, through a dense typhoon of hail, it didn’t so much fly as rip out a vacuum contrail. Supersonic annular blast waves radiated out from the force field, blasting the ice and soil below to granulated ruin. A thick column of lightning blazed along its roiling wake before discharging into sheets that spread over hundreds of square kilometres. Far above the starship, the upper cloud level bulged and seethed as if some massive creature was clawing at the planetary blanket.