The Commonwealth Saga 2-Book Bundle

by Peter F. Hamilton

  She was, she told the security staff, Jasmine Sheldon. Did they not know that? Did they not know she was one of Nigel’s fifth-generation granddaughters, a first-lifer, and direct lineage? How else could she enter a Sheldon residence unless she had the correct family security clearance? Had no one told them she always took the start of her mid-year vacation at this mansion? Her friends from school would be dropping by in a couple of days. Until then she would have a quiet time to herself. Any problems, talk to the Dynasty office in Illanum. They sort out any difficulties encountered by senior family members. Besides, she obviously couldn’t go back now, the cab was already halfway down the drive. She would take the Bermuda room. No need to show her upstairs, she knew the way. Her three cases of luggage followed behind her like cowed employees.

  “Wow!” Orion breathed after she vanished up the broad stairs. He watched the humiliated security staff go into a huddle, the vertical lines of green and red OCtattoos on their cheeks glowing bright in agitation. They broke apart to scurry off into the mansion’s vast interior. “Now what do I do?”

  There was nobody around to suggest a course of action; just when he needed advice the most. Very different from last night. The security people had been polite but firm when they arrived at the mansion. He was free to use any facility in the building he wanted, including the health spa and sports gym down in the basement. If he required any clothes or commercial item he simply had to ask and it would be delivered. The kitchen staff would cook whatever meal he wanted. As for the grounds, please stay within three miles of the mansion, otherwise he could walk where he wished.

  Ozzie was now nowhere to be seen. They’d had a late breakfast together, while Ozzie explained to Orion and Tochee the reasons behind their house arrest. Orion hadn’t really understood the political intricacies, just that Ozzie and his friend Nigel had some kind of big bust-up over the way the war was going; and a crime that Ozzie had been involved in decades ago was a part of it. “It’ll be cleared up by the end of the week,” Ozzie said. “Nigel will be kissing my ass and begging forgiveness. You’ll see.”

  “I do not mind,” Tochee said. “This is a pleasant place to spend some time. They promised me continued access to your databases. After so much traveling I am enjoying a respite where I can broaden my education.”

  “Yeah, okay,” Orion told him. “I can hang around for a week of luxury.” He smiled to show he meant it, all the while knowing it was complete Ozzie bullshit. After so much time spent together, how Ozzie thought he could still fool either of them was a complete mystery. It was quite obvious they were in deep shit with Nigel Sheldon, and there was nothing Ozzie could do to get them out of it.

  Orion found Tochee and Ozzie in the ground-floor study, walking through a portal projection of the Dark Fortress generator. Ozzie was standing in what resembled a ring of bright comets, looking as if he were wading through them as they circled around his waist.

  The outer shells rotated slowly around him and Tochee. Luminous green equations drifted overhead like mathematical clouds.

  “I believe your knowledge of physics is greater than that of my planet,” Tochee said. “I can offer little insight into the nature of quantum foundation theory. It may be poor translation again, but five geometry field transection is not a subject I have ever heard of, let alone know how to manipulate.”

  “ ’Sokay, dude,” Ozzie said magnanimously. “I was just thinking out loud.”

  “Girl!” Orion blurted. He stood on the edge of the projection, unable to move forward, as if it were generating a force field. “There’s a girl.”

  Ozzie and Tochee both turned around to face him. “Howsthat?” Ozzie asked.

  “Girl.” Orion waved his arms, gesturing furiously at the study door. “Out there, a girl!”

  “Ah. There’s a girl out there, then?” Ozzie said.

  “Yes!”

  “So?”

  “Ozzie, she’s incredible, she’s so beautiful.”

  “Look, dude, I’ve told you: hands off the security staff.”

  “No, no: not.”

  “Not?”

  “She’s not security.”

  “Who is she then?”

  “A Sheldon. There was some mix-up; she’s here on holiday. But, Ozzie, they’ll throw her out as soon as they talk with the Dynasty office in Illanum.”

  “Yeah, probably.”

  “Ozzie!”

  “What? Jeez, you can be a pain.”

  “Stop them.”

  Ozzie’s face screwed up in puzzlement. “Why?”

  “I believe I understand, friend Orion,” Tochee said. “You are attracted to the young female of your species. Is she one totally fuckable babe? Perhaps similar to Andria Elex on the unisphere show about human mating habits on the world of Toulanna that we accessed at the hotel?”

  A mortified Orion turned bright red.

  Ozzie gave Tochee a moderately surprised look, then turned back to Orion. “Did you show Tochee that kind of show? I thought I’d locked access away from porn.”

  “Ozzie, forget that! She’s got to stay. I want to … I want …” He lifted his hands in despair.

  “To bang her brains out?”

  “No. Well … You know. I just don’t want her to go. I’ve never seen anybody like her before. Please.”

  “All right, this is really simple, kid: ask her to stay.”

  “What?”

  “Go up to her. Smile. Say hello. Strike up a conversation. If you get on fine, ask her to stay. If she says yes, I’ll back you up with Nige if our guardian Nazis get heavy.”

  “What’s the Nazis?”

  Ozzie clapped his hands together and made a shooing motion. “Go talk to her. Go on. And remember, don’t try and be smart. What you are makes you interesting. Now out! I’m trying to save the universe here, and I don’t have much time left.”

  The study door shut behind Orion. He couldn’t quite understand how he’d wound up back in the hall and no better off than when he went in. Ozzie had been absolutely no use whatsoever. That hurt. He’d been kind of counting on Ozzie.

  “Think,” he told himself sternly. Maybe Ozzie was right, maybe he should just start with saying hello. Anything else would seem desperate.

  He went back to his room and rubbed a lot of toothgell on his teeth, rinsing twice. His hair was easy to comb now thanks to the stylist back at the Ledbetter Hotel. The active biogenic dermal cream had worked wonders on his pimples overnight. A quick check in the mirror showed a face that was relatively presentable, certainly better than when they walked off the end of the path. He was just wearing a short-sleeved orange shirt and knee-length swim shorts, which made it tempting to dress up, but that would be out of character and seem like he was trying to impress.

  Okay, so … go!

  He couldn’t find her. She wasn’t in the Bermuda room when he knocked tentatively on the door; she wasn’t in any of the lounges. When he ventured into the kitchen, the cook hadn’t seen her.

  After twenty minutes of fruitless searching, he gave up. The security staff must have received the authorization to eject her. He wandered out onto the terrace, almost ready to cry. She’d been so beautiful, and he’d actually been prepared to make an utter fool of himself by opening his mouth. Anything, just to be in her presence for a moment. He leaned on the stone railing above the lower terrace where the oval pool stretched out into the gardens. On the whole, he’d been better off walking the paths.

  “Hi. Are you one of the staff?”

  Orion jumped and spun around. She was sitting right behind him in one of the sunloungers, dressed in a pale peach toweling robe. A delicate finger pressed a pair of silver shades up from her nose, so she could look at him properly.

  “Uh, no.”

  “Oh, which branch are you from?”

  “I don’t live in a tree.” It was out before he could stop it. He closed his eyes and groaned, knowing his wretched face would be coloring again.

  Jasmine Sheldon laughed. It was an ench
antingly soft sound. But not mocking, he thought. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I’ve seen rather a lot of trees lately, can’t stop thinking about them. Um, I’m Orion.”

  “Hi, Orion, I’m Jasmine.”

  He sat on the sunlounger next to her. “What are you reading?” A large leather-bound book was resting on her legs. He twisted around to read the silver lettering on the front. The Hundred Greatest Events of Human History.

  “Found it in the library,” she said. “I was reading about the Great Wormhole Heist.”

  “Really? Does it mention Ozzie?”

  “Don’t think so. I haven’t read all of it, though.”

  “Ah, what about a guy called Nazi? Is he in one of the events?”

  “I’ve never heard of him. It’s got an index in the back.” She handed it over. “So why are you here?”

  “Long story.” He flicked through the book that was mainly photos and holograms until he found the index. There were a lot of columns of small print that he had trouble reading.

  She smiled and stretched herself out comfortably on the sunlounger. “It’s going to be a long summer. Assuming we win the war.”

  The toweling robe around her legs fell open as she laid back. Orion was very proud of himself for not staring—not for too long, anyway. Her legs were long and powerful. She was probably stronger than he was. It was a thought that turned his stomach to a kind of cold jelly.

  “Well?” she asked. “I’ve just come from school. I don’t have anything interesting to tell you, just months of lessons and sports afternoons.”

  Her inquisitive eyes were green, he noticed. “Uh, I was living on Silvergalde. My parents had got lost somewhere down the Silfen paths, so I was helping at the Last Pony. That’s a tavern in Lyddington. Anyway … Ozzie turned up one day—”

  She really was an angel. Orion would never have believed he could sit and talk to a girl, and that she’d be interested in what he said; let alone a stunning girl like Jasmine. It wasn’t just her physical beauty that captivated him; she was a lovely person, too. She was eager to hear his story, and asked questions, and was astonished and impressed at the things he’d done and seen, the hardships they’d endured. He began to relax, even though he knew he was babbling on for far too long. But she laughed with him. They shared a sense of humor.

  After a couple of hours, Tochee slid out onto the terrace. Jasmine sat bolt upright, her face registering complete delight. “Oh, my goodness,” she said. “You really are telling the truth.”

  Orion was slightly stung by the implication, but she looked so thrilled he forgave her instantly.

  “Friend Orion,” Tochee said through a slim, top-of-the-line Ipressx array it was holding in its manipulator flesh. “Is this the totally—”

  “This is Jasmine,” Orion told his alien friend hurriedly.

  “I wish you welcome, Jasmine,” Tochee said. “And hope we will be friends.”

  “I’m sure we will be,” she said pertly.

  “I will immerse myself in water,” Tochee said. “It will be a relief. I fear I have been no help to my friend Ozzie this morning.”

  “I think the Dark Fortress is something he’s got to work out for himself,” Orion said.

  Tochee slid over to the stone rail at the edge of the terrace, and rose up to poise the front half of its body on top. The pool was about twenty feet directly below. The locomotion ridges contracted, and it tightened its grip on the array.

  “You’re not going to?” Orion asked.

  Tochee launched itself off the top terrace, and landed in the pool with an almighty splash.

  Jasmine let out a shriek of excitement, and both of them raced over to the railing. Tochee was just surfacing as they peered over the edge. “The water is a perfect temperature,” it called up. Its ridges began to change again, flattening out into long fins. It sped away down the pool, as sleek as any dolphin.

  “Superb!” Jasmine said. She cast off her robe and jumped up onto the rail.

  Orion stared up at her perfect trim body in an act of near-religious worship. She was wearing a simple white one-piece swimsuit made from shiny fabric. That was when he knew he was in love, and they would get married, and spend every day for eternity in bed doing what he’d watched Andria Elex doing, only better and longer.

  “No, wait,” he cried. “It’s too far down.”

  Jasmine flashed him a gorgeous, teasing smile. “Last one in’s a wimp,” she shouted, and dived.

  Orion’s worry turned to outright astonishment. Jasmine seemed to bend over in midflight so her hands were touching her ankles, then she spun around in a somersault, rotated the other way, spun in reverse, and straightened out to hit the water without a splash.

  He gawped in disbelief. She was gliding underwater in a long curve that brought her back to the surface five meters away from where she went in. “Wimp,” she yelled up, laughing. “Wimp, wimp, wimp!”

  Snarling, Orion clambered up on top of the rail, and jumped. He was right, it was a long way down. His legs cycled about crazily. At least he remembered to clamp his hand over his nose just before he hit. Unfortunately by then he was tilted over somewhat so he landed on his side. The hard water slapped him fiercely.

  He struggled back up to the surface, his whole side numb. At first. The sharp stinging began as he bobbed up. He let out a pained groan.

  Jasmine’s laughter cut off, and seconds later she was at his side. “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “Sure. Fine. No problem.” His shirt felt as if it was made from metal. He struggled to undo it, then found she was towing him to the steps at the side.

  “You silly thing,” she chided. But there was still a huge smile on her face.

  Orion had managed to get one arm out of the sleeve. He clung to the steps with the other. “Jasmine?”

  “Yes?” She was still smiling at him, her eyes sparkling.

  “Have you got a boyfriend?” Where the chutzpah had come from to ask that he didn’t have a clue.

  She leaned forward and kissed him. It seemed to go on for a long time. Orion wasn’t really sure. Her tongue was inside his mouth, setting off loud fireworks in pleasure centers he didn’t even know existed before.

  When she pulled back, he blinked uncertainly to see her grinning wickedly. “That was a no,” Jasmine told him impishly. She pushed off from the steps, floating on her back, still grinning at him. “Just in case you didn’t realize.”

  “I did,” he whispered helplessly.

  Her arm moved fast, and splashed a whole load of water over him. He splashed back. She giggled, and started kicking up a spume. Orion tugged his shirt off completely, and set off in hot pursuit.

  They messed around in the pool for nearly an hour before Jasmine said she was going back up to her room to dry off for lunch. “I’ll be back in a moment,” she promised as she pulled her robe on again. “Get the cook to make me a burger, with Italian fries, you know, the herb ones. And a side salad.”

  “I’ll do it,” he promised loyally.

  He clambered out of the pool and found a towel in the locker by the showers.

  “Your association seemed to be developing well, friend Orion,” Tochee said. It was sunning itself on the lower terrace beside the pool. Nearly all of its colored fronds were dry again, ruffling in the warm breeze.

  “Do you think so?” Orion asked as he watched Jasmine walk up the stairs to the upper terrace. She waved happily when she was at the top, then hurried off into the mansion.

  “I am not an expert judge of your species, friend Orion, but you were behaving most harmoniously together. It is my belief she enjoyed your company. If she did not, she would not have remained with you; she was under no obligation.”

  “Hey, that’s right!” He picked up his sodden orange shirt. “I’m going to find the cook and then get a clean shirt. Do you want anything?”

  “I believe I would like to try more of the cold vegetable lasagne, with cabbage, please.”

  Ozzie had started t
he morning full of determination. Anger-driven determination, as he would be the first to admit. It would have been sweet to show that pompous dick Nigel how to fix the Dyson Alpha barrier generator. He set to it with an open mind and a burst of enthusiasm. Unfortunately, he soon found out that having Tochee with him wasn’t such a good idea. He became a little tetchy with the alien’s constant questions and apologetic answers to his own inquiries. It soon became very plain that Tochee had only a very limited knowledge of physics. Whether that extended to its entire species, Ozzie promptly stopped caring. All he’d hoped for was a little insight, that Tochee might come at the problem from a different angle. Not a chance.

  By the time Tochee left to “take a break,” Ozzie could have cheered. It had also become depressingly obvious that there had been a significant amount of excellent work done on analyzing the data that the Second Chance had brought back. An alarming quantity of which he was struggling to understand. If he’d been wetwired with maximum interface, and had full access to both his secure store and his asteroid’s RI, he might have managed conversance with the plethora of theories that physicists had put together. Even then, they were only theories.

  But this life around, his wetwiring was limited to the biochip inserts he’d received in preparation for walking the Silfen paths. And although the mansion’s security staff were undyingly courteous, he wasn’t allowed access to the unisphere.

  An age later, he stood inside the big projection of grandiose lattice shells wrapped around their peculiar rings, and gave it a hearty curse. The green clouds of equations that summarized humanity’s finest thoughts on the problem retreated, taking their luminescence to the corners of the study. He almost shut down the projection. Now he’d actually seen the Dark Fortress his earlier notions about it were fast becoming a fantasy inspired by petulance. His virtual hands patted down several columns of icons as if they were annoying insects, and the projection swung around him, running through a complete cycle. It still didn’t make any sense, so he resurrected the second image, a simulation of the shells after the barrier had failed. The extraneous quantum signature was as plain as possible, but without a more accurate image it was impossible to see what it was actually doing, which section of the generator it was disrupting. And the Second Chance had never returned for a close look. The starship had maintained a watch during its visit to the Watchtower, but the data it received from such a distance was constant. Nothing had changed. Ozzie returned the image to a real-time playback. This recording was nothing more than a smudge of data against a backdrop of alien stars. That didn’t help him much either. Then he gave it a surprised glance; it still hadn’t changed. He told his e-butler to run to the end of the recording, and highlight any detected variations. An intriguing notion was forming at the back of his mind.