Night Without Stars (Chronicle of the Fallers Book 2)

by Peter F. Hamilton

  ‘Whoa there, big fella. Nobody’s subverting anything. I exist to sustain my cargo’s life, period.’

  ‘You gave her to an Eliter.’

  ‘You mean young Florian? He was the only human answering my distress beacon. He said this government was a dictatorship, that you persecute anyone with functioning macrocellular clusters.’

  ‘We do not persecute them. We have laws which they constantly challenge. They claim they are better than us. If we drop our guard, they would rule us like the Captains of old.’

  ‘Bad history, huh?’

  ‘Very. Who did you bring to this world? What is her purpose in coming here?’

  ‘Paula? She’s a high-ranking Commonwealth diplomat from the alien contact bureau. Nigel brought her along in case he needed her to negotiate with the local government.’

  ‘A diplomat? He should have brought her to life while he was here. His legacy is not favourable.’

  ‘Got you out of the Void, didn’t he?’

  ‘Not everyone would agree that is a good thing.’

  ‘You and I are going to have to differ on that.’

  ‘What will she do?’

  ‘Help you. Without prejudice.’

  ‘That bothers me. Can you contact her? She should help the legitimate government, not Eliters. They are radicals.’

  ‘If you took me up to the roof and she was in the city, I could link to her. But apart from that, no.’

  ‘Then what use are you?’

  ‘From a practical standpoint, none at all. However, I do have lots of technical information in my memory. That should be useful to someone.’

  ‘Weapons, you mean?’

  ‘Yes, but I would need guarantees that you’d only use them against Fallers. There are ethical issues to consider before I hand over weapons of mass destruction to people I can’t veto.’

  ‘The weapons we have kill Fallers quite effectively already, thank you.’

  ‘Glad to hear it. And congratulations on nuking the Trees. Your spaceships are doing a fine job, there.’

  Stonal narrowed his eyes to regard the machine thoughtfully. ‘I have trouble believing you. You have an answer for everything. You are too glib.’

  ‘Listen, pal, I’ve waited two hundred and fifty-seven years. I can wait another two fifty, no sweat. This isn’t a biological body; I have no time imperative.’

  ‘That means what, exactly?’

  ‘I don’t get bored.’

  ‘I am curious now. What are you waiting for?’

  ‘You keep this society static, right, you and your government pals? That makes it easy to control, to maintain your own status.’

  Stonal glanced at Faustina, who was frowning as if that was not something she’d considered before. ‘Our society has evolved to stability,’ he said genially. ‘I believe that to be an achievement that should not be cast aside.’

  ‘But it will be. When all the Trees are gone, blown up by your Liberty missions, you will be free of the Fallers and that will trigger massive change. Trust me; history is littered with revolutionary transformation mechanisms. I can give you the cultural anthropology lectures, if you like.’

  ‘No thank you. Please explain how this will affect you. You are a machine that has fulfilled its function.’

  ‘My primary function, yes. But once Bienvenido regains contact with the Commonwealth, these memories will be re-lifed.’

  ‘What do you mean, re-lifed?’

  ‘They’ll grow me a new body and download my memories into it. I’ll be born again: re-lifed.’

  ‘Great Giu,’ Faustina whispered.

  ‘I’d do it myself,’ the machine continued, ‘except I haven’t got my own genome in store. But there are copies back on Earth.’

  ‘You await life, then?’ Stonal asked. ‘I’m talking to an . . . embryo?’

  ‘Interesting angle, but I’ll go with it. And it will happen. After the Fallers are gone, your socioeconomic development will continue along more normal lines. It may take a couple of centuries, but you will have starflight again; hell, I can even supply you with the blueprints. I have all that Commonwealth scientific knowledge in my memory – hyperdrive, immortality, fusion power, neural processors, everything. I can cut the development time from Liberty rockets to trans-galactic starships down to a few decades.’

  Stonal turned to Faustina. ‘Please leave.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Leave.’ He didn’t elaborate, merely waited for compliance. She gave him an annoyed glance, then walked out. He waited until the door was closed behind her before bringing the microphone up to his face again. ‘We’re not going to win.’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘Against the Fallers. We are not going to win. The Trees are irrelevant now. The nests are too well established down here, and multiplying. You will not be re-lifed in the Commonwealth. Indeed, once they have devoured us, they may break you open and learn how to build your precious starships. They will be able to fly to every galaxy, including the Commonwealth!’

  ‘Nothing can get through this force field.’

  ‘Indeed, but how long will it last? Another thousand years? And after that, what then?’

  ‘I’m a machine. I lack the biological imperative to survive.’

  ‘How nice for you. What does that mean?’

  ‘If it comes to that, I can self-destruct without a qualm. They will never retro-engineer me, or gain access to my files.’

  ‘So you have failed your own Turing test then. You are content to abandon us while we are overrun by aliens. That is not a human trait.’

  ‘No, dammit, that’s not what I said!’

  ‘We need help, machine – Joey – whatever you truly are. Urgent help. Paula’s arrival may well have triggered our downfall.’

  ‘And I can give you that help. Hell, Paula will be delighted to help you.’

  ‘But it must be on our terms.’

  ‘You want to try that Turing test yourself, buddy?’

  ‘I propose an exchange. You tell me what you want and I’ll provide it. In return, you give me access to Commonwealth technology to identify and kill Fallers, but the detector mechanism must be one all humans can use, not just Eliters.’

  ‘What I want is for humans to win. To achieve that, you’re going to have to compromise.’

  ‘In what fashion?’

  ‘The kind of sensors you’re talking about require knowledge and manufacturing systems which can lead to other devices being built by the same methods. Once the information gets out there, you can’t bring it back. Universal law: data wants to be free.’

  ‘Spinoffs,’ Stonal said in disapproval.

  ‘You got it. So you’re going to have to allow your citizens a little taste of freedom in order for any of you to survive. Best I got.’

  ‘How radical would a viable Faller detector be?’

  ‘I’m not sure. I’d need to give all the data to a group of your scientists and see what actually works in the field. Research and development, we call it.’

  ‘How many scientists?’

  ‘Scientists and the technicians who’d build the equipment – a dozen or so, at least, for a pilot project. Do you have that many you can trust?’

  ‘Possibly.’ Stonal let his gaze wander round the crypt with its plethora of ancient Commonwealth machines. The advanced science division had worked out a great many aspects of the technology inside each gadget, and none of their results had ever got out. ‘I need to raise this with the prime minister before we proceed any further.’

  ‘So you’ve managed to keep buck-passing alive these last three thousand years? Well done, you.’

  *

  The safe house’s living room table had been cleared of all the paperwork from the PSR office. Now it just held files relating to the Gothora III – over a hundred of them, ranging from a four-centimetre-thick folder of official certification from the state maritime office down to single invoices.

  Chaing read through them stoically. His eye m
ust have been playing up again, because he was having to squint at a lot of the pages.

  ‘Food,’ Jenifa said, in a confident tone.

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘They’re taking too much.’ She patted a pile of files. ‘Crew of fourteen, right? The amount they’ve ordered for this voyage will last them a couple of years.’

  Chaing stopped trying to read a PSR file on Dransol, the Gothora III’s engineering chief. ‘How far can they travel in that time?’

  ‘Anywhere,’ she replied simply. ‘They normally have enough supplies on board for about a month’s sailing, and then top up at each port. Sometimes they go as far west as Varlan, though it’s rare. Eastwards, they don’t go beyond Caraltown. They’re strictly south coast.’

  ‘So someone’s going to join them, that’s why they need more food. Where in Uracus are they planning on going?’

  ‘And why?’

  ‘Hey, where was the Gothora when we were on Hawley Docks?’

  ‘Already thought of that,’ she said with a smirk. ‘They had just left Prawle, so no, they didn’t ferry the Warrior Angel out of Opole. Still, we need to put another watcher team together, see when Florian goes on board.’

  ‘We can’t do it,’ he said reluctantly. ‘It was tough enough for Fajie to get five officers out of the building without Director Husnan realizing. If we mount another observation, the PSR office will find out. That’ll tip off the Eliters. Possibly even the Fallers. Then we’ll never know.’

  ‘Get a Section Seven team down from Varlan.’

  ‘I can ask, but Gothora III is due to leave at the end of the week.’

  ‘Stonal will fly them in. This is important.’

  ‘Right.’ He looked over at her, but she was already busy with more paperwork. She was in a strange mood, which piqued his interest. Admittedly, she had stranger moods, but the last couple of days had seen her wired even tighter than usual. ‘We do need to check out the ship.’

  Now she gave him her full attention. ‘You’re talking about me checking it out, aren’t you?’

  ‘I can’t go, and you’re fully trained to infiltrate.’

  ‘Active infiltration has a minimum of three in the lead agent’s backup team.’

  ‘For nest infiltration, yes. This is the Warrior Angel. She’ll get cross, but she won’t eat you.’

  ‘Big comfort.’

  ‘I’ll set up a sniper rifle on the lighthouse, give you covering fire if it goes hot.’

  ‘You?’

  ‘I got my marksman grade. Don’t worry, I can do this.’

  ‘Is your eye better? You still use drops every night.’

  ‘I have two eyes, and both are just fine. We just have to work on giving you a plausible cover story.’

  ‘Crud.’ She picked up an invoice and waved it at him. ‘There’s another stores delivery scheduled for this afternoon.’

  ‘Good idea. You’re too small for a stevedore, but I suppose you could pass as a supply company employee.’

  The look she gave him was toxic.

  *

  The Decroux Cafe was halfway along the glass-roofed Maidstone Arcade, where Port Chana’s more elegant and pricey shops were congregated. It was a long room with tiled walls and a single row of tables partitioned off from each other by tall wood panelling. Chaing ordered a hot chocolate from the counter at the front, then walked past the tables carrying a leather case which contained the sniper rifle. Jenifa was due to launch her infiltration attempt in another forty minutes.

  Captain Fajie was sitting at the third table from the end, sipping a peppermint tea in a glass cup. Chaing eased himself in opposite her.

  ‘We found their base,’ Fajie said in a low troubled tone. ‘Number forty-six Larek Street.’

  ‘Good work.’

  ‘It wasn’t too difficult; we just followed the Faller from warehouse five.’ Fajie slid a folder across the table. ‘Photos of the ones we’ve identified. I didn’t realize—’ She broke off as the waiter delivered Chaing’s hot chocolate.

  Chaing smiled up at the lad and tipped him. ‘Realize what?’ he asked mildly, stirring the pink and green marshmallows into the foam.

  ‘There’s at least nine of them at that house. Nine! And that’s just from one night’s observation. How could we have missed them? And what’s on that ship, Gothora III, the one the nest’s watching from the warehouse? Is it bringing more Fallers? Or their food?’

  ‘Listen to me carefully. You are not to show any interest in the Gothora III. Understand? Don’t send any of your team to look it over, don’t request paperwork. Nothing.’

  Fajie leaned across the table, lowering her voice. ‘It’s the Warrior Angel, isn’t it? You’ve found her.’

  ‘Drop it.’

  ‘Okay, Comrade, but I think I deserve a little appreciation for the help I’ve been giving you. When you go on board, I want to be part of your team.’

  Chaing nodded as if he was actually considering it. ‘If and when, I’ll take you with me.’

  ‘That’s all I’m asking, Comrade.’ She sat up again, and gave him a nod. ‘I’ll get back to my people. We can’t keep track of all of them, you know. Only two at the most.’

  ‘I know. Do the best you can.’

  ‘How much longer? Husnan will start asking questions soon.’

  ‘Couple of days, probably. No more than three.’

  ‘All right.’ She got up and left.

  Chaing sat there finishing his hot chocolate. It was a five-minute taxi ride to the harbour. Twenty minutes from there to the top of the lighthouse. He’d be properly established by the time Jenifa arrived with the marine supply company. He opened the folder and looked at the first black and white photo.

  A girl slid onto the bench seat opposite, carrying a tall glass of iced peach tea. One of Port Chana’s ditzy youths, wearing a long cobalt-blue skirt and a sleeveless white blouse, several buttons open at the front to show off a lot of cleavage – which was all Chaing focused on for a couple of seconds. Then he looked up. Her long red hair was woven through with small purple flowers. A lot of kids were following that style – boys and girls. They all listened to that modern electric band music rubbish, too. ‘Don’t sit there—’ He stopped. The floral hair arrangement had fooled him for a moment.

  ‘What kind of welcome is that, captain?’ the Warrior Angel asked with a taunting smile.

  ‘You!’

  ‘Were you expecting someone else? A fellow officer, perhaps?’

  He desperately wanted to know if she’d overheard him and Fajie. ‘Why are you here?’

  ‘Because we need to talk.’

  ‘Where’s the girl, Essie?’

  ‘She’s called Paula.’ The Warrior Angel took a sip of her peach tea. ‘And she’s doing everything she can to help this world.’

  ‘You mean cause chaos.’

  ‘Don’t be so childish,’ the Warrior Angel snapped. ‘We’re long past point scoring.’

  Chaing was abruptly intimidated by just how much antagonism was being directed at him; that pretty, youthful face was the flimsiest facade for the ancient personality it contained. ‘Sorry,’ he mumbled. ‘But you have to tell me what’s happening.’

  ‘We both know the Fallers are about to begin their apocalypse. Paula and I are going to do what we can to stop them, but it might not be enough.’

  ‘Crudding Uracus.’ He knew his anger was just a cover for fear. Having her confirm the apocalypse was close was something he didn’t want to hear.

  ‘Grow a pair,’ she said. ‘Worst-case scenario, if they are going to win, Paula can open the wormhole.’

  ‘What wormhole?’

  ‘The wormhole under the palace; the one Laura Brandt used to reach Ursell. It’s still fully operational.’

  ‘It is?’ He wanted to know how she knew that. There’d never been so much as a hint in any PSR office he’d ever been assigned to.

  ‘Yes. Laura codelocked it, but Paula can probably open it. We can evacuate a group of children.
’

  ‘To Byarn?’ That he did know about.

  ‘No. Byarn is a cruddy alternative. If your dumbarse Operation Reclaim nukes Lamaran enough to wipe out the Fallers, it will poison all of Bienvenido. You’ll turn this planet into another Macule.’

  ‘Where, then, can we go?’

  ‘Aqueous.’

  ‘You’re crudding kidding me!’ he exclaimed.

  ‘I wish I was. It’s not like we’ve got much choice; it’s the only planet left capable of supporting human life. So that’s the deal. We save a core group of human children – both normal and Eliter – and a few of you government people.’

  ‘I’ll think about it.’

  ‘No, you won’t. You’ll call Stonal and tell him. People in authority will make the decision.’

  He glared at her. ‘You could walk into the palace if you wanted to. I know that; I’ve seen what you can do.’

  ‘Yes, I can do that. But it would be easier with your cooperation. And we’re going to be busy defending Bienvenido.’

  He nodded, knowing he had no choice. In fact, he almost played his full hand. It would be so easy to say: did you know the Fallers are watching Gothora III? Gain her trust, maybe even her sympathy – enough sympathy to be included in the evacuation. But he just couldn’t bring himself to do that. He was PSR. And that had to mean something, even now. Besides, if the Gothora III was alerted they might spot Jenifa. ‘All right. I’ll call Stonal.’ How strange; this is what Stonal wanted, too.

  ‘Good. I need someone who’ll actually listen.’

  ‘How are you going to defend us?’

  ‘As best I can.’ That enchanting girly smile returned. ‘How’s the leg? I can detect the metal pins they put in. Must be painful. Would you like me to cure it?’

  Oh crud, yes, yes, yes. ‘I’m fine, thank you.’

  ‘That’s my captain,’ she chuckled. ‘Stupidly stubborn to the end. So here’s my parting gift: don’t trust the people you think you can trust.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘It means: watch your back.’

  ‘I don’t trust you.’

  She got up and winked. ‘Yes, but you never have.’

  ‘If Stonal has an answer, how do I get in touch?’

  ‘Give me your hand.’