The Temporal Void v-2

by Peter Hamilton

  'Really? I always get fearfully bored after just one day at the lodge. What did you do all that time? She gave Edeard a wide-eyed look of innocent interest. It didn't fool him for a second.

  Julan cleared his throat. 'Shall we go and inspect the tenth floor now.

  The staff and ge-monkeys had been extremely busy since the wedding. Kristabel's agonized rearrangement of the family had been implemented, with everyone shifting apartments and floors. In the end, fourteen sets of relatives had moved out. More than originally intended, but there were a lot of new marriages planned amid the relatives occupying the fifth and seventh floors, which would create another accommodation shortage over the next couple of years. Some of the third floor families decided not to wait. Julan had offered to build them new manor houses on lands the Culverits owned beyond the Iguru.

  In all honesty, Edeard didn't see a lot of change to the furniture and fittings on the tenth floor. The big lounges and reception rooms were the same as before with all the family's artwork and antiques in the same positions they'd occupied for centuries. He and Kristabel would take over the Master's suite from Julan, which had been decluttered — he made no comment on the standard Makkathran bed and bathing pool, they could be reshaped easily enough. His few possessions from the maisonette were standing forlornly in one of the empty studies. When he looked at the small pile of boxes in comparison to everything the Culverits had accumulated over two millennia he began to feel intimidated by the family again.

  'You'll soon make it your own, Julan said comfortingly as he caught sight of Edeard's expression.

  'Yes, sir.

  'I got Uncle Dagnal's old chambers, Mirnatha said joyfully. 'And Daddy said I could have new furniture and curtains and everything.

  'Within reason, Julan said hurriedly.

  'Come and show us then, Kristabel said, holding out a hand.

  Edeard followed the sisters out of the Master's suite, taking one last look at the main octagonal bedroom with its huge circular bed. The room was bare apart from a fluffy brown carpet, some plain wardrobes and chests; the dressing room next door contained all of Kristabel's clothes. He couldn't help but compare its simplicity to the way Kristabel had decorated her bachelorette room just down the hall.

  Perhaps she'll allow me some say in how we make our bed room look. I could offer to craft her a shower, and a proper toilet, make the light white. The idea of spending the next two hundred years sleeping in anything as fluffy as she'd created before was unnerving.

  They spent the afternoon with the tenth floor's housekeeper discussing further changes. Several Master carpenters were summoned to prepare drawings of the furniture Kristabel wanted to commission. Edeard was relieved when she toned down the drapes and fittings for their bedroom, and finally found the courage to volunteer his own alterations. The craftsmen tried not to be too obvious listening when he explained how the shower could go anywhere, and be any size. In fact altering the whole layout of the tenth floor would be a simple matter for him if she was just prepared to wait while the walls adjusted themselves. Kristabel sent everyone away when he started explaining that.

  'I'd never thought of altering things on that scale, she admitted. 'Nothing ever changes in Makkathran.

  'It can now. He looked round the big lounge they were in. 'In fact, how about some more windows in this place? Let some light in?

  'What about the main stairs? she asked excitedly. 'Can you change them? The ones in Kanseen's new mansion are actually usable.

  'I thought you'd never ask.

  Julan and Mirnatha were noticeably absent from supper on the tenth floor hortus that evening, making a big show of saying how much they wanted to eat with the ninth floor families.

  'It'll never last, Kristabel said as they sipped some sparkling white wine under a big white gauze awning. Long candles had been lit among the pots of orchids and troughs full of huge evening glories. With the orange lights of the city starting to twinkle amid the twilight and lengthening shadows Edeard couldn't imagine a more romantic setting. Neither, it seemed, could a lot of Makkathran's citizens; they both had to cast a seclusion haze to ward off curious farsights.

  'But we can make the most of it for a couple more days, he said. It was almost a plea.

  'You have to go hack to Jeavons station tomorrow. You're its captain, after all. And Finitan will want to talk to you, and Macsen is going to have a dozen problems.

  'I know. They've been very polite not calling us today.

  'I did longtalk Kanseen earlier. She says the mansion's almost complete, as far as she can tell. She wants you to confirm it's finished growing so she can start ordering fittings and fabrics for it.

  'Okay, he said reluctantly. 'I'll check tomorrow.

  Her hand came down on top of his. 'We still have tonight.

  'And every night.

  'You know what I mean. Tomorrow our new lives really begin.

  'I know.

  'But that's hours yet.

  * * * * *

  When Edeard walked into the Jeavons station first thing the next morning, he found Dinlay had coped admirably during his absence. He was almost peeved at that, but you couldn't argue with paperwork, and Dinlay had been quite meticulous about recording everything. Glancing at the new charts hanging up in his office, Edeard saw that patrols had gone out on time, duty rosters were made up, monies allocated and spent, timetables established. Arrests had been made, but these days the constables tended to issue cautions to any miscreants they found. It was often enough. Only the most committed recidivists were hauled up in front of the judges now. Probationer training was also going well. Even Marcol was expected to pass his exams in time for graduation next month.

  'Though it's touch and go, Dinlay admitted. 'There's a sweep if you want to put some money down.

  'I don't think that would be proper, Edeard said. It wasn't quite the comment he expected from Dinlay. But he couldn't find fault in any other way. 'So what else has been happening?

  'It's been quiet actually. In the city at least. We're still getting refugees arriving, which is causing a lot of talk about how the remaining empty buildings are being taken up. People were expecting their children to move into the available places.

  'Do we know how much spare housing there is? I mean, is this going to be a problem?

  'I expect the Guild of Clerks knows the true numbers.

  'I'm sure they do, they seem to know everything else.

  'And anyway, it's Finitan's problem, isn't it?

  'Yes. You're right. Edeard sat behind the desk he'd inherited from Ronark. Like the office, it was dark and functional. To be honest, a little bit drab and depressing for his taste. He looked round at the high, slightly-curved walls with their small oval windows. No wonder it was so gloomy, the city fabric was a grungy brown with strange vertical vermilion streaks, as if someone had spilt colouring dye down them a long time ago.

  Dinlay left to lead a squad on patrol. Edeard began reviewing the station logs. It was no good, the office just kept distracting him. He reached down to the city's thoughts, and made some suggestions for modification. Expanding the windows, changing the wall colours to a pleasant pale sky-blue; adapting the lighting rosettes to shine white. Much the same as he'd done to the tenth floor of the Culverit mansion this morning. Here the changes would be finished within a week, back home it would take longer. Kristabel was still toying with the idea of changing the entire layout.

  Even after he'd kicked off the office changes, the logs didn't interest him. He let his farsight reach out to the Orchard Palace.

  'I wondered how long it would take you, Finitan said.

  * * * * *

  The oval sanctum hadn't changed. Edeard had expected Finitan to stamp his mark immediately, but the week after the election Finitan had remarked that he had more important things to worry about than the furniture. So the huge desk was still there in the middle, its dark veneer glossed to a mirror shine. The high velvet padded chair behind it was Owain's relic, to. But Edea
rd did recognize the silver cups that the ge-chimps poured his tea into. And Owain hadn't used genistars in here.

  Finitan had brought the genistar egg cradle from his office in the Blue Tower. But it sat on his desk empty.

  Topar took a seat next to Edeard, refusing a cup of tea.

  'Well, Finitan started. 'We managed to survive an entire twenty days without you.

  'Yes, sir, Edeard said.

  'The city isn't really a problem any more. People seem to have accepted my term without too much resistance.

  'They certainly have. Kristabel is complaining about how long the furniture she commissioned will take to build. The craftsmen are run off their feet right now. It's the same all across Makkathran. People are spending their money again. They have confidence in you, sir.

  'My apologies to your wife. Finitan put his cup down, and gave Edeard an uncomfortable stare. 'Unfortunately, the city's current bout of good fortune isn't being repeated beyond the Iguru Plain.

  Edeard gave a short nod. 'I know.

  Topar cast out a strong seclusion haze. 'I've been sending scouts out into the provinces, he said. 'Good men: ex-constables, sheriffs, even a few reserve officers from the militia. People who know how to look after themselves, people I can rely on.

  'We wanted to build up a picture of these damn raids, Finitan said. 'See if there was a pattern behind them, a purpose.

  'That's where it gets strange, Topar said. 'If they're trying to soften us up for an invasion, they're going about it in a very odd way. There have been no bandit raids at all in the Rulan province since midsummer; in fact the west seems clear of all disturbances. They've moved steadily east through the three largest mountain ranges, causing a lot of damage, and setting light to a wildfire of fear and rumour. In fact, that's our worse enemy right now. Any dispute that results in violence is attributed to bandit raids, from landowners fighting with poachers to a tavern brawl, so bad is their reputation. It's hard to determine what's real and what isn't. The provincial governors aren't reliable at the best of times, now any trifling squabble is seen as an excuse to petition Makkathran for militia support.

  'It doesn't help that Owain sent the regiments out so willingly before, Topar said. 'Expectations of support were set too high.

  'He's left you a real mess, Edeard said.

  'Yes. That's politics, and to be expected. But we took a very good look at the information we can confirm. It's a worrying result.

  'In what way?

  'Basically, we've established there are six main packs of bandits, Topar said. 'Two are heading along the Ulfsen Mountains. One is using the Komansa range for cover. Two started out in the Gorgian Mountains, though one of those is now heading north east along the Yorarns. And the last is plaguing the Sastairs all the way down to the southern coastal provinces.

  Edeard closed his eyes, trying to picture what he'd just been told on a map of the known lands. 'They're stretched quite thin, then.

  'I prefer the term "widespread", Topar said. 'We're a basically peaceful society, and their physical impact is minimal given the size of the areas concerned, but the disturbance and worry they cause is near universal.

  'So what are they doing?

  'One last thing. Finitan pulled a piece of paper across the desk, and started to read. 'In Plax province there were raids on Payerne, Orastrul, Oki, Bihac, and Tikrit. All villages or small towns. The manor houses and their lands at Stonyford, Turndich, Uxmal, Saltmarch, Klongsop, Ettrick, and Castlebay have also suffered extensive damage during the last two months. He gave Edeard an expectant look. 'Anything ring a bell?

  'I've heard of the Uxmal manor, the Culverits own it. I think it's a big parkland holding, they raise sheep there. He had a nasty feeling one of the families from the third floor had gone there to make their new home.

  'Indeed. Every one of those estates belongs to an ally of mine,

  Finitan said. 'Allies and supporters also have considerable assets in or around the targeted villages.

  Edeard felt cold. 'How could bandits know that?

  'Somebody told them, Topar said. 'Someone who has conducted a comprehensive search through the official Treasury registry.

  'It took us a while to work it out, Finitan said. 'Everyone I met at a party or dinner was complaining about their losses. I heard nothing else. I thought the invasion had already begun until I realized my allies were being singled out.

  'Lady!

  'Which brings us back to the question of who are they and what are they doing?

  'They must have collaborators in the city, a shocked Edeard said.

  'At the very least, Topar said. He exchanged a worried glance with Finitan. 'There's also the question of the guns. If there isn't another city equal to us…

  'No, Edeard said. 'The weapons Guild… They had the long-barrel pistols all this time. But whoever supplied the bandits with repeat-fire guns killed Ashwell.

  'Too early to make that accusation, Topar said abruptly. 'And we have no proof whatsoever.

  'This is why we asked you in, Finitan said. 'I know a lot of your power comes from whatever relationship you have with the city itself, but you still have the strongest psychic ability I have ever known.

  'A week ago a report came in of a raid on Northford, Topar said. 'That's a village in the Donsori Mountains, Edeard, just four days ride from Makkathran for the Lady's sake. Rapid-fire guns were used. We know that for a fact. One of the Ulfsen mountain groups must have pushed eastwards in the last month.

  'If we can capture one of them alive, Finitan said, 'We might just be able to find out what exactly is going on, who those collaborators are.

  'I'm going to take a small group of the best people I know and trust, Topar said. 'We'll have ge-eagles and ge-wolves, and the best pistols available. Even so, I could do with some help.

  'Oh Lady, Edeard put his cold tea cup back on the desk. 'When do we leave?

  * * * * *

  Despite all he'd been through in Makkathran, the city had made him soft, Edeard acknowledged on the second day. An easy life was an easy trap to fall into. Life on the road was a sharp reminder of the way he used to live. Making camp each night. Looking after the genistars himself rather than asking a servant. Collecting wood to make a fire. Cooking his own food. Sleeping under a blanket and an oilskin beneath the nebula-swathed sky. That was cold enough. Then after the third day they didn't even have a fire for fear the bandit crew would notice it, and they were high in the Donsori Mountains by then.

  But at that he did better than Dinlay and Macsen. They were real city boys. So he alleviated his own discomfort by enjoying theirs.

  Their third night out from North Gate they camped on the side of Mount Iyo, half a day's ride from the main road through the mountains. There was still a lot of traffic on the road, with caravans and wagons and carriages rattling along the broad paved slabs that switchbacked along the rugged slopes. But all of them were accompanied by packs of ge-wolves. The wealthier travellers had their own guards as well. There were also daily patrols of local militia squads. Edeard's own party went under the guise of trading Guildsmen, a common enough sight on the roads. As well as himself and Topar, they had Boloton, an ex-sheriff from Oki who had spent over half of his seventy years roaming across the countryside. The second of Topar's companions was Fresage, a huge man whose bulk was mostly muscle; another outdoors type who had seen membership in a southern provincial militia as well as serving ten years as a costal warden. In turn, he was good friends with Verini, born to a caravan family, who was taking a decade long break from the eternal trade routes to scout round new markets and learn the roads in different territories. Then there was Larby, who had the manners of a Grand Family son yet was clearly comfortable with road life, and proficient with a pistol. He said little about his background, but Edeard suspected he had been affiliated to the families in a fashion not too dissimilar to Argian.

  That just left Dinlay and Macsen to complete their number. By the end of the first day, saddle-sore himself, Edea
rd was beginning to think he shouldn't have asked them along. Macsen had proved particularly difficult to convince, he was naturally concerned for Kanseen, who was due in just a few weeks. However, they stuck it out and learned from the others quickly enough. That they'd adapt was never Edeard's concern. His main worry was that the three of them would be absent from Makkathran at the same time. Such a thing would be noticeable to a suspicious mind. If there was someone in the senior ranks of government collaborating with the bandits they might raise a warning — even though they'd never know exactly what to warn against. And it would be difficult getting word out here ahead of Topar's group.

  As their party progressed, their main source of information was fellow travellers. They didn't even have to ask difficult questions; those who used the road frequently were unrivalled gossips. Rumour of a bandit crew was strong. There had been another raid after Northford, at a hamlet called Regentfleet. Five families dead and the buildings torched. The local governor was demanding assistance from Makkathran's militia regiments to catch the bandits. Regentfleet was uncomfortably close to Sand-market, the provincial capital.

  'They're heading south, then, Topar said when they first heard the news of Regentfleet. Which is why they eventually left the main road to strike out across the high terrain by themselves. It was hard going, even for the stoic ge-horses, a type which blended traits of high endurance with speed; not as fast as terrestrial horses, they still had the stamina to keep a fair pace going even on the rocky slopes away from the road.

  Topar led them along the edge of the woodlands which dominated the middle slopes. Thick forests of tall spindly kalkand trees whose feathery blue-gold fronds spent the winter months curled up in tight whorls.

  They made camp that third day under overhanging branches which dripped an unpleasant waxy sap from their newly budded scarlet sporecones. A small stream trickled along one side, allowing the horses and ge-wolves to drink. That night they sent their ge-eagles roving around the peaks and swooping through the valleys. The big birds had a trait Edeard had never known of before, a near-perfect night-sight. There were no colours to the vision he received from them, the world they flew over was drawn in shades of grey, but still the features were sharp and true. Edeard could see small creatures scuttling along oblivious to the birds gliding silently overhead.