'I do understand,' he said, so very reluctantly. 'But they've shut down all the capsule traffic. Half of mes are stuck all across town.'
Araminta started to pull her clothes on. There was a whole closet in the bathroom which was hers, so at least she could dress practically with dark jeans and a blue sweater. 'My trike pod is in the garage. I left it here a couple of weeks back.' Her u-shadow was hurriedly checking travel restrictions in Colwyn City. The traffic management net carried a full proscription on non-official air vehicles, backed by the certificate of the Mayor's office and the Viotia Federal Transport Agency. However, ground vehicles were still permitted to operate in the city precincts, with an advisory caution that citizens should only use them for essential trips. There were a great many links to official Viotia government bulletins about their inclusion in the Free Trade Zone at core planet level, and how after a brief transition period everything would return to normal and a strong economic growth phase would begin, bringing a major upswing to everyone's lifestyle. Just for an instant she recalled Liken and his grand plans for the Free Trade Zone, but she dismissed those thoughts at once.
'Let some of mes go,' Mr Bovey said. 'I can check the place over for you.'
'I am not going to start our life together by being dependent on you,' she said, hating herself now.
He looked even more unhappy. 'All right. Ozzie, but you're obdurate.'
'Think of it as tenacious, and how that works in your favour in bed.'
'Ozzie help the paramilitaries if they get in your way.' But his sympathetic smile wasn't exactly wholehearted. 'I don't suppose one of mes can come with you?'
'Have you got a ground vehicle?' she asked.
'No.'
'You're really sweet. Still want to marry me?'
'Yes.'
'Even when there's going to be many mes?'
'Just take care.'
There was a whole team of hims assembled to wave goodbye to her when she clambered on to the trike pod. She was mildly surprised to find the power cell still had half a charge left. All his familiar faces wore the same mournful expression as she waved airily. Then she set off down the narrow gravel track which cut through the grounds to the road outside. There was a point when she'd just passed the last of hims when she thought her resolution might buckle and send her rushing back, confessing everything. It was coupled with a horror that she'd never see him again, that no matter her determination this was all too big for her to cope with.
If that's so, then I can't drag him down into it.
So she kept the trike steady and true, riding across the garden that retained its light coating of glistening moisture from last night's rain. The old iron gate at the end of the track creaked as its actuators swung it open for her. Then she was out on the empty road lined with tall lackfol trees whose reddish-green loaves were chittering in the gentle breeze that stirred under the city's force field dome.
The worst part of the trip was riding over the big single-arch bridge to the northern bank. She felt horribly exposed to the big capsules that slid through the air on either side of the bridge. It was so strange seeing the city without its normal capsule traffic zipping about, as if the metropolis was injured somehow. People on the bridge seemed to share the feeling. Many citizens had decided to walk to work, showing their defiance through an obstinate insistence on pursuing their normal day as best they could. Public cabs still hummed along the central rails, packed tight with commuters. And she'd never known so many people actually had trike pods; a great many of them clearly hadn't been outside their garages for years.
As she cleared the apex of the long bridge, Araminta allowed herself to dip into the local gaiafield, receiving the strident emotions of her fellow residents, the determination and anger they radiated and supported each other with. It was a buoyant kinship; though she didn't dare allow any of her own feelings to trickle out. She was all too conscious of people like Danal delving into the confluence nests, trying to locate any hint of her thoughts, her location, her identity. And how was that for irony, one of her hunters buying an apartment from her, actually living next door to his prey, neither of them knowing. She wondered if he'd be able to scent the guilt on her.
Ahead of her she could see three capsules hovering over the far end of the bridge. Dozens of the suited paramilitaries were clustered there, examining everyone coming over. She almost turned around there and then, but that would draw attention to her. And they'd be watching the whole bridge for such a reaction, she was sure of that. So she pressed on, wondering what that ancestor Mellanie would do: she who'd bequeathed so much trouble into Araminta's easy life. Was she some kind of tough government agent, a War hero; why was she a Silfen friend? Araminta promised herself that when she got back to the apartments the first thing she'd do was look up the woman whose fault this all was.
The paramilitaries were simply standing waiting in intimidating ranks, holding long rifles across their chests as everyone from the bridge walked or drove past them. The Unisphere nodes at the end of the bridge were querying u-shadows. Araminta sent her identity certificate, looking nervously at the bulky figures, wondering what their faces looked like. They were sharing nothing with the gaiafield, which was strange for anyone affiliated with Living Dream must surely have gaiamotes. Were they nervous? They must know an entire planet hated them.
Whatever smartcore the Living Dream forces were using to try and identify the Second Dreamer didn't seem unduly interested in Araminta. None of the paramilitaries showed any interest in her as the trike trundled past them. Just on the other side, a group of local youths was gathering. Shouts echoed through the damp air, directed at the paramilitaries. Several marques of construction site bot waddled and rolled towards the dark ranks, waving power tools threateningly and leaking miscreant programs that blocked and distorted the cybersphere nodes.
By the time she was a hundred metres along Gathano Avenue past the bridge, the paramilitary squad commander finally took action against the taunts and belligerent bots. The shouting increased in volume and anger, interspaced with the unpleasant high-pitched humm of energy weapons directed at the bots. Araminta increased her speed as a pair of capsules swept overhead to reinforce their colleagues. The last thing she could afford now was to be taken into custody.
By the time she reached her apartments in the Bodant district forty minutes later the number of people milling round in the park outside was disturbing. She knew she was being prejudiced, but most of them looked like the kind of gang members which the Unisphere news always claimed had a stranglehold on the neighbouring Helie district. When she allowed their gaiafield emissions to register, she found an atmosphere of dark resentment swirling across the park, more frightening than the anger of the commuters. There was purpose here. Violence wasn't far away.
She steered the trike down into the underground garage, thankful for the dual gate security; then took the lift up. When the doors opened on the fourth floor Araminta prayed that Danal and Mareble were either out or wouldn't hear her crossing the vestibule - how good had she made the sound proofing? The Living Dream followers had only moved in two days ago, declaring they could no longer wait until the official completion date, which left her with a load of work to finish for them before the full price was deposited in her account. Not today!
The door of the apartment she was using closed behind her and she pressed her back up against it, as if reinforcing the charming old-fashioned brass lock. Breath hissed out of her in a sorrowful gasp, and she slowly slid down onto the parquet floor.
I can just stay here. I don't need to go out. I can get nutrient fluid for the culinary unit pumped in. I can work on getting the last two apartments finished. By the time that's done all this will have blown over.
Except for the Void expansion phase. But the Raiel will fight that, that's what the Unisphere shows say.
It was a pitiful delusion, she knew.
Maybe thirty minutes later Cressida called. Just seeing her icon appear cheered Araminta
up no end. If anyone knew what to do it would be Cressida. And maybe, just maybe, she could tell her cousin about being the Second Dreamer.
'Darling, how are you? Where are you?'
'I'm okay, thanks, I'm at the apartments.'
'Oh. I thought you were with Mr Bovey.'
'I was. I came home this morning.'
'You crossed the city yourself?'
'Yes. It wasn't any trouble. I used my trike pod.'
'Dear Ozzie, that was stupid, darling. You're not to do anything like that again, do you understand. I mean it. Life is about to get very ugly here. I've been talking with my contacts in City Hall and the state government house. These Living Dream bastards are not going to go home. Viotia has been royally screwed by our crap-for-brains Prime Minister.'
'Yes. I know,' she said weakly.
'And the worst place for anyone to be right now is Colwyn City. They think that dickhead the Second Dreamer is living here. And there's no way he'll escape. They've broken just about every single article of the Commonwealth constitution by invading us, they're not going to stop now. Do you know who've they've sent to oversee the search?'
'No.'
'Well don't tell anyone, but Cleric Phelim himself has come through the wormhole to take charge.'
'Who's that?'
'Oh, darling, keep up! He's Ethan's chief of staff, the enforcer himself. A greater turd you will not meet, and I include your old chum Likan in that list.'
'Oh, great Ozzie,' Araminta drew her knees up to her chin and hugged her legs tight.
'Sorry, darling, didn't mean to worry you excessively. We'll be all right, of course. Which is actually why I'm calling. There's a way out, if you're interested.'
'What way out? The weather dome is on, no one can get out.'
'Ha, that just deters capsules. After all the damn thing is only there to protect us from clouds and wind, not ward off Ocisen Empire warships or the Void boundary. There's actually a big gap, well twenty metres anyway, between the lower edge of the dome and the ground to allow normal air flow. We'd all suffocate in a week without that.'
'So we can get through?'
'We can just walk out until they seal that up with their troops, yes. Even then there are various tunnels available if you know the right people. My u-shadow will send the files over for you. Anyway, the point is: some friends and I are chartering a starship. We're leaving completely, not just Colwyn but Viotia itself. There's a seat on it for you if you want, I'm holding it as part of our family's block booking.'
'Urn… but Mr Bovey?'
'Darling, you'd need five starships to get all of hims off. Be realistic. And be sensible. In times like this you have to think about your own arse.'
'But they're not letting anyone out of the city, let alone offplanet.'
'You leave that to us. Anybody who believes Living Dream is some kind of irresistible force has clearly forgotten about lawyers. We're chartering a foreign-owned starship with full diplomatic status. If Phelim tries restricting that he'll find himself staring down a Commonwealth Navy warship disruptor cannon. Let's see who blinks first then.'
'I see.'
'So are you in or out?'
'I… I don't know.'
'There's one thing, darling, which I'm going to have to bring up. It won't be cheap. Where do you stand on selling the apartments?'
'Oh. Not good. I still don't have deposits on the last two, and I haven't completed any of the others. Nobody's going to buy anything now.'
'Yes, that is a problem. You didn't find that offload sucker like I told you then? Never mind. You should never underestimate the market when it comes to making things happen for a profit. Give it a day and there'll be venture groups on half the External worlds offering Viotia citizens cash for their business and properties; it'll be way below yesterday's market rate, but they'll be thinking long term. Once Living Dream grabs the Second Dreamer things will start to stabilize. Give it twenty years and everything will be back to normal, and those properties will be five times the value.'
'If it's going to be normal again, why are you leaving?'
'Normal for a Free Trade Zone hagiocracy planet, darling. Which I have no intention of spending the rest of my lives on, thank you very much. I want a nice liberal market-based democracy with all the opportunities for misunderstanding and conflict that entails. Wherever there's an argument you'll find us lawyers offering to help. And help equals lots of money. On which subject; I've already transferred my cash accounts offworld.'
'Already?'
'Certainly, darling; the banks were keen to welcome me. And I wasn't exactly the first. There's enough money flying offplanet right now to leave our beloved Prime Minister a magnificent economic nightmare by lunchtime, never mind tomorrow. The only thing she has left to worry about is how painful her bodyloss is going to be when her previously loyal voters get their hands on her. So - do you want me to see if I can offload your apartments for you? I have some finance seeker semisentients I can assign the problem to.'
'Urn, yes. Yes, I suppose so.'
'Great, so I'll reserve that ticket for you.'
'Yes. Do that.' Araminta just said it without thinking. She didn't want to leave, but Cressida had to be placated somehow, and anything else might be suspicious. Ozzie, it didn't take me long to become a paranoid schemer, did it?
'Don't worry,' Cressida said. 'Ten days from now we'll be sipping cocktails on the pool terrace of La Cinal on Etinna. It'll be fun, a new beginning.'
The call ended, and Araminta stared at the semi-decorated open-plan living room in a mild daze. She couldn't believe that even Cressida could abandon her whole life with such casual ease. But then that was Cressida for you, thinking faster and smarter than anyone else. She'd probably run through the whole shock, anger, assessment, calculation, and action stages in the first hour; while Araminta was still firmly mired in the shock segment. Certainly she'd never thought what life on Viotia would be like after things settled down; and of course Cressida was right, they would be part of the Free Trade Zone for ever now. Unless the Senate and Navy intervened, or Viotia's residents organized a rebellion.
Or the Void devours us.
Whatever the future outcome, Cressida was right about one thing, Araminta couldn't just wait around hoping to avoid detection. She started to think what it must cost politically and economically to invade a planet. Cleric Conservator Ethan and his sidekick Phelim wouldn't do that and then just hope they'd stumble across the Second Dreamer. They'd have a plan. And it would be a good one.
Araminta forced herself to get to her feet. She didn't know what she was going to do, but doing nothing was not an option.
* * * *
It took two hours, and a stint in the ship's medical chamber, but Troblum eventually stopped shaking. When he emerged he could barely manage to cover the couple of metres from the chamber to his big chair. He sank into its padding, fearful he would start trembling again. The medical read out in his exovision showed him just how many drugs were coursing through his bloodstream right now, working in conjunction with his biononics to suppress his body's animal reactions. He had been terrified.
He was also rather surprised that he was still alive. All he could remember of the neutron laser shot was a dazzling flash, and a noise that was so great his bones had felt it rather than his ears. His biononics were still repairing his retinas and inner ears. How he staggered into the ship's airlock was some kind of miracle; the smartcore had to give him directions, telling him how to move every limb.
But he was alive, and almost intact. The smartcore had used sensors to follow the Cat's starship flying away from the villa, then vanishing. Her stealth systems were as good as his own if not better. He hadn't waited around to find out how good Paula's ship was, he'd simply stealthed up and dropped into hyperdrive. Now he was sitting in transdimensional suspension ten lightyears out from Sholapur.
'You were lucky,' Catriona Saleeb said.
'I know.' He glanced at the single item of hi
s collection to survive. Mellanie Rescorai's handheld array lay on the decking where he'd dropped it. The foxory casing was blackened round the edges, the outline of his hand clearly visible. He closed his eyes and turned his head, making sure he was looking up at the ceiling before he opened his eyelids again. All of it, gone. The entire collection. Destroyed by his own hand. Every unique significant piece. It was as if history itself had been weakened.
'You won't be again,' Trisha Halgarth said, twirling a strand of Catriona's hair round her index finger as she nestled up against her friend. 'I'm surprised the Cat didn't finish you off.'
'I'm not,' Catriona said. 'She's going to come after you, Troblum. She's going to catch you. And then you'll die. It'll probably take several years.'
'Shut up!' he yelled. 'Shut up. Support me.'
'Okay,' Catriona said, she cuddled Trisha. 'You're not safe as long as the Cat is around.'
'And Paula didn't kill her off,' Trisha said, sounding vaguely puzzled. 'So you've got two options left.'
'Two?' he queried.
'Go after her yourself, and finish the job.'
'No! That's not an option. Only Paula can do that. She's still the only one I trust. I can't believe ANA is so compromised. That's got to be down to flaws in the Unisphere which a Faction can manipulate.'
'Think on it,' Catriona said earnestly. 'The Cat is allied with the Accelerators, they gave her everything she wanted, ship, weapons, the lot; and somehow she knew where you'd be. You can't trust ANA, not any more. I certainly don't,' she added haughtily.
'It has to be the Unisphere,' he said, more to himself than the girls. 'They intercepted my message.'
'Which only makes your position worse,' Trisha said. 'That leaves option two. Run! Run far and run fast. We've got to make it to another galaxy. Mellanie's Redemption can do it. You'll be safe there.'
The Temporal Void (ARC) Page 6