The Temporal Void (ARC)

by Peter F. Hamilton

  'Thank you for coming,' the Cleric Conservator said genially. He was sitting behind the desk, the hood of his white robe pulled forward. Even with the loose folds of fabric concealing the side of his head, the semi-organic modules were visible adhering to his skin.

  Marius bowed respectfully. 'Thank you for seeing me, Conservator.'

  Ethan's hand fluttered in dismissal to the assistant Cleric.

  'I trust you are almost recovered,' Marius said as he stood in front of the desk. The air in his wake was tainted by wispy shadows from his shimmering black toga suit.

  'Almost,' Ethan smiled thinly. His hand rose to indicate the nodules. 'Only three remain, and my doctors tell me they will be removed before the end of the week. It is amazing how the human body's powers of recuperation can be bolstered by good news.'

  'Good news?'

  Ethan hesitated, wondering if the representative was trying to taunt him. 'A human has passed into the Void, with the help of the Second Dreamer.'

  'In an attempt to negotiate a rejection of your Pilgrimage.'

  'I doubt any ANA representative will comprehend the most basic tenet of the Void. It exists to embrace life, to elevate us to the highest pinnacle our poor spirits can aspire to.'

  'Indeed,' Marius said, with a deliberate irony.

  Ethan caught the implication, and smiled gracefully. 'With respect, I hardly consider you comparable to Justine Burnelli. From what I've seen, you remain firmly rooted in the physical aspects of the universe.'

  'I will accept that in the spirit I believe it was intended.'

  'Thank you,' Ethan sank back in his chair, eyeing the representative curiously. At the start of his campaign to become Conservator he had been cautious about accepting the man's help. Like every aspirant for high office in history, he had used his aide to make the first exploratory contacts. Phelim had returned animated by the possibilities available. Ethan had agreed to listen. Politically, the assistance Marius provided was subtle and invaluable, allowing Ethan to build alliances within the Council and among the Clerics of the Orchard Palace, propelling him to a position where he could put himself forward for election with a great deal of confidence. Included with that was the offer of ultradrives for the pilgrimage ships, a gift that would generate a near-certain success. All of this had been given freely because their 'objectives' were complementary. And in all that time, Marius had never hinted what his Faction's objective actually was. Ethan knew it wouldn't be long now; it would be interesting to see what the price could possibly be.

  'However, hasn't the Void itself demonstrated Justine's essential humanity by its response to her thoughts?' Marius asked the question as if it was some easily dismissed oddity.

  'One small dream,' Ethan said. 'A fast glimpse of her predicament. She certainly hasn't found the Heart, or even a Skylord. As her eagerness to reach that star shows, she is concerned only with the physical.'

  'Yet she demonstrated the mental abilities available to the Waterwalker.'

  'She hardly has his strength.'

  'She was only awake for a few days of the Void's timescale, and she appeared to be acclimatizing comfortably.'

  'This too serves to reinforce our doctrine. The Void will become our salvation. The Second Dreamer will lead us to our destiny as the Dreamer Inigo always intended.'

  'I think we both know it wasn't the Second Dreamer who provided this latest glimpse from within the Void.'

  'Yes,' Ethan conceded.

  'Does Living Dream know who received Justine's thoughts and vision?'

  'No.'

  Marius smiled; on his round face with its thin nose, the gesture was unpleasant. 'Yet another Dreamer, Conservator? They seem to be coming quite commonplace.'

  'Three Dreamers in two hundred and seventy years is hardly "commonplace". But I do consider it significant that two have appeared so close together at this particular time. Events are coming to a climax, in accordance with the Dreamer Inigo's vision.'

  'Of course. I am gladdened that the Second Dreamer has proved it is physically possible to enter the Void, it must be inspirational to your movement.'

  'It is.'

  'And I don't have to emphasise how important the Second Dreamer is to you. How close are you to acquiring him?'

  Ethan smiled back into that barely-human face with its steady green eyes and humourless thoughts. 'Her. Actually.'

  'Really?'

  'Yes. We believe we have identified a possible candidate. Given that the welcome team on Viotia now have her identity it is impossible for her to elude us for any significant time.'

  'Congratulations, Conservator. It must be gratifying having your goal so close to realization.'

  'It is.'

  'How are you progressing with construction of the Pilgrimage ships?'

  'Again we are blessed by good fortune. The construction is on schedule. Would you like me to arrange a tour for you?'

  'Time, alas, is tight. In more ways than one.'

  'What do you mean?'

  'This isn't yet common knowledge, but the Commonwealth Navy sent a River-class warship to intercept the Ocisen Empire fleet. They were supposed to disable the command ship and deliver a warning.'

  'Supposed to?'

  'The Navy ship was destroyed. It would appear the Ocisens are stronger than Admiral Kazimir expected.'

  'Sweet Lady.'

  'Unless they are stopped, they will be here before your ships are completed. There will be no Pilgrimage.'

  'The principal justification behind ANA was to give the Commonwealth an unassailable defence against alien aggression following the Starflyer War. It was supposed to ensure complete technological superiority.'

  'Don't be too upset. It was, after all, just one ship. A stronger navy force should be sufficient to deter the Ocisen fleet. Even we concur with that prognosis.'

  'But there are no guarantees.'

  'There never are in life.'

  'There are in the Void,' Ethan said reflectively. 'Unfortunately, we can't build the ships any faster.'

  'I know. We are all dependent on ANA.'

  'A wing and a prayer.'

  'Quite. On a happier note, now we are so close to success my sponsors have a request.'

  'Ah,' Ethan widened his smile. He almost relished this. Would it be a preposterous heretical demand, or some simple requirement that would trigger a political avalanche in the wake of the Pilgrimage's departure? Was he going to welcome the stipulation, or fight it to his dying breath?

  'We would like to send some observers with you.'

  'Observers? That implies they will remain aloof, which I sincerely doubt is possible within the Void.'

  'None the less, we would be grateful if you would take them with you.'

  'We welcome all those who would reach for the Void, whatever their initial reasons. How many?'

  'Two or three on each ship. We don't wish to burden you.'

  'I see.' Though in truth Ethan didn't. He knew this must be momentous to whatever Faction Marius represented, yet even he was surprised by how eminently reasonable the request was. 'I will make sure enough suspension chambers are reserved.'

  'They will not be travelling in suspension.'

  'Is there a reason for that?'

  'They don't wish to.'

  Ethan considered that, wondering if this was where he should make his stand. Of course, there was no reasonable argument he could put forward against it. Only instinct. 'Will they be antagonistic to our Pilgrimage in any way?'

  'Your pardon, but they care nothing for your doctrine. They are merely scientists who wish to study the Void.'

  'And if I refuse?'

  Marius adopted an amused tone. 'You are trying to determine how honourable I am, if I will be awkward.'

  'Will you?'

  'More than most I have facilitated your rise to your current position. The gift of the ultradrive engines is phenomenally generous even by Higher standards. And when you accepted this, you knew we would ask a small favour in return.'


  'I did. And you know I will allow your colleagues to travel with us, I'm just trying to understand the motivation behind this, how badly you want it.'

  'Very badly indeed. The Void is a magnificent scientific-enigma. My sponsors believe it should be solved.'

  'Why would you want to "solve" something you can become a part of at any time.'

  'It is greater than us.'

  'And it will share itself with you.'

  'On its terms. To accept that is not in our nature.'

  'It is in mine.'

  'Shall I move to the threat now?'

  'Please do,' Ethan said smoothly.

  'Even with ultradrive, the Raiel present a problem. Clearly this previously unknown warrior caste will not let you approach the Void boundary. Allowing a lone human in a small ship to slip past is one thing, but the Pilgrimage ships with their millions of hopeful dreamers? You will either turn back or die. The resources they have available are phenomenal; I suspect even a full Commonwealth Navy escort would struggle to protect you, and Governance has quite clearly stated it will do no such thing.

  'It is the last obstacle,' Ethan admitted. The one downside to Justine's triumph, and shocking in its magnitude. He'd always known the Raiel opposed Pilgrimage, but no one had known they had such ships, or the resolution to prevent entry into the Void. The Unisphere commentators had been very keen to point this out over the last few hours. Pilgrimage to Certain Death, the less savoury ones had named it.

  'In addition to the ultradrive, we can equip your ships with force fields which the Raiel cannot penetrate,' Marius said.

  'I find that claim difficult to believe.'

  'Nonetheless, we have such systems available.'

  'Your passengers.'

  'Yes.'

  'The Lady moves in mysterious ways. But… She would want your scientists granted the opportunity to achieve their destiny along with the rest of us.'

  Marius cocked his head to one side. 'I'm sure she would.'

  'I will have the cabins set aside for you.'

  'Thank you.' Marius bowed, and rotated effortlessly. He moved towards the door. Just as he reached it he stopped. 'Oh yes,' he said, still not facing Ethan. 'And we'll need a cargo hold in each ship for the equipment.'

  'Equipment?'

  'They will need instruments to study the Void, obviously. I will send details to your office.'

  The door opened, and Marius slipped through in a swirl of silent shadow.

  * * * *

  Balmy sea air gusted across Golden Park, stirring the long branches of the cherry trees that were planted along the side of the giant plaza. A cloudless sky helped magnify the heat. In his cotton shirt and thick denim trousers, the Delivery Man was getting uncomfortably warm; and he didn't want to use his biononic functions to cool down for fear of attracting attention to himself. Inigo had supposedly chosen this spot to build Makkathran2 because the climate was almost identical to the original on Querencia. So because of that quest for perfection, he had to make do with a ridiculous wide-brimmed leather ranger hat, because that's what the natives back in the real Makkathran apparently used to wear to keep the midsummer sun from frying their brains. At least it left him indistinguishable from the rest of the crowd occupying the plaza.

  Golden Park was lull every day now. The usual crowd had swollen considerably when the Second Dreamer rejected the Skylord as the faithful had sought guidance from their new Cleric Conservator; and from that day on they had flocked here to witness the monumental events elsewhere in the galaxy. The Delivery Man could appreciate that, feeling the kind of comfort that only ever came from being immersed in a multitude who shared beliefs and emotions. The most basic human need to belong, amplified by the gaiafield.

  On a very minor level he was experiencing that himself, the longing to be back home, playing with the girls as night fell across London. Bath time. Stories at bedtime. A leisurely meal with Lizzie.

  He didn't want to be here. It was that simple. This kind of observation was the kind of active operation the Faction had assured him he'd never be involved with. All he ever agreed to do for them was deliver essential items of equipment to the people who would use them. Inevitably, as the years progressed he'd allowed himself to be cajoled into assignments that entailed a great deal more than mere delivery. But this…

  Once again he was keeping tabs on Marius. He'd done it before without protesting, though Marius always gave him the creeps. Which wasn't the kind of emotional nonsense a Higher should be infected with. It was just that his opposite number was a lot more professional at all this than he was. Nor did the unfolding events help his equilibrium; Justine's flight into the Void, the destruction of the Yenisey, the Viotia invasion; he couldn't imagine what the end effect on Commonwealth society would be. He just knew his place was at home, caring for his family in the face of such uncertainty. Instead, here he was wandering about with the crowds, making sure he was oozing the same emotional wonder and trepidation into the gaiafield as everyone else, wearing medieval clothes - generally blending in. He could see the Outer Circle Canal through the throng, with several gondolas sailing along sedately, backdropped by the Orchard Palace with its roof that resembled merging waves.

  All the time he kept his eye on the wire and wood bridge which led over to the Palace's main entrance. It was the one Marius had walked over not an hour before. Remote sensors secreted around the canal watched the other bridges for him. Infiltrating systems inside the Palace itself was difficult. Living Dream employed some extremely sophisticated shielding and counter-intruder systems, though a number of stealthed micro-bots were currently inching their way inwards. Even if they managed to get past the great halls and into the Mayor's suite of chambers, they'd be too late.

  The Delivery Man's biononic field scan function detected a familiar biononic signature ten metres away. He let out a resigned sigh, and turned to see Marius standing waiting. He was getting a lot of disapproving stares as his dark toga suit refracted the bright sunlight in abnormal undulations. But his implacable demeanour was enough to keep them away.

  'Gotcha,' Marius said.

  The Delivery Man nodded. 'Yes. Congratulations.'

  'Fancy a drink?'

  'Why not?'

  Marius glide-walked his way across Golden Park, and over the ginger sandstone bridge into Ysidro. The Delivery Man narrowed his eyes as he took in the circular three-storey building with an improbable hexagonal rustication pattern on the walls. Tall lancet windows gave the appearance of some ancient human castle tower.

  'Isn't this the one where—' he began.

  'Yes,' Marius said.

  They went into the tavern, and managed to find a quiet table by one of the windows. A waitress took their order, and quickly returned with a hot orange chocolate with marshmallows for the Delivery Man and a peppermint tea for Marius. Once she'd gone, they wove their screening shields together, creating an almost invisible yet secure bubble around the table.

  The game is changing,' Marius said.

  'The game is the same, the stakes are rising,' The Delivery Man countered.

  'Fair enough. I don't like you because you symbolize what we're attempting to leave behind. But I respect you; you play by the rules. There are some people in our line of work who no longer do that.'

  'We didn't wreck Hanko.'

  'Hanko?'

  'Please! One of you fired a Hawking m-sink into it.'

  'Did we?'

  'Yes.'

  'Are you sure about that?'

  'Don't do that. Don't call me in for a drink and play the subversion recruiting routine. I chose my Faction because of my beliefs, just like you.'

  Marius raised his cup in salute. 'My apologies. My point is that you and I are both nearing the end of our usefulness to our respective Factions.'

  'No. If we hold things together you and I will continue in our current form. Only if you get to enact your particular Armageddon does everything alter.'

  'You don't have a clue what we're doing.'<
br />
  'Fusion is not a pretty concept. It assumes elevation to perpetual godhood. The conflict here at this table is enough to convince me that should not be allowed to happen; and we both know there are Factions a lot more radical than us.'

  'My apologies again. You have all the answers.'

  'Of course, you could choose to come over to us. That would undoubtedly mean the end of your Faction. Problem solved for everyone.'

  'I don't think so.'

  'I had to ask.'

  'I know.'

  The Delivery Man tried to sip his chocolate through the cap of semi-molten marshmallows. 'So now what?'

  'As I said, the game is changing. We are entering the last stages of an operation which has been centuries in the planning.

  As such, it is no longer a game. Please do not think we will tolerate any interference.'

  'The human race for all our facets and our institutional stupidity is something I believe in. I admire our diversity, our stubbornness. The dynamic of conflict is one of our greatest traits.'

  'Please don't give me the "we're at our greatest when our backs are against the wall" speech.'

  'I can't because you seem to want to eliminate our conflict, our differences, to rebuild us in your image. I will not allow that to happen. My Faction will not permit that.'

  'Which is my point. You no longer have that luxury of choice, it was taken from you decades ago when we succeeded. This, today, this is just the result of our actions.'

  'You cannot believe that morally you have the right to elevate everyone to post-physical status whether they want that or not.'