Infinite Eyes (Wanderers Book 3)

by James Murdo

  The technology for the current generation of traps was partly of Pelteus’ own design, refined through millions of years of hunting, and partly infused with some of the gifts imparted by the Machine Alliance. Not only were they lethal, but they were also smarter and undetectable to most Wanderers, and Wanderer-equivalents, now. The current craft-lect excluded, Pelteus believed them undetectable to its former civilisation. While the Wanderers undoubtedly included the Machine Alliance as a subset of their own civilisation, as a fringe viewpoint, Pelteus knew better. It was a separate power.

  When the Machine Alliance had first offered Pelteus the upgrades to its traps, the spear-lect had been alarmed. The alliance’s knowledge of its methodologies and practices was highly detailed, and it realised it had been far too overt in its business. Following the receipt of the upgrades, its anxiousness was quelled. It now had many advantages that were previously unattainable, and was welcome to go about the hunts as it desired. With respect to its current adversary, alongside Pelteus’ pre-laid traps and other technological advantages, it also had the element of surprise and a wealth of experience.

  29

  GIL

  One-oh and 998 were both quiet, in contemplation. The former bio-lect looked as though he was about to say something, before reconsidering. 998 emanated a low hum.

  [You want to go back, Gil.]

  “Yes… I think… whatever the boundary was, I might be able to push through. Perhaps that will wake them up?”

  [You believe the filaments you saw at the boundary are pure sensespace?]

  “I… I think so, yes. They’re like… they remind me of what I saw in my dreams and the sensespace visions. Only smaller.”

  [And they are deeply connected with the sentinels?]

  “Yes…”

  [Perhaps you risk awakening the sensespace itself, not the sentinels.]

  “No… no, I’m sure the sensespace was… active. The sentinels were connected… but the sensespace wasn’t in the sentinels, it was around them, using them to flow somewhere.”

  The craft-lect did not reply.

  “This is dangerous,” 998 said.

  “Yes,” One-oh said.

  “I know, but what else can we do?” Gil said. “I want to help. Isn’t this why I’m here?”

  The question was rhetorical, and no one answered. She felt certain the craft-lect wanted her to proceed. She had been scared, but curious. The sensespace had flowed around the boundary, but it was not a leak – the infection did not spray out as though it were trying to escape. Whatever was behind the barrier was keeping it there, and she wanted to know what that was.

  998 flashed. “What if–”

  [There are many reasons for and against, 998, but I trust you understand that none are clearly superior.]

  “Yes, but–”

  [It is Gil’s choice.]

  One-oh nodded slowly, in agreement.

  “Good,” she said, smiling apologetically at 998 before readying herself.

  *

  She glided forwards, noticing again – but ignoring – the small pricks of energy that twinkled in space between her and the sentinels.

  Coming up to the boundary, she watched with excitement. The filaments were still there, washing about the perimeter, between this place and somewhere else. Their entrancing rhythm threatened to captivate her again to the point where she lost track of time, and her purpose. Not the same as when the sensespace whispered or sung to her, this was different, she was observing it – and it did not seem to care. It was passive, perhaps even… beautiful.

  A bolt of anxiety coursed through her. She could not allow herself to think of the sensespace as anything other than evil, malignant. Wrong. It had caused the death of Tor, albeit indirectly, and was her enemy. Whatever the truth about the Deliverer was, she knew nothing good could come from the sensespace.

  She moved her presence closer to the boundary, just out of reach of the jumping sparks of sensespace as they flowed. Steeling her nerves, she concentrated on one point. Her diffuse presence similarly coalesced to its own single point. The filaments weaved around. It was now or never.

  She surged forwards, following the nearest filament that had just jumped out from the boundary. Everything became slower – the filament arced, and she raced after it. The distance between them was negligible, yet it seemed to expand into a vast gulf. She pushed on, gaining on the streak until…

  It was as though she had been repelled by something hard, jarring. Recoiling, she tried again, targeting exactly where the filament had disappeared. The same obstruction prevented her passage. Once more, and again, she was rebuffed. Desperately, she found another filament finishing its arc, and raced after it. The same thing happened.

  She would have continued, lost in determination and oblivious to anything else, were it not for suddenly becoming aware of the flurry of strange activity taking place peripherally between the central sentinel and the other two. What she identified as pure sensespace spewed out of the boundary sides of the central sentinel closest to each of the others, and simultaneously, she was able to discern the same reciprocally happening at the other two. The eruptions of sensespace did not meet, but it could not be a coincidence – an exchange of some type was occurring between them.

  A moment later, while she was still comprehending that the sentinels were interacting, the sensespace began to spurt out from all parts of the trio, in pulses. The whispers began to roar. Gil’s presence retreated. The spherical undulations did not reach far from the sentinels, although Gil sensed she was only observing the cusp of something many magnitudes more powerful.

  With a clarity she had not had before, she realised what was taking place, and what the flurry of activity represented. She had triggered an alarm, and they had responded. The three sentinels were awake.

  She fled, completely withdrawing from the sensespace, willing her body to respond faster than it was able. Her legs darting out to steady her body as she leaned forwards on the seat. Breathing heavily, she tried to push the words out as quickly as she could. Thankfully, now that she was not completely immersed in the sensespace, the whispers seemed to have receded to their normal levels.

  “It knows… they know. They’re awake.”

  30

  DEVOID

  The ship was still slowing down, and even more entities were appearing behind them. The entities also continued to elongate, fascinatingly, and some extended beyond the ability of DeVoid’s N-SOL sensors completely. That equated to lengths many hundreds of multiples of DeVoid’s own.

  Thankfully, the ship’s power levels had stabilised, concurrent with their slowdown. DeVoid suspected there was a relationship between the two – not necessarily causal, but a correlation at least. The power dissipated to N-SOL space was suspiciously proportional to the magnitude of their velocity. It had previously been assumed by the galactic community that the speed of any individual ship was fixed in N-SOL space, which was evidently not the case.

  The chaotic menagerie of clouds had also changed. It had dimmed, leaving a more consistent N-SOL space fabric – which was the limit of DeVoid’s understanding of what its N-SOL sensors reported. The N-SOL space matter was all nebulously categorised under the vague classification of N-SOL space for DeVoid. It did not have the faintest idea of what it was actually witnessing. Everything DeVoid was able to discern was projected through Tor’s chamber walls.

  The elongated N-SOL figures were all around. They represented the only sign of order, and followed DeVoid unwaveringly precisely as it continued to slow down. Additional figures joined, but none left. When they came, DeVoid detected them spear-heading directly for its location from the limit of its sensor range, before immediately halting in front of the ship.

  DeVoid decided that this was activity. Not life, necessarily, but activity. Something was there, enacting changes. There was too little information to be able to deduce what the activity actually was, and what was causing it.

  “DeVoid, they’re everywhere.”


  [Not quite everywhere, Tor.]

  “Almost everywhere!”

  [Do you have a suggestion?]

  “No…”

  [Okay then, because I’m still analysing them.]

  “You don’t know what they are, do you.”

  [No, not yet. Don’t you think I would have said?]

  “I was just… oh, fine then.”

  DeVoid continued its analysis of their slowdown, using the data it had about their speed from its prior detections of real space through the haze of N-SOL space. Now, its ability to detect its native real space was completely obscured, but it was certain it was onto something. Not only had their slowdown reduced the power dissipation to negligible levels, it had also been accompanied by many, many more of the N-SOL entities. All three were correlated. The density of entities behind the stern of the ship was associated with its deceleration. The additional entities around the ship had had no discernible impact on their velocity, as far as DeVoid could ascertain.

  [We’re slowing down significantly.]

  “Those things are doing it?”

  [It seems that way.]

  “How much?”

  [The density of them behind appeared to act as a proxy for our deceleration before, when real space was still apparent. So extrapolating from that, I’d estimate we’re currently moving at nearly ten percent of the speed of light.]

  “How much slower than before?”

  [Almost ten times.]

  “They’re trapping us?”

  [Maybe.]

  “What do you see?”

  [That’s an inadequate term for my sensory apparatus, but objections aside, the scape is changing.]

  “Do you think those things are alive?”

  [Perhaps.]

  “And intelligent? I mean… sentient?”

  [Could be, I don’t know.]

  “I don’t understand, I thought you said the ABs created N-SOL space?”

  [No, I said they gave the galactic community the ability to enter it, or manifest it, whatever is the correct terminology. They let us use it for fast travel. I don’t know whether they created it or not, seeing as I don’t know what it is.]

  “But these… things, they live here?”

  [If they’re alive in a sense that we understand, maybe they do. But that is an enormous leap of logic, Tor. We’ve got nothing, not yet. Next-to-zero information on them. They may as well be your fellow communers, come to wave you along on your journey.]

  “Maybe they aren’t whatever it was that told Thy–”

  [Always banging on about Thy! Could you stop that?]

  “I don’t! I … could they be ABs?”

  [I very much doubt that. If you remember, the Cross-Prophet mentioned AB space. That’s where they presumably spend their time, or spent it. Not wholly in real space, and certainly not in this N-SOL space.]

  “But… the Cross-Prophet said we would have help–”

  [He did.]

  “So, these things, the entities here… they must be here to help.”

  [You’re brilliant at logical deduction. Where were you when data-lects were created? Yes, possibly. However, let us hope this is not a trap, let us hope the Cross-Prophet was not mad or just playing with us, let us hope he understood what we…]

  *

  Tor looked about, confused. He had just realised something.

  “And… if we keep on slowing down?”

  [Come on, you know what happens when an object continues to slow down. You’ve learned–]

  “We’re going to stop?”

  [Well done!]

  “DeVoid, come on!”

  [Yes, it looks that way. We’re probably moving at a rate of just under five percent of the speed of light, so it’ll be soon.]

  “It’s so strange… out there.”

  [What you’re seeing is what I’m picking up via my N-SOL space equipment. Ripples in N-SOL space. With your own eyes, you’d see nothing.]

  “Surely I’d see something?”

  [No, N-SOL space doesn’t emit photons or anything you’d be able to detect.]

  “Oh… so I wouldn’t be able to see the tubes?”

  [Interesting.]

  “What?”

  [Tubes. That’s one of my theories too.]

  “What’s in them?”

  [Slow down. We don’t know what they are, yet. But, why not tubes? And there doesn’t have to be anything in them, Tor. Why not just tubes on their own? They do look like them, after all...]

  “But what? Living tubes?”

  [I have no idea, maybe they’re just instruments. Maybe they’re weapons. Maybe they’re not intelligent. Their shape doesn’t give anything away.]

  “Weapons?”

  [Possibly, as much as anything else.]

  31

  GIL

  The spherical undulations of sensespace still emanated from the sentinels, although they continued to attenuate into unobservability after a short distance. Gil was not fooled. The craft-lect had been unable to discern the boundary in the same manner as she spoke of, but it had at least managed to register an increase in the sensespace concentration around the sentinels. Apparently, current levels at their position still meant chances of infection were remote, but they could not be certain of it remaining that way for long.

  [What do you mean by hostile?]

  “When the sentinels saw… they saw me. They stopped me,” Gil said.

  “You awakened them, as we wanted–” One-oh began.

  “No, it’s not that…”

  [The pulses are emanating spherically from the sentinels?]

  “Yes!” she said.

  [Precisely from their location?]

  “Yes, they know we’re here.”

  “Not necessarily,” One-oh said.

  “But–”

  “But we probably don’t have much time before they do,” One-oh said.

  “Are they attacking us?” 998 said.

  Gil did not respond, she did not know.

  “No… I don’t think so, not yet.” One-oh said.

  “Then why–”

  “I think they’re looking for us,” One-oh said. “Maybe Gil is right.”

  “How?”

  “Gil said the pulses stop only a short distance from the boundary. I think it’s spill-over, from–”

  [AB space.]

  “What?” Gil said.

  “AB space… yes,” One-oh said, calmly, before breathing deeply in and out. “It’s a sentient reality, where the ABs resided, partially. What Gil’s seeing may be spill-over. The sensespace must be there, in–”

  “What? It wasn’t just… real space? Do you think that’s what I saw the sensespace being pushed into before? When the sensespace showed me–”

  “That seems likely… now.”

  “Such high concentrations,” 998 said.

  “Yes, and what the sentinels are doing there, has the force to push in out into real space. The power… I think Gil’s attempts to cross the boundary confused them, or threatened them, they think it was from AB space.”

  [Can we be affected in real space from an attack in AB space?]

  “No, I don’t think so,” One-oh said.

  [Then we have some time.]

  “They must see us in real space?” 998 said.

  “They’re ABs, 998 – well, AB technologies. They probably identify us as inconsequential. It would take them some time, I would guess.”

  “But when they realise the attempt at crossing their barrier came from–”

  [Gil.]

  She looked up automatically, as though expecting to see a physical representation of the craft-lect, before realising she was expected to respond.

  “Yes?”

  [The sentinels are most likely not designed for interstellar travel.]

  She waited for more information – none came. She was about to query it, until she realised what it meant.

  “You mean we could leave now. But I… I–”

  [This could be a
n opportunity to use your abilities.]

  “How?”

  [That is up to you.]

  She tried to gather her thoughts.

  “I… Back in the commune, I could enter the others’ minds… make them do what I wanted…”

  One-oh looked more alert, although he did not say anything.

  “But… but there’s something else,” she said.

  [Something else?]

  “There’s something else – it’s not just the sentinels. There are other things near them.”

  “What other things?” One-oh said.

  “I’m not sure. They’re small, like little pricks of light… or bursts of something… energy. I can sense them through the sensespace, especially when I… move through it, as a presence.” As she spoke, she momentarily imagined she could see something shimmer around One-oh, similar to what she was describing. She was becoming tired.

  “Bursts of energy… There are other parts of the sensespace?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure… I don’t know. I’ve never seen them before.”

  “Are they joined with the sentinels?”

  “No, definitely not. They’re separate. It’s not like the sensespace is particularly attracted to them. They’re just there.”

  “Maspero technology?”

  “I don’t know.”

  [You may explore them briefly. If we detect a change in the situation, or if you do, inform me immediately.]

  “We are playing a dangerous game,” 998 said.

  Gil did not bother with her usual preamble of sitting comfortably, she delved right in. Opening herself up to the sensespace without hesitation, with a fiery determination. Pushing through her tiredness, she wanted to use this opportunity. The whispers roared up again.

  She moved her presence quickly out from the ship, to the space between it and the awakened sentinels. She saw the sensespace ripples, which were steadily emanating the same as before. She would let the craft-lect know if anything changed.

  Looking for the sparks, concentrating on them for the first time, she realised there were many more than she had initially thought. Hundreds, at least. The more she looked, the more appeared.