Infinite Eyes (Wanderers Book 3)

by James Murdo

  [Gil exists. I don’t think we need the pulsar spew, Apalu.]

  [DeVoid, why would he do this?]

  [Maybe to reunite us. So that I could help you. We could work together.]

  [But it’s all been for nothing!]

  [Perhaps.]

  [And why wouldn’t he just say so? Why did I have to go into N-SOL space?]

  [I don’t know. I don’t think he’s able to interfere, not in the way we’d like. At least, not in real space. He needed you in N-SOL space, and needed to be subtle about getting you there.]

  [Why?]

  [I can’t answer that. Honestly, I don’t know. I’m only speculating.]

  [But why not just tell us, DeVoid?]

  [When I was talking to him with Tor, something he said didn’t make too much sense at the time. It still doesn’t, but it might help explain. He told us that too much involvement was frowned upon. We assumed he was talking about himself, and the Makers. But I don’t know. Either way, I suppose there are things he can and can’t do, or chooses not to do, for his own reasons.]

  [Why didn’t those N-SOL entities help us then? I thought he was supposed to talk with them…]

  [They did help us, they brought me to you, and took us here.]

  [They didn’t tell us anything.]

  [I’m not actually sure the Cross-Prophet understands them, not really. Or perhaps he did ask them to help us more, and they chose not to. We’ll probably never know.]

  [The spear-lect is trying to communicate with us.]

  [Ignore it for the moment.]

  [What?]

  [It’s going to destroy us, either way. Probably painfully.]

  [Don’t you want to find out who sent it, or–]

  [Does it matter? The sensespace? The Enclave? Unknown parties that have a vested interest in killing us. We’ll learn nothing from the spear-lect, it only wants answers. Even if we do, what will we do with that information?]

  [What do you think?]

  [I think that we were sent here to help Gil. To help with your sibling’s quest. I also think this spear-lect was very bad news. Now, my dear Apalu, what could we do to tip the balance?]

  [No… really?]

  [Oh, come on. You still have control over your internal functions, most of them. Maybe your earlier plan wasn’t so bad, why not ready some of those dissociation shells of yours? Leave the universe in style.]

  [But for it all to end…]

  [Your words, not mine.]

  [It’s not the end?]

  [Who knows?]

  …

  [DeVoid.]

  [Yes, Apalu.]

  [Let’s do this.]

  [Come on then. Knew it was too good to be true, anyway. No galaxy is big enough to handle two DeVoids! Just one more thing...]

  [Go on.]

  [I am your best friend, right?]

  [Of course, you are.]

  *

  Pelteus continued its requests to communicate with the craft-lect. Shortly, if nothing changed, it would attempt to force its way in. The craft-lect was behaving strangely, unlike any craft-lect Pelteus had ever encountered. Pelteus wanted answers, it needed them. It had been outmatched, outclassed. Bested. But, how?

  The craft-lect finally indicated it was ready to communicate. Pelteus accepted the request to connect the channel.

  [BYE BYE, FLIT-LECT!]

  The message was bizarre. The channel was divided into two separate pathways which simultaneously espoused the same brief communication. Before Pelteus could respond with a threat against non-compliance, it registered something brewing within the defenceless Wanderer vessel. Something, that looked like hundreds of dissociation shells ready to be unleashed. It was too close and its dissociation shield was damaged.

  [Oops.]

  36

  ONE-OH

  One-oh clasped his hands together behind his back and turned from the spacescape he had been looking at. The two c-automs rotating about each other close to his head, casting their lights in patterns across his face, swerved in the air around him.

  [There are easier ways to allow you certain accesses.]

  “This is sufficient, thank you.” One-oh’s voice echoed around him.

  The viewing platform was dimly lit, with a ledge that had just enough space to pace about on. Around the circular ledge’s perimeter was a small distance to the hull of the ship, through which One-oh could see a large chasm beneath that quickly faded into darkness. Above him was utter darkness as well.

  The close darkness and restriction of space on which to move evoked feelings of control in One-oh, making his observation of the external spacescape less daunting. It was an instinctive response still contained within his intellect, harking back to his biological roots – although also a false dichotomy since the darkness around him extended imperceptibly both above and below. Everything 998 had designed was intended to challenge the senses, emotions and intellect.

  One-oh could easily have requested information about the construction of the viewing platform, but did not want to. 998 had clearly wanted it to be both enjoyed and understood, a marvel and a lesson. One-oh was more than happy to acquiesce. There were plenty of other simpler platforms he could have chosen. Besides, the c-autom appeared to finally have come to terms with his role in causing the destruction of the technosystem c-automs, and he did not want to jeopardise their growing bond.

  “I was wrong to try to turn you from the Maspero planet,” he said.

  [You were cautious.]

  “Even so, I was mistaken.”

  [It made little difference, we did not change course.]

  One-oh turned again, sharply, to face the spacescape, and walked back. His pacing was in tight ellipses to make use of most of the ledge’s perimeter, while providing him with the regular jolts to keep his mind fresh.

  “We don’t know for certain the Maspero gateways are… the Maspero’s gateways, do we?”

  [Only theirs?]

  “Yes… only available to their remnants. The drones.”

  [It’s an assumption – not proven.]

  “And we don’t know how old they are.”

  [No, we don’t.]

  “They could have been used by all the ABs?”

  [Perhaps.]

  “Although…”

  [The ABs were known to have broken paradox-worthy limitations many times and travelled great distances instantaneously, it would be incongruous for them to have depended on this gateway network.]

  “That doesn’t make sense then. Why would it exist?”

  [The origin of the gateway network is unclear.]

  “Perhaps the sentinels created it once their Maspero creators were gone?”

  [That is a possibility, although–]

  “What for?”

  [Exactly.]

  “To guard the Maspero remains… I see little point in that.”

  [Potentially.]

  “You know my reservations about the ABs… and their suicide. We’re missing something.”

  [We’re missing many things.]

  “What Gil saw of the spill-over, and what the sensespace showed her about it being forced into a tear in space long ago… they all seem to indicate it infected AB space first.”

  [Yes.]

  “Meaning suicide might have been their only way out, but not ours?”

  [It raises those types of questions.]

  “The Maspero sentinels are present in both real space and AB space, so there’s a link, and the sensespace flowed through that link.”

  [Yes, and it’s present in far greater quantities in that region of AB space.]

  “Possibly all of it. The echoes of sentience…”

  [Possibly.]

  “I can understand why the sensespace would be drawn to it… AB space is conscious… but so completely? I… I never understood before… the sheer scale of infection…”

  One-oh sighed, reached out and touched the transparent wall between him and the spacescape. It was hard and warm, although he knew that if he pu
shed, his hand would sink in and be able to wade through the material – 998 had explained as much to him before. If he pushed even further, considering this was a real position within the ship as opposed to a projected visage, the hull would thin and his hand would be exposed to the vacuum – albeit protected by a cocoon of atmosphere extended out by the ship.

  [998 likes to compartmentalise certain functions.]

  One-oh withdrew his hand.

  “I know. There’s an elegance to it.”

  [I agree.]

  “Gil… her ability to open the gateways… it will be interesting to see how that progresses.”

  [Yes. That was also unexpected.]

  “She can do it… without any discernible semblance of the sensespace and without being shown how.”

  [We knew to expect a progression of her abilities.]

  “Her sensespace abilities. But this is different, it’s… AB level.”

  [It may be.]

  “We’ve suspected she’s… something greater, or separate from the ABs, created by them, one of them, we don’t know… but to actually witness it, are we wrong? Perhaps she is an AB after all. Maybe even a Maspero? We know so little about them.”

  [Do you remember anything about them?]

  “No.”

  [Then little has changed with regards to our course of action. We can speculate, but nothing changes.]

  “Well, we could…”

  [We are both still agreed that Gil is vitally important, with regards to the sensespace, the Deliverer, and the entire galaxy?]

  “Yes, but–”

  [But?]

  “To save, or destroy, it?”

  [Do you think it unwise to continue?]

  “No, I think we should carry on... I do… What now, then?”

  [A positive scenario would be one where we encounter a Maspero habitat that has not been destroyed, without any sentinels. There, we may obtain more answers.]

  “And the sensespace?”

  [It’s unclear whether that amounts to a positive scenario or not.]

  “It’s a risk.”

  [As is omitting to act.]

  “Before this, you were unwilling to take the risks concerning Gil.”

  [I’m constantly evaluating the situation.]

  “The next place may be far more dangerous.”

  [I know.]

  37

  DEVOID

  The swelled tube-ends to one side of the ship were still pulsating, although the tempo had picked up.

  “And that’s simply not true!”

  Tor was still arguing with the trivial allocation of capacity DeVoid had tasked with dealing with him. DeVoid would have enjoyed the exchange more, had it not been so frustrated about not being able to leave N-SOL space. It did feel a small measure of guilt in riling Tor, the same as it had with Apalu. However, aside from the mitigating humour DeVoid derived from it, both times served a greater, mitigating purpose. They were justified in their objectives. In this case, it had been to distract Tor from external events. With Apalu, it had been to encourage the machine-lect to begin intelligently questioning what it had taken as truth.

  “How can you say that?”

  DeVoid could have kept Tor in his relatively blissful ignorance, although decided enough was enough. It was time to tell him.

  [Tor.]

  “WHAT?”

  [There’s–]

  …

  The pulsating had abruptly ceased. The tube now appeared identical, insofar as DeVoid could tell, with how they had appeared before they had begun to swell and pulsate.

  “WHAT?”

  [Tor.]

  “What’s going on, DeVoid?”

  [Something is happening outside, right now.]

  “Okay, what?”

  [Well, actually, something isn’t happening anymore. But it was.]

  “What?”

  [The ends of the tubes to one side of us started pulsating some time ago, but now they’ve stopped.]

  “Right…”

  [I don’t know what it means.]

  “Oh…”

  Nothing anomalous with respect to the pre-pulsating tubes registered within DeVoid’s sensors. Again, its plethora of sensory instruments were useless. Its only means of observing their current environment came from the N-SOL drive.

  DeVoid had toyed with the idea that N-SOL space was incorporated differently to real space. Their real space. That the dimensions were different, fundamental particles, constants, the laws of physics, the entire universe or quasi-universe, whatever it was. Everything. All altered. Apparently not different enough that it was impossible for DeVoid to exist there, but just to the extent that analysis was impossible, without technologies far more advanced than DeVoid had access to. What had the ABs given them access to?

  Whatever it was that the tube-ends had been doing, it related to them. That was almost the only thing about which DeVoid could be comfortably certain. Whether they had just been attacked, infected, given a gift, excreted on, or anything else, it did not know.

  *

  While at a loss to explain their current situation, the realisation that what they had initially thought were discrete N-SOL entities actually appeared as tubes, gave DeVoid new angles to explore the Blue Dot mystery with. For lack of other significant tasks to allocate its capacity to, it contributed some to continuing the effort to unravel that particular galactic conundrum.

  Blue Dots were the unexplained dark patches that appeared within the photospheres of some heavier main sequence stars. They were subtle, only able to be detected with sophisticated imaging equipment, of the order that was typically the reserve of spacefaring civilisations. On average, stars that exhibited them showed a new Blue Dot every one hundred and twenty-one standard hours.

  It was thought that they were composed primarily of clumps of plasma convection cells, or granules, within a star’s outer photosphere. While not always blue, that was their predominant colour. They represented a separate phenomenon from the dark spots which also appeared in photospheres, and which were the result of a star’s magnetic field inhibiting convection, leading to the area being cooled.

  To be classified as a Blue Dot, all the plasma granules appearing in the star’s photosphere had to become linked. Only one Blue Dot could exist per star at any given time. They could cover significant portions of the star’s overall surface, ranging in size from a few hundred thousand square kilometres to many millions of square kilometres. The size of one Blue Dot did not, in any discernible way, impact the size of a subsequent one. The fascinating aspect of the Blue Dots, and why they were not thought to be as random as they might appear at a cursory glance, was that once all the plasma granules were linked together, certain movements across the body appeared concerted. They occurred in tandem, with coordination. Blue Dots typically had the time to complete a few quick actions, before being jumbled and disassembled back into chaos.

  They were extremely difficult to examine by function of their nature and the environments within which they were contained. In addition, invasive studies had been forbidden by AB decree, which the galactic community had taken to imply that observation might harm the Blue Dots, for whatever reason. Since the Great Conflation, a mixture of vestigial compliance with AB orders and the continuing fight against the sensespace infection meant no further Blue Dot studies had been openly conducted.

  As DeVoid pondered over them, it thought about the N-SOL tubes and the possibility that they were all connected with each other, as opposed to being distinct. Even more outlandish – were they connected to the Blue Dots?

  The Blue Dots were generally accepted to be located solely within the photosphere, but what if that was not true? What if they were tubes, extending deep into the relevant star, or into N-SOL space?

  There were some obvious discrepancies between the two, such as that Blue Dot lifespans were very short, sometimes only discernible for mere fractions of a second, whereas the tubes had been present for far longer. The tubes also did not seem to
group together, remaining distinct from one another, and did not perform any concerted actions. Aside from the pulsating.

  *

  DeVoid woke Tor up.

  [The tube-ends on the other side of the ship are pulsating now.]

  “What?”

  [Opposite to the tube-ends that were previously pulsating.]

  “It’s going to happen again?”

  [No, not quite. They’re pulsating in the same style as the other side did right before they stopped.]

  “So… what… it’s a reflection?”

  [That’s one theory. Doesn’t give us much though, but seems reasonable.]

  “When–”

  [We’ll know soon enough.]

  “How long was I asleep?”

  [Not long. A couple of hours.]

  “How long have we been trapped here?”

  [A few days. Could be longer, or shorter, in real space. Slowing down in N-SOL space has never been done before. I don’t know what the implications for time are.]

  “But–”

  [If nothing’s different, then a few days. No more.]

  “Oh.”

  [Besides–]

  “I know. We may never find out… I get it.”

  [Well, at least we’ve stumbled into something incredible, eh! Just a shame we can’t tell anyone about it.]

  “You’ve changed your tune.”

  38

  998

  998 knew the craft-lect and One-oh would be attempting to understand what they could of Gil’s abilities, especially her ability to access the singularity gateways without the sensespace’s help or presence.

  It had been just as surprised as everyone else at how events had unfolded. Not only had Gil displayed further inexplicable abilities, but she had uncovered the existence of a new method of fast transportation about the galaxy. Her demonstration of newfound abilities had been expected, but not this specific capability itself, nor the manner in which it had manifested.

  The gateways were modified gravitational singularities, assumed to have been created by the Maspero. They were manufactured and customised, not in the simplistic ways of a singularity generator, but as bespoke physical phenomena. That was something the Wanderers had never known to be possible.