The Night's Dawn Trilogy

by Peter F. Hamilton

  “Corpus will have to intervene now,” one of the other residents said, a lady called Saska. “That anti-memory could seep outside the human spectrum. Then there’d be trouble.”

  “Corpus won’t,” Tracy replied. “It never does. What is, is. Remember?”

  “Check your references,” another woman said. “Plenty of races considered deploying similar weapons when they encountered the beyond. We’ve got records of eighteen being used.”

  “That’s awful. What happened?”

  “They didn’t work very well. Only a moderate percentage of the inverse transcendent population were eliminated. There’s too much pattern distortion among the inverses to conduct an anti-memory properly. No species has ever developed one that operates fast enough to be effective. Such things cannot be considered a final solution by any means.”

  “Yes but that idiot Haaker won’t know that until after it’s been tried,” Galic, one of the men, complained. “We can’t possibly allow a human to die, not even an inverse. No human has ever died.”

  “We’ve suffered a lot though,” a resentful voice muttered.

  “And they’ll start dying on the removed worlds soon enough.”

  “I tell you, Corpus won’t intervene.”

  “We could appeal,” Tracy said. “At the very least we could ask for an insertion at the anti-memory project to monitor its development. After all, if anyone’s going to come up with an anti-memory fast enough to devastate the beyond, it’ll be our weapons-mad race.”

  “All right,” Saska said. “But we’ll need a quorum before we can even get the appeal up to an executive level.”

  “As if that’ll be a problem,” Galic said.

  Tracy smiled mischievously. “And I know of someone who’s perfectly suited to this particular insertion.” Several groans were issued across the lounge.

  “Him?”

  “Far too smart for his own good, if you ask me.”

  “No discipline.”

  “We never ran observer operations like that.”

  “Cocky little bugger.”

  “Nonsense,” Tracy said briskly. She put her arm round Jay. “Jay likes him, don’t you, Jay?”

  “Who?”

  “Richard.”

  “Oh.” Jay held up Prince Dell; for some unexplainable reason she hadn’t managed to abandon the bear in her room. “He gave me this,” she announced to the lounge at large.

  Tracy laughed. “There you go then. Arnie, you prepare the appeal, you’re best acquainted with the minutiae of Corpus protocol procedures.”

  “All right.” One of the men raised his hands in gruff submission. “I suppose I can spare the time.”

  The TV was switched back on, playing the signature tune for “I Love Lucy.” Tracy pulled a face, and took Jay’s hand. “Come on, poppet, I think you’re quite bored enough already.”

  “Who’s the Corpus?” Jay asked as they walked through the front entrance and into the sharp sunlight. There was a black iron penny-farthing bicycle mounted on a stone pedestal just outside. The first time Jay had seen it, she’d taken an age to work out how people were supposed to ride it.

  “Corpus isn’t a who, exactly,” Tracy said. “It’s more like the Kiint version of an Edenist Consensus. Except, it’s sort of a philosophy as well as a government. I’m sorry, that’s not a very good explanation, is it?”

  “It’s in charge, you mean?”

  Tracy’s hesitation was barely noticeable. “Yes, that’s right. We have to obey its laws. And the strongest of all is non-intervention. The one which Haile broke to bring you here.”

  “And you’re worried about this anti-memory weapon thing?”

  “Badly worried, though everyone is trying not to show it. That thing could cause havoc if it gets released into the beyond. We really can’t allow that to happen, poppet. Which is why I want Richard sent to Trafalgar.”

  “Why?”

  “You heard what they were saying. He lacks discipline.” She winked.

  Tracy led her back to the circle of ebony marble above the beach. Jay had seen several of them dotted around the cluster of chalets, including a couple in the clubhouse itself. A few times she’d even seen the black spheres blink into existence and deposit somebody. Once she’d actually scampered on to a circle herself, closing her eyes and holding her breath. But nothing had happened. She guessed you needed to datavise whatever control processor they used.

  Tracy stopped at the edge of the circle, and held up a finger to Jay. “Someone to see you,” she said.

  A black sphere materialized. Then Haile was standing there, half-formed arms waving uncertainly.

  Friend Jay! Much gladness.

  Jay squealed excitedly, and rushed forward to throw her arms around her friend’s neck. “Where’ve you been? I missed you.” There was plenty of hurt in the voice.

  I have had time learning much.

  “Like what?”

  A tractamorphic arm curled round Jay’s waist. How things work.

  “What things?”

  The Corpus. Haile’s tone was slightly awed.

  Jay rubbed the top of the baby Kiint’s head. “Oh that. Everyone here’s really annoyed with it.”

  With Corpus? That cannot be.

  “It won’t help humans with possession, not big help like we need, anyway. Don’t worry, Tracy’s going to lodge an appeal. Everything will be all right eventually.”

  This is goodness. Corpus is most wise.

  “Yeah?” She patted Haile’s front leg, and the Kiint obediently bent her knee. Jay scrambled up quickly to sit astride Haile’s neck. “Does it know any good sandcastle designs?”

  Haile lumbered off the ebony circle. Corpus has no knowledge concerning the building of castles from sand. Jay grinned smugly.

  “Now you two be good,” Tracy said sternly. “You can swim, but you’re not to go out of your depth in the water. I know the providers will help if you get into trouble, but that’s not the point. You have to learn to take responsibility for yourselves. Understood?”

  “Yes, Tracy.”

  I have comprehension.

  “All right, go on then, have fun. And Jay, you’re not to stuff yourself with sweets. I’m cooking supper for us tonight, and I shall be very cross if you don’t eat anything.”

  “Yes, Tracy.” She squeezed her knees into Haile’s flanks, and the Kiint started moving forwards, taking them quickly away from the old woman.

  “Did you get into lots of trouble for rescuing me?” Jay asked anxiously after they’d left Tracy behind.

  Corpus has much understanding and provides forgiveness.

  “Oh good.”

  But I am not to do it again.

  Jay scratched her friend’s shoulders fondly as they hurried down towards the water. “Hey, you’re getting lots better at walking.”

  The rest of the afternoon was a delight. Like old times back in Tranquillity’s cove. They swam, and the attendant universal provider extruded a sponge and a brush so Haile could be scrubbed, they built some sandcastles, though this fine loose sand wasn’t terribly good for it, Jay risked asking for a couple of chocolate almond ice creams—was pretty sure the provider would tell Tracy if she had any more—they swatted an inflated beach ball to and fro, and once they’d tired themselves out they talked about the Kiint home system. Haile didn’t know much more than Tracy had already explained, but whatever new question Jay asked, the Kiint just consulted Corpus for an answer.

  The information was rather intriguing. For a start, the cluster of retirement chalets were one of three such human establishments on an otherwise uninhabited island fifty kilometres across. It was called The Village.

  “The island’s called The Village?” Jay asked in puzzlement.

  Yes. The retired human observers insisted this be so. Corpus suggests there is much irony in the naming. I know not about irony.

  “Cultural difference,” Jay said loftily.

  The Village was one of a vast archipelago of islands, ho
me to the observers of eight hundred different sentient xenoc races. Jay looked longingly at the yacht anchored offshore. How fabulous it would be to sail this sea, where every port would be home to a new species.

  “Are there any Tyrathca here?”

  Some. It is difficult for Corpus to insert into their society. They occupy many worlds, more than your Confederation. Corpus says they are insular. This has troubled Corpus recently.

  Haile told her of the world she was living on now, called Riynine. Nang and Lieria had selected a home in one of the big cities, a parkland continent studded with domes and towers and other colossi. There were hundreds of millions of Kiint living there, and Haile had met lots of youngsters her own age.

  I have many new friends now.

  “That’s nice.” She tried not to feel jealous.

  Riynine was invisible from The Village; it was a long way around the Arc, almost behind the dazzling sun. One of the capital planets, where flocks of xenoc starships arrived from worlds clear across the galaxy, forming a spiralling silver nebula above the atmosphere.

  “Take me there,” Jay pleaded. She ached to see such a wonder. “I want to meet your new friends and see the city.”

  Corpus does not want you alarmed. There is strangeness to be had there.

  “Oh please, please. I’ll simply die if I don’t. It’s so unfair to come all this way and not see the best bit. Please, Haile, ask Corpus for me. Please!”

  Friend Jay. Please have calmness. I will appeal. I promise.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She jumped up and danced around Haile, who snaked out slender tractamorphic arms to try and catch her.

  “Hey there,” a voice called. “Looks like the two of you’re having a good time.”

  Jay stopped, breathless and flushed. She squinted at the figure walking across the glaring sand. “Richard?”

  He smiled. “I came to say goodbye.”

  “Oh.” She let out a heavy breath. Everything in her life was so temporary these days. People, places . . . She tilted her head. “You look different.”

  He was wearing a deep-blue uniform, clean and creased; with shining black boots. A peaked cap was tucked under his arm. And the ponytail was gone; his hair trimmed down to a centimetre high crop. “Senior Lieutenant, Keaton, Confederation Navy, reporting for duty, ma’am.” He saluted.

  Jay giggled. “This is my friend, Haile.”

  Hello, Haile.

  Greetings Richard Keaton.

  Richard tugged at his jacket, shifting his shoulders. “So what do you think? How do I look?”

  “It’s very smart.”

  “Ah, I knew it. It’s true. All the girls love a uniform.”

  “Do you really have to go?”

  “Yep. Got drafted by our friend Tracy. I’m off to Trafalgar to save the universe from the wicked Doctor Gilmore. Not that he knows he’s being wicked. That’s part of the problem, I’m afraid. Ignorance is a tragic part of life.”

  “How long for?” She hadn’t quite realized things would move so fast. Tracy had only talked about the insertion a few hours ago. And now here it was, about to happen.

  “Not sure. That’s why I wanted to make sure I saw you before I left. Tell you not to worry. Tracy and all her cronies mean well, but they get panicked too easily. I want you to know the human race is a lot smarter and resilient than those wonderful old coots think we are. They’ve seen too much of us at the wrong end of history. I know what we are now. And this is the time that counts. We stand a damn good chance, Jay. I promise you that.”

  She put her arms round him. “I’ll look after Prince Dell for you.”

  “Thanks.” He looked about with theatrical slyness, and lowered his voice. “When you get the chance . . . ask the provider for a surfboard and a jetski. And that was your idea. Okay?”

  She nodded extravagantly. “Okay.”

  * * *

  This refit hadn’t been on quite the scale as the last two she’d undergone; but there was no doubt about it, the Lady Macbeth was an honoured source of income to the service and engineering companies that operated in Tranquillity’s counter-rotating spaceport. Several of her life support capsule fittings had collapsed under the incredible acceleration of the antimatter drive. Then there were the additional reaction mass tanks to install in the cargo bays. A whole new specialist sensor suite wired in for Kempster Getchell, as well as loading a fleet of small survey satellites. Hull plates had been removed to allow the replacement energy patterning node to be installed.

  When Ione floated into the docking bay’s control centre, the nullfoam spray nozzles were folding back against the sides of the bay. Lady Mac glistened a pristine silver-grey under the ring of lights at the top of the steep metal crater.

  Joshua was talking to some of the staff operating the consoles in front of the windows, discussing colour and style for the name and registration. A spindly waldo arm was already sliding out under the direction of one operator, its ion-jet painter head rotating into position.

  “You’re supposed to be launching in twenty-eight minutes,” Ione said.

  Joshua glanced across and smiled. He left the control centre staff, and glided over to her. They kissed. “Plenty of time. And you can’t fly without a name on the fuselage. Besides, the C.A.B. inspectors have already cleared us for flight.”

  “Did Dahybi sort out the new node?”

  “Yeah. Eventually. We had to get him some help. A voidhawk actually went and collected two of the manufacturer’s software team from the Halo for us. They solved the synchronization glitch. Jesus, I love ultra priority projects.”

  “Good.”

  “We just have to load the combat wasps, and Ashly’s flying our new MSV over from the Dassault service bay. Your science team is already on board. We got Kempster and Renato along with Mzu and the agents. Parker Higgens insisted on travelling in the Oenone with Oski Katsura and her assistants.”

  “Don’t be offended,” Ione said. “Poor Parker gets dreadfully spacesick.”

  Joshua gave her a blank look, as if she’d come out with a non sequitur. “And we’ve got the serjeants in zero-tau as well. Lady Mac’s hauling a much bigger load than Oenone.”

  “It’s not a contest, Joshua.”

  He grinned lopsidedly and pulled her close. “I know.”

  Liol erupted through the hatchway. “Josh! There you are. Look, we can’t—oh.”

  “Hello, Liol,” Ione said sweetly. “So have you been enjoying yourself in Tranquillity?”

  “Er, yeah. It’s great. Thanks.”

  “You made a big impression on Dominique. She can’t stop talking about you.”

  Liol grimaced, appealing silently to Joshua.

  “I don’t think you’ve said goodbye to her yet, have you?” Ione asked.

  Liol’s blush was beyond the ability of any neural nanonic override to control. “I’ve been very busy helping Josh. Er, hey, perhaps you could do it for me?”

  “Yes, Liol.” She struggled against a laugh. “I’ll let her know you’ve gone.”

  “Thanks, Ione, I owe you one. Er, Josh, we really need you on board now.”

  Ione and Joshua both started chuckling after he vanished back out of the hatch. “You take care,” she told him after a while.

  “Always do.”

  The ride back to her apartment took a long time. Or perhaps it was because she suddenly felt so lonely.

  He took it all very well, Tranquillity said.

  You think so? He hurts a lot inside. There’s a lot to be said for ignorance being bliss. But then again, he would’ve guessed eventually. I wouldn’t have been doing either of us any favours, not in the long run.

  I am proud of your integrity.

  Not much compensation for a broken heart . . . Sorry, that was bitchy of me. Hormones again.

  Do you love him?

  You’re always asking that.

  And each time you give me a different answer.

  I have very strong feelings for him. You know
that. God, having two children with a man shows something. He’s absolutely adorable. But love . . . love I don’t know. I think I love what he is, not him. If I truly loved him, I would’ve tried to make him stay. We could’ve found something worthwhile for him to do here. Then again, maybe it’s me. Maybe I can never love anyone that way, not when I have you. She closed her eyes on the empty tube carriage, and watched the docking cradle slide Lady Mac up out of the bay. The starship’s thermo-dump panels unfolded, and the umbilicals jacked into sockets around her lower hull section disengaged. A cloud of gas and silver dust blew away. Bright blue ion flames burned around the starship’s equator, and she lifted smoothly.

  Ten thousand kilometres away, Meredith Saldana’s squadron was coming together in formation. The Oenone lifted cleanly from its pedestal, and swept out to join Lady Mac. The two very different starships matched velocities, and headed towards the squadron.

  I am no substitute for a human, Tranquillity said gently. I would never claim you.

  I know. But you’re my first love, and you always will be my love. That’s strong competition for a man.

  Voidhawk captains succeed.

  You’re thinking of Syrinx.

  And all her kind.

  But they’re Edenists. They have it different.

  Perhaps you should get to know some while we’re here. They at least would not be intimidated by me.

  Good idea. But . . . I don’t know if it’s because I’m a Saldana, but I just don’t feel right about embracing Edenism as the solution to all my problems. It’s a wonderful culture. But if we stayed here, if I had an Edenist for a partner, we’d wind up becoming absorbed.

  We have no future returning to Mirchusko. The Laymil are no longer a mystery.

  I know. But I’m still not converting to Edenism. We’re unique, you and I. We might have been created for one purpose, but we’ve evolved beyond that now. We have our own lives to live; we have the right to chose our own future.

  If the possessed don’t do that for us.

  They won’t. Joshua’s flight is only one of a hundred different explorations into this problem. The human race will surmount this.

  Not without change. Edenism will change, they will surely have to rethink their attitude to religion.