The Night's Dawn Trilogy

by Peter F. Hamilton

  “How could you visit the Confederation? Does that jump machinery of yours work underwater as well?”

  Yes.

  “But there wouldn’t be much for you to see, I’m afraid. Everything interesting happens on land. Oh, except for Atlantis, of course.”

  Land is always small and clotted with identical plants. I would see the life that teems below the waves where nothing remains the same. Every day is joyfully different. You should modify yourself and come to dwell among us.

  “No thank you very much,” she said primly.

  That is a sadness.

  “I suppose what I mean is, you wouldn’t be able to see what humans have achieved. Everything we’ve built and done is on the land or in space.”

  Your machinery is old to us. It holds little attraction. That is why my family returned to the water.

  “You mean you’re like our pastorals?”

  I apologise. My understanding of human references is not complete.

  “Pastorals are people who turned away from technology, and lived life as simply as they can. It’s a very primitive existence, but they don’t have modern worries, either.”

  All races of Kiint embrace technology, Haile said. The providers cannot fail now; they give us everything and leave us free.

  “This is the bit about you which I don’t really get. Free to do what?”

  To live.

  “All right, try this. What are you two going to be when you grow up?”

  I shall be me.

  “No no.” Jay would have liked to stamp her foot for emphasis. Given what she was standing on, she thought better of it. “I mean, what profession? What do Kiints spend all day doing?”

  You know my parentals were helping with the Laymil project.

  All activity has one purpose, Vyano said. We enrich ourselves with knowledge. This can come from simply interpreting the observed universe or extrapolating thoughts to their conclusion. Both of these are complementary. Enrichment is the result life is dedicated to. Only then can we transcend with confidence.

  “Transcend? You mean die?”

  Body lifeloss, yes.

  “I’m sure doing nothing but thinking is all really good for you. But it seems really boring to me. People need things to keep them occupied.”

  Difference is beauty, Vyano said. There is more difference in the water than on land. Our domain is where nature excels, it is the womb of every planet. Now do you see why we chose it over the land?

  “Yes. I suppose so. But you can’t all spend the whole time admiring new things. Somebody has to make sure things work smoothly.”

  That is what the providers do. We could not ascend to this cultural level until after our civilization’s machinery had evolved to its current state. Providers provide, under the wisdom of Corpus.

  “I see, I guess. You have Corpus like Edenists have Consensus.”

  Consensus is an early version of Corpus. You will evolve to our state one day.

  “Really?” Jay said. Arguing philosophy with a Kiint wasn’t really what she had in mind when she wanted to visit Riynine. She gestured round, trying to indicate the locus and all the other extravagant buildings: an act of human body language which was probably wasted on the young aquatic Kiint. “You mean humans are going to wind up living like this?”

  I cannot speak for you. Do you wish to live as we do?

  “It’d be nice not having to worry about money and stuff.” She thought of the Aberdale villagers, their enthusiasm for what they were building. “But we need concrete things to do. That’s the way we are.”

  Your nature will guide you to your destiny. It is always so.

  “I suppose.”

  I sense we are kindred, Jay Hilton. You wish to see newness every day. That is why you are here on Riynine. Query.

  “Yes.”

  You should visit the Congressions. That is the best place for a view of the physical achievement which you value so.

  She looked at Haile. “Can we?”

  It will have much enjoyment, Haile said.

  “Thanks, Vyano.”

  The aquatic Kiint began to sink back below the water. Your visit is a newness which has enriched me. I am honoured, Jay Hilton.

  * * *

  When Haile had told Jay that Riynine was a capital world, the little girl had imagined a cosmopolitan metropolis playing host to a multitude of Kiint and thousands of exciting xenocs. The Corpus locus was certainly grandiose, but hardly kicking.

  Her impression changed when she popped out of the black teleport bubble onto one of Riynine’s Congressions. Although the physical concept was hardly extravagant for a race which had such extraordinary resources, there was something both anachronistic and prideful in the gigantic cities which floated serenely through the planet’s atmosphere. Splendidly intricate colossi of crystal and shining metal that proclaimed the true nature of the Kiint to any visitor; more so than the ring of manufactured planets. No race which had the slightest doubt about its own abilities would dare to construct such a marvel.

  The one in which Jay found herself was over twenty kilometres broad. Its nucleus was a dense aggregation of towers and circuitous columns of light like warped rainbows; from that, eight solid crenated peninsulas radiated outwards, themselves bristling with short flat spines. The bloated tufts of cloud it encountered parted smoothly to flow around its extremities, leaving it at the centre of a doldrum zone whose clarity seemed to magnify the landscape ten kilometres below. Shoals of flying craft spun around it, their geometries and technologies as varied as the species they carried; starships equipped with atmospheric drives cavorted along the same flightpaths as tiny ground-to-orbit planes. All of them were landing or taking off from the spines on the peninsulas.

  Jay had arrived at one end of an avenue which ran along the upper reaches of a peninsula. It was made from a smooth sheet of some burgundy mineral, host to a web of glowing opalescent threads that flowed just below the surface. Every junction in the web sprouted a tall jade triangle, like the sculpture of a pine tree. A roof of crystal arched overhead, heartbreakingly similar to an arcology dome.

  Jay held on to Haile’s arm with a tight grip. The avenue thronged with xenocs, hundreds of species walking, sliding, and in several cases flying along together in a huge multi-coloured river of life.

  All her pent up breath was exhaled in a single overwhelmed “Wow!” They hurried off the teleport circle, allowing a family of tall, feathered octopeds to use it. Globes similar to providers, but in many different colours, glided sedately overhead. She sniffed at the air, which contained so many shifting scents all she could really smell was something like dry spice. Slow bass grumbles, quick chittering, whistles, and human(ish) speech gurgled loudly about her, blurring together into a single background clamour.

  “Where do they all come from? Are they all your observers?”

  None of them are observers. These are the species who live in this galaxy, and some others. All are friends of Kiint.

  “Oh. Right.” Jay walked over to the edge of the avenue. It was guarded by a tall rail, as if it were nothing more than an exceptionally big balcony. She stood on her toes and peeked over. They were above a compact city, or possibly a district of industrial structures. There didn’t appear to be any movement in the lanes between the buildings. Right in front of her, spacecraft swished along parallel to the peninsula’s crystal roof as they vectored in on their landing sites.

  The Congression was high enough above the land to lose fine details amid the broader colour swathes of mountains and savannahs. But as though to compensate, the curvature of the horizon could be seen, a splinter of purple neon separating the land and the sky. A coastline was visible far ahead. Or behind. Jay wasn’t sure which way they were travelling. If they were.

  She contented herself with watching the spacecraft flying past. “So what are they all doing here, then?”

  Different species come here to perform exchanges. Some have ideas to give, some require knowledge to mak
e ideas work. Corpus facilitates this. The Congressions act as junctions for those who seek and those who wish to give. Here they can find each other.

  “That all sounds terribly noble.”

  We have opened our worlds to this act for a long time. Some races we have known since the beginning of our history, others are new. All are welcome.

  “Apart from humans.”

  You are free to visit.

  “But nobody knows about Riynine. The Confederation thinks Jobis is your homeworld.”

  I have sadness. If you can come here, you are welcome.

  Jay eyed a quartet of adult Kiint walking along the avenue. They were accompanied by what looked suspiciously like spectres of some slender reptilians dressed in one-piece coveralls. They were certainly translucent, she could see things through them. “I get it. It’s sort of like a qualifying test. If you’re smart enough to get here, you’re smart enough to take part.”

  Confirm.

  “That’d be really helpful for us, learning new stuff. But I still don’t think people want to spend their life philosophising. Well . . . one or two like Father Horst, but not many.”

  Some come to the Congressions asking for our aid, and to improve their technology.

  “You give them that, machines and things?”

  Corpus responds to everyone at a relative level.

  “That’s why the provider wouldn’t give me a starship.”

  You are lonely. I brought you here. I have sorrow.

  “Hey,” she put her arm round the baby Kiint’s neck, and stroked her breathing vents. “I’m not sorry you brought me here. This is something not even Joshua has seen, and he’s been everywhere in the Confederation. I’ll be able to impress him when I get back. Won’t that be something?” She gazed out at the fanciful craft again. “Come on, let’s find a provider. I could do with some ice cream.”

  17

  Rocio waited a day after the Organization’s convoy returned from the antimatter station before he abandoned his routine high orbit patrol above New California and swallowed out to Almaden. Radar pulses from the asteroid’s proximity radar washed across Mindori, returning an odd fuzzy blob on the display screens. It fluctuated in time with the human heart. The visual-spectrum sensors showed the huge dark harpy with its wings folded, hovering two kilometres out from the counter-rotating spaceport. A glitter of red light could just been seen through eyelids that weren’t completely shut.

  In turn, Rocio focused his own senses on Almaden’s docking ledge. Each of the pedestals had been struck by laser fire, spilling a sludge of metal and plastic out across the rock where it had solidified into a grey clinker-like puddle with a surface badly pocked by burst gas bubble craters. The nutrient fluid refinery and its three storage tanks had also been targeted.

  Rocio shared his view with Pran Soo who was back at Monterey. What do you think? he asked his fellow hellhawk.

  The refinery isn’t as badly damaged as it looks. It’s only the outer layers of machinery which have been struck. Etchells just ripped his laser backwards and forwards over it, which no doubt looked spectacular. Lots of molten metal spraying everywhere, and tubes detonating under the pressure. But the core remains intact, and that’s where the actual chemical synthesis mechanism is.

  Typical.

  Yes. Fortunately. There’s no practical reason why this can’t be returned to operational status. Providing you can get the natives to agree.

  They’ll agree, Rocio said. We have something they want: ourselves.

  Good luck.

  Rocio shifted his senses to the counter-rotating spaceport, a small disk whose appearance suggested it was still under construction. It was mostly naked girders containing tanks and fat tubes, with none of the protective plating that spaceports usually boasted. Three ships were docked: a pair of cargo tugs and the Lucky Logorn. The inter-orbit craft had returned ten hours earlier. If the Organization lieutenants in the asteroid were going to discipline the crew, they would have done it by now.

  Rocio opened a short range channel. “Deebank?”

  “Good to see you.”

  “Likewise. I’m glad you haven’t been thrown out of your new body.”

  “Let’s just say, there are more people sympathetic to my cause than there are to the Organization.”

  “What happened to the lieutenants?”

  “Complaining to Capone direct from the beyond.”

  “That was risky. He doesn’t take rebellion kindly. You may find several frigates arriving to make the point.”

  “We figure he’s got enough problems with the antimatter right now. In any case, the only real option he’s got left against this asteroid is to nuke us. If that looks likely, we’ll shift out of this universe and take our chances. We don’t want to do that.”

  “I understand perfectly. I don’t want you to do that, either.”

  “Fair enough, you and I both have our own problems. How can we help each other?”

  “If we’re going to break free from the Organization we require an independent source of nutrient fluid. In return for you repairing your refinery, we are prepared to transport your entire population to a planet.”

  “New California won’t take us.”

  “We can use one which the Organization has already infiltrated. Myself and my friends have enough spaceplanes to make the transfer work. But it will have to be soon. Without the antimatter station there will be no new infiltrations, and those that have been seeded will not remain in this universe for much longer.”

  “We can start repairing the refinery right away. But if we all leave, how are you going to maintain it?”

  “Spare parts must be manufactured in sufficient quantity to keep the refinery functional for a decade. You will also have to adapt your mechanoids for remote waldo operation.”

  “You’re not asking for much.”

  “I believe it’s an equal trade.”

  “Okay, cards on the table. My people here say the components shouldn’t be any problem, our industrial stations can handle that. But we can’t produce the kind of electronics which the refinery needs. Can you get hold of them for us?”

  “Datavise a list over. I will make enquiries.”

  * * *

  Jed and Beth had listened to the exchange in the stateroom cabin they’d moved into. They were spending a lot of time in the neatly furnished compartment by themselves. In bed. There wasn’t a lot else to do since Jed’s mission to resupply their food stocks. And despite Rocio’s assurances that his plans were progressing smoothly, they couldn’t shake off their sense of impending disaster. Such conditions had completely suppressed their inhibitions.

  They were lying together on top of the bunk in post-coital languor, stroking each other in cozy admiration. Sunlight streaming in through the wooden slats that covered the porthole was painting warm stripes across them, helping to dry damp skin.

  “Hey, Rocio, you really think you can make this deal swing?” she asked.

  The mirror above the teak dresser shimmered to reveal Rocio’s face. “I think so. Both of us want something from the other. That is the usual basis for trade.”

  “How many hellhawks want in?”

  “A sufficient number.”

  “Oh yeah? If a whole load of you bugger off, Kiera’s gonna do her best to cripple you. You’ll have to defend Almaden for a start. You’ll need combat wasps for that.”

  “Good heavens, do you really think so?”

  Beth glared at him.

  “There are no suitable asteroid settlements available in other star systems,” Rocio continued. “This is our one chance to secure an independent future for ourselves, despite its proximity to the Organization. We will make quite sure we’re capable of defending that future, never fear.”

  Jed sat up, making sure the blanket was covering his groin when he faced the mirror (Beth never did understand that brand of shyness). “So where do we fit in?”

  “I don’t know yet. I may not need you, after all.”
<
br />   “You gonna turn us in to Capone?” Beth asked, hoping her voice didn’t waver.

  “That would be difficult. How would I explain your presence on board?”

  “So you just let Deebank and his mates in here to take care of us, huh?”

  “Please, we are not all like Kiera. I had hoped you’d realize that by now. I have no desire to see the children possessed.”

  “So where are you going to let us off?” Beth asked.

  “I have no idea. Although I’m sure the Edenists will be happy enough to retrieve you from my corrupt clutches. Details can be worked out when we have locked down our own position. And I have to say that I’m disappointed by your attitude, given what I saved you from.”

  “Sorry, Rocio,” Jed said immediately.

  “Yeah, didn’t mean no offence for sure,” Beth said, one degree above sarcasm.

  The image faded, and they looked at each other. “You shouldn’t annoy him so much,” Jed protested. “Jeeze, babe, we’re like totally dependent on him. Air, water, heat, even bloody gravity. Stop pushing!”

  “I was just asking.”

  “Well don’t!”

  “Yes, sir. Forgot for a moment that you were in charge of everything.”

  “Don’t,” Jed said remorsefully. He reached out and stroked her cheek tenderly. “I never said I was in charge, I’m just worried.”

  Beth knew full well that when he looked at her body the way he was doing now, what he actually saw was the memory of Kiera’s fabulous figure. It didn’t bother her any more, for reasons she didn’t question too closely. Need overcoming dignity, most likely. “I know. Me too. Good job we’ve found something to keep our minds off it the whole time, huh?”

  His grin was sheepish. “Too right.”

  “I’d better get going. The kids’ll be wanting their supper.”

  Navar squealed and pointed when they walked into the galley. “You’ve been at it again!”

  Jed tried to bat her hand away, but she dodged back, laughing and sneering. He could hardly rebuke her; he and Beth hadn’t exactly been secretive about what they were doing.