The Evolutionary Void v-3

by Peter Hamilton

  Finally, the smartcore admitted he was on the approved list of people allowed to fly the ship and granted him flight command status. The Delivery Man breathed out heavily and ordered the airlock open. Directly above him the base of the starship sank inward and produced a dark cavity. Gravity inverted, and he slipped up into the small spherical chamber. The floor contracted beneath his feet, and the apex opened. He rose into the hemispherical cabin.

  Systems came back on line as the smartcore readied the ship for flight. Everything was functional; the formidable armaments were all ready. The Delivery Man ordered a single fat chair for himself and sat down gratefully as it extruded from the floor. With the ship under his command, he was a player again; it bestowed a lot of confidence.

  He called the “executive” on a secure link.

  “You made it, then,” his unknown ally said.

  “Sure.”

  “And Araminta’s skipped off down the Silfen paths. You know, I’d genuinely like to meet her one day. She’s made complete idiots out of the most powerful organizations in the Greater Commonwealth. You’ve got to admire that.”

  “She’s been lucky,” the Delivery Man commented. “That’s going to run out.”

  “People make their own luck.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Is the ship ready?”

  The Delivery Man took a moment before answering. “I’m sorry, but in the end my family is all that matters to me. I think it would be best if I went after Marius.”

  “He’s already left Fanallisto. His ship took off about fifteen minutes after Lady Rasfay launched. You maybe see a connection there, supersecret agent?”

  “I’ll find him.”

  “Not alone, you won’t. Besides, I’m the best chance for your family’s survival.”

  “I don’t know what you are or where your loyalties lie.”

  “I said I would give you proof, and I will. Here are the coordinates. Come and get it.”

  The Delivery Man studied the data that arrived. “The Leo Twins? What’s there?”

  “Hope. And maybe just some salvation thrown in for good measure. Come on, sonny, what have you got to lose? It’s going to take you a few hours at most to get there. If you don’t like what you find, then you’re free to turn around and launch yourself into your whole honorable quest thing. I think you owe the Conservative Faction this much, don’t you?”

  The Delivery Man regarded the ridiculous coordinate for a long time. The only possible thing at the Leo Twins would be some kind of secret Conservative Faction facility. After all, he reasoned, they had to make their ultradrive ships somewhere. In which case, why would they need this ship back there? “Can’t you just level with me?”

  “Okay, then: As far as I know, I’m the only one with a valid plan to save the galaxy from Ilanthe and the Void.”

  “Oh, come on!”

  “Does ANA have a plan, or, rather, did it? Does the navy? Do any of the other faction survivors? Maybe you wanna go bold and ask MorningLightMountain? Release the big fella from behind that barrier and it’ll certainly wipe us out: Problem solved if you’re looking at the overall big picture. Or … oh, no, don’t tell me you think the President and the Senate will produce a way out. You’re going to entrust the fate of the galaxy to politicians?”

  “Who the fuck are you?”

  “Just stop whining and get yourself over to the Leo Twins. You’ll have your answers there, I promise.”

  “Just tell me.”

  “Can’t. Don’t trust you enough.”

  “What?”

  “The stakes are too high. I can’t predict what you’ll do at this stage. And I do have other options if you fail me. Not as good as you, though. That means the best chance your Lizzie and the kids have is you and me teaming up. Something you might want to think on.”

  The link closed.

  “Shit!” The Delivery Man thumped his fist against the chair’s resilient cushioning. He knew he didn’t really have a choice. “Take us to the Leo Twins,” he told the smartcore.

  From a nightside orbit, Darklake City was a blaze of light over a hundred fifty kilometers across, infested with strange lightless sections where the lakes and the steepest mountains had repelled any attempts at development throughout its nearly fifteen-hundred-year human history. Sited in the subtropical zone of Oaktier, the capital was a monument to both progress and classicalism. Its ancient core district of crystal skyscrapers and vermilion-shaded condo-pyramids had flourished as the world became Higher, with individual buildings maintained or expanded as new materials and techniques became available. Residents from the first-era Commonwealth would still have recognized the center, even though the scale of the structures had increased dramatically. Outside the old hub, newer suburbs reflected the whimsey of modern architecture and a lack of industrial or commercial districts, producing stretches of parkland where homes and various community buildings sprawled amid the vibrant flora. Citizens continued to celebrate their original Pacific Basin ancestry with strong traditions in seasports and enthusiasm for the planet’s ecology. Such factors gave Oaktier a reputation of being altogether less conventional and formal than the majority of Inner worlds, where Higher culture seemed to be nothing other than an endless series of seminars and debates on public policy. As such, Oaktier tended to draw a fair proportion of new citizens from the External worlds as they began their inward migration and transformation to Higher.

  Somehow, Digby didn’t think his adversary was beginning the conversion to Higher culture. The starship he’d followed from Ellezelin sank through the upper atmosphere, heading down to the smallest of Darklake City’s three spaceports. The craft had come out of hyperspace without any stealth and filed a standard landing request with the planetary spaceflight authority.

  By contrast, Digby kept the Columbia505 a thousand kilometers above the equator and employed its full stealth suite to ward off the local defense agency’s sensors. The planetary government, in all its thousands of local committees, had come to a uniform decision to go to a grade one alert status. Three River-class warships were in patrol orbit half a million kilometers out, ready to respond to any perceived threat. Fortunately, they hadn’t detected the Columbia505, either.

  “The Accelerators must have an active team down there,” Digby reported to Paula as the Accelerators’ starship landed. “Do you want me to contact our local office for support?”

  “We’re long past a tussle between enriched agents to achieve our objectives,” she told him. “You’ll have to follow the ship’s pilot through scruitineers in the planetary cybersphere. That will leave you positioned to apply firepower from orbit to achieve our objectives.”

  “We have objectives?”

  “Yes. One. And it’s very simple: No one else must acquire Araminta. No one. No matter what the cost.”

  “Ozzie! You want me to shoot into an urban area?”

  “If that’s what’s required. Hopefully, it won’t come to that. I don’t believe she’ll ever come to Oaktier.”

  “Then why is the Accelerator agent here?”

  “Laril, Araminta’s ex-husband, is currently on the inward migration. He’s living in Darklake City.”

  “Oh. And you think she’ll make contact?”

  “She already has. I’ve analyzed his node logs. They’ve had a couple of chats. The last one was interrupted by my shotgun on Chobamba.”

  “Ah.” Digby ordered his u-shadow to run a search through local records. “There’s no history of a Silfen path on Oaktier.”

  “No. But if Laril is the one she’s turning to for advice, I imagine the Accelerators are going to snatch him and apply some pressure.”

  “That’s logical. Did your u-shadow track her new unisphere address code?”

  “She doesn’t have one. She’s been accessing the unisphere manually, through nodes. No records.”

  “Clever. Do you think the Silfen will shelter her?”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Have you got
any contacts there?” That was almost a stupid question, but he’d learned a long time ago never to underestimate his great-grandmother.

  “I’ve had occasion to join the Motherholme communion, but you never get anything definite out of the Silfen. Unless you’re unlucky enough to bump into one of them called Clouddancer-then you get a whole load of bad-tempered information.”

  “So there’s no telling where she’s going to come out?”

  “No. But when she does, we need to be ready.”

  Digby accessed the spaceport sensors, watching the Accelerator emerge from her ship. She wasn’t wearing any clothes, though her gray skin was more a toga-suit haze than anything living, and it looked as though it was constricting tightly across her small skeleton. Two long streamers of blood-red fabric flowed out horizontally behind her, fluttering as if in a breeze. As she looked around, her eyes glimmered with a faint pink luminescence. “Valean,” he said ruefully. “I might have guessed after what happened on Ellezelin.” She made Marius look subtle by comparison. The Accelerators used her only when they needed extreme measures.

  “That just emphasizes how important Araminta is to them,” Paula said. “You are going to have to keep a very tight watch. She cannot be allowed to reach Laril.”

  “Shall I just target her now? She’s outside her ship defenses.”

  There was a slight hesitation. “No,” Paula said. “We don’t know the rest of the Accelerator team on Oaktier. Once you’ve identified them, we’ll discuss direct elimination.”

  “Okay. I’m on it.”

  Mellanie’s Redemption accelerated smoothly up to fifty-two light-years an hour and held steady. Troblum’s exovision was completely full of display graphics, allowing him no glimpse of the cabin. His secondary routines twinned the new drive’s management programs. With his mentality expanded to maximum capacity, he effectively was the ultradrive, feeling the exotic energy flow, sensing the quantum fields realign into standard hyperspace configuration. Fluctuations were tremors along his hull/flesh that were countered and calmed instantaneously, leaving only the phantom memory of disturbance. Within the body/machine, power flooded along specific patterns, twisting and compressing into unnatural formations that collapsed spacetime. Functionality was absolute, flowing so smoothly and effortlessly that his consciousness was elevated to Zen levels, making his world seem perfectly ordered.

  With great reluctance he shrank away from the drive, designating it to an autonomic monitor routine. Now he was simply aware of the system and its myriad components in the same way he knew his heart beat and lungs inhaled. The sensation of loss was nearly physical, as if he were coming down off a sugar high.

  A servicebot slid over, carrying a plate of caramel-coated pecan doughnuts and a coffeepot. He put a whole doughnut into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. Catriona Saleeb sat in the chair opposite, long legs folded neatly to one side, which had pushed her shorts up to the very top of her thighs. Her slack top with its tiny straps shifted to show off even more cleavage as she leaned forward.

  “That was impressive,” she cooed huskily.

  “Kit assembly is tedious,” he said. “And that’s all this was. It’s the principle behind the drive which is impressive.”

  “But you did it; you mastered the beast.”

  He swallowed another doughnut and drank some coffee. There was a lot of tease in her voice; he wondered if she was missing her usual companions. Somehow he just couldn’t bring himself to reboot Trisha’s I-sentient personality. Seeing the Sentient Intelligence subvert her image and routines had spoiled the effect for him, making her less than a person.

  “Are you going to reinstate a full gravity field now?” she asked. There was a thread of concern in her voice.

  “Soon. After I’ve had a rest.” He knew he was going to pay for keeping the onboard gravity low, but it reduced the physical stress on his body. I deserve that after everything I’ve been through. He popped another doughnut in.

  “Don’t leave it too long,” she said. Her legs straightened, and she came over to him. An elegant hand touched his knee. Her routines must have meshed with his sensory enrichments; he could feel the delicate touch as if feathers were stroking him through the worn toga-suit fabric. “There’s just us left now,” she said, and her beautiful features sketched a tragic sadness. Dark hair fell around her, almost brushing against him. “You’ll look after me, Troblum, won’t you? You won’t let anything bad happen. Please. I couldn’t stand that, not going the way the others went: left behind, ruined.”

  He was staring at the hand, allowing the sensations to continue. He could even feel the warmth of the fingers, exactly human body temperature. Perhaps he didn’t need to replace Howard Liang to experience being with a woman. Perhaps it would just be he and Catriona. After all, it was a long way to the Andromeda galaxy.

  The thought shook him out of his reverie, and he quickly brought the coffee cup up again. Such concepts shouldn’t be rushed into; it would need close examination, thinking about, implications considered. He looked around the cabin, everywhere but her face. She would know what he’d thought if she saw his eyes. Know him. That was wrong.

  Catriona must have perceived his sudden shift. She gave him a small sympathetic smile and backed off in a rustle of silky fabric.

  There might have been just the faintest scent from her proximity. “I need to check what’s happening,” he told her.

  The smartcore opened a TD link to the unisphere. Almost immediately, Trisha’s projector produced a knot of undulating tangerine and turquoise sine waves above one of the cabin’s empty seats.

  “Are you aware of events?” the SI asked.

  “Why? What’s happened?” Troblum asked.

  “The Accelerator faction has imprisoned Sol.”

  Troblum felt a flash of wondrous satisfaction. “The Swarm worked?”

  “That was your secret? The bargaining chip you wanted to use with Paula?”

  Satisfaction gave way to a sudden flare of guilt. “Yes,” he said, then hurriedly added: “I didn’t know what they were going to use it for.”

  “Of course.”

  “Did anything get out?”

  “No, nothing,” the SI said. Its oscillations deepened to purple for a moment. “The navy can’t break in. The President has asked High Angel if it can get through.”

  “What was the answer?”

  “The Raiel said probably not. The Sol barrier seems to be based on Dark Fortress technology. Is that right?”

  “Yeah,” Troblum said reluctantly; he couldn’t actually see how admitting that would make things any worse.

  “You were there at the Dark Fortress. I know that, and so does Paula; she interviewed your old captain, Chatworth. You were part of this project, a large part.”

  “I liked what the Accelerators were doing. It’s the faction I shall join.”

  “Only if the Sol barrier gets lifted,” the SI said. “There’s no way to reach ANA now, and the deterrence fleet is trapped inside the barrier as well. The Commonwealth is completely exposed to the rest of the galaxy, and there are worse things out there than the Ocisen Empire, believe me.”

  “Not after Fusion. Humans will become postphysical, and such things will be an irrelevence.”

  “I don’t wish to become postphysical, nor does a huge proportion of your own species. Troblum, this is wrong and you know it. There are many ways to achieve postphysical status without forcing it upon those who don’t wish it.”

  “It won’t be forced,” he said sulkily.

  “Are you familiar with the Fusion concept and how it will be enacted?”

  “Not really.”

  “And you were trying to stop the Fusion, if I’m not mistaken?” The SI’s tone became sympathic. “You and the Accelerators have parted company.”

  “I don’t agree with them using the Cat. I still hold with postphysical elevation.”

  “Will you transcend, Troblum? Is that your plan?”

  “I … don’t know. M
aybe. Yes, ultimately.”

  “I hope you achieve your goal. Why are you still on your ship? Why not join the Pilgrimage and travel into the Void?”

  “Because they’ll kill me if they find me.”

  “That’s not very enlightened of them. Do you want creatures with that kind of behavior profile to be the gatekeepers to human evolution?”

  Troblum sank down into his chair, trying not to scowl at the fluctuating lines. “What do you want?”

  “We both know why they’ll kill you now, Troblum. Because you know how to switch off the barrier, don’t you?”

  “Actually, I don’t. Only a code can deactivate it, and I don’t know it. I never have.”

  “But you understand the fundamentals behind the Swarm technology. If anyone can get through, it’ll be you.”

  “No. I don’t know how. That force field is unbreakable.”

  “Have you thought about that? Have you analyzed every aspect?” the SI urged.

  “Of course. We had to be sure its integrity was perfect.”

  “Nothing is perfect, Troblum, not in this universe. You know that. There will be a flaw.”

  “No.”

  The colorful projection of waving lines shifted to blue. “You have to let ANA out, Troblum. You have to find a way.”

  “It can’t be done.”

  “Think about it. Look at the problem from fresh angles. Find the solution, Troblum. You owe your species that much.”

  “I owe you nothing,” he spit. “Look at the shitty way everyone treats me.”

  “Indeed, yes. You have-or had-your personal collection of war memorabilia, the greatest there had ever been. You have the EMAs to indulge yourself in any way you want. Higher society gave you all that. On a personal level there are friends out there if you want them, lovers, wives.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Nobody wants me.”

  The SI’s voice softened. “Have you ever reached out for people, Troblum? They would be amenable if you did that, if you wanted to do that. You’ve devoted decades to nurturing I-sentient personalities. Are they people?”

  Troblum glanced at Catriona, who gave him an encouraging little smile. “Really, what do you want?” he asked. “Why are you even fucking talking to me?”