The capsule slipped down toward one of the five materiel egress facilities spaced equidistantly around the rim of the force field. Their capsule with its escort flew through a series of sophisticated scans before landing outside the entrance of a thirty-story office tower, one of fifty ringing the yard. They were greeted by quite a crowd of senior project personnel headed by Cleric Taranse, the overall director. For once the gaiafield wasn’t just filled with excitement and admiration for her. Everyone working in the construction yard was devoted to the project, delivering a strong and very pleasing sense of achievement. That didn’t stop thousands of them from taking a break and pressing up against the windows to watch her. Araminta slipped back into full politician mode, thanking the group with the director for their extraordinary effort.
As they walked alongside the first massive cylinder, she was struck by how arid the air was inside, almost as bad as the desert around Miledeep Water. An errant thought made her wonder how Ranto was doing right now. Searching the desert in vain for his beloved bike, or had he bought a flashy new one that would boost his status among his peers by an order of magnitude?
The dryness was nothing compared to the noise. With so many machines operating inside the dome, the humming and buzzing was constant, all-pervasive, and loud. Araminta heard the ponderous motions of larger systems through her rib cage. The sheer quantity of metal flying around on regrav units stirred up small fast gusts that whirled along each avenue between hulls like microclimate winds in perpetual conflict. Her hair and robe fluttered about with every step. The giant regrav fields supporting the ships induced disconcerting effects in her inner ears as she moved. Walking in the yard was akin to keeping one’s balance in an earthquake zone; a mere couple of paces through the invisible conflicting fields could bring on unexpected queasiness that secondary routines in her macrocellular clusters had difficulty suppressing.
To counter the nausea, she tried picking a point in the distance and focusing on it; that led her to look up. The metallic-gray fuselage curved away above her, presenting an impression of size and weight almost as great as the one given by the length of the damn thing stretching on ahead. Holes the size of skyscrapers were open all the way along the side, with fleets of bots and freight sleds zipping in and out. Now that she could see them up close, she noticed that most of the sleds were carrying identical consignments. Twenty-four million medical suspension chambers; she couldn’t quite get her head around that number. It was more than the population of Greater Makkathran. But not of Ellezelin, and as for the billions of followers across the Greater Commonwealth …
“I’ve heard this referred to as the first wave,” she said.
“Yes, Dreamer,” Cleric Taranse said cheerfully. He had the appearance of a man in his biological fifties, even down to thinning hair and wrinkled skin; the deliberate elder image, she suspected, was an attempt to give him an aura of experience and confidence. But then, a lot of Living Dream followers allowed themselves to appear to age because in the real Makkathran, everyone grew old. “Now that the production systems have been established, they can continue at remarkably little cost. Ellezelin can certainly afford to keep on producing them.”
“But won’t Ellezelin’s population be the first to leave? When they’ve traveled into the Void, who will keep the economy going?”
“We are ultimately hoping that some kind of bridge can be established between Void and Commonwealth,” Ethan said smoothly. “Such a thing can hardly be beyond the ability of the Heart.”
Araminta remembered the way the boundary had distended out to swallow Justine’s little ship. “Most likely.” She glanced up again as she moved through another clash of regrav waves. The sight of the starship was drawing the Skylord’s attention, building anticipation. One question she was never going to ask it was: Can you reach us here?
“I will need to be awake during the voyage,” she said.
Both Ethan and Taranse smiled an indulgent smile, not quite belittling her but close.
“The life-support section is in the center of the ship, Dreamer,” Taranse said. “Each will have a crew complement of three thousand. There are a lot of systems to maintain even with smartcore and bot support.”
“Of course. That’s very reassuring.”
“The cabins will be fully equipped with every luxury; your voyage will be spent in complete comfort and security. You have nothing to worry about.”
He wasn’t joking, she realized. “How do we stay in contact with Ellezelin during the flight?”
“The ships will be dropping relay stations at frequent intervals, just like the navy link with Centurion Station. As well as TD channels, ours will have confluence nests.”
Araminta felt very reassured by that; she’d been worried about what might happen if she passed out of range of the bulk of her followers. The ships would, no doubt, be crewed by Ethan’s loyalists. “So now we just need the ultradrives and force fields,” she said as she checked the timer in her exovision. There was only a couple of minutes left.
“I have every confidence,” Ethan said easily.
“Oh, I’m sure it wants us to get there, all right,” Araminta said.
He stopped and gave her a look of reluctant admiration. “You were correct in what you said to Ilanthe. The Void will always triumph. I was … gladdened by your faith in it.”
“Do you have any idea what that thing wants to achieve inside?”
“No. But it will be some soulless technocrat scheme to ‘improve’ life for everyone else. It is the kind of delusion of which her kind dream constantly. That is why I never really concerned myself about it.”
“Yes, I thought as much.” For several nights after her arrival in the Orchard Palace, Araminta had tried to feel for Ilanthe’s thoughts to gain a sense of what her intentions were. Bradley and Clouddancer had said the Silfen Motherholme had sensed whatever it was emerging from the Sol system, but either Ilanthe had somehow slipped from the Motherholme’s perception or the Silfen in their wisdom weren’t sharing. She thought the latter unlikely.
“They’re here,” Cleric Taranse announced happily.
Icons from Ellezelin’s civil spaceflight directorate were popping up in Araminta’s exovision. She’d never realized just how much information even a nominal head of state such as herself was supposed to absorb on a daily basis. How actual heads of state coped, she had no idea; expanded and augmented mentalities, presumably.
Thirty-seven large commercial freighters had just dropped out of hyperspace two thousand kilometers above the planet. A secure link to the Ellezelin defense force fleet headquarters informed her that five squadrons of Ellezelin warships were emerging around the freighters in a protective formation. This was the critical stage, the one window of vulnerability left to those who opposed the Pilgrimage. Until the freighters got under the construction yard’s force fields, they were dangerously exposed.
The freighters were given clearance to descend. Sure enough, eight craft lurking in orbit dropped their stealth effect and opened fire. Weird mauve and green light flooded across the ground at Araminta’s feet at the same instant the exovision displays reported what was happening. She tipped her head back reflexively to see what was going on, but the dome had opaqued above her. All she saw was rapidly expanding colored blotches in the grayed sky, like borealis storms as bright as sunlight.
More icons appeared, assuring her that the Greater Makkathran2 force fields were also up and protecting citizens from the terrible torrent of hard radiation slicing through the atmosphere. She even felt a start of anxiety leaking out of Ethan’s gaiamotes and smiled in sympathy. The pilgrimage fleet probably could make it with standard hyperdrives, but without the force fields the Raiel would reduce the ships to radioactive fog.
Though the Void might just be able to stop them, she thought. The Raiel could never beat it.
Her u-shadow told her the head of planetary defense, Admiral Colris, was opening a secure channel. “Dreamer, we’ve eliminated the enemy ships
.”
“Are our ships all right?”
“Three badly damaged; eight took temporary overload hits, but they’re still flightworthy.”
“How badly damaged?”
“We’ll recover the crews. Don’t worry; it’s what we train for, Dreamer.”
“Thank you. Was there any damage to the freighters?”
“No. Lady be praised. It looks like those new force fields are as tough as advertised.”
The whole Greater Commonwealth that was gaiafield-attuned blinked at the burst of Araminta’s surprise. “The freighters are protected by Sol barrier force fields?”
“Yes, Dreamer.”
“I see. Please pass my thanks to your crews.”
“Of course. They’ll appreciate your concern, Dreamer.”
Ethan and Darraklan were both watching the force field overhead gradually clear. The sky beyond was reverting to its usual pristine blue. A few violet scintillations burned through the ionosphere as disintegrating wreckage hurtled downward. Ethan’s delight and relief were open. “Those would be the best ships our opponents could deploy,” the Cleric said.
“Yes,” Araminta replied, not quite knowing if she should be celebrating.
“We can begin installation at once,” Taranse said.
“How long until we’re ready?” she asked.
“If the systems function in accordance with the details they supplied, we’ll be looking at a week.”
“Excellent,” she said. Then I can finally try and stop this madness. I just hope there’s enough time left.
They waited in the construction yard as the freighters dropped down through the atmosphere. Taranse left them to organize the unloading. Araminta and Ethan watched the operation begin from the front of the big office tower where their capsule was parked. She was a little disappointed at how dull it all was. The units were all encased in smooth metal shells, providing no hint as to their function. For all she knew, they were just water tanks.
“Your moment draws near, Dreamer,” Ethan said.
She wasn’t surprised by the way he was studying her so intently. She’d felt his curious thoughts wiggling through the gaiafield, trying to gain a hint of her true feelings. She suspected that when they arrived in the Void, he would prove a formidable telepath.
“It does indeed,” she said levelly. “Where do you suppose all this came from?”
“It is irrelevant now. That it is here is what matters.”
“And because of that we can reach the Void. Yes. That just leaves me and the Skylord now.”
“I will be honored to fly with you in the flagship to offer what support I can.”
“Which one …” Her hand waved idly at the row of ships.
“That one. The Lady’s Light.”
Araminta had to smile at that. “Of course. But shouldn’t that be Lady’s Light Two?”
“If you wish it to be so, Dreamer.”
“No. The original has been unmade, and it was a redoubtable ship. Let us hope our own voyage is as successful.”
Ethan’s smile was tight. He clearly still couldn’t work out what Araminta’s game was, which was exactly how she wanted it.
The capsule lifted through a thick sea mist that was rolling in fast from the shore. As soon as they were above it, Araminta saw the change that had spread across the fields and forests that stretched away from the city’s perimeter. The lush green squares of grassland and crop fields had become a sickly yellow. Long lines of wildfire burned furiously through the forests.
“What happened?” she asked in confusion.
“Radiation downspill,” Ethan explained. “The orbital fight was directly above us. Those who understand such things explained to me last time that starship weapons today are extraordinarily powerful.”
“Last time?”
“Two ships fought above Ellezelin shortly before you came forward. We never did find out why.”
“Great”-she nearly said “Ozzie”-“Lady. What about people caught outside the city force field?” The mist as well, she realized, was a part of it: surface water flash-boiled by the energy deluge.
“Not good. A majority of Living Dream followers don’t have biononics or memorycell inserts.”
“Because the Waterwalker didn’t.” It almost came out with contempt.
“Quite. But the clinics will be able to re-life those that did.”
“May the Lady watch over the souls of those that didn’t,” she said, appalled by how pious she sounded.
“We’re a long way from the Lady,” Ethan said.
“Not for much longer.”
“Araminta is disgusted with them,” Neskia declared as the gifted vision swirled around her, partially blocking her view of the ship’s cabin. “It didn’t leak into the gaiafield, but I could tell how horrified she was when Ethan told her the moronic faithful didn’t even have memorycells because of their belief.”
“That’s reasonable enough,” Ilanthe said. “I’m equally disgusted. They chose to remain animal when they could elevate themselves. They certainly don’t deserve pity.”
Neskia’s head swept from side to side as her long neck undulated sinuously. “If she’s truly taken up the cause of Living Dream and become their Dreamer as she claims, then she would exhibit sympathy. This is simply evidence she is attempting some kind of subterfuge.”
“I fail to see what she can do. She is committed now, as few have ever been. She has claimed her position as the head of Living Dream on the promise of delivering Pilgrimage. To go back on her word now would bring dire personal consequences. At the least, Ethan would break into her mind and compel her to communicate with the Skylord. In that he would have the tacit support of most followers. Either way I gain entry to the Void.”
Exovision images showed Neskia the inversion core resting cleanly in the ship’s one and only cargo hold. There was no gaiafield connection, so she couldn’t determine the timbre of Ilanthe’s thoughts, if that was what they could still be called. “Her conversion was too swift, too complete. I do not believe in her.”
“Nor do I,” Ilanthe agreed. “But in gaining political power, choice has been taken from her. You heard her. She trusts the Void will defeat me.”
“And how did she find out about you? She was all alone and running from everyone.”
“I suspect the Silfen.”
“Or she has allies among the remnants of the factions. Gore is still at large, the Third Dreamer. That could indicate a connection.”
“Gore told Justine to travel to Makkathran. Whatever he’s planning, it involves a connection between him and his daughter, not Araminta. None of us knew her identity until a few days ago; she was never part of any of Gore’s schemes.”
“He’s going to go postphysical, isn’t he? That’s what he’s doing on the Anomine homeworld. It has to be; the Anomine elevation mechanism must still be there. Such an advance will grant him the power to ruin everything.”
“If that is his goal, he will fail.”
“How do you know?”
“I researched the Anomine elevation mechanism a century ago. It won’t elevate Gore.”
“Why not?” Neskia asked.
“He is not an Anomine.”
Neskia’s long throat trilled with delight. “I had no idea.”
“The process I am committing to is not one I undertook lightly. Every option was reviewed.”
“Of course, my apologies. But you really should get Marius to eliminate him.”
“Marius may or may not succeed in such an endeavor. Gore’s ship is undoubtedly the equal to the one Marius is flying, and the borderguards will intervene.”
“You can’t risk him interfering with Fusion,” Neskia insisted.
“You say that because you do not understand what I will initiate when we enter the Void. Gore and all the others are a complete irrelevance. Araminta is all that matters now.”
“We will initiate Fusion. I understand and approve.”
“No. Fusion was a mi
sdirection The inversion core is destined to seed a far greater revolution.”
Neskia became still, perturbed by this change of direction. Everything she had become was dedicated to the Accelerator goal of Fusion. “What?” she asked, mildly surprised that she was questioning Ilanthe’s purpose. But still …
“The Void is rightly feared because it requires energy from an external source in order to function. It is the epitome of entropy, the final enemy of all things. But the Void is a beautiful concept; mind over matter is the ultimate evolutionary trait. I propose to achieve the full function of the Void without the failing of its energy demands. That will be the Accelerator gift to existence itself.”
“In what way?”
“I was inspired by Ozzie. His mindspace works by altering the fundamental nature of spacetime to accommodate the telepathic function. I don’t know how he worked out the specific alteration to make such a thing viable, but its implementation was a phenomenal achievement, sadly underappreciated thanks to his sulky withdrawal from the Commonwealth. But to change the very nature of spacetime across hundreds of light-years is remarkable. It opened vistas of possibilities I had never conceived of before. I realized I should be aiming so much higher than simply wedding the Accelerator Faction to the Void. The potential of the Void is far greater. That it is locked away behind the boundary, dependent on a dwindling source of power, is a disaster for the evolution of sentience everywhere. It needs to be liberated for the boundary to be thrown down.”
The Evolutionary Void v-3 Page 47