The Dreaming Void v-1

by Peter Hamilton

  'What have they done?

  'It's a surprise for you. And I know how you hate surprises.

  'Not always, Oscar assured him. 'Depends if it's good or bad. What's this one?

  'Oh no. I'm just telling you there is a surprise for you. I don't want you to be upset that it's there, that's all'

  Oscar used a macrocellular cluster to connect to the house's net. Whatever was waiting inside had been skilfully blocked. That would be Anja, who developed commercial neural routines. She was one of the best on the planet.

  'You have the strangest logic I've ever known, Oscar said.

  Jesaral smiled broadly. 'Come on! I can't wait. He tugged at Oscar's arm, his outpouring of enthusiasm shining like sunrise.

  They hurried to the base of the pillar and climbed the wide spiral stair. It brought them out into a small vestibule, planted with colourful bushes from several worlds, their flowers reaching for the open sky above. Ten doors opened off it. Jesaral led the way into their main lounge. In contrast to the exterior, the lounge was clad in caranwood, a local variety that was a rich gold-brown.

  The grain of the planks had been blended so skilfully it looked as if they were inside a giant hollowed-out trunk. Its furniture was scarlet and gold, contributing to the sumptuous feel.

  Dushiku was waiting in the middle of the big room, holding out a tumbler of malt whisky, three ice cubes. He had a mischievous smile on his broad face. 'Welcome home.

  'Thanks. Oscar took the drink wearily.

  'I see Jesaral's restraint is as strong as ever.

  'I didn't tell him, Jesaral protested.

  'So? Oscar enquired.

  Dushiku raised an eyebrow, and half turned, indicating the balcony beyond the glass wall at the far end of the lounge. Anja was standing out there, leaning on the rail as she spoke about some aspect of the gardens below. Her laughter-filled voice was just audible through the open door. Oscar knew the tone well, she was playing perfect hostess: marking her territory. Anja was astonishingly beautiful, a beauty which took a full third of her salary to maintain. Two visits to a clinic each year were considered an essential minimum, for beauty was fluid and fashions were treacherous ephemera even on Orakum. She'd returned three weeks ago from her last treatments, showing off her reduced height and dark satin-texture skin. Her face was all gentle curves veiled by a mane of thick chestnut hair swishing down past her shoulders. Huge fawn-coloured eyes peered innocently out of the shadows, projecting a girlish innocence complemented by a perpetual ingenue effervescence into the gaiafield. Her clothes were deceptively simple, a scarlet T-shirt and dark-blue swirling skirt demonstrating her compact figure's expensive femininity.

  Yet for once, Anja wasn't impressing the person she was talking to. Oscar watched the other woman leaning on the rail. Easily half-a-head shorter than Anja, wearing a modern white dress with a slight surface shimmer, and a rust-red short-sleeved jacket. Stylish without Anja's feminine overload. She wasn't responding with the kind of attention Anja was used to extracting from everyone she came across. He could tell. After ten years, Anja's body language, the tone of her voice were an open book.

  And the more she failed to impress, the more huffy she got. He even allowed some of his amusement to trickle out into the gaiafield.

  Anja must have sensed it. Her full lips hardened into a rebuke as Oscar walked towards the balcony. 'Oscar, darling, I've been talking to an old friend of yours.

  The other person on the balcony turned round. Smiled shrewdly.

  Oscar dropped the tumbler as his hands along with every other part of his body were shocked into loss of sensation. The crystal smashed, sending the ice cubes bouncing across the polished wood.

  'Hello, Oscar, Paula Myo said.

  'Holy shit!

  'Long time no see.

  Oscar couldn't even grunt.

  Alarm was starting to seep into the gaiafield as his life partners took in the tableau.

  'You two… Jesaral said, his finger rising to point accusingly at Paula. 'I thought—

  'It's all right, Oscar managed to croak.

  'What is this? Jesaral said accusingly to Paula. 'You said you were friends.

  'We used to be. A long time ago.

  'That old excuse. Again! Everything happened before I was born.

  'Everything did, Oscar said. His u-shadow summoned a maidbot to clean up the broken tumbler. Only then did he finally manage a weak smile. 'How are you doing, Paula?

  'Same as usual.

  'Yeah. She hadn't changed. Not physically. Nothing was different, except maybe her straight dark hair was a couple of centimetres longer. Unlike him, who'd been given a great new Advancer body, based on his own DNA then enriched with all the macrocellular clusters, and stronger bones, more efficient organs, and greater longevity. After eighty-six years, he still wasn't anywhere near needing rejuvenation, although his face was now starting to show signs of his newly lived years — as Anja never tired of pointing out. But her… He guessed she must be Higher now. Somehow he couldn't see her visiting clinics for vanity's sake.

  'You do know each other, then? Dushiku asked uncertainly.

  'Yes. Oscar cleared his throat. 'Could you give us a moment, please?

  His life partners exchanged troubled glances, flooding the gaiafield with concern and considerable irritation. 'We'll be outside, Anja said, patting his arm as she went past. 'Just yell.

  The maidbot waddled into the lounge and started sucking up the malt. Oscar backed up to a settee and sat down hard. The numbness was dissipating, replaced by a growing anger. He glared at Paula. 'One thousand one hundred years. Thanks for that.

  'I recovered your memorycell.

  'You put it on trial!

  'You're as alive now as the day you flew the hyperglider. That's more than can be said for your victims at Abadan.

  'Jesus fucking wept! Will you stop persecuting me.

  'I can't make you feel guilty. You do that to yourself.

  'Yeah yeah. He sank deeper into the cushioning. 'What the hell are you doing here?

  'You live well' She turned her head, studying the lounge. 'Anja was quite proud of the house. I can see why.

  'My CST R&R pension fund was paid over into a trust the day the trial ended, courtesy of Wilson. You want to know what one thousand one hundred years' interest looks like? You're standing in it. Bloody inflation! I should have been able to buy a planet'

  'And your life partners; they're good people. Jesaral is rather young, isn't he?

  'Yeah, Oscar growled at her. 'He's also got a very big cock.

  Paula smiled. 'Did you ever get in touch with Wilson when you were re-lifed?

  'He left a message. So did Anna. They both downloaded into ANA long ago. Which frankly I don't admire. Look, this is bullshit; what the fuck do you want?

  'I need you do a job for me.

  Oscar wouldn't have believed it possible. He was in the same room as Paula Myo, and laughing at her. 'Oh boy, did you ever lose it over the centuries. You want me to do a job for you?. You've got to be fucking joking.

  Paula's answering smile veered towards immoral. 'Exactly.

  Oscar's humour vanished abruptly, leaving him with a very queasy sensation heating his stomach. 'Oh shit: you're not joking.

  'Of course not. It's a perfect arrangement. Who would ever suspect such a thing?

  'No. No chance. Go and blackmail someone else. I'd rather go back into suspension.

  'Come on, Oscar, you're not lesaral so stop acting like him. I'm not here to threaten, I'm here to ask because I know you and I know what you want.

  'You do not know me, lady!

  Paula leaned in towards him, her eyes shining. 'Oh yes I do, Oscar. We spent the last few days of your life together. I nearly died, and you did. Don't tell me we don't understand each other. You martyred yourself so that the human race could survive. You are an honourable man, Oscar. Screwed up by guilt, but honourable.

  Oscar was doing his best not to be intimidated by her. 'That was a mad si
tuation. It won't ever happen again.

  'Oh really? Who do you think I work for these days?

  'I'll take a wild guess and say ANA. You never change.

  'You're right about ANA, but wrong about change. I am different.

  'Yeah, it looks it. The same job for thirteen hundred years. I barely recognized you. Paula, you can't change, that is you.

  'Far Away altered me. It nearly killed me, but I understood I had to adapt. So I resequenced my DNA to edit out the compulsive behaviour trait.

  'It shows.

  'Self-determination can overcome artificial nature.

  'I'm sure the old nature versus nurture philosophers will be delighted to hear it. Why don't you call them and let them know? Oh, yes, right. They're all dead for two thousand years.

  'You're trying to avoid answering me. Trying to justify your fright to yourself.

  'Wrong, lady. Utterly totally, wrong. The answer is no. No I will not help you. Would you like that clarifying? No.

  'How bad do you think it is, that I'm here to ask you?

  'Don't care. I won't help you.

  'It's the Pilgrimage. Oscar, I'm worried about it. Really worried.

  He stared up at her, not sure if he could take many more shocks. 'Look, I've followed the story closely enough, who hasn't? The Navy will stop the Ocisen Empire dead in its tracks. ANA will halt the Pilgrimage ships. It's not stupid. The Void will eat up half the galaxy if Inigo's dumbass sheep ever get inside.

  'And you think that's all there is to it? Oscar, you and I were there with Nigel before we travelled to Far Away. You know how complex that situation was, how many factors were at play. Well, this is worse, a lot worse. The Void is only a peripheral event, a convenient gadfly; this is the Factions finally marching out to fight. This is a battle for the destiny of humanity. Our soul will be decided by the outcome.

  'I can't help, he said, mortified by the way it was nearly a wail. 'I'm a pilot for Christ's sake.

  'Oh Oscar. Her voice was rich with sympathy. She knelt down in front of him and grasped his hands. Her fingers were warm to the touch. 'Enough humility. It's your character I desperately need help from. I know that once you agree I don't have to worry about the problem any more. You won't quit on me, and that's what's important.

  'This is a nostalgia trip for you. I'm just a pilot.

  'You were just a Navy captain, but you saved us from the Starflyer. I'm going to tell you what I'm asking you to do. And then I'm going to tell you why you'll do it. If you want to hate me for making you face reality then that's fine by me, too.

  He shook his hands loose from her grip. 'Say your piece, then go-

  'The Factions know me, they watch me as I watch their agents. So I can't have them knowing that I am desperate to locate the Second Dreamer.

  Oscar just laughed. It trailed off into a near-whimper. 'Find the Second Dreamer? Me?

  'Yes. And you know why that'll work?

  'Because no one will be expecting it. He made it sound like a schoolkid reciting a useless fact.

  'Correct. And do you know why you'll do it for me — and please don't shoot the messenger.

  He braced himself. Surely there was nothing else in his life she could threaten him with? Did I erase a memory? My God, was there another Abadan? 'What?

  'Because you're bored shitless with this dreary monotonous life you sleepwalk through.

  Oscar opened his mouth to shout at her. Tell her she'd finally flipped. That she was so fantastically wrong. That his life was rich. That he had people who loved him. That every day was a joy. That he never wanted to go back to the crazy days of the Starflyer War. That he'd already endured all the terror and wild exhilaration one life could possibly contain. That such things were best left to the new generation. But for some reason his head had fallen into his hands, and he was sighing heavily. He couldn't look at her. And he could certainly never look at his life partners. 'I can't tell them that, he whispered painfully. 'How can I? They'll believe it's their fault.

  Paula stood up. A hand rested on his shoulder with gentle sympathy. 'You want me to do it?

  'No. He shook his head. Wiped the back of his hand across his eyes to remove the annoying smears of moisture. 'No. I'm not that much of a coward.

  'Whatever cover story you need, you've got it. I can arrange… anything, basically.

  'Uh huh.

  'There's a starship waiting for you at the local spaceport. She smiled mischievously. 'An ultradrive.

  Oscar smiled faintly, feeling the joy stirring deep inside him. 'Ultradrive? Well at least you don't think I'm a cheap whore.

  * * * * *

  This wasn't how Araminta expected to be returning to the Suvorov continent, sitting in an ageing carry capsule as it flew across the Great Cloud Ocean, lower and slower than every other capsule on the planet. It didn't exactly smack of style. She'd always promised herself she'd only ever return to her birth continent when she could step out of some swank luxury capsule and smile condescendingly around at Langham and the family's business.

  Not there just yet.

  Unfortunately, Likan's estate was on Suvorov. Understandably, as that was where Viota's capital, Ludor, was situated. Likan wasn't a provinces kind of person, he had to be near the action. So back across the ocean she went. With a baggage hold packed with her best clothes, and a deepening sense of anxiety.

  She was genuinely interested in the Sheldonite's abilities. To get to his level in under a hundred and fifty years illustrated a phenomenal achievement. There was a lot she could learn from him, providing she could get him talking.

  Then there was the whole Sheldonite culture thing. Thousands of people on hundreds of External Worlds trying to emulate their ancient hyper-capitalist idol. An emulation dangerously close to blind worship, she thought. But she was willing to suspend judgement until she experienced it first hand. Maybe this was the route she should be taking. Even Bovey couldn't deny Sheldonism was the pinnacle of business culture. Successful Sheldonism, that was. There were enough failed adherents littered across the External Worlds.

  And finally the harem. Typical male fantasy; a rich man making his dreams come true. Yet a lot more common than in Sheldon's day; group-life-partner relationships were growing in popularity among the External Worlds. And she was hardly in any position to criticize; what she'd enjoyed with Bovey was essentially the same arrangement. So here she was, technically free and single, and still interested in experimenting sexually to see what suited her. She didn't think this was going to be her, but she'd surprised herself before with Bovey.

  A last wild fling, then. So whatever I discover, this weekend will he win-win.

  With that delinquent thought warming her, the capsule finally made land and began to fly over Likan's estate. He owned an area of a hundred thousand square miles, taking in a long stretch of coastline — developed with resort complexes. Massive tracts of farmland with square-mile fields, growing every imaginable luxury crop, the kind nobody produced in a culinary unit, tended by over a million agribots; all processed in immaculately hygienic cybernated factories and sold under his own brands.

  Then there was Albany, his industrial complex. Set on a flat plain, it was a square eight miles to a side; tall boxy buildings laid out in a perfect grid; every one a factory or processing plant. A spaceport spread out of one side, long rows of landing pads stretching across the green meadows to a nearby river. Ocean barges clotted the water, while fat cargo starships formed near-solid lines stretching up through the sky. No humans actually lived in Albany itself; the technicians who kept it running were all housed in dormitory towns twenty miles away. She flew over one of them, surprised by how nice it looked, with large houses and plenty of green space, ornate civic buildings providing every amenity.

  He owns it all. And more: he created it. Now that is real vision.

  Her capsule's net was queried by local traffic control. She supplied her identity certificate and received a descent vector.

  Likan's home was actual
ly three separate buildings. Two of them were on the shore of a lake ten miles long. One was a giant chateau made of stone which must have had five hundred rooms. Araminta had seen smaller villages. The second, almost opposite the first, was an ultramodern ovoid of shimmering opalescence that seemed to dip down into the water as it lay longside across the ground. The third was small by comparison, just a wooden lodge atop the cliffs of a rugged island.

  The capsule landed outside the ovoid. Araminta was quietly grateful. She wanted to see what it was like inside, if there were any design concepts she could use.

  Two of the harem were waiting to greet her when she stepped out. Clemance, a slim teenager, dressed in a simple white shirt and blue cotton shorts. She had a fresh face, freckled on her nose and brow, an eager smile, and fair hair that was barely styled. Not quite what Araminta had expected. While the other, Marak-ata, was tall and classically beautiful, with ebony skin that gleamed in the sunlight. Her scarlet gown probably cost more than every item Araminta had brought put together. And that's what she wears in the middle of the afternoon. Subtle cosmetic scales highlighted jade eyes and a wide mouth. She didn't smile, her whole attitude was one of cool amusement.

  Clemance bounded forward, her smile growing even wider. She threw her arms around Araminta. 'Likan has told us all about you. It's so great to finally get to meet you.

  A mildly startled Araminta gave the girl a tentative hug back. What did he say?

  'To be careful, Marakata said. She raised an elegant eyebrow, observing Araminta's response.

  'He says you're really ambitious, and smart, and attractive, and your own boss— Clemance seemed to run out of breath. 'Just all-round fabulous.

  Araminta finally managed to disentangle herself from the girl. 'I didn't realize I'd made such an impression.

  'Likan makes very fast assessments, Marakata said.

  'Do you? Araminta asked, as cool as she could.

  It actually drew a small smile from the imposing woman. 'I take my time and get it absolutely right.