Alastair Reynolds - Century Rain

“We’ll know one day, won’t we? Floyd’s people won’t take long to open their eyes. They must have seen what the wound did to their sky. If they puzzle over that long enough, sooner or later someone’s going to make the right connections.”

“And then it’ll be them knocking to be let out, rather than us knocking to be let in.”

“Or they won’t knock at all,” Auger said. “Do baby birds knock to get the mother bird to let them out of the egg?”

“I confess I’ve never seen one,” Tunguska said.

“An egg? Or a bird?”

“Either. But I take your point. The one thing we’d be very unwise to do is underestimate, the capacity of Floyd’s people. Something very like his culture did, after all, give rise to our own.”

“The poor fools,” Auger said.

A little while later, they reached the outgoing portal. A chirrup from the automated monitoring station informed them that a real-time communication relay had been established with Polity space.

“It’s Maurya Skellsgard,” Tunguska said. “Shall I put her on?”

“Please,” Auger said.

The transmission quality was poor: routing the signal through multiple portal connections was difficult at the best of times, and almost impossible given the chaos back around the Sun. Skellsgard’s image kept flickering or going sound-only.

“I’ll keep this brief,” she said. “We’re only holding things together with spit and prayers at this end. These Slasher technicians are good, but they can’t work miracles. If the link fails, we’ll just have to catch up with each other when you make it back home. In the meantime, everyone’s very proud of you. I heard about Floyd, too. I’m sorry it had to end that way for you both.”

“I’m all right,” Auger said.

“You don’t sound it.”

“OK, I’m a wreck. I was never fond of goodbyes, under any circumstances. Why the hell did I have to like him, Maurya? Why couldn’t he have been a prick I couldn’t wait to get rid of?”

“That’s the way the universe works, honeybunch. Better get used to it, because it’s going to be around for a good few Hubble times.”

Auger forced out a laugh. “Just what I need—a sympathetic shoulder.”

Skellsgard’s voice became serious. “Look, the main thing is that the two of you are safe. Given the range of outcomes that were available to us a couple of days ago, I’d say that has to count as a result.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Her thoughts kept returning to Tunguska’s speculation about the quantum state of the ALS, but she didn’t want to think about that now. “Anyway, it’s good to know you’re OK as well. I’m glad you made it. How are things back home?”

“Dicey.”

“I’ll need calibration on that. Is that better or worse than a day ago?”

“I guess you’d have to say it was better, by about the width of one of Planck’s toenail clippings. The good guys on both sides have brokered some kind of… well, I hesitate to call it a ceasefire just yet. Call it a reduction in the scale of hostilities. That has to be something, right? And of course some of us have already managed to put aside our differences, or you and I wouldn’t be having this long-distance chat.”

“What about the Earth?”

“Tanglewood reined in the nuclear strikes. The place is going to glow nicely in the dark for a few centuries, but there should still be some ruins worth poking around in.”

“I guess we have to take what we’re given and be glad it’s not worse. When all this is over, I’m still going to have to carry my begging bowl to the funding committees.”

“Actually, Auger, that’s the reason I called.” Skellsgard’s permanent scowl softened fractionally. “I have some news for you. Not quite sure what to make of it yet, but I do have my suspicions. This is, needless to say, about as preliminary as it gets.”

“Tell me,” Auger said.

“You know what they say about an ‘ill wind?’ ” She waited a moment for Auger’s reaction, but her face remained blank. “Well, never mind. The point is, we’re all upset because we lost the Phobos portal. I’ve looked at the numbers, too—beefed up with some hot new Slasher know-how—and it really does look as if we’ve blown that particular connection.”

“We shouldn’t give up,” Auger said firmly. “We should always keep trying to reinstate it. E2 is too valuable to give up on.”

“No one’s going to give up on it, not while there are still so many loopholes in the theory. But for the time being it may not be our highest priority.”

The image fuzzed and gradually reassembled, block by block.

“What have you got?” Auger asked.

“When the Phobos portal blew,” Skellsgard said, “something weird happened. We didn’t notice it at the time—our monitoring equipment just wasn’t sensitive enough. But the Slashers? Different story. They had the whole system laced with sensors tuned to pick up portal signatures. For years they hadn’t detected a squeak; nothing to hint that there were any portals other than the one on Sedna and the one in Phobos.”

“And now?”

“When the Phobos link died, it must have given off some kind of death-scream vibration that drew a sympathetic resonance from other dormant links in the vicinity. The sensors picked up faint signals from fifteen different locations around the system.”

Auger wondered whether she’d heard Skellsgard correctly. “Fifteen?”

“That may not be the end of it. The weakest signals were at the limit of detection: could be there are other sources they missed entirely. The whole damn system could be riddled with portals we never even suspected were there. We’d never have found them by accident: they’re all buried underground, on anonymous little iceballs no one ever paid much attention to before.”

“Jesus,” Auger said.

“Jesus squared. I hope you’re impressed.”

“I am.”

Skellsgard smiled. “I figured you needed cheering up. Like I said, it’s preliminary. But as soon as things simmer down around here, we’re going to put together a joint expedition and dig down until we find one of these things. Then we’re going to switch it on and see where it takes us.”

“That’s a big question.”

“I know. Out into the galaxy? But what would be the point of that? We already have the Sedna portal for that. Me, I think they’ll take us somewhere else entirely.”

At first, Auger fought to keep the excitement from her voice. Then she decided she didn’t care. What was the point? Skellsgard knew exactly how she’d be feeling.

“Inside another ALS?”

“That’s my best guess. We know there are a lot of them out there. We know one of them contained a snapshot of Earth from the twentieth century. Why not other spheres containing other snapshots? There could be dozens of Earths out there, all frozen at different instants in history. One portal might be our ticket into the Middle Ages. Another might put us into the middle of the Triassic.”

“I need to be on that team,” Auger said.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Just remember to bring your best digging clothes: we’re not likely to come out so close to a tunnel the next time.”

“I hope you’re right about this.”

“I do, too,” Skellsgard said, just before the communications link finally gave up the ghost. “But even if I’m not, I don’t think either of us will have to worry about funding committees for a little while.”

Floyd slowed his stroll, coming to a stop under a streetlamp. He reached out and took hold of the poster gummed to the lamp’s fluted shaft and pulled it away, carefully this time, so as not to tear the thing in two. He held the sheet up to the light, peering at the printed image through a shifting veil of fog.