Peter Hamilton - The Evolutionary Void

“Remember to ask it to pull us through somewhere close to Querencia,” Tomansio said. “We don’t want a forty-year voyage like Justine.” He didn’t actually give the cabin a pointed look, but everyone knew his opinion of the starship’s reliability. Perhaps it was the proximity of the Void, but they were now sharing quite intimately.

Araminta-two gave him a tight nod, then spoke to the Skylord. “We are here. Please call to the nucleus; please urge it to bring us into your universe so we may achieve fulfillment.”

“I have waited so long for this moment,” the Skylord said.

“When we come, we need to be near the solid world where humans lived.”

“There were several such worlds,” the Skylord replied.

Inigo gave Araminta-two a shocked look as her concentration faltered briefly.

“Shit,” Tomansio muttered.

“I thought there was only one,” Oscar said out loud.

“There’s more than one?” an incredulous Corrie-Lyn said. “How many were there?”

“It took Justine to Querencia,” Aaron said urgently. “Be specific.”

“What did she ask-” Araminta-two shook his head irritably and concentrated again. “The world we seek is the one where a member of our species is already waiting for us. She arrived recently. It has a city there, a city that did not arise within the Void.”

“I know the world you seek,” the Skylord replied.

“I hope it does,” Troblum said. “Because it’s starting.”

“Will you be there?” Araminta-two asked. “I need you there to guide me. Without your help I will never reach fulfillment.”

“I come,” the Skylord promised.

Hysradar showed them the surface of the boundary expanding at hyperluminal speed, a great protrusion heading up directly for the starship. Just like the planetary FTL wormhole but on an unimaginably vast scale. They watched in silence as the smooth crown opened. Once again the glorious undulating nebula light shone out into the wretched desolation of the Gulf, casting a single beam of elegant luminosity across the Mellanie’s Redemption .

The starship accelerated forward eagerly, passing through the small aperture. Behind it, the boundary closed again, shutting off the pale light. The pinnacle sank down again, merging back into the featureless surface of infinite darkness.

“So where are we?” Aaron demanded. The starship’s visual sensors were working perfectly, showing stars and nebulae all around. There was no sign of the boundary.

“Working on that,” Troblum said. He was sweating profusely.

“Well, whadda you know,” Tomansio said. A cup of tea was floating in midair, ten centimeters from his outstretched fingers. It lifted a little, then wiggled from side to side. He grinned wildly. His mind was radiating smugness and satisfaction for all of them to perceive.

“Oh, crap,” Corrie-Lyn exclaimed. Her mind shimmered rapidly in everyone’s farsight, its surface luster dimming as she ponderously fought down the exuberant emotions, shielding them from psychic perception like a mother folding her arms protectively around a crying babe. Images and memories persisted in flashing out: Edeard scrambling to shield his own thoughts, the techniques he employed. After a short while the surface of her mind hardened to an impermeable screen from which nothing leaked, not a single emotion or memory or sensation.

There was a long minute while everyone struggled with the same technique with varying degrees of success. No one was surprised when the two Dreamers shielded themselves perfectly. But no matter how hard he tried, Oscar simply couldn’t contain his ebullient thoughts; the best he could achieve was to tone them down a bit. “This group’s Edeard,” he said ruefully. “He could never protect himself fully. Personally, I see it as a sign of superiority to the lot of you.”

Everyone allowed a glimmer of amusement to trickle out. Except Troblum. His shield was darker than most, and the thoughts below were convoluted. His emotions didn’t match anything familiar.

Aaron was satisfied with his own protection, though the others were giving him curious looks. Their emotions were hurriedly wrapped away from perception. “What?” he asked. His longtalk matched his voice in intensity.

“It’s like you’re at war,” Corrie-Lyn said. “Your thoughts are shining out, yet they make no sense because they have so many contrary facets. You are anger and conflict.”

He gave her his old concessionary grin. “But I still function.”

“So?” Tomansio asked, his inexorable curiosity infecting them all. “We’re in the Void. What next?”

“Makkathran,” Aaron said solemnly.

Tomansio let out a growl of frustration.

Araminta-two looked at something far beyond the cabin’s bulkheads. “It’s here,” he said in wonder.

Aaron’s farsight felt the Skylord approach, a benevolent concentration of thoughts that intimidated through sheer size. Somehow it seemed to negate worry, sharing satisfaction on a level that was impossible to refute.

“You are here,” it told Araminta-two.

“Part of me. The rest will follow as I bring those who seek fulfillment.”

“My kindred welcome you. They welcome those who are to join us here in the Void.”

“Makkathran,” Aaron whispered.

“Will you guide us to the world we spoke of before?”

“Yes.”

Aaron instinctively reached out to grab hold of something and steady himself. Mellanie’s Redemption was twisting around, gravity shifting in strange swelling motions. Exoimage relays from the fuselage cameras showed him the huge crystalline folds of the Skylord’s body rotating spryly against the flexing ribbon of violet phosphorescence that was the Buluku nebula. Then the stars ahead were brightening as the Skylord executed its temporal acceleration function, and the starship was flashing toward the hot blue light points at close to lightspeed. Behind them, the Void shifted down to a dull carmine.

Araminta-two inhaled sharply, his hand pressing flat on his chest.

“What’s wrong?” Oscar asked him.

“It’s very weird, like I’m being torn in two. You seem fast, yet I’m not slow, or part of me is. The Pilgrimage fleet is hardly moving until I concentrate on it. Arrrgh. Ozziedamn, this is so strange.”

“Temporal rate difference,” Troblum said. “You are conscious on both sides of the Void boundary, which means you’re living at two different speeds. It will be hard to reconcile.”

“You’d better go into suspension,” Tomansio said.

“No!”

The spike of alarm from Araminta-two’s mind was enough to still them all.

“Sorry, but no,” he said. “I-this body-has to live through this. If this me goes into suspension, that means it’ll be just her left; I’ll be out there all alone. If they come for me with those brain infiltrator things , I won’t have any refuge.”

Tomansio nodded in understanding. “How far are we from Querencia?” he asked Troblum.

“We’re heading for a star system about three light-months away,” Troblum said. “I guess it’s Querencia.”

“Three months. Well, I suppose it’s better than three years.”

“Or thirty,” Oscar said. He was leaking sympathy and concern.

Araminta-two fumbled for his hand. “Thank you, Oscar.”

Now embarrassment was added to the emotional blend he was betraying. “I think I’d better head straight back into suspension,” Oscar said. “Who else?”

“Us as well,” Tomansio said.

Inigo and Corrie-Lyn consulted on some unknown level. “We’ll sleep it out,” Inigo said. “There’s nothing for me to do until we reach Makkathran. Is there?”

“No,” Aaron confirmed. “How about you?” he asked Troblum.