Peter Hamilton - The Evolutionary Void

She thought she could see something moving on the other side of the bright shaft of light filling the center of the church. Farsight and retinal zoom functions found nothing, but she was uncertain. Something about the church was unnerving her, like a deep harmonic that she couldn’t quite hear.

Stupid. Come on, girl. Pull yourself together .

She marched straight through the intense splash of light. The giant white marble statue of the Lady had survived, standing alone where the altar once had rested. One of the cloisters opened up behind it, and again she thought there was some movement in the shadows. Goose bumps were rising along her arms. She moved forward, more cautiously this time. Her third hand pulled gingerly at the secure flap on top of her holster. Just in case …

She moved into the relative gloom of the cloister, allowing her retinas to adjust. Farsight showed her there was nothing but empty air. Then her father stepped out from behind a pillar twenty meters away.

Justine let out a small sob of relief and took one step forward before freezing. A big alien had emerged beside him.

“Dad?”

“Hello, darling. Glad you made it here. Not that I was getting worried, but …”

He smiled his half smile, the one that was so familiar and welcome that she just wanted to rush over and hug him. However-“Is that an Anomine?”

“Yep. Meet Tyzak. He’s slowly showing an interest in our story.”

The Anomine twittered away in its high-pitched voice.

“He says he’s pleased to see you,” Gore translated.

Justine sighed. “And here I was just starting to think everything was making sense.”

“Trust me. You’re doing fine. That was a good landing, by the way. Nicely judged.”

“What’s happening, Dad? Why am I here?”

“You’re my link into the Void. And that makes you critical. People are on their way.”

“The Pilgrimage fleet?”

“Yeah; they made it past the warrior Raiel. But there’s someone else, too. That’s important, Justine. They should arrive before the fleet. They may even be in the Void already.”

“Okay,” she said uncertainly. “Who?”

“The other Dreamers.”

“You’re kidding?” That made little sense. “Really?”

“Yeah. An old contact told me they got ahead or at least made it to the boundary. I don’t know anything more. But if they made it through, they’ll head for Makkathran.”

“Why, though? Why them?”

“Because they’re what I need in place along with you.”

“All right, Dad, I’ll watch for them.”

“Thank you.”

“Have you got any idea of time scale?”

“Not really. I’m sorry, darling; you’ll just have to sit it out.”

“Do I need to get anything ready?”

“No. Just survive, however long it takes.”

“I was thinking I might try and communicate with the city mind. Drill down into the deep tunnels or something,” she said with a hopeful tone.

“No point.”

“Can’t you tell me anything?”

“I will, I promise. But I’m contending with a small local problem that might become unpleasantly physical if I show my hand too soon. And I should warn you that Ilanthe is with the Pilgrimage fleet.”

“Ha! That bitch. I’ll sort her out if she tries anything with me.”

Gore’s golden features reflected anxiety. “No, you won’t, darling. She’s not what she used to be. She’s taken on a different aspect which might be trouble, a lot of trouble. Even the Silfen are worried about her and what she’s doing.”

“Oh. Okay.” Justine didn’t like the sound of that at all. It took a great deal for Gore to show caution.

“I love you, darling.”

“Dad. Be careful, please.”

“My middle name.”

“I thought that was ‘Bulldozer.’”

“I hyphenate a lot these days. Sign of the times.” He raised his arm and gradually turned translucent. After a while he was gone altogether, and Tyzak with him.

Justine stared at the space where they’d been, then shook her head as if coming out of a trance. “Oh, crap.” She tried to press down on the sensation of anxiety without any real success. But at least he’d given her a clear objective. Stay alive . “Nice to know,” she muttered. Not understanding came hard to Justine; it showed an alarming lack of control, and that just didn’t sit right at all.

Justine turned and walked back out into the cavernous central section of the church. If she was going to be staying in Makkathran for any serious length of time, there were practical aspects she’d have to work out, not to mention contingencies should the Silverbird ’s systems eventually fail. Food was the primary long-term requirement. She was sure there had been some sheep and goats roaming around on the Iguru, and seven days ago she’d actually glimpsed what looked like chickens on Low Moat. There must be seeds she could cultivate, too. The Grand Families all had kitchen gardens in their mansions; the plants must have survived in some form. And fishing … She grinned. Fishing would be easy with a third hand.

It wouldn’t be easy, but she could survive. After all, the city must have been in a similar unkempt state when Rah and the Lady arrived. Justine smiled up at the Lady’s face high above her. “And look what you did with the place,” she told the statue. The Lady gazed down with her unchanging somber expression. Justine’s smile began to fade. There was something about those features now that she could study them closely-after all, Edeard hadn’t been a particularly regular visitor to the church. She had to dig deep amid memories she hadn’t realized her body had retained, but there were connections sparking away in her subconscious. “No,” she whispered in shock. This Lady as captured by the sculptor was a lot older than the time Justine had met her, and she’d had very different hair back then, not to mention figure. “Oh, no.” Justine’s eyes began to water as the sheer emotional power of recognition engulfed her. “It is, isn’t it?” Her shoulders started to shake, and she giggled. “It is you. Holy crap, it’s really you!” Giggles gave way to hysterical laughter; she actually had to hug her belly it hurt so much. She couldn’t stop. This was the Lady, venerated and worshipped by two separate civilizations. The epitome of dignity and grace. “YES!” she yelled out, and punched the air. Then the joyful laughter made her double up again. She waved her hands helplessly, trying to wipe the tears away.

Well, what do you know, the universe has a sense of irony, after all .

THE THIN SLEET OF BLUE SPARKS cascading through hyperspace’s pseudofabric faded away as power was withdrawn from the ultradrive engines of the Lady’s Light , and the ship dropped back into spacetime. Blackness pressed in against the vast transparent wall at the front of the observation deck. Radiation from the glowing loop of interstellar detritus behind them struck the ordinary force field that was protecting them from the hostility of the Gulf, creating a disagreeable claret glow around the edges of the transparency. Araminta put on a pair of sunglasses and stared through the polarized lenses at the greater darkness four light-years ahead.

Ethan stood beside her, immaculate in his Cleric robes, leaking awe and expectation into the gaiafield. Taranse, Darraklan, and Rincenso waited loyally behind their Dreamer, also subdued at the sight of the barrier they had doubted they would ever witness for themselves.

“We’re here,” Araminta told the Skylord. “Ask the Heart to reach for us, please.”