Peter Hamilton - The Evolutionary Void

“No. I’m sorry, Edeard. He was only ever here that one time.”

“I see. Thank you for your honesty.”

“Waterwalker,” Aaron said. “Can you take us to the Heart, please.”

The edge in his voice, the way his raging thoughts threatened to burst out of his head-it made Edeard nervous. “I understand the need for the Void to be contained. If I could do so, I would.”

“There is a way to speak with it,” Aaron said through clenched teeth. “Once we get there, I know there is.”

“How?”

Aaron slammed his hands onto his face. Once, twice, three times. Blood trickled out of his nose where he’d hit it. “She won’t tell me!” he yelled furiously. “I can’t find it anymore.”

Edeard’s third hand gripped Aaron’s arms, forcing them down.

“This is my mission! I am the mission. I have an objective. I must be strong. She likes that. She loves me.”

Tomansio stood next to the stricken agent. “Hey, it’s okay.” He reached out. “We have two starships and the Waterwalker. We can take-”

Aaron’s muscles went slack, and Tomansio caught him as he pitched forward, unconscious.

“How did you do that?” Edeard asked.

“Very basic tranquilizer. Lucky our biononics are degraded here. Would have been quite a scrap otherwise.”

“I see.” Which he didn’t quite. But these warriors from the outside universe were formidable. And they had honor. Somehow he was reminded of Colonel Larose from the Makkathran militia.

“Now what?” Corrie-Lyn asked with a sigh. “Our pet psycho is going to go quantumbusting when he wakes up.”

“I’d hate to try a neural infiltration in this environment,” Tomansio said. “The first glitch and we’d probably rip his brain apart. Besides, I think the way his mind was reconfigured implies it was resistant to that kind of inquisition. The information is hidden in the subconscious.”

“We do have the two ships,” Oscar said. “And we know we have to fly to the Heart. Our problem is always going to be guidance.” He grinned at Edeard. “I guess that’s where you come in.”

“It comes down to fulfillment,” Inigo said. “If the Skylord believes Edeard to be fulfilled, it will guide him.”

“His soul,” Corrie-Lyn said sharply.

“We don’t know that,” Inigo said. “Humans have never been able to fly around inside the Void before. Maybe it’ll show a living body the way.”

“I’ll ask,” Araminta-two said.

His thoughts were gifted in a fashion Edeard was unaccustomed to; the clarity he was given exceeded any he’d known before. It was hard to throw off the sensation that he was actually in Araminta-two’s body, breathing together, feeling together. And there was the shadow perception distracting him, standing in a giant room of metal and glass, watching the nebulae outside. A flock of Skylords guiding the incredible starships. That mind’s perception shimmered underneath the connection Araminta had with the Skylord leading the fleet and its awareness of the Void.

“Do I have to abandon my body to be guided to the Heart?” she asked.

“You have to be fulfilled,” the Skylord replied lovingly. “Then I will guide you. Soon, I feel. Your mind is strong; you believe you know your way. You understand yourself. You lack only surety.”

“If I have that, if I gain what I need for fulfillment, would you take me, the living me, in this ship?”

“I would do that.”

Edeard shivered as the outlandish gifting ended. It was as if a gust of winter air had squalled around the church. He gave Araminta-two a curious look. “You can longtalk across the Void?” Such strength of mind was incredible.

“Not really. That was my other body. And as for the Skylord, we are joined as you and Inigo once were.”

“I see,” he lied. My other body! He’d said it so casually. How he wished for Macsen at this time-Macsen, who would make light of such confusion with a quip and a laugh, and the world would be right again.

“So now we find out if this Edeard is fulfilled,” Oscar said. “And if he is, you fly him to the Heart.”

“It would seem that way,” Inigo agreed.

“Not yet,” Justine said. She stood up. “This is too important for maybes. We need a very clear understanding of what we’re supposed to achieve here. Follow me.” And she walked up the steps toward the church’s open entrance.

Edeard observed everyone producing puzzled looks behind the blonde girl. A few shrugs were exchanged, but they all trooped dutifully after her. Justine’s tone had been commanding.

When they’d been introduced, Edeard had been dismissive of the sultry girl, weary, even. Because of her crude clothing and wild hair, she reminded him of the real bandits who lived in the wilds beyond Rulan province. But as the afternoon wore on, he’d revised his opinion. For a start, she was one of the Commonwealth eternals. She might look as if she was barely out of her teens, but he knew she was older than anyone who’d ever lived in Makkathran. And despite her lack of clothing, she had a dignity and poise that would’ve intimidated Mistress Florrel. He also strongly suspected she was tough enough to rip Ranalee to shreds in any kind of fight, fair or otherwise.

The air inside the church was cooler than outside. Seeing the interior bare apart from the big statue of the Lady was odd, emphasizing how cut off and alone he was now. A mere day ago in his own time he’d been Mayor, and the city bent to his will. These people meant well, he knew, but he couldn’t help the resentment at the way they’d summoned him out of his true life. If it had been anyone but Inigo-but then, only Inigo could do such a thing.

Stranger than the naked church was the golden man standing in the middle, waiting for them. He was visible only because of some strangely pervasive gifting from Justine that he couldn’t quite shield himself from, yet his farsight found nothing where the man stood, not at first. “A soul,” Edeard exclaimed when he intensified his perception.

“A dream, actually. I’m Gore. Pleased to finally meet you, Waterwalker. You’re a very impressive man.”

“Gore is the one who guided us all here,” Inigo explained lightly. “By various methods. Not all of them pleasant.”

“Just making sure you don’t run out on your responsibilities, sonny.”

“My father,” Justine said proudly.

“You need to keep Aaron under,” Gore told Tomansio. “His neural reconditioning was never going to be strong enough to withstand an encounter with the Cat. I wasn’t expecting that. Goddamn Ilanthe.”

“Lennox,” Tomansio said coldly. “His name is Lennox. One of our founders. As such, very important to all Knights Guardian. What have you done to him?”

“Exactly what he asked,” Gore said. “Christ knows what kind of number the Cat worked on him, but he was a nearly total basket case when my people recovered him. We erased what we could of that old personality, but the damage had seeped down into his subconscious. That can normally be suppressed, providing it doesn’t receive too many associative triggers. But as for an out-and-out cure, forget it. I did what I could. I patched him back up and sent him out doing what he loved, what he was born to do. He runs every dirty covert mission the Conservative Faction needs to keep the good old Greater Commonwealth on the straight and narrow. I’m not his boss; I’m his partner, for Christ’s sake.”

“Dad, the Heart?”

“Yeah, right.” Gore glanced around at all of them. “It’s a simple enough plan. Like Aaron said, you go in and engage the damn thing, reason with it. It has to be made to understand it’s committing galactic genocide.”

“That’s it?” Oscar asked.