Peter Hamilton - The Evolutionary Void

Makkathran, last survivor of the Raiel armada, soared back up into the sky it had fallen from a million years ago and headed for the clean emptiness of space.

Gore Burnelli didn’t often admit admiration for other people, least of all meat humans. But he had to acknowledge that Araminta had done a fine job living in two different time flows. Even though he’d been one of the pioneers of enhanced mentality, he was finding the going a little tough.

The segment of his mind designated to maintain the connection to Justine was racing on ahead, looking back at the ponderous events on the Anomine homeworld with something approaching contempt. It would be very easy to divest himself of his sluggish flesh and live fast and free in the Void. He had to focus hard on the other aspects of his mind and the requirements they served to dismiss the notion. The temptation was pulling with unrelenting tidal force.

For a heartbeat he watched from the entranceway of the Lady’s church as Makkathran flew clear of Querencia’s atmosphere and then accelerated after the Skylord that had brought the Mellanie’s Redemption just a few hours earlier.

Exoimage displays surrounded him, tracing the progress of the infiltrator filaments as they slithered through the molecular structure of the elevation mechanism, chasing down the network pathways and penetrating delicate junctions. Primary attention switch-to the massed ranks of code awaiting initialization so the packages could slide into alien software, mimicking the routines in order to subvert them. His accelerated mind watched the symbology flip around at a speed he could actually follow as they analyzed the first impulses flashing through the junctions.

Incoming call-which he answered with another segment operating within his meat skull.

“We’re in,” the Delivery Man said. “I’m establishing control over all major siphon systems. The override is disengaged. Full wormhole initialization sequence is running. Power generation is increasing. I need to take that slow; there’s nowhere to send it yet.”

“Well done.”

“I never knew Makkathran was a Raiel ship.”

“What else could it be? Haven’t you ever visited High Angel ?”

“No, actually.”

“Oh. Well, those domes are the real giveaway. They’re identical.”

“Obviously.”

“Any sign of Marius?”

“I haven’t got a decent sensor that can function down here in the innermost circle. Hysradar works, but it’s useless. He must be in stealth mode, still.”

“Keep watching. When he finally figures out we can stop his precious Ilanthe, he won’t take it well.”

“Oh, crap. All right.”

Makkathran caught up with the Skylord just before it crossed Nikran’s orbit, barely two million miles from the desert planet. Edeard stood in the square at the center of Sampalok, staring at the small brown orb that appeared to be hanging just above the mansion. It was kindling a surprising amount of nostalgia. He could just make out some of the surface features as he’d done that other day, now lost in the broken past, when he’d sat in the Malfit Hall waiting to be called before the Mayor and handed his bronze epaulets. His squadmates had teased him for his questions about other people living on Nikran. They never knew as he did that humans lived on hundreds of worlds. And now they never would.

Or maybe they do. Who knows what they see from the Heart?

Of all the revelations Inigo had brought, knowing that the Void was a danger to life everywhere was the hardest to accept.

“I always hated that Ladydamned thing,” Inigo said, glaring at the six-sided mansion.

“The mansion?” Corrie-Lyn asked in surprise.

“No, the arcology in Kuhmo. It dominated every day of my life while I was growing up. That’s one of the reasons I offered the town council all that money to demolish the monstrosity, so kids wouldn’t be so blighted in future.”

“It did fill your mind,” Edeard confirmed. “I wasn’t really sure what genuine human architecture looked like, and I was in a hurry that day. It was the obvious choice.

“Thank the Lady you didn’t build it full size.”

“I saw the fane you replaced it with,” Corrie-Lyn said drily. “It wasn’t a whole lot better.”

Inigo grinned back at her. “There’s gratitude.”

Edeard sensed concern growing in Justine’s mind. He glanced over to see her standing close to Gore, whose golden face had hardened with worry.

“What?”

“Some events are outside our control,” Justine said. “I think you need to ask the Skylord now.”

The creature they were pursuing was still half a million kilometers away, a shimmering patch to one side of Nikran. Edeard eyed it reluctantly. If it declared he wasn’t fulfilled, Inigo would have to delve down into the memory layer and bring out a version of himself who was. There were few enough certainties for him right now, but encountering his future self was something he knew he didn’t want to endure. “I’ll try.” He felt for the Skylord, finding it on the edge of perception. Usually their thoughts were composed and content. He’d never known one to host such confusion before. It was grieving for its kindred that had succumbed to Ilanthe, and the colossal warship racing after it was also unsettling. There were ancient ancestral memories about such things: the time of chaos.

“You have nothing to fear from those I travel with, including the city,” Edeard assured it. “They are my companions as I seek fulfillment.”

“I know this city now,” the Skylord replied. “Its kind brought ruin to this universe. We have found no minds since they threw the planets of life down into the stars they orbited. None have emerged here other than your own species.”

“That time is over now. You know more of my species are already here. Minds are emerging again.”

“As is the other who kills.”

“That is why I wish to reach the Heart. I will carry the warning to it. I believe I am fulfilled. I believe the Heart will accept me. Is this right?”

The Skylord took a long time to answer. “You are fulfilled,” it acknowledged. “I will guide your essence to the Heart.”

“Guide me to the Heart as I am. This ship will take me. We will follow you.”

“It is the essence of every mind, my kindred guide.”

“Guide me to the Heart. It will decide if it accepts me as I am or if I abandon my body and become pure mind.”

“I will guide you.”

“Thank you.”

Beyond the crystal dome, the stars began to chase short arcs across space as Makkathran turned to follow the Skylord. Then they started to accelerate again. Edeard experienced a long moment of dizziness. When he looked straight up again, he could see a small clump of stars directly above the apex of the dome. They’d all become bright blue-white. The rest of the universe around them was black.

“That’s not fast enough,” Gore said. “Ilanthe has a week of Void time on you. Christ knows how close she is now.”

“We know this is as fast as the Skylords can travel,” Justine said.

“Yeah, but they’re not exactly swinging from the top of the IQ tree, now, are they? Ask Makkathran. It’s had millions of years to figure out what passes for spacetime in the Void.”

Justine gave Edeard a questioning look.

“I’ll ask,” he said.

“Faster?” Makkathran queried; its thoughts intimated curiosity. “We were designed for every conceivable quantum state except of course this one. Here the mind is paramount, helping to seduce so many inferior mentalities. Long ago, I observed the fundamental connections between rationality and the multidimensional lattice which incorporates this universe’s functionality. Speed is an aspect of temporal flow, which in turn is determined by thought. It is the application pattern which is the key, and those are actually quite simple to determine.”