Peter Hamilton - The Temporal Void

The city's thoughts began to slow again. Withdrawing back into slumber.

'No, Edeard said. 'No wait. Tell me how. He turned to the souls. 'What did it mean?

'I sense patterns around me, Kristabel said. 'Just as Boyd told you. The universe remembers what happened everywhere. Our whole life is visible there in the past.

'Can you show me? Edeard asked.

'See with me, she said. Edeard tried to sense her thoughts, the gift of her perception. It was a strange union, a dimension of farsight he'd never known of before. As he followed his wife's observation into the fabric of reality he saw for himself. Saw himself stretched out down the slope, a million, a billion, images of himself leading back; they encapsulated every instant of the climb, every step, every breath, every heartbeat. Every thought. It was as if he was looking into an infinity mirror. Makkathran was right, his essence had been captured by the Void. Every moment of his existence had been remembered.

Edeard regarded himself, the one of five minutes ago, studying how real the vision was. He appeared frozen. Awaiting the breath to fill his lungs in order to become real.

'Oh my Lady, he gasped. 'I think I understand. But… no. That would mean. He leapt to his feet. 'Kristabel?

'Do it, she entreated. 'Edeard, if there's even a chance—

'Yes. He flung his arms out, unleashing his third hand. The squad members were hurled into the air, an expanding bracelet of struggling figures arching up and out, away from the ground. Screaming as they began their plummet hundreds of feet to the wider slope below.

Free of any immediate danger, Edeard concentrated again on the images. Minutes ago was useless to him. He began to push on past the memories of himself walking up to the summit. Delving deep. He knew himself lying on the bed in the pavilion while Salrana longtalked Owain. Further. His own memory came into play, knowing a vivid moment from a few days ago. Twinning it with the Void's recollection. The technique was almost instinctive. The moment was there, shimmering elusively in front of him. His mind reached for it, finding it beyond his grasp. He tried again, harder this time, channelling his colossal telekinetic strength into the stretch. Mental fingers scrabbled desperately to close around the moment, to make it real. He groaned with the effort. Forcing the universe to link the moments.

Somewhere — allwhere, the universe began to shift. The present slipped backwards, slowly at first. That long linear image of him walking up the slope unwound, taking him down. Above him, the stars crawled the wrong way through the firmament. Encouraged, Edeard threw his entire strength into achieving the union across time. The impossibly weird motion began to accelerate. Edeard's past rushed past. The precise, wonderfully clear moment he wanted hurtled towards him—

— Edeard woke screaming. The yell of shock and disbelief rang round the woodland camp, he couldn't stop blasting air from his lungs. Morning light shone down on him.

Morning!

Dinlay was a few yards away, immobile in the action of hopping about while he held his boot high. He was giving Edeard a dumbfounded look.

Edeard managed to stop his scream. He looked round wildly, then jumped as he saw Macsen sitting on an old fallen tree trunk.

'I didn't put anything in your boot, Macsen protested in a reasonable voice.

'You're alive! Edeard bellowed.

'What in Honious is going on? Topar asked. He had risen from his blanket, his pistol held ready. Boloton, Fresage, Verini, and Larby were scrambling round, trying to find the source of the commotion.

'Nothing! Edeard said breathlessly. An explosion of pure joy inside his head threatened to overwhelm him. 'Everything! I did it! I'm here. It's real. You're real. And you're all alive.

Dinlay let out an exasperated sigh. 'What is the matter with you? He squinted into his boot. 'Ah ha! His third hand scraped out the remains of a utog beetle. He gave Macsen a suspicious glance.

'Edeard? Topar asked cautiously.

'It's fine, Edeard held up a hand in reassurance, then laughed. He was feeling giddy now. The world was whirling round unsteadily. He sat down hard. 'No, wait. He held up his hands, fingers out to count. 'The ambush is in two days' time. Er… then another day and a half to ride back. Ladydamnit, if I start now I might not make it. I've got to go further back.

Dinlay shoved his foot into the boot and walked over. 'Bad dream?

Edeard grinned. 'The worst there has ever been.

'Ah. Would you like some tea? You've still got some of those linen packets left, Dinlay added hopefully.

'No. Edeard stood up fast. Before Dinlay knew what was happening, Edeard kissed him.

'Fuck the Lady, Dinlay exclaimed, juddering back out of reach.

Edeard laughed delightedly. 'I can't stay. I'm sorry. But by the Lady it is so good to see you all alive again. And the girls, our wives. Macsen, you're going to be a father. I promise. I swear on the Lady herself.

'What in Honious did you drink last night? Macsen demanded.

'I drank… I drank everything there is to drink.

'I think you'd better sit down, Topar said levelly.

'No time, Edeard said, enjoying how manic he must be appearing to the others. 'Well, actually, that's not true. He giggled. 'Do you remember the first day on the road. His fingers clicked urgently. 'We stopped and made camp just outside that farm. Oh, where was it?

'Stibbington, Dinlay grunted.

'That's right. That's the place, and it's in time. Plenty of time. Barely a day's gallop back from there. Macsen, do you remember, you were so saddle sore you claimed you couldn't walk.

'I remember.

'Yeah, me too. Edeard reached for the moment—

Dreaming still. Mellow images of her true love. His scent. His laughter. His pleasure. Those two days kept stretching out and out—

Justine sat up in the medical chamber and glanced round the Silverbird's cabin. Everything was exactly the same as when she went in to suspension. No alarms sounding this time. They'd reached the star system, and the starship's log reported a thoroughly uneventful voyage. The Silverbird was already decelerating.

She swung her legs out, wincing at the stiffness in her limbs. Neck muscles were knotted and tight. What she needed was a good massage. Maybe at the Hulluba resort on Fasal Island. Yes, she could certainly picture herself lying on a bed on the spa veranda, overlooking the white beaches and absurdly clear turquoise water. The spa had some very handsome masseur, talented fit young men who knew how to kneed her muscles and tendons into complete submission. Very handsome. And the drinks they served in long glasses full of crushed ice, with exotic fruits — delicious. Hot blue-white star a pinprick of intense light atop the indigo sky. Handsome and eager.

Lordie, this is what dreaming about those two days does to me. Hulluba was a thousand years ago.

Justine sighed in regret and her third hand pulled a robe out of the replicator module. The culinary unit produced a big glass of carrot juice with vitamin supplements. It brought a grimace to her face as she dutifully swallowed it all down.

Maybe there'll be some beaches on a planet here somewhere.

She sat on the floor and started stretching exercises. Already she was looking forward to a very hot shower with powerful jets, a forcefully applied heat that would rid her neck of those abysmal kinks.

'What have we got outside? she asked the smartcore.

The star appeared in her exovision. Justine frowned. 'I know this. It was the star system which was projected on to the ceiling of the Orchard Palace's Upper Council chamber. A copper star that shone warmly at the centre of an accretion disc. Comets with moon-sized nuclei prowled the outer edges of the disc in high-inclination orbits, their tails streaming out for millions of kilometres, fluorescing a glorious scarlet. But what she was seeing outside now was older, the accretion disc had thinned out from the time of Edeard's tenure. Nine distinct bands had formed within it, each one shepherded by dense curlicues of asteroids as proto-planets started to congeal. The tails of the fireball comets were smaller, less volatile than before. Long braids of white vapour corrupted their once-pure scarlet efflux.