Peter Hamilton - The Dreaming Void

'It's not just our ambition, Phelim said. He gestured at the empty end of the table, opposite Ethan's dais. His u-shadow established the ultra-secure link, and a portal projected an image of Likan standing just beyond the table.

Likan bowed politely. 'Conservator, I am honoured.

'Thank you, Ethan said. 'I believe you are acting as an unofficial emissary for your government.

'Yes, sir. I have just finished talking with our Prime Minister. It is her wish to accept Ellezelin's generous offer to elevate us to core world status within the Free Trade Zone.

'That's wonderful news. I will inform Ellezelin's cabinet of your decision.

'The acceptance comes with the understanding that a zero tariff regime will be part of the accord, Likan said.

'Of course. Full trade will commence as soon as the Second Dreamer joins us here in Makkathran2.

'Understood. The Prime Minister will award the treaty her certificate of office as soon as it is sent. Likan's image vanished.

'I believe, Ethan said into the startled silence, 'that we were about to take a vote. Those in favour? He watched the hands being raised. It was unanimous. In moments such as this he almost missed Corrie-Lyn's presence on the Council; she would never have left such a Soviet outcome go unchallenged. 'Thank you. I find your support of my policies to be humbling. There is no further business.

Phelim remained seating as the others filed out. Flecks of light slid across his expressionless face as the comets orbited ceaselessly overhead.

'That was easy, Ethan remarked.

'They don't know what to do, Phelim said. 'They're just the same as the devout gathering outside: bewildered and hurt that the Second Dreamer would reject the Skylord. They're in need of strong, positive leadership. You provide that. You have the solution. Naturally they turn to you.

'When can we open the wormhole?

'I'll have your government office send the treaty to Viotia's Prime Minister immediately. If Likan doesn't let us down, it'll come straight back. The wormhole can be opened within two hours. We'd prepared a number of sites for it to emerge.

'I hope Colwyn City was one of them.

'Yes. It has a dock complex that will serve us very nicely.

'And our police forces?

'Forty thousand ready for immediate dispatch, along with transport and riot suppression equipment. We can push them through within six hours of opening the wormhole. Another quarter of a million will follow over the next four days.

'Excellent.

'I hoped you'd approve, Phelim hesitated. 'We never planned on the Second Dreamer becoming aware of his ability in quite this fashion. It'll take us a day to get our Dream Masters into position across Colwyn.

'But you can shut down all capsule and starship traffic before then?

'Yes. That's our highest priority. We want to confine him within the city boundary. Again the uncharacteristic hesitation. 'But in order to locate him, he has to dream again. After tonight, he might not.

Ethan closed his eyes and sank down into the throne, enervated by his exertion. 'He will. He doesn't know what he's done yet.

'What do you mean?

'An hour ago I received a call from Director Trachtenberg at the Centurion Station. He considered it important enough to reveal his affiliation to us and use the Navy's relay posts. Just after the Second Dreamer ended his contact with the Skylord, the Void began a devourment phase. That is not coincidence. It would seem the Skylord doesn't take rejection lightly. Our reclusive friend will have to placate it, or we'll all wind up being consumed by the boundary. Quite an incentive, really.

Edeard woke with a mild hangover. Again. Last night was the third in a row he'd been out with Macsen and Boyd.

He sat up in bed and ordered the light on. The high curving ceiling started to shine with a low cream radiance. One of his three ge-chimps hurried over with a glass of water and a small compaction of powder he'd got from Doctor Murusa's apprentice. Edeard popped the little pellet on to his tongue, and took a drink to swallow. His mind drifted back to that morning years ago in Witham where Fahin had mixed his awful concoction of a hangover cure. It was still the most effective he'd ever had. Edeard was sure the pellets were little more than placebos, providing the apprentice with a small regular source of income. He finished the water quickly. Fahin had always said water helped flush away the toxins.

The circular bath pool in the maisonette's bathroom now had a series of small steps at one end so Edeard could walk down into it. He immersed himself up to his neck, settling into the seat shelf, and sighed in gratification. A ge-chimp poured in a soap liquid which produced a lot of bubbles. He closed his eyes again, waiting for the hangover to ebb away. The water temperature was perfect, exactly body warmth. It had taken him a couple of weeks experimenting to get that right; the bathing water in Makkathran was normally quite chilly for humans. He'd also remodelled the hole in the floor which served as a toilet. Now the ubiquitous wooden box employed by every Makkathran household had gone, replaced by a simple hollow pedestal which the room had grown for him. So much easier to sit on.

Various other little modifications had turned the maisonette into quite a cosy home. The standard too-high cube-shaped bed was now a lot lower, its spongy upper surface softer and more accommodating. Alcoves had shelves in them. One deep nook in the kitchen area was permanently chilly, allowing him to keep food fresh for days just like the larger city palaces did.

That was the greatest blessing of being in the constables' tenement rather than the station dormitory. Edeard could finally choose what he ate again. Half of his first monthly pay had gone on a new iron stove to cook on. He'd installed it himself, adapting the hole the previous tenant had hacked into the wall for the flue. It had pride of place in the kitchen, along with a growing collection of pans. There was even a small basin which could be used for washing up, rather than dumping everything into the bath pool as most people did. He liked that innovation enough to consider sculpting another one in the bathroom just for his hands and face. Although that really would let everyone know he had the ability to rearrange the city's fabric, sculpting it as easily as he once had genistar eggs.

Everyone who visited the maisonette.

So, no one, then.

Macsen had brought a girl back from the theatre last night. One of the dancers! As pretty as any of the grand family girls, but with an incredibly strong, supple body. He knew that because of the revealing clothes she wore when she danced on stage. Edeard gritted his teeth and tried not to be jealous. He and Boyd had struck out again. Though overall it had been a pleasant evening. Edeard enjoyed the theatres a lot more than just sitting round in taverns getting drunk. There were often several musicians up on the stage. Always Guild apprentices. Young and with passion. Just listening to some of their songs, so full of contempt for the city authorities, made him feel wickedly disloyal to the Grand Council. But he knew the words to many of the popular ones, of which several were Dybal's compositions. It was loud in the theatres, some of which were no more than underground storerooms. He'd been startled the first time he heard drums being played, it was as if the musicians had somehow tamed thunder.

One day they'd go and see Dybal playing, so Macsen promised. Edeard hoped it would be soon.

The bubbles started to disappear from the pool as the water cycled through the narrow slits around the bottom. Edeard groaned and climbed out. A ge-chimp had a robe waiting for him. He pulled it on as he walked though into the kitchen area and sat at the small table. It was right next to a cinquefoil window, giving him a view over the rooftops towards the centre of the city.