The Evolutionary Void (85 page)

It took another fifty minutes to maneuver through the macrosurges of the
convection zone’s deathly environment before the fifty-kilometer circle of the
siphon force field was directly underneath
Last Throw
.
Hysradar showed the torrent of two-million-degree hydrogen streaming in through
the rim. The Delivery Man guided the starship across the curving upper surface
of the giant lens shape and then slowly down until it was nose-on to the edge.

“That’s the weak part,” Gore said. “Show me what you can do.”

The
Last Throw
eased forward until its force
field actually touched the protective shield around the siphon. That was when
the Delivery Man finally got to feel some physical aspect of the flight. A low
thrumming reverberated through the cabin as the starship was caught between the
force field and the plasma hurtling past. He could feel the decking vibrate and
grinned weakly. Maybe tranquillity was preferable, after all.

Sensors could just manage to scan through the semipermeable segment of
the force field it was pressed against. The smartcore began to probe what it
could of the siphon’s quantum signature, tracing ghostly outlines of the
gigantic generator sheltered inside the force field. The map of its structure
built slowly. Eventually there was enough for the Delivery Man to begin the
second stage.

The
Last Throw
activated several TD channels,
which were directed with impressive accuracy at the siphon’s control network.
Low-level connections were created, and a software analysis was initiated.

“It’s not the same kind of semisentient that controls the elevation
mechanism,” the Delivery Man reported. “More like a distributed AI routine,
although the parallels with Commonwealth genetic software are minimal.”

“Can it be hacked?”

“There are a lot of safeguards, including an external override which will
have to be neutralized, but the smartcore says we have several infiltrator
packages which should work.”

“Launch them.”

It’s Gore
. That was the thought Oscar awoke
to. The medical capsule’s cover withdrew, showing a blurred figure peering down
at him in the cargo hold’s dim green-tinged light.
Gore is
expecting someone to join Justine, and that’s what Aaron was committed to. Gore
is Aaron’s controller
.

The face above him resolved into Araminta-two, whose mind was badly
agitated.

“It’s Gore,” Oscar croaked. Suspension had left him with stiff muscles
everywhere and an embarrassingly full bladder.

“What is?” Araminta-two asked.

“The person behind Aaron, or at least one of them.”

“Oh. You mean because he’s directing everyone to Makkathran? Yeah, I
figured that one out a few months back. Even Aaron agreed.”

“Ah. Right. Need to pee.” Oscar levered himself upright on his elbows and
nearly banged his head on the ceiling of the forward cargo hold. There wasn’t
much room between the bulky medical cabinets. He saw that three of them were
already empty.

I thought I was supposed to be first out
.
“Everything okay?”

“Just about,” Araminta-two answered with a whole load of glumness. Oscar
gave him a good look; the Dreamer was wearing a baggy blue T-shirt and
gray-green trousers that had a lot of spare fabric. For a moment Oscar thought
he was dressing in Troblum’s old clothes before acknowledging the style was
deliberately feminine. “What’s up? Have we arrived?”

“Our Skylord is decelerating us into Querencia orbit. Troblum has already
detected the
Silverbird
’s beacon, so we know where
Makkathran is. No need for observational orbits.”

“That’s good.” He
really
needed to pee.

“It’s been touch and go with Aaron,” Araminta-two blurted.

“Why?”

“His memories of the Cat are breaking through. He spends longer and
longer asleep, wrestling with his nightmares. Yesterday he was only awake for
five hours. And his body’s having some kind of psychosomatic reaction, I think
enhanced by his psychic ability.”

“Oh, crap.” Oscar hunched down and made his way along the companionway to
the main cabin. His u-shadow connected him to the smartcore, and an exoimage
display showed him the planet ahead, expanding quite rapidly as they
decelerated into orbit. “Seventy-three minutes out? And we spent three and a
half months traveling. Not bad.” He made it into the cabin to find Inigo,
Corrie-Lyn, and Tomansio waiting for him. “Gotta go.” He pointed urgently at
the washroom cubicle. They all waved him on, offering sympathetic thoughts.

He was just sealing his fly when the deluge of senses hit him hard,
foreign thoughts slicing clean through his basic mental shield, bringing
vertiginous light, sensation, sound, taste, along with a primeval fear that
numbed his hands as he tumbled down into someone else’s life.

It had been a fabulous holiday. When evening came, they’d taken one of
the hundreds of tourist boats that nosed around the piers of Tridelta City and
headed up the Dongara River for a night of partying and native spectacle. The
planet’s native bioluminescent vegetation didn’t disappoint, glowing vividly
against the dark skies. And the lounges on the boat provided a lot of wild fun,
impressing even the most jaded passenger.

They disembarked at dawn and went back to their hotel on the top of the
old Kinoki Tower three kilometers above the muddy waters of the rivers that
shimmied around the city groynes. Daytime was spent eating, sleeping, and
having furious sex. The Cat had no inhibitions, which was yet another reason he
loved her so. Provocative and daring, she exhausted him and still wanted more,
telling him what she expected his poor old flesh to perform.

“Let me have just one break.” He laughed, reaching for some of the
chilled wine. But the bottle was lying on its side where it’d been kicked. He
gave it a depressed stare and told his u-shadow to connect to—

The Cat rolled him onto his back and straddled him. A delightful
victorious smile lit up her cute face. “Wrong answer,” she said, grinning. Her
hand closed around his wrist, and the skin burned beneath her fingers. He
screamed as the charred flesh welded itself onto the mattress. She gripped the
other hand and seared that down, too. “Nobody denies me,” she told him.

He screamed again as she began on his ankles, spread-eagling him so he
was held immobile by the stringy remains of his own smoldering flesh. Then her
hands stroked nimbly along his chest. She stiffened her fingers and powered
them down like a knife. Bones cracked, and blood welled up in deep punctures.
“With your body gone, I will take your mind and finally your soul,” she
promised. He screamed and screamed and twisted with all his strength to escape,
prizing himself free—

“Shit!” Oscar juddered back, cracking the side of his head on the
bulkhead of the tiny compartment. “Ow!” He pressed his hand to the rising
bruise as biononics hurried to ease the damaged flesh. That was when he saw the
red markings around his wrist. He stared at them in shock. They were an
identical shape to the injury the Cat had inflicted on Aaron in the dream.
“Bloody hell.” He stumbled out into the main cabin, holding up both arms
incredulously to show his colleagues the sores.

“Yeah!” Tomansio said heartlessly. “You have to guard yourself against
that. He got me half an hour ago. I just hope to Ozzie they’re not genuine
memories.”

A muffled scream sounded across the cabin. Everyone looked at the sealed
door of the sleeping cubicle where Aaron was brawling with his own mind. “Can’t
we wake him up?” Oscar’s shield was as strong as he could make it, and he could
still sense the nightmare flooding out of the sleeping man’s mind.

“Troblum and I tried that once,” Araminta-two said. “Won’t be doing that
again. Thankfully, my third hand is stronger than his.” He gave a nervous
smile. “Actually, Aaron was the one who’s been making me practice and develop
my abilities.”

“We’re losing him,” Inigo said. “And if we lose him …”

“No,” Corrie-Lyn said. “We won’t lose him, not to her. Not before we
reach Makkathran. He’s stronger than that. I know.”

“Yeah, but this?” Tomansio gestured at the sleeping cubicle.

“Less than two hours,” Corrie-Lyn said. “And we’ll be walking though
Makkathran’s streets. His subconscious knows that.”

“His subconscious is the problem,” Oscar muttered dourly. “Where’s
Troblum?”

“Where he’s been for most of the flight,” Araminta-two said archly. “In
his sleeping cubicle.”

“Has he got problems, too?” It came out before Oscar really thought about
what he was asking.

A mildly guilty flash of amusement shimmered across the cabin, a brief
intimate connection shared by everyone equally.

“Okay,” Oscar said, desperate not to let any thoughts wander in the
direction of the big man’s cubicle. “Why?”

“Wouldn’t like to guess, but his solido projector is in there with him.”

“Wow, this must have been a great trip for you.”

“Wonderful,” Araminta-two admitted. “Being on the
Lady’s
Light
was just about preferable.”

“Did the Pilgrimage fleet make it through?”

“Yes. About a week ago. I had a spot of trouble with Ethan afterward, but
that’s settled now.”

Oscar was curious, but instinct made him hold back from asking for
details. “And Ilanthe?”

“Oh, yes, it’s here. It killed a Skylord and consumed its abilities.”

“Christ. So where is it now?”

“The other Skylords say it’s on its way to the Heart.”

Oscar almost wished they’d left him in suspension. “Let’s wake up the
others,” he said.

Aaron emerged from his sleep cubicle just as Beckia was taken out of her
medical cabinet. Oscar took one look at him and drew in a sharp breath. Aaron
was in a bad way. His face looked as if he’d had some kind of capsule smash,
with scars and bruising contaminating his skin. Eyes bloodshot.

“Good to see you,” Oscar lied.

Aaron gave him a sour glance. “Where’s Troblum?” Without waiting for an
answer, he thumped his fist on Troblum’s door. Oscar saw that each fingernail
was black and bleeding.

Troblum emerged, his mind spilling resentment into the cabin. He gave
everyone a sullen glance and dropped his gaze to the decking like a censured
teenager.

“Land us,” Aaron said. “Come on, we don’t have time for your personal
crap; you need to focus on this. Justine encountered some difficulties on the
way down.”

“I’m ready,” Troblum replied sullenly.

Acceleration couches rose up out of the floor.

“Talking of personal crap,” Tomansio said levelly. “Have you considered
what you’ve been spilling into the Void?”

“What?” Aaron snapped.

“Well, let’s just hope your ex-girlfriend hasn’t been replicated like
Kazimir was. I’d hate to bump into her down there.”

Oscar gripped the sides of his couch. The first amber warnings flickered
into his exovision. Several systems were glitching. He wished they’d left him
in suspension until they were down and this particular hell was over.

It was late afternoon in the Anomine city, and the air was already
starting to cool. Gore pulled on a black cashmere sweater as he moved along the
intrusion systems lying like a giant spiderweb across the plaza. The strands
were sticky, glistening black in the rose-gold sun. His field function analysis
of the individual strands was showing up few imperfections amid the long-chain
molecules that were twined together around their active penetration filaments.
Production quality had been high, which was impressive given that the
replicator had never been designed with anything quite like this in mind.

He gave Tyzak an unobtrusive look. The big old Anomine was squatting on
his hind legs on the other side of the plaza, close to Gore’s little camp. It
still had no true idea of the web’s actual purpose.

I guess mistrust and suspicion are greater in humans
than Anomine. Shame, but there you go, it gives us an edge. And yet … they went
postphysical. Though not this variety. It’s almost as if they bred two strains
of themselves, the go-getters and the naive
.