The Temporal Void (97 page)

Read The Temporal Void Online

Authors: Peter F. Hamilton

BOOK: The Temporal Void
11.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

‘Coming up on five.’

‘But it’s been . . .’

‘Four years. Including the interlude with the Skylord.’

‘You got that part?’

‘Oh yes. That little shit Ethan is making a lot of capital out of its refusal to take you to the nucleus. A real big boost to the cause. The Clerics from his jumped-up Council have been all over the unisphere ever since, ranting about destiny. It’s almost enough to counter the fuck-up they’ve made on Viotia.’

‘Viotia?’ she asked in a daze.

‘They’re turning the planet upside down looking for the Second Dreamer. Don’t worry about it. We’ve got to concentrate on your problem.’

‘Kazimir?’

‘In a manner of speaking. Damn, I never realized you were still so fixated. You really ballsed that one up, didn’t you?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘So far all Living Dream has been promising is the chance to put your life straight, just like their precious Waterwalker did every time he made his many mistakes. Screwed up again? Never mind. Bang, he thinks back to the moment he went wrong and rearranges the whole Void to that instant. That’s what sold it to them, all the sheep bleating to be taken on the Pilgrimage fleet.’

‘I know, time travel is everyone’s wish fulfilment made true. Going back to correct your life’s blunders is the ultimate fantasy.’

‘Time travel is pure bullshit, impossible; nobody can defeat causality or entropy. All the Void does is press the reset button. That’s what that goddamn memory layer is, a template of every instant inside there. And how does it fucking power that?’

‘Dad.’

‘Every planet, every person, every Skylord, every star has to have its entropy reversed to the point in time Edeard fancied going back to. Every star! Every single atom in every star in the Void has to have its energy level pumped back up so he can begin again. Dear God, what arrogance. And where does it get the energy from to do that? From us. From eating our galaxy. That’s what feeds the reset. Mass to energy, good old E equals MC squared.’

‘Dad, calm down, you’re ranting to the converted.’

‘Oh am I? If they were converted, the stupid dumb shits wouldn’t be going on their Pilgrimage, would they? Sometimes I think the Ocisens are quite right, they should just wipe us out because any species
thick
enough to produce Living Dream doesn’t deserve to live.’

‘Dad!’ she said, shocked.

‘Yeah, yeah.’ He grinned round savagely. ‘You like this dream, Ethan? You like what’s coming at you from the Void now? Or is this too much truth for you? Because it’s not just going to be your dumbass Waterwalker skipping back through his life any more, is it? I could just about live with him being the saviour of a bunch of shipwrecked medieval cretins. But that was never enough for you, was it? You are so fucking stupid you want to take everyone in there. Millions of you resetting your lives every time you get a drop of shampoo in your fucking eye. Are you so fucking pitifully weak you can’t face living your life properly?
Learn
from your mistake and move on. That’s what makes you human. Not condemning the rest of us to extinction because of your personal goddamn failure of an existence. Grow some balls, for fuck’s sake.’

Justine put her arm around Gore, startled to find he was shaking with rage. ‘It’s okay,’ she told him. ‘We’ll find a solution.’

‘Oh yeah. That’s right. Because now it’s not just the integral memory function that the Void can use as a template for creation. It can delve into any old hang-up you care to take in there with you. The Living Dream bastards aren’t going to be content with going to Makkathran and screwing themselves stupid with Ranalee. Not any more. Not now they can recreate anything from their own past. People, cities, civilizations, worlds. Bring anything you want back to life, anything from history, from fiction. Doesn’t matter, we’ll just suck down a couple of thousand new stars into the boundary to power it up. Jesus H. Christ.’

‘Are you blaming me for this?’

Gore stood still, his fists clenching and unclenching as he tried to calm down. ‘No. It’s not your fault. I’m not blaming you. This is all down to the bastard Firstlives who built the fucking abomination in the first place. The Raiel were right to try to destroy it. I wish they goddamn had, I really do.’

‘I can use the
Silverbird
to study as much as it can.’

‘No, no, that’s not the answer to anything. We can’t go in there with ray-guns blazing. I thought you’d realized that. You were right earlier, the mind is the key in the Void. It is geared up to manifest every thought. The physical environment can only be a tiny part of it. Think of it as an eight-dimensional onion.’

Justine straightened her back and gave her father an exasperated look. ‘Thanks, Dad. That’s helpful. I always think in those terms, it really helps a lot.’

Gore gave her a gruff smile. ‘All right, forget the eight dimensions, just picture the layers. They’re interlinked dimensionally, not figuratively, but you get the drift. Every layer has a different function. There’s the memory layer which captures everything that goes on in there. There’s the creator layer, which must organize the reset. There’s the interaction layer, which formats thoughts for the creator layer, which is what makes telepathy and all the rest of that mental shit happen.’

‘A layer to make souls work,’ Justine said thoughtfully.

‘Yeah. This is all built around rationality and its evolution, the fulfilment your retard Skylord is fixated on. So maybe another layer which handles thought processes – maybe that’s the soul one, maybe not. That’s not the point. There’s a whole ton of layers, ones we can deduce from observation and stuff we can’t even guess at. And Christ knows what the nebulas are and why they’re singing. Doesn’t matter. What we have here is an enormously complex construction. But the nucleus is the centre – again, not physically.’

‘So the nucleus does control it all.’

‘Who knows what the hierarchy is? What we have to do is find a route in, something we can rationalize and engage, just like you wanted.’

‘Why would the nucleus create Kazimir for me?’

‘It didn’t. I don’t believe you can think big enough to attract its attention. That confluence nest you have on board probably imprinted the Kazimir dream on to the creator layer. It was a thought more powerful than it’s accustomed to. Most of the layers don’t operate at a conscious sentient level, they just perform their task. And nobody ever took a confluence nest inside before. The one thing a confluence nest does above all else is hold a memory and repeat it ad infinitum. Your dream was the only one it received and that warped reality. The creator layer simply responded in the way it was designed. Nothing personal.’

Justine sat on the bed, trying to fit together what he was saying. ‘If my thoughts aren’t powerful enough, what’s the point of me trying to find the nucleus?’

‘This dream is being received by everyone who has a gaiafield connection. Understand?’

‘Ah.’

‘Don’t try and find the nucleus, it’s a waste of time.’

‘But, you just said—’

Gore knelt in front of her, his hands gripping her upper arms. His eyes peered out intently from the gold skin mask that was his face. ‘You have to get to Makkathran.’

‘There’s nobody left there. The Skylord said the humans had all gone to the nucleus.’

‘I don’t give a shit. Get to Makkathran. It’s important. That’s where humans are centred in the Void.’

‘How? The
Silverbird
can’t fly.’

‘Wrong.’ Gore grinned right at her. ‘You’re in the Void. You’ve got telepathic powers. The
Silverbird
can’t fly
now
.’

‘Oh.’ She worked out what he was proposing. ‘Oh!’

‘That’s my girl; as smart as you are beautiful.’

‘But, Dad, Kazimir won’t exist then. I’ll have killed him.’

Gore let go of her arms. ‘I’m sorry, run that by me again.’

‘If I go back to then, he won’t exist.’

‘Oh, Jesus wept,’ Gore slapped a hand theatrically across his brow. ‘Don’t you go all liberal on me now. Not now.’

‘I can’t wipe him out of existence. He’s real now for better or worse. I have a responsibility.’

‘He is the equivalent of a re-life clone, one that has been stuffed with your recollections of his memories. How pitiful is that?’

‘He’s alive,’ she said firmly.

‘And you’ve got the hots for him.’

‘I have not.’

‘Your own DNA test showed you he’s not Kazimir; just some poor doppelgänger the memory layer had in storage.’

‘Exactly. He’s human. I can’t do this to him.’

Gore took her hands. ‘Listen to me, darling. This is the fundamental catastrophe that is the Void. He was a stored memory. Everybody who was ever in the Void is exactly the same, everyone who crashed there in the colony ship was copied; everyone who was ever born. Owain is still there, for God’s sake, still frozen in the memory layer at the moment the Waterwalker shot him – and for all the decades he lived before. In all the resets Edeard performed afterwards, he never went back past the point where he wiped out the conspirators. He could never bring himself to do that all over again, because that’s what he would have had to do each time. This is what the Void throws at us. They lived in the time they were meant to live. You can’t change that, Justine. You cannot allow rationality and ethics that evolved in this universe to apply where you are now.’

‘I know what you’re saying; but, Dad, you haven’t met him. He’s so sweet. He doesn’t deserve this.’

‘The galaxy doesn’t deserve the Void, but we’ve got it. And I have met him, darling, I’ve felt your silly little heart beat faster at the sight of him. I tasted the chocolates you ate when you smiled and flirted with him. I know the urge you’ve been trying to ignore. I’m sorry. You have to do this. You have to go to Makkathran.’

‘Oh Goddamnit.’

He kissed her brow. ‘Look on the bright side, if we lose you get to stay and live in the Void, you can find him again.’

‘You are a thoroughly fucking useless coach, you know that.’

‘I know. Now go and wake up.’

Justine nodded weakly, knowing she didn’t really have a choice. For the first time she looked through the bedroom window. The land outside wasn’t the grounds of the Tulip Mansion. Instead, her old home was sitting at the bottom of an impossibly huge valley, with mountains curving away through the sky like a monstrous green and brown wave about to break overhead. The sun was a long band of glaring light. ‘What the hell is that?’

Gore shrugged lightly. ‘I had to make a few sacrifices so I could dream your dreams.’

‘Dad . . .’

‘I’m fine.’ He raised a hand, waving, his smile fond and proud. ‘Go on. Wake up.’

Justine’s eyes opened wide, staring up at the cabin ceiling. Tears blurred her vision. She wiped them away angrily. ‘Oh, hell.’ And Kazimir would know something was wrong. No telepath had the strength to shield those emotions.

Sure enough, he was standing at the end of the rope ladder as she struggled her way down. He even held it steady for her.

‘What’s the matter?’ he asked.

‘I have to go,’ she said flatly.

‘I see. That’s good, isn’t it? You know how to reach the nucleus. You wanted to go there.’

‘I can’t take you with me,’ she stammered.

‘I understand.’

‘No. No, you don’t.’ She took a deep breath and kissed him. Delight banished the surprise from his face.

‘Kazimir, I want you to know something. If there is a way back here, I will find it, I will find you. I promise that. Know my thoughts and know the truth in them.’

He gave her that tentative worshipful gaze which just made her feel worse. She never thought she’d ever see that again.

‘I see the honesty in your thoughts,’ he assured her. ‘Now do what you know you must.’

Justine sat on a rock a few metres from the
Silverbird
’s landing leg. The warm late-afternoon sun was a pleasant pressure on her face and arms as she folded her legs into a yoga position. Kazimir was squatting down a little way past her, watching anxiously. She gave him one last smile and concentrated.

Her thoughts flowed into the confluence nest, using its routines to hold her mind steady. There were memories in there, the time where Edeard stood on top of the mountain and reached into the fabric of the Void, seeing the past. She followed what he did intently, and tried to shape her thoughts in the same fashion, pushing her farsight down into the nothingness that lay around her.

Her own body was there, a long multiple image winding back and forth across the ground, going up into the ship, talking to Kazimir, radiating such sorrow it threatened to resonate through her now. She pushed past it, saw the
Silverbird
swoop down from space. Further.

It was incredibly difficult, without the support of the confluence nest she would never have maintained focus. She couldn’t believe the Waterwalker had ever done this unaided. There was a single distinctive moment in her life which she wanted to achieve. Her mind held it up, instinctively matching it to the moment contained within the Void’s memory of everywhen. Then all she had to do was impel herself into it. There was a cry of desperation somewhere in the physical world as she attempted to force her thoughts into a pattern they were never intended for, calling upon the strength of the confluence nest to support her. The precious moment was there, linking present and past. Justine
pushed
. The Void reset itself –

Inigo’s Thirteenth Dream
 

The chamber of records was three levels down beneath the Spiral Tower which housed the headquarters of Makkathran’s Weapons Guild. In total, the third level had twenty chambers, arranged in a circle and reached by a single ring corridor. They were used as vaults for the most secret guns and ammunition compounds known to the Guild’s Masters. For centuries the triple iron doors to each chamber had kept the rapid-fire guns safe, along with long-barrelled pistols and other firearms lost to the rest of Querencia. The mechanisms to produce such devices were also kept in the vaults, as were the raw ingots of specialist metals the designs required.

Other books

The End of the World by Amy Matayo
My Two Worlds by Sergio Chejfec
Buffalo Valley by Debbie Macomber
Finding Eden by Beavers, Camilla
Vendetta by Karr, Autumn, Lane, Sienna
Look Both Ways by Carol J. Perry