The Evolutionary Void (16 page)

“Ilanthe will want the same thing as the rest of us,” Paula said. “The
Second Dreamer. She’s probably heading for Chobamba now.”

“Very well,” the President said. “Admiral, put together a task force of
Capital ships and dispatch them to Chobamba. I want that ship destroyed.”

“There wasn’t much information from the Sol system before the barrier
went up,” the Admiral said. “But the ship did appear to have a force field
based on Dark Fortress technology. We’re assuming the Accelerators are going to
use it to get past the Raiel in the Gulf.”

“Sweet Ozzie,” the President said. “Do you mean you can’t intercept it?”

“We can probably find it; our sensors are good enough to penetrate most
stealth systems. But I doubt we can ever catch it, not with the kind of speed
it was last confirmed traveling at. And yes, if we did corner it on Chobamba,
our weapons would probably not get through its defenses.”

“Crap. So it really does all come down to Araminta?”

“It looks that way, sir.”

Paula held her own opinion in check; the few comments she might have made
weren’t based on fact. “I’d advise getting in touch with the
High Angel
directly, Mr. President,” she said. “If anyone
can get through a barrier produced by Dark Fortress technology, it will be the
Raiel.”

“Yes,” he said. “That’s my next call. I will inform you of the outcome.”

The secure link closed. Paula ordered the smartcore to plot a course to
Chobamba. The bright green line hung in her exovision as it awaited
implementation, slicing through the astrogration display. Something made her
hold off. She was sure that even if she got there in ten hours’ time, it would
all be over. By now, everyone with a team chasing Araminta would know her new
location. As soon as Living Dream pinned down her exact geographical
coordinate, there would be a scramble to deliver local representatives into the
area. Either the team guarding her would evacuate her again, or she’d leave
with the strongest raider team.

The whole situation made little sense. It was obvious to any professional
that Living Dream would refine its search techniques after Bodant Park. Whoever
it was who’d flown her to Chobamba must have known that, even if they didn’t
know how good Ethan’s dream masters were. Keeping Araminta out of sight once
she was secure was the most basic rule.

So who took her there?

Half the factions chasing her would have killed her to prevent the
Accelerators from gaining any advantage. Most of the others, those which had
goals or ambitions similar to the Accelerators’, would have offered a deal. Yet
here Araminta was, going through Inigo’s dreams, seemingly without a care in
the universe.

Paula drew a sharp breath.
Of course, the simplest
explanation is always the most likely. She really isn’t aware of the danger, so
she isn’t under the protection of any professional team. Then how in God’s name
did she get to Chobamba?

She launched her u-shadow on a mission to gather every scrap of data on
Araminta. Everything Liatris McPeierl had put together, the files from Colwyn
City’s civic database, records from Langham on her family and its agriculture
cybernetics business, financial records, medical records (very few; she had an
excellent Advancer heritage), legal records—mostly her messy divorce handled by
her cousin’s law firm. All of it was resolutely average; none of it made her
any different from billions of other External world citizens.

But she is different. She’s a Dreamer. Something
makes her incredibly special. What? Gore has become one, and that’s outrageous;
there’s nobody rooted in the practical more than Gore. Yet he worked out the
secret. The only theory there’s ever been about why Inigo dreamed of Edeard is
because they were somehow related: family
. Paula’s heart jumped in
excitement.
As are Gore and Justine. Shit! But Araminta
dreamed of a Skylord
… She growled in frustration, slapping her hands
against her temples. “Come on, think!”
Ignore the Skylord
thing. Go for the family angle
… Her u-shadow zipped through Araminta’s
ancestry, correlating birth records and registered partnerships, tracking back
through the generations.

A small file flashed across her exovision, part of the family tree.

“Holy crap,” she yelped. There it was, plain and beautifully simple, five
generations down the line. The name simply lifted itself out of the list and
shone at Paula without any help from secondary routines.

“Mellanie Rescorai,” she whispered in amazed delight. “Oh, yes. Over a
thousand years, and she’s still nothing but trouble.” Even better, Mellanie was
named a Silfen Friend like her first husband, Orion. Paula remembered an
encounter over eight hundred years ago, when Mellanie was paying one of her
visits to the Commonwealth again. They’d both been invited to some high-powered
political event; it might even have been a presidential inauguration ball. Dear
old Mellanie had positively gloated about being named a Friend; it put her one
up on everyone else in the room that evening, Paula especially. That was
Mellanie for you: sweetly savage.

“Mellanie!” Paula was chuckling now. However it worked, however a Dreamer
connected to someone inside the Void, that was the root of it: the Silfen
magic, actually the most advanced weird technology in the galaxy. Ozzie had
developed the gaiafield out of his friendship gift from the Silfen, and that
was the whole medium for dreams. Araminta was descended from a Silfen Friend.
And Inigo … well, who knew?

The paths!
Paula’s u-shadow ran another
search. Sure enough, there was rumor of a path on Chobamba, in the middle of
its desert continent. And one at Francola Wood, right on the edge of Colwyn
City.
She didn’t join up with any faction; she didn’t fly
to Chobamba. She walked!

That meant Araminta was still surviving on luck and smarts, just as Oscar
had said, and therefore had no idea Living Dream had found her. She had to be
warned, which wasn’t going to be easy given that she’d cut herself off from the
unisphere.

Paula’s macrocellular clusters linked her directly to the starship’s
network. There was a memory kube on board that was heavily encrypted, very
heavily; she needed all five keys and a neural pathway verification to access
it. Stored within were programs that had been accumulated over fifteen hundred
years of investigations: programs of last resort, custom-written for the top ranks
of criminals, arms dealers, politicians … Simply knowing about some of them was
a crime. None of their creators would be coming out of suspension for
centuries. The Paula of twelve hundred years ago would have been mortified that
her future self hoarded such things. But on several occasions they’d proved
rather useful. Paula activated one; it wasn’t even on the lethal list.

Kristabel’s kiss was gentle yet so intense, so rich with desire and love.
“That’s why I love you,” she whispered. There could be no doubt how sincere she
was. A boundless love that promised a lifetime of happiness. And Edeard finally
knew he’d done the right thing.

Araminta sighed in perfect contentment, blinking as the chalet’s ceiling
took shape above her. Tears were trailing out from the corners of her eyes as
she came down off the emotional high. “Great Ozzie,” she murmured, still dazed
by the dream.
Now
she understood why Living Dream
had so many adherents, why they were all desperate to live in the Void. Time
travel. Except it wasn’t. It was resetting the universe around yourself, the
ultimate solipsism. How many times had she said to herself:
If I only knew then what I know now
. With that ability she
could go back to the moment she met Laril and laugh off his charm and seductive
promises. She could refuse Likan and never visit his mansion for the weekend.
Go back into her teens and tolerate her parents, knowing that life offered so
much more than the farm, not worrying that she’d be condemned to the family
business for centuries, yet at the same time
enjoying
her youth. The way it should be enjoyed. And then growing up truly free of
regrets. Meet Mr. Bovey in a Commonwealth that had never heard of the Second
Dreamer.

That was the life—the lives—that awaited her in the Void.

She could even feel the Skylord’s thoughts at the back of her mind. All
she had to do was call it. Say: take me in.

Such a simple thing to do. Three little words, and I
would be happy forever
.

But it was also the life that awaited everyone who went with her. And the
energy it took to fuel such egotistic wish fulfillment came from consuming the
rest of the galaxy. Every star, every planet, every biological body—they were
what supplied the atoms it took to make the Void’s magnificent ability
possible. The ones who paid the price.

“I can’t,” she told the darkened chalet. “I will not do that.”

The decision made her skin chill and her heart flutter. But it had been
made now. Her resolution would not waver. Logic and instinct were as one.
This is who I am. This is what makes me
.

Araminta slowly sat upright. It was still night outside, with maybe three
hours left until dawn. She needed a drink and some decent
dreamless
sleep. There was still some of the English breakfast tea in the flask from
Smoky James. She rolled off the bed and saw the red text drifting down the
unisphere node’s little screen on top of the bedside cabinet. She blinked at it
and read it again.

Tea and sleep abruptly forgotten, she knelt in front of the bedside
cabinet and used the keyboard to bring up the news articles. Her gaiamotes
opened slightly, allowing her to know the horror and fear flooding through the
gaiafield. It wasn’t a hoax. The Accelerator Faction had imprisoned Earth. ANA
was gone. The rest of the Commonwealth was on its own. She stared numbly at the
screen for a long moment, then accessed the code in her storage lacuna and
typed it in.

Laril’s face appeared, gaunt and apprehensive, with drawn skin and deep
bags under his eyes. “Oh, thank fuck,” he wheezed. “Are you okay? I’ve been
going frantic.”

She smiled. It was the only way she could stop herself from bursting into
tears. “I’m okay,” she promised him with a voice that wavered dangerously.

“And you’re—” He frowned, his head shaking from side to side as he
focused on exovision displays. “You’re on Chobamba. How did you get there?”

“Long story. Laril, they’ve taken away the Earth!”

“I know. ANA was the only thing that could stop this.”

“Yes. Someone helped me. Oscar, his name was Oscar. I’d never have gotten
out of Bodant Park without him. He said he worked for ANA. He said he would
help me. I was thinking I might call him, ask ANA to help me. What do I do
now?”

“That depends on what you’ve decided. Are you going to help Living Dream
get into the Void?”

“No. It can’t happen. They’ll wipe out the galaxy.”

“Okay, that brings your options down to three.”

“Go on.”

“Ask the navy for protection. If anyone has the firepower to stand up to
the Accelerators, it’s them.”

“Yes. That’s good. What else?”

“This Oscar person. If he does work for ANA, he should also be able to
keep you away from Living Dream. He’ll probably have resources which none of
the others do.”

“What’s the last one?”

“Side with a faction that is opposed to the Advancers and Living Dream.”

“But there aren’t any factions left.”

“They’re locked up inside the Sol barrier, but their agents are still out
here in the Commonwealth. And they’re all looking for you. I can negotiate with
one for you. Get them to take you away, safe, where no one will ever find you.”

“Then what? Running away doesn’t solve anything. This has to be
finished.”

“My darling Araminta, there is no ‘finish.’ The Void has been there for a
billion years, more probably. The Raiel couldn’t get rid of it; the
Commonwealth certainly can’t.”

“Somebody must be able to. There has to be a way.”

“Maybe ANA knew how.”

“They’ll get the Earth out eventually,” she said, suddenly fearful.
“Won’t they? They’ll be trying? They must be.”

“Yes. Of course they will. They’ll be trying very hard indeed. The rest
of the Commonwealth, certainly the Inner worlds, have a lot of talent and
ability and resources, more than you realize. They’ll bring down the barrier.”

“Right, then,” she said, trying to convince herself. “I’ll take that
option. I’ll call Oscar.”

Laril smiled weakly. “That’s my Araminta. Would you like me to call him
for you?”

She nodded. “Please. I’m too scared to access the unisphere.”

“All right. Have you got a code for him?”

“Yes.” She started typing it in.

“That’s good. I’ll make—”

The image on the screen broke apart into a hash of blue and red static.