The Evolutionary Void (19 page)

“I never met her.”

“Some people are fortunate, others are not. That’s existence for you.”

“Is she a Silfen now?”

“Good question; depends how you define identity.”

“That sounds very … existential.”

“Face it, girlie, we’re the lords of existentialism. Shit, we invented
the concept back while your DNA was still trying to break free from mollusks.”

“Ignore him,” Bradley Johansson said. “He’s always like that.”

“Why am I here?”

“You want the existential answer to that?” Clouddancer asked.

“Carry on ignoring him,” Bradley Johansson said. “You’re here because, to
be blunt, this is your party.”

Araminta turned to look at the gap in the tent fabric, watching the
ceaseless colorful motion outside as the Silfen danced and sang beside the
loch. “My party? Why mine?”

“We celebrate you. We want to meet you, to feel you, to know you, the
daughter of our friend. That is what the Silfen are, absorbers.”

“Am I really worth celebrating?”

“That will become apparent only with time.”

“You’re talking about the Void.”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Why me? Why do I connect with a Skylord?”

“You have our communion; you know that.”

“I do now. That’s because of Mellanie, isn’t it?”

“You are our friend’s daughter, yes, and because of that you are also our
friend.”

“Magic is passed through the female side of the family,” Araminta
murmured.

“Load of bullshit,” Clouddancer said. “Our inheritance isn’t sexist;
that’s strictly your myth. Mellanie’s children acclimatized to their mother’s
communion in the womb, and they in turn pass the communion to their children.”

Araminta risked a sly smile at Bradley Johansson. “If that’s how it
works, the men won’t be able to pass it on.”

“Male children inherit the ability,” Clouddancer said. He sounded
belligerent.

“From females.”

Clouddancer’s wet tongue vibrated at the center of his mouth. “The point
is, girlie, you’ve got it.”

She closed her eyes, trying to follow the sequence. “And so do Skylords.”

“They have some kind of similar ability,” Bradley Johansson said. “The Motherholme
has occasionally sensed thoughts from within the Void.”

“Why doesn’t the Motherholme ask the Void to stop expanding?”

“Don’t think it hasn’t been tried.” The tip of Bradley Johansson’s tail
dipped in disappointment. “Ten million years of openness and congeniality gets
you precisely nowhere with the Void. We can’t connect to the nucleus. Or maybe
it just doesn’t want to listen. Even we didn’t know for sure what was in there
until Edeard shared his life with Inigo.”

“You can dream his life as well?”

“We’ve dreamed it,” Clouddancer said, managing to push a lot of disgust
into the admission. “Our communion is what your gaiafield is based on, after
all.”

“That was Ozzie,” Araminta said, pleased she wasn’t totally ignorant.

“Yeah, only Ozzie would treat a friendship like that.”

“Like what?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Bradley Johansson told her. “The point is that the
galaxy has a great many communion-style regions or effects or whatever. They’re
all slightly different, but they can interact when the circumstances are right.
Which is like once in a green supernova.”

“So you’re like some kind of conduit between me and the Skylord?”

“It’s a little more complex than that. You connect because within the
communion you have similarity.”

“Similarity? With a Skylord?”

“Consider your mental state after your separation. You were lost, lonely,
desperate for purpose.”

“Yes, thank you, I get the idea,” she said testily.

“The Skylord also searches; that is its purpose. The souls it used to
guide to the Heart have all gone, so now it and its kindred await new souls.
Their quest ranges from their physical flight within the Void to awareness of
mental states. Somehow, the two of you bridged the abyss between your universe
and its.”

“Is this how humans got in originally?”

“Who knows? Before Justine, nobody had actually seen the Void open up. It
didn’t for the Raiel armada; they forced their way through. But humans were
never the first it accepted. Occasionally we have felt other species flourish
briefly within. Always, the Void has consumed them.”

“So it has to be aware of the outside universe?” she pondered.

“In some fashion it must be. This is philosophical speculation rather
than substantiation. We don’t think it recognizes physical reality, not
outside. Perhaps it considers the universe beyond its boundary nothing but a
spawning ground for mind, rationality, which is what the nucleus absorbs as the
boundary absorbs mass.”

“Edeard and the people of Makkathran say that the Void was created by
Firstlives.”

“Yeah,” Clouddancer growled. “Such a thing cannot be natural.”

“So where are they now?”

“Nobody knows. Though you, our friend’s daughter, may be the one who
finds out.”

“I don’t know what to do,” she admitted. “Not really. There’s someone who
might be able to help, one of ANA’s agents. He’s already helped me once: Oscar
Monroe.”

Bradley Johansson sat in front of her, his tongue quivering fast at the
center of his mouth cavity. “I know Oscar. I fought with him in the Starflyer
War. He is a good man. Trust him. Find him, though your path will not be easy
after this.”

“I know. But I’ve made my mind up. I won’t lead Living Dream through the
boundary, no matter what.”

“That is the choice we knew you would make, daughter of our friend. Such
worthiness is why we came here to know you.”

“Tell her the rest,” Clouddancer said gruffly.

Araminta gave him an alarmed glance. “What? What else is there?”

“There is something out there, something new that emerged into our
universe as ANA fell to treachery,” Bradley Johansson said. “Something much
worse than Living Dream. It is waiting for you.”

“What?”

“Its full nature remains veiled, for we can sense it only faintly. But
what we glimpsed was greatly troubling. Humans have a dark side, as do most
living sentients, and this thing, this embodiment of intent, has come directly
out of that darkness. It is an evil thing; this we do know.”

“What sort of thing?” she asked fearfully.

“A contraption, a machine whose purpose is cold and malevolent. It cares
nothing for the spirit which all life houses, for laughter and song; even tears
it derides. And if it desires you, that can be for only one reason.”

To get into the Void,” she realized.

“For what reason we know not, yet we fear the worst,” Bradley Johansson
said. “It wishes to meddle with the galaxy’s destiny, to impose itself upon the
reality of every star. This cannot come to pass.”

“You must summon that which is most noble from your race, daughter of our
friend,” Clouddancer said. “Together you will make your stand against the dread
future which this thing craves for us all. It must never reach the Void. The
two of them must not become one.”

“How?” she implored. “How in Ozzie’s name do you expect me to do such a
thing? This is what the Commonwealth Navy is for. They have incredible weapons;
they can stop this creature-thing. I don’t know what it looks like, where it is
…”

Bradley Johansson reached out and took Araminta’s hand in his own. “If
that is what you believe, if that is truly what must be done, then that is what
you must achieve.”

“I thought I was just going to go into hiding while the factions and
Living Dream fought it out. That’s what I’d made my mind up to do.”

“Our destiny is never clear. Nonetheless, this is yours.”

“Can’t I just stay here?”

His leathery fingers bent around to stroke the top of her palm. “For as
long as you want, our friend’s daughter.”

Araminta nodded forlornly. “Which will be no time at all.”

“You have strength, you have courage, your spirit truly shines out, as
did Mellanie’s. Such a beautiful light cannot easily be quenched.”

“Oh, Ozzie!”

“What is it you wish to do?” Clouddancer asked. His tail flicked about
restlessly. Outside the tent the Silfen were still, waiting for her answer.

“A proper meal, a decent sleep, and then I’ll be on my way,” she promised
them. “I’ll do what I can.”

As one, the Silfen in the tent tipped their heads back and opened their
mouths wide. A mellifluent chant arose as those outside took up the call;
lyrical and uplifting, it swirled around her, making her smile in
acknowledgment. It was their tribute to her, their gratitude. For now she
finally realized the Silfen were frightened, scared their wondrous free-roaming
life might be brought to an end by the ominous thing human folly had birthed.
Yes, I’ll do what I can
.

Marius regarded the image of Ranto with something approaching amused
contempt. The gangly teenager was suddenly the second most important news item
in the Commonwealth; every unisphere show was featuring him. Reporters had
arrived in Miledeep Water soon after the faction agents. It hadn’t taken anyone
very long to discover that Araminta had stayed at the StarSide Motel. The
nervous manager, Ragnar, had come out of hiding as soon as reporters started
offering big money for his story, which sadly wasn’t much, mostly how he’d
hidden in his kitchen as weapons-enriched agents poured through his precious
StarSide Motel, hunting the Second Dreamer.

Ignored by the agents
, Marius mentally
corrected the story.

But Ranto was the real find as far as the news production teams were
concerned. The last person in Miledeep Water to see and speak to the Second
Dreamer herself.

“She was really pretty,” he was saying gormlessly as he stood in front of
the StarSide reception, surrounded by over a dozen reporters. “Not what I was
expecting. I’d already met her once before, that afternoon. She was sweet, you
know? Gave a good tip when I delivered her food.”

“Did she say where she was going?” a reporter asked.

“Naah, she just bought my bike and headed off to the Silfen path. Imagine
that. The Second Dreamer is riding my old bike between worlds.”

“And still our race wonders why we wish to accelerate our evolution,”
Ilanthe observed.

Marius didn’t respond. He remained annoyed at the way he’d been punished
over Chatfield. But now it looked as though his climb back to grace had begun.
Tellingly, it was Ilanthe herself who’d called him as he was checking
operations on Fanallisto. Semisentient scruitineers had been monitoring the
Delivery Man since his miserable, pleading call to Marius. Soon after that, the
Delivery Man had been contacted by another survivor of the Conservative
Faction, using an encrypted call that blocked any tracking. The scruitineers
had used the spaceport’s civic sensors to observe him taking a capsule out to
Lady Rasfay
. Then the yacht launched with the owner’s
authorization, which was interesting given that he’d been left lying naked and
unconscious alongside his young Firstlife mistress on the landing pad.

Ilanthe had been curious to know where the Delivery Man was heading and
who he was meeting up with. Not anxious—there was no urgency in her call—but
given that Araminta had unexpectedly fooled everyone yet again by somehow
getting off Chobamba, monitoring the remaining Conservatives was prudent.

Marius knew where the Delivery Man had to be going. If there was anything
left on Fanallisto, it was small-time, whereas the ultradrive starship was
still waiting at Purlap spaceport. Marius had flown there right away.

And he’d been proved right. His own starship had detected the
Lady Rasfay
approaching Purlap, and he’d called Ilanthe
immediately. Confirming his passage to redemption, she responded in person
rather than through Valean or Neskia.

“Do you want me to exterminate him?” Marius asked. His stealthed starship
was holding altitude a hundred kilometers directly above Purlap spaceport. It
wasn’t a particularly risky position; there were no more commercial flights in
or out.
Lady Rasfay
was rather conspicuous simply by
flying in.

Ranto was shoved to a peripheral aspect. Marius’s starship’s sensors
showed him the
Lady Rasfay
landing on the
spaceport’s naked rock close to the preposterous pink terminal building. The
Delivery Man walked down the airlock’s stairs, bracketed by targeting graphics.
Two hundred meters away, the ultradrive was parked on the rock where he’d left
it, a featureless dark purple ovoid resting on three stumpy legs.

“No,” Ilanthe said. “At this point we need information. Until we have
Araminta I need to know what the Conservatives are capable of. Follow him; find
out how many there are left and what they’re doing.”

“Understood.” Marius avoided saying anything else or letting his
satisfaction show. But the unusually cautious way Ilanthe was responding to the
situation was indicative of how everyone was being wrong-footed by Araminta.
Who could have known she was capable of using the Silfen paths? But her
uncommon abilities did explain a lot, possibly even how she’d become the Second
Dreamer in the first place.