The Evolutionary Void (4 page)

The twilight lingered for a long time, which cheered her; total darkness
would have been depressing and not a little bit scary. Stars slowly started to
twinkle overhead. None of the constellations were recognizable, certainly not
to her encyclopedia files.
I’m nowhere near the Greater
Commonwealth, then
. Despite that, she was confident she wasn’t far away
from a path that would take her there. She hadn’t even hesitated when she left
the oasis. She
knew
the direction she should take.

Her flagons were ridiculously heavy, yet she knew she had to carry as
much water as was physically possible. Her stomach wasn’t exactly feeling a
hundred percent, and hunger was now a constant nag. She thought that perhaps
the egg-things weren’t terribly nutritious for humans, after all. Still, at
least she hadn’t thrown up. That was a plus.

Araminta grinned at that. Strange how perceptions shifted so much
depending on circumstances. A week ago she’d been fretting about buyers for the
apartments producing their deposits on time and getting angry with late
suppliers. Now, not being sick as she tramped across an unknown desert halfway
across the galaxy counted as a reasonable achievement.

After three hours she made herself take a rest. The desert was illuminated
by starlight alone now. This world didn’t seem to have a moon. Some of the
stars were quite bright. She wished she knew enough astronomy to tell if they
were planets. Not that it mattered. She was committed now. It felt good having
a physical goal, something she could measure success with.

She drank some water, careful not to spill any. The eggs she left alone.
Save them for real hunger pangs
.

After half an hour she could feel the air becoming a lot cooler as the
day’s heat drained away into the sky. She zipped the fleece back up and set off
again. Her feet were sore. The boots were not designed for this kind of
walking. At least the terrain was level.

As she trudged on, she allowed herself to wonder what she was going to do
when she did reach the Commonwealth again. She knew she’d have only one chance,
one choice. Too many people were looking for her. Giving in to Living Dream was
something she instinctively shied away from. But Laril, for all he was loyal
and trying to help, was in way over his head.
Who isn’t?
Though perhaps he could negotiate with some faction.
But
which one?
The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced she
should contact Oscar Monroe. If anyone could offer her sanctuary, it would be
ANA itself. And if it was going to use her, there really was no hope.

Araminta kept plodding forward. Hunger and lack of true sleep were
getting to her. She felt exhausted but knew she couldn’t stop. She had to cover
as much ground as possible during the night, for she wouldn’t be going anywhere
during the day. Her limbs ached, especially her legs, as she just kept walking.
Every time she stopped to drink, it was more painful to haul the flagons onto
her back again. Her spine was really beginning to feel the weight. It was all
she could do to ignore the throbbing in her feet as her boots rubbed already
raw skin. Occasionally she’d shiver from the now-icy night air, a great spasm
running the length of her body. Whenever that happened, she’d pause for a
minute, then shake her head like a dog coming out of water and take that step
again.
I cannot quit
.

There were so many things she needed to do, so many things she had to try
to accomplish to stop the whole Living Dream madness. Her mind began to drift.
She saw her parents again, not the ones she argued with constantly in her late
teens but as they were when she was growing up, indulging her, playing with
her, comforting her, buying her a pony for Christmas when she was eight. Even
after the divorce she hadn’t bothered to call them. Too stubborn, or more like
stupid.
And I can just hear exactly what they’d say if I
told them I’d met Mr. Bovey and was going multiple
. Then there was that
time just after Laril went offplanet, clubbing with Cressida most nights, going
on dates. Being free, having fun discovering what it was like to be young and
single in the Commonwealth. Having independence and a little degree of pride
with it.

She wondered if any of that life would ever come back. All she wanted now
was for this dangerous madness to be over, for Living Dream to be defeated, and
for herself to become Mrs. Bovey. Was it possible to fade back into blissful
obscurity? Other people had done it; countless thousands had had their moment
of fame or infamy. Mellanie must have achieved it.

The timer in Araminta’s exovision flashed purple, along with an insistent
bleeping that wound down auditory nerves, drawing her attention back out of the
comfortable reverie. She let out a groan of relief and shrugged out of the
harness. At least it wasn’t so cold now. As she held up the flagon to drink,
she saw lights crawling across the starfield. She’d lived in Colwyn City long
enough to recognize starships when she saw them. “What the hell?” That was when
she realized the Silfen path was now behind her. “Ozzie!” Her mind felt a host
of quiet emissions within the gaiafield, originating somewhere nearby. She
hurriedly guarded her own thoughts, making sure nothing leaked out to warn
anyone of her presence.

So where in Ozzie’s name am I?

Araminta looked around again, trying to make out the countryside. There
wasn’t much to see, though she thought one section of the horizon was showing a
tiny glow. Smiling, she sat down to wait.

Half an hour later, she knew she was right. A pale pink wash of light
began to creep upward as dawn arrived. Now she could see she was still in a
desert, but this one was mostly ocher rocks and crumbling soil rather than the
featureless ocean of sand she’d left behind. The drab brown ground was broken
by small patches of green-blue vegetation, hardy little bushes that looked
half-dead. Tall fronds of pale cream grass tufts lurked in fissures and stone
spills, all of them dry and withered. Away in the distance, half-lost in air
shimmer, a broad line of mountains spiked up into the sky. Their height was
impressive, yet she couldn’t see any snow on their peaks. The desert stretched
all the way across to them. In the other direction was a low ridge, which she
began to appreciate was at least five miles away, if not farther. This
landscape was so relentlessly monotonous, it was hard to judge perspective.

Whatever, she was on a dirt track made by vehicles of some kind. It led
down a long gentle slope to a junction with a solid concrete road. Just the
sight of it was a huge relief. From living out in the boondocks of an External
planet for nearly twenty years, she knew just how rare roads could be, and that
was in the agricultural areas. Everybody used regrav capsules these days. To
find this here in the middle of a desert, she’d been lucky. Very lucky.

Thank you
, she told the Silfen Motherholme.

She took another drink of water and set off down the track. The distance
had fooled her, after all; the road seemed to stay in the same place no matter
how much ground she covered toward it. As she strode along the slope, she saw a
few regrav capsules flying beyond the ridge; in the other direction nothing was
moving above the vast desert. At least that told her which way to turn once she
reached the junction. There was obviously some kind of settlement on the other
side of the ridge. A few cautious examinations of the gaiafield confirmed that
that was where the buzz of minds was situated.

It took her another three hours to reach the crest of the ridge. Again,
“ridge” was deceptive. The closer she got, the larger it rose above her. It was
like an elongated hill. And the luck that had delivered the road had clearly
abandoned her; there wasn’t a single vehicle moving along it all morning.

By the time she finally limped to the crest, she was ready for just about
any sight apart from the one that greeted her. She’d almost been right about
the elongated hill. The ridge was actually a crater wall—a big crater, complete
with a beautiful circular lake that must have been at least twenty miles
across. This was the mother of all oases; the inner slopes were all smothered
in verdant woodland and cultivated terraces she thought might be vineyards. The
road dipped away ahead of her, winding into a small town whose colorful ornate
buildings were visible amid a swath of tall trees. Despite being completely
exhausted, aching everywhere, and feeling quite worried about the painful state
of her feet, Araminta couldn’t help choking out a little laugh as she stared
down at the exquisite vista before her. She wiped the tears from the corners of
her eyes and slowly discarded the flagon harness from her back. It was placed
carefully behind some rocks at the side of the road, followed by the basket of
eggs. With her shoulders rejoicing at the absence of weight, she started off
down the slope.

People stared at her as she hobbled into town. Hardly surprising. She
still had her silly conical hat on, and her clothes were a mess, filthy from
mud and repeated deluges. She guessed she must smell, too. When she allowed
herself to receive the local gaiafield, she could sense the instinctive
surprise everyone felt at the sight of her. Plenty of dismay was mingled in
there as well.

The little town’s buildings were mostly clapboard, painted a variety of
bright colors; there were very few modern construction materials visible. It
gave the town a comfortably quaint feel. The quiet old style suited the placid
lake.

Even with the shade thrown by tall willowy trees, it was hot in the
late-morning sun. There weren’t many people about. However, she eventually
sensed one old couple who didn’t quite share the disquiet of their fellow
citizens. The woman was even emitting a small amount of concern and sympathy
from her gaiamotes.

“Excuse me,” Araminta asked. “Can you tell me if there’s somewhere to
stay in town?”

The couple exchanged a look. “That’s an offworld accent,” the woman said.

Araminta pressed down on a giggle. To her the woman’s accent was strange;
she was almost slurring her words as she ran them together. Thankfully, the
pair of them weren’t wearing the old-fashioned kind of clothes Living Dream
followers usually favored. But then, it was unusual to see anyone whose body
had aged to such a degree. “Yes, I’m afraid so. I’ve just arrived.”

The woman emitted a glow of satisfaction. “Good for you, my dear. Have
you been away long?”

“I’m, er, not sure,” she replied honestly.

“I tried once,” the woman said with a tinge of melancholia. “Never got
anywhere. Maybe I’ll try again after rejuvenation.”

“Um, yes. That hotel …?”

“Why don’t you just get your u-shadow to find out?” the man asked. He had
a thatch of white hair that was slowly thinning out. His whole appearance made
him seem harmless, but the tone he used was quite sharp.

“I’m a Natural human,” Araminta offered by way of explanation.

“Now, Earl,” the woman chided. “There’s the SideStar Motel off Caston
Street, my dear. That’s four blocks this way.” She pointed and gave Araminta a
kindly smile. “Cheap, but clean with it. You’ll have no problem there.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“Do you have money?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Araminta gave them a jerky nod and set off. She stopped
after a couple of paces. “Uh, what is this place?”

“Miledeep Water,” the man said drily. “We’re on Chobamba’s equatorial
continent; that’s an External world, you know.”

“Right.” She smiled, trying to give the impression it had just slipped
her mind for a moment.

“In fact, we’re the only settlement on this entire continent, which is a
desert from shore to shore. Lucky you found us, really.” The irony was quite
blatant now, even through the odd accent.

“Yes.”

The woman gave him a mild jab with her hand, hushing him. Araminta smiled
again and backed off fast. As she went down Caston Street, she was
uncomfortably aware of the pair of them standing watching her. The man’s mind
was filling with mild amusement coupled with a trace of exasperation.

It could have been worse
, she told herself.
They could have been suspicious or recognized me
.

Araminta’s encyclopedia files said Chobamba had been settled for barely
two hundred fifty years. She guessed that the StarSide Motel was one of the
earlier businesses to be established. Its chalets were an exception to the
town’s clapboard buildings. They’d been grown from drycoral, which was now long
dead and starting to flake under the unremitting sun. It was a similar variety
to the pale violet dry coral they’d used for barns back on the farm in Langham,
so she knew that for it to reach such a state, it had to be at least a century
old.

The motel occupied a wide area, with the chalets spread out in a broad
circle to surround a swimming pool. Their concrete landing pads for visiting
capsules were all cracked, forced open by weeds and clumps of
unpleasant-looking red fungus balls. Only one capsule was currently parked.

Irrigation nozzles were squirting pulses of spray onto its front lawn as
she walked up to the reception building. She supposed the whole crater wall
must be irrigated.

The owner was in the back office, tinkering with an ancient
air-conditioning unit. He came out wiping his hands on his shabby white vest
and introduced himself as Ragnar. His glance swept up and down, giving her
clothes a quick appraisal. “Been a while since we’ve had anyone walk in,” he
said, stressing “walk.” His accent was the same as that of the old couple she’d
met.

“But I’m not the first?” she asked warily.

“No, ma’am. The Silfen path ends somewhere out there beyond the crater
wall. I’ve met a few travelers like yourself over the years.”