The Evolutionary Void

TWO

HUNGER AND A NAGGING pain woke Araminta. At first she was woefully drowsy as she lay on the motel bed. Bright daylight was shining around the window blinds, warming the still air. Her stiff muscles protested as she tried to shuffle herself to a sitting position. Every part of her ached. Her feet throbbed. When she pulled the duvet aside to look at them, she actually winced at the sight.

“Oh, Ozzie.”

Well! It was no good just lying about feeling sorry for herself; the first thing was to get her feet cleaned up a bit. She eased her legs over the side of the bed and slowly stripped off her filthy clothes. Without doubt, they were ruined; she’d have to get rid of them.

The room had a cybersphere node beside the bed so old that it was probably the one installed as soon as the drycoral had finished growing into shape. Araminta started tapping away on its small keyboard, using the new account she’d opened at the Spanish Crepes office. Miledeep Water didn’t have a touchdown mall, but Stoneline Street at its center had a plethora of small stores that sold everything she needed. One by one she accessed their semisentient management programs and placed her orders, adding the items to the delivery service she’d hired.

She ran the bathwater at just below body temperature, then sat on the side and gingerly eased her feet in. The water soaked away the worst of the dirt and dried blood, leaving them looking slightly improved. She was letting them dry when there was a knock on the door. Thankfully, the motel supplied toweling robes. She’d assumed the delivery service would be a courier case floating along on regrav, all nice and impersonal. Instead, once she’d hobbled over to the door, a young teenage girl called Janice was waiting outside, wearing a cap with the delivery company’s logo and carrying a couple of large shoulder bags.

Araminta was thankful her hair was still all messed up and the threadbare robe was a ridiculous white and red stripe. Even if the girl knew all about the Second Dreamer, she’d never recognize her in this state.

“I think Ranto was pulling into the park out front,” Janice said as she handed the bags over to Araminta.

“Ranto?”

“You ordered takeaway from Smoky James? He runs delivery for them.”

“Ah. Yes. Right.” Araminta couldn’t work out if Janice was angling for a tip. It said a lot about Miledeep Water’s economy that they used people instead of bots for a service like this. In any case, Araminta could remember how only half a year ago she depended on the tips at Nik’s, so she produced the cash coin, which was obviously the right thing to do as Janice smiled in gratitude.

Ranto appeared before the door was even shut, handing over the five thermplastic boxes of food from Smoky James. That immediately kicked up a dilemma. Araminta was desperate to use some of the medical kit she’d bought, but the smell wafting out of the food boxes was too much for her stomach; she could actually hear it churning. She sat back on the bed and kept her feet off the floor as she started to open the boxes. There were pancakes in berry syrup and cream, followed by an all-day breakfast of smoked bacon, local chulfy eggs scrambled, hash browns, baked galow, and fried mushrooms; the drinks box had iced orange juice and a liter flask of English breakfast tea, and she finished with toasted muffins. By the time she’d finished eating, her feet didn’t seem to be aching quite so badly as before. Nonetheless, she applied the antiseptic cleaner, wincing at how much it stung, then sprayed both feet with artificial skin, sealing in the abused flesh. When she finished, she just curled up on the mattress where she was and went straight back to sleep.

It was dark when she woke, leaving her slightly disoriented. Something somewhere wasn’t quite right, and her subconscious was worrying away at it. She didn’t think it was another dream connection to the Skylord; at least she couldn’t remember having one during the last sleep. But on the plus side, she didn’t feel remotely hungry anymore. Time to think about me.

The bath had spar nozzles that didn’t work. Even so, she let it fill to the brim and poured in the scented soaps she’d bought. While it was running, she went back to the cybersphere node and laboriously typed in a request for information on Oscar Monroe. The antiquated search software pulled a list of references out of the unisphere; there were eight and a half million of them. The search hadn’t gone into deep cache databases.

“Great Ozzie,” she muttered, acknowledging just how much she missed her u-shadow, which would have sorted the information down to something useful in half a second. Another minute typing in new parameters and she’d filtered the list down to biographical details verified to the Commonwealth general academic standard-always a good starting point. That took it down to one point two million.

By then the bath was full. She got in and wallowed in the bubbles as the dirt slowly soaked off. Reading up on Oscar would have to wait a while, but at least she knew he had to be important. He hadn’t been lying about that. When she got out, she felt a whole lot better.

Araminta tipped the remaining contents of the bags onto the bed and started examining the clothes. Most of them had come from a camping store, which had provided her with practical hiking boots that came halfway up her shins. When she tried them on, they were impressively comfortable. The dark brown jeans were tough and waterproof, which raised some interesting questions given that she was on a desert continent. She shrugged into a simple black singlet, then put a loose burgundy T-shirt on top of that. A navy-blue fleece was similar to the one she’d brought with her, except this one was waterproof and the semiorganic fibers were temperature-regulated. She needed that function; even after sunset Miledeep Water’s climate was still baking from the desert air gusting over the ridge. All the other accessories-the knapsack, the water bottle (complete with manual filter pump), solar-store cooker, multipurpose blade, micro tent, gloves, thermal-regulated body stocking, hygiene pack, first-aid kit-meant she could now walk wherever and whenever she wanted. The notion made her smile grimly at the collection. Buying the gear had been instinctive. She knew Miledeep Water was only ever going to be a way station, though Chobamba itself might turn out to be a possibility.

She ran a hand back through her still-drying hair, suddenly unsure once more. Sitting worrying in a motel room wasn’t exactly choosing her own destiny. She sealed the fleece and went out to see what Miledeep Water had to offer by way of nightlife.

After half an hour walking along the nearly deserted streets she had her answer: not much. A few bars were open, along with some restaurants as well as several all-day autostores that were handy for people on a strict budget. Despite its location and the charming buildings, Miledeep Water was too much like Langham for her to be at ease. Small town with a matching attitude.

The emotions emerging from the gaiafield of a bar down by the waterfront attracted her. The people in there were rejoicing over something. As she drew close, she could hear some bad singing coming from the open door. The gaiafield emissions were stronger and more defined as she walked up to sparkly holographic light shining through the windows. Araminta allowed the images and sensations to wash through her mind, experiencing Justine waking up back in the Silverbird. The essence of her conversation with the Skylord reverberated through Araminta’s skull, enhanced by the rapture of those in the bar.

Justine is on her way to Makkathran.

Realization of exactly who was in the bar made the tentative smile fade from Araminta’s face: Living Dream followers, celebrating the latest development in their favor. Making very sure none of her bitter disappointment leaked out into the gaiafield to alert them, Araminta turned around and slunk away. That there were followers in Miledeep Water didn’t surprise her; they were on every External world in the Greater Commonwealth, and even the Central worlds weren’t immune. She wondered briefly what those in the bar would have done if she’d walked in, held her prisoner or fallen at her feet?

Maybe Justine will manage to do something. Araminta couldn’t quite recall the last dream she’d had, the one with Gore and Justine in some room. I must see the rest of Inigo’s dreams, find out what happened to Edeard, why he inspires everyone so. I have to understand exactly what I’m up against. Then she stopped dead in the middle of the street as her subconscious finally triggered the memory that had been bugging her: the time display on the unisphere node. Araminta hurried back to the SideStar Motel, not caring if anyone noticed her half jogging along the deserted pavements and ignoring the traffic solidos to race across intersections.

As soon as she was in the room, she locked the door and switched the unisphere node on. The central time display winking in the top corner of the screen always ran on Earth’s GMT, with a secondary display showing local time. Araminta immediately switched it to Viotia time and then Colwyn City. It took a moment while she did the mental arithmetic, aided by her macrocellular clusters, and then she ran the figures again. If she’d done it right, and the secondary routines in the macrocellular clusters were practically infallible, it was barely fifteen hours since she’d walked into Francola Wood. But that was impossible. She’d spent a whole day and night just trudging over that first wet, cold, miserable valley, then there had been the day by the oasis. The walk across the desert outside Miledeep Water, followed by sleeping the rest of the day away. That was when she worked it out-walking across the desert outside Miledeep Water and sleeping in the hotel accounted for a good twelve of those fifteen hours.

The Silfen paths took practically no time at all. How could that be? I wasn’t even on the paths the whole time. Sweet Ozzie, do they manipulate time on the planets as well? But then, who knows exactly where the planets are, what universe or dimension? Come to that, were they even real?

When she looked down at her feet encased in the cushioning artificial skin, she knew she’d walked somewhere and spent hours doing it. What had happened, or rather where and when she’d been along the Silfen paths, was of no consequence. She knew then that the Silfen wouldn’t let her use their paths and worlds as a refuge. It was instinctive knowledge, coming right from the heart of the Silfen Motherholme.

I really do have to face this myself.

“Oh, crap!” She picked up the bar of orange chocolate that had been part of the delivery and took a big bite before flopping back on the bed. There actually was no escape. So where do I start? Learning about Edeard was the obvious beginning, and to be honest, she was rather looking forward to immersing herself in his life again. But she felt it was more important to find out about Justine. She let her thoughts slow, mildly satisfied that she no longer needed Likan’s melange program to achieve the calm alert state required for any serious interaction with the gaiafield-not that the Skylord’s thoughts occupied that particular realm. It was to be found in some parallel domain, its thoughts serene and content.

“Hello,” she said.

“You are always welcome.”

“Thank you. And thank you for receiving our emissary. Are you the one accompanying her to Makkathran?”

“I am with my kindred.” The Skylord’s incredible senses revealed a vast swath of space between nebulae, devoid of stars. It flew on and on through the emptiness, followed by a flock of its own kind who called to one another across the Gulf. They were all gladdened that minds were once again emerging into the Void, giant somber thoughts enlivened by anticipation.

“Oh. Do you know where she is?”

“The one you seek is within our universe. This is known to us all. For that we all give thanks. Soon there will be more. Soon we will guide your kind to the Heart again.”

“Can you call to the one who is with her?”

“My kindred are departed across the universe. Most lie beyond my reach. I will encounter them again in time, within the Heart.”

“So how do you know one of us has arrived?”

“The Heart feels it. We all know the Heart.”

“Damn. Okay, thank you.”

“When will you come? When will you be here with your kind?”

“I don’t know.”

Araminta withdrew her mind from the connection and permitted herself a brief feeling of disappointment. It would have been nice to talk to Justine. Instead, she had only herself to rely on, a state she was growing accustomed to. Her mind reached out into the human gaiafield again, stealthily, slipping into the local confluence nests like a silent thief. Her thoughts fluttered around the sight, taste, and smell of Edeard, and up into her brain sprang the wonderful lazy awakening on a soft mattress as dawn stoked the sky over Makkathran. A kiss touched Edeard’s cheek, the phantom touch sending a delightful tingle along Araminta’s spine. A nose nuzzled her ear. Then a hand could be felt sliding down her/his stomach, and her smile widened at the naughty sensation. Jessile giggled close by and thousands of years ago. “Now, that’s what I call rising to greet the dawn,” she said.

The other girl giggled as well. Edeard’s eyes snapped open, and Araminta looked out through them into his maisonette.

The Ellezelin forces capsule slid over the smooth fast-moving surface of the Cairns. Directly ahead was a big old house with walls of white arches filled with purple and silver glass, surrounded by balconies that overhung a pool whose water glimmered an inviting turquoise. Well-maintained formal gardens flowed down the slope to the southern bank of the broad river. Even under the wan light that filtered through the gray clouds scudding against Colwyn City’s weather dome force field, the place looked inviting, a real home.

“Very fancy,” Beckia muttered as the capsule floated down onto the broad lawns. “The building supplies game must pay more than I realized.”

“In an External planet economy, going multiple is just a smart way of avoiding taxes,” Tomansio said dismissively. “Bovey wouldn’t be able to afford this if every one of hims paid income tax.”

The capsule door expanded.

“Can I trust you?” Oscar asked quietly. The other two froze, then looked at him. Beckia’s gaiafield emissions were spitting out resentment. Tomansio was amused more than anything.

“You can trust us,” Tomansio said, pushing a warm sensation of confidence into the gaiafield.

“She founded you. You wouldn’t even exist without her. And you’re all waiting for her return.”

“Common mistake,” Tomansio said. “We all understand her flaws, but we don’t forgive her. We were born out of her determination, but now we have grown far beyond her.”

“Pupil and master relationship, huh?” Oscar queried.

“Exactly. She accomplished a lot in her time, most of which was disastrous. We are about the only good thing that ever emerged from the Cat’s life.” He raised an eyebrow. “Unless she did have children …”

Oscar simply responded with a wry smile.

“Quite,” Tomansio continued. “So her continuing existence, albeit in suspension, is something of an embarrassment to us. It leads to misunderstandings like this one.”

“Far Away rioted when Investigator Myo arrested her,” Oscar countered.

“Far Away did,” Beckia said. “We didn’t. By that time she’d grown to a symbol of Far Away’s independence. Arresting her was seen as a political act of repression against the planetary government by an authoritarian Commonwealth. I’d point out the riots didn’t last long once the details of the Pantar Cathedral atrocity became known.”

“But her principles remain with us,” Tomansio said. “The dedication to strength. Ever since our founding we have never broken our code. We stay loyal to our client, no matter what. Not even the Cat broke that. And we certainly wouldn’t double-cross you. Oscar, you demonstrated the ultimate human strength when you martyred yourself so our species could survive. I told you before, we respect you almost as much as the Cat.”

Oscar looked into Tomansio’s handsome face, so redolent with sincerity, a note backed up by his gaiafield emission. He fervently hoped his own embarrassment at such a proclamation wasn’t evident. “Okay, then.”

“Besides, that wasn’t our Cat, not the founder of the Knights Guardian. If we weren’t committed to you, I would take a great deal of satisfaction in tracking her down and finding out exactly which faction has violated our Cat for its own ends. Didn’t you say they’d cloned more of her?”

“Not anymore,” Oscar said flatly, and walked out of the capsule. Beckia and Tomansio shared a quiet smile and followed him out onto the trim lawn.

Mr. Bovey had come out of the house to meet the capsule, three of hims. Oscar hadn’t met a multiple before, at least not knowingly. He couldn’t ever recall hearing about any on Orakum. The leader of the trio, the one standing in front, had black skin and a face that had even more wrinkles than Oscar’s; several gray strands were frosting his temples. To his left was a tall Oriental male, and the third was a young teenager with a thick mop of blond hair. None of them was releasing anything into the gaiafield. However, their posture alone told Oscar they were going to be extremely stubborn.

Oscar’s immediate response was to regret wearing the Ellezelin forces uniform, which was a huge visual trigger for any Viotia citizen right now. Then a deeper guilt began to manifest. He wasn’t here backed by Ellezelin authority; his sponsor was a whole lot more powerful than that. That was the problem. Marching into someone’s home with the authority and force to demand his cooperation was exactly the kind of fascistic repression that had so animated the young Oscar Monroe’s political instincts, which in turn led to him joining the Socialist Party at college and ultimately being seduced by radical elements. A journey that ended in the tragedy of Aberdan station.

Talk about going full circle. But we have to find her. Overriding necessity, the siren call of tyrants everywhere. Yet I know she cannot be allowed to fall into the hands of the factions. Damn, how does Paula live like this?

“What do you want?” the first Mr. Bovey asked sourly.

Oscar grinned, letting his amusement free in the gaiafield. “Oh, come on. We know you and her had a thing.”

The three Mr. Boveys stared defiantly ahead.

“Look,” Oscar said reasonably, and plucked at his tunic. “This uniform, it’s a load of bollocks. We’re not Living Dream. I’ve never even been to Ellezelin. I work for ANA.”

“Yeah? And I work for the Raiel,” Mr. Bovey replied, all three of hims speaking in concert. “So that makes us both supersecret agents.”

“I saw her at Bodant Park. Me and my team here, we covered for her so she could get free. Ask her. We’re the reason she’s still out there. If she still is.”

There was a flicker of uncertainty in the black Mr. Bovey’s eyes. “I met Araminta a few times, that’s all.”

“It was more than that. Come on, man, she’s in shit so deep, she’ll drown if she doesn’t get some serious outside help. So please, if you know where she is, tell me.”

“I haven’t seen her for days.”

Tomansio grunted in understanding. “She didn’t tell you, did she? You didn’t know she was the Second Dreamer?”

Mr. Bovey’s scowl deepened; none of hims would look at Tomansio.

“Hell, that’s got to suck,” Oscar said. “She was probably trying to protect you.”

“Right,” Mr. Bovey said.

“She was frightened, you know that. This planet was invaded just because she lives here. And she’s all alone. She doesn’t know what she’s doing; really, she hasn’t got a clue. If you know where we can find her, if you have any notion where she might be, then we’re the ones you need to tell. Call ANA if you need my status confirmed. There are others out there who are looking equally hard, and I don’t mean Living Dream. The Second Dreamer is an important political tool right now. Who do you think caused the Bodant Park fight?”

“Bodant Park massacre,” Mr. Bovey said. “You unleashed a massacre on our planet. There were hundreds killed.”

“That was just the warm-up,” Tomansio said. “The agents involved in hunting her down will not give a crap about civilians who get in the way. Memory read will be the least of your worries when the others come here. And they will. Soon.”

“We found you,” Beckia said. “The rest won’t be far behind. Think. Be real. The most powerful organizations in the Greater Commonwealth are looking for her. Your entire planet has been invaded because Living Dream is so utterly desperate. Do you really, really think she can elude all of us?”

“I didn’t know,” the young blond one said through teeth he’d clamped together. “She didn’t tell me. How could she not tell me what she’d become?”

“If she loved you, she would be trying to keep you out of all this,” Oscar said. “It was sweetly naive, and that time is now over. You have to make a choice. Do you want to actively help her? If so, talk to us. If not, run. Each of yous will have to try and make a break for it and pray that you don’t all get caught.”

The three of hims turned to look at one another. Oscar was aware of the figures he could just see in the house standing still. “Give me a moment,” Mr. Bovey said.

Oscar nodded sympathetically. “Sure.” He moved away, talking to his team in a low voice. “What do you think?”

“He doesn’t know anything,” Beckia said. “If he did, he’d be out there helping her. He’s broken up by her cutting loose; he loves her, or thought he did.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” Tomansio said.

“There could be a dozen of hims out there right now helping to shelter her,” Oscar pointed out.

Tomansio pushed out a reluctant sigh. “I find that hard to credit.”

“Can you actually do a memory read on a multiple?” Beckia asked.

“You’d probably have to gather all of them up,” Tomansio said. “And you wouldn’t know if you’d got them all until it was too late. Multiples are always cagey about their exact number of bodies; it’s an instinctive safety redundancy thing. Interesting psychological evolution. In any case, our time scale doesn’t allow us that level of luxury. If he’s going to be useful, it’ll have to be voluntary, and right now.”

Oscar’s u-shadow told him Cheriton was calling on an ultrasecure channel. Liatris joined the call.

“Brace yourself for the bad news,” the gaiafield expert said. “Living Dream has found her.”

“Shit,” Tomansio grunted, throwing Mr. Bovey a guilty glance. “Where?”

“Now, this is where it gets real interesting. After the confluence nests caught her at Bodant, Living Dream has been refining the emotional resonance routines based on her exact thought patterns. The upgrade has given them the kind of sensitivity which can detect the slightest emission from her mind. And a quarter of an hour ago she went and shared Inigo’s Eighth Dream.”

“What’s she doing delving into the Waterwalker’s life now?” an irritated Beckia asked. “For Ozzie’s sake, didn’t Bodant teach her anything?”

“Wrong question,” Cheriton said.

“Where is she?” Tomansio asked.

“Chobamba.”

A puzzled Oscar had to call up the Commonwealth planetary list from a storage lacuna. “That’s over six hundred light-years away,” he protested. “That can’t be right. She was here sixteen hours ago.”

“Your ultradrive could make that,” Tomansio said doubtfully. “Just.”

“She’s found a way to screw the gaiafield,” Beckia said. “She must have. She is the Second Dreamer, after all. That has to give her some kind of ability the rest of us don’t have.”

“Cheriton, are you sure?” Tomansio asked.

“We’re confined to the building,” Cheriton said. “And I’m using a dead-drop relay to access the unisphere. Dream Master Yenrol’s been going apeshit since the nests found her. All the Dream Masters know about it; they’re working hard to keep it secret. I don’t think this is a scam.”

“How the hell did she get to Chobamba?” Oscar wanted to know.

“Do they know where on Chobamba?” Tomansio asked.

“Not yet,” Cheriton said. “But it’s only going to be a matter of time. It’s an External world, and Living Dream has several Dream Masters there.”

“Can you warn her again?” Oscar said.

“I’m not sure. There’s talk about shutting down Chobamba’s confluence nests, isolating her from the gaiafield.”

“Stupid,” Tomansio said. “That’ll alert her to what’s going on.”

“Liatris, can you shotgun Chobamba and warn her?” Oscar asked.

“She hasn’t accessed the unisphere for days,” Liatris said. “There’s no guarantee she’ll get the message.”

“If people know, it’ll be the talk of the planet,” Beckia said. “She’s bound to find out. We just have to make it public knowledge.”

Tomansio gave Oscar a little nudge. Mr. Bovey had obviously come to his decision. The dark-skinned body was walking over to them, leaving the other two hims to stare pensively.

“Yes?” Oscar said.

“I checked with ANA,” Mr. Bovey said. He sounded faintly surprised. “You are who you say.”

“And?”

His face expressed a great deal of apprehension, mirrored by all of hims. “She doesn’t know … she can’t know how to cope with this. Nobody can. I have to place my trust in ANA. How ironic is that? Being multiple is supposed to alleviate the requirement of a technological solution to immortality.”

“Can you contact her?”

“No.” Mr. Bovey shook his head as if hes were mourning. “I’ve tried every minute since I found out. Her u-shadow is offline. She won’t answer my calls.”

“I know this is painful, but is there someone else she’s likely to turn to?”

“Her cousin Cressida; they were close. In fact, she was about Araminta’s only true friend in Colwyn City before we met.”

“We know. She’s dropped out of sight as well, but thank you. If Araminta does get into contact, please let me know.” Oscar’s u-shadow sent Mr. Bovey a unisphere access code. “Immediately, please. Time is critical now.”

“That’s it?” a bewildered Mr. Bovey asked as Oscar turned back to the capsule.

“Don’t worry, we’ll keep looking. And you might want to consider my friend’s advice about dispersing yourselves about town. I’m being completely honest with you; we’re just the first to come visiting you, and we really are the good guys.”

The capsule’s door closed on Mr. Bovey’s frown. They lifted cleanly and turned to fly above the thick river, heading back to the docks.

“So now what?” Tomansio asked.

It sounded rhetorical to Oscar. “I’m going to check in,” he told the Knights Guardian.

“Yes?” Paula asked as soon as the secure link was opened.

“We’ve found her,” Oscar said.

“Excellent.”

“Not really. She’s on Chobamba.”

There was only a small hesitation. “Are you sure?”

“Living Dream has cranked up their confluence nests, something to do with getting a decent emotional pattern to recognize. According to them, she’s on Chobamba and having a good time sharing Inigo’s dreams.”

“That doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

“How quickly can you get there?”

“Not much faster than you.”

“I hope you’ve got sources in Living Dream. If they are going to try and snatch her, she’ll need to be warned.”

“I’d have to find her first.”

“Surely ANA can track her down. Somebody must have noticed her starship arriving.”

“It would have to be an ultradrive; that means a faction helped her. But which one?”

“I was thinking of a shotgun warning.”

“Yes. That might work. I’ll confer.”

“If we know, then it’s only a matter of time before the Cat knows.”

“Yes. If she leaves for Chobamba, you’ll have to follow her.”

“Oh, crap; this isn’t what I signed up for.”

“Can you trust your team?”

“I think they’ll stick with me, yes.”

“Excellent. I’ll call after I’ve spoken with ANA. Incidentally, the Accelerators are going to be put on what amounts to a trial within an hour. They were behind the Oscean Empire invasion.”

“Shit. Really?”

“Yes. If they’re found guilty, we should see the pressure easing off considerably,” Paula said, ending the call.

Tomansio and Beckia were looking at Oscar expectantly.

“So what does your boss think?” Tomansio asked.

“Same as us: It’s all very odd. Let’s get back to the ship in case we need to get to Chobamba in a hurry.”

The slim ultradrive ship dropped out of hyperspace half a light-year out from Ellezelin. In its cabin, Valean reviewed the data provided by the starship’s sensors. She was shown the exotic matter intrusions representing the huge wormholes that linked Ellezelin to the economically subjugated planets that made up the Free Trade Zone. The scale of the wormholes was impressive, harking back to the first-era Commonwealth when the Big15 planets were the center of an economic web binding together hundreds of worlds. Reviewing the size and power rating, she was satisfied that any of them could be used for the task Atha had assigned her. The one connecting to Agra would be preferable; it was the most modern and reached the farthest.

Like most long-term Highers, Valean had used biononics to remold her body to a state she considered more functional and useful. Currently devoid of hair, she appeared skeletal, with skin that had a strange gray iridescence, drawn so tight over her bones that each rib protruded. Muscles were hard lines, also standing proud and moving like malmetal. Her face continued the emaciated theme with deep sunken cheeks and a slim nose that had nostrils resembling gills. Wide-set eyes had orbs that glowed a faint uniform pink. Her only cosmetic adornment was a circle of gold above her thorax, composed of a tightly packed cluster of threads that seemed to be moving slowly.

After ten minutes standing in her featureless cabin, the starship detected a minute distortion within the quantum fields. Another ultradrive ship dropped out of hyperspace next to hers. The newcomer was slightly larger, with streamlined bulges in its ovoid fuselage. They maneuvered together and linked airlocks.

Marius glided into Valean’s cabin, his toga suit emitting wisps of darkness that trailed along in his wake.

“A physical meeting is somewhat theatrical, isn’t it?” he inquired. “Our TD (transdimensional) linkages remain secure.”

“They do,” Valean assured him, and smiled, revealing rows of tiny burnished brass teeth. “However, it was felt that this would add more emphasis to the message.”

“Which is?”

“Your Chatfield fuck-up has produced an unwelcome fallout, the largest part of which I’m on my way to solve.”

“Paula Myo was on to him. Deploying him to Ellezelin was a simple precaution.”

“And do you have an excuse for the Cat?”

Marius remained impassive. “Her behavior can be unpredictable. That is her nature. As I recall, it was not my decision alone to salvage her from Kingsville.”

“Irrelevant. Your actions have produced unwelcome consequences at this critical time. As of now you are downgraded.”

“I object.” Even as he said it, he tried to call Ilanthe, only to find the call rejected. Still, his cool disposition remained unbroken.

The brass teeth appeared again, their sharp tips perfectly aligned. “Irrelevant. Your new assignment is the Delivery Man.”

“That joke!” Marius exclaimed.

“We approach deployment, the culmination of everything we are. Nothing can be allowed to interfere with that. He was seen on Fanallisto; find out why. What is he doing there, what are the Conservatives up to? We also need to know how the remaining faction agents will react afterward.”

“Victory is only hours away and you send me to some shitball outside civilization to track down an incompetent part-time animal. I do not deserve this.”

“Failure to comply will result in bodyloss. After the Swarm goes active, there will be no re-life available. I suggest you make your selection.”

The dark hazy tendrils exuded by Marius’s toga suit swirled in agitation. He glared at Valean, sending Olympian contempt flooding out through his gaiamotes. “The true reason for physical contact, I see. Very well. I will comply. I am nothing if not devoted to our success.”

“Of course you are.”

Marius rotated a hundred eighty degrees and slipped out back to his own ship.

“Thank you,” Valean mouthed at the airlock door after it closed. She ordered the smartcore to take her to Ellezelin.

Cleric Conservator Ethan had returned to the Mayor’s oval sanctum in the Orchard Palace. The Cabinet Security Service had downgraded the threat level, partially based on Ethan’s own conversation with ANA:Governance. The surviving ship was simply maintaining a stable orbit around Ellezelin and gathering up fragments of its vanquished foe.

His staff had served him a late supper of grilled gurelol fillets with minted potatoes and baby carrots, washed down with a sparkling white similar in taste to the one from Love’s Haven that Edeard had come to enjoy during his first life with Kristabel. It was dark outside, with few stars showing through the oval sanctum’s windows. Ethan ate by himself at a small table away from the big muroak desk, overhead a series of petal-like lines glowing a pale orange in the high ceiling. Shadows washed out from the walls, making the room seem even larger.

He was just pouring himself a second glass of wine when his u-shadow reported that Phelim was making a priority call.

Please, Lady, no more bad news tonight, Ethan thought wearily as he accepted the secure link. He was still awaiting the call from Marius’s “friend.”

“We’ve found her,” Phelim declared.

Ethan paused, the wine not quite out of the bottle’s neck. “Who?”

“The Second Dreamer. The advanced pattern recognition routines located her for us. She’s sharing Inigo’s Eleventh Dream, would you believe.”

“Great Lady! Do you have her safe?”

“No, that’s where the problem begins. She’s not on Viotia anymore.”

“Damn. Where is she, then?”

“Chobamba.”

“Where?” Even as he asked, Ethan’s u-shadow was pulling data out of the central registry. “That can’t be right,” he said, putting the bottle down.

“My response exactly. But the routines are good. The Dream Masters running them swear that’s an accurate reading. She started sharing the Eighth Dream twenty minutes ago.”

“The Eighth?”

“Yes.”

Ethan knew it couldn’t be particularly relevant, but his curiosity about the enigmatic Araminta was overwhelming. “So why did she skip over to the Eleventh?”

“She didn’t,” Phelim said. “She’s on a linear run-through.”

“Four dreams in twenty minutes?” Ethan said it out loud, his surprise echoing around the empty sanctum. At best, he would take a couple of hours to dwell in one of Inigo’s dreams, and that was because he was so familiar with them. Some of the more devout Living Dream followers had been known to spend days in a dream, supporting themselves with intravenous feeds.

“Absolutely. That’s what convinced me this isn’t a false reading. Her mind is … different.”

“How in the Lady’s name did she get to Chobamba? It was definitely her at Bodant Park; you confirmed that.”

“Someone must have flown her there. And it must have been an ultradrive starship; there’s nothing else fast enough.”

“So one of the factions got her and lifted her offplanet. Lady damn them.”

“That’s the obvious conclusion. But it’s a strange way to hide. If she wanted to be completely secure, she should have gone to a Central world where we have no control over the confluence nests. The faction must know that. Perhaps this is a message. Though its nature eludes me.”

Ethan sat back in the chair, staring at the slim curving bands of light in the ceiling. The flowers they sketched had never been seen on Querencia or anywhere in the Greater Commonwealth. That is if they even were flowers. Edeard had always hoped to find them, but not even the grand voyages of his twenty-eighth and forty-second dreams had taken him to a land where they grew. And now Araminta was providing an even greater mystery.

“We have to have her,” Ethan declared. “It’s that simple. Whatever the cost. Without her, the only contact humanity has to the Void is”-he shuddered-“Gore Burnelli. And I think we know where he stands.”

“Justine can do nothing,” Phelim countered smoothly.

“Don’t be too sure. They are a remarkable family. I’ve been accessing what I can of their history. And I suspect there’s a great deal that was never put into any records. Gore was one of ANA’s founders, you know. There are rumors of a special dispensation.”

“So what do you want to do?”

“How long before you have her exact location?”

“She’s in a town called Miledeep Water, which presents us with a slight problem. It is somewhat isolated, and we don’t actually have anyone reliable there. The Dream Masters are going to have to visit its confluence nest to get an exact coordinate for her. It’ll be an hour before we know exactly where she is, probably longer. I’m just hoping she shares Inigo’s dreams for long enough.”

“Do we also have the kind of people on Chobamba who are capable of bringing her to us?”

“There are some very loyal followers in the movement there, people I can trust. I’d like to suggest we hire some weapons-enriched troops to back them up. It’s pretty clear she’s got faction representatives guarding her.”

“As you wish. And Phelim, I don’t want another Bodant Park.”

“Nobody does. But that is probably out of our hands.”

“Yes. I expect you’re right. Please keep me informed of progress.”

The link to Phelim closed, and Ethan looked at the rapidly cooling food on his plate. He pushed it away.

“You seem troubled, Conservator.”

Ethan started, twisting around in his chair to see where the voice had come from. His u-shadow was already calling for help from Cabinet Security.

The woman-thing walking calmly out of the shadows on the other side of the desk disturbed his sensibilities. “I believe you’re expecting me,” she said. She was naked, which only intensified Ethan’s censure; her body possessed no sexual characteristics. Her skin was some kind of artificial covering that produced a gray layer whose exact boundary was indeterminable. Far worse than that was her figure. It was as though her internal organs were too small for her frame, leaving the skin to curve in between the ribs. And her eyes didn’t help, little patches of pink moonlight that never revealed exactly what she was looking at. There was a gold circle just below her neck from which sprouted two long streamers of dark scarlet cloth. The fabric was draped across her shoulders to float horizontally through the air for several meters behind her. It rippled with the sluggish fluidity of an embryo sac.

Five armored guards burst in through the main doors, their fat weapons raised. The Higher woman cocked her head to one side while the gaiafield revealed a steely politeness in her mind.

Ethan held up a finger. “Hold,” he instructed the guards. “Did Marius send you?”

A narrow mouth opened to reveal shiny metal teeth. “Marius has been moved to other duties. I am Valean, his replacement. I am here to help sort out our mutual problem with the ANA starship orbiting above you.”

Ethan waved the guards out, suspecting they wouldn’t have lasted long against her. “What do you want?”

She walked toward him, the scarlet streamers wavering sinuously behind her. Ethan saw that her heels ended in long tapering cones, as if her feet had grown their own stilettos. “I require access to the Agra wormhole generator. Please inform the operations staff I am to be given full cooperation.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Prevent the ANA agent from retrieving any more fragments.”

“I can’t afford any kind of conflict with ANA. Some in the Senate are eager for the flimsiest legal grounds to authorize navy intervention.”

“We are expecting that any such concerns will soon be irrelevant. Rest assured, Cleric Conservator, there will be no physical clash here.”

“Very well. I will see that you have full clearance.”

“Thank you.” She inclined her head and turned for the main doors.

“Please tell your faction leaders I would prefer to deal with Marius,” he said.

Valean didn’t even turn around. “I will certainly tell them.” There was no trace of irony in her thoughts; the facade of politeness remained intact.

The doors shut behind her. Ethan let out a long breath of apprehension; he felt as if he’d finally been shown what awaited the lost souls who fell to Honious.

Preliminary sensor analysis of the debris cloud indicated there were one thousand three hundred twelve critical fragments, defined as anything over five centimeters across. When Chatfield’s starship exploded, over a third of them had been thrown down toward Ellezelin on trajectories that would see them burning up in the atmosphere within half an hour. The rest were whirling rapidly along wildly different orbital tracks. Recovery would be a bitch.

Digby was quietly pleased at the way the Columbia505’s smartcore was handling the collection operation. Modified ingrav drive emissions were pulling fragments out of their terminal trajectories; sensors had identified several particles that had exotic matter constituents and were tracking them constantly. The sleek ultradrive ship was darting about, drawing the first chunks into the midhold, where they were embedded in a stabilizer field. ANA:Governance had assured him a forensic team would be arriving within ten hours. Digby hoped so. Stabilizer fields weren’t designed to preserve exotic matter; a lot of it was decaying right in front of him, and there was nothing he could do about it.

His exovision suddenly threw up warnings he never expected to see. A very large wormhole was intruding into space not three kilometers from the Columbia505.

“What the hell?”

The smartcore tracked several chunks of wreckage tumbling down the wormhole’s throat. Then the wormhole shifted exit coordinates, reappearing five kilometers away. More junk was sucked down. Exoimage displays showed him it was the wormhole that normally linked Ellezelin to Agra. Somebody was redirecting it with unnerving skill, scooping up precious evidence. His u-shadow connected him directly into the planetary cybersphere and tried to access the generator net. “It’s been isolated,” the u-shadow reported. “I can’t even gain access to the building net. Whoever’s in there, they’ve sealed themselves in tight.”

Columbia505’s sensors swept across the generator complex on the outskirts of Riasi, seven thousand kilometers away around the curvature of the planet. A force field was protecting the whole area. “Crap.” Digby ordered the smartcore to distort the wormhole’s pseudo structure. Negative energy fluxes reached out from the starship’s drive, attempting to destabilize the wormhole’s integrity. But the planetary generators had too much power available compared with the starship. It was a struggle Digby was doomed to lose.

“Take us down,” he ordered the smartcore. “Fast.” As the starship dived down into the atmosphere, he called ANA:Governance and explained what was happening.

“I will call the Cleric Conservator,” ANA:Governance said. “He must be made to understand that he cannot act against us with impunity.”

Digby was pretty sure the Cleric Conservator knew that but held his counsel. It was long gone midnight in Makkathran2, which meant that Riasi was just slipping across the terminator line into daylight. Columbia505 was decelerating at fifteen gees when it hit the stratosphere above the Sinkang continent, upon whose northern coast the ex-capital city was sited. The ship scorched its way down through the lower atmosphere like a splinter carved from a star’s corona. It braked to a halt five hundred meters directly above the Agra wormhole generator’s force field. The hypersonic shock wave of its passage slammed past it, shattering all unprotected panes of glass within a three-kilometer radius. Nearby regrav capsules tumbled through the air like leaves in a blizzard as their smartnets used emergency power to try to right them. Local traffic control was screaming warnings at Digby on every frequency. Metropolitan police cruisers curved around to intercept. He sent out a blanket broadcast to be picked up by every cybersphere node and macrocellular cluster surrounding the force field.

“Everyone in the generator complex, switch off the force field and deactivate the wormhole. You are violating an ANA-sanctioned operation. I am authorized to use extreme force to end your transgression.”

As he suspected, there was no reply. There never would be, he knew. Every moment he waited, playing the good guy, was another moment spent eradicating the precious evidence in orbit. All that left him with was the problem of knocking out the force field without flattening half the city.

Eight slender atomic distortion beams stabbed out from the starship to the top of the force field dome, ripping the air molecules apart in a blaze of incandescence. Monstrous static discharges flared away into the heaving atmosphere. The force field began to glow a pale purple, as if it were growing a bruise. A cluster of dump webs skittered down from the Columbia505. They struck the force field, kicking out blooms of dusky ripples. The darkness around them intensified, expanding rapidly. Under such an assault, overload was only a matter of time. The force field collapsed amid a deluge of wild energy flares and superheated shock waves that battered the surrounding buildings. Columbia505 received a heavy buffeting, which the smartcore fought to counter and hold stable above the circle of glaring ion flames that were eating into the generator building. Sensors reported the wormhole had failed. Digby was worried about how much evidence it had already cleared away.

Ellezelin Civil Defense Agency force fields were coming on above Riasi, a series of large interlocking hemispheres protecting the city’s districts. Five large Ellezelin navy cruisers were racing around the planet, their trajectories curving sharply to position them above the city.

A starship hurtled up from the buckling generator complex, accelerating at nearly forty gees. It fired a barrage of energy beams and disrupter pulses at the Columbia505. Digby found himself gripped by safety webbing as the starship spun helplessly. Planetary atmosphere was an alien milieu for it; systems designed for combat in the clear vacuum of space were operating below optimum, fogged by the dense gases. The force field shimmered a vivid amber, spitting off glittering scintillations while Digby’s vulnerable inner ears conjured up a wave of nausea. Far below, consecutive shock waves crashed down across the beleaguered commercial buildings and warehouses that comprised Riasi’s sprawling interstellar commerce district.

The Columbia505 leveled out, and the routines in Digby’s macrocellular clusters neutralized the nausea. Exoimage displays showed him the other starship streaking up through the troposphere, a huge ionic contrail shimmering behind it. “Follow it,” Digby ordered the smartcore. The air above the shaken city howled yet again as the Columbia505 powered its way up, ignoring the cruisers that were attempting to converge on it. The other starship slipped into hyperspace. Columbia505 followed.

“Why?” Paula asked before Digby had even cleared the Ellezelin system. “Those fragments were vital. We’ll lose most of them now.”

“Forensic analysis was only ever a long shot,” Digby countered. “I determined the faction ship was a much better lead. They risked a lot to obstruct my collection operation.”

“Which implies the fragments you were recovering were important.”

“My judgment,” Digby insisted, wishing he didn’t feel quite so small. No other human-Higher, Advancer, or normal-could ever make him feel so inadequate and defensive as his great-grandmother.

“Indeed it was, and you’re committed now. How good is the sensor reading?”

“Holding steady. They’re stealthed, of course, but my smartcore can still detect some distortion. It’s a good ship they’ve got, equal to Chatfield’s.”

“All right. I’d probably have done the same in your circumstances. You stay with it and see where that representative is going. The ANA judicial conclave is beginning now. I’m expecting the entire Accelerator Faction to be shut down within the next hour or two.”

“Excellent.”

“It has its problems, not least the agents and representatives still at large, like the one you’re following. I suspect we’re going to be a long time mopping up.”

“At least we’ll have a complete list of them and their activities.”

“Yes, that should help. Let me know when the ship reaches some kind of destination.”

“Of course.” Digby scowled as the secure call ended. This whole mission was proving very unsatisfactory. He was leaving too many unanswered questions behind him as he tagged along after the latest possible lead. He was also feeling plenty of stress from the destruction he’d caused and then fled from in Riasi. There would have been a lot of bodyloss due to his actions.

After a quarter of an hour it was clear the faction ship was heading in toward the Central worlds. It looked like the destination was Oaktier.

There had been only one judicial conclave in ANA’s history. It had been called to deal with the Separatist Faction, which had wanted to break ANA up, leaving them in a section free from any regulation or limit imposed by the base law control that acted as a universal governor across the entire edifice. The majority verdict was to disallow any such action. An entity with ANA’s ability and resources and under the authority of a dogmatic ideology might conceivably pose a threat to the original ANA, not to mention the rest of the Greater Commonwealth. The duplicitous method by which the Separatist Faction had sought to seize command of the quasi-physical mechanism that sustained ANA in order to achieve the segmentation was verification enough that they couldn’t be trusted to evolve quietly in some distant corner of the galaxy. A whole host of other agendas to encourage postphysical ascension were exposed at the conclave.

As before, ANA:Governance produced a spherical assembly arena with an equivalent diameter half that of Earth itself. Such a size was necessary to accommodate the manifested forms of every individual mind embedded within the edifice of ANA. They appeared within seconds of the judicial conclave being announced, materializing across the vast curving shell, clustering with those of their own factions or in simple groupings of friends or relatives. Ilanthe, as the nominated representative of the Accelerator Faction, floated at the center of the sphere. She had chosen to manifest as her primary representation, a featureless human female with fluid silver skin. Only her face retained any characteristics, showing a long jawbone and a small elegant nose. Her eyes were the absorptive black of an event horizon.

“Thank you for responding,” ANA:Governance said to the convened population.

Ilanthe performed a random sweep over sections of the assembly arena, noting the various forms and shapes manifested across the shell wall. Over half retained a human appearance, whereas the rest had selected a multitude of geometries and colors from minimal spheres of light, to swarms of neuron echoes, to the simple yet sinister black pyramids of the radical Isolator Faction. One of the human figures was Nelson Sheldon, who was contemplating her with the relaxed disdain of a man who had won his game. Of Gore Burnelli there was no sign, which perturbed her more than it should have. She still didn’t understand how he’d become the Third Dreamer; his mentality must have some private link out of ANA to the gaiafield that she didn’t comprehend. Not that it was going to matter now.

Her fully expanded mentality (still anchored within the Accelerator compilation) regarded her jury with a degree of amusement, especially as some infinitesimal portion of her own mentality was contributing to ANA:Governance, effectively making her judge herself.

“We are called here to review the activities of the Accelerator Faction,” ANA:Governance continued. “The charge against them is one of high treason.”

Ilanthe’s peers remained quiescent, awaiting the information repositories containing ANA’s evidence.

“Do you wish to say anything?” ANA:Governance asked Ilanthe.

“You exist to provide us an existence which promotes intellectual development and evolution, yet you place restrictions upon enacting those very developments in the reality of spacetime. Now you complain when we try to achieve that which your fundamental nature encourages. Please explain the logic.”

“All individuals within me are free to translate their goals into physical or postphysical reality,” ANA:Governance replied. “You know this. What I cannot permit is for those goals to be imposed on an unwilling majority. When and if we transform to postphysical status, it will be as a consenting majority.”

“Nice in theory. But the restrictions you impose on those of us who are ready to transcend are completely unacceptable. We shall achieve our objective on our own.” Ilanthe’s primary consciousness withdrew back into the center of the Accelerator compilation, where the inversion core awaited. Secondary routines took over her manifestation within the assembly arena, producing responses to ANA:Governance’s questions.

The globular inversion core shimmered a dark metallic indigo, its surface cohesion rippling slightly as the bands of exotic force structuring its boundary began to disengage from the quantum pseudofabric that was ANA’s edifice.

“The Prime allies of the Ocisen Empire fleet were animated by the thought routines of Donald Chatfield,” ANA:Governance said. “He is one of your agents in the Greater Commonwealth.” A vast flock of information repositories burst into existence within the assembly arena and settled on the audience waiting across the shell. Only Nelson Sheldon didn’t bother to access the information. Everybody else studied the records of Kazimir’s interception, the electronic interrogation and analysis of the inter-Prime communications. The conclusion was inevitable.

Ilanthe’s mentality switched residence from ANA’s edifice to the inversion core. For the first time since she had downloaded three hundred twenty-seven years ago, she was fully independent.

“What are you doing?” ANA:Governance demanded as it detected her withdrawal from itself.

“Claiming the right you were established to enforce,” the secondary routines manifested in the assembly arena told it.

“You cannot function separately within me,” it replied. “You will simply be isolated until your primary identity reconnects to my edifice. Until then, no interaction with any part of me will be permitted. You will effectively be placing yourself into suspension.”

“Really?”

“Your faction’s attempt to manipulate Living Dream into providing you passage into the Void is declared outlaw,” ANA:Governance announced. The base law upon which its entire edifice was built asserted itself, exposing the collective memory of the Accelerator Faction members. ANA immediately noticed gaps where whole segments had been erased, the information transferred to Ilanthe’s mentality. Everything else was there: the actions of their agents, the development of independent Primes to provide the Ocisens with the kind of allies that gave them enough confidence to launch the invasion fleet. The why of it was missing. ANA also familiarized itself with the way Ilanthe had grown to dominate the faction, how her obsession with the Void and its abilities had come to supplant all other goals to accelerate human evolution. The secret manufacturing sites producing hardware for agents were revealed. There was one station orbiting a red dwarf star for which there were no records. It examined how she had diverted every resource and ability of the faction within ANA to empower the center of the Accelerator compilation, producing the inversion core that they were going to fuse with the nucleus of the Void.

Too much was missing still to determine their underlying strategy. All of it, the ultimate essence of the Accelerator Faction, hung within the inversion core. ANA observed the core detach itself from all contact with the edifice. Yet still the object maintained its integrity contained within the overall subquantum edifice. Not quite real.

“The Accelerator Faction is hereby suspended,” ANA:Governance announced to the assembly arena. The thought routines of every individual comprising the Accelerator Faction immediately terminated, held frozen within the edifice, ready for an edit that would remove the illegal sections and impose limiters to restrain future behavior.

None of it affected the inversion core. ANA couldn’t find an entrance point. The Accelerators had fabricated it without the base law, a circumvention of its authority that was disturbing. Their knowledge of exotic quantum structures was extremely advanced. Presumably that had come from people like Troblum studying the Dark Fortress mechanism. Examination of the faction’s now-exposed memories showed that eighty-seven of their researchers had served with the navy on missions to Dyson Alpha. Their findings were not available.

ANA shut down the entire Accelerator compilation in case there were some remaining connections it couldn’t perceive. The inversion core remained; it was self-sustaining, truly independent. “What is your purpose?” ANA asked.

“Total evolution,” Ilanthe replied. “I have never hidden that from you.”

“Your actions thus far have caused extreme danger, not just to the Commonwealth. I cannot let that pass with impunity.”

“I reject you and your authority,” Ilanthe replied.

The inversion core exerted an exotic force against the collapsed edifice surrounding it. ANA felt its structure warp to an alarming degree. Far above Earth’s lunar orbit, spacetime twisted badly, distorting photons into a globular whirl, sucking light down like a small event horizon.

“Desist from this action,” ANA warned. Ten Capital-class warships on Sol assignment raced in toward the spacetime stress point, slipping smoothly out of hyperspace to target the anomaly. ANA also opened a link to Kazimir, who was already within the External worlds.

“Do you have any idea what it is?” Kazimir asked.

“I can assume the inversion core contains some of my own functions if that is what they intend to fuse with the Void. They have been extremely clever in producing the system within me. No matter what any individual or faction fabricates for itself within me, the base laws apply, for they are a simple extension of the quantum interstice that is my edifice. That is how my integrity is retained. However, in this case my base laws were evaded. This is not part of me.”

“I will be there in another fifteen minutes.”

“That is gratifying. However, I do not believe even Ilanthe will attempt to destroy me. If she did, she would find it extremely difficult. There are some levels which I have never employed.”

The inversion core increased the level of the force it was exerting. ANA perceived the quantum fields within which it was embedded start to separate as their cohesion faltered. Spacetime fractured.

Senses available to the boundary of the inversion core registered starlight falling upon it. “You can no longer constrain me,” Ilanthe said. The starlight grew stronger, twisting savagely as it poured through the severe rift opening all around the inversion core. Then it was free, emerging into spacetime as the rift collapsed. The Earth was a splendid silver-blue crescent half a million kilometers away while the smooth plains of the moon’s farside glimmered to one side. Ten Capital-class ships accelerated smoothly toward it. Ilanthe sensed their weapons powering up and locking on. The inversion core went from a sedate cislunar orbital velocity to point nine nine lightspeed in less than half a second.

“What do you want to do?” Kazimir asked as he flashed past the Oort cometry belt that marked the boundary of the Sol system. He’d followed the chase with interest. The Capital-class ships had immediately dropped into hyperspace as the inversion core sped away at its incredible velocity, something disturbingly reminiscent of a Skylord in the way it did so. They had some trouble matching speeds when they emerged, replicating its velocity as part of their exit vector. Then, when they did get close, it simply stopped, shedding its relativistic speed in an instant, which left the warships streaking away. The inversion core accelerated again along a slightly different trajectory, leaving the warships with no choice but to dive back into hyperspace. Any engagement was going to be extremely difficult, and they still had no idea of its true capabilities.

“Ilanthe has left us with no options. Please intercept her and nullify the object.”

“Very well.” Kazimir ordered the Capital-class ships to disengage. He manifested several functions into spacetime, his energy signature matching the inversion core’s velocity perfectly. When he attempted to analyze it, all he could perceive was an incredibly complex knot of exotic forces. He didn’t have the sensor functions necessary to interpret its intersection within the quantum fields. That left him in the very surprising position of not knowing what aggressive function to deploy against it.

The inversion core halted again, twenty million kilometers out from Mars. Kazimir’s energy signature matched locations flawlessly. Visually, the inversion core resembled a ball of black glass whose interior was beset by purple scintillations. Thermally, it didn’t even register, and the exotic energy sensors revealed a boundary layer of negative matter somehow entwined with quantum fluctuations of enormous power.

“The deterrence fleet, I presume?” Ilanthe said equitably.

“Yes,” Kazimir said.

“I am most impressed.”

“I am reluctant to use weapons functions against you. We are still within the Sol system. There might be damage.”

“Not to me. But that isn’t your immediate concern.”

“I assure you it is. However, if it becomes necessary, I will use force. Your rebellion is now over. Please accept that.”

“You believed we engineered your deployment so I would be safe to emerge.”

“That is obvious.”

“But wrong. Please scan near-Sol space.”

Look behind you. The oldest ploy in the book, but nearly always spoken from a position of superiority. Kazimir kept his energy signature where it was but manifested several long-range sensor functions. He searched for signs of stealthed hyperdrives. Eight thousand and one were holding steady in transdimensional suspension, englobing the Sol system at forty AUs (astronomical units) out.

“What are they?” he asked.

“We call them the Swarm,” Ilanthe said. “They are here to put an end to ANA’s interference.”

“I have to access them,” Kazimir told ANA. “I really don’t like that formation.” His sensor functions observed one of the hyperdrives arrowing in toward the inversion core at very high speed even for an ultradrive. The other eight thousand dropped out of hyperspace where they were, materializing into spacetime as large spherical force fields, their orbits neatly surrounding the Sol system.

Every navy warship assigned to the Sol protection fleet flashed in toward Earth, knitting together in a defensive formation that extended out beyond lunar orbit. Weapons platforms that had spent decades stealthed in high orbit emerged to join the incredible array of firepower lining up on the Swarm. All over the planet, force fields powered up, shielding the remaining cities. Anyone outside an urban area was immediately teleported in to safety. The T-sphere itself was integrated into the defense organization, ready to ward off energy assaults against the planet by rearranging spacetime in a sharp curve.

Lizzie was in the kitchen when the alert came through. Unfamiliar icons popped up in her exovision as she was taking a big pan of boiling chicken stock off the grand iron range. Secondary routines identified them, pushing their meanings into her consciousness. She was suddenly all too aware of what was happening out on the fringes of the Sol system. “Ozzie, crappit,” she grunted as she put the hot pan back down on the range. The whole event was so extraordinary, she had no idea how to react, and then her basic parental instincts took over.

Little Rosa was chortling away happily to herself in the family room, where she was playing with some reactive spheres, clashing them against each other in a burst of music, then clapping as they rolled away across the antique rug. She grinned delightedly as her mother rushed in.

The pediatric housebot floating to one side of the toddler glided smoothly to one side as Lizzie scooped her up. “Come on,” she said, and started to designate her coordinate within the T-sphere. That was when the defense agency announced the T-sphere would be unavailable for civilian use in one minute’s time.

Lizzie teleported into the school. Rosa whooped with delight at the abrupt jump. “Good, good,” she enthused.

The classroom she’d emerged into was a broad circle with a shallow dome roof and long overhang windows looking across the green playing fields of Dulwich Park. It was raining outside. Twenty children were inside, split into three groups. Their teachers were already looking startled. Lizzie looked around as a timer started to count away her minute. Elsie was part of a reading group. She glanced up and smiled at her mother.

Two more parents jumped into the classroom, both looking as perturbed as Lizzie imagined she was. She beckoned frantically to Elsie, who started over. By now another five parents had arrived. The large classroom was starting to feel crowded.

Tilly was in the music group, her violin resting comfortably under her chin as the children practiced a cheerful-sounding song for the school’s Christmas Nativity play. “Come here,” Lizzie called as Elsie reached her side. There were twenty seconds left. Out of the corner of her eye, Lizzie saw a mother jump away as she clutched her son.

“What’s happening?” Tilly asked.

“Here!” Lizzie implored. Another two adults materialized in front of her and started to hunt desperately for their children. The youngsters were starting to get upset as more and more parents with worried faces appeared.

Tilly scampered over, still hanging on to her violin. Lizzie’s u-shadow registered a call from her husband. “Not now,” she grunted, and designated the house as their teleport coordinate. Tilly ran into her, and there were nine seconds left. Just for an instant, the emptiness of the translation continuum flashed around them as Lizzie and the kids jumped out.

She let out a little shocked sob as they all materialized in the familiar hallway.

“What is it?” a subdued Elsie demanded. “What’s happening?”

“Mummy?” Tilly appealed, tugging at Lizzie’s skirt.

“I’m not sure,” Lizzie said even as she was trying to make sense of the defense agency displays. The defense agency didn’t have any details on the devices that had surrounded the solar system. Then the T-sphere was diverted from standard use, stranding everyone on the planet in his or her immediate location. She told her u-shadow to accept her husband’s call.

“Thank Ozzie,” he exclaimed. “Where are the girls?”

“Got them,” she promised, feeling slightly superior because she’d reacted so swiftly and correctly. “Where are you?”

“On a starship. Eight minutes out from Gralmond spaceport.”

“Do you understand what’s happening?”

“Not really. It’s the ANA factions; their fights have turned physical.”

“They can’t hurt Earth? Can they?” She didn’t want to let go of the children. Outside, the rain had drained out of the gray London sky as the force field dome covered the city.

“That’s not what it’s about. Look I’ll be with you as soon-”

The connection ended. Strange symbols flipped up into her exovision, showing routing problems with his link.

In the unisphere? That’s not possible!

“-after I’ve landed. Then I’ll-”

“Something’s wrong,” she gasped.

“-hang on! I will be there, I prom-”

“The link has failed,” her u-shadow reported.

“How can it fail?” she cried.

“The wormhole connections with the Commonwealth worlds are collapsing,” her u-shadow said.

“Oh, great Ozzie!” Lizzie hurried into the conservatory, pulling the girls with her. She tried to make sense of the emergency icons invading her exovision as she looked up into the dour sky, hunting for signs of the world coming to an end.

– -

Kazimir’s energy signature halted ten kilometers from one of the Swarm components. He manifested a vast array of sensor functions, yet not one of them was able to penetrate the five-hundred-meter-diameter force field floating serenely in space. “Damnit, they’ve acquired Dark Fortress technology,” he told ANA. Far behind him, the Accelerator ship dropped out of hyperdrive next to the inversion core. It was large for an ultradrive; long-range scans revealed a multitude of weapons on board. A hold door opened in the rear section, and the inversion core slipped gracefully inside. Then a force field came on around it, every bit as impervious as the one he was confronting.

Kazimir was desperate to intercept the Accelerator Faction starship, but with Earth and ANA facing an unknown threat, his duty was clear. He manifested several high-level weapon functions and fired at the force field directly ahead of him. Everything he used was simply deflected away. The force field was completely impermeable to any assault he could bring in spacetime and hyperspace.

“The wormholes to the Big15 worlds are collapsing,” ANA reported. “Something is cutting them off.”

Kazimir examined the exotic matter intrusions stretching out from Earth away to the stars, seeing them subjected to enormous interference that was causing them to constrict. Even though he knew the incursion must originate within the Swarm, his manifested sensor functions couldn’t track down its nature.

The Accelerator Faction ship carrying the inversion core went FTL, streaking across the solar system directly away from Kazimir at seventy-eight light-years an hour. His energy signature flashed after it. Enormously powerful exotic energy manipulation functions manifested, but he still couldn’t reach through its force field to disable the drive. He began to manifest some functions that would disrupt the quantum fields around the ship, which would force it out of hyperspace. The ship passed through the Swarm’s orbit. Kazimir was less than two seconds behind. It was too late. The force fields surrounding the Swarm components expanded at hyperluminal speed.

Kazimir’s energy signature struck an impermeable barrier that cut clean across spacetime and hyperspace. He couldn’t get through.

– -

The ship dropped out of hyperspace a light-minute beyond the force field. To the hyperspace sensors, a vast blank shield had sprung up behind them. Its curvature revealed a radius of forty AUs. There was no hint of stress or distortion anywhere on its surface. Whatever Kazimir was armed with was unable to cut through. Neskia brought the ship’s visual sensor data into her exovision, watching the image keenly as a timer counted down. After one minute, the high-magnitude star that was the Sun vanished, along with the stars across that half of space.

“No sign of it breaking through,” Neskia said. “I think we’re safe.”

“Very clever, that deterrence fleet,” Ilanthe said. “An interstitial energy signature that can extrude into spacetime. The ship wouldn’t have stood a chance in a straight firefight. ANA was more advanced than we’d realized.”

“Even more reason for us to leave it behind,” Neskia said dismissively. “It had so much potential and wasted it.”

“Quite.”

“Where are we going?”

“Ellezelin. I trust our agents are close to recovering Araminta.”

“They are.”

The ship slipped back into hyperspace, heading away at a modest fifty-five light-years an hour. Behind it, the somber sphere imprisoning the Sol system refracted the gentle starlight impinging on its boundary with a cold shimmer reminiscent of a deep forest lake, guarding its contents in perfect isolated darkness.