Read The Abyss Beyond Dreams Page 1




  For my agent, Antony Harwood.

  After twenty years, it’s probably

  about time I said thank you.

  In a unique project aimed at enhancing the reader’s experience, composer Steve Buick has produced an album of musical atmospheres inspired by Peter F. Hamilton’s new novel The Abyss Beyond Dreams. There are three long pieces which embody the feel of the story using layers of ambient and often eerie soundscapes. Peter actually wrote part of the novel to the first track Steve completed. The album is available on iTunes and the Amazon MP3 store under the same title.

  More information can be found at www.stevebuick.com

  Contents

  Commonwealth Timeline

  List of Characters

  Map

  BOOK ONE: Twenty-Seven Hours and Forty-Two Minutes

  BOOK TWO: Dreams from the Void

  July 9th 3326

  Two Months Earlier: May 17th 3326

  May 19th 3326

  May 22nd 3326

  May 29th 3326

  July 9th 3326

  July 11th 3326

  BOOK THREE: Revolution for Beginners

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  BOOK FOUR: Cell Structure

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  BOOK FIVE: Those who Fall

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  BOOK SIX: Those who Rise

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  EPILOGUE: Beyond the Abyss

  Commonwealth Timeline

  1,000,000 BC (approx.)

  Raiel armada invades the Void. Never returns.

  AD

  1200 Prime species’ home star system and renegade Prime colony star (Dyson pair) quarantined behind force fields by the Anomine.

  1900 Starflyer crash-lands on Far Away, 400 light years from Earth.

  2037 First attempted human rejuvenation, Jeff Baker.

  2050 Nigel Sheldon and Ozzie Isaacs open a wormhole to surface of Mars.

  2057 Wormhole opened to Proxima Centuri. Start of interstellar colonization.

  2100 Eight new worlds settled. Official formation of Intersolar Commonwealth Council, the ‘Parliament of Worlds’.

  2100 onward Massive expansion of human settlements across H-congruous planets. Rise of the Big15 industrial worlds.

  2102 Huxley’s Haven founded, genetic conformist constitution.

  2150 Prime star disappears from Earth’s sky – unnoticed.

  2163 High Angel discovered orbiting Icalanise

  2222 Paula Myo born on Huxley’s Haven.

  2270 Prime star pair identified as Dyson Emission Spectrum twins.

  2380 Dudley Bose observes Dyson Alpha vanish.

  2381 Starship Second Chance flies to Dyson Alpha.

  2381–2383 Starflyer War.

  2384 First colony fleet (Brandt Dynasty) leaves to found human colony outside Commonwealth.

  2545 onward Use of large starships to establish Commonwealth ‘External’ worlds.

  2550 Commonwealth Navy Exploration fleet founded to explore the galaxy beyond the External worlds.

  2560 Commonwealth Navy ship Endeavour circumnavigates galaxy, captained by Wilson Kime, discovery of the Void.

  2603 Navy discovers seventh High Angel-type ship.

  2620 Raiel confirm their status as ancient galactic race who lost a war against the Void.

  2833 Completion of ANA (Advanced Neural Activity) first stage on Earth. Grand Family members begin memory download into ANA.

  2867 Sheldon Dynasty gigalife project partially successful, first human body biononic supplements for regeneration and general iatrics.

  2872 Start of Higher human culture, biononic enrichment allowing a society of slow-paced long life, rejection of commercial economics and old political ideologies.

  2913 Earth begins absorption of ‘mature’ humans into ANA, the inward migration begins.

  2984 Formation of radical Highers who wish to convert the human race to Higher culture.

  3000 Sheldon Dynasty colony fleet (thirty starships) leaves Commonwealth, believed to possess long-range trans-galactic flight capability.

  3001 Ozzie produces uniform neural entanglement effect, known as the gaiafield.

  3040 Commonwealth invited to join Centurion Station, the Void observation project supervised by Raiel, a joint enterprise between alien species.

  3120 ANA officially becomes Earth’s government, total planetary population fifty million (activated bodies) and falling.

  3126 Brandt Dynasty trans-galactic colony fleet launched.

  3150 External world Ellezelin settled.

  3255 Kerry, a radical Higher Angel, arrives on Anagaska, Inigo’s conception.

  This Era (time uncertain) Edeard born in the Void.

  3320 Inigo begins duty tour at Centurion star system, his first dream.

  3324 Inigo settles on Ellezelin, founds Living Dream movement, begins construction of Makkathran2.

  List of Characters

  Commonwealth

  Nigel Sheldon inventor of wormhole technology

  Paula Myo Senior investigator, Serious Crime Bureau

  Starship Vermillion

  Cornelius Brandt captain

  Laura Brandt Molecular physicist

  Ibu Gravatonics professor

  Joey Stein hyperspace theorist

  Ayanna quantum field physicist

  Rojas shuttle pilot

  Bienvenido

  Slvasta lieutenant Cham Regiment, revolutionary leader

  Ingmar trooper, Cham Regiment, Slvasta’s friend

  Quanda forester’s daughter

  Bethaneve tax officer, revolutionary leader

  Javier meat-stall worker, revolutionary leader

  Coulan bureaucrat, revolutionary leader

  Arnice Major, Joint Regimental Council

  Lanicia society debutant

  Gelasis Colonel, Joint Regimental Council

  Bryan-Anthony leader, Wellfield union

  Philious Captain

  Aothori First officer

  Trevene chief of Captain’s Police

  Gravin professor, Faller Research Institute

  Kysandra owner of Blair Farm

  Sarara Kysandra’s mother

  Ma Ulvon underworld boss

  Akstan Ma Ulvon’s son

  Julias Ma Ulvon’s son

  Russell Ma Ulvon’s son

  Madeline madam, Hevlin hotel

  Proval a Faller

  Demitri ANAdroid

  Marek ANAdroid

  Valeri ANAdroid

  Fergus ANAdroid

  Yannrith ex-sergeant Cham regiment

  Andricea ex-Cham regiment

  Tovakar ex-Cham regiment

  BOOK ONE

  Twenty-Seven Hours and Forty-Two Minutes

  Laura Brandt knew all about coming out of a suspension chamber. It was similar to finishing the old-style rejuvenation procedure she’d undergone back in the day before biononic inserts and Advancer genes being sequenced into human DNA and practically eradicating the ageing process. There would be that slow comfortable rise to consciousness, the body warming at a steady rate, nutrient feeds and narcotic buffering taking the edge off any lingering discomfort and disorientation. So, by the time you were properly awake and ready to open your eyes, it was like emerging from a really decent night’s sleep, ready to face the
day with enthusiasm and anticipation. A full breakfast with pancakes, some crisp bacon, maple syrup and chilled orange juice (no ice, thanks) would add that extra little touch of panache to make returning to full awareness a welcome experience. And when it happened this time, there she would be at the end of a voyage to a star cluster outside the Milky Way, ready to begin a fresh life with others from the Brandt dynasty, founding a whole new civilization – one that was going to be so very different from the jaded old Commonwealth they’d left behind.

  Then there was the emergency extraction procedure, which ship’s crew called the tank yank.

  Someone slapping the red button on the outside of her suspension chamber. Potent revival drugs rammed into a body that was still chilly. Haematology umbilicals withdrawing from her neck and thighs. Shocked muscles spasming. Bladder sending out frantic pressure signals into her brain, and the emergency extraction had already automatically retracted the catheter – oh, great design, guys. But that wasn’t as bad as the skull-splitting headache and the top of her diaphragm contracting as her nauseous stomach heaved.

  Laura opened her eyes to a blur of horrible coloured light at the same time as her mouth opened and she vomited. Stomach muscles clenched, bringing her torso up off the padding. Her head hit the chamber’s lid, which hadn’t finished hinging open.

  ‘Hell’s teeth.’ Red pain stars joined the confusing blur of shapes. She twisted over to throw up again.

  ‘Easy there,’ a voice told her.

  Hands gripped her shoulders, supporting her as she retched. A plastic bowl was held up, which caught most of the revolting liquid.

  ‘Any more?’

  ‘What?’ Laura groaned.

  ‘Are you going to puke again?’

  Laura just snarled at him, too miserable even to know the answer. Every part of her body was forcefully telling her how wretched it felt.

  ‘Take some deep breaths,’ the voice told her.

  ‘Oh for . . .’

  It was an effort just to breathe at all with the way her body was shuddering, never mind going for some kind of yoga-master inhalations. Stupid voice –

  ‘You’re doing great. The revive drugs will kick in any minute now.’

  Laura swallowed – disgusting acid taste burning her throat – but it was fractionally easier to breathe. She hadn’t felt this bad for centuries. It wasn’t a good thought, but at least it was a coherent one. Why aren’t my biononics helping? The tiny molecular machines enriching every cell should be aiding her body to stabilize. She tried to squint the lights into focus, knowing some of them would be her exovision icons. It was all just too much effort.

  ‘Tank yank’s a bitch, huh?’

  Laura finally recognized the voice. Andy Granfore, one of the Vermillion’s medical staff – decent enough man; they’d met at a few pre-flight parties. She shuddered down a long breath. ‘What’s happened? Why have you brought me out like this?’

  ‘Captain wants you out and up. And we don’t have much time. Sorry.’

  Laura’s eyes managed to focus on Andy’s face, seeing the familiar bulbous nose, dark bags under pale brown eyes, and greying hair that was all stick-out tufts. Such an old, worn face was unusual in the Commonwealth, where everyone used cosmetic gene-sequencing to look flawless. Laura always thought that humanity these days was like a race of youthful supermodels – which wasn’t necessarily an improvement. Anything less than perfection was either a fashion statement or a genuine individualistic screw you to conformity.

  ‘Is Vermillion damaged?’

  ‘No.’ He gave her an anxious grin. ‘Not exactly. Just lost.’

  ‘Lost?’ It was possibly an even more worrying answer. How could you get lost flying to a star cluster that measured twenty thousand lightyears in diameter? It wasn’t as if you could lose sight of something of that magnitude. ‘That’s ridiculous.’

  ‘The captain will explain. Let’s get you to the bridge.’

  Laura silently asked her u-shadow for a general status review. The ubiquitous semi-sentient utility routine running in her macrocellular clusters responded immediately by unfolding a basic array of mental icons, slender lines of blue fairy light that superimposed themselves within her wobbly vision. She frowned. If she was reading their efficiency modes correctly, her biononics had suffered some kind of serious glitch. The only reason she could imagine for that level of decay was simple ageing. Her heart gave a jump as she wondered how long she’d been in suspension. She checked the digits of her time display. Which was even more puzzling.

  ‘Two thousand two hundred and thirty-one days?’

  ‘What?’ Andy asked.

  ‘We’ve been underway for two thousand two hundred and thirty-one days? Where the hell are we?’ Travelling for that long at ultradrive speeds would have taken them almost three million lightyears from Earth, a long, long way outside the Milky Way.

  His old face amplified how disconcerted he was. ‘It might have been that long. We’re not too sure about relativistic time compression in here.’

  ‘Whaa—’

  ‘Just . . . Let’s get you to the bridge, okay? The captain will give you a proper briefing. I’m not the best person to explain this. Trust me.’

  ‘Okay.’

  He helped her swing her legs off the padding. Dizziness hit her hard as she stood up, and she almost crumpled. Andy was ready for it and held her tight for a long moment while she steadied herself.

  The suspension bay looked intact to her: a long cave of metal ribs containing a thousand large sarcophagi-like suspension chambers. Lots of reassuring green monitor lights shining on every unit, as far as she could make out. She gave a satisfied nod. ‘All right. Let me freshen up and we’ll go. Have the bathrooms been switched on?’ For some reason she was having trouble interfacing directly with the ship’s network.

  ‘No time,’ Andy said. ‘The transport pod is this way.’

  Laura managed to coordinate her facial muscles enough to give him a piqued expression before she allowed herself to be guided along the decking to the end of the bay. A set of malmetal quad-doors peeled open. The pod on the other side was a simple circular room with a bench seat running round it.

  ‘Here,’ Andy said after she slumped down, almost exhausted by the short walk – well, shuffle. He handed her a packet of clothes and some spore wipes.

  She gave the wipes a derisory glance. ‘Seriously?’

  ‘Best I can offer.’

  So while he used the pod’s manual control panel to tap in their destination, she cleaned up her face and hands, then stripped off her sleeveless medical gown. Body-modesty was something most people grew out of when they were in their second century and resequenced like Greek godlings, and she didn’t care about Andy anyway; he was medical.

  She saw in dismay that her skin colour was all off. Her second major biononic re-form on her ninetieth birthday had included some sequencing to emphasize her mother’s northern Mediterranean heritage, darkening her epidermis to an almost African black. It was a shading she’d maintained for the entire three hundred and twenty-six years since. Now, though, she just looked like a porcelain doll about to shatter from age. Suspension had tainted her skin to an awful dark grey with a multitude of tiny water-immersion wrinkles – except it was paper dry. Must remember to moisturize, she told herself. Her hair was a very dark ginger, courtesy of a rather silly admiration for Grissy Gold, the gulam blues singer who’d revelled in an amazing decade of trans-Commonwealth success – two hundred and thirty-two years ago. That wasn’t too bad, she decided, pulling at badly tangled strands of it, but it was going to take litres of conditioner to put the gloss back in. Then she peered at the buffed metal wall of the travel pod, which was hardly the best mirror . . . Her normally thin face was horribly puffy, almost hiding her cheekbones, and her emerald green eyes were all hangover – bloodshot, with bags just as bad as Andy’s. ‘Bollocks,’ she groaned.

  As she started pulling on the dreary ship’s one-piece suit she saw how flabby her fles
h had become after such a long suspension, especially round the thighs. Oh, not again! She deliberately didn’t look at her bum. It was going to take months of exercise to get back in shape, and Laura no longer cheated by using biononics to sculpt bodyform like most; she believed in earning her fitness, a primitive body-pride that came from those five years hiding away from the world at a Naturalist faction ashram in the Austrian Alps after a particularly painful relationship crash.

  With the drugs finally banishing the worst of the tank yank, she sealed up the suit and rotated her shoulders as if she was prepping for a big gym session. ‘This had better be good,’ she grunted as the pod slowed. It had taken barely five minutes to travel along the Vermillion’s axial spine, past the twenty other suspension bays that made up the giant starship’s mid-section. And still her u-shadow couldn’t connect to Vermillion’s network.

  The pod’s quad-door opened to reveal Vermillion’s bridge – a somewhat symbolic claim for a chamber in the age of homogenized network architecture. It was more like a pleasant franchise coffee lounge, with long settees arranged in a conversation circle and giant high-res hologram panes on the walls.

  About fifteen people were in there, most of them huddled in small groups on the settees, having intense exchanges. Everybody looked badly stressed. Laura saw several who had clearly just been tank yanked like her, and recognized them straight away; also like her, they were all from the starship’s science team.

  That was when she became aware of a very peculiar sensation right inside her head. It was like the emotional context of a conversation within the gaiafield – except her gaiamotes were inactive. She’d never really embraced the whole gaiafield concept, which had been developed to give the Commonwealth the capability of direct mind-to-mind communication through an alien adaptation of quantum entanglement theory. Some people loved the potential for intimate thought sharing it brought, claiming it was the ultimate evolution of intellect, permitting everyone else’s viewpoint to be appreciated. That way, the argument went, conflict would be banished. Laura thought that was a bunch of crap. To her it was the creepy extreme of voyeurism. Unhealthy, to put it mildly. She had gaiamotes because it was occasionally a useful communication tool, and even more sporadically helpful for acquiring large quantities of information. But for day-to-day use, forget it. She stuck with the good old-fashioned and reliable unisphere links.