‘The Silfen paths mess with human hardware-based technology,’ Tomansio said.
‘That’s direct interference generated by their paths.’
‘All I’m saying is that it appears there’s something inimical to electronics in the Void.’
‘The original colony ship survived to land on Querencia.’
‘And the Living Dream is still arguing if it landed or crashed,’ Beckia said. ‘The interference with electronics could come directly from the Heart itself, like some kind of overlord making sure civilization doesn’t rise above a certain level.’
‘Why the hell would anyone go to so much trouble making the Void in the first place just so they can use it to keep sentient species as pets?’
‘No idea,’ she said merrily. ‘The firstlife are alien, remember. They think differently.’
Oscar gave up with an irritable wave of his hand. ‘All right, so thanks to the whole firstlife zookeeper theory, the welcome team are unlikely to have biononics.’
‘That’s about it, yeah,’ Tomansio said.
‘Either way,’ Beckia said. ‘We don’t want to go head to head if we can help it.’
‘Right.’
‘Liatris, can you get us assigned to the welcome team backup, please,’ Tomansio asked.
‘Way ahead of you. Your assignment should be coming through in a couple of minutes.’
‘Thank you.’
Oscar drew a sharp breath as the Raiel warships obliterated a gas giant. ‘Jesus H. Christ, give the poor girl a break.’ The Silverbird dropped back into real space. Oscar grimaced at the radiation battering its force fields, his memory flipping back to the fight for Hanko when he’d captained the Dublin. There were a lot of parallels. MorningLightMountain’s ships had used exotic energy blasts to smack the Dublin about. And at half a million kilometres above the surface, their force field had only just withstood the star’s radiation. All that was nothing compared to the hell Silverbird was now enduring. Oscar couldn’t help the burst of encouragement pouring out of his mind and into the gaiafield, as if prayer alone could make a difference.
Justine powered back into hyperspace.
‘Good tactic,’ Oscar said approvingly. Another part of his mind was dwelling on the fact that the Elvin’s Payback was the same type of ship as Silverbird. We could be out there doing that.
‘Stand by,’ Cheriton said on the ultrasecure link. ‘The Second Dreamer is making contact with the Skylord.’
‘Where is he?’ Tomansio growled out. ‘Armour active, please. Oscar, do exactly as we tell you, clear?’
‘Yes.’ He just managed not to add ‘sir’.
‘Haven’t got his position yet,’ Cheriton said. ‘My routines are still fudging the nest for us.’
Oscar opened his mind wide to the gaiafield.
‘—close to you now. Feel for her,’ the Second Dreamer was imploring.
‘Here we go,’ Cheriton said. ‘First fix is the Bodant district.’
‘En route,’ Tomansio said, and pushed the capsule round in a hundred and eighty degree curve above the dark river. Viotia’s dawn sun shone into the capsule through the forward section of the transparent fuselage.
‘Ah, crap, the rest of the nests are focusing on the origin,’ Cheriton said. ‘I thought they’d take longer.’
Tomansio pushed their speed up. ‘Ozzie! How long have we got?’
Thirty thousand lightyears away, the Void began to extend out towards the Silverbird.
‘If it screws with technology is she going to be all right when she’s inside?’ Oscar asked.
‘Let’s just concentrate on the job you’ve given us, shall we?’ Beckia chided. She was activating her armour. The helmet visor rippled shut.
‘He’s near the edge of the park,’ Cheriton told them. ‘The Dream Masters are pulling out some very precise coordinates. Damn, they’re good. Sorry guys, you’re not going to make it. The welcome team is being given his location.’
‘Shit,’ Tomansio reducing their speed. ‘It’ll look suspicious if we arrive a couple of seconds before them, and that’s all the time we’ve got.’
‘What’s plan B?’ Oscar asked.
‘Snatch him away from the welcome team, but that’s going to be difficult. This is all happening too fast. I wanted to be properly embedded in the occupation forces here before we moved to this phase.’
‘Kill the wormhole,’ Beckia said. ‘We can use Elvin’s Payback to intercept the welcome team in interstellar space when they ship the Second Dreamer back to Ellezelin.’
‘That would give us a better chance,’ Oscar said. ‘That ship’s a damn sight better than anything Living Dream will have.’
‘We don’t know that,’ Tomansio said. ‘And it would take a lot of aggression to take out the wormhole.’
‘I could go through and do it,’ Liatris insisted.
‘They’d know exactly what happened, and why,’ Tomansio said. ‘This is looking like we’ll have to switch operations to Ellezelin itself. Oh, here we go, deployment orders from the welcome team. It’s an apartment building.’
‘Something wrong here,’ Cheriton said. ‘One of my new colleagues, Danal, is having a fit. That apartment block is where he lives. As best we can determine the Second Dreamer is actually in his own apartment.’
‘Ah hah, everybody might just be underestimating the Second Dreamer, after all,’ Tomansio said. ‘Good for him.’
‘And for us,’ Beckia agreed.
‘He’s going to have to get out of there quick,’ Oscar said. He was viewing an exoimage map of Colwyn. Nine cruisers were converging on Bodant Park. Five had orders to establish a secure ground perimeter. Two were assigned to provide air cover. The rest, including theirs, were to back up the welcome team inside.
He glanced down as they passed over the bright illuminum buildings of a marina, then on across the park. There were thousands of people spread across the grass, still cheering and jumping up and down with glee as their all-night vigil was rewarded. A real party atmosphere had developed and the pull it exerted through the gaiafield was intoxicating.
The capsule carrying the welcome team roared overhead, barely subsonic and decelerating hard. Up ahead, the glass pillar corners of the target apartment block gleamed with a purple and blue iridescence, naively signalling its position. The welcome team capsule circled it possessively, trailing a thin vapour trail. Happy people down in the park frowned upwards at the boorish intrusion. Dismay and resentment appeared in the gaiafield like necrotic sunspots in an otherwise healthy corona.
‘Oh great,’ Oscar grunted as more and more celebrating citizens became indignant and aggrieved. ‘That’ll help.’
‘They don’t care,’ Tomansio said. ‘This whole planet doesn’t matter to them. All they’re interested in is finding the Second Dreamer.’
‘I wonder what he’s like,’ Oscar said as they slowed to hover above the strip of well-maintained gardens in front of the block.
‘Neurotic,’ Beckia said. ‘Got to be.’
‘Smart and scared,’ Tomansio said. ‘Which makes him dangerous to Living Dream.’
The rest of the capsules assigned to support the welcome team arrived. ‘This is Major Honilar,’ the welcome team commander announced. ‘Perimeter squad, establish yourselves immediately. No one in or out. Janglepulse anyone who attempts to cross your line. Custody support squad, seal off the ground floor and shut down the lifts. Use the stairwell to isolate each floor. Now listen up. I want to make very sure you all understand this: there is to be no lethal weapons usage at all. The Second Dreamer is in there, and he must not be harmed. If you encounter any problem, for example if he is using a force field and tries to break through, call us. We will deal with him. I don’t want your dirty hands on him.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Tomansio replied as he directed their capsule down on to the garden. The welcome team’s capsule was planting itself on the roof next to the golden crystal dome containing the spa.
‘What do we do?’ Osc
ar asked as the door expanded and he stepped out on to a border of fuchsia bushes, his boots crushing the white and scarlet flowers into the loam.
‘Exactly as we were told,’ Tomansio said. ‘And remember, don’t use your biononic field function. I know it’s superior to anything in these armour suits, but the welcome team will detect it.’
‘Okay.’ They joined the rest of the custody support troops as they marched into the ground-floor lobby. Behind them, the perimeter squad started to push back the first batch of angry citizens who’d arrived from the park.
‘Danal has just been arrested,’ Cheriton told them. ‘Two officers from cabinet security are hauling him off right now. He’s not a happy man.’
‘That must be a deliberate distraction,’ Tomansio said.
‘Yeah, but by who?’ Beckia said. ‘The Second Dreamer or another bunch like us?’
The lobby was filled with contractors’ equipment and caskets piled high with rubbish. Bright temporary lighting on a metal frame cast strong shadows.
‘The welcome team have taken command of the apartment block’s net,’ Cheriton said. ‘Hang on, I’m assessing the results from their scrutineers.’
Tomansio led Beckia and Oscar into the concrete stairwell. More rubbish had been casually tipped off the floors above, forming a heap of dusty debris at the bottom of the stairs in the basement. A couple of paramilitaries went down to investigate the garage.
‘According to the net there are about thirty people currently in residence,’ Cheriton said. ‘The whole damn place is being redeveloped. The fourth floor only has four people registered for two apartments. Danal and Mareble, and a married couple. Someone called Araminta is refurbishing the remaining three on that level. Mining her now.’
Oscar hurried up the concrete stairs. The long line of suited paramilitaries was making a lot of noise as they trooped up with him. Instructions relayed from Honilar assigned six of them to each floor. Oscar was seriously impressed with Liatris when he, Tomansio and Beckia were given the fourth floor.
They emerged into the vestibule to find all the apartment doors broken open and two of the welcome team standing guard in full military armour suits. Oscar could just see through the doorway into apartment three, where the terrified occupants were in the middle of the big living room. A man and woman: him in a pair of shorts, her in a long nightshirt. Standing side by side, their arms raised as another of the welcome team covered them with a large gun. She was shaking and crying, while her partner was trying to be resolute. The way his leg muscles were trembling betrayed him more than any gaiafield emission.
Major Honilar came out of Danal’s apartment. ‘No sign of him. He couldn’t have got out of the building, he didn’t have time. I want every resident on every floor in custody and taken to our headquarters. Search and scan each apartment, make sure you have everyone.’ He turned and went back into Danal’s apartment.
‘Pair up,’ Tomansio said. ‘Take an apartment each.’
Oscar accompanied Tomansio as they went into apartment number four. He scanned round with his suit’s sensors, resenting how slow and restricted they were compared to a biononic field scan. You’re spoilt, he told himself. The suit didn’t detect any body-size thermal signatures. The apartment was halfway through refurbishment. Several inactive bots were lined up in the living room. New cables and pipes were laid out along one wall. Junked utility fittings were stacked up by the door. Crates and boxes with BOVEY’S BUILDING SUPPLY MACROSTORE printed around them were waiting to be unpacked. Some furniture had been left, a coffee table that was now badly scuffed, with several mugs on top, waiting to be washed. An ancient couch with a matching armchair that had odd lumps in its cushioning.
His u-shadow was displaying the reports from the other squads, who were busy rounding up the residents on other floors. So far, their identities matched their files.
‘In here,’ Tomansio said, using their secure link. He was standing in the doorway to a bedroom. The bed itself was a bare mattress with a big sleeping bag crumpled on top. Four suitcases were lined up along a wall; one was open revealing a collection of woman’s clothes. The small dresser was swamped by hair-styling tools and membrane scale cases.
‘Not listed as lived in,’ Oscar said.
‘Depends what lists you check. Liatris, run another search on Araminta. Has she sold this apartment?’
‘I’m on it.’
While Tomansio checked the other two bedrooms Oscar went into the main bathroom. The floor had been stripped back to the bare concrete, as had the walls. A brand new carved stone bath cuboid was sitting in the middle. Halfway up the wall behind it, the stub of the original cold water feed pipe jutted out of the concrete, its valve dripping into a plastic bucket beneath. The old toilet bowl was still plumbed in. A big hot water tank stood in one corner, already boxed in by the struts of a false wall, just awaiting the cover boards which were stacked in front of it. A maze of pipe work was strewn round its base. Components for a spore shower were lying ready for assembly.
‘Nothing,’ he told Tomansio.
‘The other bedrooms are empty.’
Oscar found him behind the living room’s kitchen bar. The old culinary unit had been removed to stand on the ground, though the nutrient feed pipes were still plumbed in. A kettle and a microwave were sitting on the scratched marble work surface. His thermal scan showed him the kettle’s temperature was above ambient. ‘This place has been used recently,’ he muttered.
‘We need to talk to her,’ Tomansio said. ‘If anyone can tell us who’s been in and out of these apartments, it’s her.’
‘That shouldn’t be too difficult,’ Oscar said. ‘We know who she is. Finding her will be easy for Liatris.’
‘Yeah.’ Tomansio’s sensors swept round one last time. ‘Grab something from her bedroom, just so we can run a DNA verification that she’s the one living here. Then we’d better get back and help with rounding up the rest of the suspects.’
‘Poor bastards,’ Oscar said as he picked up a small scale applicator brush. ‘What do you think Honilar will do with them?’
‘Good question. How do you prove you’re not the Second Dreamer? It’s not as if there’s physical evidence. I guess if he doesn’t get a confession they’ll use a memory read.’
Oscar shuddered. ‘That isn’t exactly going to endear them to the Second Dreamer. They need him to help them get into the Void.’
‘Oscar, face it, with today’s medical techniques you can make someone do just about anything you want.’
‘Medical techniques?’
‘That’s what they started out as.’
‘I suppose you know how to do that?’
‘We all had training in that area, yes.’
Despite the heavy armour suit with its perfect insulation, Oscar suddenly felt cold.
*
Paula had rarely experienced a pang of déjà vu as strong as the one that hit her when the stained glass door opened and she walked into the entrance hall. And she hadn’t even been to the old building before. She walked past the empty concierge desk and stared at the glass cage lift. It was the age of everything around her that was generating that weird sensation tickling the back of her mind. According to the Daroca City Council files the interior was perfectly authentic, exactly as it had been during the Starflyer War. She wasn’t going to disagree, as someone who had lived through those times she could feel the décor was right.
The lift took her up to the fifth floor, and she walked into Troblum’s penthouse apartment. On the trip over from the spaceport she’d accessed Lieutenant Renne Kampasa’s ancient Directorate files on the one time she’d visited – ANA had to deep access the memory. With the file came a note that Troblum had requested access to that same file a hundred years ago, along with associated forensic reports.
His restoration work was excellent, Paula acknowledged as she walked into the huge open-plan lounge. The balcony had a magnificent view out over the Caspe River, with the rest of Daroca filling
in the background.
It didn’t take her long to establish there wasn’t anything useful in the apartment, and all Troblum’s personal files had been wiped from the building net. The only mild exception was in the bedrooms, each of which inexplicably had their closets full of girls’ clothes. Troblum’s own clothes, comprising three ageing toga suits and his unpleasant underwear, were stuffed into a chest of drawers in the master bedroom. For a moment Paula wondered if the dresses belonged to Troblum’s girlfriend. She raised an eyebrow when she took out a designer leather miniskirt. It might be slightly prejudiced of her to think it, but what would a girl with a figure to wear such an item see in Troblum? Then she recognized the label, one she hadn’t seen for over seven hundred years, and realized that the skirt was also Starflyer War vintage style. She let out a whistle of admiration; he’d even reproduced the girls’ wardrobe as best he could.
Now that is true obsession.
Paula started going through the other apartments in the ancient converted factory while her u-shadow accessed the building’s net to analyse the remaining files. It was the largest apartment on the third floor which drew her attention. The others were all relatively authentic reproductions, but this one had been modified again. All the internal walls had been removed, and the resulting chamber sealed against the outside atmosphere with a sustainer membrane and clinical-grade air filters. Rows of heavy benches ran the entire length, each one equipped with a series of data nodes and high voltage power sockets. She could see the outlines where objects had once rested. They must have been there for decades to make any kind of impression on the stainless steel surface. The net subsection for the apartment had also been thoroughly wiped.
‘Three courier capsules were requisitioned to collect items from the building around the time Troblum disappeared,’ her u-shadow reported.
‘What items?’
‘Unknown. They were stored in stabilized cases.’
‘Ah,’ Paula said. ‘I bet it was a collection. Most likely Starflyer War memorabilia. Stubsy Florac often procured historic relics for clients. Where were the cases taken?’