The Dreaming Void (52 page)

After it was over, after rescue and salvage operations that went on for millennia, the Raiel declared that the Void no longer could be tolerated. The Firstlifes who had created it while the galaxy was still in its infancy clearly had not recognized the horrendous consequences it would have on those who lived after their era. The Raiel created an armada of ships that could function in any quantum state that theoretically might exist within the Void, and they invaded. A hundred thousand ships surrounded the terrible barrier and flew inside, ready for anything.

None returned.

The Void remained unbroken.

What was left of the once-colossal Raiel civilization launched a rearguard action. A defense system to reinforce the Wall stars was built in the small hope that it might contain the next macroexpansion. More ships were created to act as arks for emergent species, carrying them away from the doomed galaxy across the greater gulf outside, where they could reestablish themselves on new worlds in peaceful star clusters. It was the last act of beneficence from a race that had failed its ultimate challenge; if they could not save the galaxy, the Raiel swore they would endure to the bitter end, shepherding entities less capable than themselves to safety.

“That's not a version of history I can believe in,” Corrie-Lyn said softly as the file images shrank to the center of the cabin and vanished. “It's very hard for me to accept the Void as something hostile when I know the beauty which lies within.” She took a sip of her hot chocolate and brandy, curling up tighter on the couch.

“That version?” Aaron queried from the other side of the cabin.

“Well, it's not as if we can ever verify it, is it?”

“Unless I've got a false memory, you've got nearly six hundred years of human observations from Centurion Station to confirm the very unnatural way in which the barrier consumes star systems. And who was it, now, that took some of them? Oh, yes, that's right: Inigo himself.”

“Yes, but this whole crusading armada claim? Come on. A hundred thousand ships with weapons that can crunch entire stars. Where are they? None of Inigo's dreams showed the smallest relic.”

“Dead. Vaporized into component atoms and consumed like every other particle of matter that passes through the barrier.” He paused, slightly troubled. “Except for the human ship which got through and landed on Querencia.”

“Pretty crappy tactics for a species of self-proclaimed masterminds. Didn't they think of sending a scout or two in first?”

“Maybe they did. You can ask when we get to the
High Angel.
”

She gave him a pitying look. “If they even let us dock.”

“Oh, ye of little faith.”

The
Artful Dodger
fell back into spacetime ten thousand kilometers from the
High Angel.
Icalanise was waxing behind the alien starship, a horned crescent of warring topaz and platinum storm bands. Four small black circles were strung out along the equator: the tip of the umbra cones projected by a conjunction cluster of its thirty-eight moons.

Several sensor sweeps flashed across the starship.
High Angel
still hosted a large Commonwealth Navy presence. The base admiral took security seriously. A fresh identity complete with official certification was already loaded into the smartcore for examination. Aaron's u-shadow requested docking permission with the New Glasgow dome for the
Alini.
They received almost immediate approach authority.

The archipelago of industrial stations glided lazily along a thousand-kilometer orbit, forming a dense loop of silver specks around the
High Angel.
Service shuttles zipped between them and the human-inhabited domes, collecting advanced technology and materials for forward shipment to the External worlds, where such systems still were prized.

“How about that,” Aaron muttered appreciatively as he accessed the ship's sensor imagery. “An angel with a halo.”

“You can take religious analogies too far,” Corrie-Lyn chided.

There were seventeen domes rising out of the core's rocky surface now. The six occupied by humans all had crystal cupolas, allowing them to see the cities and parkland inside. Four of the remainder were also transparent to a degree; the spectra of alien suns shone out of them, following their own diurnal cycles. Strange city silhouettes could be seen parked on the landscapes within. At night they would shine with enticing colorful light points. One of them belonged to the Raiel. The remaining domes were closed to external observation, and neither
High Angel
nor the Raiel would discuss their residents.

Following Aaron's instruction, the starship's smartcore aimed a communication maser at the Raiel dome. “I would like permission to dock at the Raiel dome, please,” Aaron said. “There is a resident I wish to speak to.”

“That is an unusual request for a private individual,” the
High Angel
replied with the voice of a human male. “I can speak on behalf of the Raiel.”

“Not good enough. You're aware of the nature of this ship?”

“I do recognize it. Very few of ANA's ultradrive vessels have ever come into my proximity; the technology is extremely sophisticated. You must be one of its representatives.”

“Something like that, and I need to speak with a specific Raiel.”

“Very well. I am sending you a new flight path; please follow it.”

“Thank you. The Raiel I'd like to meet is Qatux.”

“Of course.”

The
Artful Dodger
changed course slightly, curving around the massive dark rock of the
High Angel
's core toward the stem of the Raiel dome. Large dark ovals were positioned at the base, just before the point where the pewter-colored shaft fused with the rock crust. One of the ovals dematerialized, revealing a featureless white chamber beyond. The
Artful Dodger
nosed inside, and the outer wall rematerialized behind it.

“Please stand by for teleport,” the
High Angel
said.

Corrie-Lyn looked startled.

“Once again,” Aaron said, “and yet still without any hope of you paying the slightest attention, let me do the talking.”

Her mouth opened to answer.

The cabin vanished, immediately replaced by a broad circular space with a floor that glowed a pale emerald. If there was a ceiling, it was invisible somewhere in the gloom far above. An adult Raiel was standing right in front of them. Corrie-Lyn gasped and almost stumbled. Aaron hurriedly reached out and caught her arm. He did not have any memory of being on Earth and using the planetary T-sphere, but the abrupt translation was about what he had expected.

“Dear Ozzie,” Corrie-Lyn grunted.

“I hope you are not too shocked,” the Raiel said in its mellow whisper.

Aaron bowed formally. The Raiel was as big as all the adults of its species, larger than a terrestrial elephant, with gray-brown skin that bristled with thick hairs. Aaron was no expert, but this one looked like an exceptionally healthy specimen. From the front its bulbous head was surrounded by a collar of tentacle limbs, with a thick pair at the bottom, four meters long and tipped with segmented paddles that were intended for heavy work. The remaining limbs were progressively smaller up to a clump of slender manipulators resembling particularly sinuous serpents. Each side of its head had a cluster of five small hemispherical eyes that swiveled in unison. Below them on the underside of the head, the skin creased into a number of loose folds to form the mouth zone. When it spoke, Aaron could just glimpse deep wet crevices and a row of sharp brown fangs.

“No, that's fine,” Corrie-Lyn stammered. She remembered her manners and dipped her head awkwardly.

“I have not met humans in the flesh for some time,” Qatux said in its sad-sounding whisper. “I was curious. I didn't realize my name was still known to you.”

“I'm afraid I only know your name, nothing more,” Aaron said. “But I thank you for agreeing to see us.”

“My part in your history was brief. I took part in a human expedition during the Starflyer War. I had friends, human friends, which is unusual for a Raiel, then as now. Tell me, do you know of Paula Myo?”

Aaron was surprised when his heart did a little jump at the name.
Must be the medical treatment.
“I've heard of her.”

“I liked Paula Myo,” Qatux said.

“She is an ANA: Governance representative these days.”

“And you are not?”

“Not at her level.” Aaron prayed Corrie-Lyn would not start mouthing off.

“Why are you here?” Qatux asked.

“I have a request.” He held up the kube. “This is the memorycell of a human. I would like you to receive the memories. There are questions about his personality I need answered.”

Qatux did not respond. Its eyes swiveled from Aaron to Corrie-Lyn, then back again.

“Can you do that?” Aaron asked. He was aware that something was wrong but did not know what. His mind kept telling him that Qatux was the Raiel who was most likely to help in this fashion. So far on this mission all the intuitive knowledge loaded into his subconscious had been correct.

“I used to do that,” Qatux whispered. “At one time I was captivated by human emotional states. I married a human.”

“Married?” Corrie-Lyn blurted.

“A most nice lady by the name of Tiger Pansy. I had never known someone so emotionally reactive. We spent many happy years together on the planet you named Far Away. I shared her every thought, every feeling.”

“What happened?” Aaron asked, knowing it was not going to be good.

“She died.”

“I'm sorry.”

“She died most horribly. A woman called the Cat prolonged her death for many days. Deliberately. I shared that time with my wife. I experienced human death.”

“Shit,” Aaron mumbled.

“I have not known human thought or emotion since. At the end, my wife cured me of this strange weakness. It was her last gift, however unwillingly given. I am Raiel again. I now hold high rank among my own kind.”

“We shouldn't have asked you to do this,” Corrie-Lyn said humbly. “We didn't know. I'm so sorry.”

Aaron wanted to use a stunshot on her. “It's Inigo,” he said, holding the kube up again. “The human who dreams the lives of humans inside the Void.”

Once again Qatux was perfectly still. This time its eyes remained focused on Aaron alone.

“Aaron!” Corrie-Lyn hissed through clenched teeth.

He could feel the anger powering out of her through the gaiafield and completely ignored it. “I'm looking for him,” he told the huge silent alien, staring straight into its multiple eyes. “He needs to be found before his Living Dream believers spark another devourment phase with their Pilgrimage. Will you help?”

“Inigo?” Qatux asked. The whisper had softened to near inaudibility.

“Yes. The kube holds his personality right up until he left for his Centurion Station mission. His formative years. Everyone knows his life since he founded Living Dream, even the Raiel. Or perhaps especially the Raiel. If you combined that knowledge with his formative years, I thought that you might be able to understand his motivations, that you could work out where he has gone for me.”

“The Raiel have wanted to know the inside of the Void for so long. It is all we exist for now; we are its nemesis as much as it is ours. For over a million years we were content with the role fate had given us. And then a human comes along and simply dreams what is in there. None of us is capable of that. The strongest of our race fell into that evil place, and no trace remains. Nothing.”

“It's not evil,” Corrie-Lyn said sullenly.

“I would like to believe that. I cannot. We have known the Void from a time before your species achieved sentience. It is the destroyer of life, of hope. Nothing escapes it.”

“Millions of humans live inside the Void. They live lives full of hope and love and laughter; they live lives better than any of us out here.”

“To do so, to achieve their greater life you envy so much, they are killing you. They are killing this galaxy. And now you wish to join them, to increase the damage to a level you cannot imagine.”

“Will you stop the Pilgrimage?” Aaron asked.

“Not I. Not this arkship. That is not the purpose of this Raiel; we are custodians alone. However, there are other Raiel who serve a different purpose. They are the defenders of this galaxy. I do not know what they will do to your Pilgrimage.”

Aaron glanced at Corrie-Lyn. Her mouth was set in a purposeful line.

“Can you help us with Inigo's memories? If I can find him, talk to him, there may be a chance he'll stop the Pilgrimage.”

Qatux moved toward him, eight stumpy legs on either side of its underbelly tilting forward to move it in a smooth undulation. Aaron held his ground, though he was aware of Corrie-Lyn taking a small shuffle backward; her emotions seeping into the gaiafield were turning from pride to concern.

“I will do what I can,” Qatux said. It extended a medium-size tentacle.

Aaron exhaled in relief and handed over the memorycell. The tentacle tip coiled around it and withdrew, curling backward. Just behind the collar of tentacles, hanging off the equivalent of a Raiel neck, innumerable small protuberances of flesh dangled, each one crowned by a small heavy bulb that was technological in origin. The kube sank through the dark surface of a bulb like a pebble falling into water.

A long shudder ran along Qatux's bulk, and the giant alien let out a sigh that seemed close to pain. “I will tell you when I have finished,” Qatux said.

Aaron and Corrie-Lyn were unceremoniously teleported back into the
Artful Dodger.