‘The Jupiter constellation will fly here through interstellar space,’ Raul said. ‘Most of it is too big to fit through the gateway, anyway. In fact, it’s bringing the Newcastle end of the gateway with it.’
‘Why?’ Paresh asked.
‘To reassemble on Sirius XIV,’ Coby said. ‘That way, everyone on St Libra can walk through. It’s a good deal. Without it, Sirius would remain redshifted until the planet is rid of us that way.’
‘I have agreed with Constantine to end my disruption of Sirius. The sunspots will decline over the next two months,’ the Barclay-avatar said. ‘Winter will end. You may spend the intervening years recovering and making ready. I will resume my mission as Zebediah, preparing the people of the Independencies for their departure.’
*
Saul and Emily let Angela have their spare room that night. Rebka was given Clara’s room, so the delighted six-year-old got to move in with a less pleased Isadora.
‘This stuff really smells,’ Paresh complained as he wormed down into their makeshift bed. The spare room only had a single bed, so they’d pulled the mattress on the floor, added cushions from the bungalow’s sofas, and zipped a couple of sleeping bags together on top.
Angela had just come back from the bathroom, where every tile seemed to be ingrained with children’s toothstik gel. She glanced round the bedroom’s walls where Saul had stacked hundreds of sparpine logs so they could dry out, ready for burning in the stove. It was the first time since the sunspot outbreak that she’d experienced any of St Libra’s scents. This one was quite acidic. ‘Not so bad,’ she murmured.
‘Have you spoken to Emily yet?’ he asked.
‘No. I’ll do it tomorrow. I think it’s best she gets to talk things through with Saul first.’
‘Yeah. Boy, has he got some explaining to do.’
‘I don’t think he has, actually. And what there is, he can blame on me.’
‘Hey,’ Paresh said. ‘I don’t think you’ve done anything wrong.’
Angela grinned down at him. ‘Sweets, that list is so long I wouldn’t even know where to start.’ She shrugged out of her borrowed robe. It would’ve been nice if she was wearing something thin and lacy for him, but outside the lounge the bungalow wasn’t that warm, so she’d settled for some PJ trousers loaned by Emily and Saul’s mauve sweatshirt.
‘I wasn’t kidding about my ribs,’ he said glumly as she wiggled down into the sleeping bag beside him. ‘They do still hurt. The doc said nothing too strenuous.’
‘Hmm, I like a challenge.’
Paresh laughed. ‘I still don’t understand you.’
‘Many have tried.’ She turned on her side to look at him. The skin on his face was peeling where it wasn’t scabbed. He looked exhausted, a deep-down fatigue that would take a long time to expunge. She realized she could look at that face for a long time without growing tired of it. ‘I want you to know this: I am genuinely fond of you. We’re not going to get married or anything. Clear? But I’m happy right now. And I can’t remember the last time that happened. You’re a part of that, so let’s keep going with what we’ve got. I don’t want to be unhappy.’
‘Sure. I can see why you’re happy. Rebka is quite something.’
‘She certainly is.’
‘So do you trust the avatar?’
‘You’re looking at and judging the avatar, not the life which animates it. Its shape makes you see human. That’s a mistake.’
‘That’ll be a yes, then.’
She kissed him. ‘I think we’re going to be okay.’
‘Given where we were this time yesterday, you may just be right.’
‘Paresh. Thanks for not doubting me, for believing in me back in the canyon. It’s meant an awful lot to me these last few months.’
He nodded wisely. ‘It’s been a strange day, all right. But I’m glad it happened.’
‘It’s been a strange life,’ Angela said. ‘So far.’
June 2152
It was Will who got to land the lightwave ship, under supervision from Caspar North – after all he was still only eighteen and therefore officially just a trainee. Zara fumed and sulked the whole way down from the habitat amalgamation in its geostationary orbit around Sirius XIV. At sixteen she was only ranked as a cadet, so all she got to fly was a training-zone virtual.
Sid was very good for the whole eight-minute hop down. He didn’t grip the edges of the acceleration couch in terror, or anything.
They touched down on one of the landing field’s pads on the outskirts of Burradon, as they’d named the planet’s first settlement town. Will joined them in the main passenger cabin, grinning broadly.
‘Did you feel a bump?’ he asked his family.
‘Nothing until you switched the gravity field off,’ Jacinta told him. ‘I think I can tell the difference from Earth.’
Sid certainly couldn’t. After nine years, he was so used to the spin gravity of the big habitat he’d forgotten what straight planetary gravity was like. His inner ear was only mildly perturbed as they walked out of the airlock into the hot air.
Apart from its two oceans, Sirius XIV was a desert from pole to pole. Sid had seen the dazzling ice caps from orbit, but underneath the new glaciers there was only sterile sand. When they arrived a month earlier, taking three days to decelerate the entire Jupiter constellation down from point-nine lightspeed, the planet was completely sterile. Devoid of even a single bacterium.
The ultimate blank canvas, Constantine said. A world where any possibility could be realized.
The powdery sand under Sid’s boots was an uninspiring dull ochre, rucked up with footprints, wheel tracks, and rills of rainwater. He had to slip on sunglasses against the sharp glare of the blue-white star which had now regained its former glory. When he stared up into the deep sapphire sky he could just see the spark-point of Sirius B, a thumb’s width to the side of its primary. He tracked south. Like a particularly bright star, St Libra twinkled above the horizon. Twenty-three million kilometres away, yet with a distinctive oval profile from its rings. XIV didn’t even have a moon.
There were mountains away to the east, a tall range fringed by snowy peaks. Clouds were piling up around them. It rained frequently in Burradon. Fast warm showers several times a day. Perfect for plants and crops and even trees. It also produced a lot of humidity, especially with the sea ten kilometres away.
A buggy pulled up in front of them. Its Hi-Q auto quested a link and told them it was assigned to drive them to their newly constructed house. The landing field octocyber loaded their bags into the boot, and they were off.
Beyond the landing field, the first district was neumanetic, basic cyberblocs producing more of their own. Big cubes with black PV skin splitting off sections like geometric amoeba. Once they were free they absorbed more raw from the thick pipes threading along the side of the dirt track, expanding into set function producers. The initial stages of development had focused on microfacturing houses complete with domestic units, followed by human basics like clothes, furniture, vehicles . . . After that, Burradon had concentrated on churning out bioform systems.
Sid watched with delight as they drove past the onion-shaped neumanetics of the bioversity seeders. Aerostats were inflating out of the pinnacles, big oval envelopes with their bulging breeder vats at the bottom, bioreactors that sucked moisture out of the muggy atmosphere to infect with dozens of species of soil bacteria that sprayed out of the bottom like a low-pressure rocket. Bacteria which multiply rapidly, etching nutrients out of the naked minerals, preparing the ground for the next stage.
Algae would come next, establishing a textured biological component in the matrix of sand. Moulds, fungi; all had their slot on the timetable drawn up on the nine-year voyage.
In a couple of years’ time the first batches of insects would be released, their eggs gestated in their billions in clone vats to be scattered across the land. Finally, the seeds would come, and flowers would bloom across the desert. Forests and meadows; jungles
and savannahs – all would rise to coat the land in a lush emerald terrestrial-growth. Nature’s natural order would assume primacy, no longer requiring human assistance, and the bioform would end. Animals would charge out of their pens, enjoying their freedom along with the people who’d been transplanted here.
Just seeing the aerostats floating away to roam across the globe wherever the winds took them, Sid knew he’d made the right decision. Judging by her expression, Jacinta was sharing the thought. They clasped hands, and kissed.
‘Urrgh.’ Zara wrinkled her nose up and turned away.
‘Look,’ Will shouted, pointing. ‘The gateway.’
Several kilometres beyond the town’s expanding boundary, the gateway was slowly being resurrected inside a massive, open-ended building. The components they’d dismantled in Newcastle had been methodically examined, refurbished and upgraded by the constellation’s AIs on the voyage. Now a scaffold lattice rippled beneath slick triangular automata that were slowly and carefully locking the individual units back into place.
‘There goes the neighbourhood,’ Zara said. ‘And we only just got here.’
‘The migration over will be gradual,’ Jacinta said. ‘It’ll have to be. Even our neumanetics can’t cope with everybody all at once.’
‘They said Brinkelle will be first across,’ Sid said. ‘It’s supposed to be symbolic. Setting an example.’
‘Very symbolic,’ Will said. ‘The lightwave fleet’s been ferrying over key people for a week now.’
‘Will the Aldred-avatar be going the other way?’ Zara muttered snidely.
‘Behave,’ Sid told her mildly.
The rolling plain which the bulk of the town was built on began to dip down, and they were on a massive rugged slope which led down to the emerald sea that sparkled enticingly. Streams rippled down gullies, falling down steep sections into small deep pools the water had already eroded. Switchback roads, the envy of any Italian mountain village, criss-crossed the gradient, linking long terraces bulldozed out for a swathe of individual houses.
‘It’s all freshwater,’ Zara exclaimed happily. ‘And we don’t have to worry about sharks or alligators or jellyfish or adradoth or visimines. Can we go in now, Dad, please? Please-please?’
Sid looked down to the bottom of the slope, where the shore curved into a string of small coves. Ripples lapped against the claggy saturated sand. There were people already down there, splashing about.
‘If we can find the swimsuits, sure,’ he said.
Zara kissed him happily. ‘Thank you, Daddy.’
He smiled back, perfectly content. But part of him was wondering how much longer she’d ask him for permission to do what she wanted.
The house they’d been allocated was a low villa with a lot of glass facing the sea. A long veranda ran along the front, complete with outdoor furniture.
‘Wow,’ Sid said, as the teenagers ran on ahead, shouting to each other about which room they were going to claim for their own. ‘We really did leave Jesmond behind.’
Jacinta’s lips pulled back into a rictus smile. ‘Looks wrong without any plants,’ she said wistfully. ‘We need trees – palm trees. Some rose bushes at least.’
‘You can always go back.’
‘Oh shut up.’
Two women were walking along the terrace towards them. They could have been sisters they were so similar, one looked to be in her early twenties, while the other was probably eighteen. Sid frowned as a memory tickled him; the older one had long blonde hair that blew about a lot in the wind gusting up from the sea.
‘Hello there,’ she said cheerfully, pushing errant strands away from her face. ‘Looks like we’re going to be neighbours. Rebka and I just got in from St Libra last night.’
‘Hi,’ Jacinta said. ‘That’s great. We’ve got a couple of kids about your age.’
Sid found himself grinning. ‘You’re Angela,’ he said.
‘Yes. How do you know that?’
‘I’ve been reading your file on the voyage from Earth. I’m really pleased to meet you, pet, we have a lot to talk about.’
2377
The ellipsoid lightwave shuttle slipped silently over the rolling landscape that had once been a delightful park. Today, plants and trees from eight different planets, originally selected for their elegant ornamental looks, fought a losing battle against New Monaco’s native vegetation that was seeking to reclaim the ground from the exotic foreigners. It looked as if they were sinking under wave after wave of creepers and spindly blue flokgrass.
Angela’s ancillary neural plexus directed the shuttle to circle the ruins at the centre of the park. She was surprised and saddened by how much the enormous mansion had decayed. It was over quarter of a millennium now since she’d caught her last glimpse of the scrumptious DeVoyal palace from the rear of Bantri’s plane as it flew her to her new life, but even so . . .
Most of the roofing had buckled and fallen in, the shattered panels allowing centuries of rain to gush along the exquisite polished wood flooring, turning the stairs into elaborate curving waterfalls before they rusted and rotted away. That stage of decay gave the plants a better root, allowing bushes and even small trees to grow in the crumbling remains of abandoned furniture and plush fittings.
The stone walls of the central double-H structure had fared a little better, but then they were a metre thick, reinforced by a carbon-meshed concrete core. Wispy flokgrass sprouted from fractured crevices. The creepers which had marched across the parkland now swarmed up the vertical redoubt, their intrusive, persistent stem fronds attacking the stone until it began to flake and fall, carving random organic shapes amid the original gargoyles and fluting. Commanding stately façades that had once known imperial gold light shining from a thousand windows every night were now broken sagging husks of their former selves, the glittering windows empty alcoves devoid of glass.
The shuttle touched down a hundred metres from the end of the west wing. Angela was ready to bounce it back up immediately – she was nervous that any motion would send the whole time-crushed edifice crumbling into its final cataclysm. But nothing moved outside, no tremble shivering along the cracked stonework. The old place was going to survive a few years yet.
‘Told you it was real,’ she said to the three children clustering round her. ‘Come on, let’s go take a look.’
They raced out onto what had once been a lawn so flat and smooth you could’ve used it as a golf green, their shrill happy cries absorbed by the still summer air. Try as she might, Angela couldn’t remember if New Monaco had any dangerous animals. Her natural memory was completely shot these days – everything important was stored in her adjuvant neurology, and one day she’d get round to some proper indexing. But the children all had Dn-bands round their wrists, so it didn’t matter.
She slipped some sunglasses on, warding off the sun’s glare as it blazed down out of the violet-shaded sky.
‘Did you really live here, Grandmamma?’ little Hollyn asked, her golden hair of coiled ringlets bouncing about as she hopped from foot to foot. Hollyn could never keep still, just like her mother, Scyritha.
Angela searched along the base of the wall, seeing the deep sag in the creeper which must be the archway to the inner courtyard. ‘Yes, sweets, I did. In one of the inner sections.’
‘So you really are a princess?’ Octavio asked with his perpetual cheeky smile.
‘I was, darling, a very long time ago.’
‘It must have been amazing.’
‘The universe was different then, but no, not really. I enjoyed myself, but that was all.’
She allowed them to run on ahead, playing explorers while she made her way over to the grove of eight ancient oaks. This was one place she didn’t need to run a request through her adjuvant neurology to find. The last time she’d stood here the oaks were saplings, barely reaching up to her shoulder. Today they were approaching their last decades, with huge gnarled trunks, rotting bark, and dead broken branches stabbing into the quiet v
iolet sky.
Right in the centre of the grove was a simple octagonal black marble pillar. It was on a plinth, she knew, but that had long ago vanished under moss and creepers.
Angela placed a single red rose against the marble’s weathered surface. ‘Hello Daddy,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry it took me so long. But oh you should see the life I’ve had. I think you’d be proud of me. I really do. Our family is so big now, and fabulous. You made it happen, Daddy. You had me, and I’m so grateful for that. Thank you.’
Her hand wiped away a tear which had leaked out from below her sunglasses. Then she turned and went back to the children who had found one of the big fountain ponds. They laughed as they slid down the steep moss-covered slope.
Hollyn grinned as Angela rejoined them. Her little arm waved at the huge palace. ‘How many people lived here, Grandmamma? Was our family just as big back then?’
Angela smiled and tucked some of her rebellious hair back behind her ear. ‘No, there was just the two of us living here; me and my father.’
The children stared at her goggle-eyed, not sure if she was teasing them.
‘Two?’ squeaked Shawanna. The little girl looked from her great-ancestor to the looming ruin, then back again. Total disbelief was written all over her.
‘And an awful lot of servants – people who looked after us,’ Angela explained hurriedly.
‘What did you do all day?’
‘Good question,’ Angela admitted. ‘I went to a lot of parties, travelled to all the planets we had in those days. It kept me busy. I even fell in love for the first time.’
‘With a prince?’ Hollyn asked hopefully.
‘Yes, with a prince.’
‘Is he our ancestor, too?’
‘No darling. I was stupid, I let him get away. But he helped me once, when I really really needed it. That’s the reason half of you exist today. He was a true prince, you see.’
‘Where is he now?’
‘I don’t know.’ She looked back at the palace, seeing it as it had been in those glory days, its fabulous rooms filled with all those glamorous empty people as they partied the weeks and years away in decadent splendour because they knew nothing else. It was nice to have those memories, but they weren’t important, not any more. Just a golden childhood summer day to reminisce about fondly.