The Dreaming

  Paul shrugged. “Whichever one it is, it’s not a human destiny.”

  “Our destiny is what we decide to make it. Free choice, remember.”

  “You’re wrong, son. I see you believe in yourself, and I wish you well in that. But you’re wrong.”

  “Okay, we’ll just differ on that one. What happened to Erik?”

  “Bodyloss.” Paul caught Aaron’s expression. “Not us, it was a genuine accident. He was working hard to support both girls. A decent lad, I guess. The farmer he was helping out didn’t do very good maintenance. The agribot chewed him up something bad. This was maybe six months after the kids were born. His insurance was all paid up, but he’d only just had his memorycell fitted. It’s always the same in cases like that. The new body only has a few months of memories, which is never enough to install a decent level of personality. In his re-life state he was very childlike, ironically because his entire childhood was what he lacked. There was no real emotional connection with the sisters and his two children. Not immediately. Imelda worked hard at correcting that. She did well. They went off together. Sabine and little Inigo got left behind. It kicked off a huge family row. The sisters never really spoke after that.”

  “Which is why Aunt Imelda got written out of his official history.”

  “That’s pretty much it. Yes.”

  ***

  “I’ve never met a more despicable human,” Corrie-Lyn said as the regrav capsule lifted from the ranch. “And I include our dear Cleric Conservator in that statement.”

  “Did you ever meet a Higher angel?”

  “No.”

  “Well then.”

  “That’s it?” she shouted angrily. “That’s your justification?”

  “I’m not trying to justify anything. All I’m doing is pointing out that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. What he used to do was part of the era.”

  “He’s a psychopath. Fuck knows how many babies he’s killed. He belongs in suspension for the rest of eternity.”

  “Dead, you mean.”

  “Whatever!” she snapped, and slumped down into the cushioning. Her delicate features set in a furious sulk.

  “I told you to leave the talking to me.”

  “Shut the fuck up.”

  “Well at least he helped us.”

  “How?”

  “There now you see, if you hadn’t gone stomping off in a huff…”

  “Screw you. I bet you were Protectorate before the memory wipe. It certainly fits.”

  “No.”

  “You can’t be certain, though. And how come you have such highly placed contacts in their filthy organization?”

  “I simply know who to ask in such circumstances, that’s all. Information does not imply compliance; and I don’t know where my data originates from.”

  “Pah!” She turned to watch the desert skim past.

  Aaron waited a minute for her to relent. When she didn’t, he smiled quietly and said, “Inigo bought a rejuvenation policy.”

  “So?” She managed to spit it out with more petulance than a tantruming five-year-old.

  “It was part of his attempt to fit in with a normal existence,” Aaron continued passively. “No one with biononics needs a rejuvenation treatment, that’s strictly for Advancers and normals. Biononics maintain human cells at an optimum state; the body doesn’t age biologically after you hit twenty-five. He did it to fool the Protectorate. After all, he knew what his heritage was, which means he knew what they would do to him if he made a slip.”

  “And that helps us how?”

  “It means he had a secure memory store. It probably dates right up to his assignment to Centurion Station.”

  “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you were deaf. And that helps us how?”

  “Somewhere on Anagaska there’s an electronic version of the young Inigo’s personality. Alkoff gave me the name of the company he bought the policy from.”

  “That’s not going to—Oh dear Ozzie! You have got to be kidding.”

  Aaron grinned cheerfully at her. “About time this planet saw a little excitement.”

  ***

  Prior to the Starflyer war, when the Commonwealth was essentially one society comprising predominantly physical citizens, the government created a very senior committee named the Exo-Protectorate Council whose brief was to evaluate the threat level presented by each new alien species as it was discovered. After ANA came on line and took over design, manufacture, and operation of the Commonwealth Navy’s warships, threat became something of a non-term. If the old Commonwealth could defeat the Primes, ANA with its near post-physical technology was unlikely to be menaced by anything less than a malevolent post-physical. That wasn’t to say that the remaining physical sector of the Commonwealth couldn’t encounter a whole load of grief out among the stars. So the ExoProtectorate Council lived on in a modified form inside ANA, operating independently from ANA:Governance.

  Its meetings were few and infrequent. Therefore, when Admiral Kazimir called for one, every delegate appeared, suspecting the reason. They met in a neutral perceptual reality in a secure location within ANA, comprising an old-fashioned conference room with rather extravagant white and orange furniture and a panoramic window showing them the Mollavian plains with their wall of hydrogen volcanoes. Sheets of ice-pebble meteorites sleeted downwards, burning crimson contrails with lightning forks rippling in their wake.

  Kazimir activated the perceptual reality, and materialized in the seat at the head of the table. Gore flicked in a millisecond later, sitting directly to Kazimir’s right. He was followed by Justine. Ilanthe was next to appear, a delicate-looking woman dressed in a blue and grey leotard. Her dark hair had been cropped short and coloured with purple streaks. They didn’t represent any kind of enrichments, they were just highlights. It was a style which Kazimir thought he recognized, but couldn’t quite place without running a check through his enhanced neural structure. Ilanthe wasn’t worth the effort; she was the Accelerator Faction’s appointment to the Council, and enjoyed making mischief where she could. The trick with her was not to rise to the bait.

  Crispin Goldreich arrived in the seat next to Justine. Over a thousand years ago he’d been a Senator sitting on the original ExoProtectorate Council. It was an appointment he’d maintained ever since. Kazimir and ANA:Governance allowed him to remain because when it came to advising on the political angle of a crisis there were few better short of a full Governance convocation. Unfortunately, his usefulness was limited by a somewhat xenophobic view of aliens; several members of his family had been lost on Nattavaara during the Starflyer War, which had shaped his opinion ever since. As such he was a strong advocate of both the Isolationist and Internalist Factions.

  The last two were Creewan and John Thelwell, who respectively put forward Custodian and Darwinist Faction positions.

  “Thank you for attending,” Kazimir said. “I have implemented this Council because the situation with regards to the Ocisen Empire has entered a new stage. The Navy squadron deployed in the Hancher domain have detected a massive Empire fleet is now in flight. Its trajectory is aimed directly at the Commonwealth, specifically the sector containing Ellezelin.”

  “How many ships?” Justine asked.

  “Two thousand eight hundred and seventeen,” Kazimir replied. “Of which nine hundred are their Starslayer class, the biggest most expensive warships they’ve ever built. The Empire’s economy has suffered a significant downturn over the last forty years in order to facilitate their production. They are armed with warheads similar to quantumbusters. They think we don’t know about them, but we detected the trials they conducted forty-five years ago.”

  “They have quantumbusters?” Crispin asked.

  “A variant of, yes,” Kazimir said. “Such a development was inevitable. They make our atom-bomb-era species look like a bunch of pacifists.”

  “And the Navy hasn’t bothered to share this with us?”

  “The Empire believe
s their advantage is that we don’t know. To make it public knowledge that the Empire possesses a device which the External Worlds would regard as a doomsday weapon would be to give away our advantage, not to mention damaging public confidence.”

  “They must be insane,” Creewan muttered. “The Emperor must realize how we’ll react to an assault of that nature. They know how strong we are.”

  “Actually, they don’t,” Kazimir said. “Nobody outside ANA:Governance and myself knows the exact capability of the deterrence fleet.”

  “Please tell me it is strong enough to deal with the Ocisen Empire.”

  “Don’t concern yourself on that score. They do not pose any sort of threat.”

  “Are they alone?” Gore asked. “The Ambassador was quite adamant that they’d dug up some decent allies.”

  “There were no non-Empire ships in the fleet which launched,” Kazimir said.

  “We’ll make a politician out of you yet, my boy. So do we know for sure that the Starslayer class are only armed with quantumbusters, or have they found some nasty left overs from someone who went post-physical?”

  “We’d have to intercept a Starslayer and scan it to be certain of the precise contents,” Kazimir said. “I don’t advise that. In Ocisen terms that provocation would be a declaration of war. Plus, we’d tip their hand how powerful we are.”

  “Well what the hell do you advise?” Crispin asked. “They’re going to find out eventually.”

  “I’d like to avoid that. What I’d like to see applied to the Ocisens is something along the lines of intense diplomatic persuasion that they turn the fleet round and go home.”

  “Won’t happen,” Creewan said. “If the Empire has launched what is essentially their entire Navy at us, it will be politically impossible for them to return until the Pilgrimage has been halted. Asking them nicely just won’t hack it. We’ll have to use force.”

  “What about another more immediate threat to the Empire?” Justine suggested. “Some unknown ships approaching from another direction? We could deliver that, surely?”

  “Yes,” said Kazimir. “But it simply postpones the inevitable. We can manufacture what appears to be a threat, but if their fleet returns to challenge an intruder then our bluff will be called. I cannot blow up star systems simply to maintain an illusion. No matter the morality, there is a considerable physical problem with radiation. Our Firewall project showed that.”

  “How long until they get here?” Ilanthe asked.

  “Their flight-time to Ellezelin is seventy-nine days,” Kazimir said. “A significant figure, because the Pilgrimage fleet will not be completed by then. It is reasonable to assume their aim is to hit the Pilgrimage ships while they’re still on the ground. If the Living Dream were to get its ships into space, they would be a lot harder to intercept, especially for the Empire.”

  “Then I don’t understand your reluctance to create a diversion. Once the Pilgrimage ships are in space, the Empire fleet is effectively neutralized. You don’t have to do anything as dramatic as blow up a star on the other side of the Empire. Launch a thousand drones with a phantom signature, so it appears a hostile fleet is heading to the Empire. Buy us some time for Living Dream.”

  “They’d know,” Gore said. “It’s the timing again. They launch their fleet. We have to delay it and oh look, here’s an unknown threat coming at them from the other side of space. How about that for coincidence? Even the Ocisens aren’t that stupid.”

  “Don’t count on it,” John Thelwell muttered.

  “It would have to be a credible threat to divert them,” Kazimir said.

  “So skulk around the Empire’s borders and wreck a couple of stars, or at least planets.”

  “We employ the word Empire too glibly,” Justine said. “The most literal translation of their planets is, Worlds upon which we nest. I’m ashamed this committee is prepared to demonize the Ocisens to justify force. We must concentrate on peaceful solutions.”

  Ilanthe gave Gore a small victory smile as he glowered at his daughter.

  “If they weren’t sending a fleet towards us armed with enough quantumbusters to wipe out every Commonwealth planet I might not refer to them as a bunch of psychopathic fuckheads,” Gore snapped. “As it is, we are here to advise the Navy on how to respond. You met the Ambassador. Exactly what sort of peaceful overture do you think the Empire will respond to?”

  “We have to provide them with options,” Justine said. “Preferably ones which allow them to save face.”

  “Like pressuring Living Dream not to launch its ridiculous Pilgrimage,” Creewan said.

  “Outside this committee’s remit,” Ilanthe said swiftly. “We advise the Navy on its response.” She didn’t even turn to look at Creewan. “You want to push for something like that, bring it up at a political meeting, or even Governance.”

  “It is a valid option,” Justine said.

  “Not here it isn’t. Here we decide on how many of their suns we turn nova in order to convince them to turn back.”

  “Nobody is turning Empire suns nova,” Kazimir said. “As I said, their fleet does not pose a physical threat to any aspect of the Commonwealth. It can be effectively neutralized.”

  “That’s quite a big claim,” Ilanthe said. “You sure about that?”

  “Providing they do not possess an excess of stolen post-physical technology, yes.”

  “Then do just that, neutralize them. Stop them cold in interstellar space. It’s not like they have a back-up fleet to send if anything goes wrong.”

  Kazimir glanced round the table. “Is that the recommendation of this committee?”

  “It certainly is not,” Justine said.

  “And your plan is…?” Ilanthe enquired archly.

  “A warning,” John Thelwell said. “In all likelihood, several warnings, considering who we’re dealing with. Followed by a demonstration of our capability and intent.”

  “Would that be several demonstrations?” Justine asked acidly. “Just to get the point over how big and scary we are.”

  “Once they see they cannot stop the Pilgrimage they will turn back.”

  “That implies a governing factor of logic and reason,” Crispin said. “This is the Ocisens we’re talking about. They’ve committed to stopping us. Even if it meant the death of every starship in their fleet, they’ll keep coming.”

  “The warships will be disabled, not destroyed,” Kazimir said. “I could not countenance such a loss of life.”

  “Then I don’t even see what you convened us for,” Crispin said.

  “Because Governance and I don’t want to reveal our true capability outside a genuine and serious threat, which this is not.”

  “Rock and a hard place,” Gore grunted. “The only way to deal with them without huge loss of life all round is by using ANA’s technology, which in turn makes us frightening to all the physical aliens knocking around this section of the galaxy.”

  “This is a morals debate?” Ilanthe mocked.

  “It might even get the Raiel worried about us,” Justine said.

  “Gets my vote,” Gore said. “Supercilious little turds. It’s about time someone gave their pedestal a good kicking.”

  “Oh stop it,” Justine told him.

  Gore leaned forward. “Deliver a warning to the command ship,” he said. “If it is ignored, disable that ship. If they continue after that, take the lot of ‘em down. Use the lowest-level of technology we’ve got that will do the job, but do it.”

  “Seconded,” Crispin said.

  “I would point out that it will be a nestling of the Emperor in charge of the fleet,” said Creewan. “The political implications of the ruling nest being defeated are not good. The likelihood of subsequent instability are strong.”

  “Which neither harms nor concerns us,” John Thelwell said. He gave the Custodian a dismissive glance. “We’ve given the Empire a beating before; they never learn.”

  “Our position gives us an obligation,” Justine said. br />
  “Only according to human morals,” Ilanthe said. “These are aliens.”

  “I wish to remain true to myself, thank you,” Justine said primly.

  “Of course you do.”

  “I vote against any physical force being used against the Empire fleet, no matter how restrained. We need to seek an alternative.”

  “Thank you, Mother,” Kazimir said. “Anyone else against the motion?”

  Creewan raised his hand.

  Kazimir looked round the table. “Then it is the majority vote that the Navy delivers a warning to the command ship, and subsequently disables it if that warning is ignored. I will initiate that immediately.”

  “And what if they keep on coming after the command ship is taken out?” Justine asked. “Which they will, and you all know it.”

  “Then I will reconvene this committee,” Kazimir said.

  She let out an exasperated hiss of breath, and against all etiquette withdrew instantly. The others stared at the vacated space as the perceptual reality adjusted to her absence.

  “That’s what being in a real body does for you,” Ilanthe muttered archly.

  “I will, of course, provide a secure link to the Navy ship delivering the ultimatum,” Kazimir said. “All of you will be able to access the event.”

  “How long until the demand is made?” John Thelwell asked.

  “I’d like to bring in a ship which I know has the ability to disable a Starslayer without loss of life,” Kazimir said. “We have that capability in the Hancher assistance squadron. Flight time will be within ten days. The warning will allow them one Earth day to turn round.”

  “We’ll be back here in a fortnight, then,” Gore predicted.

  ***

  Less than a second after the meeting officially ended, Ilanthe requested access to Gore’s personal perceptual reality. He’d been expecting it and permitted her entry as he ambled along the white-sand beach below the headland. She walked up out of the water, wearing a blue and white bikini.

  “Very Ursula Andress,” he said appreciatively. Gone was the spiky Cat hairstyle of the meeting, she was shaking droplets out of long honey-coloured tresses.