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Authors: John Meaney

BOOK: Absorption
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To Gavriela this was impossible, despite her acceptance of the situation.
 
—Can our timelines criss-cross without paradox? I can’t see how.
 
It seemed obvious that if they communicated across time and remembered in the past, any number of paradoxes became enabled.
 
—Our meetings here will always occur in the same sequential order, as experienced by each of us individually. Call it a form of temporal tensegrity.
 
Roger was nodding, but Gavriela did not quite understand.
 
—I don’t . . .
 
—It’s a concept that will make sense in your personal future, else the thought would not have resonated at all.
 
That sounded like a paradox, except that their communication was not via sound; but Gavriela noticed how Ulfr had made a sign with his fist. Suddenly it came to her that Ulfr understood the words via his own frame of reference, using concepts that she would consider superstitious - because that gesture was to ward off evil, she was sure of it.
 
None of her own reactions were making sense. Why wasn’t she panicking, filled with hysteria?
 
Then Kenna added:
 
—No one in your lifetime will discover a basic equation that distinguishes future from past. Only the qualified generalisation you call the second law of thermodynamics even attempts the task, and it is not fundamental. There is no such thing as a closed system.
 
Gavriela blinked her transparent eyelids. For sure, if you described a particle’s motion via an equation, whether in mechanics or electromagnetism - such as a billiard ball floating through space - and then replaced
t
with minus
t
, you now had a picture of the same thing moving backwards, with time (or maybe just electric charge) reversed. The new situation would not appear to violate any physical laws; it would just run
backwards
. So the basic equations did not explain why you cannot unbreak an egg or grow younger by the day.
 
Roger touched Gavriela’s shoulder, and there was a spark of light, perhaps some odd reflection of the hall’s illumination.
 
—Don’t worry, I don’t understand either. And I’m alive much later than . . . Kenna, how can I know this? My life is centuries later than Gavi’s.
 
—You have good intuition.
 
—Is that an answer?
 
—It’s deeper than you think.
 
Gavriela looked at Ulfr. Clearly the warrior was content to stand apart from the conversation for now. Perhaps he considered it the realm of wizardry.
 
—Our brains are centuries in the past, yet we’re interacting with here and now. Is that what you’re saying?
 
—Partly, for sure.
 
—Therefore information is propagating backwards in time.
 
Kenna smiled at her and Roger.
 
—In terms that are common to both of you . . . If you stare at a star that is a hundred lightyears away, how long has that photon been travelling?
 
—A century, of course.
 
—And how much time has elapsed as far as the photon is concerned?
 
Gavriela checked for Roger’s reaction, but it was no more than a raised transparent eyebrow. Perhaps the new relativity of her time remained intact for Roger’s generation.
 
—No time at all.
 
—All that energy in the universe, more than the so-called matter, and it comprises splinters of timeless space. A photon is born and dies, travels perhaps across the universe, yet the duration of its life is zero.
 
That was what the equations said. Gavriela did not expect to understand the concepts intuitively, for she was a human being exploring realms beyond the macroscopic world, beyond the environment humanity evolved to cope with.
 
—How does that account for what we’re experiencing?
 
—It doesn’t, but symmetry is one of the most powerful concepts of all. Consider this possibility: splinters of spaceless time, orthogonal to photons. Call them orthons for now.
 
Gavriela shook her head, trying to incorporate the concept in her understanding.
 
—I need to think about it.
 
—That’s one way of formulating our interaction. At least part of it. Enough to work with for the time being.
 
Roger smiled. Perhaps there was more subtle humour here than Gavriela recognized. Or perhaps it was his different knowledge of physics that made his comprehension more sophisticated. If only she could learn from him!
 
Then her fear of paradox returned.
 
—We’re doing something dangerous here, aren’t we?
 
—Yes.
 
This seemed to be what Ulfr was waiting for.
 
—So what is our plan of battle, Lady Kenna?
 
—We devise a campaign, a war, not a single conflict . . . whatever it may boil down to in the final days. Have you identified the enemy?
 
Gavriela shared glances with Roger and Ulfr.
 
—Those touched by darkness?
 
—That’s part of it.
 
Kenna waved towards the table, but it was not an invitation to sit.
 
—We will share knowledge and strength, remembering some consciously. Our first task is to observe, to identify the enemy truly.
 
Ulfr was looking at the spears upon the walls.
 
—And then we fight.
 
This was scaring Gavriela. However much she accepted what was occurring, she was no fighter, and talk of warfare made her sick. Then she realized that Roger must feel the same way, as he asked:
 
—How? And what for?
 
But Kenna’s answer was directed more towards Ulfr.
 
—First we observe, then we deduce the enemy’s intentions.
 
Ulfr bowed his head.
 
—You speak wisdom, Lady Kenna.
 
Roger was looking at Gavriela, and she felt sure his thoughts followed hers. Of the three of them, it was this Ulfr who most closely accepted what Kenna was saying, and was most closely in tune with her intentions. Gavriela and Roger’s sophisticated understanding counted for little.
 
Perhaps Kenna sensed the same thing.
 
—We are all important. Every one of us.
 
—Are we?
 
—Immensely more than you think, good Gavriela. Immensely more.
 
Roger raised his crystal hands.
 
—So what do we do now?
 
—Why . . .
 
Kenna’s smile was a rainbow sculpture.
 
—You wake up, of course.
 
It was ended.
 
TWENTY-THREE
 
FULGOR, 2603 AD
 
In their quickglass bubble-capsule, they moved along a low Fulgor orbit - the planet fat and full, creamy-looking below them - heading for the apex of Barleysugar Spiral. Roger was lost in strange recollections of dreaming in Labyrinth, wondering whether the shock of being in another universe had done strange things to his brain, to his subconscious mind.
 
Mum kept her voice low as she talked to Dad.
 
‘Varlan didn’t want us to hang around, did he?’
 
‘Probably Helena was giving him a hard time.’
 
‘So when you and Varlan talked in private . . . Was there anything Roger and I should know?’
 
‘No. Maybe.’
 
He looked bereft. For a moment, Roger came out of his reverie, wondering how Dad could bear to part from his ship and return to his quotidian existence down below, to his life that was one long acting performance.
 
After leaving the ship wearing quickglass suits as before, they had jetted to Varlan Trelayne’s orbital, where Varlan was quiet and his wife Helena once more did not appear. Meanwhile Dad’s ship returned to mu-space, to do whatever it did while waiting for his call.
 
‘Xavier Spalding is an interesting character,’ said Dad finally. ‘And some of his merchandise could be classified as weapon systems, in the right context on the right world.’
 
Roger pulled himself into the conversation.
 
‘You’re saying Alisha’s father is an arms dealer?’
 
‘That’s exaggerating Varlan’s findings. Let’s say he has more clout and more connections with interesting parts of society than you’d expect, given his respectability.’
 
Then Dad’s expression compressed with concentration, his gaze defocusing. An incoming private call. His throat moved with subvocalized speech. Then he spoke aloud.
 
‘Since this affects my family, I want them in on this.’
 
A real-image holo sharpened before them: the shaven head of Xavier Spalding.
 
‘
That’s fine. If Alisha were at risk, I’d forgo all other considerations.
’
 
‘I’m not clear what you’re offering, or the price.’
 
‘
Future friendship is enough.
’
 
‘That’s not specific, but anyway, in return for what?’
 
‘
There have been certain serious crimes among Luculenti recently. Nothing made public.
’
 
‘And you think I’m involved?’
 
‘
If you were, Carl, I wouldn’t be warning you.
’
 
‘Warning me about what?’
 
‘
All arrivals at Barleysugar Spiral are being deepscanned by peacekeepers.
’
 
Mum sucked in air, then bit her lip.
 
‘That’s perfectly all right with me,’ said Dad.
 
‘
If you’ve nothing to hide.
’
 
‘I don’t, in fact.’
 
‘
I mean absolutely nothing at any level, no subterfuge of any kind. Nothing to show up using the new scanners they’re deploying in public for the first time.
’
 
Dad looked very calm.
 
‘
Designed to counteract all known subversion and shielding methods,
’ Xavier Spalding went on. ‘
And since my folk had some involvement with the design, I’m rather proud of it.
’
 
‘So why tell me?’
 
‘
Well . . . Hello over there, Roger. Alisha seems fond of you.
’
 
‘Er, hello, sir.’
 
‘
Call me Xavier. And allow me to present you with a gift, Carl. And my respects to you, Mrs Blackstone.
’
 
Dad blinked.
 
‘Received. Thank—’
 
‘
Endit.
’
 
Mum said: ‘What has he sent you, Carl?’
 
‘Full schematics and in-house control codes for developers.’
 
‘The scanner design,’ said Roger, ‘but not the shieldware?’
 
‘Perhaps they never coded any.’
 
‘So do we go back to Varlan’s place?’
 
‘No. Let’s not compromise him further.’
 
‘But if they deepscan us for real’ - Mum glanced up to her right, envisioning consequences - ‘they’ll suspect Varlan too.’

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