The Abyss Beyond Dreams (86 page)

‘What in Uracus is that?’ Bethaneve yelled.

Slvasta stared down towards the compound. Just beyond it, squatting on the side of the river, was a bizarre structure that hadn’t been there when he’d visited before. The bottom
section was a clump of thick cylinders standing in a wide circular pond, caged by a bracelet of red-painted scaffolding, while the tip . . . ‘That’s . . . ’ he grunted in
bewilderment. It was bizarre, impossible, but the bulbous triangle perched on top of the cylinders reminded him of the old Landing Plane statue on the junction of Walton Boulevard and Struzaburg
Avenue. ‘A flying machine!’

Then he knew it was all true. That Nigel and his nest knew how to make the quantumbusters work again. Nigel, who had somehow managed to build a flying machine. Nigel, who was going to kill all
the humans on Bienvenido to make way for his own kind. The Fallers.

‘Charge!’ he bellowed, and compelled his horse forwards. He galloped down the slope, heedless of the animal’s distress, ignoring the silent ranks of mods. All he saw was the
flying machine, which was surely carrying the quantumbuster.

‘Lieutenant,’ Nigel’s urbane ’path resonated inside Slvasta’s head. ‘Always a pleasure. But I must insist you stop. In fact, you need to turn
round.’

‘Fuck you, Faller!’ Slvasta shouted in glorious defiance. Behind him, the regiment was flowing forwards, horses starting their final gallop as they gathered momentum down the
slope.

‘Son, you’re going to get yourself hurt. The blast when my starship takes off is going to be lethal within a kilometre. Please stop.’

‘Liar. I will burn you from our world. I will kill all of you.’ Fields rushed past in a blur. He’d never been more alive, more determined. Never more
right
.

‘Oh for crud’s sake, you dumbass fanatic. Turn round. Now. Last warning.’

Slvasta yelled wordlessly and tugged the carbine from its saddle holster. The horse was jolting him about so much it was difficult to hold it steady on the flying machine.

‘Oh, no, you don’t,’ Nigel ’pathed.

Slvasta just caught sight of a large chunk of flesh and bone tearing out of his horse’s head where the bullet struck. Then the animal was collapsing, tumbling forward in a crazy broken
cartwheel. He was flung out of the saddle, flailing through the air to land with an almighty, rib-breaking thump on the stone road, momentum skidding him along, skin ripping. Then rolling, rolling,
rolling, with pain buffeting him from every nerve he possessed.

‘Ten, nine, eight . . .’

One last flip and he was still. Staring up at the clear evening sky with its emerging nebulas glimmering faintly. Too dazed even to move.

‘. . . four, three . . .’

The aether boiled with frantic ’paths as the regiment tried to stop their breakneck charge.

‘Slvasta!’ Bethaneve cried.

‘. . . one, zero. Ignition! Oh, hell, but I’m good!’

Slvasta saw a searingly bright orange flash coming from the base of the flying machine’s cylinders. An explosion, he knew. And he snarled in triumph. The Faller contraption had failed and
blown up. Then, as he turned his neck so he could get a better look at Nigel’s destruction, the light dimmed slightly as a phenomenal cloud of steam erupted from the pond. It shot across the
ground at a speed he couldn’t even follow, smothering everything in its path and soaring upwards in vast exuberant billows. Strangest of all, it made no sound.

The glaring light returned, shining through the racing cloud, climbing vertically and growing brighter as it did so. That was when the sound hit with the force of a hurricane. It lifted Slvasta
from the road and dashed him against the hedge. Despite his strongest shell, its roar shook his very bones, threatening to rattle every joint apart with its vehemence. He screamed as the vibrations
hammered into his organs.

A dazzling topaz light burst from the top of the furious steam cloud, five massive flames spearing down from the base of the cylinders, slamming out solid columns of smoke below them. ‘Is
this the quantumbuster?’ he pleaded feebly. The flying machine was racing up faster and faster now, its terrible flames surely splitting the sky in half with their power.
Is this how the
world ends?

The edge of the steam cloud slammed into him. Unbearable heat adding to his agony. He lost consciousness.

*

Kysandra saw the brilliant ignition flash. Then steam hurtled out from the blast pool, engulfing the solid rocket boosters for a long moment. Even from her safe distance, the
violence of the event was awesome.
Skylady
rose in splendid serenity from the elemental chaos, slicing upwards in a smooth curve, trailing fire, smoke and thunder in its wake.

‘She’s up!’ Kysandra cried exultantly. Her feet wouldn’t keep still, her arms flapped as if she was trying to take off in the starship’s wake. Heart racing. Jaw
open in magnificent astonishment.

Skylady
continued her flawless climb.

‘I love you, Nigel,’ Kysandra shouted. ‘I’ve always loved you.’ By now she was craning her neck to keep track of the painfully bright spectacle.
Skylady
was so high – ten kilometres at least.

Then there was an almighty burst of smoke, and the five spikes of flame died. Kysandra screamed.

‘Separation!’ Fergus assured her.

A new, single plume of flame stabbed downwards. And the five dead boosters shrugged away from it, still trailing thin tendrils of smoke, arching back towards the ground like a flower
nebula’s petals opening.

Skylady
was accelerating hard now on its remaining solid rocket booster, rising out of the atmosphere, its smoke exhaust expanding wide as it reached the zenith of the sky. Kysandra
watched it go, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. ‘Goodbye, Nigel. But I will find you again, wherever you are.’

*

Pain meant Slvasta was alive. He hadn’t known pain this extreme since the day Quanda had captured him. A pitiful whimper escaped his mouth as he tried to move. Even the
slightest motion amplified the pain. His ex-sight probed round weakly, discerning a man looming over him.

‘Ah, prime minister. Glad to see you survived.’

‘Ingmar?’ Slvasta croaked.

‘Unfortunately for you, no.’

Slvasta forced his eyes open. A thin grey mist swirled energetically across the valley, the remnants of the flying machine’s mercurial steam cloud. It was Captain Philious looking down at
him, a standard regiment-issue carbine held casually in one hand.

‘What happened?’ Slvasta asked.

‘The machine people flew away. It was incredibly impressive.’

‘Faller bastards. What are they going to do?’

‘No, Slvasta,’ Captain Philious said with a sigh of genuine disappointment. ‘They weren’t Fallers. And I suspect they’ll try and detonate the quantumbuster in the
Forest. We’ll be liberated from the Fallers. Won’t that be something?’

‘We have to stop them!’

‘No, we don’t. They really do seem to know what they’re doing.’ Captain Philious flicked off the carbine’s safety catch.

Slvasta gazed up in disbelief. ‘But, our agreement, the new parliament . . .’

‘Oh, absolutely,’ Captain Philious mocked. ‘That’s how my family maintained its position for three thousand years.’ He pointed the carbine down at Slvasta, and
pulled the trigger.

*

Five hundred metres back up the slope, Bethaneve heard the burst of gunfire and swivelled round. Just in time to see Slvasta’s body torn apart by the full magazine of
bullets Captain Philious emptied into him. Her mouth parted into a desperate O, and her already shaky legs gave out, dropping her to her knees.

She thought she might faint. Most of the regiment’s horses had run amok at the flying machine’s launch. Hers had bolted with the rest, then reared up, sending her toppling from its
saddle. She’d stayed curled up in a ball with her tightest shell spun around her as the horses rampaged past and the steam streaked over her. Pain, shock and misery kept her in that position
for an unknown time. When the worst of it was over, and the astonishing machine was disappearing into the twilight sky, she threw up. After that, she couldn’t stop shaking.

Captain Philious slapped another magazine into his carbine and began ’pathing orders to nearby regiment troopers, calling them to him and instructing them to search out Slvasta’s
bodyguards. Bethaneve’s shakes returned. Slvasta was dead. Dead! Her love. Her soulmate. Already on his way to Giu. All was lost.

‘I’ll join you in the Heart,’ she whispered.
Probably quite soon
.

It was too much to take in, too much to think about. She closed her eyes and tightened her shell again, withdrawing from the world.

‘You can’t stay here.’

Bethaneve stared up fearfully. She didn’t recognize the young man standing next to her. He wore a strange one-piece garment that was an elusive grey colour; he carried one of the sniper
rifles Nigel had supplied to the cells. ‘Who are you?’ she croaked.

‘Demitri. I was grown in the same batch as Coulan.’

‘What?’

‘Sorry. I’m trying to put you at ease. Foolish, given the circumstances, really. But put it this way; Coulan and I are effectively brothers.’

‘Coulan’s dead.’

‘I know.’

‘Slvasta’s dead,’ she said wretchedly. ‘I’m next.’

‘That doesn’t have to be. None of this does.’

Bethaneve started laughing, then trailed away into sobs. ‘We’ll be together. I’ll find him in the Heart.’

‘That’s not going to happen.’

‘He’ll be there. I know he will be.’

‘No, I’m afraid not. In a couple of days there won’t be any Heart, because there won’t be any Void.’

‘Who are you?’

‘We’re from the universe outside. The one your ancestors came from. And we’re going to take you back there.’

‘But . . .’ She glanced up into the darkening sky where a slender thread of smoke was fluorescing a delicate pink-gold in the rays of the sinking sun. ‘Did the flying machine
take the quantumbusters up there into the sky? Captain Philious said they’d destroy the whole world.’

‘He’s wrong. That Forest up there, it’s doing something to damage the Void at a fundamental level, but only across a small section. Nigel is rebuilding the quantumbuster to
replicate that effect; but when it detonates, its version of the Forest’s effect will be orders of magnitude stronger. Think of the Void as a rock with a single tiny crack in it; to break it
you need to put a chisel tip into that crack and give it an almighty whack with a sledgehammer. That’s what the quantumbuster will do. It’ll tear the Void apart. We think.’

‘No more Void?’ Bethaneve asked numbly.

‘No. You’ll be free.’

‘Liberated,’ she said in a tiny voice. ‘That’s what Coulan said. We’ll be liberated.’

‘Yes. So, you see, no more Heart.’

‘But Slvasta’s soul!’ she gasped.

‘Yes, I know. But while the Void exists, there’s a very small window to rescue him.’

‘How?’

‘Hold my hand. I’ll take you to a place where he’s still alive.’

Her thoughts were in turmoil from the grief, from the pain. Nothing made sense. Everything that had happened, everything she’d just been told – it was all just too much to comprehend
right now. But this was Coulan’s brother. And he said there was a chance . . . She clung to that single notion. There was nothing else left.

Bethaneve gripped his hand as if it was the only solid thing remaining in the universe.

‘This is going to feel funny,’ he said, ‘but hang on in there. It’s not for long.’

‘How long?’

‘Oh, about five minutes should do it.’

Somehow the world was fading from sight. She thought she was falling away from it, but inwards. Her perception altered weirdly so she could see shapes behind everything solid, but they were the
same shapes. Then they shifted, multiplying, flashing past. And she was one of those elusive silhouettes herself. Kneeling on the ground saying something to Demitri. Curling up into a ball. On her
knees staring in horror at Slvasta’s murder. Horse racing backwards towards her – Everything stopped, then swept back in at her from all directions.

She hit the ground hard as her horse charged away. More horses galloped past. Hooves flashing frighteningly close to her head.

Bethaneve groaned in shock and refreshed pain. Somewhere in the sky above, a dazzling flame was streaking upwards once more. On the ground, the neat farm compound buildings had been reduced to a
wasteland of smashed, smouldering wood. ‘What happened?’ she yelled.

Demitri crouched down beside her; his stern ’paths and firm teekay guiding the stampeding horses clear of them. ‘We went back in time.’

All she could do was give him a vacant look. ‘What?’

‘Look,’ he said, and pointed. The last of the horses cantered off across the fields, scattering regiment troops onto the soil behind them. And
there
, on the road down below,
a battered and bloody Slvasta was lying motionless, but alive. Her gaze swept up the road. Captain Philious was clambering to his feet. He staggered about, regaining his senses, then his teekay
lifted a carbine from a stunned regiment trooper. His ex-sight probed round, and found Slvasta. He started off along the road.

‘Destiny is a strange thing,’ Demitri said. ‘Normally there is no avoiding it. But here and now you have a chance to alter what you know is about to happen.’

‘Why are you doing this?’ she asked the machine man.

‘We used you and I’m sorry for that. This is our way of saying thank you. But the decision must be yours.’

‘Yes! Oh, great Giu, yes.’

‘Of course. But understand this: the future you face after today will no longer be variable. From now on, destiny cannot be circumvented. You must live with what you have done, no matter
the consequences.’

Bethaneve stared at Captain Philious with supreme hatred. ‘I accept my future, whatever it is.’

‘Very well.’ Demitri levelled the sniper rifle, took careful aim, and blew Captain Philious’s brains out.

*

Pain meant Slvasta was alive. He hadn’t known pain this extreme since the day Quanda had captured him. A pitiful whimper escaped his mouth as he tried to move. Even the
slightest motion amplified the pain. His ex-sight probed round weakly, discerning a woman looming over him.