Sol itself was somewhere in there, at the dead centre of his visual field, and he knew that the navigators on the bridge had elaborate routines to disentangle the relativistic effects from the starfield. But a primitive part of him longed just to see the sunlight again, with his own unaided eyes, for the first time in so many decades- Snow sparkled over the lifedome, gone in an instant. He flinched, half-expecting the blister to crack and crumple over him. He called, "What was that?" that?"
A Virtual of Flood appeared in the air before him, the avatar // used by the ship"s AI to communicate with the crew. "We lost Fist One," Fist One," Flood said bluntly. Flood said bluntly.
"How?"
"A dust grain got it. The earthworms. They blew up an ice asteroid in our path, creating a screen of dust hundreds of kilometres wide. We have defences, of course, but not against motes that size, and at such densities. At our velocity even a sand grain will hit with the kinetic energy of a-"
"There shouldn"t be any asteroids here. We"re out of the plane of the ecliptic."
"Evidently the earthworms have prepared defences."
"So how come we survived?"
"The destruction of One One blew a hole in the debris cloud. We sailed through." blew a hole in the debris cloud. We sailed through."
Densel considered. "So if we follow each other, even if the lead ship is taken out by further screens, it might clear a path for the rest."
"That"s right. We will still achieve our objective if only three, two, even just one of the Fists Fists gets through." Flood hesitated, and the image crumbled slightly, a sign of additional processing power being applied. "There is other news. The Third Wave ships came under fire when they rounded the sun. Two were lost." gets through." Flood hesitated, and the image crumbled slightly, a sign of additional processing power being applied. "There is other news. The Third Wave ships came under fire when they rounded the sun. Two were lost."
"That was smart by the earthworms." Densel wondered if he ought to be exulting at this victory, for Earth, after all, was his home planet. But his heart was on Footprint, with the families he would never see again. He didn"t want anybody to die, he realised.
Flood said, "Smart, yes. But six ships survive, of eight. Meanwhile the earthworms are regrouping. Half of their ships, twelve of them, are heading for Jupiter." Flood nodded. "We have to eliminate the Navy, to win. Then that is where the decisive encounter will come, for the Third Wave."
"And the other earthworm ships?"
"Converging on the course of the Fists." Fists."
Densel nodded. "But now, in Two, Two, I"m in the van. The next in line for the duck shoot." I"m in the van. The next in line for the duck shoot."
Again that hesitation, that fragility. "The crews are conferring. That would not be optimal."
"Optimal?"
"The line is to be reconfigured. Fist Two Fist Two will continue astern of the remaining ships, not in the lead, protected by the others." will continue astern of the remaining ships, not in the lead, protected by the others."
"You want to give Two Two the best chance. Why?" the best chance. Why?"
"Because Two Two has you aboard." The avatar grinned, an imperfectly imaged, eerie sight. "I told you. You are useful, Densel Bel." Theatrically it consulted a wrist.w.a.tch. "Subjectively you are little more than a day away from Sol. Thirty-three hours, that"s all it will be for you. Then it will be done. Try to get some sleep." It crumbled to pixels and disappeared. has you aboard." The avatar grinned, an imperfectly imaged, eerie sight. "I told you. You are useful, Densel Bel." Theatrically it consulted a wrist.w.a.tch. "Subjectively you are little more than a day away from Sol. Thirty-three hours, that"s all it will be for you. Then it will be done. Try to get some sleep." It crumbled to pixels and disappeared.
AD 4820.
S-Day plus 6 Imperial bunker. New York
Admiral Kale was shocked by what he found of New York.
The great wave had spared some of the mighty old buildings, which stood like menhirs, windows shattered, their flanks stained by salt water. But the human city at their feet was devastated, scoured out, millennia of history washed away. Even now the aid workers and their bots dug into the reefs of rubble the wave had left, and the refugees were only beginning to filter back to what remained of their homes.
But in her bunker of Construction Material, deep beneath the ruin of Central Park, the Empress sat beside her pool of logic and light, imperturbable.
"You are angry, Admiral Kale," she said softly.
"Every d.a.m.n place I go on the planet I"m angry," he said. "The destruction of history-the harm done to so many people."
"We are not yet defeated?"
The tone of the question surprised him. "No, ma"am, we are not. We are ma.s.sing the Navy cruisers at Jupiter-"
"I have viewed the briefings," she said.
"Ma"am." He stood and waited.
"I have brought you here, Admiral, to speak not of the present but of the past, and of the future. You spoke of history. What do you know of history, though? What do you know of the origin of the empire you serve-and, deeper than that, the dynasty of the Shiras?"
He was puzzled and impatient. Surely he had better things to do than listen to this. But she was the Empress, and he had no choice but to stand and take it. "Ma"am? I"m a soldier, not a scholar."
"I need you to understand, you see," she rasped. "I need someone someone to bear the truth into the future. For I fear I may not survive this war-at least I may not retain my throne. And a determination that has spanned centuries will be lost." to bear the truth into the future. For I fear I may not survive this war-at least I may not retain my throne. And a determination that has spanned centuries will be lost."
"Ma"am, we"re confident that-"
"Tell me what you know."
Hesitantly, dredging at his memory, he spoke of the Emergency nine hundred years before.
The great engineer Michael Poole had opened up Sol system with his wormhole projects, and worked on the first generations of interstellar craft. But Poole had greater ambitions in mind. He used wormhole technology to establish a time time tunnel: a bridge across fifteen hundred years, a great experiment, a way to explore the future. But Poole"s bridge reached an unexpected sh.o.r.e. The incident that followed the opening of the wormhole was confused, chaotic, difficult to disentangle. It was a war-brief, spectacular, like no battle fought in Sol system before. It was an invasion from a remote future, an age when Sol system would be occupied by an alien power. tunnel: a bridge across fifteen hundred years, a great experiment, a way to explore the future. But Poole"s bridge reached an unexpected sh.o.r.e. The incident that followed the opening of the wormhole was confused, chaotic, difficult to disentangle. It was a war-brief, spectacular, like no battle fought in Sol system before. It was an invasion from a remote future, an age when Sol system would be occupied by an alien power.
The incursion was repelled. Michael Poole drove a captured warship into the wormhole, to seal it against further invasion. In the process, Poole himself was lost in time.
"An invasion from a dark future, yes," yes," hissed the Empress. "An invasion from which the first Shira, founder of the dynasty, herself was a refugee. She hissed the Empress. "An invasion from which the first Shira, founder of the dynasty, herself was a refugee. She saw saw Poole disappear into time, collapsing the wormhole links. And when the way home was lost, Shira was stranded. But she did not abandon the Project." Poole disappear into time, collapsing the wormhole links. And when the way home was lost, Shira was stranded. But she did not abandon the Project."
"The Project?"
"Shira belonged to a philosophico-religious sect called the Friends of Wigner. And their purpose in coming back in time was to send a message to a further future yet ... "
Kale, frustrated, had to endure more of this peculiar philosophising.
Life, Shira said, was essential for the very existence of the universe. Consciousness was like an immense, self-directed eye, a recursive design developed by the universe to invoke its own being-for without conscious observation there could be no actualisation of quantum potential to reality. And if this were true, the goal of consciousness, of life, said Shira, must be to gather and organise data-all data, everywhere-to observe and actualise all events. In the furthest future the confluences of mind would merge, culminating in a final state: at the last boundary to the universe, at timelike infinity.
"And at timelike infinity resides the Ultimate Observer," Shira said quietly. "And the last Observation will be made." She bowed her head in an odd, almost prayerful att.i.tude of respect. "It is impossible for us to believe that the Ultimate Observer will simply be a pa.s.sive eye. A camera, for all of history. We-the Friends of Wigner, the sect to which Shira belonged-believe that the Observer will have the power to study all the nearly-infinite potential histories of the universe, stored in regressing chains of quantum functions. And that the Observer will select, select, actualise a history which maximises the potential of being. Which makes the cosmos through all of time into a shining place, a garden free of waste, pain and death." actualise a history which maximises the potential of being. Which makes the cosmos through all of time into a shining place, a garden free of waste, pain and death."
She lifted her head abruptly, and the light from the logic pool struck shadows in her face. She was quite insane, Kale thought.
"It is essential that humanity is preserved in the optimal reality. What higher purpose can there be? Everything the Friends did was dedicated to the goal of communicating the plight of mankind to the Ultimate Observer. Even the destruction of Jupiter. And even I, stranded here in this dismal past, stranded out of time, have always struggled to do what I could to progress the mighty project." She peered into the logic pool. "I, in my way, am searching . searching . .. " .. "
He stared at her. "Ma"am-you said "we". You speak of yourself yourself as a Friend of Wigner. Not the first Shira." as a Friend of Wigner. Not the first Shira."
She lifted her face, its skin papery.
"You are Shira. The first. There was no dynasty, no thirty-two Shiras, mother and daughter-just you, the first, living on and on. My, you must be nine hundred years The first. There was no dynasty, no thirty-two Shiras, mother and daughter-just you, the first, living on and on. My, you must be nine hundred years old." old."
She smiled. "And yet I will not be born born for another four hundred years. Am I old, or young, Admiral? Once the Poole wormhole was closed down I had lost my route back to the future. I accepted that. But there was always another way back. The long way. I accepted AntiSenescence treatment. I began to accrue power, where I could. And for another four hundred years. Am I old, or young, Admiral? Once the Poole wormhole was closed down I had lost my route back to the future. I accepted that. But there was always another way back. The long way. I accepted AntiSenescence treatment. I began to accrue power, where I could. And then-" then-"
"And then," said Kale, barely believing, "it was a simple matter of living through fifteen centuries-fifty generations-and waiting for your time to come again." said Kale, barely believing, "it was a simple matter of living through fifteen centuries-fifty generations-and waiting for your time to come again."
"You have it, Admiral."
He peered at her. "Were there others like you-others stranded in history?"
"None that remain in Sol system." Her face was blank. "None that survive."
"You monopolised knowledge of the future to cement your power base." He remembered himself. "Ma"am, forgive me for speaking this way-" way-"
"It"s all right, Admiral. Yes, you could put it like that. But it was necessary. After all there had been no unified government of mankind, none before me. Quite an achievement, don"t you think? Why, I had to invent a religion to do it ... It was necessary, all of it. I need the shelter of power. There are many obstacles to be overcome in the decades ahead, if I am to survive to the year of my birth."
"Ma"am-I thought I knew you."
"None of you knows me, none of you drones." She withdrew. "I tire now. Progress your war, Admiral. But we will speak again. Even if I fall, the Project must not fail. the Project must not fail. And I will entrust in you that purpose." And I will entrust in you that purpose."
He bowed to her. "Ma"am." And with huge relief he left the chamber, leaving the lonely woman and the light of the logic pool behind him.
AD 4820.
S-Day plus 9 Jupiter
The earthworm fleet was a.s.sembling here too, somewhere on the far side of the giant world. The showdown was still hours away, the Alphan planners believed.
Despite the urgency of the situation, despite all Flood"s urging and imprecations, every chance they got the crew of the Freestar Freestar stared out of their lifedome at Jupiter. After all there were no Jovians in Alpha system. stared out of their lifedome at Jupiter. After all there were no Jovians in Alpha system.
It was a bloated monster of a world, streaked with autumn brown and salmon pink. And, still more extraordinary, it was visibly wounded, immense storms like funnels digging deep into its surface. The other ships of the rebel fleet, the other five of their minuscule armada, drifted across the face of the giant world, angular silhouettes.
One other structure was visible in its own orbit, deep within the circle of the innermost moon, Io. It was an electric-blue spark, revealed under magnification to be a tangle of struts and tetrahedral frames. This was the Poole hub, where Michael Poole had used the energies of a flux tube connecting Jupiter to Io to construct the heart of his intrasystem wormhole network. Even today one of those ancient Interfaces linked Jupiter itself to Earth-or it had until the earthworms had cut it.
It was an extraordinary sight, Flood conceded. "Spectacle and history, all mixed up."
"Yes, dad," said Beya. "You know I"ve been reading up on Sol system history ... "
He did and he didn"t entirely approve; it struck him as a guilty reflex.
"You say this is all because of human action?"
"That"s the story," he said. "Though my grasp of ancient earthworm history is shaky."
Nine hundred years before, Jupiter had been wrecked by the actions of the Friends of Wigner, rebels from a dismal, alien-occupied future. The Friends had had in mind some grand, impossible scheme to alter history. Their plan had involved firing asteroid-ma.s.s black holes into Jupiter.
"Whatever these "Friends" intended, it didn"t work," Flood said. "All they succeeded in doing was wrecking Jupiter." He shook his head. "The greatest ma.s.s in Sol system after the sun itself, a vast resource for the future-ruined in a single action. How typical of earthworm arrogance!-"
Light sparked in the complex sky. Flood saw it reflected in his daughter"s face. He turned.
One of the rebel ships, the Destiny of Humankind, Destiny of Humankind, had exploded. The delicate spine was broken, the detached GUTdrive flaring pointlessly, and the fragile lifedome shattered, spilling particles of pink and green into s.p.a.ce. had exploded. The delicate spine was broken, the detached GUTdrive flaring pointlessly, and the fragile lifedome shattered, spilling particles of pink and green into s.p.a.ce.
Alarms howled. Virtual control desks appeared before Beya and Flood, crammed with data. The crew, sleepy, shocked, scrambled to get to their positions.
And then another ship detonated. The Future Hope, Future Hope, a ship five hundred years old, gone in a second. This time Flood glimpsed the missile that took it out. But there was no time to reflect. a ship five hundred years old, gone in a second. This time Flood glimpsed the missile that took it out. But there was no time to reflect.
"Incoming," Beya called. "Incoming!"
Flood worked at his desk with brisk sweeps of his fingers. "All right. We"re evading." The lifedome shuddered as the GUTdrive flared, shoving the Freestar Freestar sideways. sideways.
A missile streaked past the lifedome, close enough to see with the naked eye, glowing white-hot.
"s.h.i.t," Beya said. "How are they doing doing this? The scans showed a volume around us was clear." this? The scans showed a volume around us was clear."
"Jupiter," Flood said, reading his displays rapidly. "The missiles are coming out out of Jupiter. But the velocities are so high-I don"t understand." of Jupiter. But the velocities are so high-I don"t understand."
"The black holes," Beya said. "Maybe that"s it. They"re slingshotting their missiles off the central black holes. You can pick up a h.e.l.l of a lot of kinetic energy from an ergosphere."
"And they"re punching out of the carca.s.s of the planet, right at us. Incredible."
Another ship flared and died, a flower of light pointlessly beautiful.
"The Dream of Alpha," Dream of Alpha," Flood read. "That"s three of us gone in a few seconds. They"re picking us off. Three of us left, against a dozen Navy cruisers. We"ll have to withdraw. Regroup if we can-" Flood read. "That"s three of us gone in a few seconds. They"re picking us off. Three of us left, against a dozen Navy cruisers. We"ll have to withdraw. Regroup if we can-"
"No." Beya was working hard at her desk. "Dad, there"s no time for that. Tell the survivors to make for the Poole hub."
"Why? The wormhole links are severed; we can"t get away from there."
"It will give us a bit of cover. And I"ve an idea," she said, distant, working.
Flood frowned. He didn"t enjoy it when this determined side of his daughter showed itself; it made her seem too strong, too independent-he couldn"t protect her any more. But she had called the black-hole missile manoeuvre correctly. He saw no better option than to accept her recommendation. He snapped out the orders.
The Freestar"s Freestar"s GUTdrive kicked in. The acceleration mounted quickly, two, three, four gravities. Flood felt it in his bones, but he stood his ground, determined. Above his head, Jupiter slid with ponderous slowness across his field of view. "Come on," he said. "Come GUTdrive kicked in. The acceleration mounted quickly, two, three, four gravities. Flood felt it in his bones, but he stood his ground, determined. Above his head, Jupiter slid with ponderous slowness across his field of view. "Come on," he said. "Come on on ... " ... "
Elsewhere, aboard the bridge of the Navy ship Facula, Facula, there was much cheering at the downing of half the rebel fleet-premature cheering, as far as Stillich was concerned. there was much cheering at the downing of half the rebel fleet-premature cheering, as far as Stillich was concerned.
"Status," he yelled at Pella, above the noise.
"Three down, three to go."