Araminta-two gave him a tight nod, then spoke to the Skylord. "We are here. Please call to the nucleus; please urge it to bring us into your universe so we may achieve fulfillment."

"I have waited so long for this moment," the Skylord said.

"When we come, we need to be near the solid world where humans lived."

"There were several such worlds," the Skylord replied.

Inigo gave Araminta-two a shocked look as her concentration faltered briefly.

"s.h.i.t," Tomansio muttered.

"I thought there was only one," Oscar said out loud.

"There's more than one?" an incredulous Corrie-Lyn said. "How many were there?"

"It took Justine to Querencia," Aaron said urgently. "Be specific."

"What did she ask-" Araminta-two shook his head irritably and concentrated again. "The world we seek is the one where a member of our species is already waiting for us. She arrived recently. It has a city there, a city that did not arise within the Void."

"I know the world you seek," the Skylord replied.

"I hope it does," Troblum said. "Because it's starting."

"Will you be there?" Araminta-two asked. "I need you there to guide me. Without your help I will never reach fulfillment."

"I come," the Skylord promised.

Hysradar showed them the surface of the boundary expanding at hyperluminal speed, a great protrusion heading up directly for the starship. Just like the planetary FTL wormhole but on an unimaginably vast scale. They watched in silence as the smooth crown opened. Once again the glorious undulating nebula light shone out into the wretched desolation of the Gulf, casting a single beam of elegant luminosity across the Mellanie's Redemption Mellanie's Redemption.

The starship accelerated forward eagerly, pa.s.sing through the small aperture. Behind it, the boundary closed again, shutting off the pale light. The pinnacle sank down again, merging back into the featureless surface of infinite darkness.

"So where are we?" Aaron demanded. The starship's visual sensors were working perfectly, showing stars and nebulae all around. There was no sign of the boundary.

"Working on that," Troblum said. He was sweating profusely.

"Well, whadda you know," Tomansio said. A cup of tea was floating in midair, ten centimeters from his outstretched fingers. It lifted a little, then wiggled from side to side. He grinned wildly. His mind was radiating smugness and satisfaction for all of them to perceive.

"Oh, c.r.a.p," Corrie-Lyn exclaimed. Her mind shimmered rapidly in everyone's farsight, its surface l.u.s.ter dimming as she ponderously fought down the exuberant emotions, shielding them from psychic perception like a mother folding her arms protectively around a crying babe. Images and memories persisted in flashing out: Edeard scrambling to shield his own thoughts, the techniques he employed. After a short while the surface of her mind hardened to an impermeable screen from which nothing leaked, not a single emotion or memory or sensation.

There was a long minute while everyone struggled with the same technique with varying degrees of success. No one was surprised when the two Dreamers shielded themselves perfectly. But no matter how hard he tried, Oscar simply couldn't contain his ebullient thoughts; the best he could achieve was to tone them down a bit. "This group's Edeard," he said ruefully. "He could never protect himself fully. Personally, I see it as a sign of superiority to the lot of you."

Everyone allowed a glimmer of amus.e.m.e.nt to trickle out. Except Troblum. His shield was darker than most, and the thoughts below were convoluted. His emotions didn't match anything familiar.

Aaron was satisfied with his own protection, though the others were giving him curious looks. Their emotions were hurriedly wrapped away from perception. "What?" he asked. His longtalk matched his voice in intensity.

"It's like you're at war," Corrie-Lyn said. "Your thoughts are shining out, yet they make no sense because they have so many contrary facets. You are anger and conflict."

He gave her his old concessionary grin. "But I still function."

"So?" Tomansio asked, his inexorable curiosity infecting them all. "We're in the Void. What next?"

"Makkathran," Aaron said solemnly.

Tomansio let out a growl of frustration.

Araminta-two looked at something far beyond the cabin's bulkheads. "It's here," he said in wonder.

Aaron's farsight felt the Skylord approach, a benevolent concentration of thoughts that intimidated through sheer size. Somehow it seemed to negate worry, sharing satisfaction on a level that was impossible to refute.

"You are here," it told Araminta-two.

"Part of me. The rest will follow as I bring those who seek fulfillment."

"My kindred welcome you. They welcome those who are to join us here in the Void."

"Makkathran," Aaron whispered.

"Will you guide us to the world we spoke of before?"

"Yes."

Aaron instinctively reached out to grab hold of something and steady himself. Mellanie's Redemption Mellanie's Redemption was twisting around, gravity shifting in strange swelling motions. Exoimage relays from the fuselage cameras showed him the huge crystalline folds of the Skylord's body rotating spryly against the flexing ribbon of violet phosph.o.r.escence that was the Buluku nebula. Then the stars ahead were brightening as the Skylord executed its temporal acceleration function, and the starship was flashing toward the hot blue light points at close to lightspeed. Behind them, the Void shifted down to a dull carmine. was twisting around, gravity shifting in strange swelling motions. Exoimage relays from the fuselage cameras showed him the huge crystalline folds of the Skylord's body rotating spryly against the flexing ribbon of violet phosph.o.r.escence that was the Buluku nebula. Then the stars ahead were brightening as the Skylord executed its temporal acceleration function, and the starship was flashing toward the hot blue light points at close to lightspeed. Behind them, the Void shifted down to a dull carmine.

Araminta-two inhaled sharply, his hand pressing flat on his chest.

"What's wrong?" Oscar asked him.

"It's very weird, like I'm being torn in two. You seem fast, yet I'm not slow, or part of me is. The Pilgrimage fleet is hardly moving until I concentrate on it. Arrrgh. Ozzied.a.m.n, this is so strange."

"Temporal rate difference," Troblum said. "You are conscious on both sides of the Void boundary, which means you're living at two different speeds. It will be hard to reconcile."

"You'd better go into suspension," Tomansio said.

"No!"

The spike of alarm from Araminta-two's mind was enough to still them all.

"Sorry, but no," he said. "I-this body-has to live through this. If this me goes into suspension, that means it'll be just her left; I'll be out there all alone. If they come for me with those brain infiltrator things things, I won't have any refuge."

Tomansio nodded in understanding. "How far are we from Querencia?" he asked Troblum.

"We're heading for a star system about three light-months away," Troblum said. "I guess it's Querencia."

"Three months. Well, I suppose it's better than three years."

"Or thirty," Oscar said. He was leaking sympathy and concern.

Araminta-two fumbled for his hand. "Thank you, Oscar."

Now embarra.s.sment was added to the emotional blend he was betraying. "I think I'd better head straight back into suspension," Oscar said. "Who else?"

"Us as well," Tomansio said.

Inigo and Corrie-Lyn consulted on some unknown level. "We'll sleep it out," Inigo said. "There's nothing for me to do until we reach Makkathran. Is there?"

"No," Aaron confirmed. "How about you?" he asked Troblum.

"Me what?"

"Okay, then. That's myself, Araminta-two, and Troblum staying up for the rest of the flight."

"I'm sure you'll all be very happy together," Corrie-Lyn said. Her mental shield allowed no feeling to show through.

It didn't matter, Aaron knew how much she was laughing inside.

Everyone in the Commonwealth was desperate to know what the h.e.l.l that confrontation between Araminta and Ethan had been about. She was many? Like a multiple? But she wasn't. So was she referring to the other Dreamers? She claimed to be with Inigo. And why had he chosen now to release the Last Dream? Had Araminta asked him to?

n.o.body knew. And for all her apparent devotion to Living Dream, Araminta resolutely refused to enlighten her desperate followers back in the Commonwealth or her equally vociferous opponents. Strangely, Ethan gave nothing away, either.

So the Pilgrimage fleet flew on at fifty-six light-years an hour toward the Void for day after day with no change. It was apparent now that nothing could stop it apart from the warrior Raiel.

Or perhaps Justine and the Third Dreamer, some suggested. Gore certainly had some kind of idea. He, too, proved elusive.

They were odd days, those which marked the flight of the Pilgrimage fleet. The whole Commonwealth knew that if it was successful, that was the end of everything, that if they were lucky, the Heart would become aware of them and bring their stars and planets unharmed through the Void's boundary as it swept out to engulf the galaxy. Devoid of ANA's guidance, Higher worlds were turning their replicator systems to producing armadas of starships in preparation to flee the galaxy. On the Outer worlds, anyone lucky enough to own a starship was busy modifying it to make an intergalactic trip. The Greater Commonwealth government contingency was to have everyone update his or her secure memory store, which would then be carried by navy ships to whatever cl.u.s.ter of stars was selected to establish the New Commonwealth, a plan of action invoking the spirit of the New47 worlds of a millennium ago. Knowing your new self would be resurrected in an alien galaxy at some unknown time in the future wasn't quite as rea.s.suring as it should have been, not when that meant you'd have to watch your immediate doom smashing down out of the sky.

Odd days. And that was without the declaration of absolute war by the Ocisen Empire. Further threats of hostile action from eight of the sentient species the Commonwealth had contact with. Appeals for technological help and starships from another three races, including the Hancher.

Odd days confused even more when the High Angel High Angel reappeared back in Icalanise orbit and its human inhabitants started broadcasting their sojourn into a gas giant's atmosphere, complete with the brief conflict they'd witnessed through the smog, a conflict reappeared back in Icalanise orbit and its human inhabitants started broadcasting their sojourn into a gas giant's atmosphere, complete with the brief conflict they'd witnessed through the smog, a conflict High Angel High Angel refused to comment on. refused to comment on.

Odd days in which those who had instigated the crisis in the first place started to falter. The followers of Living Dream left behind began to question their commitment in the light of the Last Dream to such an extent that the preparation for the second Pilgrimage fleet was openly challenged. A great many argued that the new ships would be better used for fleeing the expanding boundary rather than seeking refuge within, where their ultimate future was now less than certain.

Days that made not the slightest difference to those on the Pilgrimage fleet. Hour after hour they continued to drop relay stations as they went, providing a straight electronic channel back to Ellezelin and the unisphere as well as stretching the gaiafield contact across the galaxy.

Araminta saw only the scattering of turquoise glimmer points flowing past on the other side of the observation deck. Hysradar revealed the crowded band of globular cl.u.s.ters that const.i.tuted the Wall growing closer and closer. Then came the definitive quantum signature of FTL ships approaching from the center of the galaxy. Over fifty of them. Even that didn't stir the Dreamer's cool composure as she led her followers onward to their promised destiny.

Unisphere access to the sensor feeds rose sharply as the entire Greater Commonwealth sought to witness the outcome. Gaiamotes were opened wide to receive Araminta's gifting.

The imagery and sensations ended without warning. Two hundred light-years behind the Pilgrimage fleet, eight relay stations failed simultaneously. n.o.body knew what was happening.

Paula did. She was sitting in Qatux's private chamber, watching a display similar to a holographic portal projection. The warrior Raiel had taken out Living Dream's relays; now the main attack force was converging on the twelve giant ships.

Over the next nine hours eighteen gas giants were obliterated, their dying ma.s.s converted to exotic energy. Some resulted in omnidirectional distortion waves slicing through hypers.p.a.ce. Others were subject to incredibly complex formatting architecture, producing coherent beams targeting specific Pilgrimage ships.

The Sol barrier force fields protecting the ships resisted every attack tactic, every weapon the warrior Raiel had. As well they might; they were the best it was possible to create. If anything, the Accelerators had improved the design they'd reverse engineered from the Dyson Alpha generator.

When the Pilgrimage fleet was halfway across the Gulf, the warrior Raiel withdrew, allowing it to continue unimpeded.

"I feel shame this day," Qatux said.

"I feel anger," Paula told him. She rubbed her hand across her face, unpleasantly weary from watching the aborted interception. "Did they find any trace of Ilanthe?"

"Regrettably not. If it is there, it is exceptionally well stealthed."

"c.r.a.p! We know the ship that picked it up was equipped with high-level stealth. But I never expected it to elude your warrior cla.s.s."

"Even if they had detected the ship, there would be nothing they could do about it. The force fields the Accelerators built were flawless."

"There's nothing else left, then?"

"Our warships are abandoning the Gulf where they have patrolled for these past million years. Now there is only one option remaining: the containment."

"What's that?"

Qatux waved one of his two large tentacles at the glowing images that floated across the chamber. "See. It begins."

Ever since their invasion armada had failed to defeat or even return from the Void, the Raiel had been preparing for what they regarded as the inevitable catastrophic expansion phase. The strategy was centered on the largest machines the Raiel ever constructed. Humans called them DF spheres, which they first encountered at Dyson Alpha generating the shield that imprisoned the entire Prime solar system. The second encounter was at Centurion Station, which indicated they had more than one function.

Once the Raiel had established their production facilities in a dozen star systems, the gas-giant-size spheres were distributed throughout the Wall. Over ten million of them had been made over the course of a hundred thousand years, of which only seven had ever been diverted to deal with other problems: Two were loaned to the Anomine, three loaned to species that faced similar difficulties, and two used to imprison stars that were going nova to protect nearby prestarflight civilizations that would have been eradicated by the radiation.

Now, courtesy of Qatux's status, Paula was observing the overview of their activation. During the Void's last brief expansion when Araminta had denied the Skylord, the DF spheres had all moved into a close orbit around the stars they were orbiting in preparation for their final phase. Now they began to exert colossal gravity fields, increasing the gravity gradient within their host stars, accelerating the fusion rate.

Throughout the Wall, supergiant stars started to brighten, chasing up through the spectrum to attain the blue-white pinnacle.

"Their raised power levels will be consumed by our defense systems to produce bands of dark force much like the force fields your Accelerators learned how to create," Qatux explained. "They will link up into a bracelet and ultimately expand into a sphere which englobes the entire Gulf."

"The containment," Paula murmured in amazement. The Raiel had conceived a true marvel, an endeavor that until today she'd have said could only possibly belong to a postphysical. It almost made her feel sorry for the Raiel; to have devoted their entire race to such a feat meant they had nothing else. Their commitment to overcome the Void had imprisoned them as surely as if they were inside it.

After a few hours the glittering band of stars circling the chamber was showing a filigree of black lines multiplying along its inner edge, slowly coalescing into a wide bracelet.

"Will it hold the Void?" she asked as she watched the slow progress of the lines.

"We don't know. We have never dared use it before. Our hope is that it can last long enough so the Void consumes all the ma.s.s left within the Gulf as it actualizes the reset dreams of everyone inside. Once its fuel is exhausted, it will collapse. If the Void is able to break through, the resultant surge may well be so fast as to overwhelm any starships seeking to leave the galaxy."

"So if it works, everyone inside the Void will die?"

"And the galaxy will live."

Justine Year Forty-five, Day Thirty-one JUSTINE WOKE AS DAWN sent gold-tinged sunlight streaming in through the bedroom's big window. She groaned at the intrusion and rolled over in her sleeping bag. Underneath her, the spongy mattress rippled gently with the motion. Edeard had gotten that particular piece of furniture absolutely perfect, she thought drowsily. The thick beam of sunlight slid slowly across the floor, advancing inexorably toward her. She watched its progress idly, knowing she ought to be getting up. But early rising had never been her strongest personality trait. Those first thirty years living the East Coast party scene had established a habit that nearly a thousand subsequent years spent living in a meat body had never quite managed to break.

Eventually she unzipped the sleeping bag and stretched, yawning widely before finally rolling off the bed. It was a large bed, fusing seamlessly into the floor. But then it was a large bedroom, as was appropriate for the master and mistress of Sampalok.

Justine padded barefoot across the floor to the panoramic window and looked down on the district's central square. The expanse was remarkably clean, something she'd noticed throughout her exploration of the city. Dirt and leaves certainly had started to pile up along the edges of buildings and in various clefts and narrow gaps, but it never got to the stage where weeds would take root. She supposed the city absorbed any large acc.u.mulation of muck. Back in Edeard's time it was teams of genistar chimps that had cleaned up the rubbish produced by the human inhabitants.

As she watched the small fountains playing, she could see several animals slinking about around the edges of the square as they began their day's foraging or hunting. She'd been right about the dogs; there were several nasty packs thriving in Makkathran. Native animals were nesting in the empty buildings. The city seemed to tolerate them.