Текст книги "The Abyss Beyond Dreams"

Автор книги: Peter F. Hamilton

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Текущая страница: 41 (всего у книги 44 страниц)

There weren’t many cell members in Willesden. The ones that had been given duties had been redeployed days ago to find out what had happened to their comrades assigned to blow up the bridges. Bethaneve had summoned several to the riverbank area to help search, but they were slow coming.

She and Javier disembarked from the ferry as the sun hung close to the horizon, looking as if it was about to plunge into the river. Long rose-gold shimmers licked across the water, tinting the air a faint copper. They looked around in dismay. The chaos here was almost as bad as what they’d left behind them on the quayside, only the scale was reduced.

‘Any ideas?’ Bethaneve asked.

‘Well, now that the Goleford bridge is down, he’ll have to find himself either a boat or a horse.’

‘Can he ride?’

‘I’ve no idea. I’ve never seen him ride, but that doesn’t mean anything.’ Javier could feel his stomach tightening up at that admission. What do I really know about him? I thought it was everything.

‘I’ve not seen him ride, either,’ Bethaneve said. ‘And if he can, we’re not going to find him. So that leaves us with a boat.’

They looked along the river. On this side, it was mainly ferries and small boats that had just charged an extortionate fee for bringing desperate people over. There were only two big ocean-going cargo ships, their sails all furled. Both had big crowds of people at their gangplanks, all bidding against each other.

‘They’re not going to leave tonight,’ Bethaneve decided. There were a few other boats, barges mainly, but their captains seemed intent on making a fortune charging passage across the Colbal. She scanned the houses of Willesden again. The land here didn’t rise as it did on the Varlan side, but even so, it wasn’t possible to see the countryside beyond. She narrowed her eyes as she tried to read the signposts at the top of each road leading away from the river.

‘If he just wanted to get out of town,’ she said slowly, thinking it through, ‘he could have taken a cab, or used one of the local lines we didn’t sabotage. So he came south of the river for a reason. He’s got a very definite destination in mind.’

‘Yes. But what?’

‘The last thing Yannrith said was that Kysandra was in a convoy on Walton Boulevard heading down the hill. That’s south.’

‘You think they came over the river as well?’

‘And not long after that, the Goleford bridge was blown.’

‘But Coulan was in the National Council building when that happened,’ Javier insisted.

‘Yes. So he’s stuck here as well, unless . . . You’re in charge of the railways now, right?’

‘Well, sort of, yes.’

‘Did you get around to nationalizing the Southern City Line?’

‘Yes. My people came across to take over the management offices yesterday. I was going to visit soon.’

‘They only blew up the Goleford bridge,’ Bethaneve said. ‘We planned on taking out three south of the river. Can you ’path your people, find out what other rail lines there are out of town?’

‘That I can do.’

The answer came back within a minute.

‘There are two local line stations,’ Javier said, his eyes closed as he received the ’path. ‘Balcome and Scotdale. Their lines go east and west.’

‘Right, now find out if either of those lines cross the Goleford. Do they link up with the main line south of here?’

Javier’s weary face broke into a slow smile. ‘Uracus, you’re good. The line from Balcome splits fifty miles out, and one track goes south. It reconnects with the main southern line at Fosbury.’

‘Next train?’ Bethaneve asked.

‘Twenty-three minutes.’

*

Balcome station was small: two platforms, both with prim wooden canopies, and a stone ticket office. A typical branch-line station in a pleasant part of town. Thick vines with topaz flowers scrambled up the outside wall of the ticket office, layering the air with a sweet scent. There was nobody in the ticket office when Bethaneve and Javier walked in; thick shutters were down across the booth. The platform was a different matter. In the deepening shadow thrown by the canopy, people were packed five or six deep along its whole length, families clinging together, children all cried out and now just staring numbly down the tracks. Those nearest the ticket office door gave Javier a fearful look as he emerged. He’d not given it any thought, but his carbine was slung on a strap over his drosilk jacket’s shoulder, and four magazines were clipped to his belt. Carrying it openly was second nature now, every comrade’s badge of honour. The carbines Nigel supplied were quite distinctive; they had a high fire rate and hardly ever jammed. By now they were recognizable to everybody in Varlan.

The gifted image of Javier spread down the platform faster than sound. It triggered a surge of anxiety and distress. Children clung to their parents; men glared defiantly.

Bethaneve’s hand went automatically to the pistol holstered on her belt. She was dismayed by the way people were reacting to her and Javier, but anger burnt there, too. We’re the good guys. Why don’t you understand that? We’re trying to help, to give you a better future.

‘What do you want?’ someone ’pathed.

‘Can’t you leave us alone?’

‘Haven’t you killed enough of us?’

‘Savages.’

‘They murdered my brother. He was a sheriff, he protected us from criminals.’

‘I recognize her. She’s Slvasta’s fiancée.’

‘Bitch.’

People were backing away from them, leaving them alone in the centre of a deluge of hatred.

‘We’re not here to hurt you,’ Bethaneve ’pathed. ‘We’re looking for someone.’ She gifted an image of Coulan. ‘Has anyone seen him?’

‘No!’

‘What did he ever do?’

‘Gave people jobs, most likely.’

‘Are you going to murder him, as well?’

‘Please,’ Bethaneve ’pathed. ‘He’s a friend.’

‘Yeah, right.’

‘Lying whore.’

Teekay stabbed out. Bethaneve’s shell was tight; otherwise the spike of psychic power would have jabbed into her eyes. As it was, she stumbled backwards from the blow.

‘Hey!’ Javier yelled. He lifted up the carbine. ‘Pack that in. We’re here on official business.’

‘You’re not my government, crudhead.’

‘Who voted for you?’

Somewhere in the distance, a train whistle sounded.

Several teekay blows slapped at Javier. He rocked about, then flicked the safety catch off. ‘Draw your pistol,’ he private ’pathed Bethaneve. ‘This might get nasty.’

Reluctantly, she did as he advised.

‘Going to shoot us for objecting?’

‘So we’re not allowed opinions any more?’

Javier pointed his carbine into the air and fired off two shots. Children screamed. Everybody cowered. They backed away further.

‘I’m going to politely ask you one last time,’ Javier said. ‘Has anyone seen this man?’ He ’pathed out the image of Coulan as hard as he could.

Bethaneve stared round at the faces, disturbed by the naked outpouring of loathing. Vile images were starting to flicker through the general psychic torrent, images of her being abused, graphic fantasies of Javier being kicked, punched, beaten, a noose round his neck. She gripped the pistol tighter, wondering how everything had turned so wrong so quickly.

The train whistle sounded again, louder this time.

Then amid all the hostility, a few glimmers of smugness appeared. She saw nearby faces beginning to smile haughtily. People directed their gaze behind her. Silence spread out so fast she thought she’d lost her hearing.

‘Please don’t move, my loves.’ The ’path was so kind, so sincere, it resonated right into the centre of her mind as if she had no shell at all. She was so thrilled to perceive it; she did exactly what it asked.

Coulan walked between her and Javier. Her heart began to beat faster at the sight of him; the relief that he was all right was profound. She smiled in welcome.

He smiled back, which made her want to fling her arms round him in happiness. But he had asked her not to move, so she didn’t.

‘I don’t want you to worry about me,’ he said as the train started to ease into the station. ‘Everything is going to be just fine, I promise. Now I have to go away for a week or so, then I’ll be back, and it will be a whole new life for everyone on Bienvenido. You’ll see.’

Bethaneve sighed in delight. He was okay, and the world was going to be all right now.

The engine rolled past, pistons hammering away, gusts of steam shooting out horizontally from valves to swirl across the platform, thick smoke puffing from the stack. It pulled five carriages along behind it.

‘Everybody,’ Coulan said, and raised both arms in universal appeal, ‘the train is here. Let’s get on board, shall we? No need for any unpleasantness. These well-meaning people aren’t going to hurt anybody.’

Bethaneve could see Javier standing beside her, his face sculpted into a mask of despondent longing.

Then the crowd was pouring into the carriages. Bethaneve didn’t mind. Coulan was all right; nothing else mattered. And she was helping him enormously by just staying still.

Coulan gave Javier a small lopsided grin. ‘I’ll see you soon,’ he promised, and kissed Javier gently. Turned and began walking towards the train.

The carbine’s roar was as loud as it was shockingly unexpected. It broke Bethaneve’s trance, and she flung herself down, screaming as she jammed her hands over her ears. Right in front of her, not four metres away, Coulan’s buttocks and lower torso disintegrated into a mass of tattered flesh and an expanding blood spume. His abdomen exploded outwards, tendrils of gore thrashing through the ripped shirt. The body collapsed onto the platform, pitching over so his head was facing up. Dying eyes stared peacefully at the twilight sky, then closed.

Bethaneve seemed to be deaf. Her eyesight contracted into a long grey tunnel with Coulan’s corpse blocking the far end. That was all there was.

Sound forced its way back into her consciousness. Screams, so many screams, and so loud that her shock couldn’t deny them any more. Her own voice was one of them. He was dead, her old love, her saviour. Dead. Cut down by—

Bethaneve jerked round. Slvasta was standing just outside the ticket office door, Tovakar and Yannrith and Andricea clustered behind him, more armed comrades in the background. Slvasta ejected the magazine clip from his still-smoking carbine, and his teekay jammed in a replacement.

‘What have you done?’ Bethaneve wailed.

Javier charged past her, his face contorted with rage, arms outstretched as he reached for Slvasta, roaring in demented fury. Andricea stepped forward, caught Javier’s wrist. There was some kind of lithe twisting motion as she shifted her weight round, thrust with her teekay, bent sideways – and Javier’s entire bulky form was somehow flying through the air. He crashed to the ground with a hefty thud, winding him. Tovakar was immediately beside him, pistol pressed against his temple. ‘Don’t!’ he warned.

Slvasta came over to stand beside Bethaneve, looking down at her, his features completely blank. ‘Why didn’t you move? Why didn’t you stop him? You followed him here, you wanted to talk to him just as badly as I did. Why didn’t you ask him something? Anything?’

She shook her head. ‘I couldn’t. He . . . he told me not to and I couldn’t.’ She wiped at the tears on her cheeks. ‘I knew I should, I just didn’t want to. What did he do to me?’ she whimpered in panic. ‘Who is he?’

‘I don’t know.’ Slvasta held his hand out to her.

After a second’s hesitation, she reached up and took it. He helped her to her feet. She stood, wobbling about slightly, then risked a glance at the corpse. There was so much blood, all of it a rich crimson, spreading out obscenely across the platform.

Slvasta turned to Javier. ‘It wasn’t human,’ he said. ‘Do you understand? This is a new kind of Faller, him and Nigel.’

A frightened Javier stared up mutely.

There was something very wrong about Coulan’s corpse. Bethaneve couldn’t quite work out what, but instinct was shrieking a warning directly out of her subconscious. Was it his soul, was she perceiving that? She extended her ex-sight to the air above the body. ‘Slvasta!’ She stumbled back a pace, pressing herself into Slvasta’s side.

‘What?’

‘He’s still got a shell round his thoughts.’

‘Huh?’

Everyone swung round to look at Coulan. Yannrith and Tovakar lined their carbines up, as did most of Slvasta’s bodyguard troop.

‘His crudding shell,’ Bethaneve yelped. ‘It’s still there!’

Slvasta edged closer.

Coulan’s eyes snapped open.

Bethaneve’s mouth parted wide; an involuntary reflex drew air down her throat in a groan.

‘That was an excellent fuzz,’ Coulan ’pathed. ‘As good as my concealment effect. I never perceived you coming. Well done.’

‘Faller!’ snarled Slvasta. He took a step forward and jammed his carbine muzzle onto the bridge of Coulan’s nose.

‘Not at all,’ Coulan continued calmly.

‘Then what the crud . . . ?’

‘This life is over. For all of you. We’re going to take you back into the real universe. Put down your guns. Forget your conflict. Everything is about to change.’

‘What are you?’ Slvasta bellowed.

‘I am a machine, a living machine.’

‘You can’t be!’

A man walked over to them. Bethaneve thought she was too numb from everything that had happened to feel anything, but the sight of him made her moan in dismay.

‘What do you want with my family’s quantumbusters?’ Captain Philious demanded.

‘They will be used to liberate you.’ Coulan closed his eyes. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I must shut down now. My reserve energy levels can’t sustain me for much longer, and I have an autonomic destruct sequence – just in case. Please stand back, I don’t want anyone to get hurt.’

‘Did you ever love me?’ Javier sobbed.

‘My dearest Javier, don’t be sad. I am bringing you all back to reality. That is the greatest love of all. I give it to you freely.’

The skin on Coulan’s pale face started to blacken. Slvasta winced and pulled the carbine away, took a couple of hasty steps back. Coulan’s head, torso and legs burst into flames. They began to burn inwards fiercely, throwing off a great heat. Bethaneve clung to Slvasta, watching aghast as the thing she had once loved charred down to a mound of ash in less than three minutes. She sank to her knees and threw up, too distraught to think straight any more. Nothing made sense. All of this was unreal. It couldn’t be happening, it just couldn’t.

‘What do we do now, captain?’ she heard Yannrith asking.

‘He said: we,’ Slvasta growled. ‘We are liberating you. There’s more of them loose on our world. And I know where their nest is. So we stop them. Then we kill them. That is liberation.’

5

‘These are in worse condition than I thought,’ Nigel said as the express train rattled its way southwards through the night. They were charging through the scheduled stations; the only stops they did make were to take on fresh coal and water for the engine.

The quantumbusters were riding in one of the passenger carriages that’d been fitted out as a basic machine shop. Kysandra had been moderately impressed by the weapons, even though she’d already seen the images from the drone in the palace cellar. The wasp-waist cylinders were over two metres long, and heavy with it, as if they were carved from solid metal. Lifting them had taken a lot of muscle and teekay. Once they were in place, a simple sweep of teekay banished the dust and grime to reveal dull grey casings in good condition. The warheads were nestled at the back of the bulbous head, which her ex-sight could just perceive through the high-density casing and thick-packed components. But she felt that the rear end with the ingrav drive’s weird warty protuberances looked more sinister.

Nigel, Fergus and Valeri were scanning the quantumbusters with ex-sight and various sensor modules. Little access hatches of malmetal were being powered up and opened, so more sophisticated tests could be run directly on the components inside.

‘We don’t need the drive systems, or any of that junk,’ Fergus said. ‘Nor the force fields. Just the warheads.’

‘Warhead,’ Valeri corrected.

‘Can you get one of them to work?’ Kysandra asked.

Nigel looked up from the quantumbuster he was examining. A crown of modules was trailing wires and fibre-optic strands into the open ports and hatches. Spherical power cells on the floor had been plugged in to various sections with heavy-duty cable.

‘I think so. There’s been secondary system component degradation, of course, but then we knew we’d have to deal with that. The systems Skylady has synthesized should be adequate to initiate the warhead. We’ll start a rebuild as soon as we get home. But the real trick is going to be modifying the effect itself. I won’t be able to determine the final program until I’m inside the Forest; once I’m there, I can run an accurate analysis on its quantum distortion field signature.’

‘And, as the old quote goes: what science can analyse, science can duplicate,’ Fergus said.

‘Let’s hope so,’ Nigel muttered. ‘Or we’re going to need a bigger boat.’

Kysandra nodded apprehensively. ‘Okay.’

Nigel looked up for a moment and winked at her. ‘Don’t worry, it’s all worked out so far, hasn’t it?’

She grinned despairingly. ‘Oh, yes. But that’s only because you know everything.’

‘One more week,’ he promised. ‘Maybe less.’

‘Really? How long to rebuild the warhead?’

‘I’m thinking a day, maybe two at the most. Some of that can be done en route.’

‘So all we really have to do is launch?’

‘Yeah. Marek should have the booster stack assembled by now.’

‘So will you land again before you detonate the quantumbuster? That’ll be safer than being in space. Won’t it?’

The two ANAdroids became very still. Nigel’s gaze remained steady. His lopsided smile was no longer teasing. ‘Kysandra,’ he began awkwardly, ‘I need to be there in case anything goes wrong.’

‘There? There where?’

‘I’ve got to see this through. I’m sorry, I thought you understood that.’

‘No! No, you can’t,’ she cried. ‘Send one of the ANAdroids. They can do it.’

‘They can, if nothing goes wrong. Possibly if something does go wrong, too. But I can’t take that chance; there’s too much at stake here. A whole world of people, Kysandra. If there’s something unexpected up there, if we have to change the mission for whatever reason, I’ll need to innovate.’

‘But . . . But, they can do that!’ She was mortified that her throat was tightening up, tears building behind her eyes. Any moment now, if this conversation continued, she might burst out crying.

‘They can do a great deal, including work through logical options. Their bioprocessor brains are the best we can make. But if we need a non-logical solution – that’s where I come in. I can’t leave it to chance, Kysandra. It has to be me in the Skylady.’

‘No!’

‘If I can remote detonate, then I will. Of course I will. But we have to be prepared, and certain.’

‘You’ll die. It’ll be permanent. If the quantumbuster rips the Void apart, there will be no Giu left to reach, no Heart to accept your soul.’ She heard what she was saying and hated it; her old ingrained belief hadn’t been eradicated by the knowledge he’d given her so freely, just suppressed. I am rational, really I am. It’s just . . .

Nigel walked over to her and put his arms round her, exactly the way he had at their wedding ceremony. This time he stroked her back instead of patting it. ‘I won’t die,’ he said quietly. ‘I haven’t told you this before, I didn’t want you upset or confused, but this body, it’s actually a clone loaded with my memories and personality. The original me is still out there, Kysandra. Right now, I’m also alive in the real universe. I’m out there. Waiting.’

‘What? You can’t be.’

‘I am. True.’

‘You mean you’re not really you?’

‘Of course I am,’ he chortled. ‘But you know my ego: I’m far too important to actually die, so I sent this me into the Void to do my own dirty work. I never expected to make it back, although I never expected the mission would be like this, either. Kysandra, I never expected to meet you. Strange, the things fate throws at us.’

She nodded, not trusting herself to say anything.

‘We’ll meet again someday, somewhere,’ Nigel said. ‘I promise you that. And it will be the happiest day I’ve had for a thousand years, because I’ll get to see you live as you deserve to. That’s what this is about, that’s why this version of me exists. Let me fulfil my destiny, so I can watch you achieve yours.’

‘I don’t want another you. I want this one.’

‘The other one is the original, the best. You’ll see. Just don’t ever tell him I said that, okay? Keep it between us.’

‘Do you always have to be right?’

‘It’s what I am.’

‘I want to be right, too, just for once.’

‘That’s my girl.’

*

They changed tracks at Fosbury, switching the branch-line train onto the main Southern City Line. Nobody challenged Slvasta’s bodyguard troops as the comrades swarmed into the signal box to pull the big iron levers which moved the points over, even though the revolution hadn’t even been acknowledged this far from Varlan. Bethaneve curled up on one of the long bench seats and fell asleep as the carriage rocked about.

Javier woke her as dawn was breaking. A pale gold light was streaming in through the windows facing east. The only nebula left in the sky was Uracus itself – a venomous russet mist, twined with topaz fronds as if the interstellar dust storms were two kinds of giant space weed writhing round each other. For some reason, the empty gulf along its centre seemed larger today. Below it, fog lay across the land, meandering through the hollows like a lake of sluggish oil, with trees and the roofs of farm buildings poking through. Hills rumpled the horizon.

‘Where are we?’ she asked. Every limb ached from the cramped bench as she stretched laboriously. But – thank Giu – the worst of the exhaustion had left her.

‘Five hours out from Dios,’ Javier said. ‘Apparently we just passed through a place called Normanton.’

‘No idea where that is.’ She massaged the base of her neck, which was badly kinked from being pressed up against the armrest. ‘You know I’ve never been out of the city before?’

‘I lived in Sigen for a couple of years, but that’s all.’

She glanced down the carriage. Most of the bodyguard troops seemed to be sleeping, but those who were awake were vigilant. Slvasta was sitting on a bench at the far end, flanked by Andricea and Yannrith. Bethaneve did her best to keep a scowl from her face.

‘She can’t replace you,’ he said softly.

‘He probably thinks I’m a . . . Oh, crud, Javier, what in Uracus was Coulan?’

‘I don’t know,’ he said, shell hardening to veil his emotions. ‘But not a Faller, that’s for sure.’

She lowered her voice. ‘He said he was a machine. He wasn’t human, not proper human.’

‘He cared about us, that’s all I know. Whatever he was doing, it’s bigger than the revolution. A lot bigger.’

‘“Take you back into the real universe”, that’s what he said. What in Giu’s name did he mean?’

‘I’ve no idea. I guess he must have been talking about the universe outside the Void, the one Captain Cornelius came from.’

‘But . . . going back there? That’s crazy.’

‘I know. But he certainly wasn’t like you and me, anyway. I’ve been thinking about that. I believe he was a better kind of human. That he came to the Void to help us.’

‘You could be right,’ she said hurriedly. ‘He was better.’ She could see how badly he was suffering.

‘So, it’s not impossible, is it? Not completely?’

‘Maybe not. I wonder if Nigel is a part of whatever they’re planning?’

‘I suppose so.’

Bethaneve looked down the carriage again, still perturbed to see Captain Philious sitting opposite Slvasta. ‘Did Slvasta sleep?’

‘Yes. He woke up a few minutes ago. That’s why I got you up.’

‘Good. If he slept, he will have calmed down. We can try and talk some sense into him.’

‘He won’t listen to me. Not after yesterday. Coulan and I were together. I can’t be trusted. It’s got to be you.’

She put her hand on top of his. ‘He fooled everybody.’

‘Maybe I wanted to be fooled. He was . . . perfection.’

‘I know. I remember. So perfect I wasn’t even jealous when he left me for you. I was just glad he was happy. Can you imagine that?’

‘I don’t know,’ he said in a shaky voice. ‘It just hurts.’

She squeezed his hand. ‘I’ll go talk to Slvasta.’

Andricea eyed her warily as she walked down the aisle between the benches. There was clearly a private ’path exchange between her and Slvasta. She got up and gave Bethaneve a neutral smile. ‘I’ll go and see if there’s anything to eat. There’s got to be some tea, at least.’

‘Thanks.’ Bethaneve looked down expectantly at Slvasta.

When he returned her gaze he was actually sheepish. ‘Please,’ he said, and half stood.

She sat beside him, and couldn’t quite bring herself to look at the Captain sitting on the bench opposite.

‘I’m sorry about yesterday,’ he said. ‘I said things I just didn’t mean. Forgive me.’

She leaned forward and gave him a soft kiss. ‘We were all under a lot of stress, and Ingmar didn’t help.’

‘Crudding right!’ He exhaled loudly. ‘I didn’t understand what was happening.’

‘And do you now?’

‘Not really.’

‘So what are we doing?’

‘Stopping them. I know where Nigel lives. I’ve been to his nest.’

‘Who is them, my love?’

‘The Fallers.’

‘I’m not sure Coulan was a Faller. He said he was a machine.’

‘He controlled us,’ Slvasta said. ‘Humans and other Fallers; the one from Eynsham Square had something odd in its brain, Captain Philious told me. So he controlled us without us even knowing. Controlled us as if we were his mods, all running round doing what he wanted. Thinking it was what we wanted.’

She stared across at Captain Philious. ‘I still want justice and democracy for everyone. I wanted that before I met him. That will never change.’

‘Whereas all he wanted were the quantumbusters from my palace,’ the Captain said.

‘I don’t know what they are.’

‘A bomb. A bomb my ancestor brought with him to the Void, rightly or wrongly. A bomb powerful enough to blow up Bienvenido itself. How does that bring anyone justice?’

‘Do you think he was a Faller?’

‘I don’t see what else he could have been. Maybe one of their ruling class. Their equivalent to me.’

She shook her head. ‘If there are Fallers like that, then we would all have Fallen a thousand years ago. Coulan and Nigel, they’re different.’

‘They want to destroy us. How is that different?’

Bethaneve tipped her head back, resting it on the thin cushioning. It was no use; she knew Slvasta could never be argued round when it came to Fallers. She suspected the Captain was playing him, exploiting his weakness to gain advantage.

Uracus, am I paranoid? If I protest, if I argue against this now, Slvasta will never trust me again. I have to stay with him, to help him before he is ruined by this. If he Falls, so does the revolution.

‘I don’t suppose it is,’ she said. ‘So what’s the plan?’

*

It was still dark when the express arrived at the outskirts of Dios, with just a hint of dawn’s coronal blaze in the eastern sky. The delicate gossamer nebulas were retreating back into night, shying away from the sunlight. The big engine came to a halt amid bursts of steam and a drawn-out clanking of brakes, ending with the pistons reversing and spinning the wheels backwards. Two hundred metres ahead, the pale orange lights of the main station signal box shone weakly down onto the maze of tracks. Inside the box, the signalman obediently pulled several long levers, changing the points. Madeline removed her carbine’s muzzle from his crotch.

‘Branch line is open,’ she ’pathed to the express.

It began to move forward again, switching across tracks until it was heading down the line to Erond. Once it was clear of the junction, it began to pick up speed again.

Three and a half hours later, with the sun now well above the horizon, it slipped into the small marshalling yard at the side of Erond’s station. Merchants and wholesalers who were waiting for their morning deliveries watched the unscheduled arrival with interest. They didn’t get too close, though; Russell and others from Ma’s organization were standing round in their long drosilk coats, carbines held prominently, making sure there was plenty of space for the two steam cars to back up to the carriage.

Kysandra followed Nigel out of the carriage. The fresh morning air was tainted with the smell of coal smoke and hot oil. She perceived a lot of ex-sight gliding over her and the cars, mainly from all the merchants. But there were no curious sheriffs, no authorities. Nigel had infiltrated the county administration very effectively.

Marek was in charge of the yard crew and quickly orchestrated everyone to create a strong shell around the carriage carrying the quantumbusters. Inside its protective shroud, the warheads were loaded onto trailers towed by the steam cars. Once they were secured, Marek’s people mounted up on horses, and the cars drove out of the yard.

Within twenty minutes, the cavalcade had driven through the outskirts and reached the new river road to Adeone. With a screech of fast-moving metal, the steam cars started to accelerate.

*

Slvasta’s train pulled in at Dios station just before midday. The station manager himself came out onto the platform to meet the second unscheduled train of the morning. His indignation was exuded as a badge of authority, but it began to falter as his ex-sight picked up the three armed men in the engine’s cab along with the driver and fireman. Strangely, there were no mod-dwarfs to help shovel coal.

What was left of his bluster vanished altogether as the bodyguard troop began to pile out of the first carriage. Dios knew all about the carbines which the revolutionaries used. Then Slvasta himself came striding down the platform, the self-proclaimed prime minister of the new People’s Interim Congress. Fright began to leak out of the station manager’s mind. If Slvasta was here, Dios was going to suffer as Varlan had. Fear gave way to outright astonishment as he saw Captain Philious walking beside Slvasta.

Hundreds of local people were absorbing the station manager’s involuntary gifting as Slvasta came up to him. ‘Did the express from Varlan stop here?’

‘Uh, no, not really, sir. Sirs! It switched to the Erond line. My signalman was forced to open the points for them. He had to; she held a gun to his head.’