The Night's Dawn Trilogy (512 page)

Louise shrank away from him, crabbing across the floor until she was backed up against the altar. “You can do all that, you
can hurt me until I denounce everything I believe in. But you will never change what I am right now. And that’s all that matters.
I’m true to me. I’ve already had my victory.”

“Dumbass bitch. That’s why you and your false Lord will always lose. Your victory’s in your head. Mine is physical. It’s as
motherfucking real as you can get.”

Louise looked defiantly at Quinn. “When evil rules, then it will be goodness which corrupts you.”

“Total bollocks. The likes of you won’t be able to corrupt the army I’m bringing onto the field. Tell her Fletcher, be
honest
with her. Is my army going to win? Is the Night coming?”

“Fletcher?” she appealed.

“My lady… I…” His head drooped in abject despair.

“No,” Louise gasped. “Fletcher!”

Quinn watched her, grinning in ferocious satisfaction. “Ready to watch the bad part, now?” He reached down, and grabbed her
shoulder, hauling her to her feet.

“Unhand her,” Fletcher demanded. A ball of solid air slammed into his belly, its impact firing pain down every nerve in his
host body. He was thrown off the ground and sent tumbling backwards. Even when he landed hard on the tiles he kept skidding
as if the surface was ice. When he stopped moving and regained his wits, he found he was directly under the apex of the dome.

“Don’t move,” Quinn ordered.

A pentagon of tall white flames burst into existence around Fletcher to emphasise the point. He watched helplessly as Quinn
dragged Louise along into the south transept. They went through a door.

There were stairs inside, spiralling upwards. Louise had to run to keep up with Quinn. The curving stairs went on and on,
making her feel dangerously dizzy; and the pain from the side of her head was so intense she thought she was going to vomit.

They came out through a narrow archway onto the gallery ringing the dome. Quinn moved round it until he was facing down the
nave. He thrust Louise towards a young girl in a leather waistcoat and pink jeans.

“Look after her,” he said.

At first Louise thought Courtney was a possessed; her hair was bright emerald, all of it standing on end and twirled into
flame-like spikes. But there were scabs all over her cheeks and arms, unhealed and starting to fester; one eye was swollen
almost shut.

Courtney giggled as she held Louise tight. “I get you first.” Her tongue licked round Louise’s ear, hands closing tight on
her buttocks.

Louise moaned as her legs gave out.

“Shit.” Courtney pushed her back onto the low bench which ran around the gallery.

“We won’t live long enough for that,” Louise said harshly.

Courtney gave her a puzzled look.

Quinn put his hands on the rail and looked down on his silent obedient followers packed into the nave. Fletcher Christian
stood still at the centre of the flaming pentagram, head bent back so he could observe the gallery. Quinn gestured and the
prison of white flames vanished, leaving Fletcher alone on the floor.

“Before the Night dawns, there’s one person missing from our gathering,” Quinn announced. “Though I know he’s here. You’re
always here, aren’t you?” The silken tone of displeasure made his followers stir uneasily.

Quinn signalled the acolyte on the gallery, who led Greta round to him. She was pushed hard against the rail, almost going
over. Quinn grabbed her by the scruff of her neck, tipping her head upright. Lank hair dangled down over her face as she drew
a shaky breath.

“Say your name,” Quinn told her.

“Greta,” she mumbled.

He took the anti-memory weapon from his robe and shoved it against her eye. “Louder.”

“Greta. I’m Greta Manani.”

“Oh Daddy,” Quinn called out. “Daddy Manani, come out, come out wherever you are.”

The possessed crowded into the nave began to look round. Murmurs of confusion seeped out among them. Quinn scoured their heads
for someone moving.

“Get out here, fuckhead! RIGHT NOW. Or I kill her soul. You hearing me?”

The sound of lone footsteps echoed through the cathedral. The hushed possessed parted in a smooth tide to allow Powel Manani
through. The Ivet supervisor looked exactly the same as the last time Quinn had seen him back on Lalonde, a brawny man dressed
in a red and green checked shirt. He walked out under the dome, put his hands on his hips and grinned up at Quinn. “I see
you’re still a total loser, Ivet.”

“I’m not a fucking Ivet!” Quinn screamed. “I’m the Messiah of Night.”

“Whatever. If you harm my daughter, Messiah of dickheads everywhere, I’ll personally finish the job Twelve-T started on Jesup.”

“I have been harming her. For a long time now.”

“Bet it isn’t as bad as what we did to your friends Leslie and Kay, and all the other Ivets we caught.”

For a second Quinn contemplated vaulting over the rail and swooping down on the supervisor, feeding his serpent beast. The
peak of rage subsided. That was what Manani probably wanted. Quinn could sense how strong the man’s energistic power was.
Using him as the sacrifice to the summoned dark angles was going to be much more satisfying.

“If you kill her,” Powel said, “you have no protection from me. And if you blast this body to pieces, I’ll just come back
again like before. I’m going to keep on coming back until this is settled between us.”

“I’m not going to blast you out of your body, not after the grief you’ve caused me. I’m not that nice, remember. Now you stay
exactly where you are, or I will kill your daughter’s soul.”

Powel looked round the empty expanse of floor under the dome as if he was viewing an apartment. “Guess you’re on his shit
list too, huh,” he said to Fletcher.

“I am, sir.”

“Don’t worry, he’ll make a mistake. He’s not smart enough to pull off something like this. And when it all goes pear-shaped,
his balls are mine.”

Quinn spread his arms wide in an open embrace to the assembled possessed below. “Now that everyone’s here,” he said, “we’ll
begin.”

______

Joshua managed to suppresses his shock without any help from programs. He knew the importance of this moment was too great
for anything other than perfect clarity. “Are you the Tyrathca’s Sleeping God?” he datavised.

“You know I am, Captain Calvert,” the singularity replied.

“If you know who I am, then the Tyrathca were correct saying that you see the universe.”

“The universe is too large for that, of course, but to reply in context, yes, I observe as much of the universe as you are
aware of, and a great deal more besides. My quantum structure enables an extensive interconnection with a large volume of
space-time and other realms.”

“Not one for small talk, is it,” Liol muttered.

“Then you know my species is being possessed by the souls of our own dead?” Joshua asked.

“Yes.”

“Is there a solution to this problem?”

“There are a great many solutions. As the Kiint have hinted to you, each race comes to terms with this aspect of life in its
own way.”

“Please, do you know of one that’s applicable to us?”

“Many are. I am not being deliberately obtuse. I can list them all, and I can and will assist you in applying them where relevant.
What I will not do is make the decision for you.”

“Why?” Monica asked. “Why are you helping us? It’s not that I’m ungrateful. But I am curious.”

“The Tyrathca were also correct when they said I exist to assist the progress of biological entities. Though the particular
circumstances humans are currently facing were not the reason I was created.”

“Then what were you made for?” Alkad asked.

“The race which created me had reached their evolutionary pinnacle; intellectually, physically, and in their technology. A
fact which should be self-evident to you, Dr Mzu. My sentience resides within a self-contained pattern of vacuum fluctuations.
This provides me with an extensive ability to manipulate mass and energy; for me thought is deed, the two are one and the
same. I used that ability to open a gateway for my creators into a new realm. They knew little of it, other than it existed;
its parameters are very different to this universe. So they chose to embark on a new phase of existence living within it.
They left this universe a long time ago.”

“And you’ve been helping various species progress along evolution’s track ever since?” Joshua said. “It’s your reason for
existing?”

“I do not require a continuing reason to exist, a motivation. That psychology is a descendent of a biological sentience. My
origins are not biological; I exist because they created me. It’s that simple.”

“Then why do you help?”

“Again, the simple answer would be because I can. But there are other considerations. It is an amplification of the problem
your species has encountered millions of times during its history, almost daily in fact. You were even subject to it at Mastrit-PJ.
When and where not to intervene? Did you believe you did the right thing by giving the Mosdva ZTT technology? Your intentions
were good, but ultimately they were governed by self interest.”

“Did we do the wrong thing?”

“The Mosdva certainly don’t think so. Such judgements are relative.”

“So you don’t help everybody all the time?”

“No. Such a level of intervention—shaping the nature of biological life to conform with my wishes, however benevolent—would
make me your ruler. Sentient life has free will. My creators believe that is why this universe exists. I respect that, and
will not interfere with its self determination.”

“Even when we make a mess of things?”

“That would be a judgement again.”

“But you are willing to help us if we ask?”

“Yes.”

Joshua looked at the projected image of the singularity, vaguely troubled. “All right, we’re definitely asking. Can we have
the list of solutions?”

“You may. I would suggest they would be more useful if you understood what has happened. That way, you would be able to make
a more informed decision on which one to apply.”

“Seems reasonable.”

“Wait,” Monica said. “You keep mentioning we have to make a decision. How do we do that?”

“What are you talking about?” Liol asked. “Once we’ve heard what’s on offer, we chose.”

“We do? Are we going to put it to a vote here in the ship, do we go back to the Confederation Assembly and ask them to decide?
What? We need to be certain about this first.”

Liol looked round the cabin, trying to identify the mood. “No, we don’t go back,” he said. “This is what we came here for.
The Jovian Consensus thought we were up to the job. So I say do it.”

“We’re deciding the future of our whole race,” she protested. “We can’t just leap into this. And…” she indicated Mzu. “Bloody
hell, she’s hardly qualified to be passing judgement on the rest of us. That’s the way I see it. You were going to use the
Alchemist against an entire planet.”

“Whereas the ESA is an organization of enviable morality,” Alkad snapped back. “How many people did you murder just tracking
me down?”

“You people have got to be fucking kidding,” Liol said. “You can’t even decide how to decide? Listen to yourselves! This kind
of personal stupidity is what dumps humans into the shit every time. We just discuss it and make a decision. That’s it. Finish.”

“No,” Samuel said. “The captain decides.”

“Me?” Joshua asked.

Monica stared at the Edenist in astonishment. “Him!”

“Yes, I agree,” the serjeant said. “Joshua decides.”

“He never doubted,” Samuel said. “Did you, Joshua? You’ve always known this would end in success.”

“I hoped it would, sure.”

“You doubted this flight,” Samuel told Monica. “You didn’t fully believe it would end in success. If you had, you would have
been prepared to make the decision. Instead, you have doubts, that disqualifies you. Whoever does this must have conviction.”

“Like yours, for instance,” Monica said. “A subset of your famous rationality.”

“I too find myself unqualified for this. Although Edenists think as one, to make a decision of this magnitude I find myself
wanting the reassurance of the Consensus. It would seem Edenism has a flaw after all.”

Joshua gazed round at his crew. “You’ve all been very quiet.”

“That’s because we trust you, Joshua,” Sarha said simply, and smiled. “You’re our captain.”

Strange, Joshua thought, when you got right down to the naked truth, people actually had faith in him. Who he was, what he’d
achieved, meant something to them. It was quite humbling, really. “All right,” he said slowly. He datavised the singularity:
“Is that acceptable to you?”

“I cannot take responsibility for your decisions, collective or otherwise. My only constraints are that I will not permit
you to use my abilities as a weapon. Other than that, you have free access.”

“Okay. Show me what happened.”

______

The possessed in the nave had dropped to their knees, concentrating hard on producing the stream
of energistic power which the dark Messiah demanded from them for his summoning. Up on the gallery facing them, Quinn’s robe
evaporated into pure shadow and began to flow out from his body, filling the air around him like a black spectre. At the heart,
his naked body gleamed silver. He accepted the offering from his followers, and directed it as he pleased. It spilled down
across the floor below the cathedral’s dome, prying at the structure of reality, weakening it.

Powel Manani and Fletcher Christian looked down at their feet in consternation as the tiles around them sprouted a luminous
purple haze. The soles of their shoes became enmeshed with the surface, making it hard to lift their feet up.

“I need to get near him,” Powel said.

Fletcher glanced up at the swarthy occultation looming above. “I wish to be as far from this dread place as possible. But
I will not leave without her.”

Powel exerted his own energistic power to yank his feet clear of the tiles. Even then it took considerable effort to move
them. He shuffled right up in front of Fletcher, the two of them almost touching. The bottom of his sweatshirt was lifted
a couple of centimetres, revealing Louise’s anti-memory weapon shoved into the top of his waistband.