The Temporal Void Read Free Page A

sight more than that. If he doesn’t get down on his knees and beg that Skylord he’ll wish all he faces is oblivion in the expansion.’
    ‘Now don’t start threatening people,’ she rebuked immediately.
    ‘Yeah, yeah.’
    ‘I’ll try to keep a channel open to Centurion Station’s relay as long as I can. The Navy systems are tough, they should hold out a while yet.’
    ‘Okay, I’ll go find me the little tit responsible for this almighty screw-up.’
    ‘Thanks, Dad.’
    ‘Godspeed.’
    *
     
    At three o’clock in the morning Chris Turner left the staff canteen on the east side of Colwyn City’s docks and grimaced at the rain splattering on to his face. He’d hoped the unseasonal weather front would blow over while he was taking his break. But no, the thick clouds showed no sign of relenting. His semi-organic jacket rolled a collar up round his neck, and he hurried back to the maintenance depot.
    Chris couldn’t see anything moving in the docks tonight. Not that other nights were much different. Night-time staffing levels were low. Bots were off line for maintenance, which was why he’d pulled this grotty shift – it wasn’t popular but it paid well. Trans-ocean barges stayed moored to the quay while their crews slept or clubbed the night away in town. Warehouses were shut.
    There wasn’t any activity in the city, either. The rain had put a halt to the usual nightlife. Capsules and ground vehicles had hauled the last optimistic revellers back to their homes a long time ago. He could just make out the huge single-span arch bridge over the Cairns, its lights a hazy smear through the rain. Normally there would be something driving over it, or a few taxis sliding along its metro rail. But not tonight. He shivered. The city like this was actually kind of spooky. To counter the feeling of isolation he reached down into the gaiafield to gain some emotional comfort from the eternal thoughts whirling within. The usual busy background babble slithered round him like noisy spectres; thoughts that called, mournfully and eagerly, feelings which intrigued, though he shied away from the sadder ones.
    A little more comfortable now he knew there were other humans still alive and awake, Chris quickened his pace. There were another eight general purpose bots that needed an overhaul before morning. Even with the company smartcore interfaced with the engineering bays back in the maintenance depot, he’d be hard pressed to finish on time. Yet again he wondered if the pay for late shift was truly worth the cost. His friends only ever got to see him at the weekends, and then his sleep pattern made him lousy company.
    He walked along the long line of landing pads, boots splashing in the puddles that were expanding over the vast apron of concrete. Gentle green-tinged ripples reflected the luminescence given off by the lighting globes on their high posts overhead. Thick droplets splattered down noisily from the dark hulls of parked starships.
    Up in front and ten metres above the slick concrete a small star flared blue-violet. Chris’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. You couldn’t work in the starship business, even in a peripheral position like his, without knowing the signature spectrum of Cherenkov radiation. ‘That’s wrong,’ he said dumbly.
    The star vanished, and the air where it had been rippled. Chris was suddenly staring at a perfect black circle whose base touched the ground. The blackness changed again, lightening to blue-grey, then receding at a speed which made him giddy. Instinct brought his arms up for balance, he was certain he was falling forwards. When he steadied himself he was looking along an infinite tunnel. Its soft-glowing fabric brightened intolerably as dazzling sunlight streamed out. Not Viotia’s sun, he knew. This was another star altogether.
    The light dimmed for a moment as a big capsule slipped out of the opening. Chris scurried away to one side. He could see the wormhole had lowered