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Back Eternity
Chapters (90)
  1. Eternity
  2. Copyright
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. Contents
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. 54
  60. 55
  61. 56
  62. 57
  63. 58
  64. 59
  65. 60
  66. 61
  67. 62
  68. 63
  69. 64
  70. 65
  71. 66
  72. 67
  73. 68
  74. 69
  75. 70
  76. 71
  77. 72
  78. 73
  79. 74
  80. 75
  81. 76
  82. 77
  83. 78
  84. 79
  85. 80
  86. 81
  87. 82
  88. 83
  89. EPILOGUE
  90. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Korzenowski removed his hands from the clavicle’s bars. He could not see Ry Oyu, although he had been aware of the gate-opener’s presence throughout the linking. Defense forces in the seventh chamber swept their invisible beams of sensor radiation down the re-opened Way, searching for any sign of Jart occupation.

“The connection is stable,” he said. “The Way is open.”

67

The Way

The Stone orbited the Earth, as it had since the Sundering, with only one difference—it now pointed its north pole away from the Earth. The seventh chamber was now a featureless, abyssal darkness. Traction fields kept all matter away from the north pole. Nothing would be allowed to enter the area of linkage.

News passed quickly.

There were few celebrations. The reality was more a matter of sober reflection than festivity. The Hexamon’s obsession had been fulfilled.

But they had been away from their vast domain for decades—and who knew how much time had passed within the Way?

The president’s new body was still being made. Korzenowski stood in the middle of the president’s third chamber apartment, located on the peak of the highest building in a chamber-spanning curtain structure on which skycrapers hung like crystals from a spider web. The space was empty and echoing, luminous with the unfinished whiteness of an undecorated environment. The president’s image was a projection from an isolated section of Thistledown’s city memory.

“Good day, Ser Engineer,” Farren Siliom said. Korzenowski stood with arms folded before the image.

“The work is done, Ser President.”

“So I’ve seen…and been told. A superb job, according to your colleagues.”

“Thank you.”

“Can you explain why the Way is now empty for such a distance?”

Korzenowski shook his head. “I cannot, Ser President.” It comes down to lies.

“Could it be because the Jarts are waiting for us, in ambush?”

“I don’t know what the Jarts are thinking, Ser President.”

“I think you might have a clue…as much as I do. I’ve had visitors in city memory, three of them.”

Korzenowski raised his eyebrows, but looked away, close to total exhaustion, wanting to sit. A chair rose out of the floor behind him and he sat. “Excuse me. I haven’t slept or used any Talsit. It’s been very strenuous.”

“Of course. It isn’t possible to truly dream in city memory, and fantasy or delusion is always clearly marked. What I saw was no delusion.”

Korzenowski folded his hands, unwilling to make guesses.