BooksBarbecue
Back Excession
Chapters (108)
  1. About the Author
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright Page
  4. Dedication
  5. 1 - Outside Context Problem
  6. I
  7. II
  8. III
  9. IV
  10. V
  11. VI
  12. 2 - Not Invented Here
  13. I
  14. II
  15. III
  16. 3 - Uninvited Guests
  17. I
  18. II
  19. III
  20. IV
  21. 4 - Dependency Principle
  22. I
  23. II
  24. III
  25. IV
  26. V
  27. 5 - Kiss The Blade
  28. I
  29. II
  30. III
  31. IV
  32. V
  33. VI
  34. 6 - Pittance
  35. I
  36. II
  37. III
  38. IV
  39. V
  40. VI
  41. 7 - Tier
  42. I
  43. II
  44. III
  45. IV
  46. 8 - Killing Time
  47. I
  48. II
  49. III
  50. IV
  51. V
  52. VI
  53. VII
  54. VIII
  55. 9 - Unacceptable Behaviour
  56. I
  57. II
  58. III
  59. IV
  60. V
  61. VI
  62. VII
  63. VIII
  64. IX
  65. X
  66. XI
  67. XII
  68. XIII
  69. XIV
  70. 10 - Heavy Messing
  71. I
  72. II
  73. III
  74. IV
  75. V
  76. VI
  77. VII
  78. VIII
  79. IX
  80. X
  81. XI
  82. XII
  83. XIII
  84. XIV
  85. XV
  86. 11 - Regarding Gravious
  87. I
  88. II
  89. III
  90. IV
  91. V
  92. VI
  93. VII
  94. VIII
  95. IX
  96. X
  97. XI
  98. XII
  99. XIII
  100. XIV
  101. 12 - Faring Well
  102. I
  103. II
  104. III
  105. IV
  106. V
  107. VI
  108. Epilogue

Ulver Seich tssked as some of her infusion spilled into the cup’s saucer.

The view had changed. Now it snapped to a grey-blue expanse of something curved, like a cup of cloud seen from the inside. It pivoted again, and they were looking at a series of vast steps like the entrance to an ancient temple. The broad shelves of the stairs led up to a rectangular entrance lined with tiny lights; a dark space beyond twinkled with still smaller lamps. The view drew back to reveal a series of such entrances arranged side by side, the rest of which were closed. Above and below, set into the faces of the steps, were smaller doors, all similarly shut.

‘Success,’ the slave-drone said.

The view was changing again as the ship was drawn slowly backwards towards the single opened bay.

Genar-Hofoen frowned. ‘We’re going inside?’ he asked the slave-drone.

It swivelled to face him, paused just long enough for the human to form the impression he was being treated like some sort of cretin. ‘. . . Well, yes . . .’ it said, slowly, as one might to a particularly dim child.

‘But I was told--’

‘Welcome aboard the Sleeper Service,’ said a voice behind them. They turned to see a tall, angular, black-dressed creature walking into the lounge. ‘My name is Amorphia.’

III

III

The drone returned to the Appeal To Reason and was taken back aboard. Seconds passed.

~ Well? the Fate Amenable To Change asked.

There was a brief pause. A microsecond or so. Then: ~ It’s empty, the Appeal To Reason sent.

~ Empty?

~ Yes. It didn’t record anything. It’s like it never went anywhere.

~ Are you sure?

~ Take a look for yourself.

A data dump followed. The Fate Amenable To Change shunted it into a memory core it had set up for just such a purpose the moment it had realised what the Excession was, almost a month earlier. It was the equivalent of a locked room, an isolation ward, a cell. More information poured out of the Appeal To Reason; a gushing river of data trying to flood in after the original data dump. The Culture ship ignored it. Part of its Mind was listening to the howling, thumping noises coming out of that locked room.

Information flickered between the Appeal To Reason and the Sober Counsel, an instant before the Fate sent its own warning signal. It cursed itself for its procrastination, even if its warning would almost certainly have gone unheeded anyway.

It signalled the distant, war-readied Elench craft instead, begging them to believe the worst had happened. There was no immediate reply.