Back Vortex
Chapters (36)
  1. Title Page
  2. Chapter One. Sandra and Bose
  3. Chapter Two. Turk Findley’s Story
  4. Chapter Three. Sandra and Bose
  5. Chapter Four. Treya’s Story / Allison’s Story
  6. Chapter Five. Sandra and Bose
  7. Chapter Six. Turk Findley’s Story
  8. Chapter Seven. Sandra and Bose
  9. Chapter Eight. Allison’s Story
  10. Chapter Nine. Sandra and Bose
  11. Chapter Ten. Turk’s Story
  12. Chapter Eleven. Sandra and Bose
  13. Chapter Twelve. Turk’s Story
  14. Chapter Thirteen. Sandra and Bose
  15. Chapter Fourteen. Turk’s Story
  16. Chapter Fifteen. Sandra and Bose
  17. Chapter Sixteen. Turk’s Story
  18. Chapter Seventeen. Sandra and Bose
  19. Chapter Eighteen. Allison’s Story
  20. Chapter Nineteen. Sandra and Bose
  21. Chapter Twenty. Turk’s Story
  22. Chapter Twenty-One. Sandra and Bose
  23. Chapter Twenty-Two. Allison’s Story
  24. Chapter Twenty-Three. Sandra and Bose
  25. Chapter Twenty-Four. Turk’s Story
  26. Chapter Twenty-Five. Sandra and Bose
  27. Chapter Twenty-Six. Allison’s Story
  28. Chapter Twenty-Seven. Sandra and Bose
  29. Chapter Twenty-Eight. Allison’s Story
  30. Chapter Twenty-Nine. Sandra and Bose
  31. Chapter Thirty. Turk’s Story
  32. Chapter Thirty-One. Sandra
  33. Chapter Thirty-Two. Isaac’s Story / Orrin’s Story / The Sum of All Paths
  34. Acknowledgments
  35. By Robert Charles Wilson from Tom Doherty Associates
  36. Copyright

“What could you possibly have to say that would interest a being like him—even in English?”

That was insulting, so I used an expression Oscar might not have encountered in his formal training: “Fuck you,” I said, and closed the door.

2.

No word came from Turk—he had warned me they might keep him overnight after the surgery—and I decided I couldn’t sit alone any longer, partly because I was afraid my elevated heartbeat or hormonal chemistry might give the Network another clue to my state of mind, especially if Isaac wasn’t paying attention and blocking the sensors. I needed distraction. So I left the suite and rode transit to the nearest large public space, a terrace overlooking a market zone, to watch the parade of lights that marked the Festival of Ido.

Vox Core was a city of rituals and festivals. As Treya, I had always loved them. The part of me that was Allison was surprised that a polity as tight-laced as Vox should be so fond of celebrations. But Vox was a limbic democracy; sharing public emotion was what we did best.

Vox had been founded on a planet called Ester, five worlds away from Old Earth. We still kept the Esterish year of 723 days and the Esterish division of a day into twenty-four hours (a custom as ancient as Earth itself, though Ester’s days and hours were slightly longer). Vox had journeyed through all five of those worlds, sailing the isotropic sea that linked every Ring world with the exception of Mars. We marked many of our days with celebrations: celebrations of the Founding, of the Prophecies, of the anniversaries of historical battles and so on. The Festival of Ido commemorated our victory over bionormative forces at the Arch of Terivine—the battle in which we had taken the prisoners who eventually formed the nucleus of the Farmer caste.

It was a martial holiday, with fireworks and drums and torch parades. Most years the celebration was joyous, bountiful. This year the feasts were rationed and there was a note of hysteria in the festivities. Everyone knew it might be the last Ido before the remaking of the world.