even explain Swantic-LI’s jump to another star. Vacuum fluctuations can have a negative energy.”
“Of course,” Renato said. He smiled eagerly at his boss, catching the idea quickly. “They’d be exotic, that’s the state which holds a wormhole open. Just like a voidhawk’s distortion field.”
Samuel had been shaking his head as the discussion ploughed onwards. “But why?” he said. “Why build something like this, what is it for?”
“It’s a perpetual source of wormholes,” Alkad said. “And the Tyrathca said it assists the progress of biological entities. This is the ultimate stardrive generator. You could probably use it to travel between galaxies.”
“Christ, intergalactic travel,” Liol said dreamily. “How about that.”
“Very nice,” Monica retorted. “But it hardly helps us to deal with possession.”
Liol gave her a pained glance.
“Okay,” Joshua said. “If you guys are right about this being an artificially maintained naked singularity, there must be some kind of control centre for the vacuum fluctuations. Have you found that yet?”
“There’s nothing out there except the singularity itself,” Renato said. “Our satellites are covering all of the surface. Nothing hiding on the other side, nothing in orbit.”
“There has to be something else. The Tyrathca got it to open a wormhole for them. How do we do that?”
His neural nanonics reported a new communication channel opening. “You ask,” the singularity datavised.
The cloud’s luminosity remained constant, but its shading had shifted a long way down the spectrum as Louise approached its epicentre. When she walked across the paved plaza outside St Paul’s cathedral every surface was toned a deep crimson. Stone carvings embellishing the beautiful old building cast long black shadows down the wall, ebony jail bars gripping it tightly, squeezing away the last remnants of sanctity.
Her escort pranced around her like insane Morris dancers, inviting her onward with mocking gestures. The snarls of thunder ended as she reached the large oaken doors, leaving an onerous silence. Louise walked into the cathedral.
She took a couple of steps forward, then faltered. The doors closed behind her with a ululation of cold air. Thousands of possessed were standing waiting along the nave, dressed in elaborate costumes from every era of human history and culture, each one completely black. They were all facing her. The organ began to play, blasting out a harsh hard-rock version of the wedding march. Louise put her hands over her ears, it was so loud. All the possessed turned to face the altar, leaving a narrow passage clear down the very centre of the nave. She began to walk down it. It wasn’t a conscious thing, her limbs did as they were commanded by the massed will of the possessed. Her anti-memory weapon fell from numbed fingers after she’d taken the first few steps, clattering away over the cracked tiles.
Ghosts drifted towards her, hands held out to implore. They swept past her as she carried on walking, shaking their heads in sorrow.
The music ended when she reached the front row of the possessed. They were standing level with the cathedral’s transept wings; ahead of them, the floor underneath the vaulting central dome was empty. Iron braziers with foul-smelling fires were lining the walls, their black smoke smudging the pale stonework. She couldn’t actually see the apex of the dome, it was obscured by a pall of grey fug. There was a gallery high above her. Several people leaned on its rail, looking down at her with mild interest.
Her compulsion ended, and she tottered forward.
“Hello, Louise,” Quinn Dexter said. He stood in front of the defiled altar, no part of him visible within the black robe.
She took a couple of unsteady steps. Fear was tightening every muscle, turning her body stiff. She wasn’t even certain she could stand for much longer. “Dexter?”
“None other.” He moved to one side, allowing her to see a man’s body spread-eagled across the altar. “And now God’s Brother has brought the three of us together again.”
“Fletcher,” she squeaked.
Quinn held out an arm towards her and extended a swan-white hand. A claw finger beckoned, granting her permission to approach.
The lacerations and dried blood coating his skin made her afraid. But as she drew closer she saw his muscles were bunched and trembling. An unfamiliar face was contorted with distress, sucking down air in fast pain-filled gulps.
“Fletcher?”
Quinn waved his hand, and the electricity was turned off. The body slumped down onto the stone, panting in shock. Slowly, Fletcher’s face emerged to replace the blooded features. The chains and metal bands securing him dropped away. All of the wounds were banished from sight as his customary naval uniform materialized. He climbed down gingerly from the altar.
“My dearest lady. You should not have come.”
“I had to.”
Quinn laughed. “Your call, Fletch. You can walk out of here with her now if you make the right decision. If not, she’s all mine.”
“My lady.” Fletcher’s face was riven with anguish.
“Why can you walk out?” she asked.
“He’s just got to sign up for the army of the damned,” Quinn said. “I won’t even make him do it in blood.”
“No,” she said. “Fletcher, you mustn’t do that. I came here to warn you all. This has to stop. You have to disperse the red cloud.”
“Is that a threat, Louise?” Quinn asked.
“You’ve frightened Govcentral with the red cloud. They think you’re going to take the Earth away from the universe. The President won’t let that happen. He’s going to use Strategic Defence weapons against London. Everyone will die. Millions and millions of people.”
“I won’t,” Quinn said.
“But they will.” Louise waved an arm back at the silent ranks of his disciples. “Without them you’re nothing.”
Quinn glided up to Louise. His face slipped out of the robe’s shadows to show her his furious expression. “God’s Brother, I hate you!” He slammed his hand across the side of her head, using energistic power to amplify the strength of the blow.
Louise screamed at the pain, flying back to crash into the altar. She crumpled forward onto the floor, whimpering as blood pumped into her mouth.
Fletcher made a start forwards, finding the end of Quinn’s anti-memory weapon pressed against his nose. “Back off, fuckhead,” Quinn snarled. “Back!”
Fletcher retreated, breathing heavily.
Quinn glared down at Louise. “You came here to save people. People you’ve never seen. People you’ll never know. Didn’t you?”
Louise was sobbing from the pain, holding a hand to her face. Blood ran out of her mouth, dripping onto the floor. She looked up at him, devoid of understanding.
“Didn’t you?”
“Yes,” she wept.
“I hate that
