“That’s not like you,” Marjorie said. “The man I married would never allow our way of life to be cast aside.”
“The man you married hadn’t been possessed. Damn that Luca to hell.”
“They’ll always be with us, just as we were always with them.”
Provider globes were drifting round the manor, ejecting replacements for items which had never been repaired or replaced. The staff followed them, fitting lengths of guttering, hammering new trellis sections onto the walls, mending fence posts, plumbing in sections of central heating pipe. Grant felt like shouting at the globes to go away, but Cricklade needed fixing up: for all Luca’s attention its overall maintenance had been pretty shabby during the possession. And providers were doing the same thing for every household in Stoke County. People were entitled to some charity and good fortune after what they’d been through.
He examined that thought, wondering who it had come from. Was it too kind for Grant, not liberal enough for Luca? In the end it didn’t matter, because it was right.
When he walked into the courtyard, another provider was repairing the burnt-out stable all by itself. Its purple surface flowed through buckled soot-clad walls and blackened timbers, leaving a broad line of clean straight stone and tiled roof in its wake. The process was like a brush painting detail over a preliminary sketch.
“Now that’s what I call a corrupting influence,” Carmitha said. “No one’s going to forget just how green the grass is on the other side of the technological divide. Did you know they can make food as well?”
“No,” Grant said.
“I’ve been working my way down an impressive little menu. Very tasty. You should try it.”
“Why are you still here?”
“Are you asking me to leave?”
“No. Of course not.”
“They’ll come back, Grant. You might have loosened up, but you still don’t give your own daughters the credit they deserve.”
He shook his head and walked away.
Grant and Marjorie were already coming down the portico’s broad stone steps to find out what the flyer was doing. They both froze when they saw the familiar little figure emerge. Then Genevieve streaked over and cannoned into her mother so hard she nearly knocked both of them over.
Marjorie wouldn’t let go of her daughter. She had trouble speaking, her throat was so choked up with crying. “Did . . . did it happen to you?” she asked in trepidation.
“Oh no,” Genevieve said breezily. “Louise got us off the planet. I’ve been to Mars, and Earth, and Tranquillity. I was scared a lot, but it was really exciting.”
Louise put her arms around both her parents and kissed them.
“You’re all right,” Grant said.
“Yes, Daddy, I’m just fine.”
He stepped back to look at her, so wonderfully self-confident and poised in her smart-cut travel suit with a skirt that finished well above her knees. This little Louise would never meekly do as she was told, no matter how much he shouted.
Louise gave both her parents an impish grin and took a deep breath. Genevieve started giggling wildly.
“I’m sure you both remember my husband,” Louise said in a rush.
Grant stared at Joshua with complete disbelief.
“I was bridesmaid!” Genevieve shouted.
Joshua put his hand out.
“Daddy,” Louise scolded firmly.
Grant did as he was told, and shook Joshua’s hand.
“You’re married?” Marjorie said faintly.
“Yes.” Joshua gave her a level stare, and planted a small kiss on her cheek. “Two days ago.”
Louise held up her hand, showing off the ring.
“Oh look,” Genevieve said. “Our stuff. I’ve got so much to show you.” Beaulieu, Liol, and Dahybi were struggling down the flyer’s airstairs, laden with cases and departmentstore boxes. Genevieve gallivanted back to help them, her duster bracelet spilling a shiny cometary tail through the air behind her.
“Bloody hell,” Grant murmured. He smiled, knowing resistance was useless and being rather glad of it, too. “Ah well, congratulations, my boy. Make damn sure you look after my daughter properly, she means everything to us.”
“Thank you, sir.” Joshua grinned his grin. “I’ll do my best.”
Space was different now. A hint at what was to befall in a few billion years.
Galactic superclusters no longer expanded away from each other; they were returning, drifting back to their place of origin. The quantum structure of space-time altered as the dimensional realms began to press in, flowing back towards the centre of the universe.
The wormhole terminus opened, and Quinn Dexter emerged to look out upon the multitude of forces gathering at the end of time. His body dissolved painlessly, freeing his possessors. They fled away from him, free to move as they chose amid the dense energy strands flooding the cosmos. Life pervaded space all around them, the aether ringing with the song of mind. Liberated, they joined the throng, sailing in towards the omega point.
Quinn watched galaxies being torn apart a million light-years ahead of him, their arms streaming out behind the core as they accelerated into the irresistible black mass. Star clusters flared white, then purple, as they sank below the event horizon, vanishing forever into this universe’s final Night.
His serpent beast howled for joy as he saw his Lord’s expansion into the dying universe, absorbing every atom, every thought. Triumphant at the very end, the Light Bringer was growing at the heart of darkness, ensuring all which was to follow would be different to everything that had gone before.
EPILOGUE
Jay Hilton
Gatekeeper’s Cottage
Cricklade Estate
Stoke County
Kesteven Island
Norfolk
