That panic has never subsided. All human history was changed irrevocably by the discovery of the Bugs. All the work I had done to create a better and a fairer and a well regulated Universe was abandoned. The military- industrial complex took control. A thousand warships were outfitted on a yearly basis, each equipped with a Quantum Beacon. It took the first of them ninety years to reach the Epsilon Omega region. And once there, they used their Quantum Beacons to create a second impenetrable shell around the first impenetrable shell. The warships, of course, were by now trapped in place, on the wrong side of the impermeable wall. And so the trapped soldiers bred and raised children to be soldiers in turn.
These became our Sentinels; human beings whose only function and reason for being was to guard against the possibility of a Bug invasion. If that event ever happened, of course, the soldiers would die instantly, since there was and is no defence whatsoever against attack by sub-microscopic Bugs. They can go anywhere, penetrate any hull, crawl into any weapon.
But since they were trapped anyway, the Sentinels were led to believe they fulfilled a vital function. They lived, and still live, a life of pointless folly; sustained only by purpose-built religions which allow them to exist in a state of Messianic zeal. Their futility is known to everyone, but not to them…
A thousand impenetrable shells have now been constructed around the Bugs’ planetary system. All of mankind’s resources have been poured into making humankind safe from Bug. But to generate that wealth, and sustain that endless war drive, other considerations have slipped down the order of priorities. Democracy was lost centuries ago. Liberalism is a distant dream. Humankind exists on a permanent war economy, and government by diktat is now the only way.
The region outside the thousandth shell has come to be known as Debatable Space. In Debatable Space, half the sky is warped and twisted, because of the bizarre effects of the Quantumarity. And all humans who live there exist in a state of foreboding and dread because of the twisted sky above them, which serves as visible token of the Bug Threat at the heart of the Thousand Shells.
There is no law in Debatable Space. It is a wild place. It is the place of final escape for pirates and outlaws.
And I loathe the place, beyond all measure.
Flanagan
I am with Alliea. The mood is informal. I have showered, and trimmed and combed my grey beard, and carefully brushed my hair. We are having drinks in the ship’s bar. I look, I know, like a wolf who is being compelled to use a knife and fork.
“Don’t let her get to you,” I say, comfortingly.
“I don’t.”
“She doesn’t mean to be patronising.”
“She’s so fucking patronising!”
“She has a right to our respect. She’s lived, after all, an amazing life.”
“She slept her way to the top. That’s what I heard.”
“Not true.”
“She was a dictator. She destroyed democracy.”
“Not true either.”
“She committed murder.”
“And confessed her crime, and took her punishment. Besides, we murder people all the time.”
“We’re soldiers.”
“We’re killers.”
“It’s war.”
We pause.
“Can I say something?” I ask.
“What?”
“It’s hard.”
“Say it. You look strange.”
“I want to touch you.”
“No!”
“I know you loved him but…”
“There’s no ‘but’.”
“We could be something together.”
“Why not pair off with Kalen? She’ll do it with anyone, she doesn’t mind.”
“I have done.”
“Good?”
“Oh yes. I made her purr.”
Alliea laughs.
“This is not,” I tell her, “about sex. It’s about love. I’ve always loved you. I was jealous as hell of Rob, even though he was my friend. Now he’s dead. Please tell me I have a chance.”
“I find this really creepy.”
“I wake up every morning afraid. I want someone to share my bed. Be with me. Share my fears, and my joys.”
“I’ve sworn a vow. I’ll never take another partner. Even if I live to be a thousand.”
“What a stupid fucking vow.”
“It keeps me sane.”
“I’m desperate for you.”
“Try a handjob.”
“I don’t expect you to love me,” I say desperately. “I’d be happy with… less. Just friendship. With sex. Sex without love. You could go through the motions, but not feel anything in your heart for me.”
“Wow, what an offer.”
“I feel a black, black despair. I’ve lived too long.”
“I get that too.”
“The ten years on that merchant ship were a crucifixion of my soul.”
“It was ten subjective years. In Earth Time, it was twenty years.”
“I’m another half-century older.”
“We both are.”
“Kiss me Alliea.”
“No.”
“Then let me see you naked.”
“No’.
“Then at least, let me think about you sexually.”
She pauses, for a long long time.
“Okay,” she says, eventually. “Just this once.”
I ravish her with my eyes. I glory in the softness of her skin, the bulge of her breasts, her moist slightly parted lips, her dark hair framing the perfect oval of her face.
“Enough.”
I stop.
“Never again,” she tells me, and I nod.
I look at her now with cool, professional, dispassionate eyes. I am her Captain, she is my crew member. I have been indulged, my lust has been sated, now I have to forget I ever loved her. A promise is a promise.
So I cut my passion for Alliea out of my heart. It’s a tricky psychological manipulation, but I manage it. I now no longer love her.
“Done?”
