The Hydrogen Sonata

fabulously, ellipsoidally rotund, dazzling with multiple sun-lines and tiny artificial stars providing illumination for motley steps and levels and layers of riotous vegetation — belonging, strictly speaking, on thousands of different worlds spread across the galaxy — boasting hundreds of contrasting landscapes from the most mathematically manicured to the most (seemingly) pristinely, savagely wild, all contained on slab-storeys of components generally kilometres high, each stratified within one of a dozen stacked atmospheric gradients, the ship’s cosseted internals were riddled, woven and saturated with domesticated, tamed and semi-wild life in hundreds of thousands of smaller enclosed habitats, while its buzzing, external, bewilderingly complex archi-geographic lines were made fuzzy, imprecisely seen by near-uncountable numbers of craft moving within that vast, elongated bubble of air — from smaller classes of GSV through other ships, modules, shuttles and aircraft all the way down to individual humans in float-harnesses, single drones and even smaller machines, as well as thousands of species of winged and lighter- than-air bio-creatures — the Empiricist was, in sum, home to hundreds of billions of animals and over thirteen billion humans and drones.

The people of the Culture, better than ninety-five per cent of them housed across the vast, distributed bucolic hinterland of the Orbitals, scattered throughout the civilised galaxy like a million glowing bracelets, were used to thinking of the GSVs as being their true mega-cities — albeit determinedly highly mobile, high-speed mega-cities — but GSVs like the Empiricist were on another level and of another order entirely; they held the populations of worlds, of entire inhabited stellar systems. Zyse, the Gzilt home planet and the giant GSV’s destination, held over three billion people. The whole of the Gzilt system added another twenty billion, in part- habiformed worlds and moons, microrbitals and other habitats. The Empiricist arriving was like another half a solar system of people being added, like another four mature, substantial planets’ worth of souls suddenly coming to visit.

Preceded by a ceremonial screen of smaller craft — including a couple of GSVs, each home to many millions — the gradually slowing Empiricist first met with a couple of Gzilt navy ships — effectively sweeping the two cruisers up with it as it proceeded resplendently past the rendezvous point — then, as it slowed still further, gradually attracted hundreds of civilian welcoming craft too.

Had not so many locals been Stored — and had all been well within the Gzilt body politic — it supposed it might have attracted thousands. The ship’s septet of semi-independent Minds became graciously, easily busy with welcoming signals and media requests.

The Empiricist approached and then inserted itself into a specially cleared orbital band high over Zyse. It had started slowing almost a day earlier; now it was down to the sort of velocity required for a stately orbit of the world every couple of hours, allowing plenty of time for people on the ground to look up and see it gliding smoothly, glitteringly, statuesquely overhead, and reducing the time it would take to ferry people to and from the planetary surface.

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xGSV Empiricist

oLOU Caconym

oGSV Contents May Differ

oGCU Displacement Activity

oGSV Just The Washing Instruction Chip In Life’s Rich Tapestry

oUe Mistake Not…

oMSV Passing By And Thought I’d Drop In

oMSV Pressure Drop

oLSV You Call This Clean?

Arrived over Zyse. Good to be here, finally. Mostly. Been thinking; going to keep my two Delinquents, Headcrash and Xenocrat, close by. They are conveniently hereabouts, after all, and the political atmosphere locally does seem a little… odd. Well, poisonous, to be blunt. How was this allowed to develop?

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xMSV Passing By And Thought I’d Drop In

Welcome. Yes, we might have wished for better. Everything’s in the signal streams, of course, but soaking in all the local comms and media traffic of the last twenty-few days is definitely recommended. Worth setting one Mind on that alone, if I may make so bold. My network of sats and such is at your disposal, though of course you may wish to emplace your own. I’d be as happy to advise as to leave you to your own devices.

Are you really so worried regarding the current situation to feel the Delinquents must remain as close guards? I think I speak for the group when I say we were hoping those and more might be available for further use in the current emergency while your own safety might be ensured with your doubtless many other assets.

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Let’s see how things develop over the next couple of days. For now I’d feel safer with the Delinquents as part of my general defensive mix. I did have to leave some offensive units behind to mop up at Loliscombana. I’m building to replace, but that’ll take time.

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xLOU Caconym

oMSV Pressure Drop

What’s that big fuck playing at? The next few days are the crucial ones; the only ones. We might need those ships now.

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It’s being cautious and protecting a pop of umpteen bill. When you carry around that sort of responsibility you can’t help but become ultra careful. Mostly these big ships pursue a no-risks-whatever policy; I’m mildly surprised it deigned to visit Gzilt at all given the recent excitements.

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That’s the trouble with ships that size; too big to risk, and also, therefore, to be effective. Terribly impressive, and if all the bios plonk down to Zyse and walk around they can surely make the place look busy for the first time in years, but so what? Couldn’t be more of a liability if it had hauled a train of Orbitals behind it and parked them in the local asteroid belt. Anyway, what does that leave us with? The Mistake Not… is about to hit Xown — again — and the Passing By…’s two Thugs are keeping remarkably quiet. Wasn’t one meant to be shadowing the Liseiden?

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Allegedly. Sending a private request for a public statement; we do kind of need a general update now the big-but-plugged gun has arrived… nope; the Passing By… wishes to remain reticent on the subject. Bet the new boy asks. Anyway, back to listening. Worshipful listening, as I don’t doubt it will be interpreted…

The reception was muted due to the recent death of the president, but was, nevertheless, still quite entirely splendid. The enormous central Receiving Hall of the parliament’s Upper Chamber had been trimmed everywhere in mourning red, the towering mirror panels reflecting a seeming infinitude of scarlet corridors leading in every horizontal direction.

“Place looks rather good like this,” Yegres said, nodding over his glass at the huge central scoop of red marking the covered chandelier cluster hanging from the centre of the space. “We should have lost presidents more often.”

“It’s a little late, though, isn’t it?” Banstegeyn replied.

“Everything is,” Yegres agreed. “Oh,” he said, catching sight of seven tall figures moving liquidly through the crowd on the main floor. “Oh well, here come the relations. I’d better leave you to your ceremonial solitariness.” He chucked back his drink, hitched up his long robes and stepped down from the dais.

The septame watched the arrow-shaped mass of avatars and their hangers-on move towards him, like something aimed. “Solitude,” he said, to himself rather than really to Yegres, who was too far away and submerged in the crowd of people behind. “Solitude, not solitariness.” Of course, he was careful not to move his lips, in case.