Barrington Bayley SF Gateway Omnibus: The Soul of the Robot, The Knights of the Limits, The Fall of Chronopolis

Prince Vro’s tone was amicably sardonic; in point of fact Mayar found the necessity for the visit far from pleasant and he longed to return to the safety of his vaults. His department’s deployment into the strat had increased the sense of separation and isolation pervading the archives, and he had had to conquer a very considerable fear in order to make the trip to the Imperial Palace. Nothing but a command from a member of the imperial family was enough to persuade him to venture forth these days.

‘It feels unsettling, Your Highness. The world is in a far from happy state. It has lost stability. Who can tell what will happen?’

‘So you still feel it is all a dream, eh? Perhaps you feel you only wake from this dream when back in your archives.’

‘Something like that.’ Mayar licked his lips. ‘Your Highness, since you are going to accompany Perlo Rolce in the search for Princess Veaa, let me entreat you to take care. The Traumatics are highly dangerous people. They are afraid of no one.’

Vro laughed. ‘Why, I had thought you were well on the way to becoming one yourself!’

The archivist looked puzzled. ‘I, Your Highness?’

‘But of course! Surely you realise that all this gloomy talk of yours about time being a dream, and that only the strat is real, is part of the Traumatic heresy? That it conflicts with the doctrine of the Holy Trinity? You should be careful who you speak like that to. If Arch-Cardinal Reamoir were to –’

‘I hadn’t thought of it like that,’ Mayar muttered uncomfortably.

‘Probably, like me, you have no time for religion. And of course you avoided the misfortune of receiving a prince’s education. I know every aspect of Church doctrine by heart; it was drummed into me from infancy.’

‘My work is more scientific than religious,’ Mayar admitted. ‘I was brought up in the tradition of the Church, of course, but I cannot say I have made a study of heresies. It is not encouraged in a high official.’

‘Just as well, or you would probably be too frightened to indulge in your present freedom of thought.’ Vro swung a leg negligently from the arm of his chair. He seemed amused. ‘You are definitely heretical. Compare your frame of mind with the Church’s teaching on the Holy Trinity. God is the Father, the world of orthogonal time is the Son, and the strat is the Holy Ghost, by means of which the Father creates the Son. According to the Church the orthogonal world is real, palpable, actually existing, while the strat, or Holy Ghost, is less real because it is spiritual and potential. It’s a sort of median between the real world and God, who transcends reality.’

‘I know my catechism,’ Mayar muttered, a trifle put out by the lecture. Vro, however, continued. He enjoyed such discussions; although he was privately an atheist, theology fascinated him.

‘Your own beliefs come closer to those of the Traumatics,’ he repeated to Mayar. ‘The world is unreal, or relatively so, and the strat is real. According to them the world is created by Hulmu, their god who dwells in the deeps of the strat, and he creates it by projecting it on to a screen, exactly as in a cinema. Its entire purpose is to comprise a sort of picture show for him. That’s why their emblem of the creation is a hologram projector and why one of their ceremonial names for Hulmu is “the Projector Operator”.’

‘Strange that an organisation with such horrible practices should support them with so philosophical a doctrine.’

‘Oh, the cult of Hulmu is not new. It is at least as old as the Church. Some say it challenged the Church for supremacy in the early days.’

‘You mean it sprang from an independent source?’ Mayar frowned. ‘I always thought it was founded by renegades.’

‘The origin of the Traumatic sect isn’t quite clear,’ Prince Vro admitted. ‘But the Church’s own doctrine has been modified over the years. In the beginning it was somewhat closer to the Traumatic beliefs. God was deemed to dwell in the uttermost depths of the strat. The Holy Order of the Chronotic Knights even organised deep-diving expeditions to try to find God, but they all came to grief. Later the Church’s theology became more sophisticated and now it is taught that God cannot be found in any direction accessible to a time-ship. Seeking for him by entering the deeps of time is regarded as a trap for the ignorant, for it harbours not God but the Evil One.’

‘Hulmu.’

Vro nodded. ‘Officially the Traumatics are devil-worshippers. Hulmu is identified with the Adversary. It’s rather interesting that even the Church doesn’t dismiss the sect as simple foolishness. In the Church’s eyes Hulmu really exists, though he deludes his followers into believing him to be the creator.’

‘Then the soul of Princess Veaa is in mortal danger,’ mumbled Mayar, and instantly regretted his words.

Vro’s face clouded over. ‘Yes, Archivist,’ he said softly. ‘But I may yet save her. Like a knight of old, armed and ready, I shall go forth into the future!’

Aton materialised behind a pillar in the main court of the inner sanctum.