‘It was a stirring sight, Captain. Powerful timeships, seemingly without number, coming one by one up the procession ramp to be presented to the people and blessed by the Arch-Cardinal Reamoir, before phasing into the strat. Now the three main wings are joining formation from the nodes where they were built. Very soon the Hegemony should feel their presence. If it does at all …’
‘May God go with them,
‘If it does at all,’ repeated the
‘
The machine-emperor’s continuous hum undulated thoughtfully. ‘Orthogonal time is breaking up, Captain. If you were to journey through the empire now you would not recognise it. For the past two days it has been impossible to phase into Nodes Three and Four.’
Aton was aghast. ‘
‘Nothing intelligible exists there. Orthogonal time has become totally deranged in the area. The strat is like an ocean in many respects, Captain Aton. The features we call the nodes are the regularly spaced ripples on the surface that hold the orthogonal world together. But there can be deeper waves that can overthrow everything. Tidal waves that tear the world of reality apart.’
Aton noted that the
‘What will happen?’
‘What has happened will happen.’
Back to cryptic utterances, Aton thought in disgust.
Inpriss had crept forward to join them. She looked up overawed at the
Aton happened to glance to his right and with bulging eyes saw the east wall curve inward as though it were a wall of water. In seconds the heaving structure righted itself and stood rigid, but he knew the signs of spatio-temporal deformation.
‘Are we under attack?’ he asked sharply.
‘The whole empire is under attack. Time is under attack.’
Those were the last words the
They returned still carrying the memory of their previous existence. ‘What happened?’ said Aton.
‘The empire was annihilated,’ said the
The entirety of the strain being put upon orthogonal time had been steadily building up into a wide-scale wave motion originating deep in the substratum. Eventually it had climaxed in a sort of tidal wave. The Chronotic Empire, and everything associated with it, was swept away.
But the giant time-storm was by no means over. On the contrary, the oscillations were building up and becoming more violent. As the wave entered the second half of its cycle the empire reappeared, almost exactly as when the wave had overtaken it.
But not quite.
There were innumerable small changes. And the difference between these and normal Chronotic mutations was that the inhabitants of the empire were aware of them.
Prince Vro Ixian had at last achieved his heart’s desire. Following leads found in the Traumatics’ temple in Umbul, the detective Perlo Rolce had traced the body of Princess Veaa to a rundown house in the outskirts of the city. Prince Vro, arming himself and taking only Rolce with him, entered the house and found it uninhabited.
Methodically he went through the dwelling room by room. In the second floor back he discovered a chamber draped in white silk. An open coffin of pinewood lay on a dais, and in the coffin, as beautiful as a pale rose, was the embalmed corpse of the young princess.
‘My dearest, my beloved Veaa!’ Vro swept towards the coffin.
And in that moment the tidal wave of potential time overcame the material world and swept everything away. The world came back in what, to the actors in it, could have been only an instant. But Vro was aware of the hiatus and understood what it implied.
In the coffin Princess Veaa opened her eyes, moved her head, and slowly sat up.
Vro gave a wild cry. ‘Veaa!’ he shrieked.
‘Vro!’ Her shriek was no less mortified.
The two stared at each other in utter horror.
In the court chamber everything was more or less as before. Inpriss Sorce clung tightly to Aton.
‘Will it happen again?’ Aton asked.
‘The wave has but receded for a moment. The turbulence is still building up. When it returns there will be no reprieve. All will dissolve … permanently.’
The