The Dreaming Void by Peter F. Hamilton

Author:Peter F. Hamilton [Hamilton, Peter F.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Tags: Retail, Personal
Publisher: Random House
Published: 0101-01-01T07:00:00+00:00

Three minutes later Aaron made it out onto the roof of the administration block. He walked over to the edge, drawing breath in short gasps. The numb shoulder wound had started to coldburn, radiating out waves of dizziness that his medical enrichments could barely prevent from overwhelming him. A terrible burst of pain from his legs, stomach, and spine drilled into him, blinding him as he convulsed. Unseen in his exovision displays, the biononics reported progress in their quest to trace and eliminate the remaining elusive microjanglers still contaminating his blood.

Slowly, stiffly, he straightened up again, teetering close to a two-story fall. His u-shadow reconnected to the unisphere as soon as he clambered out of the elevator shaft and reported that the remnant of the smartcore was yelling for help on just about every link the clinic had with the unisphere.

“Police tactical troops are responding,” the u-shadow informed him. “Clinic security officers are arming themselves. Perimeter is sealing.”

“We’d better leave, then,” Aaron said with bravado. He winced again at a shiver of phantom pain from his collarbone and called Corrie-Lyn. “Let’s go. I’m at designated position one-A.”

“Oh,” she replied. “Are you finished already?”

For a moment he thought she was joking. “What?”

“I didn’t realize you’d be that quick.”

Anger swiftly turned him to ice. The schedule he had given her had been utterly clear-cut. Not even the unexpected guards and subsequent firefight had delayed him more than forty seconds. “Where are you?” His exovision was showing him a local map with the police cruisers closing on the clinic at Mach eight.

“Er…I’m still in the reception area. You know they have some really nice clothes here, and Ruth Stol has actually been quite useful with styling. Who’d have thought it? I’ve already tried on a couple of these lovely wool—”

“Get the fuck into the capsule! Right fucking now!” he screamed. Tactical software assessed the situation, corresponding with his own instinct. The roof was far too exposed. Another involuntary shudder ran up his legs, and he went with it, tumbling over the edge, totally reliant on his combat software. The program formatted his force field to cushion his landing. Even so, the pain seemed to explode directly into his brain as he thudded into the ground. He rolled over and stumbled to his feet—far too slowly.

“The doors won’t open,” Corrie-Lyn said. “I can’t get to the capsule. The alarm is going off. Wait…Ruth is telling me not to move.”

Aaron groaned as he staggered erratically across the band of lawn surrounding the administration block—not that the trees would provide the slightest cover, not against the kinds of forces heading for him. Seeking darkness was a simple animal instinct.

“Take the bitch out,” he told Corrie-Lyn.

“What?”

“Hit her. Here’s a combat program,” he said as his u-shadow shunted the appropriate file at her. “Go for a disabling blow. Don’t hesitate.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Hit her. And call the capsule over. It can smash through the doors for you.”

“Aaron, can’t I just get the capsule to break in? I’m really not comfortable hitting someone without warning.

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