Sea of Ghosts - Alan Campbell [146]
‘I find the view somewhat spoiled by the acres of burned forest, razor-wire and concrete bunkers surrounding the palace,’ Maskelyne replied. ‘Do you know that a cockerel crows every morning in one of the camps? The sound is always followed by a single shot, and then silence. I can’t help but wonder if it’s one, trained, bird, or if there’s a supply of them.’
Briana closed her eyes for a moment. ‘A supply,’ she said.
‘Did you just ask your associates?’
‘All three thousand of them,’ Briana replied. ‘The great benefit of telepathy is that one is able to obtain information whenever one wishes. A psychic is never surprised.’ She reached the glass doors, opened them and stepped out onto the terrace. There she stopped dead. ‘Where did you get all this stuff?’
Maskelyne joined her. A small collection of Unmer trove lay spread across the flagstones, most of it located amongst potted plants and flower troughs, although he had set out many of the more useful pieces for disassembly on the stone breakfast table. ‘After so many months at sea,’ he said, ‘I find it refreshing to work outdoors.’
‘Work? Where did this trove come from?’
‘The palace storerooms.’ He made a dismissive gesture. ‘The Unmer won’t miss objects you’ve already confiscated. Most of it is simply junk, but there are a few pieces that may prove vital to my research.’
Briana simply stared at him.
‘The Unmer are able to manipulate Space and Time,’ Maskelyne explained. ‘To transfer energies across vast gulfs. I have been trying to determine how they accomplish this.’
‘You were supposed to remain locked in this suite,’ Briana said.
Maskelyne waved his hand irritably. ‘Yes, yes. My point is this: What we perceive as sorcery is merely a method of juggling entropy. The Unmer transmit energy and matter from one place to another, most likely from one universe to another, through some sort of aspacial conduit. The Unmer’s strength lies in their ability to plunder what I have chosen to call cosmic remnants.’
‘How did you get past the guards?’
Maskelyne sighed. ‘You’re not listening. Our present universe is merely the latest configuration of energy and matter formed within a never-ending cycle of cosmic inflation. Like the ripples formed beneath a dripping tap – as the outer circles fade they are replaced by new ones. If my—’
‘Did you bribe someone to bring all this equipment here?’
‘If my theory is correct, then . . .’ He paused and frowned at her. ‘Of course I bribed someone. When dealing with the Haurstaf, it is practically immoral not to bribe someone.’ He smiled thinly. ‘If my theory is correct, it means that certain aspects of Unmer sorcery are not only detrimental to our universe, but completely impossible without assistance from beyond our universe.’
She just looked at him.
‘Imagine a bathtub full of water,’ he said.
She continued to stare at him.
‘Now imagine there are two plugs in the bath, one at either end,’ he went on. ‘When we pull out both plugs, the water begins to drain through both openings at once. If the holes represent vast clusters of matter and the water represents the space between those clusters, then the flow of water represents the force of gravity.’ He glanced around the terrace, looking for something he could draw a diagram with, but there was nothing to hand. ‘In this analogy, the bathwater would flow out, leaving no space between the holes, no cosmos. But what is space? Is it tangible, like matter? Or does it merely represent a sea in which the potential for material interactions exists? What if, as the bath drained, the volume of water it contained did not diminish? What if the area of space between the holes actually stretches? If the holes remain unchanged, the distance between them must increase.’ He nodded. ‘So the universe expands.’
‘I really wish I hadn’t come here,’ Briana said.
Maskelyne walked over to the terrace balustrade and sat down. ‘Have you ever wondered how the Unmer came to possess the ability to remove matter, to turn flesh and stone into