Chapter 12 Chapter Eleven

When the spacecraft landed, I woke up.Hyperion, I thought, still trying to tear my thoughts away from the fragments of the dream. The cabin door was thrown open, and the thick, turbid atmosphere of the cabin was replaced by cool, thin air, and the young captain wished us luck and headed out.I followed Hunter out the door, down a standard man-dock ramp, through the shield wall, and onto the tarmac. Night has fallen, I don't know what time the local time is, whether the morning and evening line has just swept across the planet or is coming soon, but it feels very late, and the air seems to have a strong smell of night.The drizzle is falling softly, light and fluttering drizzle, with the salty smell of the sea and the fresh smell of moist vegetation.Field lights blinded the distant defenses, and a score of bright pinnacles cast a halo toward the low clouds.Six or seven young men in Marine Corps camouflage were quickly unloading the transport from the dropship, and I saw the young captain accompanying me briskly address an officer thirty yards to our right.The tiny spaceport, a colonial spaceport built during the earliest days of the Exile, looks like something out of a history book.Primitive catapult shafts and landing plazas stretched for more than a mile toward the vast, dark hills to the north. Rocket platforms and service towers watched over us for twenty military space shuttles and small battleships. Standard military buildings with arrays of antennas, violet containment fields, and a chaotic chaos of skimmers and craft.

Following Hunter's line of sight, I noticed a skimmer flying towards us.The flowing light of the hull illuminated its parachutes, one of which was painted with blue-and-gold geodesics, the symbol of the Overlord; The blade was scraped away, and a violent mist curtain rose up.The skimmer landed on the ground, the plexiglass hatch folded open, and a man stepped out of it, walking quickly across the tarmac toward us. He held out his hand to Hunter. "Mr. Hunter? I'm Theo Lane." Hunter shook hands with him and nodded at me again. "Nice to meet you, Governor. This is Joseph Seven."

I shook hands with Ren, and the moment I touched his hand, a shock that seemed familiar came from it.Out of the hallucinatory fog of the consul's memory I remembered Theo, Wren, the days when the young man was vice-consul; He had greeted them all as he bid farewell and headed upstream aboard the floating cruise ship, the Benares.After only six days, the governor seemed to be growing older.But the unruly lock of hair on his forehead remained the same, the ancient glasses he wore remained the same, and the light but firm handshake remained the same. "I'm really glad that you can land on our planet at this time," Governor Wren said to Hunter, "I have something to report to the CEO."

"That's what we're here for," Hunter said.He squinted his eyes and looked up at the sky. It was still raining. "We have about an hour. Is there somewhere we can dry our clothes?" The governor gave a bright smile. "This land is a lunatic asylum. Even at 5:20 in the morning, the consulate is surrounded. But I know a place." He gestured towards the skimmer. As we took off, I noticed two naval skimmers abreast of us, but even so, I was amazed that the Governor of a Protector Planet would be driving his vehicle himself, without 24/7 bodyguards by his side .Then I remembered what the Consul had told the other pilgrims about Theo Wren—about the young man's remarkable efficiency and humility—and realized that such an understated image was just right for a diplomat .

The sun was rising as we departed from the airport and headed towards town.The low clouds, illuminated by the light from the ground, shone brilliantly, and the peaks to the north shone with all kinds of colors, bright green, violet, and russet, and the sky below the clouds to the east was a beautiful and vivid color. Green and lapis lazuli, as seen in the dream.Hyperion, I thought, feeling a thick tension and excitement tighten in my throat. Resting my head on the rain-stained roof, I realized that the dizziness and confusion I felt at that moment was partly due to the weakened connection to the data network ground.Although the connection is still there, it is now mainly carried by microwave and super-optical channels, but I have never had such a weak experience-if I used to swim in the ocean of data networks, then I am now really We're in shallow water, perhaps a better analogy to a tide puddle, and the water gets shallower as we leave the airport's atmospheric envelope and its rudimentary micromesh.I forced myself to turn my attention to what Hunter and Governor Wren were discussing.

"You can see these shacks and huts," Wren said, tilting the fuselage slightly so we could clearly see the mountains and valleys that separated the airport from the outskirts of the capital. Shacks and huts are too polite names for these wretched things of fibrous plastic panels, canvas sheets, packing crates, and shards of scum, which dot the hills and valleys.Obviously, if you used to have to drive from the city to the airport, the seven or eight miles must have been a pleasant journey. Used for firewood and building houses, the lawn was trampled under the trampling of footsteps, turning into a mudflat where not a single blade of grass grew.In this city with 70,000 to 80,000 refugees, wherever you can see, the land has been looted and devastated.Puffs of smoke from thousands of fires made to cook breakfast drifted toward the clouds, and everywhere I could see people moving, children running barefoot, women waking from streams. The water must have been seriously polluted. The men either squatted in the vast open fields, or lined up at the door of the makeshift toilet.I noticed that the road was lined with high riot wire fences and violet containment barriers, with military checkpoints visible every half a mile.Rows of camouflaged army vehicles and skimmers are shuttling back and forth along the main road and low-level flight path.

"...Most of the refugees are natives," Governor Rennes said, "but there are also many landowners who were forced to move from the southern cities and the large fiber plastic plantations in the Aquila Continent." "Are they here because they think the Ousters are going to invade?" Hunter asked. Ren glanced at Yueshi's assistant. "In the beginning, people panicked at the thought that the Time Tombs were opening," he said. "People were totally convinced that if the Shrike was released, they would hunt them." "Is that so?" I asked.

The young man turned in his place and turned his head to look at me. "The Third Corps of the Self-Defense Forces went to the north seven months ago," he said, "and did not return." "You said they were trying to get away from the Shrike in the first place," Hunter said, "and why did the others come?" "They're waiting to evacuate," Wren said. "Everyone knows what the Ousters...and the Overlord army...are doing in Brescia. They don't want to be here while this is happening to Hyperion .” "You know very well that evacuation is only the last resort of the military department?" Hunter asked.

"Yes. But we won't announce that to the refugees. There have been terrible riots. The Shrike Temple has been destroyed... surrounded by mobs and someone using a controlled plasma beam stolen from the Great Bear Mine Shooting. Last week there were attacks on the consulate and the airport, and there was a food riot in Jacktown." Hunter nodded, looking down, the city flew by.The buildings are all low, and few have more than five floors. Their white and soft walls are shining gorgeously in the slanting light of the morning.I looked over Hunter's shoulder and saw the low mountain, and the statue of Sad King Billy was looking down in thought over the valley.The Hawley River meanders in the heart of the old city and gradually straightens out to the invisible Bridle Mountains to the north, and another tributary winds into Weirwood Swamp to the southeast, where I know it will gradually widen , along the mane plateau, the river valley triangle is derived.Aside from the pathetic clutter of the ghettos, the city looked deserted, quiet and peaceful, but just as we started descending towards the river, I noticed military transport vehicles, tanks, armored personnel carriers and GAVs, which had At intersections, some park in parks.The camouflage polymer shell is intentionally not activated, so the machines appear even more dangerous.Then I saw refugees in the city too: makeshift tents in the squares and alleys, thousands of sleeping bags lined up along the roads, like a long line of dull-colored parcels of clothing waiting to be picked up and washed.

"Two years ago, Keats had a population of two hundred thousand," said Governor Wren. "Now, with that hovel-city, we have almost three and a half million." "I thought there were less than five million people on the entire planet," Hunter said, "counting the natives." "Exactly," said Wren. "As you saw, everything was destroyed. The other two big cities, Port Romance and Andymirn, also took in most of the remaining refugees. The fiber on the Skyhawk The plastic plantations have been emptied, re-occupied by jungles and flame forests, and the agricultural belts along the Mane and Nine Tails have lost their productivity—even if they are still producing, they can't bring food to the market because the entire city The transportation system is paralyzed."

Hunter watched the river gradually approaching us. "What does the government do all day besides eating?" Theo Lane smiled. "What am I doing, you ask? Well, about three years ago, various crises had already begun to emerge. The first step back then was to dissolve the Zemstvo Council and formally incorporate Hyperion into the Protectorate. If the I have executive powers, and I will shift my focus to nationalize the freight companies and airship lines that still exist—now we rely on skimmers for military activity—and disband the Self-Defense Forces.” "Disband it?" said Hunter. "I thought you'd use it." Governor Rennes shook his head.He lightly touched the master controller calmly, and the skimmer circled down towards the center of the ancient city of Keats. "They're not only useless," he said, "but they're also dangerous. I was almost furious when the Combat III went north and disappeared for no apparent reason. Once the Army, Army, and Navy landed, I'd disarm them immediately." The remaining thugs of the Self-Defense Forces are armed. When it comes to burning, killing and looting, the Self-Defense Forces are the main instigators. When we arrive, we can have breakfast here and talk." The skimmer dropped low over the river, circled one last time, and stopped softly in the courtyard of an ancient building, built of stone, with colonnades and fantastic windows: this is Cicero bar.I recognized the place before Lane had introduced it to Lee Hunter.Pilgrim's journey has been here - an old restaurant / bar / hotel in the heart of Jack Town, a total of four sub-buildings, each nine floors, with balconies, window walls and dark weirwood corridors on one side It overlooks the slow-flowing Hawley River, and on the other side you can see the narrow streets and alleys of Jack's Town.The Cicero Bar is older than Sad Billy's monolithic portrait, and those dark cubicles and deep underground wine cellars were the true home of the Consul during his exile. Stan Leveski received us at the courtyard gate.He was rather tall and well-built, with a face as dark and finely lined as the stone walls of his tavern.He has also been the master of Cicero since his great-grandfather, grandfather, and father successively ran the Cicero bar. "You wretch!" the giant yelled, patting the Governor, the planet's de facto dictator, on the shoulder with such force that Theo almost lost his balance. "You get up early for a change, dude? Bring friends for breakfast? Welcome to Cicero!" Welcomed by Stan Leveski's massive hand engulfing Hunter's and mine, I must not Check your fingers and joints for injuries. "Or is it later for both of you - Ring Time?" he rumbled. "Maybe you can have a drink, or a lunch!" Lee Hunter narrowed his eyes at the bar owner. "How do you know we're from the Web?" Levetsky burst into a fit of manic laughter that sent the weather vane on the roof spinning. "Ha! Difficult to deduce, eh? You arrived with Theo at sunrise—did you think he'd drive here with anybody? Still in cardigans, but we ain't got a sheep here. You are not from the military, nor are you a tycoon from a fiber plastic plantation... I know them all! According to the above inference, you teleported to the ship from the ring network, and then landed here, wanting to eat something good. So, you Do you want breakfast, or a big drink?" Theo Lane sighed. "Find us a quiet corner, Stan. I want bacon and eggs and salt fish. How about gentlemen?" "Just coffee," Hunter said. "Me too," I said.Now we followed the boss through corridors, up a short flight of stairs, down a wrought-iron ramp, and through corridors.The place was lower, darker, and more smoky than the ones I had seen in my dreams, but far more charming.A few regulars looked up as we walked by, but the place is far less packed now than I remember.Apparently Wren had sent troops to wipe out the last handful of SDF savages who had occupied the place.Passing a tall, narrow window, I tested that hypothesis, for I caught a glimpse of a Army Corps armored personnel carrier parked in an alley, with soldiers lounging on top and nearby, carrying The weapon was apparently loaded with bullets. "This way," Leveski said, waving us out onto a small porch that hangs high above the Hawley River, looking out over the gabled roofs and stone towers of Jack's Town. "Dommy will be bringing you your breakfast and coffee in two minutes." He disappeared quickly...quickly for such a behemoth. Hunter glanced at the comlog. "According to the plan, there are about forty-five minutes before the landing ship takes us back. Let's talk." Ren nodded, took off his glasses, and rubbed his eyes.I realized he must have been up all night last night...maybe several all nights. "Okay," he said, putting his glasses back on. "What does Lord Yueshi want to know?" Just then a short man with skin as white as parchment and yellow eyes brought us deep thick mugs of coffee and set down a platter of Wren's food.Hunter waited for him to leave before speaking. “The executive wants to know what you think is the priority right now,” Hunter said. “She also wants to know if you can survive if the war is prolonged.” Ren didn't answer right away. He ate for a while, then took a long sip of coffee, and looked at Hunter eagerly.Tastes like real coffee, much better than most rings. "Leaving aside the first question," Wren said. "Tell me in what time unit the extension is calculated." "week." "It's possible if it's based on weeks, but if it's based on months, there's no way." The governor tasted the salted fish. "You have also seen our economic situation. It's okay now, there is a food riot every week. If it weren't for the military airdropping supplies, we might have riots every day. There are no exits in the quarantine area. Half of the refugees want to find the Church of the Shrike and killed the priests, and half tried to convert to Shrike sects before the Shrike found them." "Have you found the priests?" Hunter asked. "No. We are sure they escaped when the temple exploded, but the authorities have been unable to locate them. They are said to have gone north to the Fortress of Time, a stone castle in the High Grassland where the Tombs of Time stand. superior." I know better than he does.At least, I know of no Shrike priests encountered by the pilgrims during their brief stay at the fortress.But there were traces of massacres. "As far as our priorities," Theo Lane said, "number one is evacuation. Number two is removing the Ouster threat. Number three is helping eliminate the fear of the Shrike." Lee Hunter leaned back against the oiled wood.Fog rose from the heavy cup in his hand. "At this moment, evacuation is not feasible—" "Why?" Ren asked immediately.The question shot out like a hellwhip arrow. "Master Yueshi does not have enough administrative power...at this time...cannot persuade the parliament and the global ring network to accept five million refugees—" "Fart," said the governor, "the first year Maui entered the sanctuary, twice the current number of tourists flocked in. At the same time, it destroyed a unique set of planetary ecology. They can send us to Armagast or some desert planet until our fear of war passes." Hunter shook his head.His basset hound eyes looked more melancholy than usual. "It's not just a question of logic," he said, "and it's not a question of politics. It's a..." "The Shrike problem," Wren said.He broke off a piece of bacon. "The Shrike was the real reason." "Yes. And the Web's fear of Ouster invasion." The governor smiled. "Then you are afraid that if a teleportation entrance is established here and we are allowed to leave, a large group of three-meter-high Ousters will land without anyone noticing and invade the defense line?" Hunter sipped his coffee. "No," he said, "but it does present a perfect opportunity for intrusion. Every teleportation population is a gateway into the Ring. The Advisory Council has warned of this." "Okay," said the young man, with a mouthful of food still in his mouth, "then let's evacuate with a spaceship. Isn't the task force here for this purpose in the first place?" "That's the ostensible reason," Hunter said. "Now, our real purpose is to defeat the Ousters and bring Hyperion back to the Ring fully." "What about the Shrike threat?" "It's going to be . . . suppressed," Hunter said.A small group of men and women passed the corridor we were in, and he fell silent. I glanced up, started to turn my attention back to the table, and flexed my neck again.The group had already walked down the corridor, out of sight. "Isn't that Melio Alandez?" I said, interrupting Governor Wren. "What? Oh, Dr. Alondez. Yes. Do you know him, Mr. Seven?" Lee Hunter stared at me angrily, but I ignored it. "I know," I said to Ryan, even though I had never actually met Alain Dezie. "What was he doing in Hyperion?" "Six months ago local time, his research team landed here because of the plan proposed by the Liberty Island Imperial University to do additional research on the Time Tomb." "But the tombs are no longer open to researchers and tourists." I said. "Yes. But their instruments - we allow weekly transmissions of data through the Consulate's hyperluminescent transmitters - have shown changes in the anti-entropy field in the area surrounding the Time Tombs. Imperial University knows that the Time Tombs are opening...if that's the change If you mean it... so they sent the top researchers of the Ring Network here to study." "But you didn't agree to their research license?" I said. Theo, Ren's smile didn't show any warmth. "Executive Lord Yueshi did not agree. Isolation of the Time Tomb is a direct order from the Jingti Center. If it were me, I would deny the pilgrims' admission. Instead, give Dr. Alan Dezi's group priority access first." .” He turned to Hunter again. Sorry to excuse me. ’ I said, slipping out of the cubicle. Walking down two corridors, I immediately found Alundzi and his companions—three women and four men, whose clothes and physique suggested that they came from different planets in the Web.The seven were hunched over their breakfast, reading the science newsletter, arguing, using scientific terms so abstruse that even a Talmudian would be jealous. "Dr. Alandzi?" I said. "What's the matter?" He looked up.He is 20 years older than I remember, about 60 years old, already in the middle age.But the face was as handsome as ever, with the same tanned skin, firm jaw, black curly hair, graying only at the temples, and the same keen hazel eyes.I now understand how a young female graduate student could fall in love with him so quickly. "My name is Joseph Seven," I said. "You don't know me, but I do know a friend of yours . . . Rachel Winterberg." Alun Dezi stood up immediately, apologized to the others, and then took my elbow and left. Finally, we found an empty table under the round window of a small bedroom, from which we looked out, You can see the red-tiled roof.He let go of my arm and looked me up and down carefully, paying particular attention to the ring net costume on my body.He turned my wrist over again, looking for the blue marks from Paulson's treatment. "You're too young," he said, "unless you've known Rachel since she was a kid." "Actually, I know her father best," I said. Dr. Alandzi exhaled, then nodded. "Of course," he said, "where's Saul now? I've been looking for him through the consulate for months. The officials in Hebron just said he's moved." He looked me up and down again as before. . "Did you know about Rachel's...illness?" "I know," I said.Merlin's disease makes her age at any time, and her memory will gradually be lost with each passing hour of each day.Melio Arandezi was once part of these memories. "I know that you visited her in Bana Fields about fifteen standard years ago." Alan Dezi showed a painful expression. "That was a mistake," he said, "I thought I could have a good chat with Sol and Sarai. But when I saw her..." He shook his head. "Who are you? Do you know where Saul and Rachel are now? It's her birthday in three days." I nod. "Her first and last birthday." I looked around.The corridor was completely silent, and there was an indistinct laughter from far away on the next floor. "I'm here, sent by the Chief Executive Agency, to find out the facts," I said. "I have some news about Saul Winterberg and his daughter, who've been in the Time Tombs." Aron Dezie looked like I had hit him in the solar plexus. "Here? Hyperion?" He looked out at the roof, and after a while, he said again, "I should have realized this...Although Thor always refuses to come back here...but after Sarai passed away... ..." He looked at me. "Are you in touch with him? She... are they okay?" I shake my head. "I have neither radio nor data link with them at the moment," I said. "I know they're safe. The question is, what did you find? What about your group? The data that the Time Tombs changed might be of interest to them." survival is vital.” Melio Arundez ran his fingers through his hair. "If they'll let us go there! That damn stupid bureaucracy, short-sighted... You said you were sent by Yueshi's government, can you explain to them that we must get there, which is very important." "I'm just a messenger," I said, "but tell me why it's so important, and I'll do my best to get the message across." Alang Dezi's big hand compared an invisible circle in the air.His nervousness and anger were palpable. "For three years, the data has been obtained through telemetry streams, which the Consulate has allowed to send once a week through their precious Transmitter. It shows that the shell of the anti-entropy field - the tide of time - is slowly And the decay continues, both inside the tomb and around the perimeter. It's weird and illogical, but it's steady. Immediately after the decay started, our group was authorized to come here. About six months We've been here before and found religious evidence that the Time Tombs were opening...and now in a stable state...but four days after we arrived, none of the instruments were sending data. Everything stopped. We plead with that bastard Wren Let us go, just to calibrate the instrument, but he won't allow us to do it ourselves, not even our request to set up a new sensor. "I didn't get anything. I didn't have permission to teleport. I couldn't get in touch with the university... Even now, with the spaceship of the military department, it is not difficult to get in touch, but it is not allowed. We tried to go upstream without permission, But some navy thugs from Wren intercepted us at the Kara Locks and brought us back in chains. I was in prison for four days. Now they allow us to move around Keats, but if we again If you leave the city, you don't know how long you will be imprisoned." Alang Dezi leaned forward. "Can you help?" "I don't know," I said, "I want to help the Winterboroughs. Maybe it would be best if you could take your group to the ruins. Do you know when the Tombs of Time will open?" This time the physicist made an angry gesture. "That requires us to have new data!" he sighed. "No, we don't know. They could have been opened, or they could be six months away." "You said 'open,'" I said, "and didn't you mean physically open?" "Of course not. The Time Tombs have been physically open since their discovery six standard centuries ago. And by open, I mean lowering the veil of time around them so that their regions are no longer hidden within, Bringing the whole complex into an era that passes with the local time." "By 'local' you mean...?" "I mean the universe, of course." "Are you sure those graves are going backwards in time...from our future?" I asked. "Going backwards in time, yes," said Aron Dezie, "but whether it's from the future, we can't say. We're not even sure what 'future' means in current physics terms. It could be a The probability of the series being sinusoidally distributed, it may also be the multiverse that determines the branching, or even—" "But whatever it is," I said, "where did the Time Tombs and the Shrike come from?" "We know for sure about Time Tombs," said the physicist, "but nothing about the Shrike. My own guess is that, like other religious beliefs, it arose out of a desire to explain superstitious phenomena." A mythical figure." "Even after what happened to Rachel," I asked, "you still don't believe it exists?" Melio Arendez glared at me. "Rachel has Merlin's disease," he said, "a disease that causes anti-entropic changes in people. She was not bitten by some mysterious monster." "The bite of time is never mysterious," I said, marveling at myself for answering with such feeble austere philosophy. "The question is—would the Shrike, or whatever power dwells in the Time Tombs, send Rachel back to the 'local' order of time?" Alun Dezi nodded, and then shifted his gaze to the roof.The sun had already hidden in the clouds, and the tone of the morning was monotonous, and the red tiles were irradiated and faded a lot.It started raining again. "The question is," I said, again amazed at my own words, "do you still love her?" The physicist turned his head slowly and glared at me angrily.I sensed that he wanted to fight back—maybe punch me—and the urge took shape, surged, and faded.He reached into his coat pocket and showed me a hologram of an attractive woman with graying hair and two children in their late teens. "My wife and children," said Melio Arundez, "are waiting for me on the Arrow of Restoration." He pointed his thick fingers at me. "Even if Rachel... gets better today, by the time she grows up again and is the age we first met, I'll be eighty-two years old." He dropped his fingers and put the hologram back in his pocket. "But, yes," he said, "I still love her." "Are you ready?" After a while, a voice broke the silence.I looked up and saw Hunter and Theo Lane standing in the doorway. "Ten minutes after landing the spacecraft will take off," Hunter said. I got up and shook hands with Melio Arandesi. "I'll do my best," I said. Governor Wren has ordered one of his escort skimmers to return us to the airport while he returns to the consulate.The military skimmer was not much more comfortable than his consular plane, but it was much faster.We fastened our seat belts and sat in the ring seat of the landing craft, and Hunter asked, "What are you going to do with that physicist?" "Just catching up with a stranger," I said. Hunter frowned. "What did you promise him to do your best?" I felt the lander rumble, jerk, then jump up, the ship's catapult toss us into the sky. "I told him I'd try to get him to visit a sick friend," I said. Hunter was still frowning, but I got out a sketch pad and started scribbling the scene of Cicero's bar.Fifteen minutes later, we docked on the jump ship. As soon as I walked out of the portal, I entered the administration department of the government building, which shocked me a little.A step further and you're in the Parliament Gallery, where Meina Gladstone is still addressing a full leadership cadre.Imaging cameras and microphones broadcast her speech to the world and to the 100 billion waiting people. I glance at the timer.It was ten thirty-eight in the morning.We were only gone for ninety minutes.