Cowl by Neal Asher Page A

Traveller stated succinctly and by the man’s mien Tack knew that to push him further might result in renewed violence.
    More advanced, maybe, but certainly more bad tempered , thought Tack. However, when Traveller now glanced round, his expression changed utterly. Tack registered frowning surprise in the man’s face, then a hint of amusement. Traveller explained further, ‘Only life can travel in time and time travel is only possible in the time life exists. It is a self-fulfilling prophecy. Reality is patterned in circles, spheres, convolute and twisting dimensions. It is not required to be amenable to your logic. The linear mind finds this difficult to grasp.’
    Tack felt the urge to make some sarcastic quip, but quickly repressed it.
    Traveller added, ‘The limit, for life, of travel into the past is the Nodus. It is that point in the Precambrian when multi-cellular life first evolved.’
    â€˜Why is multi-cellular life the limit? Why not single cells?’ asked Tack and waited, half-expecting to have his nose set bleeding again.
    â€˜Ah, a sign of intelligence at last.’
    Tack couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief.
    Traveller went on, ‘That point is much debated. The energy gradient steepens into those aeons, and time travel is possible but unfeasible. The answer is connected with the quantity of living matter extant on Earth, and the amount of vorpal energy that generates.’
    Something dubious in that explanation , thought Tack. ‘I do not know what vorpal energy is,’ he said.

    It seemed Traveller did not attack him when he asked questions, no matter how they were posed. The first beating must have been only to disable him for capture, and the second time he was struck was because of his voicing sarcasm.
    â€˜I could give you the equations, but you do not have the weight of knowledge to absorb them. It is just a kind of energy generated by the slow interaction of complex molecules. It was discovered some hundreds of years after your time when separate sciences were beginning to meld together.’
    Tack surprised himself by beginning to understand. He had forgotten nothing of their discussion in the barn and now a picture was building in his mind. He had a vision of time sprouting from that point called the Nodus, branching and multiplying between facing mirrors of probability, expanding from one point towards infinity. This vision carried emotional weight and it frightened him.
    As they finally reached the forest, it became evident that, behind the clouds, the sun was setting. Here, once they had pushed a little way in, they found the ground thick with pine needles and dead wood, and only sparsely scattered with snow.
    â€˜Here. You may take off that pack now.’
    It was dark under the trees and Tack was very tired. His training and his superb physical condition had carried him this far, but even he could not sustain indefinitely the kind of punishment he had received over the last—he glanced at his watch—twenty-five hours.
    â€˜We light a fire now, eat and rest. You will take the first watch for three of your standard hours, but understand that there are only beasts here, so it is likely that the most that will be required of you is that you keep the fire going. You understand?’
    In this forest glade, sheltered from an icy wind that propelled flecks of snow as from a grit blaster, they built a cairn of wood, which Traveller lit with a weapon only briefly revealed to Tack. The gun itself looked quite silly and ineffectual, but focused enough energy in that instant to incinerate half of the woodpile and send a huge cloud of white smoke ascending into the trees. The two of them then piled on more fuel and huddled close around the blaze.
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    POLLY OPENED GRITTY EYES, but her vision was blurred and it took a moment for her to discern Frank standing over her. She sat up slowly and looked around. She found herself on a bed in cramped