Asterion Noir: The Complete Collection (Amaranthe Collections Book 4)

by G. S. Jennsen

  She took a deep breath and double-checked the state of her internal defenses. The power required to send snippets of code a few meters couldn’t be that high, could it? She’d be fine. “Delacrai’s access code is αβαθ βθαα βαβββ θα αθ.”

  “Nika, what are you—?”

  She reached in with both hands and pinched the conduit on either side of the short between her fingers.

  Her teeth clattered together like banging cymbals. Her fingernails glowed white, and it felt as though her heart stuttered over two beats. “Input. It. Now.”

  “Done!”

  Let go, Nika. All you have to do is let go. She focused on her fingers, which seemed to be glued to the conduit, and directed every conscious process to willing them apart millimeter by—

  —she flew backward across the room and slammed into what remained of a wall.

  “Are you all right?” Weiss reached for her.

  “Nobody touch me!” Her eyes darted around in a panicked search for anything she could use to ground herself—she crawled across the floor to the d-gate and flattened both palms against the rubberized frame that protected it from power surges.

  Every muscle in her body unclenched as the overloaded nerve signals dissipated. Her legs had the consistency of jelly as she stumbled to her feet and met four stunned gazes. “So that’s what being electrocuted feels like.”

  Weiss pursed his lips, then brought a hand to his jaw. “You, um…your eyes are still sparking a little.”

  She nodded unevenly and motioned to the now active d-gate. “Time’s wasting. Let’s move.”

  50

  * * *

  MIRAI

  “EIGHT YEARS AGO, the Guides began a program of abducting people from minor outposts on fringe exploratory worlds. The program began small—one here, a few months later one there—but the pace has steadily increased. The companies responsible for the outposts were spun one of a variety of stories to cover up the kidnappings: a cosmic or mechanical accident, a government confiscation of the outpost’s work, and so on.”

  “Hey, I’ve had two, no, three of those happen to companies under my jurisdiction in the last few years.”

  Maris nodded at Eamon Timoush, an Industry Advisor from Synra. “I suspect most of you have, even if you didn’t recognize it as such at the time. Five years ago, Nika Kirumase identified a disturbing pattern in outpost disappearances and began investigating. For her trouble—” she shifted toward the entrance “—going somewhere, Gemina?”

  Gemina Kail froze in the foyer, where she’d been creeping toward the door. “Something urgent has come up at the office. I need to see to it.”

  “That can’t be. Or perhaps it can be, but if so, you would not know about it, given how this loft is currently shielded by a field that blocks all communications.”

  Exclamations and protests broke out among those gathered, but Maris smiled smoothly and gestured for calm. “It’s a necessary and temporary precaution. Until you hear the whole story, you might do something foolish you will later regret. Also, Gemina, you’re not getting out that door, so don’t make a scene trying. However, since you’ll be staying, why don’t you tell everyone what happened next? I believe you possess firsthand knowledge of this part of the story.”

  Gemina shot daggers of fury in her direction. “Fuck you.”

  “Fine. Then sit down and behave. For Nika’s trouble, the Guides ordered her psyche-wiped—”

  “What? No. She stepped down and underwent voluntary retirement and reinitialization.” Selene Panetier, the Justice Advisor from Namino, leapt out of her chair for added emphasis.

  Maris had always liked the woman better than the rest of the Justice Advisors, excepting Adlai. “No, Selene, she did not. Our dearest friend was psyche-wiped and—” she glanced over at Perrin “—how did it play out exactly?”

  Perrin arched an eyebrow and twirled a chiffon ruffle with her hand. “Dumped in a side alley street in a rainstorm in the middle of the night.”

  “That’s right.” Maris turned back to the group, relieved to see an excess of horrified expressions. “Our Guides did this to one of our own. To the best one of us all. They did it to protect a secret. Gemina? Want to add anything?”

  Renewed fury accompanied arms crossed tightly over the woman’s chest. So petulant. “No? Ah well. I’d hoped this could become an interactive presentation, but, alas, Gemina doesn’t want to play. Fast forward three more years. Outposts continue to be raided and the abductions concealed, but apparently it’s no longer enough. The Guides arbitrarily make formerly innocent actions illegal. They increase the punishments for minor crimes. An insurgency named NOIR rises to protest these actions, and Justice gets busy. Right, Blake?”

  Blake wore an inscrutable countenance, giving away nothing. “Self-evidently.”

  “Of course. But eventually even that wasn’t enough—enough for what, you ask? We’re almost there, don’t worry. The Guides, it seems, needed more criminals. So they designed a virutox. You may have heard rumors about it recently. It alters an individual’s core personality programming, destroying critical thinking algorithms, impulse control routines and emotional responses. The Guides arranged for 15,000 of Dashiel Ridani’s limb augments to be stolen and the virutox implanted in them. Then they shipped the augments to merchants across the Dominion and unleashed the virutox upon our people.”

  She paused to take a sip of sake. “We’re missing a few guests this evening. I assume everyone has heard about the tragic events at the Chosek Embassy involving Advisor Rowan. Cameron, did the Guides tell you that Iona’s actions were the result of her being accidentally infected with this virutox they set loose?”

  Cameron Breckel blinked. “No.”

  “Just an oversight, I’m sure. Yes, she fell victim to the virutox. I doubt the Guides intended this, but it turns out their creation works far better than they anticipated. It’s filled up Justice’s cells across every Dominion world. It’s filled up Zaidam Bastille. So what a curious thing, then, that Zaidam Bastille is empty.”

  She let the gasps and confusion ripple around the room for several seconds before continuing. “Gemina, why is Zaidam Bastille empty?”

  “You arrogant, self-righteous bitch. You’re so proud of yourself, aren’t you? But you’ve killed us all, you know. Everything we’ve done, we’ve done to save the Dominion. Now it will all be for nothing.”

  “Why is Zaidam Bastille empty?”

  Gemina rolled her eyes. “It’s fucked now, anyway, so it doesn’t matter if I tell you. Eight years ago, the Shorai encountered an alien stronghold on the opposite edge of the galaxy from Kiyora. The crew was killed instantly, but the aliens recovered the bodies and studied them. When the Shorai stopped reporting in and failed to respond to communications, the Guides sent another ship to investigate. Its crew was captured and taken hostage so they could deliver a message back to the Guides.

  “It consisted of the following: ‘We are Rasu. We command hundreds of galaxies and millions of worlds. Our forces are legion, our power without peer. You will kneel before us, then you will die, unless you meet our demands. Your forms are useful to us. Deliver such number of your species to us as we require, alive but without conscious thought, when we require them, and we will not make your corner of this galaxy a priority. We might, in time, neglect it altogether. Refuse to comply, and your species will have seen its last sunrise.’ ”

  Stunned silence fell…and the next second shattered in a cacophony of exclamations and questions. Maris understood full well the response—though she’d internalized what must have happened eight years earlier in the broadest strokes, the chilling, emotionless evil of the Rasu’s message shook her deeply.

  She cleared her throat and tried to regain control. “I understand. I feel the same as you, with as many questions. Please, give Gemina another moment.” She gestured to Gemina. “Continue.”

  “The Guides agreed to the demand. What else could they do?”

  Selene interjected.
“They simply believed these Rasu when they said they were all-powerful?”

  “Yes, they did. If you’d seen the stronghold the Shorai stumbled upon, you’d believe them, too. The sum total of our military and police forces are a gnat they can swat away without even noticing. So, yes, we’ve been taking people—criminals first, and those least likely to be missed. They are placed in stasis chambers and delivered to the Rasu every two to four months.”

  Gemina sighed. “But the Rasu’s demands have continued to grow. With every delivery, they insist upon more bodies. The Guides have acted as they must, trying to manage the situation without causing a Dominion-wide panic. Trying to maintain order and calm, while working to find some way out of the trap. Some way to save our civilization. But now it’s all going wrong, thanks to Nika Fucking Kirumase and her lap-dog Ridani.”

  Maris bristled at the casual insulting of her friends, but she kept her expression and stance professional, as she always did. Her voice rose forcibly above the growing uproar. “No, Gemina. It’s all going wrong because the Guides have made bad decision after bad decision ever since the first Rasu demand. They should have told us, their most trusted Advisors. They should have asked for our help.

  “In their isolation and their conceit, they have come to believe they are the only ones who are wise, and they’ve forgotten how clever and ingenious every Asterion can be. They’ve lost their consciences, and now their very souls. In their panicked attempts to prevent the citizens from panicking, they’ve lost their moral compass.

  “Do you all know why Dashiel isn’t here tonight telling this story himself? After all, he knows the details better than anyone save Nika herself. He’s not here because the Guides had him kidnapped, and now he is being forcibly interrogated and tortured inside the Platform, after which he, too, will be psyche-wiped. We Advisors are as disposable to the Guides as a first-gen store clerk.”

  Selene again leapt up, this time with Cameron following suit. “We have to stop them.”

  “It’s all right. It won’t happen. As we speak, Adlai is rescuing Dashiel, with the help of Nika and our new friends in NOIR.” She nodded in acknowledgement at Perrin.

  “If Nika was psyche-wiped, how is she helping?”

  “Wait, NOIR? How are they involved?”

  Maris chuckled despite the direness of this night. “That, my friend, is a far longer story—”

  “Oh, shit.”

  “Yes, Blake?”

  “Lynch Gemina if you want to, but don’t lynch me. I didn’t know. The Guides have used me, like they’ve used all of us.”

  Gemina growled at him. “Spineless turncoat.”

  You said it yourself, Gemina. You’ve lost.”

  “I’ve lost?”

  Maris frowned. “Blake, what have you done?”

  “On my way here, I received a report of a disturbance at Mirai Tower. The Guides sent me to Mirai to reestablish law and order, and that’s what I’ve been trying to do. I ordered two hunter squads with AEVs to the Tower with instructions to subdue and contain the disturbance by any means necessary.”

  You thoughtless ass.”

  “Remove the communications block. Let me call them off.”

  Maris hesitated—then spun around when someone grasped her arm.

  Perrin shook her head. “No. He might be lying and intending to warn the Guides or even order a hunter squad here. Regardless, if he sent in the reinforcements before he arrived, it’s too late to call them off. Either Nika and the others handled them, or they didn’t. I don’t trust any of these people, but I especially don’t trust him. We can’t risk him getting out a message, not when the wrong message can still turn the tide against our friends.”

  Maris smiled. “You are made of far tougher programming than you let on.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are.” She redirected her attention to Blake. “Let us hope you haven’t caused irreparable losses tonight. Perrin is correct, however. No comms.”

  “It’s your decision. I was merely trying to help.” Blake stood, glass in hand. “I’m headed to the kitchen for a refill.”

  He walked half the length of the dinner table—and abruptly lunged for the flower arrangement at its center.

  Perrin rushed forward, one arm extended, as streams of electricity leapt from her fingertips through the air. The vase shattered. Blake collapsed to the floor.

  Gasps filled the air, and a couple of chairs were overturned as people scrambled backward.

  “In my bag, there’s a braid of cord. Get it and bring it to me.”

  Maris credited herself for the fact that her state of frozen shock lasted a scant two seconds. On the third she moved swiftly to Perrin’s bag, which they’d tucked away in a corner behind a dracaena plant, and retrieved a bundle of flint-hued fiber.

  By the time she returned, Selene was helping Perrin roll Blake onto his stomach while the others looked on uncertainly. Nobody seemed to know how to react. Frankly, this was a blessing.

  “Everyone stay calm and let us handle our troublesome guest.” No one argued, and her pointed gaze sought out Gemina.

  The woman held her hands in the air and crossed one leg over the other. “He was willing to serve me up for a lynching. I’m happy to do the same for him.”

  No honor among thieves, as it were. Maris retrieved the communications blocker from where it had landed on the floor then picked her way through scattered glass shards to kneel beside Perrin and hand her the fiber.

  “Thanks.” Perrin held Blake’s arms together behind his back and began winding the fiber around them in a crisscrossing pattern.

  Meanwhile, Selene rummaged around in his pockets. She came up with a retracted blade and a device that looked similar to the small stunner Perrin had given Maris earlier in the evening.

  “I appreciate the help.” Perrin looped the fiber vertically a final time then held the two ends together. With a faint glow they fused together more completely than any lock. Fascinating.

  Selene nodded curtly, then discreetly checked over the restraints. “I don’t know what his game is, but I don’t like how he’s playing it. I’m Selene, by the way.”

  “I’m Perrin. It’s so nice to meet you!”

  “Um, you as well. You’re with NOIR, I assume?”

  Together, they hoisted Blake up onto his feet and dragged him back to the chair he’d occupied. “Why would you say that?”

  “Give me a little credit. I am a Justice Advisor.”

  “Right. I…yes, I’m with NOIR. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t try to arrest me.”

  “If I tried, you’d be arrested. But don’t worry. So long as Maris is running this show, you’re safe. Can I ask what you used to stun him? You didn’t have a weapon in your hand.”

  Perrin grinned. “A defensive upgrade we developed recently, in light of Just—” she cut herself off “—in light of ongoing events.” She studied the unconscious man for a few seconds before shifting around—her eyes widened in horror as they took in the wreckage of glass and flowers strewn across the table and the floor surrounding it. “Stars, I’m so sorry, Maris! Your beautiful vase….”

  “It’s nothing, and also entirely Blake’s fault. He must have deep-scanned the room and spotted the device.” She motioned over her shoulder, and her household dyne puttered out of its station to clean up the mess.

  A groan warned them that Blake was coming to. Everyone took several steps back, and Maris noticed a Glaser had materialized in Selene’s hand, which she held at her side.

  He blinked groggily, then lifted his chin high. His shoulders flexed as he tested the restraints. They held, and a scowl settled onto his features as a suitably icy stare landed on her. “You will regret this, Maris Debray.”

  I never regret anything. This, doubly so.” She rolled her eyes at Perrin. “I don’t suppose you have a muzzle in that magic bag of yours?”

  “Oh, I bet I can fashion something suitable in a jiffy.”

  “Splendid. Now, wh
ere were we?”

  51

  * * *

  THE PLATFORM

  DASHIEL HAD THE OPPORTUNITY to reflect on his generalized stupidity while they checked cell after cell and found them all empty. On the naive, idealistic notion he’d entertained that the Guides wouldn’t dare come for him. That they retained a single algorithm capable of generating sympathy for others, never mind empathy. Or a sense of honor, respect, fair play. That they still obeyed the rules.

  After Nika had disappeared five years ago, he’d obeyed the rules in his search for her. He’d believed in the rules, even when he stopped believing in the Guides. In the weeks since she’d resurfaced, he’d time and time again tried to nudge her back inside the lines the rules guarded.

  But she had the right of it. When the enemy didn’t accord the rules any respect, neither could they.

  So this was what being an actual rebel felt like. He smiled to himself.

  Lacese stopped ahead of him. “Hold up. I think we’ve reached the end of the interrogation wing.”

  Sure enough, a wall blocked the hallway ahead. A single wide doorway cut into it, with an access panel glowing placidly beside it.

  He couldn’t decide whether to be disappointed or relieved that Vance wasn’t bolted down to a slab in one of the rooms. Hopefully the man had woken up on the grass in Kinsan Park with a headache and a short gap in his memory, and been allowed to go on his way.

  “What are the odds your Advisor status will get us through this door?”

  “Absurdly low. What are the odds you can slice it?”

  “Higher than that, which isn’t saying much.” Lacese motioned ahead, and together they approached the door.

  It slid open.

  “That’s odd.”

  Dashiel glanced at his companion. “Considering how this whole wing is deserted and no alarms are harassing our eardrums, I’d say we’re getting help from somewhere. From someone.”