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

Page 63

by G. S. Jennsen


  They also needed a new home base and soon, because repair crews were now demanding to get inside the Tower and for everyone inside to get outside. Maris claimed to be working on a solution.

  When the passerby had continued on their way, she forced her gaze up to meet his. “Those words, maybe. But earlier ones…I’m sorry for the hurtful things I said to you on the Wayfarer. I didn’t mean—”

  “Hush. It’s okay. You were trying to protect me, and you were right to do so. I acted foolishly.”

  He appeared to be in a forgiving mood, and it would be so easy to just smile blithely and go with it. But she owed him honesty, even when it was hard to give. “I’m afraid I was trying to protect myself, which was not only futile but also selfish and stupid. And not fair to you. Again, I’m sorry.”

  He didn’t so much as flinch. “I made mistakes to be sorry for as well. Let’s call us square, since it worked out.”

  A throat cleared behind them, and she looked over her shoulder to see the Administration Advisor for Mirai, Katherine Colson, standing there looking perturbed. “The Hataori Renewal Clinic commed me. They’re ready to wake up your guy.”

  “Thank you for letting me know. I’ll head there now.” Katherine didn’t seem to like Nika much, and as usual Nika had no idea why. Whatever their personal history was, though, neither of them had time for the woman to recount a biased blow-by-blow account of it.

  Katherine spun and left as fastidiously as she’d arrived, and Nika shifted back to snuggle into Dashiel’s embrace for a few final, perfect seconds. “I think this means it’s time for us to go to work.”

  He grumbled and kissed her again. “The Hataori Renewal Clinic? That’s where Vance was getting checked out at. Mind if I come with you?”

  She stepped out into the hall, coaxing him after her with an outstretched hand. “You can come anywhere in the universe with me.”

  2

  * * *

  HATAORI RENEWAL CLINIC

  Mirai

  Every corner of the private room at the Hataori Renewal Clinic sparkled and shone, making for a stark contrast to the scorched, bombed-out façade of Mirai Tower where Nika had spent the last day and a half. Well-lit with soothing art decorating the walls, a tricked-out cot and two comfortable guest chairs, it provided a warm and comforting environment in which to be welcomed back to the world of the living.

  A medical technician fussed with the IVs and sensors snaking out from Parc Eshett’s new body, which was snuggled into soft sheets and a plush pillow. His eyes remained closed, but the tech had assured her he would awaken soon.

  The door slid open, and Perrin Benvenit and Ryan Theroit peeked inside. “Is it safe to come in?”

  Nika laughed quietly. “Safer than anywhere else in the last two days, anyway.”

  Perrin hurried over to check the patient before joining Nika on the far side of the cot. Ryan entered the room somewhat hesitantly. “Thanks for letting me be here for this.”

  Perrin waved him over. “The more friendly faces here when he wakes up, the better. This is going to be disorienting for him. The last thing this backup remembers is getting ready for bed after the Dominion Transit mission, before he installed the limb augment.”

  Nika had been a little surprised to learn that Ryan wanted to be here, but Perrin had brushed it off with a remark about him and Parc being friends. Obviously, they were friends…and now she felt bad for not realizing how close of friends they apparently were.

  Mostly, though, she was just glad to see Ryan up and walking around. The damage he’d sustained during the attack on The Chalet had been more serious than anyone had suspected at the time, and he’d spent almost a day in a tank. He was damn tough to have walked away, much less shimmied up and onto The Chalet’s roof, while being so grievously injured.

  A murmur from the bed drew their attention. The tech’s focus darted between the waking patient and a series of readings on the pane beside the bed. After a few seconds, she gave them an approving nod and stepped out of the way.

  Parc opened one eye to peer at them. “Nika. Perrin. Ryan? Oh, shit. This can’t be good.”

  Nika smiled broadly. “Hi, Parc.”

  Ryan approached the side of the bed as Parc stretched languidly and opened the other eye. The top half of the bed rose to bring him to a more inclined position. “What time is it? Am I late for something? Did I oversleep?”

  Ryan chuckled. “Just a little bit.” He reached out and placed a hand on Parc’s chin, urging it over to face him. Then he leaned in and kissed Parc softly before drawing back. “I should have done this a long time ago.”

  Parc blinked, then blinked a second time. “Well…do it again!”

  Ryan complied with noticeable enthusiasm.

  Nika arched an eyebrow. She didn’t want to be rude and stare, though, so she nudged Perrin instead. “Did you know about this?”

  “It sounds as if there wasn’t technically anything to know about until this precise moment. But I suspected.”

  “Uh-huh.” Nika gave them another good five seconds before clearing her throat. “Gentlemen, as heartwarming as this reunion is, we, um….”

  Ryan disentangled himself and scurried off to the opposite wall, where he found sudden interest in his feet. “Sorry.”

  Parc, on the other hand, wound his hands behind his head and settled back into the pillow wearing a smug smirk. “Don’t be. We’ll talk at greater length on this topic later. But I’m guessing something dire has happened, because this is not my bed at The Chalet, and no one’s ever been that happy to see me before.”

  Nika sighed. This part wasn’t going to be fun. “We do need to talk.”

  “The Chalet is gone? As in, rubble?”

  Parc had vacated the cot the instant the med tech allowed it, and they now sat at a small table in the attached recovery room. Perrin had excused herself a few minutes earlier to go help Dominic and Josie, who had gotten caught up in an altercation with a Justice squad that hadn’t yet received the memo about NOIR now being the good guys. Ryan leaned against the wall, loitering but not quite participating in the conversation.

  Parc dropped his elbows to the table and rubbed at his temples. “And my previous body is currently being experimented on by evil shapeshifting aliens in their mega-fortress on the other side of the galaxy? Or dead and dissected. Probably dead and dissected by now, right?”

  “We don’t know for certain. The Guides weren’t able to learn much about what happens to our people after they’re turned over to the Rasu. We think they do all…die eventually, yes, though the amount of time it takes varies. But the reality is, we’re not going to be able to infiltrate the stronghold in time to rescue you. I’m so sorry.”

  “No, no, I get that. Sure. Damn, it’s creepy to contemplate, though.” He frowned. “And the prison sentence for the attempted theft?”

  “You’re being pardoned because of the virutox. And since Justice was able to recover the property you tried to steal and return it to its owner, there won’t be any recompense obligations hanging over you. You’re in the clear.”

  Parc made a show of straightening up and donning his usual cocky demeanor. When adopted so swiftly, it resembled body armor hurriedly slapped on to deflect the brunt of an emotional and psychological onslaught. She couldn’t blame him for it.

  “It sounds like you’ve taken care of everything. But I am so bummed I missed all the excitement—oh! Where do I sleep? Because I’m definitely not sleeping here. I guess that’s my problem to solve, though, now that I am once more a walking, talking, functioning Asterion.”

  “Perrin is working on arranging accommodations for people.”

  Ryan spoke up for the first time since they’d moved to the recovery room. “I rented a tiny apartment, since I need space to keep the bots and equipment. It’s kind of a shithole, but you’re welcome to crash there.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Until you find something else.”

  “Thanks. You and I…we should do that. Crash.” He n
odded in affirmation. “I don’t suppose any of my stuff made it out of The Chalet?”

  Ryan made a hedging motion with his hands. “Your command center got disintegrated, but I grabbed your file storage, so your custom routines are intact and fairly current. And a couple of your tools from the equipment room. They’re in a locker Perrin reserved after Joaquim got snatched.”

  “You are excellent.”

  Nika glanced behind her at Ryan incredulously. “When were you doing all of this?”

  He shrugged. “While you were off saving the world?”

  “Good answer, but it’s not saved yet. I’m actually extremely glad to hear you salvaged his gear and routines.” She returned her attention to Parc. “We’re working on regening everyone who experienced body loss in The Chalet explosion, and the second Chalet explosion. But we woke you up first because we need your help.”

  “Oh, thank gods! I was starting to worry I’d been rendered obsolete.”

  “As if.” Nika stood. “Take an hour or two to get situated and grab your gear. I’m sorry I can’t give you longer to ease back into being alive again, but when I said we need your help, I meant we need it urgently. When you’re ready, meet me at this address on Synra.”

  GUIDES STORAGE FACILITY

  Synra

  Parc circled the imposing tower of servers and support hardware, studying it with theatrical suspicion but also appreciation while completely ignoring the half-dozen security dynes standing guard inside the room. “All the Guides’ state secrets are stored in here, huh?”

  Nika nodded. “That’s our understanding, yes. And believe me, we intend to comb through every single one of those secrets. But right now, we’re frantically seeking the locations of the individual Guides’ personal backups.” Delacrai had kindly pointed them to the location of this official government cache, but the Guide insisted she held no personal knowledge of where the others secured their backups.

  “We haven’t been able to crack the security on the Guides’ personal partitions, and if we push, we risk triggering self-destruct mechanisms or worse.”

  “Seriously, no one in the entire government has the skill to crack this baby open?”

  “Someone undoubtedly does. But we’re having to be careful. There aren’t a lot of people we’re confident we can trust. I trust you.”

  “Aww, I appreciate it! You’ve made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.”

  “Kind of like Ryan does?”

  “Ha! Yeah…who saw that coming?” Parc ran a hand through disheveled hair—she doubted he’d combed it since waking up at the regen clinic—and glanced away in a rare display of bashfulness. “Rapid change of subject: I can’t help but notice how you’re saying ‘we’ a lot. Given the swank, top-shelf regen service, the mountain of government servers I’ve been given carte blanche to play with and the over-armed Justice dynes that aren’t shooting at me—” he waved at the security detail “—I’m going to make a wild intuitive leap and assume you don’t mean NOIR. So, who the hells is ‘we’?”

  Now she was the one to break eye contact as an unexpected surge of the old guilt resurfaced. But she didn’t deserve to be ashamed, dammit. She’d saved NOIR and brought it into the light. Now, she was acting as she must to save everyone. “A core group of Advisors, mostly, who helped NOIR take down the Guides and stop the spread of the virutox.”

  “Of which you used to be one, right? And are again, perhaps?”

  He certainly hadn’t wasted any time getting caught up on recent events. “Formal titles aren’t a priority right now. There’s far too much work to be done to worry about such silliness. Speaking of work to be done….” She gestured meaningfully at the server tower.

  “Right, right. I’ll need to get inside and poke around a bit to see what’s what, but I can crack it. One way or another.” He circled the tower again, then stopped in front of one of the control panes and chewed on his thumb. “You know what would really help speed my work along? A limb augment.”

  “Oh, you have got to be joking.”

  “A virutox-free one, don’t worry. I’m simply saying, what ten fingers can do, twenty can do twice as fast.”

  She groaned. “I suppose I can ask Dashiel to bring you a new one.”

  “Which he will, because he’s your sweetie.”

  “Yes, that’s exactly how I would describe him. Do you need it this instant?”

  He cracked a grin. “Nah. I’m just messing with you. I mean, I definitely want one. See, I don’t remember how cool of an upgrade it was, and I’m dying to learn what I missed—ooh, poor choice of words. Anyway, it can wait a couple of hours.” He went over to the bag he’d brought from the NOIR locker and opened it up. “Time to get to work.”

  3

  * * *

  MIRAI JUSTICE CENTER

  Adlai rushed into the Mirai Justice Center conference room displaying considerably more excitement than he’d felt when he’d last left it. Three weary, worn faces regarded him expectantly.

  “We’ve got the locations of the Guides’ backups.”

  A flurry of overlapping questions erupted, but he waved the other Justice Advisors quiet. “You’ll all receive a report summarizing how we obtained the information in about ten seconds. It was an unorthodox approach, but we didn’t have time for orthodoxy.

  “The Guides stuck to their homes, and each Guide controls two storage locations on the world they represent.” He tossed up a pane with the addresses listed. “We need to mobilize in force and hit all eight locations simultaneously, in case they’re communicating with one another.”

  “Since Guide Delacrai is surrendering her backups voluntarily, I can deploy my teams to Synra.”

  “Thank you, Julien. We still need to determine who we can trust in Satair’s organization, but it’ll have to wait until after we secure the Guides….” Property? Psyches? Memories? The source intelligences themselves? He shuddered. “Let’s target staging in ninety minutes, and plan to move ten minutes later. Can we make that timetable?”

  Selene pushed her chair back from the table and headed for the door. “One way to find out.”

  Spencer Nimoet was waiting on Adlai in the dyne maintenance lab when he arrived, and his officer immediately launched into an update on his work. “We completed a hard reset and reinitialization of the first eight squads ten minutes ago. It’s the only way to ensure Advisor Satair didn’t leave behind any counter programming, worms, bombs or traps we haven’t thought of. We’ll cycle through all the patrol squads as they complete their shifts over the next day.”

  He gestured behind him at the long row of security dynes nestled in the bays. “But these eight squads are safe to deploy.”

  “Excellent work and better timing. By tomorrow, we might actually have control of the Justice Center again.”

  “That will be nice, sir. What’s our plan?”

  “We’re hitting the two backup storage locations owned by Guide Anavosa simultaneously with Justice teams at the other sites. We don’t want to risk tipping any of the Guides off ahead of time.”

  “Because they’re…alive inside their machines?”

  Adlai joined Spencer in grimacing. “We can’t afford to assume they’re not. I know it’s disturbing. I try not to think about it any more than I have to, which has been too much lately.”

  “Good advice.”

  “I’ll lead the team at the Franklin Street location. I’d like for you to handle the Moroccan Circle site.”

  Spencer nodded firmly. He’d gained confidence during this crisis, as a man rising to the occasion should. “Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down.”

  MIRAI

  Julien Grayson (Synra): Teams S1 and S2 in position.

  The warehouse sat dark and silent at the end of a narrow street. Scarcely more than an alley.

  Looks were deceiving, however. The warehouse was drawing a tremendous amount of power from the grid—far more than its ostensible purpose, listed in Administration records as dry goods storage, would
ever require.

  Adlai slated cutting the power feed as their last act before breaching the interior. The facility would also have an internal backup power generator, of course, and they’d need to shut it down as swiftly as possible once they were inside.

  Selene Panetier (Namino): Teams N1 and N2 in position.

  A deep scan of the warehouse interior arrived from the surveillance drone, and he studied it quickly.

  The space consisted of a single floor and an insulated attic space thick with cabling and pipes. A wide entrance faced the street. A shielded block in the rear right corner likely represented the generator. A long row of electrified equipment stretched along the far wall and halfway across the floor, claiming the bulk of the warehouse space—presumably the servers. The purpose of a small cordoned-off area in the rear left, he couldn’t say. Outlines of tall, bipedal machines had to signify security dynes. Six of them. Two objects in motion would be patrolling drones.

  The scan didn’t reveal all the risks waiting inside, however. For one, they faced a non-zero chance that an emergency routine was set to activate and blow the whole building the second they tripped a sensor.

  But to implement such drastic security measures at both backup locations risked suicide. And he was betting that Anavosa was not suicidal.

  Harris Rosenthal (Ebisu): Teams E1 and E2 in position.

  Adlai marked up the scan and distributed it to his team, which consisted of three officers, eight combat dynes and two combat drones. Overkill, perhaps, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

  Adlai Weiss (Mirai): Teams M1 and M2 in position. Ready on my mark. He confirmed the status of his team. Mark.

  The street pitched into darkness.

  Ηq (visual, 40%) | ((scan.infrared && scan.thermal)(290°:70°))

 

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