She eased in closer, until the folds of her sweater rustled against the fabric of his shirt. “You’re not terrible at it—you’re just you.”
“And that’s a good thing?”
“Yep.” She took his glass from his hand and set it on the counter beside hers, then intertwined their fingers and not-so-gently pressed her lips to his.
8
* * *
MIRAI ONE PAVILION
Mirai
“You look rather pleased, sir. Did we deduce how to defeat the Rasu last night and no one’s told me yet?”
Adlai wasn’t pleased—he was jubilant. But it wasn’t right or proper to be jubilant when the world was ending. He hurriedly schooled his expression into soberness before meeting Spencer’s inquisitive gaze.
They were in one of the many conference rooms at the Mirai One Pavilion, which as of forty-five minutes earlier now served as a temporary headquarters for Advisor business. For government business, Rasu business and likely NOIR business as well.
The sounds of transport teams moving heavy equipment into a larger conference room across the hall filled the air, and he went over and closed the door. “Regrettably, we did not. I was merely reflecting on…how grateful I am that we’re all working toward the same goal now, instead of fighting each other.”
“This is a positive development, as is no longer being shot at by our own dynes. You wanted a status report on the security for the Guides’ sentencing?”
“I did. Yes, definitely.” He’d awoken this morning to a lengthy list of additional security glitches that had crept up overnight; thankfully, none of them proved critical. They couldn’t afford to screw this up.
“All the equipment we seized has arrived at the Justice Evidence Warehouse on Ebisu. Several of the servers suffered cosmetic damage during their seizure, but failure testing indicates no data was lost and the servers remain functional. The remote connections to the dolls were also tested and appear to be in order. We should be able to…” Spencer’s jaw twitched “…force transfers at the appropriate time.”
“Good, I guess. And security?”
“With respect to the servers, Priority One measures are fully in place. With respect to the dolls? We’ve deep-scanned them and confirmed there aren’t any combat upgrades installed, so the physical risk is minimal. Nonetheless, they’ll be contained within force-field cages before the transfers are initiated. And during the proceeding, I’ll have my finger on the master power switch at all times.”
“Thank you. You are, as always, an exceptional officer. Which is why…I probably shouldn’t tell you this, since it isn’t official and won’t be for several days or possibly weeks, but I’ve recommended you to replace Satair in the Synra Justice Division.”
Spencer blinked. “An Advisor? Me?”
“Absolutely you. You’ve acted in an exemplary manner throughout this crisis and have gone above and beyond to protect the people, even when it put your career at risk. Your sense of justice is impeccable, and you’re not afraid to make tough decisions. Sounds like an Advisor to me.”
“I don’t know what to say, sir. I’ve only followed your lead.”
“That’s a lie, but you’re kind to say it.” Movement outside the window caught his attention, and he glanced that way in time to see Perrin crossing the courtyard toward the building entrance. His chest instantly warmed, almost as if he’d drank in a steaming mug of coffee rather than the sight of her. He wished he could spare the briefest of minutes to go greet her now, but duty came first.
It wasn’t right or proper to be jubilant when the world was ending, but he couldn’t help it. It felt like his world was just beginning.
He cleared his throat and forced himself to turn away from the window. “I need to check on a myriad of emergencies, as well as find out what the hells is going on across the hall. Unless something changes, I’ll meet you at the sentencing in an hour.”
“I’ll see you there, sir.”
“You become an Advisor, and you’ll finally have to stop calling me ‘sir.’”
“Yes, sir.”
SYNRA
A large crowd had gathered outside the building by the time Adlai arrived. Dammit, how had the location of the sentencing leaked to the public? From inside Justice was the only logical conclusion; he knew some officers remained loyal to Satair and the Guides, but rooting them out sat midway down a list of priorities scrawled in bright red exclamation points.
The protestors weren’t rioting, but they were demonstrably angry. Chanted slogans overlapped full-throated shouts, and vulgar signs spelling out coarse threats flashed and pulsed above their heads. A dangerous energy thickened the night air; one stray spark and it would catch fire.
Adlai skirted the protestors as best he could to reach the entrance. Four Justice dynes stood guard while two drones buzzed along the perimeter.
Spencer, we need another security squad outside. The crowd’s getting rowdy.
Yes, sir. Parameters?
Safeguard the building, but otherwise let them say their piece, so long as they don’t turn violent. Protection of innocent bystanders takes top priority.
He politely nudged his way through those who pressed up closest to the building, ignoring several curses hurled his way, and slipped inside.
The stark silence of the cavernous facility once the door closed behind him made the scene outside feel all the more volatile in retrospect. He listened, waiting for the thunder of crashing projectiles and weapons fire, but the silence was broken only by murmured voices from deeper inside the warehouse. He steeled himself and went to join the others.
The vivid shimmer of the five force fields—might as well call them what they were: cages—dominated the large room, which was mostly the point. The visual effect served as a warning to the occupants, and as reassurance to their captors.
Their location was a private exobiological research facility, and the cages’ usual purpose was to contain creatures captured on other worlds and protect the scientists who studied the creatures. The use of the facility wasn’t intended to be metaphorical or to demean those whom the cages now held. It was merely that they hadn’t finished scrubbing all the governmental systems, and they couldn’t discount the possibility that the Guides possessed backdoor keys to the Justice Division nex hub.
The dolls were the only things held captive by the cages. The Guides’ backup hardware remained stored in the Justice Evidence Warehouse on Ebisu, because gathering everything required for their continued existence at one location for such a high-profile, consequential event felt like begging for trouble.
They’d expended a great deal of effort setting all this up for what would be a very temporary display. But Maris had made a speech about the power of theater, and almost everyone had agreed with her.
Adlai had agreed with her, too, at least the parts on the importance of imbuing the proceeding with both solemnity and the ritual of law. Mostly he regretted that any of this was necessary.
He glanced around to confirm everyone was here and ready to begin. The Justice Advisors—again, minus Satair—would conduct the proceeding, but the other Advisors were attending as well in order to reiterate their solidarity to the Guides. Minus Gemina, who was confined at the Kiyora Justice Center until they could get around to dealing with her.
He nodded at Spencer, who gave the tech the go-ahead to initiate the transfer of the consciousnesses stored in hardware two kiloparsecs away.
One by one, the dolls animated, eyes opening and limbs jerking to life in a blur of stilted motion. In barely more than an instant, the previously lifeless, inert mannequins had transformed to look much as they always had in the chamber on the Platform. Indistinguishable from living Asterions.
Adlai shivered, but he forced himself to adopt a neutral tone and stance as he addressed them.
“Guide Anavosa, Guide Selyshok, Guide Iovimer, Guide Luciene, Guide Delacrai. Please each acknowledge that you are functional and capable of controlling your reasoning
mind.”
“Isn’t this…charming.” Luciene’s doll eyes shot daggers of loathing at Adlai.
“I will take this as a ‘yes’ from you. Next?”
The others complied in their own manner: Iovimer cautiously, Selyshok sullenly, Anavosa stoically and Delacrai quietly.
“Thank you.” Adlai took a step back and motioned to Selene, who replaced him at the front of the gathered audience.
“You are being provided with a list of the charges filed against you. After due weighing of the available evidence, we are now informing you that you have been judged guilty of these crimes by a 4-0 vote of the Justice Advisors.”
“May we assume Advisor Satair was not consulted?”
Selene didn’t blink under the weight of Guide Luciene’s glare. “Blake Satair’s Advisor designation has been revoked, and he is facing a lengthy list of criminal charges as well.”
“Who gave you the right to revoke an Advisor designation?”
“Under the Charter, in the absence or incapacity of the Guides, all rights devolve to the Advisors. You should have studied our Charter more closely, Guide Luciene. We might not be here today if you had.”
Luciene’s insolence wilted, and Guide Iovimer covered for him. “Advisor Satair acted under our direction.”
“A little too gleefully, if you ask me.” Adlai muttered it under his breath, but Selene shot him a warning look nonetheless.
“This fact will be taken into account during his sentencing. However, Mr. Satair is a sapient individual capable of making his own decisions, irrespective of instructions received from his superiors. He is also not the subject of this hearing.”
She turned the proceedings over to Julien then. It was important for each of them to handle a portion of the hearing, to make it clear these actions were taken by the Justice Division of the Asterion Dominion and not any one individual.
“As punishment for your crimes against the Asterion people, your status as Guides of the Asterion Dominion is hereby revoked. Furthermore, you are hereby sentenced to have your psyches returned to living Asterion bodies—”
Iovimer interrupted. “What? Our knowledge, processes and intellect are too vast to be contained within a single tiny, meager body.”
“Then you can use external stores to house the excess data, like the rest of us do. You will relearn what it means to be an Asterion, so that you can better comprehend the nature and extent of the evils you committed upon our citizens.”
Luciene had by now regained a measure of hubris. “Is that all?”
Harris stepped forward. “No. Once you’ve been regened into your new bodies, you will be confined under house arrest for a period of no less than one hundred years. You will be housed in comfortable but modest apartment lodgings, each at separate locations, and will be allowed limited, monitored, read-only access to the nex web and personal communications.
“After a period of ten years, your status will be reevaluated by the Justice Advisors. If your behavior has been exemplary and you show progress toward understanding why your transgressions were unacceptable, you will be granted additional privileges. Conversely, negative or disruptive behavior will result in a transfer to less comfortable environs.”
Iovimer gestured dramatically. “I suppose gilded cages will be more tolerable than…” he reached out and flicked the force field with a finger “…animal ones.”
Anavosa had donned a distressed countenance, her cornflower irises shimmering in the reflected glow of her own cage and her always pale skin blanched to ivory. “None of us will be alive in a decade to have our ‘behavior’ evaluated. We, you, this building, this planet—whichever one it is—will have been ground to dust under the boot of the Rasu long before then. It matters not what sentences you inflict upon us with your stolen authority, for we will all be dead soon enough.”
Her words cast a chilling pall over the room. She’d been a Guide for a reason, and her ability to bewitch her lessers remained formidable.
Adlai cleared his throat to break the macabre spell. “Respectfully, Ms. Kelaine, the Rasu are no longer your concern. They are ours, as they should have been from the beginning. To your point, we will do everything in our power to ensure all of us are still here in a decade’s time.” He quickly shifted toward the far-left cage. “Delacrai Iylish, in recognition of the services you have provided to the Advisors and the Asterion people in recent days, your sentence is partially commuted, and you will be allowed monitored but expanded nex web access and movement across the Dominion. This privilege is subject to revocation if you abuse it.”
“I understand, and I thank you for your leniency.”
“Traitor!”
Delacrai didn’t so much as flinch, or deviate her gaze even a fraction from Adlai toward Luciene. “I have acted as I believed I must. Insults will not diminish that belief, for I have made my choice.”
Adlai projected his voice with enough command to hush the room. “Personal commentary will cease. With your sentences relayed to you and entered into the record, they will now be carried out. This proceeding is closed.”
9
* * *
MIRAI ONE PAVILION
It took two hours to disperse the crowd outside the sentencing proceeding so they could safely move the again lifeless dolls and other equipment to another Justice facility, and another two before Adlai finally made it back to the Pavilion.
In a happy stroke of luck, he stumbled upon Perrin as she was about to step onto the east lift. He hurried down the hall, grabbed her and wrapped her up in his arms.
She gasped for half a second in surprise, then giggled against his lips. “I have to get these requests up to the Admin enclave Advisor Colson is setting up on the fourth floor.”
“And I have to do five thousand things to keep the streets from erupting into chaos. I just wanted to see you for a minute before I started doing them.”
Her blueberry irises danced with teasing flecks of bright aquamarine. Damn but she was such a breath of fresh air after the dark solemnity of the sentencing. “See me?”
“Kiss you. I wanted to kiss you. May I do that, here, out in the open?”
“I’ll do it for you.” Her lips found his, and the walls faded away to irrelevance.
“What the fuck?”
The walls zoomed back to press menacingly in on him. Adlai recognized the distinctive voice instantly—and even if he hadn’t, the expression on Perrin’s face as she jerked away told the tale. He tensed and readied himself for the coming confrontation, then shifted—
—Perrin grabbed his shoulder, stopping him from turning around. “Let me handle this. You go on and do those five thousand things you need to see to. People are counting on you.”
“He can’t tell you what to do.”
She stared past Adlai, over his shoulder, a warning flaring hot in her eyes that wasn’t meant for him. “Sure, he can. But I don’t have to listen.”
He wanted, needed, to defend her honor and protect her, regardless of whether he’d earned the right to do so yet. The steeled determination animating her visage, though, was enough to convince him she didn’t need him to. Well, almost enough. “Will you be okay? I can—”
“I’ll be fine. Joaquim will never hurt me. Not physically.” She stepped out of his grasp and faced Lacese, and Adlai reluctantly pivoted to retreat down the side hall. As he did, he met Lacese’s furious glare with a calm stare that carried a warning of his own.
Lacese lunged toward him, and Adlai readied his stance to block a blow and counterpunch, but Perrin stepped between them, keeping her back to Adlai. “Don’t. This is between you and me.”
“Godsdamn right it is.”
Every instinct Adlai possessed screamed at him to force Perrin aside and render the man physically incapable of hurting her in this century or the next.
But she reached behind her to squeeze his hand, thereby broadcasting I’ve got this more clearly than words ever could, then strode toward Lacese. “Don’t make a scen
e here, out in the open. Let’s find someplace private to talk.”
And he let her go.
The door to some random room Perrin had shoved him into closed, and Joaquim whirled on her. “You’re fucking sleeping with the enemy. The literal enemy. How could you do this?”
“No, I’m not! Adlai is not our enemy. He’s not responsible for any of the bad things that have happened. Not the virutox, not your kidnapping, not the destruction of The Chalet.” Her normally delicate jaw locked into rigidity. “Not Cassidy’s death. He’s a good man.”
But he didn’t care to hear her excuses, disguised though they were as soothing mollifications. Before coming to the Pavilion to find Nika and see what he could do to help with whatever, he’d learned how Justice uncovered the location of The Chalet without setting off his MAD defenses during his captivity on the Platform.
The burned-out husk of his former boss on Synra, Gregor Shone, had been dumped at a regen facility in Synra One shortly before Joaquim blew up the Platform. Gregor had done nothing but help him over the years, and they had shredded the man’s psyche with a cheese grater then thrown him out with the trash.
“Justice is evil to the core. From top to bottom.”
“Justice is not a monolithic, self-aware entity with its own independent morality. It’s made up of individuals. And policies and algorithms, yes. Jo, if you want to blame—”
“Stop calling me that. You’ve lost the privilege of endearments.”
Her throat worked, and her rigid jaw quivered. So, this one had left a mark. A tiny part of his conscience recoiled at the realization he’d hurt her feelings, but the louder, raging part drowned it out.
“Fine. But if you want to blame anyone for what happened to Cassidy, blame Blake Satair. He’s been the Justice Advisor on Synra for centuries, at a minimum. Blame him for implementing an overly aggressive raid policy built on a ‘shoot first, investigate later’ philosophy. Or blame the creator of the faulty algorithm, or the weak safety procedures that allowed it to go into effect without proper vetting. But don’t you dare blame Adlai.”
Asterion Noir: The Complete Collection (Amaranthe Collections Book 4) Page 67