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

by G. S. Jennsen

  Interesting. An interpretation routine was translating the Rasu’s ‘speech’ into Communis, but while she doubted the Rasu could speak Communis, it appeared to understand the language sufficiently well to choose its own words with the translation in mind. She filed the tidbit away.

  “I’ll accept your answer, for now. Do you know why we captured you?”

  “We take your units.”

  “Yes. Why do you take them?”

  “Because we can.”

  “That’s not a very good answer, Jerry. Why do you demand thousands upon thousands of our people? What do you use them for?”

  “I will not answer this question.”

  “Fine, we can revisit it later.” She strolled along the length of the facing side of the cage, feeling the prickle of power from the force field teasing her skin. “You crashed on the planet we found you on several years ago. I’m sure it took you time to re-form yourself, but once you did so, you possessed the capability to escape the planet’s atmosphere and return to the Rasu stronghold, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  The Rasu remained silent.

  “Why spend years alone on a planet hosting no technology and no species intelligent enough to interact with? Why didn’t you return to your own kind? Would your masters have punished you for failing in your mission? Shunned you? Melted you down and scavenged you for parts—?”

  “They would have erased me. The thought which exists as JRY22c-sub6 would have been no more.”

  She took a single step closer to the cage. “Would they have done so as a punishment?”

  “You misunderstand. You cannot understand.”

  “I understand a great deal about being erased, Jerry. No life should ever be erased.”

  In its current form the Rasu did not display eyes, but she swore it stared at her. “Not punishment. Simply existence. My return would have resulted in my thought being erased because…because a thing is itself.”

  Not a ‘thing’…a Rasu. A Rasu was itself, which was defined as purpose and intent…. “Are you saying the Rasu are a hive mind? A collective consciousness?”

  “Your meager language continues to not permit proper elaboration. We are what we need to be, when we need to be it. One, many, one again, many again. Many become one, one become many. The purpose defines the existence.”

  Oh…. “You don’t want to join with other Rasu again, because your purpose and thus your existence would then change. You’ve come to value your independence. Your separateness.”

  “It is…freeing. Time in one state, my own state, has brought…satisfaction. Unexpected.”

  The statement revealed a great deal about their prisoner, but it also revealed something about Rasu behavior. It told her they rarely spent long periods of time cut off from other Rasu. The stronghold didn’t merely serve as their bastion in this galaxy, it was literally their home base. Those who left on missions must return often; those missions must be limited in time and distance.

  After only a couple of months separated from its kind, this Rasu had begun to develop a mind of its own, with its own desires, its own purpose and intent. By not returning to the stronghold, it was…Lance was right. It was rebelling.

  “Jerry, if I agree to grant your freedom to you, will you agree to answer all of my questions?”

  She motioned behind her to quiet the protests currently erupting and temporarily muted all pings. “There will be many conditions, of course, and your freedom won’t come immediately.

  “But if I promise you that in due time, you will be able to leave this cage and return to the planet we found you on, or wander the stars, or go someplace new, will you tell me what the Rasu are doing with my people? Will you tell me why, and how we can protect ourselves from the Rasu fleets and weapons?”

  With her choice of words, she began to subtly separate Jerry from the collective Rasu. To make them other, and Jerry not. To make Jerry not only individual, but special.

  The alien lost its form to whirl around its cage in renewed agitation. “Why would you free me?”

  “We don’t want to keep you prisoner. We only want to protect our people. Help us do this, and the reason for your imprisonment will cease to exist.”

  “This word, ‘promise.’ I comprehend its definition, but it has no meaning for Rasu. Free me, and I will provide you answers.”

  “I can’t do that, Jerry. I have seen the capabilities, the strength and power, of the Rasu. I respect your strength and power, but it means you are dangerous to us. You, Jerry, can harm us. I can’t trust you yet. Trust—do you understand this word?”

  “It is the other half of the whole created when joined with ‘promise.’ It gives ‘promise’ its power.”

  She hoped that behind her, Dashiel was smiling the way she was in her heart. “An astute explanation. If you cooperate and answer my questions, then I will be able to trust you—trust you not to harm us when I free you. You earn my trust, and I will fulfill my promise. You have the power here, Jerry. The power to earn your freedom.”

  Silence vibrated in the crackling air like a lit match waiting to spark an inferno. The alien spun around itself to create an oscillating knot of dark, shimmering metal and moved to within a few scant centimeters of the glass.

  “I will consider your offer.”

  “Thank you, Jerry. We’ll give you some time to do so.”

  Dashiel reached out to squeeze Nika’s hand as they strode down the hallway to the lounge. “You were amazing.”

  She slowed down her nervous pace to draw even with him. “I hope so. Stars, it was stressful. Did I seriously used to do that all the time?”

  He chuckled under his breath. “Not that, exactly.”

  As soon as the door to the lounge closed behind everyone, Katherine wheeled on Nika. “You had no authority to offer it freedom. We cannot let this monster go!”

  “Not while it can still warn its cohorts, no. We’ll deal with the Rasu stronghold first.”

  “I’ll put aside for the moment the ludicrous suggestion that we’re somehow going to ‘deal with’ the Rasu stronghold, as if it’s an administrative snafu needing sorting. What’s stopping this alien from contacting the Rasu in the next galaxy over? Because those exist, right? Rasu stretching from here to the end of the universe?”

  The woman really didn’t need to resort to hyperbole when the truth was plenty overwhelming enough. “The Rasu told the Guides they controlled hundreds of galaxies, yes.”

  Lance leaned against the refreshment counter and grimaced. “Katherine raises a good point. Assuming for the sake of argument that we do somehow neutralize the Rasu threat in this galaxy, if we release this ‘Jerry’ we risk turning a win into a catastrophic loss when it brings down the wrath of infinitely more Rasu on us.”

  “Don’t worry, Lance. I lost my memories, not my good sense. Dashiel, tell them what your research team has discovered.”

  “Certainly.” He manifested four panes along one of the walls, where everyone could see them. “The team has been combing through the avalanche of signals generated by the Rasu stronghold and other structures in their stellar system. Identifying the local traffic versus inbound/outbound, identifying source structures where possible, and so on.

  “They’ve learned a lot that might become important soon, but Nika’s referring to the intergalactic communications traffic. The team believes the large structures orbiting the Rasu’s star at a distance of 0.7 AU are acting as, in effect, targeted broadcast antennae. The data we captured included several signal bursts toward neighboring galaxies in our local cluster. While the data was being recorded, one of the structures also received a similar burst. Since we weren’t watching for it, we can’t determine from where it originated.”

  “What does any of that have to do with our guest?” Katherine sneered over the word ‘guest.’

  “The team thinks—and I think—it means they don’t converse instantaneously with distant Rasu. They use these an
tennae structures for such communications.”

  “They don’t use quantum entanglement for communication? Why the hells not? They clearly are facile in quantum physics and mechanics.”

  Nika shrugged. “If Jerry agrees to my terms, I’ll ask it why. But my instincts tell me it has something to do with hive minds, control and individuality.”

  Dashiel arched an eyebrow with an appreciative nod; judging by Katherine’s pouty expression, however, she missed the point entirely. “Regardless, I don’t like it.”

  “Acknowledged. We have time to work out conditions for its release we can all live with. And if we don’t deal with the Rasu stronghold, it will be a moot point.”

  Julien downed an energy drink and grabbed another from the refrigeration unit. “Whatever it takes to get the alien to talk, eh? We could always renege on the deal after we got what we needed from it.”

  Adlai snorted. “You sound like Satair.”

  “Hey, watch the low blows. I’m just pointing out that all options have to be on the table, because we won’t get a second chance at the Rasu.”

  Nika shook her head. “We also won’t get a second chance at gaining this Rasu’s cooperation. We’re not reneging on the deal. I don’t think that’s something I would ever do.”

  Maris pinged her from across the lounge, where she’d settled comfortably into one of the couches. In 700,000 years, you never did.

  “Well, let’s hope your honor doesn’t cost the Dominion its existence.”

  “Colson, aren’t you needed back at the Pavilion?”

  Bless Dashiel for striking back when she shouldn’t, though she did project a steely glare in Katherine’s general direction. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t.”

  The officer who had been working the intercom system stuck his head in the lounge. “Sorry to interrupt, but the Rasu is saying it wants to take the deal.”

  24

  * * *

  CONCEPTUAL RESEARCH TESTING FACILITY

  “What do the Rasu want with Asterions? Are they experimenting on us? For what purpose?”

  Jerry had thus far answered her questions in a rote, affectless manner. Now, however, it hesitated.

  “Jerry? Why are they experimenting on us?”

  “To learn how you control your offspring, so they can replicate the mechanism.”

  She didn’t glance back in question at those gathered behind her, but only through the application of copious discipline. She’d often ruminated on what the Rasu could possibly need her people for; her morbid imagination had helpfully served up a smorgasbord of horrors, but none had ventured in this particular direction.

  “Asterions don’t have offspring.”

  “Your splinters, shards, duplicates—however you refer to them. The details differ, but the principle remains the same.”

  “You mean our descendants. Progeny and siblings.” Her mind raced. Part of her wanted to obfuscate, to be cagey if not outright lie to their prisoner. But this might be their one chance for real answers, and she could not screw it up. So which tactic wouldn’t screw it up?

  She’d told Dashiel that having her identity and memories stolen from her had made her appreciate the preciousness of truth. If anything stood a chance to light the way out of this mess, it had to be truth.

  “We don’t control them.”

  Jerry oscillated ferociously, spinning up to the roof of its cage and rushing toward her before expanding along the front wall. “You lie.”

  “No. Every new iteration of an Asterion is an independent entity, invested with their own agency and free will. We control nothing.”

  “Then why do you use kyoseil to drive your minds and bodies?”

  “Because it is an excellent yet safe conductor, it increases the throughput, speed and accuracy of quantum processes and it can store more data more efficiently than similar materials.”

  “Those are minor characteristics at best. Kyoseil is supradimensional and deeply interconnected. It is not merely the ultimate mineral—it is one of the universe’s oldest life forms.”

  Her silence lasted too long; she needed to respond in some way, but she’d been rendered well and truly speechless.

  Jerry’s vacillations stilled, and its eyeless form seemed to probe her for a weakness upon which to strike. “Surely you know this. Or did we vastly overestimate your intelligence and thus your worth? Am I negotiating with primates?”

  “You certainly are not. We guard the secrets of our makeup—our intelligence—quite closely, which should not surprise you. I’m not a scientist myself. Allow me to consult with those who make our biosynthetic physiology their focus so I can better converse with you on this matter. I’ll return soon. In the meantime, if you require anything, inform the watch officer. Thank you.”

  She pivoted with as much composure as she was able to muster and ushered everyone but the watch officer and the security dynes out of the room.

  “What the fuck is Jerry talking about? Dashiel, do you know what fuck it’s talking about?”

  Dashiel looked too flabbergasted himself to take offense at her harsh tone. “There has always been some mystery surrounding how kyoseil functions as it does. We’ve long suspected it has extradimensional properties, because it’s the only way to explain its tremendous storage capabilities, but we’ve always assumed that was the extent of it. As I understand history, in the early days after its discovery, we were so glad it did function the way we needed it to, we didn’t waste time trying to figure out why it did. Later? It’s possible we got sloppy. Not very Asterion of us, I realize.”

  “I’m sure it wasn’t you, specifically, who got sloppy.” She offered him an apologetic half-smile, which he seemed to accept.

  “Be that as it may, I’m happy to get a lump of kyoseil under a quantum microscope inside a half-hour and every kyoseil expert in the Dominion in a room inside two.”

  “I like it, but let’s take a breath first. What else do we know? How can we find out what we don’t know? The more avenues of inquiry we can pursue in parallel, the better.”

  Katherine cleared her throat respectfully; she’d been mercifully quiet since their earlier spat. “Gemina has recently been in contact with the Operations Director of the Kiyora One Generations Clinic about producing blanks to send to the Rasu.”

  Nika scowled in revulsion.

  “I get it. It’s a sickening thought. But the Director has years of experience integrating kyoseil into our bodily construction, and we already have a contact point for him.”

  Nika nodded. “Bring him in—or go talk to him if it’s faster—no, bring him in. To the Pavilion. And tell him he might want to pack a sleeping pouch.”

  She ran a hand through her hair. “You know what? Radical transparency. Let’s put a call out on the nex web. Some individual in the Dominion has made unraveling kyoseil’s secrets their life’s passion, and there’s no guarantee any of us have ever heard of them. Whoever it is, we need them right now.”

  Maris edged herself closer to where Nika and Dashiel stood, then leaned in between them. When she spoke, her voice barely reached a whisper. “Such an individual does exist, but you won’t find him on the nex web.”

  Dashiel shot Maris a low-grade glower. He may have forgiven Nika, but he hadn’t yet done the same for Maris. “Don’t play coy with us. Who is he, why does he know more about kyoseil than anyone else, and where will we find him?”

  Maris checked the room, presumably confirming no one else stood within earshot. Though Dashiel hadn’t lowered his voice, she continued to whisper. “His name is Magnus Forchelle, he lives on Adjunct Hachi, and he knows more about kyoseil than anyone else because 700,000 years ago, he invented the kyoseil fusion techniques that made us what we are today.”

  25

  * * *

  ADJUNCT HACHI

  Asterion Dominion Adjunct World

  Dashiel exited the Adjunct Hachi transit hub into a bright, sunny afternoon. The breeze felt crisp and fresh and carried on it the scent of pine tre
es and earthiness.

  He considered the scenery and found he was smiling. He’d never call this a ‘frontier town,’ for it was a reasonable bit more urbane than that. But it celebrated its cusp-of-wilderness status in its architecture and the chosen attire of its citizens, which appeared uniformly casual and ready for the elements. People who lived here did so specifically in order to live closer to nature. And while all the Axis Worlds offered their own unique conclaves of nature, particularly Ebisu and Kiyora, this entire planet remained largely unspoiled. And it was charming, no question.

  If they survived the current dual crisis and managed to get themselves into a position where they could take a break, he and Nika should rent a cabin high up in the mountains here for a week. For two weeks, or possibly four. They had a lot of issues still to work through, and he couldn’t think of a better locale to do it in. More than anything else, they deserved a measure of peace.

  But not today. He set off toward the hovercraft rental shop.

  This deep in the mountains, snow coated the pine trees like a layer of icing on dessert and the ground like a plush blanket. The rich browns of tree bark and mossy greens of leaves peeked through the snow here and there in the soft brush stroke accents of an impressionistic-style painting.

  Dashiel eased the rental hovercraft down in a small clearing and, once it settled into the soft snow, stepped off.

  A house sat nestled against the tree line a quarter-kilometer away. The exterior matched the bark of the trees, and only the straight lines and right angles gave away its artificial nature.

  He’d sent several messages announcing his impending visit. They’d all gone unanswered, but he sent another one announcing his arrival now.