“Not even close, but I’ll live with it. And I’ll soup up the drone with a few surprises.”
“Thank you for compromising. All right, everyone. Unless there’s anything else, let’s get to work.”
Maris leapt up from her seat, hand dancing in the air. “If I may. We’re going to be delaying all this work for just a few more hours.”
“Are we? Why is that?”
“I’m throwing a Dominion-wide party tonight. It’s called a celebration, my dear, and we all bloody well deserve it.”
Nika spread her arms in an exaggerated shrug. “Fair enough. Party tonight, work tomorrow.”
55
* * *
MIRAI JUSTICE CENTER
Adlai blinked at the priority report in disbelief.
At 09:17 this morning, the psyche storage partition assigned to ex-Justice Advisor Blake Satair experienced a catastrophic failure. Sixty-two percent of the data stored therein was erased, and the remainder was corrupted beyond repair. Forensic analysis has uncovered no evidence of tampering or external intrusion, but also no technical cause for the failure. No other server partitions were affected.
In the absence of a secondary backup source, regeneration of Mr. Satair’s psyche will not be possible at this time.
He rubbed at his temples and read it again. He despised the man, and a cruel part of him was not sorry to see Satair gone. But the specificity of the damage, befalling Satair and Satair alone, meant the likelihood of this being an accident was vanishingly low.
No, his gut told him this was murder. Final death imposed with malice aforethought.
Slicing into the secure storage servers used by Advisors should be impossible. Nearly as impossible as slicing into the secure storage servers used by the former Guides—which they’d done, of course. Well, not him, personally. NOIR people. Skilled NOIR slicers who now ran ceraffin like their own personal playgrounds.
A lot of people bore Satair sufficient ill will to wish him dead, but only a few were cold-blooded enough to actually do it. In all probability, only a single person.
Adlai checked the time; he was supposed to meet Perrin for the party tonight in two hours, which meant he had time to make a stop first. He ordered the forensic analysis redone by his best team and left the office.
MIRAI
Joaquim Lacese was staying in a room at the Mikan Hotel. The fourth floor housed a number of displaced NOIR members for the time being, though Adlai expected soon they’d be scattering to the wind.
He steeled himself and rang the bell.
Lacese opened the door wearing a guise of suspicion and mild annoyance. “Advisor Weiss. This is an unexpected…visit.”
“May I come in?” While phrased as a question, it was not a request.
It nevertheless took a good five seconds for Lacese to step to the side and motion him in. “I’d offer you a drink, but I don’t expect you’ll be staying long enough to enjoy it.”
“No.” As soon as the door closed behind him, Adlai leveled a stern glare on Lacese. “Blake Satair’s psyche backups were deleted this morning. It presents as a technical failure, but I think someone sliced into the server and deliberately destroyed the backups.”
“Gods, that’s terrible. Except, you know, not.”
“I’ll cut straight to the point. Did you do it? He kidnapped you and tortured you, which means you have ample reason to want to send him to his final death.”
“Damn straight I have ample reason, and ample desire. But what I don’t have are the skills required. You need backup in a firefight? I’m your guy—which you know, since I saved your ass in Satair’s attack on the Pavilion. But I’m not a data wizard.”
“But you know plenty of people who are. Who did you pay or bribe to do it for you?”
“No one. Hey, you said it reported as a technical failure. I’m sure that’s what it was. We’re not perfect, and neither are our machines. They make mistakes. The algorithms we write make mistakes.”
“Not mistakes like this.”
“Hey, it’s been a crazy month. The Guides deposed, the government in disarray and having to be patched back together, Advisors jailed then escaping and attacking their own—and this is before you get to the Rasu. I bet you all have had to shuffle and rearrange and reconfigure a ton of procedures inside the Divisions. Just accept that something slipped through the cracks.
“Weiss, you’re barking up the wrong tree here. Even if it was a deliberate action, I’m not the culprit. Satair had an enemies list a kilometer long. If you want, you can go interrogate everyone on it. My opinion, though? Don’t waste any more breath on the scumbag. He’s gone, and we’re all better for it.”
“I can’t do that. Deletion causing final death is literally the single worst crime a person can commit, and I have a responsibility to find the person who did it and ensure they’re punished accordingly.”
“Justice must be served, yeah. From where I stand, it looks as if it already was. So, think long and hard on it, Advisor. Do you really want to come after me for this?”
“Want to? No. But understand this: I cannot turn a blind eye to a crime this heinous. If I’m able to prove you’re behind it, I will take you down. I have no choice.”
Lacese wandered around the small room in feigned aimlessness, nodding to himself. “I see. And if you do, how do you think Perrin will feel about it?”
“Are you threatening me?”
“No, I am not. I simply don’t want her to get hurt, and I suspect you don’t, either.”
“Of course I don’t.” He sighed. “If it comes to that, I’ll have to hope she understands, and possibly even forgives me.”
“She is the forgiving sort.” A shadow escaped Lacese’s rigid control to pass across his face, but quickly vanished. “I wouldn’t worry about it. You won’t be taking me down, since I didn’t do it.”
Adlai stared at him. “Watch yourself, because I will be watching you.”
“Not to worry. Now that the world’s saved, I plan to kick back and chill.”
“The world isn’t saved. The Rasu threat is still out there.”
“It’s saved for today.”
After Weiss departed, Joaquim went to the refrigerator and got a beer, then sat on the single tiny couch in the rented room.
Weiss’ expression hadn’t so much as flickered when Joaquim had tossed out the barb about algorithms making mistakes, which probably meant Perrin hadn’t told him about Cassidy. Not the details, anyway. He took comfort in the knowledge she’d kept his confidence and not exposed his greatest weakness to her lover.
Convincing Parc to slice into the Administration Division servers where Advisor psyche backups were stored hadn’t been too difficult. Parc was a good guy—honorable, in his own quirky way—but his ethical standards were fluid on the best of days. Once Joaquim pointed out how Satair had maliciously aided and abetted the actions that led to Parc’s former self being subjected to unspeakable torture for weeks on end, the man had jumped at the chance to help exact retribution.
Weiss wouldn’t find the evidence he sought. Old Parc had been one of the best slicers in the Dominion, but new Parc was a godsdamn savant at it. Still, between the Platform explosion and now Satair, Joaquim had given the Justice Advisor two excellent reasons to lock him away for several centuries, so he really should watch his step for a while.
He contemplated the crystals of condensation percolating on the beer bottle. Permanently deleting Satair from the fabric of the universe was as close to vengeance as he was ever likely to get. This had to be closure, or nothing ever would be.
He closed his eyes and let Cassidy’s smiling face consume his vision. He didn’t need to call up an image, for the sight of her was forever imprinted upon his soul. He pressed his fingertips to his lips, then to the air where she wasn’t.
Then he reopened his eyes, wiped a stray tear from his cheek, and made an appointment at a local clinic for a minor, Grade I up-gen. Just to tone down the reactionary anger a bit. May
be a few other tweaks, too.
56
* * *
NIKA’S FLAT
A data weave sat alone atop the control pane in the library, waiting for her. Nika had known it must exist from the minute she’d learned of the library, and before the OpFlare mission began she’d finally worked up the courage to locate it. Not sufficient courage to read it.
She held it in her palm, studying it warily, even now not wanting to know its contents as much as she wanted to. But the world had changed, and it was time.
She curled up on the chaise on the balcony outside, folded her legs beneath her and opened the journal entry.
Date: Y12,458.094 A7
Subject: Vanishing Outposts – Moment of Truth
I’m heading to Mirai Tower tonight, to the Guides’ most secure data vault. It’s where my search for answers has led and the final place where those answers might reside.
My soul aches with dread of what those answers could be. If the Guides have turned against the people, if they have descended into madness, I will bear a measure of the blame.
We—the most inner circle of the First Generation—granted them the power they now hold. We entrusted the governance of the Dominion and protection of its citizens to them, because we did not want the responsibility and burden for ourselves. We did it on our own authority and without asking permission from the people; we naively thought we knew best, but I fear this decision will come back to haunt us in blood and death.
Over the millennia, almost without us noticing, the Guides have expanded their power far in excess of its origins. If I learn the truth behind the outpost disappearances and try to expose the Guides’ misdeeds, I suspect they will try to stop me. I worry they now wield sufficient power to succeed.
I’ve taken what precautions I can, but what if they’re not enough? I wish I could encrypt more memories. Yet I worry there are already too many to escape detection. I worry they’ll be found in a deep scan, or erased in an exceptional-grade psyche-wipe despite all the protections I’ve layered around them. I’ve hidden the encrypted files deep in my core operating code, then obscured and disguised them. I hope it is enough…and I hope I haven’t protected them so well that I’ll never find them again myself.
How does one encapsulate a life of aeons in a few files? I’ve tried to choose well, but these memories are little more than a series of snapshots. Moments in time. I’ve included facts—crucial events in the story of my life and the life of the Dominion. But I’ve also included truths—small, intimate memories which speak to who I am.
I could include 10,000 more, and it still wouldn’t be enough. I’ve been fortunate beyond counting to have lived such a remarkable life, one touched by so many beautiful people. And I want to keep living it, dammit. I want to keep falling asleep in Dashiel’s arms and waking to his smile.
I won’t go down without a fight for the ages. But if tonight I discover what I fear I will, I have to make it right, even if it costs me everything.
If the worst comes to pass, I can only hope I’ve created a proper trail of breadcrumbs needed for a future incarnation of myself to find her way back to who I am—was. And if she does find her way back, I hope she looks upon me kindly.
—Nika Kirumase
Nika closed the entry and gazed out at the sparkling evening waters of Hataori Harbor as her hand idly caressed the weave. Her heart ached, grieving with the knowledge that the worst had in fact come to pass, and for the loss and pain that had transpired as a result.
But her heart also sang, because she had found her way back. She was here now, reading this journal with a measure of wisdom its writer hadn’t yet possessed.
She laughed to herself. “I still say everything would have been so much easier if you had simply included some annotations in the margins of the memories. But…you did okay.”
MIRAI
No traces remained of the wreckage from the Mirai One transit hub explosion. The entire city block had been scrubbed clean and the crater at its center filled in and paved over. Construction was set to begin next week on a new transit hub. But for tonight, the space had been transformed.
Food and drink vendors along with a variety of party-theme accessory sellers formed a large ring around the area where the hub had once stood. At the north end, a line of temporary d-gates shimmered, providing instant access to similar gatherings on each of the Axis Worlds and easy access to the revelry for those living on the Adjunct worlds.
It was, much as Maris had proclaimed, a Dominion-wide party.
Inside the ring of vendors, shimmering bubbles created spheres where musicians belted out all manner of music and floating dance floors gyrated to match the beats. Drones hovered in the air high above everything, casting strobe lights and sparkling graffiti into the crowd below.
Nika took Dashiel’s hand in hers. “Well, this is definitely lively.”
“I’m fairly certain that was the idea. No question it’s been a tough month for everyone—longer for some of us. Now, though? People have a reason to celebrate. We all do.”
She shifted to face him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “We do.”
Maris’ voice drifted out from the crowd. “However much power they need, yes! Send me the bill in the morning. But not too early in the morning.”
Nika craned her neck around to see Maris striding toward them while motioning animatedly to a man struggling to keep up with her. A wave of her hand, and the man nodded and scurried off in the opposite direction.
Maris rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically as she reached them. “What about ‘a party with no limits’ do these people not understand?”
“Probably the ‘no limits’ part.” Nika gestured toward the heart of the celebration. “It’s all wonderful. You’ve done an amazing job.”
“It was nothing. Five locations, seventeen d-gate pairs, one hundred ninety vendors, eighty-eight musicians and several tonnes’ worth of equipment, all organized in eighteen hours. A trifling matter.”
“Clearly. Trifling or not, you’ve done a good thing here.”
“I like to think of it as a statement to the galaxy—nay, to the entire universe. We are alive, and we will not cower in fear. We will, instead, party.”
That earned a good laugh, but as Nika checked out the crowd, she spotted Delacrai standing off to one side. Two omnipresent guards stood a respectful two meters back, their stances alert and watchful.
The former Guide took note of Nika and, with a dip of her chin, approached them. “Good evening. This is most…festive. A bit loud and disordered. Are all Asterion festivities so overwhelming? I admit I cannot recall.”
Maris scoffed. “Of course they are—this is what festive means. The key is to relax and let the revelry flow through you.”
Delacrai struggled over a pained expression. “I shall…consider this advice.”
Dashiel shot Nika a meaningful look, then touched Maris’ elbow. “Let’s go refill our drinks. I’ll even buy yours.”
For a split-second Maris appeared genuinely stunned, but she smoothly recovered. “Thank you, Dashiel. However, I believe it is I who should be buying.”
“If you insist, I won’t argue.” He motioned to one of the many bars along the perimeter, and they walked off.
Nika turned her attention to Delacrai. “How are you doing?”
“I am…well. Well enough. Appreciative of my continued existence and the freedom I enjoy. At a minimum, I am doing better than my former colleagues. Those who still live.”
“Luciene made his choice when he destroyed his own backups.”
“And with them, the knowledge of ages.”
“Tainted knowledge, skewed by flawed programming and a megalomaniac personality. It’s better for us to pursue our own knowledge, our own way.”
A mysterious expression passed across the woman’s features. “Part of me mourns him, but I find I cannot disagree. On a related matter, Anavosa wishes me to convey her regards…and her regrets.”
&nb
sp; “How is she?”
“Shamed. Humbled. Confused. Introspective. Skinny. I reintroduced her to chocolate, so I’m hopeful that state will improve.”
Nika chuckled. The Asterion-rehabilitation of the Guides appeared to be succeeding, at least for some of them.
“She worries you believe she betrayed you when she approved your psyche-wipe.”
“I do, because she did. I don’t wish her ill, but some things are unforgivable.”
As soon as the words crossed her lips, they felt wrong. She sounded like Joaquim, only he’d now returned ready to heal and move on. She sounded like Dashiel had not long ago, only in walking off at Maris’ side tonight, he’d taken his own first step toward forgiveness. Surely, she could do no less.
“I’m sorry. That was wrong of me to say. No one is beyond redemption.”
“I will convey your sentiments. And now, I will leave you to your…what did Advisor Debray call it? Revelry. Congratulations, for you deserve the celebration. You defeated our enemy.”
“For now, though I fear this battle is only beginning.” She took in the crowd, the lights and music and dancing, and smiled. “But we’ve made it a good beginning.”
Delacrai glided off, and Nika went to join Dashiel and Maris—
You have done well.
She froze mid-step, instantly recognizing the odd, invasive sensation of a Sogain—or the Sogain—speaking into her mind. Her eyes scanned the area around her for swirling lights, but the entire party was nothing but swirling lights.
Thank you.
You have won a victory, but this is not the end of the fight. It is the beginning. You will need help to defeat your foe, as others will need your help in turn.
Hadn’t she just said that very thing? I know. Will you help? Will you fight alongside us?
Asterion Noir: The Complete Collection (Amaranthe Collections Book 4) Page 94