The Stars Like Gods

by G. S. Jennsen

  “A change of scenery, some fresh air and the heartwarming feeling that comes from improving the lives of your fellow citizens.”

  “Wow, Adlai. You really know how to woo a girl’s heart.”

  He gritted his teeth to keep from retorting that he was currently wooing a girl’s heart just fine, thank you very much. He should have let Julien deal with her. “Again, get dressed. And understand something: if you fail to cooperate or sabotage our efforts in any way, it will result in what privileges you have enjoyed until now being revoked.”

  Her lips pursed; the outward bravado wavered, and she looked almost…not beaten. Frightened. “Don’t worry. I’m quite skilled at doing as I’m told.”

  14

  * * *

  NIKA’S FLAT

  “—you all right?”

  Perrin’s voice fought to penetrate the fog of sleep, yet Nika clung stubbornly to its comforting peacefulness. Only when a hand jostled her shoulder did she open her eyes.

  Polished wood flooring greeted her. Scattered data weaves upon it and sideways shelves above it. No, not sideways. She was sideways…

  …she’d fallen asleep on the floor of the library. Or possibly passed out.

  “Are you all right? Did something happen?”

  Dashiel. The crushing weight of the events of last night swept into her awareness so forcefully she felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. It had all gone so horribly wrong, and she had no clue how to fix it. The library and everything it represented promised the wisdom of the ages—the answers to every question that had ever lingered on her tongue—but it had come at the price of what she held most dear.

  A quick status check confirmed she still had no messages from him, and he was still blocking receipt of messages from her. Lovely.

  She winced as she pushed up to a sitting position and rotated her left shoulder to work out a few of the aches brought on by using her arm as a pillow. A data weave cut painfully into her left hip; she glanced down at it.

  Date: Y94,033.188 A4

  Subject: Encounter with New Intelligent Species (Sogain)

  She nudged the weave discreetly to the side. “I’m fine. I was reading late into the night and…I must have fallen asleep. Is it morning?”

  “Ten o’clock already.”

  “Damn. I guess I was more tired than I realized.”

  Perrin folded her legs beneath her and studied Nika suspiciously. “What are you doing? What is this room? Nobody’s heard from you since yesterday afternoon.”

  “It’s a library of journals that Nika Kirumase and her ancestors wrote. I’m trying to learn from the history contained in them.” She sighed tiredly. “All those people at the Pavilion? All the Advisors and their officers? They all know me, but I don’t know them. I’m supposed to be a diplomat, but to be a good one I need knowledge. Information. I need all the secrets buried in these journals.”

  “Or, you can use your stellar instincts about people. You didn’t become the leader of NOIR and topple the Guides because you had handy reference factoids about people catalogued and cross-referenced in your mind.”

  “I know, but…” she contemplated the mess of weaves lying on the floor “…has Adlai told you how he became an Advisor?”

  Perrin shook her head.

  “He was a senior officer in the Justice Division here on Mirai, and he spent months chasing down this ring of slavers. They were dosing people, kidnapping them and blanking them, then selling them for sexual favors and forced labor on the adjunct worlds. He cracked the case wide open.”

  “That sounds exactly like something he’d do. But—”

  “Oh, and it turns out I never trusted Satair. I was suspicious of him millennia ago. I guess it was those stellar instincts at work, huh?”

  “Probably.” Perrin’s expression grew sympathetic, bordering on nurturing. “Nika, is this about Dashiel? I heard something might have happened between the two of you. Something not great.” She tilted her head to the left for emphasis, which was when Nika remembered the empty bottle of wine—the second empty bottle of wine. This one had ended up tipped on its side against one of the shelves.

  She grimaced and righted the bottle then initiated a flushing routine to clear her mind and body of the not-so-pleasant aftereffects of two bottles of wine. “How did you hear that? Have you talked to him?”

  “No. But Maris did, and…well, she didn’t tell me much.”

  “She sent you over here to check on me, huh?”

  “She did. I’m not sure why she wasn’t able to come herself.”

  “I am.”

  Perrin gazed at her quizzically, and Nika waved her off. “It doesn’t matter. I’m glad you came.”

  “Then you two did have a fight?”

  “You could say. We both discovered I had been keeping secrets from him—before the psyche-wipe. Important secrets, about myself and about him. I don’t remember lying to him or my reasons for doing so, but I did it all the same.”

  She wanted to tell Perrin the whole truth, and given where keeping secrets had gotten her so far, she definitely should tell her closest friend. But she just couldn’t summon the energy to recount the story one more time right now. And what if doing so alienated Perrin as well? What would she do then?

  She squeezed her eyes shut and willed the flushing routine, caustic and punishing though it was, to work faster. “I guess I felt like if I could somehow get inside my own head, from before, and finally understand this woman who I used to be, I’d be able to give him the answers he deserves.”

  “But he loves the person you are now. Surely that counts for something.”

  “For something, but possibly not for enough.”

  “Did you find any answers in here?”

  “Mostly more questions.” She reached up to retrieve a weave she’d placed on a shelf beside her. “I did find this.” She offered it to Perrin.

  Perrin took it, stared at Nika for a long beat, then activated it and began reading.

  It only took a few seconds for her lower lip to start trembling. She sniffled, and by the time she handed it back tears were streaming down her cheeks. “I don’t know who Steven is, but I really think if you just show this to Dashiel, everything will be better between the two of you.”

  Nika took the weave and dropped it in the pocket of her shirt. “He’s not taking my messages at present, so….” She sat up straighter and tried to project a modicum of togetherness. “Speaking of pissed-off men, we didn’t get a chance to talk much yesterday about what happened with Joaquim. How are you handling him leaving?”

  Perrin shrugged weakly. “I’m handling. I mean, I wish he’d stayed, and it breaks my heart to think of how much pain he’s in. But maybe he’s right. Maybe time and distance will be good for him. Either way, he’s got to make his own choices.”

  “He does.” As does Dashiel. The voice giving life to her internal monologue cracked across the syllables of his name, which seemed fitting. “So, are you here solely to check up on me, or do you need something?”

  “I need you to stand up, go take a shower, put on some clean clothes and get back into the fray. The other Advisors need you to give them direction. The Pavilion was a leaderless circus this morning. The people need you to remind them everything is going to be okay.”

  The mere idea exhausted her; in frustration she dragged her hands raggedly down her face. “And what if everything isn’t going to be okay? What if we can’t stop the Rasu and are weeks away from being annihilated? Should I tell them that instead?”

  “Nika, come on. You don’t believe that.”

  “I might.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Nika laughed in spite of herself, mostly at the glare of sincere and righteous indignation Perrin wore. “Knocking me back to my senses, are you?”

  “Damn straight, I am. Now get off your ass and get out there and outsmart these evil aliens!” Perrin paused, then winced for effect. “Please?”

  “Fine, fine.” With a gro
an Nika climbed to her feet. “I have been properly put in my place, thank you. You’re absolutely correct. I swore no more people would be sacrificed to the Rasu, and I have to buck up and keep my word. Whatever it takes.”

  “Good! Because the truth is, I do need your help with something.”

  15

  * * *

  MIRAI ONE PAVILION

  Nika found Katherine in what Maris had dubbed the ‘strategy room,’ if only to distinguish it from the more relaxed lounge next door. She was engaged in an animated argument with Jose Ruiz, the Ebisu Administration Advisor, hands and glares flying.

  Nika interrupted them; she didn’t feel much like exercising the manners of a diplomat at present. “Katherine, I need to talk to you for a minute.”

  Jose took the opportunity to get in a closing offended gesture and stormed off.

  Nika arched an eyebrow. “Problem?”

  “Everything’s a problem today. The spaceports are on the verge of being overrun by people fleeing to the Adjunct worlds, as if they’ll magically be safe from the Rasu on the frontier. For an extra week maybe, if they’re lucky.”

  “Why aren’t they just taking the d-gates?”

  “Because it’s a moderate challenge to lug all one’s worldly possessions through a pedestrian d-gate. What’s your problem?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Like I said, everything’s a problem today. What’s yours?”

  Okay, the woman had a point. “Perrin is trying to requisition temporary living space for people who are back from Hokan Station, in particular those who were kidnapped from outposts. Those outposts are now in smoldering ruins, so they don’t have any place to live. She wants to use space in the Mikan Hotel and Sakura Suites in Mirai One, but Administration is denying her request for funds to pay for the rooms.”

  “Not Administration, actually. Me. It’s costly and unnecessary. Also, I can’t spare the money or the bandwidth to arrange all the details.”

  “No one’s asking you to set it up yourself. Perrin’s willing to handle all the work. She simply needs you to authorize the funds.”

  “No. I’m not taking orders from some little terrorist street urchin. If I had my way, she wouldn’t even be allowed in the building.”

  In the corner of her eye, Nika caught the door opening and Dashiel walking in with Cameron. They were deeply engaged in conversation, and he was halfway across the room before he spotted her. His steps slowed to a halt.

  The stern, confrontational guise she’d donned for Katherine vanished from her visage, and she offered him an open, welcoming and hopeful countenance—

  —his jaw locked and he turned away from her, breaking into a jog to catch up to Cameron.

  She squeezed her eyes shut and set about deploying emergency countermeasures to prevent the well of despair from spilling forth all over her, the floor and half the room. Her pain was for her alone, not for the world.

  Her hands shook as she jerked her focus back to Katherine. She fisted them at her sides, but doing so redirected the shakes through her body. Damn it all to the fiery hells!

  She glared icily at the woman. “Well, if I had my way, you wouldn’t be allowed in the building, either. Luckily for you, you possess some useful passcodes and know how to kick useful idiots in high places—that’s Administration’s real job, right? But get this through your hyper-inflated head this instant: the old way of doing things is over. Dust, wind. The Guides are locked up and aren’t getting out this century, which means going forward, the only thing that gives any of us legitimacy is our actions. So you should think about starting to make yours worthwhile.

  “That terrorist street urchin has done more to help the Asterion people since breakfast than you’ve done in the last decade. It’s time to earn your Advisor position, or I will show you the door and lock it behind you.”

  “Who poisoned your coffee this morning? Never mind, I don’t want to know. I’d argue you down, but I’ve never known you to bluff, dammit. You’ll do it—or you’ll try. Like you said, I’m the one with the passcodes.”

  Nika gritted her teeth in a renewed attempt to stop the shaking. Her face was hot, and she could feel her pulse pounding against her temples. Get it together, dammit. You cannot break. Not now.

  She breathed in through her nose, then out, long and slow. “I apologize. It was rude of me to say those things. I’m sure you’re working hard right now, same as we all are. Please, just approve Perrin’s request. It will take five seconds, and you’ll be done with it.”

  Katherine peered over Nika’s shoulder toward where Dashiel and Cameron had been headed, and her demeanor softened fractionally. “I can authorize enough funds to pay the wholesale—not the retail—rate at Mikan Hotel. That’ll get your friend started. Good enough?”

  Nika nodded. “For today. Thank you.”

  Katherine hustled off to attack her next problem, and Nika quickly looked around the room. Dashiel was gone, almost as if he’d never been there.

  Her heart ached as keenly as if a dagger were embedded in it, but she had to do better, be better than this. When millions of lives hung in the balance, her personal life couldn’t factor into the equation. Perrin had been right to kick her in the head this morning. She had no choice but to concentrate on her mission to the exclusion of all else.

  She studied those who were here in the room. The air buzzed with activity, a physical manifestation of the purposeful action of many of the most talented people in the Dominion, all doing their best to save it.

  It wasn’t going to be enough.

  She wished she could blame the morbid assessment on her foul mood, but she feared it only gave her a heightened clarity. The rose-colored glasses of optimism she’d been wearing until now lay crushed in pieces at her feet, and in their absence a harsh reality revealed itself.

  If there were no Rasu, if their sole task was to patch up a broken government and mold it into something new, something stronger and freer, these people were more than up to the task. They would navigate the inevitable bumps and complications and get it done, making her and NOIR and everyone proud by bringing the Dominion into a shining new age.

  But there were the Rasu. And all this teamwork and cooperation, all these herculean efforts? They weren’t going to be enough to save everyone from an enemy that burned worlds.

  She had to change the game.

  Everyone was already in the third-floor conference room by the time Nika arrived, and she forced herself to not broadcast abject misery as the door closed behind her. She’d asked all the External Relations Advisors—Cameron, Terry O’Malley, Gerard Sahk and Ivan Joste—to meet her here, as well as Adlai and Maris. “Thanks for coming on such short notice.”

  Cameron glanced around at the others. “Is Dashiel not coming? I was just with him downstairs a few minutes ago.”

  She ignored Maris’ meaningful stare. “He’s busy right now.”

  Before she could continue, Adlai stood and joined her at the front of the room. “I know you asked us here for a reason, but I’ve got a reason for us to be here, too.” He pinged a file her way. “As of ten minutes ago, you are once again officially an External Relations Advisor of the Asterion Dominion, filling the vacancy left by Iona Rowan. The last of the approvals came through this morning.”

  She blinked; a chorus of applause faded into the background beneath the ringing in her ears. An Advisor? But that title belonged to Nika Kirumase, and given recent events she didn’t particularly want to be Nika Kirumase at present.

  The content of the journals she’d read so far—the reason why she’d called these people together—forced their way to the forefront of her mind….

  …but she probably needed to be.

  So, she smiled gratefully. “Thank you, all of you, for everything you’ve done for me in recent days. We survive this crisis, and drinks are on me.”

  Her expression reverted to solemnity. “Which is why we’re actually here. I’ll be blunt: we have twenty-two days until the Rasu e
xpect the next delivery of Asterions, and we still have no idea how to protect ourselves from the attack that will swiftly arrive when we don’t deliver.

  “I realize we’ve been preoccupied with trying to hold society together, and to the extent this is my fault, I apologize. There was no other way to stop the Guides except to, well, stop them. And by the way, you are all doing an amazing job of recovering from the tumult their removal has caused. I deeply wish it were our only challenge. But it’s not.”

  Cameron leaned forward with a grumble. “The problem is, we don’t understand the Rasu. We can speculate, and we are, but we know nothing about their biology or chemical makeup or the basis of their technology or weapons. How can we defend against them when we don’t know the first thing about their strengths or weaknesses?”

  “Exactly. We can’t. You’ve nailed the challenge: if we expect to have any chance in hells of surviving an attack, we need to understand our enemy. Which is why I intend to appeal to the Sogain for help.”

  Terry all but leapt out of his chair. “You’re out of your mind. I recognize your memory’s spotty, but have you not read about their warning to us?”

  “I’ve done more than read about it. I—” she caught Maris’ warning look and cut herself off “—one of my ancestors was on the survey ship that first encountered the Sogain. This is why I need to go.”

  Adlai frowned. “I’m not following you.”

  “My ancestor wrote detailed notes about the encounter. The mechanics of the interaction she had with the Sogain entity sound eerily similar to the message I received after the Rasu simex three years ago. A strange voice in her head, as real and immediate and vocal as if someone were standing in front of her speaking, but displaying no physical presence. Dashiel….”

  She shoved aside the surge of desolation at the mere utterance of his name. “…suggested the Sogain as a possible source of the simex and the message. After reading up on the encounter with them, I think he might be correct. If so, it means they know a great deal about the Rasu, and that’s knowledge we require.”