The Stars Like Gods

by G. S. Jennsen

  CHECKSUM

  DAYS UNTIL RASU DEADLINE: 14

  26

  * * *

  MIRAI JUSTICE CENTER

  Blake Satair sat perched and motionless on the edge of the cot in his cell. Waiting. Poised to spring into action the instant the opportunity arrived to do so.

  The deportment lent itself to stiff, aching muscles, however, and muscles in such a state wouldn’t respond as swiftly and fluidly as he required. Every forty minutes, he stood and performed five minutes of calisthenics before returning to his stance. He allowed himself one hour of induced sleep every eight hours while keeping his senses primed to wake him if they detected any disturbance.

  He’d existed this way for days now. The hours had long since blurred into one another in a haze of revenge-laden fantasies and honed tactical planning. An almost total information blackout meant he knew little of what happened outside the walls of his cell, but he knew enough. The Advisors had executed a coup, the Guides had been imprisoned and the Platform destroyed.

  This atrocity must be remedied. He could do so, as soon as he escaped this cell.

  There were people inside Justice who remained loyal to him; he didn’t question the veracity of this continuing truth. If they had escaped imprisonment and were able to act, they would free him.

  So he waited.

  The sounds of a scuffle echoed down a hall that had been deathly quiet for hours. Blake’s muscles tensed.

  The scuffle gave way to footsteps. Two sets. The intruders appeared beyond the hall-facing glass of his cell, and his eyes flicked across them to assess their worth.

  Then he launched off the cot and strode to the glass. “Took you long enough.”

  “Sorry, sir.” Francis Wallman watched the hallway while another Justice officer, Oliver Perotski, deactivated the locking mechanism. “The other Justice Advisors kept your location a closely guarded secret. We had to earn their trust before we were able to access your file.”

  A gap in the glass opened, and Blake moved into the hallway. “Let’s not linger. You can fill me in on everything that’s happened once we’re clear of the building.”

  Wallman handed him a holstered Glaser and a fedora. He checked over the Glaser and strapped it across his hip, but recoiled at the hat.

  “It’s a disguise, sir.”

  Among a number of other personal intrusions, his internal routines—defenses, offensive countermeasures and appearance customizations—had all been deleted as part of his imprisonment, so it would have to do. He stuck the fedora on his head and marched down the hallway toward the exit.

  MIRAI

  “They’re out of their minds. Deranged.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Blake sat huddled up in a shadowy booth deep in a shady bar in the Mirai One Southern Market with Wallman and Perotski. He loathed hiding, but he recognized the reality that he needed to avoid notice for the time being.

  By now every Justice dyne in the Dominion was likely on fugitive alert, if not actively sweeping cities for him. He knew the system better than anyone, and he wouldn’t be able to evade their sweeps for long, not without holing up in a closet somewhere. But his innate, driving sense of duty meant he couldn’t do any such thing; too much time had already been lost. He needed to make his move quickly. “Tell me about the Guides.”

  “They’re being held in separate, secure locations. Not at any Justice complex, but rather private safehouses, on different worlds than the ones they represented. They’ve been sentenced to a minimum of one hundred years of house arrest.”

  “Sentenced by who? Some kangaroo court?”

  “The other Advisors, most of them anyway, are calling themselves the legitimate government now.”

  “Bah,” Blake protested. “Do we have additional allies we can enlist?”

  The two glanced uncomfortably at one another. Perotski found sudden interest in the table. “We’ve hidden away several squads of Justice dynes. Advisor Weiss was reinitializing all the dynes’ programming, but we were able to sneak them out first. We thought Officers Perkins and Toron would stand with you, but…they begged off. I think they’ve bought into the propaganda the other Advisors are pumping out.”

  “Cowards.” Blake breathed in through his nose. Three people and a few measly squads, for now. “All right, it sounds as though we’ll only be able to free one of the Guides initially, because as soon as we get one out, they’ll move the others and triple their security. And we don’t have the manpower to move on multiple locations at once.”

  He thought on it a moment, then nodded sharply. “Luciene. He’s the most decisive and the most committed to our shared vision. Once he’s free, he and I can work together to devise a plan to take down these usurpers, free the other Guides and regain rightful control of the government.”

  “Here’s the address where he’s being held. It’s on Mirai.” Wallman cleared his throat. “Sir, there’s something else you should know about the Guides. They’re not truly…they’re sort of machines. Living in massive servers, apparently, and using remote-controlled dolls when they made public appearances. Or they were, anyway—as part of their sentences, they’ve been returned to Asterion bodies.”

  “I’m not surprised. It makes sense.”

  “It does? Most everyone is disturbed by it.”

  “Yes, it does. By confining ourselves to small, physical bodies, we limit the capacity of our processing power and thus our intellect. To rule the entire Dominion, of course they needed to expand their minds more fulsomely and eschew those limitations.”

  “Oh. Well, that does make sense. I guess.”

  Blake bit back a groan at the mealy-mouthed answer. He needed the officers. For now. “We’re going to need those Justice squads and bigger weapons to break into Luciene’s safehouse.”

  Wallman hurried to respond, clearly eager to please. “We’ve got it covered, sir. We’ve set aside a stash of weapons.”

  Blake scrambled his way through a graveyard of disabled dynes and two bloodily disabled Justice officers to reach the door to the safehouse, while Perotski and Wallman confiscated any loose weapons and made certain no one was getting up anytime soon.

  The door slid open to a blast of weapons fire. Blake pressed against the outer wall, counted to two, then tossed a stun grenade inside. Another count before he crouched, pivoted and rushed low through the door.

  The dyne guarding the entryway stuttered briefly from the effect of the stun grenade—long enough for Blake to sight the hand cannon he now wielded onto his target and fire. Shards of superheated metal flew back through the room and speared into the walls as the remains of the dyne collapsed to the floor.

  Movement from the small living area manifested in a darting shadow. Blake twisted around and fired. This time the splatter consisted of blood. He approached the body and retrieved the Glaser that had fallen beside it, because he still needed every weapon he could put his hands on.

  He cleared the living area and kitchen, then advanced down a narrow hall toward what he assumed was a bedroom. An interference field had shielded the structure from scans ahead of time, and they’d been unable to disable it without alerting the in-place security. He’d had no choice but to go in blind.

  Faint light reflected off the barrel of his Glaser, and he spun toward it—the open door of a lavatory, the source of the reflection a mirror. He confirmed the lavatory was empty and kept moving.

  A door on the left remained closed. He eased up beside it and listened. No metal joints slid across one another in the silence, only…breathing. Quiet, controlled.

  He tapped the control panel to open the door and stepped toward it, Glaser raised.

  Guide Luciene stood in front of a plain bed wearing a dark robe. Inky black hair was slicked down over his shoulders. “Advisor Satair. You are a welcome sight.”

  Blake scanned the room for waiting threats, then lowered the Glaser. Now that he knew about the dolls, the differences from the Guide’s previous appearance and the man sta
nding before him were starkly obvious. The hair was oily, the skin more pallid and blotchier. Luciene looked more real, but he also looked worse.

  “I apologize for taking so long to arrive. I, too, was being confined unlawfully.”

  “I expected as much. What’s the situation?”

  “The other Guides are being held in separate locations similar to yours on the other Axis Worlds. We won’t be able to free them until we’ve retaken control of the Justice Division and disrupted the illegitimate government the other Advisors have erected. In fact, we need to get you to a safer location right now, as Justice reinforcements are likely en route as we speak.”

  “Very well. I will follow your lead.”

  Something moved in the hallway. Blake motioned Guide Luciene against the wall and readied his Glaser, then checked the hallway to find Wallman heading toward them. “The scene is secure for now, sir, but I’ve been monitoring Justice communications. They’ve discovered your escape.”

  “Let’s move—wait, hold one.” He frowned at Guide Luciene, then at Wallman. “Do you have another one of those hats?”

  Guide Luciene peered out from beneath the wide brim of his fedora. “It appears that for all their high-minded talk, the usurpers have continued to maintain a charade of normalcy for the public.”

  They strode down a bustling street on the way to a safehouse of their own. Perotski had located the apartment, and Blake had reserved it under a false name minutes earlier. “I’m still getting caught up on the details, sir, but it’s my understanding that, no, they’ve spilled all our secrets to the public. The Rasu, the cleansings, the virutox, everything.”

  “Then why…” the Guide’s step faltered “…I see no signs of panic. No mobs, no violence, no property destruction.”

  Blake placed a hand on the Guide’s elbow and subtly urged him onward. “Nika Kirumase is a dangerous idiot, but she’s also a charismatic one. She’s got everyone convinced we’re somehow going to be able to stop the Rasu. Wave our hands around and cast a magic spell of protection or something. The people are sheep. They will follow her blindly to their deaths.”

  “Ah. Yes, I see. The calm will not last for long, then. Not once the true direness of our situation becomes unavoidably apparent.”

  The Guide sounded troubled, and he should be. Their world was collapsing. But it wasn’t lost yet.

  “You and the other Guides can regain control and meet the Rasu’s next deadline before that happens. At least you’ll have no shortage of criminals to send their way.”

  “Indeed.” Guide Luciene slowed again, his gaze drifting across the street to a brightly lit restaurant. “Where are we traveling to now?”

  Blake restrained himself from shoving his charge forward, but only barely. “We’re heading to a new secure location. You’ll be safe there, and we can plan our next move.”

  “Yes. I confess, this is…disconcerting. I have not walked the streets among such crowds in…a long time. I find them unexpectedly suffocating. I believe I crave a measure of solitude.”

  “Yes, sir. We’re almost there.” The Guide finally resumed a reasonable pace, and Blake exhaled in relief.

  “Our next move must be to retake the levers of the government, before the Advisors cause irreparable damage.”

  “I’d like to put together a trusted team and mount an attack on Mirai One Pavilion, where they’ve established a temporary headquarters.”

  “Your skills are considerable, Advisor Satair, but they know you’ve escaped. They will be expecting you.”

  “Respectfully, Guide Luciene, they won’t be expecting this.”

  “Perhaps. In the event you are overconfident, I am sending you a file. It contains a kill-code for all Justice machines in a fifty-meter radius. Keep it safe, for none know of it.”

  “Not even the other Guides?”

  “We all have secrets. We all have contingency plans.”

  A shiver chilled Blake’s skin. But this was as matters should be. He respected Luciene for the Guide’s shrewd, calculating, arguably diabolical intellect, and this was merely further evidence of that intellect. His lapse mollified, he considered the offer. “Such a kill-code will shut down the dynes I control as well.”

  “Yes. But if you find yourself heavily outnumbered, it will even the mechanical odds for you.”

  “Hopefully the situation will not come to dire straits where it will be required, but thank you.” He gestured to a wide doorway on their right. “We’re here.”

  27

  * * *

  MIRAI

  Adlai fought the alert notification’s attempts to rouse him from sleep. It started as a distant flashing light amidst a dreamscape of forests, and his mind dismissed it as a shooting star. The noise arrived next, beeping in time with the flashing. Not unpleasant, but demanding.

  Your attention is required. You must depart this place of peace and tranquility and see to An Important Matter.

  He opened his eyes to the dusky shadows of his bedroom and the delightful warmth of Perrin’s skin against his. His left arm draped over her waist, and her back pressed into his chest. He drank in the clean, honeysuckle scent of her hair and the reassuring rise and fall of her chest beneath his hand.

  Damn, this was a better way to wake up than anything else in the world, and he thanked the annoying alert for gifting him this moment.

  He took care not to move and disturb her as he finally opened the alert—

  —bloody hells!

  He immediately broadcast an order to lock down the Guides’ safehouses, double the security at each one and triple the security at the Pavilion. Then he messaged Spencer and Selene, asking them to meet him at the Mirai Justice Center in twenty minutes. Then he added Julien and Harris to the meeting request, because this affected the entire Justice Division. This affected the entire Dominion.

  His fingers gently caressed Perrin’s stomach as he placed a soft kiss on her ear.

  “Hmm.” She shifted in his arms, half-rolled toward him and opened one sleepy eye. “Hi.”

  “Hi, you. Something’s come up, and I need to head into work. You go back to sleep. The refrigeration unit is fully stocked, so enjoy breakfast without me.”

  Her brow furrowed up unevenly. “What happened?”

  “Don’t worry about it. Sleep.” He kissed her temple…oh, he wanted to stay…and eased away, crawled out of the bed and went to get dressed.

  He’d barely made it to the closet when a report came in flagging a ‘problem’ at Luciene’s safehouse. He dropped his forehead against the wall. So, this was how it was going to play out.

  He canceled the Advisor meeting, suggested the others instead get themselves to the Guides’ safehouses on their worlds, asked Spencer to begin investigating Satair’s escape from the detention wing and ordered a response team to meet him at Luciene’s safehouse.

  Two dynes lay sprawled on the sidewalk outside the entrance to the property. They displayed no obvious damage, as if they’d shut down where they stood. Adlai sent a direct shutdown command just in case, then called one of the response officers over. “Have forensics send a team to pick these up, and any more we find inside. I want a thorough analysis conducted on their operating systems and all orders they executed in the last three hours. We need to know what disabled them and how.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He stepped around the dynes and traversed the short walkway to the front door of the house. Three drones littered the lawn, along with another dyne and two Asterion officers. Their throats had been slit.

  He exhaled harshly and shared a grim look with the officer guarding the scene. “We’ll have forensics give the bodies a once over to be thorough, then expedite their regens.” Adlai picked his way around the slick pools of blood surrounding the bodies to reach the open front door.

  The incursion had taken an even messier turn inside the house. A dyne’s head had been blown clean off and its remains speared into a wall three meters from the rest of its frame. The Asterion ta
sked with interior duty had put up a fight, from the looks of it. Her chest was blown open; the material of her clothes around the hole were singed black, indicating an energy blast. Scorch marks marred the other two walls in the main room.

  He ran through a checklist of the security detail in his mind, then turned to the officer who stood guard inside the house. “Is this everything?”

  “Yes, sir. On a quick inspection, it appears nothing was taken from the residence and no other rooms were disturbed.”

  Luciene had walked out the front door. Adlai wondered if the former Guide had stepped in the blood on the patio as he’d done so and soiled his fancy robes.

  When Adlai finally made it to the Justice Center three hours later, Spencer was waiting on him in his office.

  He collapsed in his chair. “Guides Anavosa, Iovimer and Selyshok have all been moved to new, hopefully more secure locations without incident. Guide Delacrai has been temporarily confined to her residence and her guard detail doubled. But it’s clear Satair went specifically for Luciene.”

  “He likely recognized he didn’t have time to break anyone else out and didn’t want to risk recapture.”

  “That doesn’t mean he won’t come back for them later.”

  “Regret giving the Guides real bodies now? If Luciene was still walking around in a doll, we could simply shut down his hardware. Problem solved.”

  “In retrospect, it would have been the better security move. Talk to me about Satair’s escape.”

  Spencer dropped a shoulder against the wall. “It was an inside job. The surveillance cams in the detention wing were cycled off ahead of time, and the security on Satair’s cell was bypassed without any slicing, which means someone had authorization.”