The Stars Like Gods

by G. S. Jennsen

  Honestly, Adlai wasn’t surprised. Satair had acolytes inside Justice. A few had been easy to identify, and they’d been given involuntary leave time and had their clearances temporarily revoked. The rest, though? “We have no visuals on the escape whatsoever?”

  “Correct. We do have footage from the building’s external cams, but they don’t show anything conclusive. Traffic in and out of the complex was heavy even at that time of night.”

  “All right. Let’s vet every Justice officer with clearance to open that cell, starting with those from Synra—”

  “I’m not sure we need to go to the trouble. Officers Wallman and Perotski didn’t report for their end-of-shift debriefing this morning, and they’re not responding to comms.”

  His mind sifted through thousands of interconnected mental nodes to locate his impressions of the two officers. Friendly, helpful, competent. Respectful of authority—just not his, it turned out.

  “Dammit. They had me fooled.” He sighed. “I want everyone vetted again anyway. I changed my mind on the order of priority, though. Check those assigned to the Guides and Pavilion duty first. We can’t have another breach of this magnitude from within.”

  “I’ll get Internal Affairs started on it right away. What about Wallman and Perotski?”

  “Add them to the fugitive alert for Satair and Luciene. If they so much as pop their heads out for a breeze of fresh air, we’ll grab them.”

  “We will.” Spencer nodded sharply and left the office, which was when Adlai realized the man hadn’t called him ‘sir’ once. Spencer was going to settle into being an Advisor just fine.

  In the likely brief silence that arrived with Spencer’s departure, he considered his office. His time here during the last week had been intermittent at best, and it showed. Discarded files sat scattered across his desk and the table by the window. Two panes had been left open since…yesterday sometime, if not the day before. Coffee stains had dried along the rim of his favorite mug.

  The disorder of his office was only a symptom of a far larger failing. It was all too much—too much for him to handle, too much for four and a half Justice Advisors to handle. Imprisoning and guarding the Guides, a dozen backup hardware caches and two demoted Advisors; quelling civil unrest on every Dominion world; securing the wrecked Mirai Tower and multiple other sites that suffered damage from the Platform explosion; poring through the records of tens of thousands of criminal proceedings whose validity were trash due to the virutox and granting pardons to those deserving while trying to keep the genuine criminals locked up; the list continued on, then on for a span longer.

  They—he—hadn’t been up to the task, and as a result the two greatest Asterion threats to their continued existence had strolled out of their prisons and were now free to pursue their own nefarious ends.

  He could really use one of Perrin’s pep talks about now. She had a way of seeing the world that seemed deceptively simple, even naive, on a first impression, but her fervent belief in it wove a spell around you, until you couldn’t help but believe in it, too. She’d pinged him earlier, though, to let him know she needed to meet with some people at the Pavilion this morning. He’d have to set his psyche straight on his own.

  What would Satair and Luciene’s next move be? It was tempting to hope that they merely wanted their freedom, and they’d hole up somewhere until they could change their appearance and IDs, then sit back and watch as the world burned. They didn’t deserve their freedom, but right now Adlai would be happy if they simply didn’t cause any new problems.

  But it wasn’t going to happen. Satair would never be content to slink off into the shadows, knowing he had been beaten. And Luciene, for all his cold arrogance, was a true believer. A believer in his own inherent rightness, in the infallibility of his worldview—a worldview shaped around the premise that anything other than keeping the citizens ignorant and helpless while appeasing the Rasu was certain to bring about the end of the Dominion.

  No, Satair and Luciene would never sit back and watch while others dared to engage in unapproved behavior. They’d strike at the mutineers and try to wrest away the levers of power for themselves. But where, when and how?

  28

  * * *

  MIRAI ONE PAVILION

  Nika fidgeted around the Pavilion lounge. Pent-up energy screamed to be let loose on some purposeful task. It felt like they were perched on the cusp of a cascade of revelations, albeit a cusp that doubled as a cliff, and she grew weary of peering over the edge trying to make out what waited below.

  Dashiel had made contact with Forchelle, but he’d yet to report back on what, if anything, he’d learned. Scientists in the employ of Industry and Admin were taking a fresh look at kyoseil, and they had put out a call for more experts among techies and slicers across the Dominion. Satair and Luciene’s escape overnight had everyone in Justice and nearly everyone in Admin scrambling to shore up security on every world. For the first time in days, the Pavilion resembled a ghost town.

  Meanwhile, what was she doing? Waiting. And she had no time to waste waiting, dammit.

  She glanced over at one of the tables, where Perrin, Maris and two Justice officers sat huddled up. Perrin was worried that Satair would be hunting down NOIR members, but Nika suspected he had much bigger targets in mind.

  She started wandering over their way—

  “Nika!”

  She spun toward the source of the shout. Parc jogged toward her, a beer in each hand. When he reached her, he handed her one and motioned toward a nearby table. “Hang with me?”

  Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. If he was trying to ply her with alcohol, it meant he wanted something and didn’t have time to be subtle about it. “Where’s Ryan?”

  “Gods, Nika, we’re not joined at the hip.”

  “Except you kind of have been lately.”

  “Ugh.” Parc flopped down in a chair and stared at her until she joined him. “That’s…fine, that’s totally true. But not today. I encouraged him to trek to Namino to pick up replacement parts for WheatleyBot, since one of its stabilizers got blown out during The Chalet attack. He doesn’t need to be here for this.”

  Which meant Parc definitely wanted something—likely something illegal and almost certainly something dangerous. Against her will, her pulse ticked up a notch in anticipation. “And here I thought we were simply hanging out and drinking beer.”

  “No, you didn’t. So, I heard that the kyoseil in our bodies has been hiding extremely bizarre properties from us all this time.”

  “Do I even want to know how you heard that?” Their ‘radical transparency’ policy hadn’t yet been extended to the kyoseil revelations—not until they had a better handle on what those revelations truly consisted of.

  “I was curious about your Rasu prisoner, so I sliced into the surveillance footage of Jerry’s prison. Very clever of you, saddling the bastard with such a lame name.”

  She laughed. “How industrious of you. We’ve got the best people working to confirm or disprove what Jerry said about kyoseil and decipher what it might mean.”

  “You don’t have me working on it.”

  “And this was clearly a mistake on my part. What do you have in mind?”

  He drummed his fingers on the table. “I was thinking about how there’s another version of me out there. If he’s still alive, he’s in the heart of the Rasu stronghold, enjoying a great view of some of their most dastardly deeds.”

  “True….”

  “Supradimensional? Interlinked? Capable of facilitating mental control of one being by another distant, disparate being?”

  Her brow furrowed, spurring him to continue.

  “I think I can use the kyoseil inside my brain to contact my copy.”

  “What?”

  They both looked up in surprise to see Perrin standing behind Parc, hands on her hips and jaw threatening to drop.

  Parc shifted around in his chair to face Perrin. “Exactly what I said. Based on everything Jerry told you
all about the mineral, it’s entirely logical for it to function this way. All I need to do is figure out how to activate it. But this is me we’re talking about. I don’t anticipate it being a problem.”

  Perrin winced in Nika’s direction. “Do we really think the other version of him is still alive?”

  She shrugged. “It’s possible. The limited, pathetic monitoring the Guides have done on previous deliveries has indicated the stasis chambers can remain active for up to eight weeks.”

  “We’ve got a little time, then.” Parc finished off his beer and added a new rhythm to his drumming. “But not much. What do you say?”

  Perrin cleared her throat. “Nika, can I talk to you for a second?”

  She nodded and slid her beer over to Parc. “I’ll be back. Finish this for me.”

  Perrin marched off to a quiet corner and waited on Nika with crossed arms, but Nika held up a hand to forestall the coming outburst. “You’re going to say, ‘maybe we can rescue him.’ Perrin, we can’t. We’ll only get one chance at the stronghold, and all our lives will depend on our success or failure. We’re not ready.”

  “I…I know. We’d get everyone who participated killed, and probably everyone else, too. It just breaks my heart to think of him trapped there, helpless and….” Perrin pursed her lips. “So, I wasn’t actually going to say that, even if I did think it. What I wanted to say was, if Parc can somehow reach out and sense his other self, should he? Whatever he learns won’t be pleasant, and it might be…horrible.”

  “You’re absolutely right. But if he can give us any insight at all into what’s happening inside the platform or what’s being done to our people, it would be invaluable knowledge—maybe transformational knowledge.”

  “I understand that, but forgive me for worrying about his psychological well-being. He’s already had a hells of a week. You shouldn’t push him.”

  “It was his idea!”

  “Of course it was. This is Parc we’re talking about. But don’t you realize he’s desperate to show that he still matters? To NOIR, but most of all to you? His greatest fear is being forgotten.” She studied Nika warily. “This is what you’re counting on, isn’t it?”

  “For the second time, I did not ask him to do this.”

  “No, but I saw you over there vibrating. You were about to jump on the offer before I intervened.”

  Nika hesitated, uncertain of how to respond. Was Perrin suggesting that she’d unlocked a harder, more callous edge to her psyche during this crisis? Had she?

  She’d always taken care of the people important to her. By all accounts, she’d pretty much always taken care of all the people, to the best of her ability. No, she didn’t want to risk damaging Parc’s mental well-being. But they desperately needed information. They needed a way to defeat the Rasu.

  She huffed a breath. “You know what? I’m still jumping on the offer. We cannot afford to turn away from any opportunity to learn more about our enemy. Now, will you come with me to help take care of Parc while he barrels head-first into this mad experiment?”

  Perrin glared at the ceiling. “Yes….”

  29

  * * *

  MIRAI ONE PAVILION

  Nika stopped Parc outside the upstairs room she’d hastily arranged for them to use. “Are you certain you want to try this?”

  “Are you kidding? If my previous self is alive, I want to know it. Plus, there’s the whole frontier of science angle, not to mention being the first person to ever make this kind of connection. If it works, they’ll name buildings after me.”

  She shook her head with a chuckle. “Sure they will. But you also understand that if it works, what you see or sense could be unpleasant?”

  “Yep. Torture—when does that get fun? But I’m ready for it.”

  “All right.” She opened the door and ushered him and Perrin inside. Perrin mouthed a ‘thank you’ as she passed, which helped to ease the lingering concern tainting her burgeoning excitement. If this works….

  A med tech she’d (also hastily) borrowed from one of the up-gen clinics showed up a few minutes later. The woman strode in with an officious manner and a hefty gear bag. “Mr. Eshett, I’m Claire Boshemi. I’ll be taking care of you today.”

  Parc snorted. “I even get to be ‘Mr. Eshett.’ Buildings, Nika. Tall ones.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Are we good to go?”

  “I’m good.”

  Boshemi checked over the cot they’d moved into the room, then went to the built-in cabinets and shelf, set the bag on the floor and retrieved a small kit from it. “I’m here to monitor your vitals and intervene if something goes wrong during your experiment. Whenever you’re ready.”

  Nika turned back to Parc. “We’re hoping for any information you can tell us about the situation your other self finds himself in. If you can see anything about the location, hear any sounds or describe his physical condition…and, again, you need to be prepared: it likely won’t be a good situation. Can you handle it if it’s not?”

  “Gods, Nika, stop coddling me. I’ve got this.” He paused. “Okay, what is it I’ve got?”

  Now he asked? “For the most part, this is going to have to take place inside your mind.”

  Parc climbed on the cot and stretched out. “It’s where I do all my best work.”

  “Kyoseil is woven into your core neurological structure. You don’t know how to access any communication-facilitating capabilities it possesses, but it does—assuming they exist. Open up your mind and remove all your defenses. I promise, no one here will try to break in. Look and listen for yourself and follow what you find.”

  “How very metaphysical.” Parc rubbed his hands together, then adjusted the pillow beneath his head. “Let me work some magic.”

  He closed his eyes. After a few seconds, his mouth and nose quirked around. His brow twitched. He shifted position, then again.

  When nothing happened after twenty seconds, she gave Perrin a weak shrug. They’d tried, but now it seemed rather foolish—

  “Oh, oh! Oh….” On the heels of the outburst, Parc reached a hand out into the air. Then his muscles went slack—

  —a bloodcurdling scream erupted from his lips. His hands grabbed onto the sheet beneath him and fisted the material up as his back arched in a spasm so intense his spine must be on the verge of breaking. The scream continued.

  They all rushed for the cot at the same time. “Pull him back!”

  Boshemi shook her head rapidly. “How? I don’t even know what he’s done. His heart rate has spiked to 200 bpm. Attempting cardioversion.” The woman retrieved two small pads from her bag and strung them over to the cot, then stuck them to his chest and grabbed her display off the shelf. Her attention darted between Parc and the display. “No change.”

  The scream finally died on Parc’s lips, but only because he began hyperventilating. His eyes rolled back in his head. Beads of sweat pooled across his forehead, and all his muscles remained clinched, frozen in a state of agony.

  Nika reached for one of his hands and tried to hold it, but he refused to loosen his grasp on the sheet. “Parc, can you hear me? You have to break the connection. Come back. Come back here. Follow the sound of my voice.” Nothing.

  She glared at Boshemi across the cot. What was the woman here for, if not to fix this exact problem? “Can you knock him out? He shouldn’t be able to maintain the connection if he’s unconscious.” She had no idea if this was true or not; this experiment had started in uncharted territory and was ending in nightmarish but still uncharted territory.

  Boshemi hurried over to the open kit, returning with a port syringe. “Roll him onto his side. I need to access his port.”

  She and Perrin struggled to wrangle Parc onto his side; his whole body was locked into rigidity, yet also somehow fighting them. Finally, Boshemi was able to work the syringe mechanism onto Parc’s port.

  In less than a second, all the tension left his body, and he slumped limply onto the cot. Over the next thirty secon
ds, his breathing and heartrate gradually slowed and his body temperature cooled.

  Nika dragged her hands down her face, feeling as though she’d experienced a tachycardia incident of her own. A question hovered on her lips, but she asked it only of herself, because gods knew no one else in the room was in a position to answer it.

  What the fuck had just happened?

  Parc paced erratically around the room, repeatedly dodging the cot while avoiding acknowledging its presence. “Can I go now?”

  Nika studied him from the spot she’d staked out by the door. He’d woken up twenty minutes earlier and remained groggy for another ten while Boshemi checked him out. Then he’d abruptly shoved the woman to the side and leapt off the cot, asserting he felt fine. He’d sent Perrin off to get him an energy drink and glowered Boshemi into a corner, then taken on Nika.

  “Physically, you’ve recovered from your ordeal, so I can’t keep you here or cart you off to a clinic. But you’re obviously not okay. Can you tell me anything about what you experienced?”

  He studied the floor, reflexively straightening the hem of his shirt. “I don’t know! I remember pain, awful…pain. And darkness, but with lights flashing from somewhere. I think I tried to move, but I was paralyzed. That’s it.” He glanced in her direction without meeting her gaze. “Sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”

  “No, it’s me who’s sorry. If I’d had any idea…but I should have had an idea and never allowed you to do this.”

  An hour ago, he would have scoffed saucily at the ridiculous proposition that she could have ever stopped him from trying something he had a mind to do, but instead he motioned raggedly at her. “Whatever. It’s fine. Can I go?”

  The fierce glint in his eyes suggested she’d have to knock him out again if she wanted to keep him from leaving. She grimaced. “You can go. But please ping me if anything feels off, or if you simply want to talk.”