by Amie Kaufman
THIS IS A BORZOI BOOK PUBLISHED BY ALFRED A. KNOPF
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2018 by LaRoux Industries Pty Ltd. and Neverafter Pty Ltd.
Cover photograph copyright © 2018 by Vandathai/Shutterstock
Ship insignia illustrations copyright © 2015, 2016, 2018 by Stuart Wade
Military map and ship blueprint and schematics copyright © 2015, 2016, 2018 by Meinert Hansen
Select journal illustrations (this page, this page [text overlay], this page, this page) copyright © 2018 by Marie Lu
Select journal illustrations (this page [infinity symbol], this page, this page, this page, this page) copyright © 2018 by Lisa Weber
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Alfred A. Knopf, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.
Knopf, Borzoi Books, and the colophon are registered trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Kaufman, Amie, author. | Kristoff, Jay, author. | Lu, Marie, illustrator.
Title: Obsidio / Amie Kaufman & Jay Kristoff ; with journal illustrations by Marie Lu.
Description: First Edition. | New York : Alfred A. Knopf, [2018] | Series: the Illuminae files ; 03 | Summary: Kady, Ezra, Hanna, Nik, and 2,000 other refugees must return by container ship to Kerenza, where they meet Rhys, once close to Kady’s cousin, Asha, and now their enemy.
Identifiers: LCCN 2017020645 (print) | LCCN 2017037108 (ebook) | ISBN 978-0-553-49919-3 (trade) | ISBN 978-0-553-49920-9 (lib. bdg.) | ISBN 978-0-553-49921-6 (ebook)
Subjects: | CYAC: Science fiction. | Interplanetary voyages—Fiction. | Artificial intelligence—Fiction.
Classification: LCC PZ7.K1642 (ebook) | LCC PZ7.K1642 Obs 2018 (print) | DDC [Fic]—dc23
Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.
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NOTE: THIS EBOOK IS BEST VIEWED LOCKED IN PORTRAIT ORIENTATION.
FOR MARIE. WHO ELSE?
CONTENTS
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Obsidio
Acknowledgements
About the Authors
Chief Prosecutor: Gabriel Crowhurst, BSA, MFS, JD
Chief Defense Counsel: Kin Hebi, BSA, ARP, JD
Tribunal: Hua Li Jun, BSA, JD, MD; Saladin Al Nakat, BSA, JD; Shannelle Gillianne Chua, BSA, JD, OKT
Witness: Leanne Frobisher, Director of Acquisitions, BeiTech Industries, MFA, MBA, PhD
Date: 11/04/76
Timestamp: 13:06
—cont. from pg. 1172—
Crowhurst, G: Perhaps we should get proceedings under way? Miss Donnelly, is the video feed operating at your end?
Donnelly, H: We can see you, Mr. Crowhurst.
Crowhurst, G: Thank you for making yourself available to us today. Please state your name and occupation for the record.
Donnelly, H: Hanna Alimah Donnelly. I don’t really have an occupation. My father was Charles Donnelly, commander of Jump Station Heimdall.
Al Nakat, S: Miss Donnelly, the tribunal must again remind you that remote testimony is a privilege, not a right. One can’t help but notice your so-called Illuminae Group has a flair for the dramatic. Should these proceedings devolve into melodrama or farce, I will not hesitate to suspend the session, do you understand?
Donnelly, H: We understand, Your Honor.
Crowhurst, G: Miss Donnelly, you’ve already been sworn in. Do you understand the penalties for providing fraudulent testimony to a United Terran Authority tribunal?
Donnelly, H: I’m sure Dr. Frobisher’s lawyers can explain it to me. Pretty certain they would’ve warned her before she got on the witness stand for her comedy routine.
Hebi, K: Objection!
Donnelly, H: Hello, Leanne. Nice suit. A Feeney original, am I right?
Frobisher, L: [inaudible]
Hebi, K: Your Honors—
Al Nakat, S: Miss Donnelly, these are exactly the kind of theatrics I will not tolerate. You will address the tribunal members or counsel only, or we will find you in contempt. Do I make myself clear?
Donnelly, H: Yes, Your Honor. Crystal.
Crowhurst, G: Miss Donnelly, the tribunal has already covered the first and second segments of the Illuminae Files, addressing the initial invasion of Kerenza IV by BeiTech Industries—
Hebi, K: Objection. Alleged invasion.
Chua, S: Sustained.
Crowhurst, G: Apologies. Alleged invasion.
We’ve reviewed records of the battle between the Lincoln and the Alexander. From there we moved on to the alleged siege of Jump Station Heimdall by BeiTech special operatives and the arrival of WUC science vessel Hypatia.
Donnelly, H: Don’t forget the universe almost imploding. Twice.
Crowhurst, G: Quite. And yet you still haven’t explained how you’re talking to us now. Jump Station Heimdall was destroyed. If, as you claim, you and Heimdall’s remaining population traveled to the Kerenza system before the station’s destruction, using the ship belonging to Travis Falk—the Mao—you would have been trapped there with the crew of the Hypatia, with no way of returning to the Core. With the wormhole down, you wouldn’t even be able to transmit to us.
Donnelly, H: Ten points.
Crowhurst, G: So where are you right now, Miss Donnelly?
Donnelly, H: I’m not at liberty to say.
Crowhurst, G: But you’re not in the Kerenza system?
Donnelly, H: That’d be impossible. The Illuminae Group saved two universes from annihilation in a hyperspatial paradox event, but we’re not miracle workers.
Jun, H: Miss Donnelly, please answer the question.
Donnelly, H: Sorry. No. The answer is no. We’re not in Kerenza.
Crowhurst, G: Very well. So, given that it should have been a trip of several thousand years back to the Core without jump travel, would you care to explain to the tribunal how it is you and your colleagues escaped the system?
Donnelly, H: …Not all of us did.
Crowhurst, G: I beg your pardon?
Donnelly, H: Not all of us escaped Kerenza, Mr. Crowhurst.
Crowhurst, G: Are you saying some of your group are still there?
Donnelly, H: I’m saying they’ll never leave. That’s the point of all this. That’s why we’re here today. To tell the story for everyone who can’t tell you themselves. To shine a light. To speak for the dead, Mr. Crowhurst.
The dead, Dr. Frobisher.
Al Nakat, S: Miss Donnelly, I will not warn you again!
Donnelly, H: …I’m sorry, Your Honor.
Crowhurst, G: Miss Donnelly, perhaps we can start at the beginning. Given your predicament after Heimdall’s demolition, how did you escape the Kerenza system?
Donnelly, H: That’s a long story. And it includes some people you haven’t met yet. See, what we didn’t know at the time, what nobody knew until after Heimdall Station was destroyed, was that there were still survivors on Kerenza IV.
[sound of crowd]
Jun, H: Order! Order in the court!
Crowhurst, G: I’m sorry, Miss Donnelly. Survivors?
Donnelly, H: Thin
k about it. Four dreadnoughts attacked the planet in the initial invasion, along with Mobile Jump Platform Magellan. The Alexander crippled Magellan, so nobody could jump out of the system, but only two dreads were actually destroyed. The others were still in orbit around Kerenza IV, with no way to get home.
Crowhurst, G: So there was a BeiTech force on the planet?
Donnelly, H: Correct. By the time Hypatia reached the Heimdall waypoint, the occupying force had been stranded planetside for almost seven months. Along with a bunch of colonists who never made it out on the Alexander fleet.
Crowhurst, G: But wouldn’t these dreadnoughts and their BeiTech crew have been able to transmit a message to Rapier, the BeiTech operative on Heimdall? BeiTech would have known these survivors were there, surely.
Donnelly, H: This is a little complex to explain. Fortunately, we just happen to have assembled a file on the topic…
Frobisher, L: Of course you have.
Donnelly, H: No need to be snippy, Leanne.
Is everyone sitting comfortably? Anyone need to go to the bathroom bef—
Al Nakat, S: Miss Donnelly…
Donnelly, H: Okay, if you can open your readers to Page 1?
Once upon a time, on a little speck of ice at the *** end of the universe known as Kerenza IV…
PERSONNEL TRANSFER DIRECTIVE
—PRIORITY ONE—
AUTHORIZATION: SŪN 7802-024-BTN
Incept: 08/16/75
Name: LINDSTROM, Rhys
Rank: Specialist
Current Assignment: Electronics Support, Mobile Jump Platform Magellan
New Assignment: Electronics Repair & Logistics, Planet Kerenza IV
Specialist Lindstrom,
Happy belated Terra Day, and allow me to apologize in advance for what may be an unwelcome assignment.
I understand you’ve done sterling work aboard Mobile Jump Platform Magellan while in orbit around Kerenza IV and assisted ably in the containment of the warp storm spilling from Magellan’s damaged hermium containment system. Your supervisors speak highly of your skills and dedication to BeiTech Industries and the Orbital Corps.
Unfortunately, unexpected difficulties have arisen at the Kerenza IV beachhead, resulting in a shortfall of technical staff. Therefore, you are hereby ordered to report to First Lieutenant Christie, Delta Company, 4th Platoon. You will accompany 4th Platoon on their next rotation down on the Kerenza IV colony (commencing 08/17/75).
Understand this is not a punishment, Specialist. You have done exemplary work, and the situation planetside demands the presence of our very best and brightest. With the warp storm contained and communication with our personnel aboard Jump Station Heimdall now possible, I have no doubt command will relieve us soon.
Should communication with BeiTech HQ prove fruitless, TechEng informs me Magellan will be capable of jump travel in two weeks. However, due to the containment breach, Magellan’s hermium stores are almost entirely depleted. As a result, safeguarding production in the Kerenza hermium mine is now Priority One.
Lieutenant Christie will brief you fully aboard flagship Churchill and assign you a protection detail for the duration of your stay on Kerenza IV. I have every faith you will perform your duties with customary excellence and help ensure our final victory.
Sūn Huojin
Admiral, BeiTech Industries Orbital Corps
Commander, BT013-TN Churchill, Assault Fleet Kerenza
INCEPT: 08/17/75 08:46
Guest_17: u there?
Guest_03: ya
Guest_17: set to go?
Guest_03: wut r u my ****ing mother
Guest_17: this is serious goddamm it
Guest_03: glad you here to tell me these things
Guest_17: just dont **** it up
Guest_17: gonna hear enough **** from the others about this without it being a fail too
Guest_03: is there a meet?
Guest_17: yeah 15:00 at shift break
Guest_03: waste of time. all talk, no walk
Guest_17: not anymore. Sick of this **** as you
Guest_17: you sure you’re gtg?
Guest_03: just sit back and watch the fireworks
Guest_03: and relax ffs, you’ll live longer
Guest_17: you know none of us are going to live through this
Guest_03: maybe not
Guest_03: but we’ll live longer than these BeiTech ***holes, at least
Guest_03: they can keep our seats warm in hell
Footage begins with an audio track only. There’s a hiss of static as systems come online. The bass drone of engines rumbling over the tremors of atmospheric reentry and snatches of soft conversation.
“—so I said to her, ‘Fem, I didn’t see your name on him, and if you can’t kee—’ ”
“—nly been three weeks since our last rotation, chum. This is bull—”
“—frostbite. Lost both hands and his nose if you—”
“—insurgency my***—”
A flicker of snow rolls across my screens as the feeds fade into view.
We’re in the belly of a BeiTech Locust—a surface-to-orbit shuttle built for heavy lifting during planetside incursions. The surfaces are gunmetal gray, lit by strips of scuffed red fluorescence. A wall of monitors dances with data. The ship’s a military transport, armored and armed for business. On the rear bay doors, beneath the phoenix logo of BeiTech Industries, three words are spray-painted in neat stenciled letters.
The holy trinity of every corp grunt’s life.
COMPANY
COMMANDER
CORPS
The Locust’s belly is filled with soldiers. Orbital infantry, aka “ground pounders,” trained for atmo-to-surface seizure operations. Two dozen men and women, most in their early twenties, each busy encasing themselves in the sleek lines of an Armored Tactical Light Assault Suit’s plasteel and ballistics-grade nanofiber weave, painted in the white and gray of winter camouflage. They look like a cross between praying mantises and knights from the archive vids, except Sir Lancelot never carried a gun big enough to kill a building with.
Every ATLAS is fitted with a shoulder-mounted personal cam. The footage quality from their feeds is good, audio is excellent. I’ll say one thing for BeiTech: When they plan an illegal planetary invasion/genocide, they don’t spare any expense.
One soldier stands out in the crowd. Quiet amid the familiar banter. He’s younger than the rest. Eighteen, maybe nineteen. His ATLAS is showroom new; no dings or scuffs or scars, none of the hand-drawn decorations that distinguish one pounder’s faceless suit from another. He has a square jaw. Sharp gray eyes, just a touch too wide. Sandy blond hair, styled into a quiff that, if it doesn’t violate regulations, damn well should. It sure as **** violates the laws of gravity. One of my fellow vid analysts—who insists on peering over my shoulder as I work—says she would “hit that like it owed her all the ISĦ in the ’verse.”
The name LINDSTROM, RHYS is stenciled on his breastplate.
Pretty as the kid might be, when his fellow soldiers look at him at all, they do it with narrowed eyes.
“****ing cherry…,” one sneers.
“Green as grass.”
“He old enough to have turf on the pitch, you think?”
“Ask your sister.”
“Hey, ****you, Oshiro.”
“Say please, loverboy.”
LINDSTROM, RHYS, stays silent during the exchange. Frowning at the power couplings on his ATLAS. He practically has an I HAVE NEVER WORN ONE OF THESE BEFORE sign flashing over his head, but none of his squaddies offer to help with the rig.
“Ten-hut! Officer on deck!”
Lindstrom and his fellow soldiers snap to attention as an armored figure stalks into the bay, boots thudding on
temperfoam floors. He’s built like a tank, not wearing his helmet yet. Dark eyes and short salt-and-pepper hair. Tā-moko tattooed on one half of a grizzled face. The name CHRISTIE is stenciled on the battered breastplate next to his lieutenant’s pips. The words I AM YOUR GOD NOW are neatly handwritten above it.
He surveys his troops, appraising each in turn.
“At ease.”
The soldiers relax slightly, feet apart, hands behind backs.
“Good morning, pounders.”
“Morning, sir!” come two dozen barks.
“I know we had no time for a full briefing before dusting off from the Churchill. Apologies for interrupting your beauty sleep. **** knows Woźniak could use some more.”
A hulking soldier with a face like a dropped pie grins wide as the lieutenant smirks in his direction. The name WOŹNIAK is printed on his breastplate, but he’s scribbled it out and written DUKE above it. His scars are numerous, fresh and, given the nanotech a frontline BeiTech unit is packing, probably left there by request.
“I’m also aware we had four more sols before our next Kerenza rotation was due to commence,” Lieutenant Christie continues. “So skipping the foreplay, here’s the sitrep:
“At 23:47 last night, Kerenza IV time, a malfunction occurred in the internal environment system of the Kerenza town hall, which had been refitted as our officers’ barracks. As a result, the system began pumping pure CO into the hall. By the time the system fault was discovered, thirty-seven of our officers were dead of carbon monoxide poisoning.”