by Gorman, K.
“Regent, we’re being hailed,” said new Communications Specialist Asner. “The Aquila.”
“Put her up.”
This time, instead of spreading the screen, Grand Regent Nolen appeared at the edge, blocking a useless part of the map.
“Grand Regent Nolen, I see you did not evacuate Leonessa,” she said.
“You’re terrible at military strategy. Did you know that?”
Karin didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she chewed her tongue, considering the screen in front of her. Grand Regent Lora Nolen was a hawk of a woman, with blue eyes that sparked with an intensity and a set of lips that could so easily twist into a sneer.
Under different circumstances, she might have liked her.
Now, she was just in her way. And Karin didn’t have time for her.
None of them did.
She sighed and leaned onto one hip. “You just aren’t going to stop, are you?”
At the side of the command station, Tillerman grew very still.
“Never,” Nolen hissed. “You are a disgrace, and I will not live a day longer with the Tri-Quad in your hands.”
“That’s…too bad. I’d meant to give you a show of power by destroying an empty, high-valued ship. However, I can see that you won’t take reason, even when faced with the literal annihilation of our species and its history, and the universe as we know it. While I regret the deaths that are about to occur, I simply do not have the time to continuously deal with you.”
There was another call coming in from Fallon, but she ignored it. “Leonessa will live, but you and Aquila will die. Goodbye, Grand Regent Lora Nolen.”
And, with that, she focused on the Aquila through the ship’s windows, reached out through the dimensional fields, and sliced it in half.
Chapter Twenty
The sun hit her eye with a glare, and Eva winced, lifting a hand to block it as she stepped out from the shadow of the compound. It was always bright in high summer, after the monsoons had rolled through, and the entire parking lot shone with water and long, shallow puddles that filled its dips and cracks.
Up ahead, Dr. Corringham―Bernard, the older one―waited beside his car with the passenger’s door open.
She glanced down at the new school shoes they’d bought her―shiny black leather, like she’d seen private school girls wear on television―and edged around the next puddle, not wanting to get them dirty.
“Where are we going?” she called across the lot.
“A special dinner and a few nights in the city,” he answered. “Did you bring your pill box and ID? We’ll be flying.”
A plane? She perked up. She hadn’t been on one for a few months. If they needed her ID, that meant they were going into one of the larger cities. Sao Paulo perhaps, though it was a bit of a ways. Manaus, more likely.
This was atypical. Normally, the kids at the compound flew out once a year, and usually not until December. The main company’s execs lived on Nova Earth, and getting away for travel through the ERL gate was a hassle.
They could just stay on Nova and invite us all over there. I wouldn’t mind seeing the planet.
That, and gate travel sounded particularly fun. She wondered how it would interact with her powers.
In hindsight, that’s probably why they haven’t invited me.
“I’ve got everything.” She glanced back at the compound building. “Are the others not coming?”
“No. They wanted to see you, specifically.” He opened the door wider for her as she reached the car, taking her bag for her. “It’s amazing you made it this far with your powers so stable, you know?”
She gave him a look. “It’s evolution.”
“Yes, well, we helped it along more than a bit, and often, Mother Nature doesn’t like that. Here. I got this for your hair.”
He produced a small plumeria bloom from his pocket, likely cut from the tree in the pot on his office’s balcony. The faded white and yellow matched its coloring.
She raised an eyebrow. “You playing the race card?”
Although she had been created in a test tube and developed in an artificial womb in Brazil, all of her genetic sources had been native Hawai’ian in origin. His reasoning had been largely incidental―a simple experiment to see whether homogeneity affected the success rate of the Eurynome Project Programs.
But this wasn’t the first plumeria she’d received.
“They’re thinking of offering you a scholarship in one of Nova’s universities, but you are not the only one being considered. They are also hesitant because of what you can do.”
“They’re afraid I’ll end the world,” she said. “And their world, specifically, because I’ll be located on Nova and going through the usual unpredictable emotional binge of a college student out for her first years of independence.”
“Yes,” he said.
“That’s stupid. My powers are an asset to my studies. Program Chaos is a creation goddess.”
“These are people who do not read the reports very intensely. Terms like ‘chaos’ and ‘pocket dimension’ and ‘quantum fields’ raise flags.”
In that case, they should be more worried about you.
She took the flower from him. “So, I’m playing dumb?”
“Politically dumb, academically average but earnest―not a threat―mostly demure and shy. Wear the flower. It’ll help make you stand out as more than just another brown girl from an impoverished country.”
Her jawline slackened as his words hit.
Christ, racist much?
He shut the door before she could respond and walked around the front of the car. She closed her mouth and decided to let it go, smoothing her skirt over her knees and glancing at the two overnight bags on the back seat. They’d packed enough for three days, which meant that he planned more than just a simple dinner with company business execs. Shopping, most likely. He always brought some form of alcohol back for the shelf of his office. She rarely saw him drink it. That was more the younger doctor’s play―Elliot—rather than Bernard.
Bernard was…different. More intense.
She smoothed her skirt again, her hands betraying her nerves. In her lap, the brightness of the plumeria bloom stood out against the deep navy blue of the skirt’s material.
He got in and shut the door. The noises from outside quieted. Already, the humidity was dying down in the car. The vehicle started with the press of a button and a fingerprint scan, the electric engine little more than a hum, and pulled out of the spot with the crackle of tires on broken concrete. The air conditioner tripped on after a few seconds. There were still drops of rain on the windshield from earlier.
She smoothed her skirt a third time.
“You think they’ll give it to me?” she asked. “The scholarship?”
“I hope they do.” Under the trees, Dr. Corringham’s eyes reflected a green, shadowy tinge. “You’re one if the smartest students I’ve had the pleasure of teaching.”
“I could come back and help with Eurynome.”
“We would be lucky to have you.”
A warm flutter rose in her chest. She directed her gaze out the window.
The Eurynome Project…it could change the world. Elevate all of humanity to a new understanding.
And, with her powers, she’d make sure it did.
Chapter Twenty-One
It was like watching a wreck in slow motion. Half the Aquila went dark, and a blast of air burst out into space from the breach, pushing the ship’s two halves apart. Lights flickered, and debris shot into space, along with hundreds of people. She got one second where Nolen’s expression had shifted and her head half-turned, body bracing against something, and then the feed cut.
Her frozen picture remained on the screen, a ‘call lost’ notification flashing in the corner.
Through the windows, Karin watched the Aquila fall apart.
Around her, the bridge was dead silent except for the slow beep of the lost signal.
She shifted her attention from th
e windows to the holoscreen. “Take the call feed down and zoom in cameras, please.”
“Yes, Regent.”
“Life pods ejecting,” one of the nav techs said. “Do I target?”
“No. I’m not going to track them down. Not yet, anyway. How are our target-locks?”
“One gone, fourteen still active,” Captain Arnelli said, a touch of dryness to his voice.
“Send out a wide-spectrum broadcast to all Center Core ships: I do not wish to engage them, and I will only do so if they continue to pose a threat and interfere. If I am forced to re-engage, I will deal with all of them. Send another message directly to Leonessa and let her know that she is out of my targets and that I have no intention of engaging her unless she instigates. Let me know when it is sent, and take us back to our fleet.”
She wiped at the blood coming from her nose, leaving another red smear on her forearm armor. Tillerman was staring at her, a mix of careful emotions on her expression.
“Yes, Commander?” she prompted.
Her jaw muscles tensed inside her cheek, and she hardened her expression. “It’s nothing, Regent.”
“Clearly, it’s not. Did you have a question? I promise I won’t care or be offended.”
She hesitated. “You didn’t have to kill them. You could have put them in the other world, couldn’t you?”
“I could have, yes. They would have been safe, most likely, and they would have been out of the way. If they wandered, I could have simply hunted them down when this was all over and transported them back. They likely had enough supplies on board to survive that. However, it wouldn’t just have been them―most likely, I would have had to transport their entire fleet over. I still may have to, depending on how they react. Then, they may have posed a risk for when we inevitably find ourselves back in the Shadow world again, only this time we would be fighting for the survival of the universe. Mostly, it would have been more effort. This method was more efficient.” Seeing the barely-concealed disgust on Tillerman’s face, she tugged her lips into a thin line and gave her a grim sneer. “You forgot, Commander. I am a psychopath.”
“Regent, seven target-locks have disengaged,” Captain Arnelli said.
“Thank you. Captain, Commander, take us back to our fleet. Let me know if any of those other target locks fire on us, I’ll take us back to the Shadow world.” She glanced over. “I’m going to get out of this armor. Specialist Malouf, if you would be so kind?”
Malouf, who had been leaning against a wall close to one of the stations, gave a nod and pushed off, leading the way back to the door.
It hissed closed behind them.
He offered her the cloth again.
She shook her head. “No, I think it’s my own blood, this time.”
“There is a Med bay in your quarters,” he said. “Do you need help out of your armor?”
“No. It’s easy to take off alone. Just awkward.” She gave him a terse smile. “Thanks for the offer.”
He bobbed his head. “I would have found a female attendant for you.”
“I’m sure.”
The comms device in her pocket rang. She pulled it out and pressed the button. “Yes?”
Tillerman’s voice came out. “Regent, all target-locks have disengaged.”
“Thank you, Commander. Let’s leave them be.”
“We’re being hailed. Fallon, Alliance, UN, Mars, and a private vessel.”
Her eyebrows twitched. “A private vessel?”
“The Golden Haiku, Regent. Freighter, by the looks of her. They hailed the former Regent before. I believe they’re trying to sell you some of their stock. They carry sub-grade electronics, by the catalog they sent.”
Her jaw slackened for a moment, and amusement bubbled through her gut.
“That’s pretty ballsy, selling shitty electronics to a foreign superpower who specializes in cybernetics.”
“Indeed.”
“You know what? Tell them to re-send the catalog. I think we could use a laugh. Make sure to scan the hell out of it, though. I don’t want any random fucking viruses getting into our networks if they are not who they pretend to be.”
“Yes, Regent. And the others?”
“Tell them that Center Core fired on us first and that, unless they do the same, they are not a military threat to us and that I’ll speak with them in an hour. Let me know if they target-lock.”
“Yes, Regent.”
The slight ring of static vanished as the commander signed off.
“Christ,” she said.
Malouf flinched. “I…wouldn’t use that word around Centauri. It’s blasphemous.”
Her eyebrows twitched. “Really? Because I’ve definitely heard a Centauri use it before.”
“Really,” he said, his tone firm.
All right, then. She could work with that. Thanks to her usual companions, her vocabulary of swears was almost indefinite.
“I’ll make a note of that,” she said. “And I’ll tell my sister. She might try to avoid it.”
The comms device rang again.
At least this time, she hadn’t put it back in her pocket yet.
“Yes?”
“Your old ship, Nemina, has launched from Earth and is hailing one of our ships. They’re requesting docking permission and an audience.”
Ah.
“Is my sister on board?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Please direct them to Artemide and find a place for them. I’ll meet them down there after I change. Thank you, Commander.”
“Yes, Regent.”
As she put the comms device down, she had a thought.
She brought it back up again. “Commander?”
“Yes?”
“Who’s piloting her?”
“Sergeant Tian Adan Reeve.”
Tillerman’s voice was flat.
She sighed. “How long until they arrive?”
“Ten minutes.”
The call ended, and she put the device in her pocket. Then she put her hands on her hips, closed her eyes, and tilted her head back.
At this rate, I’m never going to see the inside of my new quarters.
When she opened her eyes, Malouf was standing nearby, watching her.
“All right,” she said. “I guess we’re going down to the ship bays, instead.”
He nodded. “I’ll get the docking address from the Commander and show you down there.”
* * *
Ten minutes later, the Nemina was maglocked to the floor in the Artemide’s impressive C-block hangar, her blocky, angular form looking oddly at home against the backdrop of Centauri scouts, droneships, and fighters.
Karin stood at the head of a small party, stifling a yawn and rubbing the side of her nose.
The nosebleed had stopped, but that headache was looming. And her eyes were beginning to get that raw, scratchy feeling that indicated they’d been open for too long.
When was the last time I slept? I swear it was recently.
Yes, it was. About seven hours ago.
Maybe she just needed to eat. And be somewhere that didn’t involve transporting entire large ships into the Shadow world and back and overtaxing her brain.
I hope Takahashi came along. I wouldn’t mind getting a checkup.
Oddly, he was the only one whose opinion she trusted about that sort of thing. Well, him and Tia, but she had little choice about her.
Marc came out first, looking lean and dark. He’d changed since she’d last seen him, now wearing a pair of beige pants, a pale blue shirt, and a brown leather jacket that had a bright red and gold inlay down its sleeves. Nomiki followed, still in her armor, and then Soo-jin with her usual post-punk attire, though she’d done up the make-up.
Takahashi appeared behind them, carrying the diagnostics crown in his hand like a peace offering.
She let out a breath and relaxed.
Good.
Cookie and Shinji came out next, the two openly gaping at the size of the hangar, and B
ella followed, an addition that made her eyebrow twitch.
As a biomechanics and cyberization expert, she’d probably offered her soul for a seat on the Nemina.
Then came Kalinsky, followed closely by Reeve and Baik.
She pinned Reeve with a stare, her mood sinking.
“Tillerman, Reeve doesn’t go anywhere without an escort. Your choice of who he gets.”
“Yes, Regent. And the others?”
“Baik’s fine. Kalinsky…” She chewed her tongue, thinking. “He’s the one who tipped me off about being Grand Regent.”
Tillerman grunted. “Tips come with a price.”
“Yes, and I wonder what his is.” She narrowed her eyes. “We’ll be nice to him, but…don’t let him wander without surveillance. He’s an interesting individual.”
And bold, too, if his actions in the elevator were anything to judge by.
“As you wish, Regent.”
She stepped forward, her gaze flicking over the group.
Soo-jin gave her a friendly wave as she strode over. “Sol’s child, Karin, this ship is sweet.”
“That, she is.” She met Marc’s eyes over Soo-jin’s head. He looked…grim and uncertain. A lot had happened since their last talk, and all of her suspicions had blown up in a spectacular fashion.
His eyes searched hers, then dropped down. “Is that blood?”
“Don’t worry, it’s mostly not mine.” The corners of her lips tugged briefly to flash him a thin smile, then she turned to address the group. “All right, you, you, you, you, you, you, you, and…you, I’ll talk to you in my quarters,” she said, pointing to Marc, Nomiki, Soo-jin, Takahashi, Shinji, and Cookie, and hesitating before she included Bella and Baik, as well―if they’d brought her with them, she was their responsibility, and Baik had taken a knife for her, once. “Sergeant Reeve, Delegate Kalinsky…” She tilted her head, considering, then turned to Tillerman. “Commander, do we have a nice, fancy room for hosting VIPs?”
“Yes, Regent.”
“Beautiful. Please, take them there and have someone offer refreshments. Gentlemen, I’ll speak with you in roughly an hour. I have some things to attend to.”