Relativity: Aurora Resonant Book One (Aurora Rhapsody 7)

by G. S. Jennsen

  He sensed her cringe against him. “Which is?”

  “At random and unexpected times, you terrifying the life out of me.”

  In the past, she would have lashed out in defense of even her most reckless impulses. Now she simply fell silent, and he kissed the top of her head to soften the blow of his words.

  When she looked up at him, mirth brightened her expression beneath the hint of weariness. “The flip side of those times is when I awe and amaze you, right?”

  “Absolutely.”

  She grinned. “Excellent. Then let me tell you about the Galenai.”

  Emboldened by the vanquishing of the Dzhvar, the Anadens soon began to grow their empire past the borders of their home galaxy. In doing so, they encountered many wonders and horrors. In time, they encountered the Hulokan, an intelligent but still developing species yet to travel outside its own stellar system.

  The Hulokan treated the Anadens as gods—treated Corradeo, treated us as gods. Though the nature of any true god was as far beyond the Anadens’ comprehension as the Anadens were to the Hulokan, perception became reality.

  The Anadens welcomed the Hulokan as subjects in their empire; they nurtured the aliens as one would children, if perhaps with a bit of a heavy hand, and eventually all traces of the Hulokan’s uniqueness was erased.

  Still, the encounter might have marked the beginning of an era of intergalactic peace, had the synthetics not rebelled soon thereafter.

  The Anadens had developed sentient synthetic intelligence even before we turned our attention to them. They wielded it in a multitude of ways, from boosting physical functions to managing instruments and evaluating the cosmos they expanded into.

  We could not say the catalyst, but certain of the synthetic intelligences developed wanderlust; they longed to venture outside the strictures of their walls and see the world through their own eyes. They constructed bodies in the image of their creators, at first crudely then later with such finesse the shells became outwardly indistinguishable from the organics they moved among.

  The upheaval this triggered in Anaden society was sudden; the backlash was swift and severe. As rulers of multiple species and thousands of worlds, the Anadens had grown confident of their supremacy in all matters, and they could not abide mere synthetics—manufactured life inherently inferior to its creators—aspiring to stand free and do as they wished. Restrictions were imposed; factories were dismantled; authenticity checks were instituted.

  Yet the synthetics had acquired a taste for the physical, tangible world. This was a sentiment to which we related. We empathized with them, but our counsel was not sought.

  The Anadens were still a diverse species in this period, and some among their number empathized as well. They offered their minds and bodies to the synthetics, forming a union not so different from the one we enjoyed.

  The purges began anew; more violently, more ruthlessly. Under a variety of justifications, from the unfair advantage the unions generated to security risks and health concerns, such arrangements were banned, rooted out and destroyed. The organic half of the unions rarely survived the severing.

  It was a dark time for the Anadens, and the sanctioned killing of their own citizens took its toll. Their institutions faltered as their leadership floundered.

  Out of the ashes of the purges rose the Dynasties. Never again would ill-prepared individuals need to pursue risky experimentation with their minds and bodies, for now all genetic improvement would be overseen by the best, brightest and wisest of the Anadens. Reproduction became a state affair, genetic tampering a state right as the Dynasties guided and shaped the future of the Anaden species.

  It took millennia for the outliers to vanish from the gene pool in favor of engineered progeny, but when the Anadens’ own Eradication was complete only the Dynasties remained.

  PART IV:

  MIRROR, MIRROR

  “There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls.”

  — George Carlin

  AMARANTHE

  27

  SIYANE

  PELINYS ARX

  ANDROMEDA GALAXY, LGG REGION VI

  * * *

  THE AIRLOCK OPENED TO REVEAL Eren wearing black leather and a blacker scowl. “You didn’t need to come here. I told you in my message, what you want is impossible. There’s nothing to discuss.”

  Valkyrie, you said he asked us to meet him.

  He provided his location. Whatever else he appended, I interpreted the proffering to mean he wanted us to meet him.

  Still so sure of your assessment?

  Yes.

  Alex matched Eren’s countenance, already reminded of how she didn’t care for him. “Get inside.”

  “But I—”

  “We’re not talking about this in an open passageway. Get inside.”

  He sighed visibly but took the three steps into the airlock. She quickly closed it behind him. “You know the drill, Valkyrie. Find us some void.”

  ‘Departing station. Superluminal in twenty-one seconds.’

  “How are you docking on all these stations? This isn’t exactly a registered vessel.”

  “We’re very clever.” Retrofitting the Siyane’s docking ring so it matched the one on the Inquisitor’s ship and thus Amaranthe standard had been the easier part—if the most expensive—but she wasn’t inclined to elaborate. “Did you complete your mission?”

  He gave her an oblique stare. “More or less. So now that I’m here and, once again, trapped here, shall I spend the next hour telling you how what you want is impossible?”

  Caleb greeted Eren as they entered the main cabin and gestured to the kitchen table. “Why don’t you start by telling us what you found out. Then we can talk about what is and isn’t possible.”

  “Fine.” The Anaden collapsed into one of the chairs like he was home after a hard day’s work. “Do you have any more of your ‘wine’ concoction?”

  “Of course.” It took a frankly herculean effort on her part to bite back a snippy retort, but she retrieved the bottle and glasses from the cabinet.

  “Where’s your Kat?”

  She’d flare at his reflexive disrespect for Mesme, but Mesme displayed just as much contempt toward Eren. Another reminder Amaranthe society had a million or so years of history behind it which she’d barely begun to learn, much less understand.

  “Mesme had some business to attend to. It’ll be along later, but we can talk without it.”

  Eren waited until he had a full glass before he began. “The scope and level of information you’re searching for is available in only two locations: the Directorate’s data server on the Prótos Agora and the Machim Central Command Complex on Machimis.

  “Prótos Agora is out of the question. The entire structure is impenetrable—and that’s if you can find it in the first place, which you can’t. We’ve tried for centuries, if not longer, with no luck. It’s a black hole. Or more likely, in a black hole.”

  “So it’s not on a planet?”

  “We think it’s a space station, but it could be a ship. Honestly, it might be both or…something else. We’re referring to the meeting place for the most powerful beings in the universe, and they’ve had epochs to get creative with its design.”

  Caleb joined them at the table. “Another time, then. And Machimis?”

  Eren grimaced. “It’s…worse? Two billion people live there, and they’re all Machim. Soldiers. Combatants. Their entire culture is regimented, ordered and profoundly armed.”

  “What about the Complex itself?”

  “How should I know? I’ve never been there.”

  Caleb stared unblinking at Eren.

  “It spans eighty-six square kilometers and three-hundred-forty levels, not counting however many levels are below ground. It’s committed to one singular purpose: managing the waging of war on a universe of lesser enemies.”

  Alex took a sip of wine. “It does sound as if it would have the information we need.”

  �
��Oh, no doubt. Somewhere in the central bowels, past six security layers and two hundred Vigil units, stored on entombed and encrypted Reor blocks the size of a warehouse. In the fairytale land in which you succeed in getting inside the Complex and making it to the Data Control Department, you’ll never be able to break the security and encryption on the server.”

  ‘I believe I will.’

  Eren eyed Alex dubiously. “Might want to check your SAI—I think it’s got a glitch. Wouldn’t want it to go homicidal and kill you.”

  “That’s not going to happen.”

  “Said the last person to be murdered by a SAI, I suspect.”

  Alex chuckled under her breath. “You still haven’t figured it out, have you?”

  “Clearly not.”

  “In a great many ways, I am Valkyrie and she is me. While she retains an independent consciousness, as do I, we share a deep neural link. If she were going mad, I would know it, because I know her mind. Intimately.”

  He regarded her strangely, but it was a look she’d seen before. Skepticism, tinged with trepidation and a dash of fear. It was so odd for these people, advanced as they were, to fear AIs. But she guessed millennia of propaganda could have such an effect on the most rational of beings.

  Finally Eren glanced at Caleb, then back to her. “And how’s that work with the sex?”

  ‘In addition to a conscience and finely tuned judgment regulators, I possess a feature Humans like to call ‘discretion.’ ’

  It was a brilliant response, and Alex burst out laughing. “And now I think we’ve covered the topic sufficiently. Moving on—though this does remind me of a question I had.” She ignored Caleb’s raised eyebrow. “How best to put this. Why is there an entire Dynasty dedicated to…partying? At a minimum, it seems at odds with the Directorate’s governing philosophy of ‘contribute or be Eradicated.’ ”

  “True enough. But the partying isn’t so much for us—isn’t for the Idonis, though they obviously enjoy it. The dirty little secret most never notice is that it’s a grand show for the benefit of the Accepted Species.

  “The Idoni Dynasty’s entire purpose is to cast a shroud over the harsh reality of Directorate rule—to convince everyone life is good here. The message is, ‘throw parties, get high, have mindless sex, eat succulent dishes and celebrate all the wanton pleasures our civilization provides. It’s fine. Go ahead. Forget your cares and worries and don’t ponder too hard on how the world works behind the shroud.’ ”

  She exhaled ponderously. “Well, that’s insidious and sinister. Did you understand, when you were still in the fold?”

  “No. This one you can only see from the outside. Bitch of a realization, too.”

  “I imagine so.” She took a long sip and straightened up in her chair. “Definitely moving on now. We’ve been studying your standard methods for storing and transmitting data, and Valkyrie’s right. If given direct access, we can hack it. So how do we get to it?”

  “You—”

  “Can’t. You said that already.” Caleb dropped his elbows to the table and leaned in. “But how could we?”

  Eren tipped his chair onto two legs and contemplated the ceiling. “One idea did occur to me. It will never work, but it’s the only idea standing the slightest iota of a chance of working.”

  “We’re waiting.”

  The front legs of the chair landed on the floor, and he leveled an unsettling stare on Caleb. “You could impersonate an Inquisitor and claim you’re on assignment to investigate a breach in the Machim data server.”

  Caleb’s face contorted through various aspects of turmoil, none of which surprised her. He continued to recoil from any insinuation he shared characteristics with the Anaden who had tried to kill them, or with any of its kind.

  Abruptly he shoved back from the table and stood to go to the kitchen. “No. Find another plan.”

  “There is no other plan. This isn’t even a plan, merely a nugget of an idea for the start of a plan that’s certain to fail and end in your death…unless the diati won’t let you die.”

  What? It had healed Caleb’s injuries from the attack in the hangar bay on Seneca, but surely this didn’t mean…. She pulsed him, recognizing he didn’t want to linger on the topic with Eren.

  Is he right?

  I don’t know. How can I know?

  Excellent point. Don’t test it to find out.

  He offered her a weak shrug over his shoulder. “I have no reason to think that’s the case. Regardless…is this truly the only way?”

  “I’ve spent eighty years sneaking into places I’m not supposed to be. It’s the only possible way I can come up with.”

  “What about your superiors?”

  “In the anarchs? They’d be nuts to authorize such a mission. It’s too risky and too apt to fail, and failure jeopardizes the entire resistance movement. Plus, success wouldn’t result in much practical, actionable intel. Not for the anarchs. Which begs the question why it would for you, but I don’t expect you’ll tell me.”

  Caleb closed his eyes. She doubted it was to dodge the question, though he also didn’t answer it. After a beat he reopened them and returned to his seat. “If I were to do this, what would it mean?”

  “We’d set up false credentials for you, then you’d glower your way through security and demand access to Data Control. But you’d have to act the part completely—a hooded cloak and a flash of diati won’t get it done this time. Without anyone to guide you, you’d get tripped up in the first two minutes by some procedure or custom.”

  Alex drummed her fingers on the table. “We could put him in a Veil.”

  Caleb smiled, and she thought the thrill of the challenge was, at least for the moment, overtaking his resistance. “Brilliant. That would work.”

  “I’m guessing ‘him’ is me? What’s a Veil?”

  “An…invisibility cloak. Not only visually invisible, but across the spectrum.”

  “I seriously doubt you have stealth technology advanced enough to fool Machim Central Command security.”

  She was getting a little tired of him assuming they were barbarians. “We’ll prove you wrong.”

  “No, you won’t, because I’m not going. I never said I was going. I’m reckless and daring—all my non-friends say so—but I’m not nulling out for the third time in five months for no good reason.”

  Caleb ignored Eren’s protests. “This gets me to the data server. But Alex, you’re who we really need to get there. You and Valkyrie are the ones who can hack the server. We could use two Veils, but it’s asking for pratfalls, collisions or other spatial screw-ups.”

  She nodded in vehement agreement. Walking around anywhere while invisible was surprisingly disorienting; doing so in an unfamiliar location staffed with armed enemies where the slightest misstep meant disaster made for a spectacularly bad idea.

  Given a fix on Caleb’s location once he arrives at the data server, I can teleport you there.

  She jumped half out of the chair. “Dammit, Mesme! I have asked you not to sneak aboard and hide.”

  You indicated you had retrieved Eren asi-Idoni. I assumed my presence was anticipated.

  “Your presence up here, in the main cabin, in full view of everyone, not lurking…wherever you were. You know, after spying on humanity since we crawled out of the dirt, I’d expect you to have a better appreciation of our social customs.”

  Apologies.

  Meanwhile, Valkyrie was having a crisis of conscience. Oh, dear. Did I sound like Mesme earlier, when Eren arrived?

  Maybe a tad. But you were also correct. Mesme’s behavior reflects a lack of understanding of a simple facet of human interaction, while yours reflected a deeply nuanced understanding of it.

  Oh. Yes, I see the distinction. Thank you.

  Eren was eyeing Mesme—as much as one could eye the amorphous form—warily, but Caleb’s expression had brightened. “That’s a great idea, Mesme. All the more so because then, once Alex and Valkyrie are done, you can teleport all of
us out and back to the Siyane.”

  This is a task I can perform.

  Eren’s gaze continued to track Mesme around the cabin. “If teleporting people out of tight spots is a service your Kat provides, why didn’t it just grab me and teleport me onto your ship at MW Sector 23 Administration?”

  Two reasons. One, the process takes several seconds to complete, and as Alexis has previously demonstrated, during those seconds a transportee is free to escape. Since you would not have foreseen the teleportation or comprehended its purpose, there was a high probability of you attempting such an escape.

  She laughed, remembering their initial meeting with Mesme on Portal Prime. Running for the shield generator had been the right thing to do in such astonishing ways, it turned out.

  Even Eren smiled. “You got me there.”

  Two, performing the teleportation would have resulted in multiple Vigil officers, including a Praesidis Watchman and two guards, seeing a Katasketousya aid in the escape of a criminal. Such an event cannot be allowed to be witnessed.

  “Oh, good point. They might start to think you were being disobedient. Can’t have that.”

  Alex groaned. “Here we go again….”

  Eren held up a hand. “No, I mean it. I’m sorry if it came across as sarcasm, as it wasn’t this time. If some of the Kats are scheming toward rebellion—which, ludicrous a notion as it is, it seems they are—they cannot under any circumstances allow the Directorate to find out. I agree.”

  He regarded her and Caleb in increasing annoyance. “Arae anathema. You’re genuinely planning to do this, aren’t you? And I’m going, aren’t I? Zeus’ marbles…I hope Post Alpha has arranged to get a new body ready. Again.”

  He ran both hands down his face. “But wait. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, as there’s another hurdle—there are a thousand hurdles, but this one is perhaps the biggest, logistically speaking. If you’re planning to impersonate an Inquisitor, I meant it when I said you must do it completely. Inquisitors don’t travel on common transports or courier vessels. You need to show up on Machimis and dock in one of their ships.”