Aurora Renegades

by G. S. Jennsen

Miriam arched an eyebrow. “I am trying.”

  “And doing an impressive job of it.” The woman paused, then brought up her hand in a crisp salute. “Good luck to you, Admiral.”

  Miriam almost didn’t return the salute. She still harbored mixed feelings, unresolved issues and a complicated, ugly acrimony with respect to the woman and what she’d once done.

  But Miriam also had manners, and whatever sins the past held, Eleni had done a great deal of good in the present. So she did return it.

  “And to you, Field Marshal.”

  Miriam remained in the conference room after Eleni departed. She wanted a moment to reorient. The entire Volnosti operation was constantly in flux as they worked to adapt to quickly changing circumstances and new information.

  If the Federation’s Prevo protection bill was going to pass, the dynamics were poised to transform yet again. H+ wasn’t perfect, but if she could trade BANIA for it, she’d hang up her hat and call it a day.

  The passage would shift the overall balance strongly in favor of Prevo rights, with the Alliance becoming the sole hold-out—and not the entire Alliance. However, it also risked antagonizing OTS; desperation bred recklessness, making them even more dangerous, if such a thing was possible.

  She opened four screens and had Thomas fill them with data. Arguably too much data, as she found she wasn’t able to concentrate on any particular item for more than a few seconds before her mind drifted to one place or another.

  Strategy. Eleni, then David. Alex.

  She looked up in relief as Richard entered, glad for the distraction. “Come in and keep me company.”

  He lounged against the wall. “I passed Field Marshal Gianno on her way out. As I was walking away, a crazy notion occurred to me. Did you know what was going to happen when you asked me to go to Seneca and work for Graham?”

  “Don’t be silly, Richard. How could I possibly have known any of this would happen?”

  “No clue. So did you?”

  She laughed. “Not precisely, of course. But I could see the storm coming, and while I hoped it could be defused, I needed to prepare as if it wouldn’t be.”

  “So I was one of your chess pieces, then.”

  “One of my absolutely most important, crucial ones.”

  Her tone was mirthful, and he abandoned his attempt at a stern expression to settle into the chair opposite her. “Rumor has it, Isas Onishi is livid over OTS bombing the Astral Materials home office on Scythia.”

  “I don’t need a rumor to tell me that.”

  “No, but what you might not be aware of is Mr. Onishi has the ear of the Scythia governor. Both of them are quite done with OTS, and they are not happy with how little Winslow’s administration is doing to combat the group. Also, Onishi has been using Artificials in his business for twenty years, which means he isn’t happy about BANIA’s restrictions.”

  She scowled in growing frustration. “Yes, but many people affected by them are unhappy about the new restrictions. As we’ve seen, being unhappy is a long way from doing something to change it.”

  “Agreed. But Onishi isn’t one to sit idly by, and the governor has a reputation as something of a maverick.”

  “You’re suggesting I should reach out to the governor.”

  Richard held up a finger. “One more tidbit. Six years ago Astral Materials claimed the rights to what’s colloquially called a ‘diamond planet,’ one composed almost entirely of an ultra-dense form of crystallized carbon. Since mining of the planet began, Onishi has made over a billion credits from it, nearly doubling his net worth in the process. Do you know who found and claimed it for him?”

  If it mattered as much as Richard was intimating, there existed only one possible answer. “Alex?”

  “Correct.”

  Six years ago…. “That’s how she was able to afford the loft, among other luxuries.”

  “You’ll have to ask her, but it’s a reasonable assumption. She’s fulfilled at least five contracts for Onishi over the years, including another big one last year which netted him an asteroid belt’s worth of super strong heavy metals. The point is, he owes Alex, and he almost certainly thinks highly of her. Use it. My professional assessment is that Onishi and the Scythia governor are ready to take a stand. All you need to do is assure them they will have your support. And by ‘support,’ they’ll mean protection.”

  Miriam recognized the familiar pang of regret. She’d missed so much of her daughter’s life, ignored so many of her accomplishments along the way. She should have been proud. Perhaps she’d traveled some distance to making up for her mistakes this last year, but she’d never get the lost chances back.

  She blew out a long breath and nodded. “All right. If Scythia joins Messium in our corner, Winslow won’t be able to ignore it. Let’s make this happen.”

  14

  AQUILA

  Earth Alliance Colony

  * * *

  Kennedy approached the podium with an unhurried but purposeful stride. It had been a while since she’d needed to perform for the self-chosen commercial nobility, but not so long she’d forgotten how it was done.

  Conservative but stylish hunter green pantsuit. Unruly curls tamed into elegant submission. Tasteful jewelry which shone brightly enough to remind them all she belonged here.

  Damn straight she did.

  The presentation room at Surno Materials was ostentatious, and not subtly so. The natural teak floors had been buffed to a perfect sheen, and the marble podium was supple and cool to the touch. The holo projected in front of her showing the audience at the Chamber meeting in Hong Kong displayed a fidelity nearly equal to the newest wave of illusoires. She could be standing there among them.

  The quality was high enough for her to be able to feel their mood, to sense when she was winning or losing them.

  “Thank you all for having me today. My remarks will be brief, because the most important, truest ideas don’t need fancy accoutrements to prop them up or grant them value.

  “I know many of you personally, as many of you know me. You know my family. You know my father, Trevor, and my mother, Elise. Some of you knew my grandparents, for they were staunch supporters of the Chamber.

  “You appreciate the authenticity of my words when I say my family loves the Alliance and all it represents. My great-grandfather stood on the stage in London in 2105 when the Earth Alliance was formed, and my family has championed it ever since.

  “Now my parents find themselves threatened, pinned into a narrow corner by representatives of the Alliance—representatives who are themselves threatened by yet more powerful interests and thereby forced to do the bidding of Prime Minister Winslow and her cabal of adherents.”

  She cast a thoughtful gaze across the audience. “And something tells me they’re not alone. How many of you have wanted to speak out against BANIA and the heavy-handed regulations it has spawned but refrained from doing so out of fear…or perhaps out of an uncomfortable, niggling feeling that it just wasn’t a good idea. I understand. I do.

  “You may have heard about my little dispute with the prime minister. You’ve assuredly heard about the ban on adiamene production or sale in private industry. A metal, banned. Not a deadly chimeral or a destructive laser weapon—a metal.

  “Can you imagine where we would be today if the first carbon steel alloys had been banned in commerce? Tungsten nanocomposites? Carbon metamaterials? If this were our past, we wouldn’t be here among the stars now.”

  She allowed the smallest smile to touch her lips. “We’re manufacturers. We build things. I bet some of you would love to have a shipment of adiamene for your orbital facilities, or for your ships. I’ll sell it to you. Fifteen percent Chamber discount. You let me know.”

  She could almost hear Noah groan from across the room; she was going to pay for that discount in more than merely lost profits.

  “But sadly, the crisis we face today isn’t really about a metal. The adiamene ban is only a symptom. It’s about lives. About who
gets to decide what life is and whether it’s allowed to exist.

  “Each and every one of you achieved the success you enjoy today by being smart. Shrewd. You’ve worked with Artificials, I guarantee it—maybe on specialized projects, maybe every day. Have they been taken from you, for your own good? How long until they are?

  “You understand what Artificials are and what they aren’t. And Prevos? Most of you probably didn’t have the opportunity to meet any of them before they were forced into hiding on Alliance worlds, but I have. Prevos are my colleagues. They’re my friends. I suspect for some of you, they’re your sons or daughters.

  “If so, I wish them the best, and hope they are safe.

  “Pamela Winslow has you fighting an enemy that doesn’t exist. And she has you doing it so she can take your power, then take your freedom. Don’t let her. She hasn’t the right to it.”

  Another solemn scan of the audience, and she took a step back from the podium. No applause followed, but it wasn’t a bad sign. Sober reflection should be the mood. There was nothing to celebrate, least of all her dressing down of them.

  Lionel joined her on the platform and shook her hand. “Thank you, Ms. Rossi.”

  He watched her leave, then turned to the virtual audience. “Well, I’m inspired!”

  Awkward laughter rippled through the attendees, and Lionel waited until it subsided. His expression grew earnest.

  “Well I am inspired. I’m also shamed. We’ve all—myself included—been going along to get along, thinking we could weather the storm and still be standing at the end. But how much of ourselves are we willing to sacrifice to avoid conflict? How much can we sacrifice before we lose our integrity? Our most treasured principles?”

  He paused to study the podium for a moment. “None of us are warriors—except Mr. Onishi, of course, and Mr. Basurto. They were warriors on the battlefield before they became warriors in the boardroom. Not the rest of us. But this doesn’t mean we can’t fight in our own way.

  “What we are is influential. Wealthy. Able to bring resources to bear on a problem. And en masse, we are powerful. The last time I checked, the Alliance is still a democracy and our elected leaders are still beholden to us. So tell your representative you want BANIA repealed—as well as the adiamene ban, naturally—and an investigation into the prime minister’s activities opened.

  “Tell them with your lobbyists. Tell them with your money and your business. Tell them yourselves. Shine a light in the shadows, and take back control of your government. I certainly plan to.”

  Off to the side and out of view of the cams, Kennedy’s hand came to her mouth as applause now did break out, growing until it thundered. She leaned closer to Noah and whispered, “Did you know he was going to say all that?”

  Noah shrugged mildly. “Nah, I didn’t dare hope. But he hasn’t done too badly.”

  Lionel Terrage accepted the comm request from yet another Chamber member.

  The inquiries had been steady for the last two hours. Some wanted to express their enthusiastic support, some their appalled disgust. Most were tentative, hesitantly asking questions, fearful but exploring the concept of ‘helping’ while lacking any understanding of what that might mean.

  He donned his standard aloof, professional countenance. “Good to speak with you, Benjamin.”

  The CEO of PanPacific Tech Labs pretended to inspect a side-screen, then another. “And you, Lionel. Brave thing you did today. It’s a real shame such difficult choices have had to be made by all involved. I don’t think you give the administration enough credit for trying to do the right thing, though. BANIA has its flaws, but we have to move forward and make the best of it in difficult times.”

  “It seems we have different ideas about what ‘the right thing’ means. If you’ll excuse me, I need to see to more important matters.”

  He cut the connection because he was bored and irked by it, but also because he did need to see to something more important—namely, the security cam showing Aquila police presenting a warrant file to the clerk at the entrance downstairs.

  It had always been a risk, and one he’d made the decision to bear when he made the offer to host Ms. Rossi. He’d hoped it wouldn’t come to pass, but he couldn’t fairly say he was surprised it had.

  He’d for all intents and purposes publicly thumbed his nose at the Winslow administration, after all, and the administration did not take kindly to being humiliated. Worse, it stamped out the brush fires of dissent with a panicked gusto normally reserved for handling virulent plagues.

  Fleeing wasn’t a viable option. Even if he reached the shuttle pad on the roof, the authorities were liable to shoot his transport down. But more relevantly, he wasn’t built for life on the run. Where Noah had gotten the aptitude for it, he couldn’t begin to hazard a guess, but it was not from him.

  He wasn’t built for life in a prison cell, either, but he’d survive it for a time and, if all went well, see the end of it before too terribly long.

  He sent a few brief messages—to Noah, to his attorney and to his COO—then took a sip of water and straightened his jacket.

  The officers brute-force hacked the door with an appalling lack of courtesy and took up defensive positions like this was some sort of armed standoff. “Lionel Terrage?”

  “You needn’t have brutalized the door. I would have allowed you entry. All you needed to do was ask.”

  “We have a warrant to search the premises for one Kennedy Rossi.”

  “Alas, you’ve just missed her. But feel free to reassure yourselves of that fact.”

  “We will. Lionel Terrage, you are under arrest for harboring a fugitive wanted on a judicial warrant.” The man produced a wrist restraint device and took a threatening step forward.

  He exhaled in resignation. “Restraints won’t be necessary. I’ll come quietly.”

  INTERMEZZO II

  AMARANTHE

  Eridium II

  Fylliot Stellar System

  Salote made every effort to remain hidden in his approach to the star system which hosted his homeworld. Despite his urgent desire to speed forward, he proceeded slowly in order to minimize his emissions, the one aspect of his travel which held any chance of exposure.

  His ship bore no concealment mechanism, but it was so small, what machine could feasibly detect it from any distance? He and his ship were nothing, a pinprick in the vastness of space.

  His chest tingled with blooming hope when he saw the planet was not yet gone—then with horror when he made out the giant, foul machines plundering it.

  Only true demons could construct such nightmarish engines of carnage.

  Though the teachings instructed he should not feel it, a great rage burst to life within him at the sight of the rampant destruction. What gave them the right to claim his home for their own wishes? It wasn’t theirs to take!

  Remember Airini. Remember the little ones. Remember your purpose.

  He chanted to calm himself, drifting through space for a long time—too long.

  When he saw clearly again, he worked to cast a critical eye on the scene. The moon remained intact, as he’d speculated it would. Might it be possible the lunar port had not been searched by the interlopers? Might his family be hiding there, against all odds?

  Renewed by the lightness of hope once more, he edged his ship closer to the moon.

  Assignment Designation: I-4617-D883-J955

  Sector: Eridium II 4A

  Summary: Initial survey determined System 4A-CC57 harbored a single Tier II-D species. On arrival, the Theriz Cultivation Unit noted one hundred eighty-seven functioning mammals and a disproportionate number of empty structures built upon one of the target planetary bodies.

  Directive: Investigate suspected disappearance of the bulk of the Tier II-D mammalian species.

  Aver ela-Praesidis swept past the planet in question without contemplation. Theriz were never ones to wait when work existed to be done. Having fulfilled their duty by notifying the Praesidis Primor o
f the anomaly, the Cultivation Unit had already demolished all evidence of the resident species in their reaping of the materials the planet provided.

  Near cosmic scans detected seven artificial objects circumnavigating the planetary space: six rudimentary measurement instruments and a single orbiting habitat.

  Aver placed his ship into a complimentary orbit above the habitat. Not knowing the layout or contents of the interior, he elected to traverse the short distance rather than teleport inside.

  His diati gathered the molecules necessary for respiration around him as he opened his ship’s airlock then propelled him forward until he reached the structure.

  He commanded the sealed hatch to open, then set a bubble upon it so the evidence he sought was not drawn out into space.

  On entering the habitat, he instantly sensed it was devoid of life. The small passages and tools attached to various stations told him the former inhabitants were diminutive creatures, perhaps 1.2 meters in height, with digited limbs by the design of the implements.

  He wiped a length of hair off the wall with a grimace. Fur, of a wiry, short variety. Rodents.

  A cleaning system still functioned, as did ventilation and air circulation. The habitat had not been abandoned for long.

  Conclusion #1: The species was made aware a short time in advance that the Theriz Cultivation Unit would be arriving in System 4A-CC57.

  He manipulated several pieces of equipment, dismantled them and inspected their construction. Electric wires. Epoxy. Barbaric.

  Conclusion #2: The species lacked the technological capability to detect the approach of any Anaden vessel until its imminent arrival.

  Conclusion #3: Members of a more advanced species alerted the native population to the impending Cultivation of their system.

  Aver returned to his ship and linked into the Annals of Catalogued Species. Eridium II was not under productive development and not heavily populated. The number of active species in the galaxy who had ever departed their planets’ soil numbered only eight.