Echo Rift

by G. S. Jennsen

  “So you had them killed.” Ziton’s voice hovered between a tenor of accusation and incredulity. She’d nearly forgotten, but he’d once been the Primor’s most loyal servant of them all. Well, second-most loyal after her, back when she was foolish and blind.

  “In the end, it was the only way to free our people while protecting the Humans, the Katasketousya and so many of our allies from annihilation. I mourn for the individuals the Primors once were—people I once called, well, not friends as such, but certainly colleagues and compatriots—but I will not mourn for the monsters they became.” Corradeo regarded the three of them sagely, his gaze brimming with both warmth and steel. “So, what do you say? Will you stand at my side and, with me, build a new Anaden society?”

  He already had her answer, so Nyx smiled and reached out to squeeze his hand. Lontias leaned back into the couch cushion, spreading his arms atop it, and contemplated the high ceiling. “I’ve tried to make what pitiful difference I could for the last decade, but I was a minnow in an ocean. Here, though? With all of us and your grand designs? What the hells. Yes, I want to do this. I’d be honored to do this.”

  “Wonderful.” Corradeo stood and clasped Lontias on the shoulder. “Ziton?”

  Ziton strode over to the low bar along the left wall and busied himself pouring a vodka tonic. Once he finished, he turned and rested against the bar, bringing the glass to his lips while he regarded Corradeo intently over the top of it.

  “I’m still a little hung-up on how you killed my Primor. But I appreciate that, whatever he meant to me, he meant much more to you, so you must have believed you had no choice. And, having been there in the midst of the madness during those final days, I agree you probably didn’t.

  “I’ll be honest. I liked the world the way it was before The Displacement. Then again, it’s easy to enjoy the status quo when you’re sitting pretty at the top of the food chain. I’ve seen the same things everyone else has these last fourteen years. Concord isn’t so bad, though it might benefit from a firmer hand from time to time. Most of the citizens seem to be happier, which was something I never really considered one way or another back in the old days. But most of all, I’ve seen the reality that on a grand scale, our people are in trouble. They need you. They need us. I’m in.”

  40

  * * *

  ARES

  Eren watched the steady stream of visitors emerge from the Caeles Prism originating at Concord HQ. Holed up at Corradeo’s newly claimed estate outside Olympia, it was easy to get lulled into the sense that Ares existed in a bubble, albeit a high-pressure hydrogen bubble constantly on the verge of bursting from the roiling tensions of Anaden political gamesmanship.

  But Ares had been one of the first worlds to receive a permanent Caeles Prism transit to and from Concord HQ (albeit in lieu of an absent Solum). A few steps and he could be right back at his old stomping ground of the CINT offices, as if he’d never left.

  But every meeting room, every office and hallway and cafe on HQ reminded him of Cosime, so he thought it best to steer clear of it for a while longer.

  He spotted Drae Shonen when his friend slipped easily between two bickering Erevnas to break free of the traffic and fade off to the left, like the well-trained CINT agent he was. Eren pushed off the wall and gave a slight wave to get Drae’s attention. For half a second, Drae studied Eren sharply enough to make a lesser man squirm; then his friend smiled and jogged over.

  “You look better.”

  “Thanks to you.” He patted Drae on the back, and they fell in beside one another. “Have time for a bite to eat?”

  “Sure.”

  “This way.” Eren led them down a wide hallway to one of the delis set up to serve those traveling to and from other worlds, and they staked out a high pub table near the window. He ordered a citrus spritzer and some cheese chips, earning an arched eyebrow from Drae. He brushed past it before Drae added any color commentary. “Did you get my note?”

  “You mean the one you left at HQ Medical? I got it. I’m miffed you skipped out on us, though.”

  “Sorry, mate, but I had to be alone for a while. Felzeor?”

  “He saw the note also, and forgave you far quicker than I did.”

  “I’m glad. I thought you might bring him along today.”

  Drae rotated his glass a couple of times. “To be honest, I wasn’t certain what state I’d find you in. If it wasn’t a good one, I didn’t want Felzeor to have to see you that way.”

  “Oh.” Eren busied himself with slurping down the crushed ice in his spritzer. Shame fought its way past his defenses. He was reminded once again what amazing friends he had, and how shitty he’d treated damn near all of them in his grief. “Then thank you for looking out for him.”

  “It was never a question.” The waiter bot arrived to set their chips on the table, which they both ignored. “So how are you doing? Are you okay?”

  “No. Not really.” The truth sounded unduly harsh to his ears, but Drae had seen him wither at the rock-bottom of the chasm leading to Tartarus. “But I am trying. Oh! And I got to rid the world of Torval, so that’s helping.”

  “Until he shows up again.”

  “Nope. He has departed the firmament for the last time.”

  Drae whistled. “So you finally got proper vengeance. How did it feel?”

  Eren shrugged. “What do you want me to say? That I got a perverse thrill out of blowing his brains out? I absolutely did. It was no less than he deserved. But his death didn’t bring her back. I mean, I knew it wouldn’t, obviously. Anyway, now I’m still here, and she’s still gone. And I have to find another reason to continue drawing breath.”

  “Is that what you’re doing here? On Ares?”

  “Maybe.” Eren finally grabbed a chip, studying Drae as he twirled it between his fingers. “Speaking of finding purpose in life, are you here to come back to work for the big guy?”

  “Are you kidding? I have no desire to get within a hundred parsecs of the cesspit that is Anaden politics. I mean, for longer than a brief lunch. No, I merely wanted to stop by and, you know, say hello.”

  “You wanted to check on me.”

  “Well, after all the effort I put into keeping you alive, I think I’m entitled.”

  “You are.” He almost said ‘thank you’ for the third time, but damn it was getting old. He spread his arms wide. “Satisfied?”

  Again with the piercing gaze. “For now. I’m also supposed to express well-wishes from Director Navick, along with a gentle request for you to pass along any noteworthy information that hits your eyes or ears while you’re at the Praesidis estate. In the spirit of intergovernmental cooperation, of course.”

  “Of course. It shouldn’t be a problem. Corradeo is of a Concord-friendly mind.”

  “So things are going well with the conclave, then?”

  “ ‘Well’ might be a slight exaggeration. Things are…in progress. Getting upwards of seventy elassons and a dozen elas to agree on so much as the color of the Ares sky is more of a pain in the ass than herding a brood of petaloúdas.”

  “Hence why I’m happy to stay at CINT.”

  “Eh, can’t argue with you there.” Eren scowled as a priority message arrived. “It seems I’m being summoned back to the estate.” He rang up the deli account and deposited enough funds to cover the entire meal. “Lunch is on me, and anytime you want to reconvene, give me a shout.”

  “Will do.”

  Eren stood and placed a hand on Drae’s shoulder. “Tell everyone I said hello, and that I’m doing well.” He smiled a little sadly. “Lie for me.”

  Eren passed two suspiciously Praesidis-looking men on the way to the parlor. He sighed to himself; nothing would dial up the fun and frivolity like a bunch of Inquisitors running around the estate. Diati or no, he didn’t doubt they’d continue to lord their innate superiority over everyone they met, so he’d make a point to try not to meet them.

  He walked into the parlor to find Corradeo talking intimately wit
h a raven-haired woman. Praesidis—so much for his plan? When the door closed behind him, Corradeo gave him a casual nod. “Ah, there you are, Eren. Thank you for coming by so quickly.”

  As he spoke, the woman turned to inspect their new guest. As soon as he saw her face, he let out a pained groan. “You.”

  Nyx elasson-Praesidis’ mouth curled downward. “I could say the same. What are you…never mind. You were an anarch, and he was your boss. It makes sense.”

  Corradeo glanced between them. “You two know each other?”

  “We’ve met. She once tried to kill me at Plousia. Also Cosime, Thelkt and Felzeor. Oh, and Caleb and Alex, too. Since we bested her, she had to settle for torturing one of my lady friends.”

  “I was simply doing my job.”

  “Whatever lets you sleep at night, sweetheart.” Eren sat on the arm of one of the couches and threw his feet up on the seat cushion. “What do you need, sir?”

  Corradeo frowned. “I had a mind to send you and Nyx on a mission together.”

  “Not a chance—”

  “But Grandfather, I only just returned. I implore you, don’t order me away again so soon.”

  Grandfather? Oh, fabulous. “See? She doesn’t want to go. Whatever it is, I assure you, I can handle it.”

  “I prefer if the two of you work together to handle it. Nyx, I am indescribably happy to have you at my side once more. But the situation here is at a delicate stage, and I need your help to clean up the loose ends which I have let escape my grasp.”

  “What does that mean?” They both asked simultaneously.

  A hint of a smile tugged at Corradeo’s lips. “Before we left Epithero, our most troublesome elasson, Ferdinand, slipped away in the night. He’s a coward, unfortunately, and he knew he’d lost this battle as well as any hope of gaining real power. But out there, away from my sight, he can still cause a great deal of trouble for us and for Concord.”

  Eren growled derisively. “You should have let me kill him that evening at dinner.”

  “As disruptive as his transgressions have been, they do not rise to a level warranting summary execution.” Corradeo checked the closed door, as if to confirm the three of them were alone. “Also, I feared more bloodshed would have spooked the other elassons so early on in this…negotiation.”

  “I don’t know. They were so shell-shocked after I blew Torval’s brains out, they might not have noticed one more body on the floor. But I cede to your wisdom. What would you have us do with him now?”

  “Concord wishes to imprison him, which is a suitable fate. If you instead bring him back here, I will see to doing the same, though additional precautions will need to be taken. In any event, I leave it to your—to both of your—discretion to determine the best course of action once you find him.”

  Eren squelched a smirk. Nyx was a killer as surely as he was, and he suspected she could be made to see the wisdom of his preference on the matter. Or he could kill Ferdinand without consulting her. He never had been one to seek permission.

  Ugh, now he’d already accepted the reality that he was going to have to work with the Inquisitor. He hadn’t meant to do any such thing.

  She stared at him in haughty disdain for a moment, then seemed to reach the same conclusion. “Grandfather, tell me everything you know about Ferdinand’s disappearance. I’ll find him.”

  “We’ll find him.”

  “You’ll do as I say and not cause any trouble.”

  Eren just laughed.

  MENARIS

  Milky Way Galaxy

  Ferdinand crept uneasily through the late evening shadows toward the address he’d been given by his contact. The man living at said address could create a new identity for him, and with it, a new life for him to inhabit until he devised a way to reclaim his stolen power.

  At this juncture, it appeared to be the only viable option available to him. His coalition was in ruins, his dreams of a new Anaden powerbase shattered. Concord wanted him in prison, and Corradeo Praesidis would demand his fealty then consign him to a back-room desk job at best. In the absence of his sworn allegiance, the man would give him over to his Idoni pet for entertainment or, more likely, instant, bloody and final death.

  Right now, what Ferdinand wanted most of all was to feel safe. To be able to sleep at night without nightmares of Torval’s head exploding all across the walls leaving him with cold chills in a sweat-soaked bed. To be able to walk the streets without checking over his shoulder every five seconds. He had plenty of money, so while he’d have to suffer the indignity of pretending to be an ela as part of this new identity, he wouldn’t have to stoop to working for a living. He’d simply adopt his new persona, buy an apartment on a properly civilized world and settle into a life of relative luxury for a decade or so. It wasn’t everything he longed for, but it would keep him alive and comfortable.

  More aliens were wandering the streets of Menaris than the last time he’d visited the planet, as well as members of virtually every Dynasty. The standards here were clearly slipping. Of course, legally any person from a Concord Member or Allied species was permitted to visit Anaden-controlled planets, but the open borders were supposed to be a mere formality. No one ever actually did it—or they hadn’t until now. His Primor would be aghast to see the rabble that traveled Kyvern streets these days, were she alive to witness it.

  Ferdinand turned left at the next intersection, and the shadows grew darker. Menaris’ capital city was reasonably clean and prosperous, but the address was located in a neighborhood that fell at the lowest end on both counts. Maybe he should return in the morning.

  Out of an alley a few meters ahead, three people emerged. Two Anaden men, one Kyvern and one Diaplas, and a Barisan woman. The Barisan sneered toothily at him, but malevolence leaked in waves from all three of them.

  Ferdinand shifted direction to cross the street and give them a wide berth—a clawed hand landed on his shoulder, halting his progress.

  He spun around. “Excuse me?”

  “Nice bracelet you’ve got there.”

  He glanced down at the woven platína chain adorning his left wrist. “Thank you. Now, if there will be nothing else, I’m late for an appointment.”

  The Diaplas man circled around behind him, eyeing him, or his jewelry and clothes, lustily. “You should give it to us.”

  “I…what?”

  “Your bracelet. Give it to us.”

  Panic flooded his veins to muddle his thoughts. Were there no Vigil officers on patrol anywhere? Farther down the block, two Anaden men reversed course and disappeared around the corner. There was no one in sight to save him from this vulgar assault.

  He’d owned the chain for twenty centuries; it was worth thousands of credits, but far more in sentimental value. Still, he valued nothing so much as his life.

  “Okay, fine. Take it.” He hurriedly forced the chain over his knuckles then chucked it into the man’s chest. “There.” He took two hurried steps out of their orbit.

  “Oh, my! The gleam of the bracelet blinded me until now, but look at that shiny shirt you’re wearing. It must be Novoloume silk.” The Kyvern man elbowed the Diaplas man in the side. “You can’t have one without the other.”

  “Carlen’s right. We’ll take your shirt, too.”

  “You can’t have my shirt!”

  The Barisan produced a long, curved blade from a belt hidden in her fur. “This says we can.”

  Ferdinand began backing away in horror. “I am an elasson of the Kyvern Dynasty, and I will not stand for this affront! You owe me your allegiance!”

  The Kyvern man started laughing as he matched Ferdinand’s retreat step for step. “Nobody cares about rank any longer, you poncy elasson. Didn’t you hear? We’re all free now. Free to take what we want for ourselves.”

  Ferdinand’s back hit the façade of the building behind him. The Barisan growled and lurched forward, her foul breath wafting across Ferdinand’s cheek. The tip of the blade dipped beneath the collar of his shirt. “Wh
at are you afraid of, elasson? Let us kill you and strip you, then you’ll wake up in a cushy lab and can go buy some new expensive clothes.”

  “No, I won’t!” He gasped air into convulsing lungs. “I’m not connected to a regenesis server—if you kill me, I’ll die forever!”

  The Diaplas man snorted. “Likely story, you smarmy little liar. You want to keep your shiny shirt that fucking bad?”

  “No. No, I don’t.” Ferdinand hastily yanked the shirt over his head and thrust it out in front of him in a fisted bundle. “Take it. Just don’t kill me.”

  “Awfully nice of you. This way, the shirt won’t get messy from all the blood.” The Diaplas man grabbed the shirt from Ferdinand’s trembling hand, then nodded to the Barisan woman. The Kyvern man grabbed one of Ferdinand’s hands and pressed his shoulder against the façade.

  Light from a passing skycar glinted off the curve of the Barisan’s blade as it darted out to slice like butter across Ferdinand’s neck.

  41

  * * *

  TOKI’TAKU

  Gennisi Galaxy

  The lush forest enveloped Nika with the scents of pine and sandalwood as the carriage sped through the thick canopy of trees toward the Alcazar.

  This was her third time making the trip since returning to her Advisor duties, though intellectually she knew she’d made it hundreds of times in the past to meet with dozens of Elders. But surely few meetings had been as important as this one.

  After ten hair-raising minutes of flight, the carriage arrived at its destination with everyone still in one piece. As before, an honor guard waited to escort her from the landing platform up the winding ramp that surrounded the vast and ancient tree.

  Inside, a great deal of activity livened the meeting chamber. In typical fashion, everyone stood at their appointed station, their bearing guarded, but this time it appeared most of them hardly noticed Nika’s arrival. She took in the scene with practiced eyes…the visuals flashing across the screens, the utilitarian dress of those present and their sharp demeanor as they conferred in small groups.