You said you didn’t want to be the savior of humanity.
I don’t. But I think maybe I have to be.
Whatever his response might have been, it was interrupted by a more vehement reaction from the opposite couch. “No. Absolutely not. Regardless of the merits of the idea, if any, I will not allow you to risk your life in such a way.”
She glared at her mother deadpan. “Mom. I am thirty-seven years old. I have my own home and ship and money. You do not get to tell me ‘no’ anymore.”
“I’m the Fleet Admiral of the Earth Alliance Armed Forces. I get to tell everyone ‘no.’”
Alex burst out laughing, which eased what had been rising tension in the room.
“Be that as it may…it’s my plan, and thus my choice. We don’t have time to run trials on rats and set up bureaucracy-approved safety guidelines.”
“We’ll get someone else to do it, then, assuming anyone is allowed to undertake such a risky endeavor. I’m certain there are military candidates available to us with cybernetics as advanced as yours who will be eager to serve in this capacity.”
Alex took a deep breath before responding—something she had rarely to never done previously when jousting with her mother—and swallowed her instinctive response in favor of a more diplomatic one. “Possibly. But again, we don’t have time. And ultimately, I need to be the one on the front line.”
There it was. Out in the open, spoken aloud. Too late for second-guessing her choice now. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but it hardly mattered. Having committed, she needed to bulldoze her way through the opposition in order to make it happen.
“I’m the one person alive who has not only conversed face-to-face with one of these aliens but had one inside my head. I’ve spent dozens of hours not only studying but manipulating and rewriting their code. I understand not only how they think but how their machines think. We will probably want to use other people as well for tactical reasons, but if you want to have the best chance at defeating these aliens, I need to be—no, I will be—at the center of the showdown.”
“Oh, Alex….” Miriam closed her eyes, her brow drew into a knot and silence enveloped the space between them.
Seconds passed in which no one breathed.
Then her mother sat up straight, shoulders rigid, once more the consummate soldier. “Very well. If additional experts agree this idea of yours will work and doesn’t carry intolerable risks. Dr. Canivon is a brilliant scientist and an innovative theorist, but she also tends toward obsession and isn’t always what I would call pragmatic.”
“Conceded.” Alex limited her outward display of relief to a brief smile as she reached in her pocket and produced a crystal disk. “This is the code for the cloaking shield—both the original and my hacked-up version, which does work.”
Delavasi nodded emphatically. “Sure as hell does. Damnedest thing I’ve seen in years.”
She reached across the table and handed the disk to her mother. “You shouldn’t risk sending the data remotely, but as soon as you reach Earth you ought to get your people working on how to implement it on our ships. I’d like Kennedy to take a peek at it, too, if you don’t mind. She has a knack for this kind of tech.”
“Kennedy is currently working around the clock trying to mass produce that metal your ship morphed into. They’re calling it ‘adiamene.’”
“Of course she is. Does she really think it will make much of a difference?”
“Quite. And our engineers tend to agree. Its characteristics stand to revolutionize ship safety, exploration and warfare. Unfortunately, we don’t exactly possess the ability to construct a fleet of warships made of it in time to fight the aliens.”
Richard shook his head roughly. “I’m sorry, but I’m still stuck on fifty-one universes. I am not equipped to deal with the philosophical ramifications of such a concept.”
She grinned playfully at him. “Just ask Will to explain it to you—he can handle the philosophy.”
Delavasi shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Richard’s gaze darted to the floor. Miriam stared at the disk in her hand as though she were reading its contents direct from the crystal.
She watched them for several seconds. “Did I miss something? Will’s all right, isn’t he?”
“Yes, he’s fine.” Richard’s expression…honestly, she couldn’t figure out what his expression was supposed to convey. “I’ll fill you in later. We should discuss what we need to do next, right?”
Miriam nodded. “Yes. Alexi—Alex, you’re talking about bringing multiple civilians into the middle of the largest military operation in history, an act which will cause nearly as sizeable an uproar as proposing to unshackle multiple Artificials and deliver them control of weapons of mass destruction. And since we’re working together with the Federation military now, they’ll need to be convinced as well. And the politicians—Brennon and Vranas at a minimum.”
Delavasi leaned over to regard Miriam across Richard. “If Vranas proves a sticking point, let me know. We’re…well, as close to friends as one can be with a head of government. I haven’t the first clue if this crazy-ass idea will work, but if all of you say it will I’m happy to bullshit him.”
Miriam frowned at the man before giving him a half-shrug. “Thank you, Director. I’ll let you know.”
Then she transferred her attention to Caleb, who had been silent during the heated discussion. “What do you see your role being in this plan? Now if the Metigens bring out their dragons against us, I assume you’ll be at the front of the charge, but otherwise….”
He chuckled, though she could still hear the undertone of tension in his voice. “Let’s hope they didn’t bring dragons with them. No, I’m afraid my cybernetics simply aren’t advanced enough to connect with an Artificial in the manner Alex is proposing. Or rather, they’re advanced in the wrong areas: physical strength, reaction speed, agility, endurance, cellular regeneration.
“The aliens are sending people to kill us, however, so my job first and foremost is keeping Alex alive. I’ll also do whatever else I can to help guarantee this plan succeeds, and try to make sure I’m in the right place at the right time.”
“The right place and time for what?”
“If I knew that, ma’am, I probably wouldn’t need to be there.”
Miriam canted her head as if to consider him anew, but he turned toward Alex until his eyes met hers.
“I’m confident Alex can do this, and I support her decision to stand at the forefront of this fight. She can outsmart them, and in doing so, she can defeat them.”
It was a good spiel, delivered smoothly and with the utmost conviction. She believed he meant it…but she also saw the storm raging in his eyes beneath the near-perfect performance. Was the storm because of his upended past—or was it because of her?
The Pandora spaceport continued to function surprisingly well, Matei Uttara thought as he eased his ship into its assigned berth and cut the engine.
The skies above were jammed with ships arriving and departing and a few that couldn’t decide which one they were doing, and he expected to find a series of hysterical crowds in the lobby. But on arrival at the planet he had been placed in a queue, soon moved to the front, and directed to a docking slot by the spaceport’s VI like it was a normal day.
It was not a normal day, of course. It was one of the last, gasping days of civilization.
He’d always suspected Pandora harbored more than one secret. It was too clean, too well-mannered and far too orderly for the caliber of both its residents and its visitors. The data Hyperion had grudgingly provided on where he would find his targets confirmed his suspicion, at least in general terms.
He had nearly reached Seneca when Hyperion diverted him to Pandora in a conversation which was short and terse even by the alien’s standards. From what he’d managed to extract from the alien, Marano and Solovy could now hide their location while moving. They popped up out of nowhere in Cavare at a top-secret government safe house. He
’d not been relishing infiltrating the safe house, but then suddenly they were on Pandora at a similarly top-secret estate belonging to one of the wealthiest men in the galaxy.
How they accomplished the disappearing act didn’t concern him except insofar as it made his job more difficult, but it definitely seemed to be peeving Hyperion.
And now he’d learned that in the interim said safe house had been destroyed in a catastrophic explosion.
The fact the aliens were using resources in addition to him displeased him, which in turn annoyed him. He was above such pettiness, and he’d always known they employed others in their civilization-altering games. Given the distances between inhabited worlds it was smart strategy, for he could not be everywhere at once.
Yet these ‘other resources’ had failed to eliminate the targets on Seneca—failed where he would succeed.
He expected the estate to be trickier to infiltrate than the safe house in some ways. It lay sequestered behind both a force field and a physical wall fifty meters high. Given the excessive efforts at concealment, the grounds were sure to be well-staffed by both human and electronic security. The estate also stretched for nearly half a square kilometer and included multiple buildings and expansive gardens, making his prey elusive targets.
Then there was the nature of his prey.
Solovy wouldn’t be difficult; she was a techie and a warenut, and unless she’d outfitted herself in a kilojoule repulsion shield shouldn’t represent a problem.
Marano he knew enough about to be properly cautious. So long as he remained properly cautious, the intelligence agent would also not be a problem. He always respected a target precisely as much as they deserved to be respected. Marano earned his respect but not his fear. Then again, no once since his first kill had earned his fear, and in retrospect even they hadn’t deserved it.
People jammed the lift to the ground floor to a nearly unsafe degree, and upon arriving at its destination he found the expected crowd of panicking civilians. He didn’t actually mind the crowd; one was never more hidden than when surrounded by people. But the turmoil had brought out a greater than usual number of Pandora’s mythical police to work fruitlessly to restore a marginal level of calm. So he moved swiftly, slipping through transient gaps and openings to reach the spaceport exit.
He made no stops and took no pauses as he traversed Pandora’s labyrinth of neighborhoods and levtram routes. His targets might leave at any time and apparently he wouldn’t know until they popped up on another planet, so time was of the essence.
On reaching The Avenue he increased the strength of his cloaking shield and began seeking out the shadows and path edges. Though he did not present an unkempt appearance, his attire didn’t match that of the denizens of this neighborhood. On the whole they looked far too wrapped-up in their own alien-driven angst to be cognizant of him, but he never took unnecessary chances.
When the projection at last came into sight, he’d daresay he was impressed by the completeness of the illusion. Beyond a security checkpoint stood an innocuous mid-rise office building. It blended into the surroundings with seamless perfection. The checkpoint was real; the building was not, though had he not known it he would have been fooled. The checkpoint was not his goal, however, and he gave it a wide berth.
The neighborhood ended at the intersection in front of the false building, and there existed no thruway to the next. In Pandora’s odd inside-outside city design, large areas presented the impression of being fully enclosed and imposing walls often blocked further progress despite the fact the land beneath one’s feet plainly continued on.
This particular dead-end meant the force field and accompanying illusion were not all-encompassing, but solely forward-facing. At some point on either side, they ended. Endings were weaknesses.
He found the termination locus of the field against the side façade of another nondescript building three blocks to the right. His instincts told him the proprietor of the secret estate owned this structure as well, and he doubted a single person worked there. It was likely stocked with security cams and possibly with guards, so he raised his cloaking shield to maximum. If he moved slowly he would be invisible from farther than two meters away.
Matei slithered along the façade until he reached the faint ripple in the false building that marked the edge of the field. A last scan around to ensure he hadn’t attracted notice, then he went to work cutting himself a hole.
PART II:
BLINDSIGHT
“These woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.”
— Robert Frost
13
PANDORA
INDEPENDENT COLONY
* * *
AFTER INHALING A QUICK MEAL they returned to the business center for Alex to walk through the visuals and data she had captured with the others. These people were strategists, and while the story she’d told was a powerful and persuasive one, it did not come as a surprise when they asked to see the evidence.
Alex’s mother had a couple of military emergencies to handle first, and Caleb passed the intervening minutes chatting with Richard. He was finally able to learn some details about how the Aguirre Conspiracy had been uncovered and what it had actually entailed. They had done good work—Richard and Delavasi both. He was unable to deny he and Alex, not to mention the rest of the galaxy, owed them both a debt.
“By the way, nice accent you have there. Don’t recall it from our first meeting, though.”
Caleb pursed his lips to hold back a chuckle and eyed Richard, who wasn’t holding back amusement. “I didn’t think she’d care for it.”
“I’m guessing you were incorrect in that assumption.”
“Indeed I was.”
Alex re-entered the room carrying a cavernous bowl of chips. She deposited it on one of the smaller tables, grabbed a handful for herself and started loading her data at the control panel.
Miriam ended her current conference and gazed over to where Alex stood. Caleb’s interest piqued when the woman opened her mouth to speak, then closed it and sighed visibly before trying again.
“Alex, there’s something you need to know. I didn’t mention it earlier because there were matters of such import to discuss, but I feel I need to tell you before we go any further. I don’t want you to find out another way.”
Alex’s head tilted idly, half her attention still on the control panel. “Okay. What is it?”
Miriam cleared her throat. “Your friend Ethan Tollis is dead. He was killed in an explosion on the Orbital a few weeks ago. I’m sorry.”
To his credit, Caleb’s initial reaction was untainted empathy for her. He began considering how he might best respond, best provide comfort and support.
“Oh.” Alex’s focus dropped to the floor, and he could no longer read her expression. “I see. Thank you for telling me.” After a beat she looked up, now wearing a tight and utterly fake smile. “Are you ready to go over this data now, or do you want a few more minutes?”
“I’m ready, if everyone else is?” Miriam surveyed the room and received agreement from Richard and Delavasi.
He watched Alex carefully as she went to the main table and pulled up one of the visuals of the ship manufacturing facility they had destroyed.
“So this is where they were…constructing the superdreadnoughts. They churned out….” Her chin dropped and her hair tumbled down to hide her face.
“I’m sorry, would you—would you excuse me a minute? I need to….” She spun and bolted from the room without so much as a fleeting glance in his direction.
“Of course….” Miriam’s response faded away, and an uneasy silence descended upon the room.
Caleb worked to keep his bearing neutral as the empathy faltered and an absurd pang of jealousy flared to overpower it. He felt like a complete ass for being jealous of a dead man, but it smarted to realize the loss of Ethan
caused her enough emotional pain to rupture the formidable armor she donned for others.
Several seconds passed, and it occurred to him everyone else was fidgeting uncomfortably, doubtless on account of being left behind with him while she fled to mourn another man. Outstanding.
He smiled in a forced attempt at levity. “If you like, I can go over some of these visuals, though I suspect Alex would rather do it herself.”
Miriam’s shoulders twitched. “We can wait for her to return. I have at least two dozen things I can work on until she does.” With a confirming nod she pivoted to the table and began doing exactly that.
Richard wandered back to stand next to him. His voice was conversational. “You should go after her.”
Caleb exhaled, long and slow. “I’m not sure…I should give her a few minutes.”
“Two.”
“Sir?”
“You should give her two minutes. Then you should go after her.”
“Is that so?”
Richard shrugged. “I’m probably the last person you ought to be taking relationship advice from—I unwittingly married a frigging Senecan spy, for God’s sake—but I say in two minutes you go after her. She’ll want you. And even if she doesn’t want you, she’ll need you.”
He had done what? Caleb tried to recall the few details Alex had told him about Richard’s husband. The man had been the one to deliver the Santiagar autopsy report, complete with a type of hidden encryption often used in the intelligence trade.
Opting not to pursue the topic for now, he instead tamped down a dark laugh. “All right. Ninety seconds and counting.”
He roved in a circuitous route along the near side of the room for a full twenty seconds before groaning. Fuck it.
“I’m going to go check on Alex. I’ll be back…in a bit.” He ignored Delavasi as he passed him on his way out of the room.
Alex had turned left when she exited, but the hallway wound along the perimeter of the house and circled around to the front, so she could be anywhere.
Transcendence: Aurora Rising Book Three Page 10