Transcendence: Aurora Rising Book Three

by G. S. Jennsen

  She hated to do it, but the clock was ticking. She cleared her throat respectfully from the doorway.

  They both looked over at her, though neither let go of the hold they had on one another. “I’m sorry to interrupt. Mr. Marano, I’m relieved to see you awake—you gave us quite a scare. Alex, can I borrow you for a minute?”

  “One second.” She turned back to Caleb and whispered something; her fingertips ghosted down his cheek to hover on softly smiling lips before she stood and crossed the room to the hallway.

  “I really am glad to see he’s awake. Is he going to be all right?”

  Alexis’ posture sagged in unmistakable weariness, triggering a surge in Miriam’s motherly instinct and the desire to admonish her daughter to get some sleep. She squelched the urge.

  “I think so. He puts on such a brave front I can never be sure. What’s up?”

  “Unfortunately, I won’t be accompanying you to Earth. I have to take a side trip to Seneca first to handle a…complication.”

  Alexis arched an eyebrow in surprise. “Seneca? Are you okay with going there?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t have much of a choice in the matter. But yes, I’ll be fine.”

  “I know you’ll be fine. You always are. I asked if you were okay with it.” She discerned no hint of bitterness or sarcasm in her daughter’s voice.

  “In truth, I haven’t considered the question. Perhaps I’ll wallow a bit during the flight. Anyway, I’ll confirm everything is ready for your arrival in Vancouver. If anyone gives you trouble tell Richard, then tell me. Immediately.”

  Alexis made a valiant effort at appearing put-upon. “Yes, ma’am. We’ll be leaving as soon as the doctor says Caleb’s well enough to travel.”

  “Good. You’re in all kinds of danger so long as you remain here. The aliens know your location, and it won’t be long before they realize their attempt to kill you failed and they send more agents. The sooner you depart, the better. When you reach Earth, Richard and I have arranged for a full security detail as well as other, more discreet measures.”

  “Are you sure all this is necessary? The secret’s out now.”

  “If the multiple layers of surveillance shielding worked the aliens don’t know the secret’s out. And even if they do, there could be a delay in new orders reaching their agents. Also, you ought to consider the possibility that they will always consider you a threat—which they should.”

  “Point made.”

  “While I’m making points, you need a shower.”

  Alexis rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” Then she lifted a lock of hair, tangled and caked in dried blood, off her shoulder using two fingers and winced. A chuckle escaped as she let it fall back. “So I do. Now that he’s awake, I’ll get cleaned up. In a few minutes. Before we leave.”

  Stubborn, stubborn child. “Please do.” Miriam shuffled awkwardly, suddenly unsure how to end the conversation and walk away. “So I’ll see you again soon. And Alex, please do not open your brain and invite an Artificial to take up residence in it before I get there.”

  On receiving a hand motion she took for minimal acquiescence, she turned to go.

  “Mom?”

  She pivoted without hesitation. “Yes?”

  “Thank you for your help earlier. Thank you…for everything.”

  Finding herself at a true loss for words this time, she simply nodded. But as she headed down the hall toward the exit, she was smiling.

  Delavasi entered the room as the doctor was leaving, having given his grudging sign-off on their departure after a barrage of medications and instructions and admonitions.

  Alex checked Caleb’s reaction to the new arrival, fully prepared to remove the man from the room by force if he wished it. He gave her the tiniest gesture to indicate she could stand down and gingerly closed up his shirt before directing his attention to the doorway. “Director.”

  “Glad to see you’re none the worse for wear.”

  “Well…” Caleb eased into a position where he could pull on his boots “…I am a little the worse for wear, at least for a few days, but it looks like there was no irreparable damage done.” His tone wasn’t hostile, though it still lacked definable warmth, and she had to wonder whether the statement might apply to more than his physical health. “What can I do for you?”

  Alex watched to make sure he didn’t need help with the boots—not that he would accept it if he did—then cleared her throat. “I can give you two some time alone. I should finish gathering our things anyway.”

  Caleb shook his head. “It’s all right. Please stay.”

  She knew it was a courtesy intended to make up in the smallest way for the scene on Seneca. He didn’t need to do it, but she’d be lying if she claimed it didn’t please her.

  “Okay.” She perched on the arm of the large chair next to the divan—far enough away to give him space, close enough to intervene if it became advisable to do so.

  In the wake of the barrage of events this evening she found she was feeling staunchly protective of him—physically, emotionally, probably spiritually if the topic came up. Not because he was weak, but because he was strong. Stronger than any person should ever have to be.

  It was a new but unexpectedly pleasant experience for her. She was so far from an expert in any of those things, but she’d realized something in the midst of the turmoil: it didn’t matter. For him she would learn; he would help her learn.

  Delavasi wandered deeper into the room to lean against the far wall, wisely leaving a large swath of space between him and Caleb. “I won’t try to persuade you to come back to Cavare with me. I recognize you have your own path to follow. But I thought you’d want to know, I’m all but certain the man who attacked you was Michael Volosk’s killer.

  “He’s a ghost—no identity, no fingerprints, no records, and there’s not enough left of his eyes for a retinal scan. But the characteristics of his blade match Michael’s wound and the MO is the same. He was definitely a professional assassin, which is the only kind of person who would have the ability to get the jump on Michael the way his killer did.”

  Caleb nodded thoughtfully. “Then I’m even happier he’s dead. Volosk was a good man.”

  “A better man than me, that’s for sure. And though I doubt I’ll ever be able to prove it, I’d bet good money on this guy being the one who killed Minister Santiagar and Chris Candela as well. Odds are he was the aliens’ go-to assassin. Or the Aguirre Conspiracy’s—or hell, all of them. Great job on taking him out, both of you.”

  “Thank you.” Caleb shifted on the cushion beneath him and seemed to carefully consider his next words. “Director, I’m not saying I’m all right with what you—and others—did in covering up my father’s death, or everything is kosher between us. It’s not. When this is over I’m going to need to give serious thought to whether I’m comfortable with or even willing to return to Division.

  “But before we leave, I was wondering if you could take a few minutes to tell me a bit about my father. About the man he genuinely was, for good or ill.”

  Delavasi looked taken aback, perhaps not expecting to be granted such a boon, but his bearing relaxed. The contrast was stark; Alex hadn’t appreciated just how tense he had been.

  He grabbed a chair and dragged it across from the divan, then sat down and leaned forward to rest his forearms on his knees. “Caleb, I would be honored to tell you about Stefan.”

  16

  OGHAM

  SENECAN FEDERATION COLONY

  * * *

  “SIR, THE OGHAM ORBITAL DEFENSE ARRAY is tracking us. It appears to be hostile.”

  Liam considered the view from the raised overlook just past midway down the bridge of the Akagi. Ogham was an ugly world, a tiny, rocky planet orbiting an average orange star. There was no good reason for its existence, much less its settlement.

  “So they now realize we are again the enemy. No matter. I expected the trick was only likely to work once.”

  The New Orient assault
had been ludicrously easy in its execution. With no threat from the array and no noticeable military presence on the colony, they waltzed in and had their way. His force had burnt the settled continent to a crisp in the space of a few hours.

  In some ways it had been anticlimactic…he couldn’t sense the blood in the air or see the panic on the faces from the bridge of a ship. On the other hand, he could create widespread destruction far more efficiently. By the end of the offensive the flames devouring New Orient had been visible from space with the unaided eye. He’d used his optical implant to record the scene so he was able to replay it in his mind whenever he wished.

  He beckoned over the Flight Deck Chief, a Commander Dohman. The man was inappropriately skinny for military service; Liam would have disqualified him from supervisory rank on this flaw alone, but demoting the man so soon after assuming command would cause more problems than it solved. As he had to keep reminding himself, he needed to be careful with the crew.

  “Transfer two tactical fusion anti-ship mines to the reconnaissance craft. Instruct the pilot to proceed under full stealth and place the mines in the orbital paths of two consecutive nodes of the array. When the nodes reach the mines they will detonate, destroying the nodes and possibly even the array frame at those locations. The gap created will be sufficient for us to slip through.”

  Dohman grimaced; his face was so thin the expression took up the entire bottom half of it. “Sir, perhaps a better option is to whittle down two of the nodes from afar? Since we’re facing a single array we should have minimal losses.”

  He did have his eye on two officers who displayed more favorable characteristics and a better attitude, however. Maybe the time had come to shake up the ranks after all, and there were stronger, properly loyal soldiers deserving of promotion. “Did I stutter, Commander? Plinking away at nodes takes too long, and we would have losses. We can’t spare the ships. Carry out my order.”

  The man’s head bobbed unevenly, and he backed away several steps before heading for the flight deck.

  Liam was turning to consider the view outside anew when Captain Harper cleared her throat behind him. “General, the array is in low orbit. Detonating two tactical nukes at that altitude risks poisoning the planet’s atmosphere.”

  The young special forces officer somehow always seemed to be on the bridge at critical junctures and somehow always seemed to have a legitimate reason for being there. Her very presence rankled him. Her understated arrogance revealed itself in the proud carriage of her shoulders and piercing glint in her stare. He couldn’t shake the feeling that she was constantly analyzing him, probing for weaknesses and flaws she might use against him. But she would never find any.

  Liam sneered at her. “Yes, it will.”

  A twitch of the muscles beneath her left eye was the only outward reaction she displayed. “I’ll make sure the mine transfer is handled correctly, then, sir.”

  Brooklyn Harper hurried through the tight hallways of the Akagi. Her options raced through her mind in time to the rhythm of her boots hitting the deck.

  A tactical analysis led to the inescapable conclusion that for the moment those options were few. The Flight Deck Chief was in full-on sycophant mode, his solitary, weak protest having been crushed by O’Connell’s glare alone. If Dohman was on the flight deck she’d never be able to sabotage or otherwise interfere with the deployment of the mines. She couldn’t in good conscience ask the recon craft pilot to mis-position them because under this general such an error would likely result in the pilot’s summary execution.

  She’d disliked O’Connell instantly upon meeting him, but in the initial days of this alleged ‘covert mission’ she’d had no reason to doubt the veracity of his orders. Given the number of dirty tactics the Federation engaged in during the brief war, she wouldn’t blame the Alliance for engaging in a few of its own.

  But New Cairo had been a straight-up massacre of civilians, plain and simple. The array saw their ships as friendly—which meant the Second Crux War was in fact officially over—and they had barged in with zero resistance. New Cairo didn’t have a real military installation, only a reserve outpost for a couple of cargo and transport ships. The Akagi and its companion vessels dropped through the atmosphere and fucking carpet-bombed the entire colony, down to the tiniest outposts deep in the jungle.

  All was fair in war…but they weren’t at war. Not any longer. And even in war deliberate attacks on purely noncombatant targets were frowned upon. This was the 24th century; they were supposed to be civilized now.

  The communications blackout had put everyone on edge, and that was before they started blowing up peaceful settlements. The crew wanted to know what was happening with the aliens. They wanted to know if friends and family were safe, and if they lived to the east where they’d evacuated to. They wanted to know their government had a plan to fight the aliens—was fighting the aliens. But all this knowledge and the accompanying comfort it might provide continued to be denied them.

  At least her parents and younger brother lived on Demeter. It lay to the west of Earth; if the aliens attacked Demeter, the game was already lost. Those other concerns gnawed at her as well, but until she was able to do something about them she needed to concentrate on what she could do.

  She reached the flight deck far sooner than she reached any conclusions, yet far too late to do any good. Six crewmen transported the first mine up from armament storage under the watchful eye of Commander Dohman.

  Her stomach curdled at the sight, sending the rank aftertaste of the pickled slaw from lunch up into her throat. Using tactical nukes in space was one thing, where the damage stayed contained to a few ships at most—ships which qualified as enemy combatants—and the radiation swiftly dispersed into the vastness of space. Using them inside an atmosphere constituted another matter entirely. The wind currents of the upper layers would sweep the radiation into its ecosystem and spread it across the planet, seeding it in the rain clouds and permeating it into the air below.

  O’Connell was a madman or a sociopath, and in all likelihood both. Her instincts had told her this within an hour of sharing a ship with him, but she’d allowed for other possibilities or even an error on her part until New Cairo. And if there had been a scintilla of doubt remaining after that bloodbath, his cavalier use of nukes on a defenseless colony eradicated it.

  As the crewmen finished loading the mine into the small cargo bay of the stealth recon craft, she silently made the decision. She would have to stop him.

  To do so, however, she needed allies, and she didn’t know this crew. She and the other three members of her squad were strangers to them—and two of the three members of her squad were essentially strangers to her, having been transferred in several weeks earlier at the height of the conflict with the Federation. She couldn’t be sure who to trust, and given O’Connell’s clear paranoia and hair-trigger temper she needed to tread cautiously.

  Her pace slackened to a stop several meters away from the recon vessel as she lingered in the shadows. She didn’t have the capability to stop this attack. She was out of options for now. But in order to be ready when O’Connell made his next move, it was time to begin.

  17

  PANDORA

  INDEPENDENT COLONY

  * * *

  GRAHAM DIDN’T GLANCE BEHIND HIM to evaluate the quality of the projection as he departed the hidden estate via the checkpoint. He was confident it was an effective illusion, if not effective enough to deter the now-dead assassin.

  Richard had left for Earth an hour earlier, Caleb and Alex soon thereafter. Graham had intended to return to Seneca forthwith, but then a request came in from Field Marshal Gianno. He could’ve handled it remotely, but it turned out Olivia Montegreu was on Pandora this exact minute, so he delayed his departure long enough for a brief in-person meeting.

  The agreed-upon location for their encounter wasn’t far from the estate. He considered pondering whether the woman knew where they had been staying, but the likelier
truth was simply that this was an expensive, upscale neighborhood and thus to her tastes. Still, he took a circuitous route as an added precaution, lengthening his walk by multiple blocks.

  The added time also gave him an opportunity to debrief himself on the events of the last several hours. A significant threat had been eliminated with the death of the nameless assassin, though his experiences over the last several weeks left him suspicious the aliens retained other resources to deploy. He’d nearly lost another talented agent in the process…and he had to concede he still might. But Caleb had shown himself to be more like Stefan than expected when, despite clearly harboring underlying anger and distrust, he had reached out with the calm, reasoned overture.

  Graham sincerely hoped Caleb left Pandora bearing greater goodwill toward him than the agent had arrived with, because he was getting tired of taking the blows for a decision two decades old which had never been his to make in the first place. Martyrdom made for damn ill-fitting attire.

  He peered up when he realized he had arrived at the address provided. Then he double-checked to confirm the information, as it was an art museum. He’d accuse Montegreu of daring to possess a sense of humor…but as soon as he walked in the building he recognized the genius of her choice.

  The museum featured wide, open rooms, high ceilings and marble flooring which announced each footfall well in advance of the person’s arrival. A dearth of spectators made it impossible to hide other agents in a crowd or create chaos as a distraction for misdeeds. There was only a handful of aristocratic browsers…and guards. Lots and lots of guards.