“Very well. I assume you brought the necessary equipment?”
Mia opened one of the bags sitting beside the couch. “We’ve got Devon’s Prevo imaging and your ware sanitizer and programmer. Oh, and a new quantum I/O film and laser scalpel—” she winked at Devon “—in case you need to cut him open.”
“Hopefully that won’t be required. I doubt such a crude hack was able to do irreparable damage to the hardware.” She scanned the room, but located no suitable surface. “Remove the seat cushions from one of the couches and place them on the table. Devon you’ll need to lie on them, face-down. To be safe, I’m going to put you under for this.”
She cleared her throat. “Annie, once I repair the ware damage and remove the firewall, it will be up to you to make this happen.”
Mia stared out the viewport at Pandora’s rose-and-whiskey profile until her vision, Artificial-enhanced though it was, blurred from the strain of overuse.
Everything was in order and ready for their departure. She’d reached out to Noah before they left Earth. She hadn’t told him all the details, but she’d told him enough for him to agree she needed to leave, then get worried, then offer up a variety of resources and connections for their use. As a result, she now had a list of contacts on Pandora for Devon, including people he could go to for an apartment and a comprehensive false identity—people who wouldn’t ask questions.
Devon had agreed it was safest for them to split up for now. Two targets were harder to track than one, and the separation would distribute their activities across a broader range of networks. He planned to disappear into Pandora’s vast warenut underground.
She worried about him. She was used to looking out for herself, but she couldn’t impart to him the lifetime of lessons she’d learned through brutal experience—not in the little time they’d had since deciding to run. So she’d simply have to trust him.
As for her…well, she had other plans.
She was going home.
Part of her was happy to be returning to Romane, but at the same time she was a little apprehensive about it. How much would have changed in the intervening months while she slept? Would it still feel like home at all?
She glanced behind her, but nothing had changed. Devon was still out. As Abigail had departed and Annie was now offline, there was no way to find out how long he would remain so.
She went over to one of the chairs, dragged it to the viewport and sat down. Then she removed the disk containing Caleb’s message from her bag and placed her fingertip on it to retrieve the data.
She closed her eyes.
He was sitting on a couch, leaning forward with his elbows propped on his knees. And he was smiling.
“If you’re watching this, it means you’re awake, so we’ll move forward under that assumption. What am I saying? Of course you’re awake—it’s not as if anything in the galaxy can keep you under for long.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there when you woke up. But you didn’t need me to be there, just like you don’t need me to protect you in any way or from any thing. I’ve known this ever since that night thirteen years ago when I watched you retake your life and your freedom from Eli Baca by the point of a blade. You can save the galaxy and be a badass while doing so without my help.”
His eyes darkened noticeably, though the smile remained in place. “I don’t know how long we’ll be gone—I don’t know where this journey is going to take us. You and I have different paths to walk, which is how it should be. But when you wake up—which happens to be now—don’t you dare let them cow you into submission. Believe it or not, I happen to think your destiny wasn’t to help defeat the Metigens. I think your destiny still lies ahead of you.
“So do what you’ve always done—fight, scrape and claw your way through, obstacles be damned, to get to what you want. To claim what’s rightfully yours. Wherever and whatever that is. If you’re forced to topple a few governments or cartels along the way, they’ll understand. You’re a hero now—don’t let anyone forget it.
“If you get in a jam, let Noah help you out—he has some interesting and rather influential new friends these days. And a final piece of advice? You can trust Miriam Solovy, but you need to be honest with her. I’m not sure how or why it might matter, but if it should become relevant, and if you find yourself in need of an ally…keep her in mind.”
He shifted on the couch and took a deep breath. “So take care of yourself. Don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine…and if we’re not, at least it will be for interesting reasons. Alex says ‘hi’—or she did before she left to go meet her mother for lunch. It’s a goodbye lunch, although Miriam doesn’t know that. I hope to have some good stories to tell when I see you again—which I will. Until then.”
He gave her a final enchanting smile, and the recording ended.
Mia stretched out, wound her hands behind her head and sank deeper into the chair.
In retrospect, perhaps she should have watched the message before she stole multiple Artificials, Devon and herself out from under Miriam Solovy.
36
EARTH
EASC HEADQUARTERS (SPECIAL PROJECTS)
* * *
MIRIAM STARED AT THE EMPTY LAB WHERE until this evening an Artificial had resided. The matching room on the opposite side of the lab was similarly devoid of its former resident.
Devon’s office had been cleaned out, and Mia hadn’t visited her room at EASC Lodging in forty-four hours. Neither of them had passed through any security checkpoint on the Island in the last day. A skilled feat, even for individuals as clever as they undeniably were.
The entire incident had been executed so skillfully, in fact, that no one had realized anything was amiss until the early-shift tech officer had reported for duty at the lab fifteen minutes ago.
Most curious indeed.
Sensing she was no longer alone, she turned to discover Dr. Canivon standing in the entrance and gazing with detached interest at Annie’s server racks. The woman had been given an opportunity to shower and don fresh clothes after her rescue, but even so she appeared exceptionally calm and collected given all she’d been through. At times Miriam found herself wondering if the doctor was in reality an Artificial wearing human skin.
“Dr. Canivon. I’m glad my people were able to rescue you, and you didn’t come to harm. I regret they weren’t able to do so sooner.”
“I did what I needed to in order to survive, but I recognize I’ve created a more formidable enemy for you, and for that I apologize.”
“I don’t suppose you included a Kill Switch in the ware by chance?”
She shook her head. “A Kill Switch doesn’t work, as you’re aware. The Prevo can detect and disable it, no matter how subtle the programming.”
“Alas. I understand you took a detour on the return trip from New Babel.”
“Colonel Jenner received orders instructing him to do so.”
Miriam clasped her hands at the small of her back and strolled across the breadth of the room. “Yes, he did, which is why it’s rather interesting that neither I nor anyone else at EASC issued those orders.”
Dr. Canivon shrugged; it was a mild, understated motion as usual. “It must have been a bureaucratic mix-up, then. Those do happen, as I recall.”
“They do. Annie, send me the security records related to the disappearance of the hardware for Meno and Vii.”
The voice emanating from the speakers responded in a sterile, stilted tone. ‘I will do so, Admiral Solovy. However, the records show markers indicating they were altered. There is a 62.7819% likelihood the original data is unrecoverable.’
Miriam frowned and directed her attention more acutely at the other woman. “Dr. Canivon, what’s wrong with Annie?”
“I’d have to study her metaroutines at a minimum, but it’s possible the crude method used to sever the connection with Devon caused damage to her as well.”
“No. I spoke to her after the attack, and she was operating normally.”
&nb
sp; “Perhaps the damage has taken some time to manifest.”
“Days? I doubt it.”
‘Admiral Solovy, I believe I am able to carry out my duties in a full and effective manner.’
“That remains to be seen.” However she felt regarding whatever had happened here—something else remaining to be seen—she did not appreciate being left a crippled Artificial.
“You know where they went, don’t you?”
“I know where they were. I do not know where they went—and that is the truth.”
“They stole your Artificial, too. You can’t be happy about its theft.”
Dr. Canivon gave her a polite smile, as if to say ‘happiness’ was such a quaint concept. “I’m confident Vii is safe. I came here to tell you I’m resigning from my post at Special Projects. With no Prevos to oversee, I’m no longer needed here. I’ll be returning to Sagan to continue my work in an independent capacity.”
“Doctor, you will always be needed here. With Mr. Reynolds gone, I no longer have the services of a truly qualified quantum specialist.”
“You’ll locate another. Lt. Colonel Hutchens has shown promise, or consider enticing Gerard Bordelon away from his research position on Nyssus.”
“Given your extensive knowledge of Noetica, I can conscript your services, at which point you would be a criminal if you departed.” She paused to let the threat sink in. “But I won’t. The Military Oversight Committee will be displeased…but they can respectfully go to hell.”
The woman looked almost surprised. “Thank you, Admiral.”
“Appearances notwithstanding, I’m not doing it for you. Now, it seems I need to report the theft of high-value Alliance equipment. I probably won’t get around to it for another twenty minutes or so. It would benefit you to be absent from the Island by then, else you’re likely to find yourself the target of a quite lengthy interrogation by Major Lange.”
An odd expression flitted across Canivon’s face. It was the first hint of a candid emotion the woman had displayed since arriving, though it remained an unidentifiable one. “I frankly expected a far more negative reaction from you on discovering…” she glanced around the lab “…the situation. Why are you helping?”
“I’m not helping—I’m merely not hindering in as strenuous a fashion as I am able.”
“Semantics, Admiral. I’d appreciate an honest answer.”
“I’d appreciate a multitude of honest answers, but I rarely expect to receive them.” Miriam sighed; the verbal sparring was growing tiresome. Time to bring an end to it with, ironically, honesty.
“Before the war, before…a lot of things, you’re correct. I would have reacted in an extremely negative manner. And don’t think for an instant that I’m pleased about the ‘situation,’ for I assure you I am not. But my displeasure resides primarily in the circumstances which led to all this.
“There is a cancer festering in our government, and it’s growing in strength. I will find a way to kill it, but the truth is doing so will be far easier if I don’t have to safeguard Noetica and the lives dependent on it at the same time. This—” she gestured toward the empty rooms “—will be a setback today, but in the long run I believe I can redirect it to my advantage.”
The doctor seemed to accept the answer. “Then I wish you the best of luck. It is a worthy, if in my opinion futile, battle to wage.”
“If you should happen to speak to Devon or Mia, do me a favor and let them know I am…” she notched her chin higher, scarcely able to believe what she was saying “…open to having any conversation they may wish to engage in. Confidentially and off the record.”
Canivon turned to leave. “I’ll do so. If I should speak to them.”
Then the woman was gone, and Miriam was alone.
She’d been truthful earlier—if the future held the trials she expected, she was glad to not need to protect Devon and Mia. Though in the quiet interludes she worried about Alex, missed her, she was most of all glad she would not have to protect her daughter.
With no one left to protect, it was time to get to work. She exhaled deliberately and left the lab.
She spent the walk to her office pondering who might be left in the entire damn Alliance she could trust.
When she reached the office, she sent a pulse to Admiral Rychen.
Christopher, I’d like to meet with you soon. We need to discuss the Itero situation, and various other matters.
The response was almost instantaneous.
Certainly. I can clear my schedule and come to Earth next week.
That won’t be necessary. I’m coming to you.
SENECA
CAVARE
‘Field Marshal Gianno, do you have a specific directive you wish this unit to fulfill?’
Eleni canted her head ever so slightly in the direction of the overnight tech officer. “What’s wrong with my Artificial?”
“I-I can’t say, ma’am. Diagnostics are running, but thus far everything is returning nominal. Maybe it’s an issue with the vocalization ware—I’ll investigate it straightaway.”
“Do that.” She read through the message she’d received from Commander Lekkas again, then pivoted and left.
“Marshal Gianno, please come in. My wife’s asleep upstairs, but we can talk in my office.”
“Thank you, Chairman.” She nodded respectfully, cognizant of the protection detail agents both inside and outside the door to Vranas’ residence, and followed him down the hall to his home office in the back of the main floor.
When the door had closed behind them, he turned to her with a raised eyebrow. “It’s late, Eleni, even for you. What’s wrong? And whatever you do, do not say an alien invasion.”
She huffed a breath and sat in one of the chairs opposite his desk.
He eyed her suspiciously for another beat, then sat in the empty chair beside her rather than behind the desk. “Mother Mary, it’s another alien invasion.”
“It is not. Our borders are for the moment secure, and no one has declared war on us in the last day.”
“Thank God for that. So why are you here?”
“A couple of reasons. First, I’ve learned the Alliance is cheating us in regards to the adiamene shipments, and not merely at the margin—they’re delivering less than a third of the amount they’re contractually obligated to deliver.”
Vranas shook his head ruefully. “More headaches. How do you suggest we handle it?”
“With your permission, I intend to ask Director Delavasi to steal the chemical structural formula, schem flow and engineering specs for the adiamene. Let them continue to believe they’re deceiving us, and we’ll manufacture it ourselves.”
“Permission granted. But this didn’t call for a middle-of-the-night visit.”
“No, it didn’t. Noetica is disintegrating. The Alliance Assembly disconnected the EASC Prevo and broke the Artificial in the process. Now they aren’t yet aware we know this, which is to our advantage. Unfortunately, details about Noetica have slipped the net. The technology behind it may now be on the loose.”
He grimaced. “We knew it would happen eventually, I suppose, and we have contingency plans for how to respond if or when it becomes necessary to do so. I doubt our Parliament will act as bellicosely as the Alliance Assembly, but tighten security on STAN and the Prevo just in case.”
“It’s too late. STAN appears to be crippled as well and our Prevo is gone. She did do us the courtesy of destroying her connection to the Artificial first.”
“Gone?”
“Gone.”
“We don’t need such a dangerous asset running unbidden around settled space. Are you sending the Military Police after her?”
She stood and went to the glass door, staring at but not seeing the dark ripple of Lake Fuori beyond it. “That would be why I’m here. Before she left, she used STAN to locate some very, very classified files. The Artificial shouldn’t have had access to them, but I suspect ever since Noetica began it has had access to a great deal mo
re than we ever realized.” She looked over her shoulder at him. “She knows what we did.”
“We’ve done a lot of things, Eleni, and will answer for many of them one day.”
“True enough. But she knows about the mission that initiated the First Crux War.”
“Oh.” He dragged a hand down his face and stood to join her at the door to the porch. “Well, this is a problem. What are you thinking we should do?”
What indeed.
PART VII:
THE STARS LIKE GODS
“There is no planet, sun or star could hold you, if you but knew what you are.”
— Ralph Waldo Emerson
PORTAL: C-2
SYSTEM DESIGNATION:
KAMEN
37
IRELTSE
* * *
A RING OF TORCHES LIT THE ARENA floor and the funeral pyre it held. Pinchu and an honor guard entered from a dark corridor on the left, carrying Cassela’s body atop a long, elaborately adorned platform. When the procession reached the center of the arena, it placed the platform atop the stack of crisscrossing beams that formed the waiting pyre.
Many had died in the battle for the city, and they would be laid to rest by their families in private services over the coming days. Cassela was special, however, and not only to Pinchu. Thousands of Khokteh filled the arena to capacity; thousands more lined the streets outside, paying their respects simply by being present.
Alex and Caleb sat on the last row, high above the arena. They needed to be here, too, but didn’t want to interfere with or distract from the funeral proceeding.
The ceremony began in earnest, a series of customs and rites they didn’t understand.
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