Aurora Rising: The Complete Collection

by G. S. Jennsen

  Romane would not evacuate unless and until there remained no other choice, and by that point chaos was certain to have descended. The bag she was packing would serve her well enough wherever the transport ended up but would also serve her well if she never made it off the planet.

  She was glad the bureaucrats managed to see past their narrow perspectives and realize they needed to put aside imagined differences and work together before everyone died. Whether the changes of heart had come in time to prevent everyone from dying remained to be seen. She was glad Caleb, and Alex, had been cleared of wrongdoing; Alex’s mother was even attending the Summit. She’d be more glad once she heard from him. Them. One of them, preferably both.

  But she couldn’t waste energy and brain power worrying about Caleb and his girlfriend. She needed to worry about her own survival now.

  She tossed a basic toiletries kit in the pack and closed it, then took it to the front door, set it against the wall and straightened up. “Meno, I’m coming to you. I want to run through some simulations on the aliens’ movements.”

  “Romane will proudly stand side-by-side with a united humanity to meet these—”

  “—invaders with the full might and skill of the human race. Thank you.”

  Miriam ticked off the seconds until she could exit the public spectacle and get to work. 3…2…1…. She stood, acknowledged Brennon’s nod—a signal his directives had not changed during Governor Ledesme’s speech—and headed for a far smaller conference room down the hall.

  The Summit was being held at the Carina Center on Romane. She almost wished she had the luxury of relaxing, for it was by far the most elegant, modern convention facility she had ever visited. The view outside the shuttle during the brief flight from the spaceport had suggested that much of the city exhibited a similar level of class.

  She decided if they somehow survived this invasion, when the war was over she would take a…va-ca-tion. The word rolled strangely in her mind. And her…vacation…would be to Romane.

  But right now she would do her job, because if she didn’t the facility and the city which supported it were likely to soon be a pile of smoldering rubble.

  Field Marshal Gianno had managed to beat her to the conference room. If the Summit went on for longer than a day she’d need to discover how the woman had done so. They had spoken twice via holo in the last two days but had never met in person.

  There was no procedure for formalities between officers of equivalent rank from opposing militaries, so she merely offered her hand in what remained a universal greeting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, Marshal Gianno.”

  The woman grasped her hand crisply and peered past Miriam’s shoulder. “It’s only us, correct?”

  “For the moment, I believe so.”

  Gianno pulled out a chair and sat. “Call me Eleni, then. We have time for nothing else.”

  “So we do not. And it’s Miriam.” She took the seat across from her counterpart. “In that vein, I propose we simply assume the politicians will reach a peace deal—for if they do not I shall murder them myself—and move forward as if they’ve done so. As you so eloquently put it, we have time for nothing else.”

  “I agree.” Gianno placed a small square module on the desk and activated it; multiple screens burst to life in the space above the table.

  “We haven’t yet engaged the alien ships as you did—or anyone who may have done so has not made it out alive to share their experience. But we have had some success capturing information using long-range reconnaissance squads.

  “Our latest intel indicates four superdreadnoughts each at Hadron and Midgard and six at Dair. Eight ships left New Riga seventeen hours ago, as well as four from Lycaon a few hours later. Neither group could be tracked at superluminal speeds. We’re monitoring for them at Brython, Nystad and Elathan. And, obviously, Seneca.”

  Miriam shared similar information: forty-four ships currently attacking six worlds and a minimum of sixteen in transit from colonies whose decimation had been accomplished. They both settled back in their chairs to contemplate what in the aggregate made for the beginnings of real, hard intel.

  “So on average it’s taking the aliens two days and four ships to eradicate a world of 50,000, five days and six ships for a population of 100,000, and at least one week and considerably more ships for anything larger.”

  “They haven’t departed Messium yet, then?”

  “No. Though by this point there can’t be much left for them to demolish so I expect they will depart within hours. We destroyed two and damaged three superdreadnoughts in the battle, as well as around two hundred of the swarmers, but it was only a fraction of the force they fielded.”

  “Impressive though, especially considering your ships couldn’t talk to one another and coordinate their tactics.”

  Miriam looked across the table in surprise. “Has no one told you? We can talk to one another.”

  The peace deal was brokered in less than four hours.

  A formal cessation of hostilities was signed by the politicians on the spot and a bare-bones treaty approved subject to the respective legislatures’ passage, which was expected by the next morning.

  Military forces were ordered to withdraw from all Alliance-Federation conflict zones. Under the circumstances the vast majority of those forces were then ordered either east or to the Sol or Senecan stellar systems.

  In a somewhat unexpected turn of events, Desna’s fate was to be left to the Desnans themselves. The colonists were to hold a referendum within the week choosing whether to rejoin the Alliance, stay part of the Federation or go it alone as an Independent. Conventional wisdom said they’d return to the Alliance, but the Federation occupation had not been a harsh or violent one and some commentators conceded it might go a different way.

  Over the course of the four hours it took to hammer out the treaty, Miriam and Eleni’s meeting gained more attendees, in person and via holo. Freed of conflicting objectives and at last facing a single front in a single war—even if that front extended for more than six kiloparsecs—it only remained for the two most powerful women in the galaxy to do the impossible: formulate a strategy for defending against, facing and ultimately defeating the enemy.

  58

  NEW BABEL

  INDEPENDENT COLONY

  * * *

  THE TRIENE HEADQUARTERS COMPLEX was utilitarian. Functional. Brutally efficient.

  The decor wasn’t drab by any objective measure, though it lacked a certain refined style Olivia preferred. Still, she had to concede it likely got the job done well enough.

  She strode through the…she’d call it offices, but in reality it was a hybrid command center / manufacturing plant / storage facility…exuding enough authority to ward off most interference.

  Those who didn’t recognize her and felt confident enough to assert dominance were, in most cases, restrained by those who did recognize her. There was one unfortunate incident involving a security guard. He should heal sufficiently, assuming a decent med kit lay in close proximity.

  The trek over had been marked by far greater hazards. The streets were nothing less than bedlam, descending toward riotous.

  New Babel represented one of the westernmost colonies in settled space and had become the default destination for every less-than-upstanding citizen in the galaxy fleeing the aliens. This was a problem. The colony maintained a rudimentary but delicate ecosystem, and it was currently being upended by the influx of tens of thousands of new people, many of them lacking basic manners and most of them carrying no obligations to restrain their behavior. The lack of a single organized security force, long an asset, was rapidly becoming a liability.

  Aiden was waiting on her when she reached the atrium of his suite. He doubtless would have been notified of her approach by multiple people.

  He leaned on the door to his inner office, his arms crossed in feigned casualness over his chest. His eyes were guarded and he was not smiling. She expected no less; she had arrive
d unannounced and uninvited. Here in his domain, she was for all intents and purposes an enemy.

  “Ms. Montegreu. I’d say this is a surprise, but you know it is and intended it as such.”

  She shrugged with equally feigned dismissiveness. “There wasn’t an opportunity to arrange otherwise.” Mindful of their audience of a secretary, two lieutenants and three enforcers, she maintained a respectful distance. “May we speak in private?”

  Instead of answering her, Aiden jerked his head in the direction of two of the enforcers.

  As they approached her she offered up a Daemon and a gamma blade. “I needed to protect myself on the way over. If you’ve been outside in the last several days, you’re aware the streets are inordinately dangerous.”

  “Understood. Your weapons will be returned to you when you depart.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Trieneri.” She was going so very far out of her way to pay him the proper deference in front of his employees. It was revolting.

  He only mostly suppressed a smirk as he gestured toward his office. “After you, Ms. Montegreu.”

  She stepped inside, then turned in time to see him tap a panel as the door closed. Surveillance shielding, she thought. That damn well better be all it was.

  “What are you doing here, Olivia?”

  She positioned herself on the edge of his desk. “It’s the end of days, Aiden. I can’t simply want a good lay?”

  That earned her a chuckle despite his attempt to be gruff. “Of course you can—but you don’t. Not right now.”

  “And how do you know?”

  He swiftly crossed the space between them, dropping his hands on the desk on either side of her and bringing his lips within centimeters of hers. “When you want sex, I know it from ten meters away. Now? You don’t smell horny.”

  Her pulse quickened at the danger of his closeness. He had handed over no weapons, naturally. “Fuck you, Aiden.”

  “Ha. Maybe later?” He retreated to the center of the room and returned his arms to his chest. “I’ll ask you one more time, Olivia, then I’ll have you escorted out. What are you doing here?”

  “You might have heard, aliens are attacking—” she held up a hand to forestall his retort “—and I assume you no more want civilization to be annihilated than I do. It’s bad for business. Therefore, I’m here to propose a temporary truce between our organizations.”

  His expression was completely unreadable. He was good at masking his emotions, assuming he had any. “A truce?”

  “Until the aliens are dealt with or we all suffer horrific deaths, whichever happens first. Neither of us should be wasting valuable resources competing against—and in some cases fighting—one another when those resources are needed to defend ourselves.”

  He considered her a moment. “There’s more to it.”

  She scowled, disturbed by the notion he may be able to read her better than she assumed. “I have an arrangement with elements of the Alliance and Federation governments. Because I don’t wish the human race to become extinct, I’ve agreed to assist them in several respects.”

  “You’re working for the authorities? I have a great deal of difficulty believing that.”

  “As do I. Nevertheless, desperate times, desperate measures. I’m providing useful supplies to aid in the war effort.”

  “And?”

  “And I want you to join me in aiding them.”

  His eyes narrowed precipitously. “You’re serious.”

  “While I easily have access to anything and everything they will need, I admit your organization has its strengths in specific areas. Those strengths could benefit said war effort.”

  He did smirk this time, a dark and malicious countenance which reminded her he was, in point of fact, not a nice man. “Olivia, are you asking for my help?”

  She shoved off the desk and charged past him toward the door. “This was clearly a mistake. Don’t expect to hear from me again.”

  His hand shot out to grab her and wrench her against him. His stare bored into her, only shifting briefly to glance at the blade she now had pressed to his neck. She didn’t acknowledge the gun digging into her side.

  Then his mouth crushed into hers. She met it with equal force.

  When he pulled back a fraction, a thin trail of blood dribbled down his neck. She hadn’t meant to cut him; he had moved too fast. Such were the risks in their game.

  “Olivia. Are you asking for my help?”

  “I’m asking for you to help save the galaxy. I realize ‘saving’ anything or anyone isn’t something either of us make a habit of doing, but in this instance it is in our best interest to do so.”

  The blade still rested at his neck; she hadn’t yet been given a reason to remove it. “Aiden, don’t lose your business and yourself to this rising tide of chaos. Grab hold of this opportunity with me and we will both emerge stronger and more powerful. We can rebuild civilization atop the ruins. We can reshape the structure of society to our advantage. All we have to do is help them win.”

  Ever so slowly a mischievous smile pulled his lips upward. “I do enjoy it when you talk dirty to me.”

  ATLANTIS

  INDEPENDENT COLONY

  Matei reclined in his chaise and sipped on a Polaris Burst cocktail.

  The afternoon sun warming his skin sparkled on the crystal blue waters and turned the sand to glittering glass. His mood was as light as everyone else’s on Atlantis was dark. The resort world hummed a chromatic vibrato, a dissonant transition portending the coming doom. Gone was the carefree excess and easy joy of a people at the height of civilization who believed themselves invincible.

  There existed two kinds of people still gracing the beaches of Atlantis. One was composed of families with young children. The parents worked desperately to preserve their children’s innocence for one more minute, one more day. They built sandcastles and frolicked in the shallow waters and beamed at the young ones’ cackles of delight, but terror etched grim lines into their faces. Sunglasses hid the paralyzing fear haunting their eyes.

  The other, more numerous kind consisted of those who had decided they were going to exit the universe drunk or high, and often both. Alcohol poisoning or a non-neural chimeral overdose would be all but impossible for anyone wealthy enough to afford to be on Atlantis in the first place, thanks to genetic modifications and regulating cybernetic subroutines…but that wasn’t stopping them from trying. They came from all age groups and near as he had been able to determine, all professions.

  Individuals reacted in any number of ways to extreme stress and, relatedly, to impending death. A non-negligible percentage of people reacted in a manner which could be summed up by, ‘Screw it, I’m going out in style!’

  Atlantis security was doing its best to keep the two groups separated, but he’d witnessed several bizarre encounters between desperate, frayed parents and persons who were quite obviously out of their minds.

  The rules of civilized society were beginning to break down, and on this world where excess and debauchery were encouraged and even celebrated, the first cracks in the wall were on stark display.

  He smiled pleasantly and wound his hands behind his head on the chaise. The news feed scrolling on his whisper provided a tableau of destruction and mayhem overlaid upon the bright waters and cerulean skies. The contrast pleased him—

  You are too far west to do your job.

  He took another sip of his drink. And he had thought the chess game over with the death of Aguirre and general collapse of the man’s little conspiracy. Alas.

  “Is there something you require of me, Hyperion?”

  Caleb Marano and Alexis Solovy will soon return. They must be eliminated.

  “Very well, though I don’t see the point. They no longer represent a threat to the human war, seeing as there no longer is a human war.”

  They represent a threat to us. Eliminate them.

  Matei gave no overt reaction, but his curiosity piqued. The alien was always enigmatic and often baffli
ng, but it had never before been…testy. He felt the need to prod at the weak spot. Explore it a bit. “How could two insignificant humans represent a threat to you?”

  They traversed our portal.

  So that was where they went. He was glad he hadn’t wasted much time or effort searching for the pair and instead waited for the intel to come to him. “Interesting, but I’m still not clear how this makes them a threat to you?”

  They traversed our PORTAL. They have seen us. They have conversed with us. They have acquired knowledge of us.

  Glimpsed the man behind the curtain, did they? He wondered what had been revealed, what the secret might be the aliens remained so desperate to protect. Sadly he didn’t expect either Marano or Solovy to consent to tell him before he killed them.

  “Understood. I’ll travel to Romane. From there I’ll be well positioned to move. Besides, there aren’t many places left farther east which still have functioning spaceports.”

  This is acceptable. If our units do not eliminate them on their return, we will inform you of their location.

  “Your ‘units’?”

  Our machines.

  “You know, if you’re so anxious to have Marano and Solovy dead, why don’t you simply kill them yourself while you have them on your side of the portal?”

  Absurd. We grew beyond such barbarism aeons ago.

  He glanced at the vid of the alien ships battering New Maya playing on his whisper. “All evidence to the contrary.”

  Your meaning eludes me.

  “You’ve killed over forty million people in the last three weeks. Seems to me you’re rather adept at killing.”

  No. The machines kill. We do not kill.

  “The instrument a killer employs in the act does not kill. The killer kills.”

  Spare me your childish logic. You will receive the targets’ location soon.

  Then the alien was gone.

  Matei took a final sip of his drink, breathed a long sigh tainted with regret and stood. It appeared his vacation was at an end, or at a minimum an interlude.