Gianno leaned against the wall behind her and templed her fingertips at her chin. “Well, Miriam, I would consider only one Artificial for the task: the one I control. Also, one candidate immediately springs to mind as perfect for such a reckless experiment—assuming she survives the battle at Elathan, that is.”
21
ELATHAN
SENECAN FEDERATION COLONY
* * *
MORGAN DOVE IN A CORKSCREW SPIRAL through an expanse of debris, dodging and spinning to avoid the remnants of some two thousand destroyed Federation warships and fighters and untold alien swarmers. And nine superdreadnoughts, of course. She and her comrades had done an impressive job of slicing through the enemy lines, weakening the attacking force to the point she’d daresay the Metigens would not take Elathan. Not today.
Yet in her gut she sensed they were losing. Not this engagement, but perhaps the war.
The debris she navigated through told the tale. Even with the far larger size of the superdreadnoughts, five meters of Federation wreckage existed for every meter of Metigen. The Federation forces present today represented more than a third of their entire forces. Elathan was important to be sure, and worth defending so strongly. Yet this success—every success she suspected—cost them far too much.
It was also a problem for those far higher ranking than she. Her purpose was to take out as many swarmers as possible. One at a time. Her kill count was nineteen so far.
She was still flying despite taking out such a high number for two primary reasons. One, the added variable of large-scale bedlam did make it somewhat easier to escape death, as there were many distractions and intervening factors. Two, Stanley had done an exceptional job of simming the swarmers’ flight patterns. Given the Artificial’s general weakness in tactical analysis, it was odd. But she could ruminate on the synthetic’s idiosyncrasies later.
A flash of red below provided her a target. The swarmer paid her no mind as it chased its own prey. All the better. She’d need to get in front of it in order to take it out, but all in due time.
This would be a great deal easier if her ship were equipped with an arcalaser. The prototype weapon had been such a delight to play with, especially once she determined the errors were occurring because the targeting ware was continuously recalculating not merely the path to the target, but the nature and location of the target itself. Once it initialized a ‘sticky’ end point goal, the admittedly mind-blowing dynamically-generated quantum waveguides nudged the laser to its destination at a 92% success rate.
At the end of four hours on the test field she had filed her report, set the engineers straight and begged Field Marshal Gianno to send her into the fight. She had reached and surpassed her fill of sims and tests and dummy targets. It was long past time for her to kill these monsters for real.
As they always did, the alien vessel swung 40° to the comparatively open side to aim at the broadside of its target, in this case another fighter.
Commander Lekkas: SF-N3E-18B, do not alter course until I give the order, then dive -67° z.
SF-N3E-18B (Captain Prosky): Uh, why—swarmer on my tail!
Commander Lekkas: Do NOT alter course.
Captain Prosky: Shit. Holding course.
She swung opposite the swarmer E 38°.
Target. Aim. Lock.
Commander Lekkas: Now.
The fighter dropped, giving her a clear shot as the swarmer’s beam trailed after it.
Fire.
The enemy weapon jerked about for a single second before finding her and returning fire. But the delay was enough. Caught unprepared and on the defensive, it exploded while she still had a whole 12% left in her shields. She maneuvered around the resulting debris and made herself scarce until her shields recharged.
Captain Prosky: Thanks.
Commander Lekkas: What? She had already moved on from the previous encounter and the imperiled fighter which had enabled it. Oh. Sure. Watch your tail more closely from now on.
Captain Prosky: Yes, Commander.
The sun’s rays caught the trio of wafer-thin rings circling Elathan as she arced above the bulk of the combat and traversed their plane, transforming the cornsilk-hued rings to a pure, vibrant gold. Annoyed at the interference in her view of the battlefield, she pivoted to put the luminous glow behind her.
Her new vantage revealed two cruisers playing a game of chicken with a superdreadnought. The alien behemoth was coming apart at the seams, crimson plasma streaming out of multiple hull breaches to leave an ominous cloud in its wake, but at this point its inertial force alone might send it crashing into both the cruisers if they didn’t divert soon.
She shook her head and berated herself for getting distracted; she was lucky a swarmer didn’t dart behind her and blow her engine while she gawked. Time for a new target. She studied the tactical whisper display, for she had found it a more reliable gauge in the crowded battlefield than simply looking out the viewport.
There. She climbed vertically to approach the target from above—
Colonel Idoni (SFS Gandin): Commander Lekkas, return to the Gandin.
She jerked in surprise and lost track of the swarmer in the sea of enemy vessels. Retreat to the carrier? But the battle was far from over.
Commander Lekkas: Repeat instruction.
Colonel Idoni: Commander, you are ordered to return to the Gandin immediately.
What?
Commander Lekkas: Acknowledged.
She wrenched the ship away from the center of the heaviest combat and toward the carrier hovering in relative safety six megameters away.
Morgan abandoned her fighter to the flight deck crew and stormed to the lift, where she marched in a tight circle all the way up to the bridge. The order had come from the Gandin’s XO, thus he was likeliest to know what the hell was going on.
An odd calm permeated the bridge. It probably shouldn’t be surprising, though. After delivering its fighters and assorted specialty craft, the carrier had little to do for the duration of the conflict other than catch the occasional damaged vessel limping into its bay and try not to get blown up.
She located the XO at a station to the left of the overlook and charged up to him, then tapped her foot impatiently and loudly while he issued instructions to a comms officer. He started turning away from her location, head buried in a handheld screen; she spun around him until she blocked his path. “Sir, I’m back aboard the Gandin and requesting an explanation as to why.”
“Ah, Commander. I was just about to send for you. You’re on a transport shuttle out of here for Seneca in eight minutes.”
“Is there a particular reason why?”
He shrugged. “Field Marshal’s orders.”
22
EARTH
EASC HEADQUARTERS
* * *
A BARRAGE OF SPECIAL PROCEDURES, subterfuge and security dominated their arrival on Earth. It all grated on Alex’s nerves like a shrill, discordant hum in her eardrums. She wanted to land at ORSC and dock in her own bay. She wanted to go home and take a shower in her loft and sleep in her own bed. She wanted to give the proverbial finger to the guards and escape their claustrophobic scrutiny.
Though the compulsion was strong, she did none of these things. She attributed her uncharacteristic restraint primarily to Caleb’s calming presence at her side, but also to a wholly unfamiliar desire to not aggravate her mother. Oh, she fully expected to aggravate her mother once or twice at a minimum before the fate of humanity was decided, but she would try to save it for something more worthwhile than well-meaning if irksome efforts to keep her alive.
She docked at EASC Headquarters under a false serial number designation and a false name. They were met at the hangar by Richard, a Major Lange and four imposing and formidable-looking military security officers. Given the audience, she received only a nod and a quick smile from Richard. He carried the rank of Brigadier now, after all, and was doubtless feeling the weight of his added authority.
Caleb mad
e certain they had been cleared to carry their personal weapons, then they were taken directly to the relocated Operations offices. Their route did not take them by the Headquarters wreckage, but it was impossible to miss the deep rumble of heavy machinery permeating the air.
The layout and rooms of the Logistics building weren’t familiar to her. For as much as she had despised her visits to HQ, it had at least been a known quantity. This new location did little to put her at ease.
She griped quietly as they were led down another new hallway. “Ugh, I can’t believe I almost miss the Headquarters building.”
Caleb regarded her with a teasing twinkle in his eye, and she crinkled her nose up at him. “What?”
He leaned in closer so as not to be overheard by their escorts. “I was simply remembering…you strolled through that building like you owned the entire damn place, and not an officer’s stripe to be found on your person. You were amazing.”
“Right up until I got you arrested.”
His lips were at her ear. “Well, it worked out.”
The lilting murmur sent a delightful shiver radiating down her spine.
Oh, yes it did.
He chuckled in response but stepped away as they entered the top-floor Operations Suite and their escorts at last retreated to a reasonable distance. Her mother hadn’t arrived yet, but Dr. Canivon should be on-site and—
—Kennedy materialized out of nowhere and promptly tackled her with enough fervor to nearly knock her to the floor. “You are the craziest, most insane woman in the galaxy, but damned if you aren’t also the luckiest!”
“Or the craftiest. It’s good to see you, too, Ken.” Alex managed to disentangle from the embrace and regain her footing. “I hear you had quite the life-threatening ordeal yourself.”
Kennedy gestured a mock dismissal. “It was no big deal. Except for all the ways it was a big deal. Speaking of….” She turned to Caleb, who waited against the opposite wall. “Caleb, I’m glad you made it, too. There’s someone here you might like to see.”
His eyebrows rose in surprise. “Someone I want to see? I don’t know anyone on Earth…do I?”
Kennedy motioned for them to follow her around the corner and into a lounge/break room. It was empty except for one occupant. A man sporting shoulder-length dirty blond hair, rugged khakis and a faded t-shirt was putting the ‘lounge’ nature of the room to full use. He had kicked way back on a couch, tossed his feet atop the table in front of it and crossed his hands behind his head.
“I’ll be damned. Noah?”
The guy pushed up off the couch. “Hey, you did live!” He and Caleb met halfway and embraced in the casual, masculine way guys do. She noted Caleb subtly shift his body in such a way that his injured side wasn’t at risk.
Alex eyed Kennedy expectantly.
“He sort of saved my life on Messium. We hid out, deciphered the cause of the exanet interference, crossed a city under attack by the aliens and fled the planet in a shuttle—and in this total crazy random happenstance, it turns out he knows Caleb.”
She watched Caleb and this ‘Noah’ chatting animatedly. “So I see. There’s more to the story though, right?”
“Well, sure. He’s Lionel Terrage’s clone but ditched his father to live on the wild side on Pandora, and the Zelones cartel put a price on his head, which is why he went to Messium in the first place—”
“I meant are you two together?”
“Oh. I think so.”
“You think so? It’s not like you to be tentative when it comes to men.”
Kennedy grumbled. “I know. And yes, we are. It’s just…” her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper “…he’s a bit of a free spirit. I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to keep him.”
Alex’s lips pursed together to squelch a laugh. They tugged upward nevertheless, eyes dancing in flagrant amusement.
“What?”
Her gaze roved to the ceiling. “Nothing.”
“Oh, say what you want to say already.”
“I was merely wondering if perhaps you had finally met your match. And if so, it’s about damn time.”
Kennedy’s head thudded against the wall behind them. “I am in so much trouble.”
She did laugh then, and was still laughing when Caleb brought Noah over for introductions.
Alex left Caleb in the lounge with Kennedy and Noah. The levity and relaxation they brought would do him good, she thought.
He was in a much better state of mind now—after the attack, ironically. He had slept most of the trip from Pandora, for which she was immensely thankful. It was far better than all the not sleeping he had done on the trip to Pandora. But more importantly it had allowed his body to devote most of its energy to supercharging the regenerative process, and as a result he was now healing at an accelerated pace.
Still, the events of the past several days or even weeks had used up a lot of his reserves. He deserved a break.
Of course, he’d probably say the same of her…but he would be incorrect. She wasn’t worn down. On the contrary, she felt invigorated, driven inexorably forward by the conviction that she possessed the ability and the means to bring an end to this war.
The Special Projects building was a five-minute walk away, which meant she had an escort of three MPs. Despite her casual behavior toward her escorts, they remained polite and respectful to such a degree she was forced to consider the possibility it might simply be that they were terrified of her mother.
Because Special Projects was not locked-down so tight as Operations, her guards not only escorted her to the door of the lab, they inspected its contents and personnel before allowing her inside. Two of the MPs then took up positions outside the door and the third staked out the hallway entrance.
Dr. Abigail Canivon had been allowed to take over the testing and development lab for ANNIE, complete with the attached clean room to house Valkyrie’s hardware. Alex entered to find her standing at the giant, distinctive 3x3 screen from her lab, which she had apparently brought along from Sagan. Thousands of lines of code were jammed onto the right side of the screen, grouped into segments with squiggly lines and arrows creating a web to interconnect them. The left side displayed a series of schematics for what looked to be portions of the human brain, magnified in several cases to a neuron level of detail.
“Nice friends you have there. The frisking they subjected me to was quite thorough,” the woman muttered as she tweaked one of the strings of code.
“Sorry about that. They weren’t my idea.”
Canivon finally turned around and gave her a wary glance. “I’m afraid there isn’t a proper place for us to sit and converse, but you’re welcome to pull up a chair.”
Alex dragged a plain lab-style chair next to the screen and sat backwards in it, crossing her arms over the top of the backrest. “Do you have everything you need?”
“For now. I do expect to be requesting a significant number of additional items soon.” Canivon found her own chair and brought it closer to the screen, though she sat properly in it. “This isn’t the time for small talk. You want her, don’t you? It’s why you insisted I bring her with me.”
No equivocation, straight to the point. Alex was immediately reminded of why she had always admired Canivon. “I do.”
The woman’s mouth twitched. “This building houses an Artificial which is by any objective measure more powerful. It’s certainly larger, even if half the hardware could be eliminated with the judicious application of a few efficiency principles. It is newer and contains a plethora of databanks on military history, procedures, resources and tactics. It is already a part of the Alliance infrastructure. Use it instead.”
“I don’t know ANNIE—and to put it bluntly, I don’t want a government machine mucking about in my head. Hell, odds are it would spend the entire time making sure we’re following the proper checklist; everyone else in the government does. I know Valkyrie—and I know you will have built her to the highest standards.”
&nb
sp; “You spent an hour with her four years ago.”
“Which is fifty-nine minutes longer than I’ve spent conversing with any other Artificial. I liked her and she liked me, something you readily admitted. It’s the obvious, logical choice, and the only one I’m comfortable making. Doctor, I recognize she is important to you, but in my hands she is important to our very existence. I don’t merely want her—I need her.”
“She isn’t important to me. She is precious to me.” The woman blinked and lifted her shoulders. “But she would not forgive me if I denied her the chance to help save humanity. You win. If this impressively subversive idea of yours is allowed to go forward…she is yours.”
Dr. Canivon was a taciturn, aloof woman on a good day, and Alex didn’t know her well enough to decipher her reaction. “Thank you. I mean it.”
The woman let out a sigh Alex did identify as exasperation. “If you’re going to become a symbiote of my closest companion, you may as well go ahead and start calling me ‘Abigail,’ seeing as she does.”
“All right then, Abigail. What now?”
Abigail’s demeanor didn’t change; she didn’t look up and the tenor of her voice did not alter. “Valkyrie, do you remember Ms. Solovy?”
The voice came from a speaker near the large display. “Of course I do. I have been attempting to follow your exploits these last two months, Alex, but information has been scarce. I’m very pleased to see you alive and well.”
“Thank you, Valkyrie. I’m not sure I’d call what I’ve been doing ‘exploits,’ but I’ll admit it hasn’t lacked for excitement.”
“When you have a few minutes, would you consider telling me about it?”
The Artificial’s intonation and speech patterns were far more natural than she remembered; four years had made a discernable difference. She smiled. “If you’re willing, I can do more than tell you. You can see it for yourself.”
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