“Not in the slightest…” a retreat toward the stairwell “…which is why I really should.”
He bit his lower lip, blinked and forced a smile. “Understood. Good night, Alex.”
Her eyes closed for a moment. She nodded, seemingly to herself, and started down the stairs. “Good night, Caleb.”
Alex lay on the bed, still dressed, the bed still made, and stared at the ceiling.
What was she doing?
She ached to leap off the bed, vault up the stairs and claim the kiss stolen from her by the alarm. And whatever followed.
She wouldn’t have stopped him; she had been moving into him, welcoming the embrace and its consequences.
She had no particular problem with casual sex. Though she’d never give Ken a run for her money, she had engaged in it from time to time. And given all the stress and tumult of the last week, god knows she could use some about now….
So why not follow through now? Why not leap off the bed, vault up the stairs and give in to the undeniable attraction and sexual tension which had been building for days—hell, since about five seconds after they met?
Because she was afraid.
It wasn’t easy for someone like her, to admit even to herself she was afraid. Unless it was of an army of massive alien ships—and that hadn’t been easy to admit.
But she was afraid.
She was afraid it wouldn’t be casual at all. She was afraid if she fell into the ocean of those devastating blue eyes, she might drown. His easygoing demeanor belied an intensity simmering just beneath the surface, one constantly threatening to overwhelm her even from afar.
She was afraid if she allowed him in, if she opened up, if she shed the multiple layers of emotional armor in which she wrapped herself, she risked losing the very control over herself and her life she so treasured. Control she had cultivated for years, decades.
And when he inevitably left, she was afraid she would have lost her way.
38
METIS NEBULA
Inner Bands
* * *
Major Donel Fergusson stood at the wide viewport of the SFS Aegea and gazed out at nothing.
It wasn’t actually nothing, of course. It was nebular gas and dust and particles. It glowed the color of lemonade with dashes of periwinkle.
It was a tactical nightmare. There were no distinguishing features, no points of reference and no shadowy recesses in which to hide.
In addition to the Aegea, the 2nd GOI Platoon consisted of four electronic warfare and two reconnaissance vessels. All the ships were well-equipped both offensively and defensively, but the majority of the firepower was concentrated in the Aegea. It also sported a suite of VI-driven probes and wideband passive sensors.
And though every ship possessed the finest in multilayer dampeners, the Aegea provided further protection in the form of an adaptive field. Dynamically generated and powered by a dedicated LEN reactor, it extended out in a five kilometer radius from the hull and blended all emissions within it into the surrounding cosmic radiation. ‘The Bubble,’ as the team referred to it, encompassed the entirety of the Platoon during normal impulse travel. In the absence of shadowy recesses in which to hide, it would have to suffice.
“Rather beautiful, wouldn’t you say?”
He glanced over at Lieutenant Udine, who had joined him at the viewport. “Just looks like gas and dust to me.”
The young man laughed. “My mother’s a cosmologist. She’d faint on the spot if she heard you say that. I guess a bit of her perspective wore off on me.”
“I didn’t know we let dreamers into the special forces these days.”
“Only on the sly.”
“Well, I won’t spill your secret, but you might want to keep it to yourself. Some of these soldiers may be inclined to break your spine if they catch you waxing poetic.”
“I welcome them to try, sir.”
“Ha! Good to hear.” His gaze drifted around the bridge. The Aegea was thinly staffed, and everyone on board doubled as a commando, sniper, EMT or half a dozen other roles along with running the frigate. “Scans?”
“Expected EM signatures continue steady from the core region of the Nebula, sir. No deviations and no additional readings.”
He activated the platoon-wide comm. “Re-engage sLume drives on my mark, destination 0.4 AU out from the portal, heading 22.4° NE. This will be our final superluminal traversal before reaching the target zone. Ready state on arrival. Two…one…mark.”
The gas clouds blurred and faded, though it hardly looked any different to him. As they had already been deep in the Metis interior, the journey took minutes.
The ‘scenery’ which snapped back into focus shone considerably brighter than before and had organized itself into pillars of thick, nearly solid cloud formations.
“Status report.”
“EM signatures match those provided, sir. TLF signal originating N 297.41° W, distance 0.39 AU. No anomalies detected.”
“Recon 1, Recon 2: fan and approach TLF origin, full stealth. Slow and easy, boys.”
Acknowledged.
He waited. Civilians imagined special forces missions were all gunfire and explosions—but whether in an urban incursion or deep space, eighty percent of any mission involved waiting.
Somewhere beyond the towering golden clouds sat an army of alien vessels. Once located, the team would take measurements and visuals from maximum safe distance. They would send a drone back out of the nebula to report contact. Then they would remain here, hidden in The Bubble, ready to track the alien force if or when it departed.
Unless the aliens were already gone, a far worse scenario. If they had departed the portal they could now be, quite literally, anywhere—in which case in order to track them, the team would first have to find them. Hopefully before the aliens massacred a world or did whatever it was they were planning to do.
He fully understood the size and scope of the enemy force which awaited. The power of the force he couldn’t say, as the type or size of their weaponry remained unknown. But one thing he had learned over the years was every adversary had a weakness. Fortified ships were slow and unwieldy; small ones were fragile. Bombs could be disarmed, EM attacks shielded. In this case, enormous ships simply made for enormous targets—not that he intended on shooting at them. Not this mission anyway.
“Recon 1, Recon 2, report. See anything yet?”
He was met by silence. Sometimes their shielding was a little too good. “Comms, can you establish a connection with either of the recon units or their pilots?”
“Negative, Major. Recon units are not responding, nor are they showing up on scans.”
Well, they wouldn’t. “Keep trying. All ships, prepare to advance at 0.5 impulse. Stay inside The Bubble. I repeat, stay inside The Bubble.”
Acknowledged.
The Aegea and its complement of electronic warfare ships flew silently into the pillar of nebular clouds. The viewport revealed only a bright yellow haze, thick as the fog rolling through Cove Bay when he was a child visiting his grandparents on the Scottish coast. He hadn’t been to Earth since the First Crux War. If galactic events continued on their current path, he may never see Cove Bay again…which seemed a shame.
A bank of screens filled with broad-spectrum sensor readings created the illusion of sight as they advanced. The screens displayed the positions of the other ships (minus the Recon units), the locations of the pulsar, its companion white dwarf and the location of the portal, as well as a plethora of scientific data beyond his expertise.
“Major, we should clear the densest clouds in another thirty seconds or so.”
“All ships, slow to 0.2 impulse. Again, stay inside The Bubble.”
Acknowl—
“Sir, I’m picking up a—”
The last thought Major Fergusson had as the blazing white pulse incinerated the Aegea and the rest of the 2nd GOI Platoon was that the viewport’s spectrum filters really needed to be upgraded, because this was just
too damn bright.
39
SIYANE
Space, Sol System
* * *
Alex spun the cockpit chair around when she heard him come up the stairs. He wore a smile; she returned it in full. If he had taken her retreat the night before as a snub, he wasn’t showing it. They had quickly fallen back into a comfortable, easy, mildly flirtatious routine this morning. She was glad for it.
It wasn’t the only reason she felt rather relaxed, all things considered. While normally she retained at most a vague, mild attachment to Earth as ‘home,’ in the current circumstances she had been relieved to enter the Sol System. Yes, it was home, but it was also the best defended stellar system in existence. If Earth’s defenses weren’t enough to keep it safe, nowhere would be safe.
“Final clearance granted. Looks like your alter ego ID held up. Ready to see the homeland?”
“I’ve seen Earth, Alex.”
“In vids.”
“In full-sensory overlay.”
“Still not the same.” She shrugged teasingly. “You’ll see.”
When they exited the Northeast 1 Pacific Corridor they were above the Gulf of Alaska. She veered south-southeast and slowed the angle of descent to run slightly off the coast.
The waters began a deep cerulean, but shifted to a paler cyan as they approached land. It being late fall, the massive glaciers had already begun descending from the mountain peaks toward the shore. Two icebergs were mid-calving from a glacier and the water was sprinkled with free-floating chunks of ice.
She watched him out of the corner of her eye as discreetly as she could manage. He had doubtless seen many worlds and more than a few wonders. He wouldn’t be easy to impress…but it didn’t hurt to try.
His gaze was riveted out the viewport, but his expression in profile appeared scrupulously neutral except for the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips—
—he sucked in a gasp, and the formerly neutral expression lit up in delight. She followed where his gaze led. A school of five orcas had broken the surface in dramatic fashion as they pushed through the ice slush and into the open waters. They danced and dove—then the largest one leapt out of the water, spinning through the air to land on its dorsal fin and send a cascade of frothing water over its companions.
She gave up watching him discreetly and grinned. “They were once nearly extinct. It took a lot of work to bring them back into the wild.” She paused, simply enjoying his delight for a moment. “Seneca doesn’t have oceanic wildlife?”
He shook his head. “What we call oceans are…well, not like this. Only about forty percent of Seneca is covered in water. It’s a young planet, rich in metals due to the active stellar cluster, but indigenous species are limited and tend to be small. This is amazing.”
Her attention drifted to the view once more. “I’ve always thought so.”
The terrain soon gave way to tundra followed by the coastal forests of the numerous islands dotting the coastline. In minutes the northern edge of Vancouver Island came into sight; beyond it the midday sun reflected brilliantly off the first of the skyscrapers which stretched from North Vancouver to Portland. It was a beautiful fall day in the Pacific Northwest.
She swung to the east, dropped into an airlane and headed down the Strait toward the spaceport. He leaned against the half-wall and draped his arms across his chest. “Nice city you’ve got here.”
“This?” She scoffed with feigned nonchalance. “This is nothing. The Northeastern Seaboard Metropolis stretches for over 1,000 kilometers along the east coast. But it is the largest metropolitan area in settled space, so it would.”
“Uh-huh. You done showing off now?”
“You’ll just have to stick around and find out.” Oops, that might have come out a little differently than she had intended….
His voice became both softer and deeper in tenor. “Okay.” Yep, sure did.
She chose to ignore it while slowing and banking toward the rooftop docking platform.
EACV-7A492X to ORSC: Arrival sequence initiation requested Bay L-19
ORSC to EACV-7A492X: Arrival sequence initiated Bay L-19
ORSC to EACV-7A492X: Arrival clearance window 14 seconds Docking Lane 27
She eased in and lowered the ship to the roof. The clamps grasped the ship with a gentle clang.
The process was all automated for the next few moments as the lift descended to the L level and rotated to her private hangar bay. The force field shimmered as they passed through it, re-solidifying once they were on the other side. A small jolt and the clamps locked into place in the hangar floor.
She shut off the engine and toed around to face him. “Shall we—” A blinking red light flashed in the corner of her eVi; she frowned but accepted the livecomm.
“Alexis, dear, I’m afraid the Defense Minister has arrived and requested a personal briefing. We’ll need to push your meeting until 1430.”
“Oh, for fucks sake, Mom.”
“Now, I—”
“Was there something about ‘urgent’ and ‘vital importance’ and ‘grave threat’ and ‘alien yebanyy superdreadnoughts’ that you didn’t understand?”
“Of course not. But I have many responsibilities which impact the safety and security of the entire Alliance, and we are at war, and some—”
“You mean you have a Very Important Job? I hadn’t noticed.”
“There’s no reason for you to take such a tone with me. I can’t exactly keep the Defense Minister waiting.”
“I’d keep the Defense Minister waiting, if it was important enough. Probably even if it wasn’t.”
“Alexis.”
“Fine. 1430. Don’t postpone it any further.” She cut the link and pursed her lips, grimacing at the effort of not punching the wall or spewing forth a tirade of expletives. She realized Caleb was looking at her expectantly, an eyebrow raised in question. Unsurprisingly, as he would have only heard one side of the conversation.
She glared at him, though not at him. “There’s been a small delay. Let’s get some lunch.”
40
NEW BABEL
Independent Colony
* * *
“Yes, I understand we need a larger production facility. But these things take time to build. Besides, I’m not happy with the chosen location. I don’t enjoy the thought of flying halfway across the planet should I decide to pay a visit.”
Olivia regarded the holos above her desk. “It will be cheaper and faster to simply seize an existing facility for ourselves.”
The man in the left holo frowned. “It would mean bloodshed to do so….”
“Obviously it would mean bloodshed—inevitably everything always means bloodshed, it’s merely a question of timing. If this war generates the level of chaos I expect it to, we need to position ourselves quickly. Hence, bloodshed now rather than bloodshed later.”
Her nod foreclosed any further discussion. “It’s decided. John, I need a list of the top four candidates in two hours. I’ll arrange a team and the post-op additional security. That’s all for now.”
Not waiting for their sign off, she gestured away the holos, stood and stretched. She needed—
Her eVi indicated a priority incoming message. It was encrypted and coded, but Marcus wanted to speak, now if possible.
She scowled at nothing in particular. She didn’t care to create an impression with him that she was at his beck and call, lest it set a dangerous precedent. On the other hand, events were moving rapidly and significant wealth was at stake. With a roll of her eyes she went over to the QEC room.
She had met Marcus almost fifty years earlier—though that hadn’t been his name at the time—when she ran Zelones operations in South America. He had risen to the top of an upstart gang on the streets of Rio, one which had begun to impinge upon clearly demarcated Zelones interests. After a series of escalating threats did nothing to stop the encroachments, she had sent a squad of her best enforcers to wipe them out.
Marc
us and his lieutenants killed the entire squad. He sent her a message to let her know of this—despite the fact he shouldn’t possess her contact information. He then proceeded to come to her headquarters, kill, incapacitate or evade the entire building’s security detail and her personal guards, and stroll into her office.
For one of the few times in her life, she had been genuinely surprised when he walked in. He couldn’t have been more than fifteen years old, scrawny and gangly in secondhand threads. But the sharp, dynamic sea-green irises regarding her shone bright with intelligence, cunning and most of all confidence.
Her personal weaponry had not been so advanced then as it was now, but she pointed a quite lethal customized Daemon at him while she calmly inquired what she could do for him.
“I want out.”
“Done. You’ve proven your point. Walk out the door, and no one will stop you. Keep walking, and no one will come after you. You have my word.”
“You misunderstand, Ms. Montegreu. I want a new life—a new identity and a new background, one which is gold-plated and foolproof. I want fifty thousand credits and a ticket to Miami and your vow you will never speak a word of this conversation to another soul.”
She arched an eyebrow and rested against the front of her desk, though the gun remained in her hand. “And why ever should I agree to do such favors for you?”
A smile crept across his face, more chilling than any she had seen on the cruelest, most malicious killers. A shiver ran down her spine…but at least now she knew what she was negotiating with.
“Because then I will be in your debt. And at some time in the future, I expect that will be worth a great deal.”
She had conceded to the transaction, arranged everything he had asked for and not seen a trace of him for more than thirty years. Then one day his face showed up on the news feed. It seemed he was being named the youngest ever Deputy Minister of the Justice Department for the North American Region.
She wouldn’t have recognized him, so transformed was his appearance, but for the memorable sea-green eyes—and the name she had given him.
Starshine by G. S. Jennsen Page 29