Vertigo: Aurora Rising Book Two

by Jennsen, G. S.

  “Yep. It was a little harder, but whoever altered the records didn’t do a thorough scrub of the underlying data first. Portions of it were corrupted but I pieced it together. Is this crap going on all the time inside the military? I mean, are you going to show up tomorrow asking me to find shenanigans on the Orbital explosion? Because I never wanted to believe the claims of those wacko anarchists, but there is some nasty corruption involved here.”

  Richard pondered how truthfully to answer the question. If they try to pin the Orbital on Marano and Alex, yes. “If this type of malevolence were standard operating procedure, I’d join the anarchists with you. I have no reason to believe anything nefarious occurred with respect to the Orbital explosion. Beyond the act itself, obviously.”

  Devon accepted the sideways answer. “So what do you want me to do with this?”

  “For one, burn me a hard disk copy. You weren’t able to pinpoint the source?”

  “That’s the downside to the use of standard Alliance protocols. I can tell you it was done remotely—not from the Island—but at a node in the Alliance military infrastructure. And that’s it, I’m afraid.”

  “Understood.” Too late to go back now. “You have friends who are hackers, right?”

  “I’m shocked you would suggest such a thing….” Devon straightened up in his chair and had the decency to feign chagrin. “Uh, yes, sir. I might know a few.”

  “Can you trust them?”

  “To do what?”

  “To not rat us out to the authorities.”

  “Oh. Yeah. Totally.”

  Richard felt a tiny twinge of guilt and not for the first time. But in the intelligence business one’s allies were not always the cleanest members of society. It was a necessity of the trade.

  He leaned in closer though the room was shielded. “Here’s what I need you to do.”

  SEATTLE

  * * *

  Devon hit the entrance to their apartment at a jog. “Hey, babe, you here?”

  Not getting a response, he tossed his bag on the counter on the way to her studio room. Nine times out of eight it was where he found her.

  The translucent door slid open to reveal Emily standing in the dark. Gleaming colored swaths of light encircled her. Earpieces suggested she had the music on and explained why she hadn’t heard him. Virtual gloves adorned both hands.

  Her right hand extended and a stream of fuchsia light flowed out of a fingertip of the glove. Her hand gracefully swirled and dipped, leaving an intricate design in its wake.

  He snuck up behind her, carefully removing the earpiece from one ear and purring into it. “Hey, babe.”

  She jumped in surprise, sending fuchsia light careening through the room, but he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and squeezed her in his arms.

  “Devon, don’t scare me like that!”

  “Sure, sure.” He loosened his grip and spun her to face him. “Come on, we gotta go see the gang.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I’m working.”

  He rested the tip of his nose on hers. “Please? I don’t want to go alone….”

  She stared at him for several seconds before rolling her eyes and sinking into his arms. “Can I at least change first?”

  “You’re gorgeous in a painter’s smock.”

  Her grousing against him was simply adorable, but he shouldn’t push it. “Yes, you can change first.”

  The gang was, in reality, merely a group of friends he’d known since university. They had engaged in some truly extreme stunts during school and still liked to think they were the best and most outrageous hackers north of Angeles. While a few had joined him in acquiring respectable and even impressive jobs, most couldn’t accept the rigidity and rules which accompanied such employment and still lived on the edges of mainstream society.

  They met, as they had regularly for the last several years, in a large oval booth in the back of Kellan’s Pier Pub. Sayid had a pitcher of beer waiting by the time he and Emily arrived, and they eased into the booth as though it was a second home. Which it kind of was.

  “Hey, Devon, why’d you change out of your officer’s uniform? I bet you look so sweet and cuddly in brass buttons and shiny shoes.”

  “Yeah, screw you, man.” But he was laughing as he poured a drink.

  They spouted the usual small talk until the others arrived. The reality was his current job drastically limited the potential topics of conversation, but the pub buzzed with banter and music and sports on the screens to fill the void.

  After everyone settled in, another pitcher was delivered and the waiter had departed, he activated a privacy shield. Not only did it prevent anyone from overhearing them, it also muffled the crowd noise to a low background level.

  “So, you guys want to have a little fun?”

  “What? This isn’t fun?”

  He shot a smirk at Ramon. Sarcasm rolled off Ramon’s tongue like it had somewhere it needed to be.

  Petra emptied a shot of tequila into her mug. “Money?”

  “Does it involve nudity?”

  Devon snorted as Emily launched a volley of peanuts across the table at Mycroft. “No it does not involve nudity, though if you prefer to lounge at your deck with your package swinging free, I won’t judge. No money, either. Now can we be serious for two seconds? I realize it’s a challenge on the order of scaling Kilimanjaro without gear, but can we try?”

  He ignored two separate obscene gestures directed at him and reached in the pouch at his waist to remove six small optical disks. He spread the disks discreetly in front of him, then passed them out until everyone had one. “Everything is ready on the disks, so you don’t need to manipulate the data.”

  “What fun is that?”

  “I’m getting to the fun. We’re going to leak the information on those disks to every major news organization in the galaxy, regardless of affiliation. In fact, the more affiliations the better.”

  Indications of varying interest followed. Ramon refilled his mug. “No problem, but still waiting on the fun part.”

  “I told you, I’m getting there. We need to spoof the source so it appears to originate from eight separate locations, none of which are in the Cascades and most of which aren’t on Earth. We need to include a few independent colonies, too.”

  Petra whistled. “Now you’re talking. One question though—what’s on the disks?”

  He took a sip of beer and gazed around the table. “Ready for this? Evidence someone inside the Alliance government or military falsified multiple official records in order to frame that Senecan spy for the EASC Headquarters bombing.”

  “Dude. Who found the evidence?”

  “Excuse me, is there any doubt?”

  Mycroft made a show of being unimpressed. “Somebody’s all high on his horse. Listen, I’m not exactly a fan of Seneca….”

  Sayid, who had been quiet up until now per his usual, jumped in. “Me either, but I’m about a gazillion times less of a fan of our military. I’m in.”

  “Damn straight. I’m in, too.” Petra’s copper and citron glyphs lit up in a visual demonstration of her enthusiasm.

  “Wait—does this mean our government blew up its own Prime Minister? I totally bet they did.”

  “Hell if I know, Sayid. The Orbital explosion happened all of thirty seconds ago. Is everyone in? Speak now or get your ass kicked later.” Devon observed each of them in turn, making certain he received agreement from those in attendance.

  Ramon tossed his disk in the air, palmed it and dropped it in a pocket. “When does it need to go out?”

  “First thing tomorrow morning, as close to simultaneously as you miscreants can manage.”

  Ramon slammed his mug down on the table for theatrical effect. “What are we sitting around here drinking beer for? Let’s go fuck up this war.”

  23

  ROMANE

  INDEPENDENT COLONY

  * * *

  MIA STRODE ACROSS THE LENGTH of her living room. Reversed course. Her
sharp pivots at the windows and the archway hinted at violence, as if the force of the movement might trigger a new option on the next traversal.

  She wanted to run. The desperate, scrappy child within screamed in her head to run just as she had twice before. Running to Romane so many years ago had worked out, hadn’t it? She could run again. Start over again. Find a new home.

  But this was her home. She had built a life here, to a far greater extent than she had ever imagined possible. She was not an abused slum kid beholden to her criminal father and thug brother on New Orient. Nor was she a starving thief on Pandora. Not anymore.

  She was Mia Requelme—a successful, wealthy businesswoman. She had crafted and nurtured a sterling reputation, not to mention assets, employees, professional colleagues and friends. She had risen above a troubled past and rotten start at life to build a new one. One she proudly called her own.

  This was her home and she would not run again.

  There was still the unfortunate reality her home was likely to come under attack by an alien armada within weeks, if not days. It was a problem.

  But if she wasn’t going to run, she also wasn’t going to stand frozen in panic and end up a helpless victim. If she wasn’t going to run, she needed to help.

  The pacing slowed to a stop with a ponderous sigh; in a metaphysical sense it carried on it her acceptance of the consequences of her actions moving forward.

  She pulsed Jonathan. As a loyal employee who was barely more than a kid, she felt like he was her responsibility.

  Listen. You need to leave. Go visit your family on Demeter.

  What? Why? Is something wrong?

  I can’t go into the details. Please, for your safety, get off Romane for a while. Go west—the farther west the better. And maybe take your girlfriend along.

  Mia…but what about the gallery? You can’t—

  It’s not a problem. You have paid vacation time remaining. Take it, Jonathan. For me.

  I…okay. I don’t understand, but okay.

  Next she went upstairs and packed an emergency bag. She needed to be prepared for anything. Then she changed from the yoga pants and tank into a charcoal pantsuit and wound her hair back into a sleek ponytail at the nape of her neck. Lastly she went to the safe in her office and removed the disk Caleb had left her.

  “Meno, I’m heading out for a few hours. Message me if you discover new data matching the parameters.”

  She couldn’t exactly wear the interface out in public and it was too warm for a turtleneck, so she’d lack a mental connection with the Artificial. But she had granted it the ability to send and receive messages from and to her. It would have to do for now.

  Certainly, Mia. I will exercise discretion.

  She waited fifteen minutes to be seen, which was far less time than expected. When shown into what was an objectively spectacular office she shook the governor’s hand warmly. “Governor Ledesme, thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice. I realize your time is extremely valuable as well as limited.”

  “It came with the job description, I believe. What can I do for you, Ms. Requelme?”

  “I’m afraid I’m here to make your life far more complicated, ma’am.”

  Madison Ledesme regarded her with detached curiosity. They weren’t friends, of course. The governor knew her because of her service on several business councils, and because the spaceport was a significant enough interest for the typically hands-off government to ensure it ran smoothly and cleanly. They had spoken half a dozen times but never in private.

  “Given my planet is caught between two warring superpowers while its economy is being crushed beneath the weight of a blockade, I find it somewhat difficult to believe you can accomplish such a feat.”

  “As would I. Nevertheless. There’s something you need to know: the colonies of Gaiae, Zetian, Andromeda, Gaelach, New Riga, Lycaon, Karelia, New Orient, Edero…and now Messium have gone dark.”

  “What does that mean? What are you telling me?”

  “It means no transmissions from those locations are registering on the exanet. It means any communications to persons or places on or in the space above those locations are undeliverable.”

  “How do you know?”

  Mia almost cringed, but years of experience enabled her to squelch it. “I can’t reveal my sources. I’m sorry.”

  Ledesme considered the response. “I’ll overlook that for the moment. A widespread exanet disruption of such magnitude in eastern space? The scientists tell us it’s impossible.”

  “And it should be. Regardless, I also know the cause and you are not going to like it.”

  The governor chuckled. It pealed surprisingly warmly given the stress she must be feeling. Mia had always found her naturally personable, if always professional. “Don’t drag this out, Ms. Requelme. I have a meeting with the Utility Director and a lunch with several of your unhappy business colleagues half an hour later, both of which are bound to be unpleasant.”

  Mia’s eyes dipped to contemplate the onyx and pearl marbled floor. It was going to sound ridiculous coming out of her mouth, so it was a good thing she had proof. “Aliens. An invading alien armada of mammoth size and power, in fact.”

  A politician’s mask descended over the woman’s face. “I don’t have to time to entertain irrational ramblings or—”

  Mia opened her hand, palm up. The disk rested upon it. It had been provided to her in confidence, but Caleb was gone and humanity was under attack. “Governor, please take one minute to examine the contents of this disk. You will see I am in no way crazy or irrational.”

  The look in the governor’s eyes suggested the line between Mia getting thrown out of the office and the woman reviewing the data was a thin one indeed. Mia couldn’t say what finally tipped the scales. The instincts of a skilled politician, perhaps.

  The governor took the disk from her and went to her desk to drop it in a reader. Mia stood too far away to read the information displaying on a small screen at the desk, but she didn’t need to read it. She had reviewed the contents countless times, to the point she now enjoyed nightmares starring the images. Instead she waited.

  Three minutes later Ledesme tapped the control panel on her desk. “Hannah, cancel my appointments for the rest of the day. I realize that. Cancel them.” She stood, leaving a stark visual of an alien superdreadnought on the screen.

  “Who else has seen this? If we were to get this information to the Alliance and Federation governments, they would end this absurd war and—”

  “They are already aware of the threat. They have been for more than two weeks.”

  “And yet they continue to shoot at one another? Imbeciles!” Her composure broke for only a breath, revealing a person appalled at the failings of her fellow humans and frustrated at how those failings made her job so very difficult.

  Then the brief reveal vanished behind a stoic countenance. “How exactly is it you have come by such information when no one in my government has discovered it?”

  “I know the people who recorded the data. They entrusted me with the disk, in case—well, in case the other governments didn’t get their act together in time.”

  “These people would be…?”

  No sense hiding it now. The names were sure to be familiar to her, because they were now familiar to the entire galaxy. “Caleb Marano and Alexis Solovy. I helped them elude the authorities and escape after the accusations against them surfaced, because they are innocent of the bombing and their lives were in danger.”

  Ledesme pondered her silently for several seconds, her thoughts her own behind shuttered eyes. “You are a most interesting woman, Ms. Requelme. I think I’d like to discover more about what lies beneath your public façade. But that’s for another time.” She stared out the window, and Mia chose not to respond to the remark or otherwise interrupt her reverie.

  “So the Alliance and the Federation continue to fight a war despite being aware of an imminent alien invasion and try to imprison the
people who warned them of it. Yet people wonder why Romane is so fiercely independent.” She turned back to Mia, her face now animated by resolve. “How long ago did Messium go offline?”

  “Approximately six hours ago.”

  “I no longer want to know how you’re obtaining your information. The other colonies are tiny but an attack on Messium will upend the entire galaxy. Still, we can’t wait for that to happen. I don’t suppose your friends or whatever other mysterious sources you enjoy have any ideas on how to defend against these aliens?”

  “My sources are working on it. But no, not as of yet. I was thinking about the problem, however. Romane has some exceedingly brilliant scientific and engineering minds as citizens, as well as some exceedingly wealthy ones—arguably the largest concentration of both outside of Earth. Bring them in. Give them this data and lock them in a room. Figuratively speaking.

  “If there are ideas to be generated, our engineers are the mostly likely to do it. Use the ideas from the engineers and the money from the entrepreneurs to strengthen our defenses as much as practicable and put the arrays on alert. Plus you might want to begin considering an evacuation.”

  “Tell the public? It will cause a panic that will cause loss of life.”

  Mia nodded. “Probably so. But you’re right. Messium will change everything. The Alliance won’t be able to keep whatever is happening there a secret, so I suspect we’ll be facing a panic within the next eight hours in any event. Wouldn’t it be better to break the news ourselves and take advantage of the opportunity to assert authority and lead?”

  “You’d make a decent politician, Ms. Requelme. I concur.” The governor took a deep breath. “I need to get the aforementioned geniuses and business magnates in here first, lest they bolt at the news. I’ll also alert our security force and give them time to prepare. Then I’ll contact the media.”