Help them, Eren, and watch the universe turn your way.
Miaon’s words had haunted him of late. Part of him resented the shadowy Yinhe and its Kat friends for long having been playing a far grander game without letting the anarchs in on the fun. Another part refused to believe he could in any way be at the center of such a game. How could he be, a quiet voice whispered, when he hardly deserved to be alive?
Yet another part of him believed the notion he might be at the center nonetheless was absolutely fan-fucking-tastic.
His thoughts drifted off while he stood in the middle of the hallway, a whimsical expression on his face as visions of stabbing the Idoni Primor through an eyeball danced through his mind—
—a vicious kick landed square on his shin, sending pain splintering up through his knee. He yelped and grabbed for his leg. “Ow!”
Cosime followed up the kick with a punch to his shoulder then a shove into the wall. “You ass. You self-righteous, conceited, show-off ass!”
Eren raised his hands in surrender, then grasped her wrist to hold off the next swing—gently, as he didn’t want to hurt her, even if she apparently didn’t share the same sentiment toward him. “What the Hades, Cosime? Calm yourself. And stop hitting me.”
“Fine, but you deserve it.”
He sighed and slouched into the wall. “Why? Why do I deserve to get beat up?”
She adopted a defensive pose against the opposite wall. “You ditch me to buddy up with a bunch of mysterious aliens, and you don’t tell me about them, even when I specifically ask you what you’re caught up in. You and your new best pals set fire to the world then get lauded as heroes, and now you’re hanging with the big guy at Satus like you’re Zeus’ newest favored plaything. Why did you even bother to come back here? To pick up a few trinkets you left in a locker and steal the good hypnols from the lounge?”
He rubbed at his shoulder; for a waif, she packed quite a punch. “No, what, and I’m sorry. I didn’t think events were going to play out how they did, until they did.”
“Bullshite.”
“Come on, Cosime. You know me. I go looking for trouble, and it’s all too happy to find me. This time the trouble turned out to be something way bigger and more important than usual, but I never saw it coming. Also, this is my third body in three weeks, so trust me when I say it wasn’t all fun and frivolity.”
“Serves you right. Why did you come back here?”
“Is ‘to find you’ a remotely viable answer?”
“You are so full of it, Eren.” She tried to bury a smile, which was when he realized she was sporting a nasty bruise on her left cheekbone. What manner of trouble had she gotten into? Before he figured out how to ask without getting yelled at for it, she was talking again. “Will you introduce me to your new friends?”
“Sure. Next time I see them, I’ll make it happen. Though you should consider sticking close to me, since I don’t always get a lot of advance warning on these things. Especially when their Kat can spirit people in and out of just about anywhere in the universe and doesn’t have the manners to comm ahead first.”
He smiled carefully and motioned toward the cafeteria. “Help me find some food? As a start?”
“Only because I’m hungry, too.” She fell in beside him as they made their way down the hall. “So what are they like? I heard they were Anaden rejects or something.”
“That’s probably not the best way to think of them. They look like us, but…they’re not really like us. They’re different.”
“Wow. You sure know how to clear up any confusion there.”
“Smartass. You’ll understand when you meet them.” He paused. “Speaking of smartasses, I saw Felzeor the other day. He said you needed to come visit him on Serifos. He fancies you so much more than he does me.”
“Of course he does. He has taste and keen, discerning judgment.”
Eren wanted to scowl in offense, but he found he couldn’t quibble on any particular point.
5
PRÓTOS AGORA
MILKY WAY GALACTIC CORE
* * *
THE COLLECTIVE AGITATION BARELY CONTAINED within the walls of the Prótos Agora was pegged at a higher level than Praesidis had seen in a hundred thousand years.
The Primors had forgotten what defeat felt like—forgotten what even the smallest successful challenge from a defiant adversary looked like.
Because the Praesidis Dynasty’s purview in normal circumstances was the anomalies, the outliers and the odd recalcitrant upstarts, he was somewhat less of a stranger than the others to the concept that someone might refuse to obey. This was not to say he viewed them as less of a concern.
On the contrary, he and his progeny’s experience with troublemakers led him to view the emergence of a large number of heavily armed foreign invaders as doubly alarming. But here, he kept any unease to himself.
“Another fleet fabrication center, simply gone?”
Machim glowered at Theriz, as soldiers did. “In the absence of the force field shielding the facility, its automated defenses were not capable of repelling an attack of this scale. They were never designed for it.”
Theriz continued to push. “And what happened to the force field to induce its ‘absence’?”
“The generators powering it were destroyed at the start of the attack.”
Praesidis raised an eyebrow in mild interest at this news. “The implication being that a ship infiltrated the facility and was able to fire on the generators from the inside, since by definition weaponry could not reach them from the outside of the force field.”
Machim’s hardened countenance never wavered. “Yes. That is the implication.”
Idoni gasped with exaggerated dramatism. “You have traitors in your progeny, Machim.”
“No. Impossible.”
Praesidis was tempted to let the squabbling continue for another few rounds. He enjoyed watching Machim feel the heat, particularly when it came courtesy of Savine—he hadn’t called her that for six hundred millennia, but in the sanctity of his mind he still thought of her by her first name—and her savage tongue.
But this wasn’t the time to indulge petty amusements, nor was it the time to allow them to puzzle out the events at what was turning out to be an agonizing pace. “The likeliest scenario is that a Katasketousya smuggled someone, doubtless either an anarch or a Human, past the force field and inside. Once there, they hacked the security system and obtained stored credentials, which were used to get through security.”
Her thunder stolen, Savine sulked. “Oh.”
Kyvern frowned primly, providing a stark contrast to Idoni. “The Katasketousya involvement in this insurgency does bring with it certain complications.”
“Such as their ability to infiltrate any and every location in the universe unless it’s encased in diati? Yes, it does. Erevna, we need a way to detect the presence of a Katasketousya in or near a structure.”
“You mean other than sight?”
His eyes flared with crimson tendrils before he could rein the power in. “I mean Vigil needs to get its act together and implement additional security measures in response to the threat. Now, I recognize this is partly my responsibility, but I need something from you I can work with.”
“New security measures won’t be how we solve this problem. We are under attack.” Machim viewed everything through the lens of warfare, but in this case Praesidis had to concede he was correct.
Diaplas scoffed, however. “By primitives. Cavemen.”
Machim finally displayed a scintilla of emotion, the emotion being offense. “I’ve studied in great detail the recordings and memories from my people who were present at the Provision Network Gateway battle. The enemy may be primitive, but their ships are not. Their hulls are all but impenetrable. Their stealth cloaking shields render them undetectable by conventional means, and in many instances they sport defensive shields that completely protect the ships from all forms of direct attack. Their standard weaponry is f
ormidable but defeatable, yet they also employ a number of exotic weapons.
“If they themselves are primitives, I’m forced to ask who is devising and implementing all this advanced technology, as well as who is directing their variety of unpredictable battle tactics. This is, of course, all before we get to the Katasketousya warships assisting them in their efforts. Did anyone here expect the Katasketousya to have warships?”
Machim was defensive, and understandably so, having thus far borne the overwhelming brunt of the…Praesidis had no proper word for the recent developments. This was not an uprising or even a rebellion, as the driving force was external. An invasion? Absurd.
Theriz cleared his throat. “It doesn’t matter what we expected, for the reality is they do. Which brings us to the matter of the imports from the Provision Network. The communiqué from this ‘Lakhes,’ who claims to speak on their behalf, indicates they are willing to continue to provide foodstuffs and other supplies necessary to service the civilian population.”
Erevna instantly bristled. “The Katasketousya are under an Eradication Order. We cannot allow their vessels to openly dock at our facilities. It would completely undermine our authority.”
“And letting the citizens starve will not?”
Must he think of everything? Praesidis sighed quietly. “Have the vessels dock not openly, but instead at more covert facilities, where they will not be noticed.”
“Then kill the operators?”
Erevna’s bloodlust had always been impressive, and it wasn’t always limited to the lab. But again, now wasn’t the time for indulgences. “Firstly, how? Secondly, the vessels are operated by shackled synthetic intelligences, not Katasketousya.”
“They flaunt one of our most fundamental edicts so brazenly? Disgusting.”
Praesidis tried once more. “The point is, there are no Katasketousya to be found on board. But the vessels can still lead us to them. I’ll see to it that trackers are placed discreetly on several of the provision vessels when they dock. We’ll use them to find additional entrances to their hidden Network. Then we will infiltrate it and destroy the Humans’ realm and the Katasketousya’s haven. Then we will hunt down the remnants of the Humans here in Amaranthe and wipe them out.”
“How? Tracking the movements of the Katasketousya within Amaranthe isn’t quite so easy as sticking a tracking dot on one.” Theriz glanced at Erevna. “Apparently.”
“No, it isn’t. But the anarchs are helping them, and with sufficient resources applied to the problem they can be tracked. We’ll hunt down the resistance, and through them we will find and Eradicate the last of the Humans.”
PART II:
THE DOPPLER EFFECT
“We have an unknown distance yet to run,
an unknown river to explore.”
— John Wesley Powell
6
AURORA
ROMANE
IDCC COLONY
* * *
“YES, IT’S TRUE THE HEAD OF OUR RRF division is currently on assignment with AEGIS and isn’t available to oversee new training programs at this time. But she’s groomed several of her top personnel to stand in for her when the need arises. We’ve institutionalized our processes and requirements, so they know exactly what to do. I assure you, Governor, if you’re ready to establish a local RRF team on Atlantis, we’re ready to help you do it.”
Mia Requelme let the Atlantis governor ramble on about the unique needs of his colony that justified special attention from important people while she stared out the window at the hustle and bustle of the city.
Atlantis was still recovering from Montegreu’s power play there and its messy aftermath, but it had the funds and other resources necessary to pick itself up and dust itself off. What the colony lacked in strategic know-how, the IDCC was happy to provide…she grumbled under her breath. Even if it included indulging the egos of politicians. Within reason.
She understood how the governor could feel as if he were scrambling to chase the caboose of an accelerating train, but his request wasn’t an emergency. For the first time in more than a year, there was space for everyone to breathe. The galaxy was at peace. Its empires’ governments were at peace.
Though it was possible no one would notice if they weren’t, for sometime over the previous few months, the course of human events had been ceded to the Prevos and all they might fashion. To the Artificials, the Melanges and their visions made manifest.
Perhaps she should say ‘our’ visions, for she and Meno were certainly doing their part. But in truth, the Noetica Prevos had become little more than an honorary footnote in the history of a Noesis that remade itself over again on an almost daily basis. It was constantly growing and changing, and no one person could hope to keep up. Well, maybe Devon could.
The governor fell silent on a question, and she refocused her attention to the conversation. “I understand, Governor. I’ll have the RRF chief deputy come to Atlantis later this week. He can review Atlantis’ unique needs and work with you to develop an implementation plan. Does this work for you?”
You should turn around.
What, Meno? But she was already instinctively obeying the suggestion, spinning from the window toward the open door.
Malcolm Jenner stood in the entryway, wearing crisp BDUs and a tentative hint of a smile.
A flood of endorphins rushed from her brain down through her chest and back again, rendering her lightheaded and filling her ears with a ringing loud enough to drown out the Atlantis governor. Wide-eyed and candidly stunned, she mumbled something about details following via secure message and disconnected.
A single ship had returned from Amaranthe days earlier. It had requested reinforcements and relayed a series of orders so classified even she’d been unable to access the ones not directed at the IDCC leadership. The captain of the ship had shared more broadly the news that the day had been won and the apocalypse averted, or at least postponed.
The victory hadn’t been without cost, but it was far smaller than they had any right to expect to pay. Lives had been lost, but if any of the flag officers were among them the reports would have said, wouldn’t they? If Malcolm had been one of them, she’d had to believe they would have said.
So she’d buried too-turbulent emotions beneath all her best façades and concentrated on doing her job—on functioning instead of pining, on living instead of waiting.
But now he was here. Alive, in one piece and looking vaguely terrified as he waited for her to say something and the seconds in which she didn’t stretched out.
She blinked, breathed in and crossed the distance to him, bringing both hands up to cup his face. “You are a most welcome sight.”
The halting rise at the edges of his mouth widened into the fullness of a real smile as he relaxed. He wound strong, steady arms around her waist. “Good. I mean I’m glad. I wasn’t sure—”
Her lips cut him off in a gambit to erase any doubts—his and hers. But he still felt like home, and this felt more right than she knew how to process, catalog or rationalize.
A different sort of tension soon grew in his bearing as he tightened his hold on her. One hand drifted to her hip and the other increasingly tangled in her hair.
She commanded the door to shut behind him, then sent a few directives and drew back a fraction. “I just canceled my next two appointments, and the door is now locked.”
His Adam’s Apple bobbed. “How locked?”
She merely laughed as she tugged the hem of his shirt out of his waistband, up and over his head.
Overlapping rays from Romane’s dual suns warmed Mia’s bare skin through the reverse-filtered windows. She curled up in Malcolm’s lap on the office couch, which was where they’d ended up…eventually.
In the peacefulness of afterglow she studied his shoulders, his chest and more fragile areas like the curve of his neck, but she saw no telltale signs of new injuries, not so much as a bruise. It meant he’d managed to avoid or been unable to find close-quarters
combat in his time through the portal. It relieved her, but the recognition brought with it a dose of reality to dampen the bliss.
As he brushed damp hair out of her face, she stared at him pensively. “Why are you here?”
“To tell you I love you.” His cheeks immediately flushed beyond their already ruddy state, and he looked away. “That, um, wasn’t actually what I opened my mouth intending to say….”
And she thought she’d run the gamut of tumultuous emotions for the day. He cast such a curious and endearing contradiction—so confident and self-possessed when it came to physical intimacy, yet hesitant bordering on timid when it came to affairs of the heart. She supposed in many ways she wasn’t so different; she simply hid the emotional insecurity beneath a veneer of cool detachment.
She lifted his chin with the tip of a finger. “Is it true?”
His eyes gradually rose to meet her inquiring gaze, and the adorably tentative almost-smile returned. His chest pressed against hers as he drew in a deep breath. “Completely.”
She relaxed and touched her nose to his. “After you left, I tried to convince myself I hadn’t fallen for you, so if you didn’t come back, it might be easier to handle.”
“But I did come back.”
“And I did fall for you.”
“Oh….” The kiss he pulled her into then was fierce enough to rival any of the last hour, and she lost herself again, for a time.
But finally she forced herself to create some space between them once more. Her third appointment loomed in the near future; she’d need to either get dressed or cancel it soon.
Instead she rested her head on his shoulder. “So why are you here?”
Rubicon: Aurora Resonant Book Two (Aurora Rhapsody 8) Page 5