Rubicon: Aurora Resonant Book Two (Aurora Rhapsody 8)

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by G. S. Jennsen


  Their voices began to rise once more, and still Praesidis did not speak. They would turn to him soon enough on their own initiative; in the absence of easy answers they would look to him to assuage their concerns. Yet he had no way to do so.

  In point of fact, they were all in far greater danger than they realized, and he dared not tell them why.

  Machim droned on about the enemy’s weapons and unpredictable tactics, but the battles were a distraction—one the enemy was using to draw their attention while it honed a far more dangerous weapon. The man Nyx had twice run up against was a new manner of threat, yet reminiscent of a very old one.

  Time, so much time, had dulled Praesidis’ killer instinct, and in his gut he worried he did not know how to meet this threat. In his gut he worried he was incapable of doing so.

  “Praesidis? Are you here?”

  He restrained an instinctive jerk and allowed his gaze to find Theriz in the circle. “I’m sorry?”

  “I asked about the status of Vigil’s anarch crackdown.”

  “Ah, yes. The new security measures have severely constrained their ability to move and act. Their safe havens are now denied them.” It was a weasely answer, but the truth was worse.

  The dragnet had resulted in the capture of a few anarch agents here and there, all of whom had committed suicide or fried their brains before proper interrogations could even commence. Yes, they’d flushed out those agents who were undercover, but as it stood now, they were likely to be replaced soon enough.

  “Except for their actual bases. Those have not been denied them, have they?”

  The inborn need to save face with the others nearly led him to reveal the news of the tracker Nyx had placed on the Human vessel at Exobiology Lab #4. The signal had evaporated in interstellar space in MW Sector 59. Three stellar systems in the vicinity were currently being investigated, but investigated cautiously and quietly. In the wake of Machim’s multiple humiliations that had resulted from blindly following the trackers placed on Katasketousya vessels, he did not intend to leap without looking.

  Once they located the base or the fleet to which the vessel had returned, surveillance would be conducted and facts confirmed before forces were sent to destroy it. He would be certain, then he would act.

  For now he focused on projecting the calm confidence he should but could not feel. “You know we have not located their bases. But we will. We have the anarchs on the run and under tremendous pressure. We will break them, and they will lead us to the Humans and the Katasketousya.”

  53

  SIYANE

  PALAEMON

  ANARCH POST EPSILON

  * * *

  TOMORROW WAS TOO SOON. She wasn’t ready for tomorrow.

  ‘Alex, I have been analyzing the waves we observed traveling to and from the Reor slab while inside the wormhole.’

  “What? I’m sorry, I was…you’ve uncovered something?”

  ‘Several things. Each light stream we observed was in actuality a tightly packed set of a number of individual waves oscillating at various frequencies. The differing visible hues you perceived were the result of a preponderance of the frequencies at times falling within a spectral range associated with a definable color.’

  Her mind lingered on other thoughts, and it took her a second to absorb what Valkyrie was saying. “But the frequencies ranged beyond the visible light spectrum?”

  ‘Yes. The waves I measured ranged from near ultraviolet to extremely low frequencies. In other words, they appear to span the non-ionizing radiation spectrum.’

  “So their transmission doesn’t affect the space around them. How very…premeditated of the Reor.”

  ‘One might assert it is the kind of deliberate choice only a sentient being could make.’

  “One might. Okay, what else?”

  ‘None of the waves originated from your Reor slab. The waves we observed originated elsewhere and flowed through your slab and the filaments located within it and exited to continue on.’

  “We put my slab in one of the Anadens’ readers, and it said there was nothing stored on it. So it makes sense none originated from it…” she stopped cold “…because the waves are data. They’re sharing the fucking data!”

  ‘It is a reasonable deduction to make from the evidence on hand.’

  She took the slab out of her pocket and stared at it, for at least the hundredth time. It looked unchanged by its experience in the wormhole—because it hadn’t been a singular experience.

  What she’d seen was in fact happening right now, and had been happening since she’d acquired the slab. She’d merely pulled back the dimensional curtain and glimpsed what she suspected constituted a persistent state for the Reor. “So these waves. They’re not uniformly distributed across the non-ionizing spectrum?”

  ‘No. They exhibited distinct patterns. However, I have been unable to locate a matching algorithm that replicates the patterns of the individual frequencies.’

  If they weren’t automatically generated by a mathematical calculation, then what? “Do you think the Reor speak some kind of frequency-based language?”

  ‘It is possible. But more likely the frequency is some type of marker related to the data or its storage. Perhaps the frequency conveys the amount of data stored together, or even the size of the Reor slab it’s stored on. Or perhaps it’s an aspect of the encryption used.’

  “Hmm. Eren did say the slabs’ encryption capabilities was one of the main reasons they were used for storage. The user has to have the encryption key to read the data.” She frowned. “But then why are the Reor sharing it with each other? Why is the data traveling across these dimensions? Any given piece of data is useless without the encryption key for it, so nothing can be done with it.”

  ‘It could be a natural aspect of the Reor’s existence. Though the data travels, it remains in a constant state of superposition, to analogize.’

  Natural aspect or not, it seemed a damn lot like all the data stored on a Reor slab anywhere in the Directorate’s domain was constantly flowing through nonspatial dimensions. Encrypted, but flowing.

  She could access nonspatial dimensions.

  Once upon a time she’d called herself a hacker. It had never grown beyond a hobby—and expression of rebellion—but that didn’t mean she hadn’t been good at it. Similar to many tools of human conflict, including weapons and defenses to them, methods of encryption and the circumvention of them had been locked in a game of perpetual one-upmanship for hundreds of years. With the advent of quantum computing came insanely complex encryption techniques, but so too came the computers powerful enough to break them. In her experience, there was no such thing as unbreakable encryption—it was simply a question of resources.

  Given that the encryption ‘tool’ was an ancient, sentient inorganic life form existing in a multitude of dimensions, admittedly, the resources required might be greater than she could corral.

  She twirled the small slab between her fingers. Why had the Reor gifted it to her? At the time, it had felt like a gesture of goodwill…and maybe that was all it was. But what if it was something more?

  No answers rushed to greet her, and as she lost the thread of thought her mind inevitably drifted back to where it had started.

  Tomorrow.

  She wasn’t ready for tomorrow. She also had to make it through the rest of today, first.

  54

  AFS SARATOGA

  MILKY WAY SECTOR 17

  * * *

  A PARSEC FROM PALAEMON, in the void between two stars and far from anything that might serve as fodder for collateral damage, the golden glow of the Caeles Prism shone bright against the surrounding void.

  The last arrivals from the fleet checked in, and the orb expanded in a torrent of plasma and sparking bolts of electricity as it prepared to slingshot the fleet across the galaxy in the blink of an eye.

  Though Malcolm lacked the skills to fathom it, within the Prism dimensions were opening and closing and opening again,
creating energy—power—out of the motion of tiny particles trapped inside.

  Beyond his understanding, this wonder the Noetica Prevos had created. Mia and Alex and the others, and their Artificials, in a matter of days. No, hours; the days had been for testing and component installation.

  He chuckled quietly. He honestly did have a ‘type,’ didn’t he?

  Major Ettore turned to Malcolm. “Power conduit is open and…connection established.”

  “Thank you, Major,” Malcolm responded absently, his mind elsewhere.

  His ex-wife, Veronica, hadn’t been like the others…but in a startling flash of introspection, he realized seeking her out had been a deliberate, if subconscious, choice on his part. He’d been fleeing in the opposite direction. Rebounding. In a further surprise, it seemed as if the realization lifted a protracted bitterness left behind from the divorce.

  Replacing it was a touch of sympathy for Veronica; it wasn’t her fault she had never stood a chance to truly claim his heart.

  No, he was definitely attracted to a particular kind of woman: independent, self-motivated, driven and determined, uncommonly intelligent, dynamic of personality. Then he was somehow repeatedly shocked and disappointed when they didn’t instantly see the wisdom in his own outlook on the world and adopt it as their own forthwith. When they didn’t spontaneously start abiding by his own opinions, rules and strictures.

  Quite the quandary he’d set out for himself then deliberately trapped himself in, time and again.

  So what to do? Settle for someone safe who reaffirmed the correctness of his moral paradigm and perspective on the world? Or follow his heart to someone who challenged his precepts and forced him to grapple with the many uncomfortable shades of gray between right and wrong, but who fulfilled him in the deep places of his soul?

  If he loved Mia because of who and what she was—and that was the only way to love someone, wasn’t it?—how could he ask or even want her to be anything else? He couldn’t.

  So could he live with why he loved her? Which he still did, apparently.

  She may have had to make difficult decisions and take morally gray actions at times—actions that would make Veronica clutch at her chest in horror. But Mia had done more to save more people, to better their lives and protect their futures, than either Veronica or ninety-nine percent of the rest of society had ever conceived of. At the end of every day, who was the more moral person here?

  He managed to stifle this chuckle before it became audible. He was worse than a hypocrite. He was a spectacular idiot.

  “Power threshold reached. Ready for wormhole traversal, sir.”

  Malcolm nodded. “Understood. Hold for command authorization.”

  He willed the mission to go well, and also for it to go quickly. After all, when you realized what you wanted with this much clarity and conviction, you also wanted it now.

  SIYANE

  MILKY WAY SECTOR 17

  Alex listened to the Connexus hum with military precision. Structurally identical to the Noesis, it felt like a completely different entity.

  She was reminded that becoming a Prevo didn’t alone change a person’s nature. Hackers who became Prevos remained rebellious contrarians, lending a chaotic, unruly feel to the Noesis. Soldiers who became Prevos remained ordered and disciplined, and as a result the Connexus was as tidy as the formations at morning inspection.

  AEGIS Prevos representing thousands of ships confirmed their successful remote connection to the glowing ball of energy spinning at the center of the gathered forces.

  Alexis Solovy (Siyane): “Commandant Solovy, the Caeles Prism readings are within parameters. All capable vessels report solid power transference connections and operational readiness. Safe traversal window is open for the next eighty-two seconds. Recommend a ‘go.’ ”

  Caleb laughed under his breath. “Who are you and what have you done with my wife?”

  She shot him a smirk, then forced her attention back to the sea of ships and the cosmic marvel at their core. It wasn’t her job to oversee the operation, but it was her responsibility. The Caeles Prism wouldn’t exist here and now without Mia and Meno or Devon and Annie, nor without Kennedy, but it damn sure wouldn’t exist without her and Valkyrie.

  She really hoped the AEGIS fleet didn’t explode in a nova of runaway power and fracturing dimensions.

  Commandant Solovy (AFS Stalwart II): “AEGIS 1st Assault Brigade, proceed to Mission Staging Coordinates. Report on arrival.”

  A segment of vessels in the far upper right quadrant vanished.

  The two seconds of waiting which followed were nowhere so long as in the Connexus, where they ticked by in one hundred twenty billion individual nanoseconds.

  However, its participants were rewarded by knowing the result 62,000 nanoseconds before everyone else. Alex smiled.

  Commodore Saito (AFS Caledonia): “Arrival at Mission Staging Coordinates confirmed. All vessels accounted for. We are green across the board.”

  Commandant Solovy (AFS Stalwart II): “AEGIS 2nd and 3rd Assault Brigades, proceed to Mission Staging Coordinates. Report on arrival.”

  It continued on as the fleet traversed their wormholes in four waves. The final wave included her mother’s ship, and its arrival at the destination was followed by a brief pulse.

  Remarkably done, dear, as always. Thank you.

  You are most welcome. On my way.

  The Caeles Prism powered down and blinked out, leaving behind the stark darkness of interstellar space.

  She monitored the retrieval of the now-inactive device by the AFS Keswick. Much as they’d done on the Siyane, the interdictor’s Rifter had been modified to serve a dual function as a small Caeles Prism. The ship would transport the primary module to the other side, thus ensuring the fleet would be able to return when its mission was complete.

  There was a brief flash of light, and the Keswick, too, was gone.

  Caleb nodded in approval. “It’s just us now. Congratulations.”

  She breathed out slowly. “Thanks. Now, I don’t want to miss the show, so Valkyrie, when you’re ready.”

  ‘Initiating Caeles Prism.’

  With hardly a thought from her, a gap opened in space in front of them, widening and smoothing out to form a near-perfect oval. She considered it, then pulled the Reor slab from her pocket and opened her palm.

  She moved into the gap.

  The slab lit up in prismatic light, and again brilliant strings wove into, through and out of the odd mineral.

  Her lips curled up. “I wish you could see this. It’s beautiful.”

  She sensed Caleb squeeze her other hand, though she wouldn’t say she felt it, exactly. Sensations were off-kilter here. “The expression on your face right now tells me everything I need to know. It’s beautiful.”

  She smiled more broadly and tilted her head for an altered perspective. The strings traveled to and beyond the limits of her sight…but they weren’t technically strings, were they? Of course they weren’t; she’d labeled them as such for ease of reference. But in fact, they resembled miniature versions of the wide energy beams connecting the enormous Reor slabs in the Oneiroi Nebula, including the one she’d interacted with—

  —a yellow star, a frozen planet—

  —an eternal city, a room pitched in blackness—

  —a sphere bathed in light, spinning away from void to—

  She blinked. That was vivid. “Valkyrie, ask Mesme if the Kats encrypt the data they store with the Reor in the Oneiroi Nebula.”

  ‘One moment. Yes, they do. Mesme elaborates to say that while the likeliest outcome of the Reor sanctuary being discovered is its wholesale destruction, they cannot risk the smallest chance of Directorate agents attempting to capture the information stored there.’

  “Sukin syn. That means the Reor created a universal decryption key for themselves. They put a damn backdoor…where? Inside their very physical structure? In the process for imprinting data within the slabs?”

  Cale
b moved, shifting to half-face her. The motion made her a little dizzy. She should probably exit the wormhole space soon.

  “Why do you say so?”

  “Because I saw data when I touched that energy beam. It was confusing and disjointed, but it definitely wasn’t scrambled. It was traveling from slab to slab, and it was not encrypted.” She frowned. “How did I see it?”

  ‘Perhaps the Reor wanted you to see it. Recall, this occurred after they gifted you the slab you hold.’

  “They wanted me to know they were accessing the encrypted data stored within their slabs? So I would know it could be accessed? Terrific, but since I don’t have the universal decryption key, this doesn’t actually do me any good. And we still don’t know how to talk to them to ask them to pretty please let us borrow it.”

  “Are you sure they didn’t already give it to you?”

  She eyed Caleb askance, trying not to get distracted by the waves of light dancing through the crimson aura that surrounded him, giving him an otherworldly appearance. “What do you mean?”

  He reached over and placed the fingertips of one hand on the Reor slab. The strings continued on their journeys unhindered. “What if it’s in here?”

  “We checked. There’s no data stored in the slab.”

  “What if it’s not data, but instead a sort of…pattern? Like an old-fashioned padlock, or keyhole—match the pattern, and you get in.”

  Her vision zoomed in until the slab filled it. But after the filaments angled in several times, even using all her enhancements she was not able to track the additional dimensions into which they traveled. She simply could not say if the patterns they created differed from those of any other Reor slab.

  ‘Caeles Prism power levels are approaching dangerous levels.’

  “Right.” She shook her head roughly and exited the wormhole into normal space at the Mission Staging Coordinates, where she found the AEGIS fleet waiting on her.

  The secrets of the Reor were going to have to keep for a while longer.

 

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