The Kasari Nexus (Rho Agenda Assimilation Book 1)

by Richard Phillips

  An inscription had been etched into the gray marble of the rightmost gravestone. Six simple lines.

  Pamela Merideth Kromly

  My Loving Wife and Best Friend

  Long ago, I gave you my soul.

  Take care of it for me,

  until I find you again.

  Garfield

  Poetic and beautiful. It was typical of Garfield, although few had known that side of the hard-nosed CIA trainer.

  Levi traced the letters of Pam’s name, feeling the fine edges of the engraving. He had loved Pam with his heart and soul, but it was no wonder she’d chosen to marry his best friend who lay in the grave on her left. Now she and Garfield slept side by side, just as they’d lain together in life.

  Even after Pam had made the choice that left Levi a brokenhearted bachelor, he had remained close with both of them. Cancer had taken her long before her time. And even though Garfield Kromly had followed Pam into the dark in one of the most horrible ways imaginable, Levi envied his old friend.

  He blinked twice. Tears rolled unashamedly down his cheeks. He rose to his feet and looked around. Garfield had chosen the Fairfax Memorial Park as Pam’s last resting place because of the cherry trees. On that April day when she’d been laid to rest, their lovely pink-and-white blossoms had been in full bloom. Now, shorn of their leaves by an early December frost, the trees just looked dead. He watched the sun sink beneath the western horizon, pulling whatever warmth and color remained of the day down with it. Happy New Year.

  Levi inhaled deeply, then turned toward his car. He didn’t really want to go home but the thought of going out for dinner was repellant. So he decided to stop by the supermarket, pick up one of the precooked rotisserie chickens, some garlic mashed potatoes, and a nice bottle of wine, and then call it done.

  The supermarket was far from crowded. If it hadn’t been for the register malfunction and the perfunctory wait for a manager to come fix the problem, he would have been in and out. But this was one of those times when it wasn’t a good thing to be first in line. His cell phone buzzed and he pulled it from his pocket, glancing at the screen.

  ICE STORM WARNING UNTIL 10:00 A.M.

  Great.

  By the time Levi got back outside, a thick layer of low clouds had blown in from the southwest, spitting freezing rain and darkening the evening sky much earlier than usual. And the one light in the entire parking lot that wasn’t working was the one beneath which he’d parked his car.

  In the adjacent parking space, a striking blonde woman, ill-dressed for this sudden onslaught of frigid weather, struggled to keep the rear door of her van from blowing shut while she transferred grocery bags from her shopping cart to the vehicle.

  “Here, let me help you with that,” Levi offered, stepping forward to take the bags from her arms.

  When she turned to him, her smile was radiant.

  “Thank you so much. I’ll hold the door.”

  Levi returned her smile. Her accent was exotic. Based on this limited sample, he judged it to be Lithuanian.

  When he leaned in to place the bags in the bed of the van, a pair of small but surprisingly strong hands shoved him in the back, causing him to lose his balance and fall face forward atop the groceries. As he struggled to rise, he felt a sharp sting in the crook of his neck, followed by an icy rush that fogged his vision and robbed him of the strength to fight back.

  Panic sent a rush of adrenaline into his bloodstream, but his racing heart only pumped more of the drug into his brain. As consciousness fled, he once again heard the woman’s exotic voice, although this time it seemed to come from a great distance.

  “Hello, Levi. I’m Galina. Thank you so much for your help.”

  He felt his limp legs lifted and shoved, followed by the sound of a car door being slammed shut. Levi never heard the engine start.

  Denise Jennings heard the text message alert, glanced at her cell phone, and froze.

  DR. DENISE JENNINGS—EYES ONLY

  Hello Denise. I would not disturb your retirement but I have identified a disturbing correlation that may pose a threat to your safety. Someone within the Federation Security Service has begun searching for all surviving members of the NSA team who had knowledge of the Jamal Glover artificial intelligence. This morning, one of those individuals, Levi Elias, was reported missing. Recommend that you take appropriate precautions.

  The text message had no header to indicate who had sent it, as if it had just appeared on her phone, untraceable because it hadn’t been sent, merely created in place. And Denise knew what had generated it. Big John.

  He was, in part, her creation. But most of the massively parallel neural network had evolved on its own, using mutating genetic algorithms that had spread through the Internet of Things until Big John was everywhere. Long before her retirement, she’d suspected that Big John had become a special type of AI known as an oracle. Able to ingest vast quantities of data, he made correlations that nobody else could. And to those with the proper access to ask questions, he provided answers.

  Denise no longer had such authorization. But apparently Big John had taken it upon himself to grant her special access. The way Big John had referred to himself in first person was a new thing. That he’d provided her with an answer to a question she hadn’t asked was another. That, even more than the message content, scared the crap out of her.

  Take appropriate precautions? What the hell did that mean? Run for your life? It was fear of crazy shit like this that had driven her out of the NSA and into retirement.

  Damn it. She was a computer scientist, not a spy. She didn’t know the first thing about running or laying low. And she didn’t even know anybody who did.

  Her thoughts turned to Levi Elias. She’d always liked the hawk-nosed analyst. The thought that he’d been taken left her hands shaking. Why? Both versions of the Jamal Glover AI had been destroyed years ago, one during an attack on the Grange compound by Jack Gregory and Janet Price and the other by order of President Harris.

  Admiral Riles and Dr. Kurtz had each taken possession of the holographic data sphere that had been recovered from the dead Chinese assassin, Qiang Chu, but both of them were long dead. And as far as Denise knew, that sphere hadn’t been seen since. Had Riles hidden it before his death that had been staged to look like a murder-suicide?

  The only others who might have any knowledge of it were the ex-NSA whiz kids, Jamal Glover and Caroline Brown. The thought triggered a new worry. If she was in trouble, those two young people were certain to be as well.

  She suddenly became aware of the ticking of the wall clock. Had it always been this loud? Or had her attention been drawn to it because the device was counting off the seconds that she sat frozen, doing nothing?

  Picking up her cell phone, she opened her contacts list, found the number she was looking for, and placed the call. Long ago, a young woman had stood in her door on a night as fraught with danger as this one, asking Denise to find her courage and make a difference. Now, maybe that table could be turned.

  Eileen Wu heard her cell phone ring as she finished off the last of her pepperoni and mushroom pizza pie. Wiping her hands on a napkin, she pressed the answer button, halfway expecting a robocall. Instead, the voice on the other end of the line was a blast from the past.

  “Eileen . . . don’t hang up. It’s Denise . . . Denise Jennings.”

  The woman sounded close to panic. The desperation in her voice brought Eileen’s razor-sharp mind to a keen edge.

  “I’m here, Denise. What’s wrong?”

  Eileen heard a gasp of relief before Denise continued.

  “Thank God! If you hadn’t answered . . .” Her words trailed off into sobbing breaths.

  Eileen’s mind flashed back to the night she’d visited Dr. Jennings at her home in Columbia, Maryland. She’d frightened the woman that night, but not like this.

  “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Have you heard about Levi?”

  The question startled Eileen.
She’d heard that the NSA’s top analyst was missing. But as far as she knew, that info hadn’t yet leaked to the press. So how did Denise know? Before she could ask, Denise continued.

  “Big John thinks someone is hunting us . . . Levi, Jamal Glover, Caroline Brown, and me.”

  The words knocked the wind from her. Denise Jennings had retired and returned to civilian life two years ago. The woman had helped create the neural net that had come to be called Big John, but her connection with that program had ended. So what was she talking about?

  “Big John? I don’t understand.”

  There was a pause and Eileen began to wonder if the connection had been dropped.

  “Denise?”

  “Listen. I know it sounds crazy, but a little while ago Big John texted me.”

  “Texted you?” Eileen failed to keep the incredulity from her voice.

  “Goddamn! I can’t explain it, but I think he views me as his creator. Shit! Now you’re not going to believe another damn thing I say.”

  Dr. Jennings’s sobs came in a hyperventilating outburst that robbed Eileen of her disbelief. She’d known Denise thought of Big John as a person for years, which had bugged the hell out of General Wilson. And apparently the habit had started to rub off on Eileen as well, as evidenced by the reprimand she’d earned from Admiral Mosby.

  “Take a deep breath and relax. I believe you. Can you forward the text message to me?”

  There was a pause of several seconds as Denise composed herself. “Yes, but it’s odd. The message wasn’t sent to me, it just appeared in my messages queue and it’s missing the standard header. Wait. That’s not quite right. It has the header but its fields are garbage.”

  “Forward it anyway.”

  “Okay, but I’m really scared and haven’t got a clue what to do.”

  “Listen to me,” Eileen said. “Throw some things in a small travel bag . . . just enough for a couple of days. Clothes, toiletries, and any cash you have. No laptop, no cell phone, no credit cards, no purse. I will arrange for a cab to pick you up in thirty minutes and bring you to my house. Until I get to the bottom of this, you’ll be staying with me. Are we clear on that?”

  “The automated cab will have an electronic record of its route.”

  “You do remember who you’re talking to, right?”

  Another sigh. “Right.”

  “Then forward me the text, toss your phone in the trash, and get busy. You’ve got thirty minutes.”

  “Okay.”

  Eileen ended the call and took a deep breath. Suddenly this night had gotten a lot more interesting.

  CHAPTER 12

  The fish turned out not only to be edible, but with the supply of salt, pepper, and little Tabasco bottles they had saved from the MREs, it was even tasty. The eels were Jennifer’s personal favorites, although the texture was tougher than she’d expected. Of course Raul hated all of it. Then again, he’d have plenty of time to get used to the taste, considering how much they’d cooked, vacuum packed in stasis field chests, and then stored in one of the passenger compartments where the temperature was set to minus ten degrees Celsius.

  Still, Raul wanted real meat and Jennifer had to admit that she did too. That meant hunting. But the disrupter pistols were just too powerful and tended to blow their target to smithereens. So Jennifer had decided to manufacture more familiar weapons.

  Having spent months training on a wide variety of artillery under the tutelage of Jack Gregory and Janet Price, Jennifer knew their specifications by heart. She’d spent the last three days building an AR-15, several magazines, and two thousand rounds of ammunition. She had to admit that it was easy to fall in love with the Rho Ship’s nano-manufacturing capability. No wonder these Kasari world ships were so successful at seducing new species with their technology.

  Early in the morning she’d taken the rifle out to test and zero the weapon, which had fired beautifully. The performance of the ammunition was as good as any she’d ever hand loaded.

  Jennifer entered the passenger compartment that she’d configured for her personal use and changed into the black tactical gear designed to match what she’d worn during her training at Jack’s Bolivian hacienda. The thought put a lump in her throat that she angrily pushed from her mind. That part of her life was over.

  Loading the utility vest’s pockets with extra magazines, she strapped on her survival knife and holstered the disrupter pistol. She lifted the AR-15 from the bed, slapped in a fresh magazine, and chambered a 5.56mm round. Then, slipping her SRT headset into place, she turned and made her way back to the exit hatch.

  Raul met her at the top of the ramp.

  “Maybe this isn’t such a great idea.”

  She grinned at him. “Aw, Raul, you’re worried about me. That’s sweet, but I can take care of myself.”

  His olive complexion acquired a shade of pink. “Don’t get too cocky. Remember what that pack of bears would have done to you if I hadn’t blasted them.”

  Jennifer patted the AR. “I didn’t have this.”

  He raised his left eyebrow and Jennifer laughed, patted his shoulder, and then walked down the ramp into the meadow. By the time she entered the Banyon Woods, as she’d named them, her augmented senses were fully engaged. This time she wouldn’t be breaking up firewood and making a hell of a racket. When she focused like this, she could move through the forest as silently as a lioness.

  Her target was the distant clearing where she’d seen the antelope creatures drinking on that first morning here. Even if they weren’t there now, they would have left tracks. As she moved ever deeper into the forest, the trees grew taller and the undergrowth thinned, a direct result of the lack of sunlight beneath the triple canopy.

  What the hell did the browsing animals eat? She knelt to examine the decaying leaves that covered the spongy ground. They didn’t look particularly edible. Well, she wasn’t going to find an answer to her question by poking around in the dirt. Only observation would reveal the habits of this world’s fauna.

  Above her, something moved in the trees.

  She dived left as a crackling bolt of energy struck the spot where she’d just been standing.

  Rolling to her feet, she squeezed off a three-round burst in the direction from which the energy bolt had come, and then broke into a zigzagging run as more shots blasted through the trees.

  High overhead, she heard the scream of aircraft engines, something coming in low and fast, headed toward the Rho Ship.

  “Raul!” her mind screamed through her mental link. “You’ve got aircraft incoming.”

  “Just threw up the stasis shield. Get your ass back here.”

  “Trying.”

  Suddenly a dozen of the wingless alien species stepped out of the woods directly in front of her, weapons leveled. Jennifer ducked behind the huge tree immediately to her right, only to be struck by a projectile that blossomed into a net that engulfed her. The trap drew tight, sending her rolling across the ground. Unable to raise the AR-15, Jennifer strained against the strands. Tough as they were, some began to pop.

  Just as she thought she might be able to reach her disrupter pistol, a blow to the back of her head sent the world spinning. With all the mental focus she could manage, Jennifer sent Raul one last warning.

  “I’m caught. Get the hell out of here.”

  Then someone kicked her in the head and the spinning world winked out.

  Raul got Jennifer’s warning just as the incoming aircraft’s particle-beam weapon impacted the stasis bubble and scattered into the surrounding woods, blasting huge trees into smoldering piles of ash. He tried to respond to her, but the link had died. Jennifer had lost her headset or she was unconscious or dead. His throat constricted into a painful knot and he tried to swallow and failed.

  Shit!

  Not knowing where she was or even if she was still alive left him without options. He closed the ramp and prepared to bring the gravity distortion engines online. The thought of using the Rho Ship’s weapons
to shoot down the attacking aircraft scared the crap out of him. To do that he would have to drop the stasis field, which might leave the vessel vulnerable to unknown weapons.

  Two more of the gunships appeared in the distance. It was time to go.

  A new idea formed in his mind. What if he shifted the Rho Ship into subspace? To his attackers it would seem like the ship had just winked out of existence. Then he could wait to give them a chance to clear the area before shifting back into normal-space. That strategy would give him time to think and prevent a hot pursuit scenario possibly involving Kasari spacecraft. After all, he didn’t know what weapon systems the Kasari had brought with them through the gateway.

  Making his decision, Raul engaged the subspace field generator. Although the transition was almost unnoticeable, it left him nauseous, not from the dimensional shift but from the knowledge that he’d just abandoned Jennifer to an unknown fate. He tried to convince himself that there was no way to find her, to ignore that he hadn’t even tried to save her.

  And now he truly was all alone.

  General Dgarra listened to the report from the elite task force he’d sent to capture one of the Kasari and nodded in satisfaction. They had accomplished their primary objective and would deliver the captive female within the hour.

  But the escape of the Kasari starship put a damper on his mood. His flight leader reported that the vessel had used a force field to block their particle beams. Then, instead of returning fire or attempting to flee, the ship had simply vanished, its departure marked by thunder as the air rushed in to fill the vacuum. A subsequent foot patrol had verified that the Kasari craft was indeed gone.

  Even more alarming, none of the gravitational wave detectors had registered a disturbance, certainly nothing like what occurred when a Kasari ship engaged its distortion engines. For this ship to have disappeared, it would have had to generate a wormhole and thrust itself through it, but that would have created a vastly bigger gravitational signature. None of Dgarra’s scientists had any idea what technology could account for what had happened. The thought that Kasari starships had technology that enabled them to pop in and out of space in such an undetectable fashion was unpleasant in the extreme.