She took the time to pour her own drink. Adlai had shown up at her door way too early this morning; the only reason she’d been awake and dressed was due to Dashiel gleefully keeping insane work hours this week. Scotch before noon wasn’t her usual habit, nor did she imagine it was Adlai’s, but her bleary-eyed take was that the situation called for it.
“First, it doesn’t sound as if it was ‘on a whim’ at all. Second, I’m not being blasé about it. I mean this quite sincerely. She’s been making herself miserable. She’s emotionally spent. She’s unhappy. And as Asterions, we have the unique ability to do something to fix it when we find ourselves in such a state. We can, in effect, engineer our own happiness. She has as much right to grow and change as you or I do. She has a right to be happy.”
“And her unhappiness was tearing me apart. I just wish she’d talked to me about this beforehand.”
“And what would you have said to her to try to change her mind?”
He shrugged roughly as he took another long sip of his drink. “I would have told her she’s perfect the way she is, with her boundless empathy and tender soul. They’re what make her so special.”
“I don’t disagree, Adlai. And, yes, it kind of sucks for us that she’s probably tamped those down a bit with this up-gen. But wearing her heart on her sleeve was making her despondent, and not merely at work. All the time.” Nika leaned on the counter for emphasis. “The truth is, since the Rasu showed up at our doorstep, we’ve increasingly forced her into situations which she simply wasn’t equipped to handle.”
“I didn’t force her into anything! She repeatedly insisted on managing the refugees.”
“Of course she did. It’s who she is—someone who yearns to help the lost and the hurt. Helping others has always made her stronger…right up until it broke her. She says this was the only way for her to keep following the calling in her heart, and I’m inclined to believe her.”
“And if she destroyed that very heart in the process?”
“Now you’re just being histrionic. Nothing got destroyed yesterday.”
He shook his head and took another sip of the scotch.
Nika sighed. He’d worked himself into a righteous temper, and he didn’t appear to want to be talked down. But because she cared far more about Perrin than she did about Adlai, she kept trying. “Let me ask you something. How many up-gens did you choose to undergo while you were a Justice officer climbing the ranks? How many targeted tweaks did you make to your programming to hone your skills and focus your talents until you reached a point where you were finally prepared to be an Advisor?”
“What does it matter? Perrin isn’t auditioning to be an Advisor!”
“Actually, she is, though she doesn’t know it.”
His glass hit the counter again. “What are you talking about?”
“Kiyora needs a real Administration Advisor to replace Gemina Kail, and it needs one badly. The others have been discussing nominating Perrin for the position. Or they were until yesterday, when Katherine tried to nix the idea, saying Perrin was too emotional and unreliable. If I had to guess, I bet whatever caused Katherine to pitch a fit is the same event that caused Perrin to pull the trigger on an up-gen. And I say again, it means she was correct to do so.”
Adlai frowned darkly. “Kiyora? But it’s….”
“Oh gods, Adlai, are you truly that selfish? You don’t want her to move to Kiyora? In practical terms, it’s no different from if she moved to the other side of the city.”
“But I like her living at my place. I like coming home to her smile.”
Nika’s annoyance petered out as quickly as it had flared. “I understand. I miss seeing it every day at The Chalet, too. But I’ll bet lately, you were more often coming home to her tears than her smiles.”
He didn’t respond.
“Dashiel and I have made separate homes work. After a few hundred years together, you tend to discover the relationship fares better if you both have space and solitude when you need it. You might even find your bond grows stronger for it.”
Despite her efforts, he still looked so miserable. She offered him the bottle of scotch, but he waved her off. “I can’t. I’m already late for work.”
She returned the bottle to the cabinet, because she certainly wasn’t having any more. “Besides, I don’t know what’s going to happen with the Advisor position. I don’t know if the other Administration Advisors will nominate her. If they do, I don’t know if the Council will approve her, and if it does, I don’t know if she’ll accept the offer.”
Abruptly she went around and dropped an elbow on the counter beside him. “But, Adlai, listen to me carefully. If they do put her name forward to the Council, don’t you dare vote against her. Whether out of a desire to protect her from the burdens of being an Advisor or a selfish need to keep her all to yourself, you don’t have the right to deny her this opportunity.”
“I know I don’t. But, Nika…she’s not ready.”
“No, she wasn’t ready yesterday. Maybe today she is. Let’s give her a chance to show us.”
He dropped his empty glass into the sink with an overdramatic flourish. “Fine, fine. Your insistent logic is making me feel like I’m as emotional as Perrin on a bad day. I realize I can’t be selfish, and I can’t shield her from the evil vagaries of the world. I only hope this up-gen didn’t change the traits that make me love her so damn much. And…I’m terrified it did.”
Shit. She couldn’t very well be perturbed at him now, could she? “And I’m confident it didn’t. I think we both need an abundance of bubbly, happy Perrin in our lives, and I’m excited at the prospect of seeing more of that person again. Believe in her, Adlai.”
24
* * *
CONCORD HQ
Senate
Marlee took a deep breath and drew her shoulders up as she rang the door chime, then donned her practiced ‘diplomat’ countenance when the door opened to grant her entry.
“Excuse me, Senator Corradeo? I’m Marlee Marano from the….” All her earnest preparations promptly evaporated. She’d only ever seen her grandfather in historical family visuals, but the man sitting at the desk inside the office was the spitting image of Stefan Marano.
As his gaze rose curiously to meet hers, she forced aside the deeply creepy déjà vu. “…Consulate. I’m here to escort you on your visit to see our Ourankeli guests.”
His lips tugged upward as he stood, came around from behind his desk and offered her a gracious hand. “Marano? Are you Caleb’s…?”
“Niece, sir. He’s spoken fondly of you many times.” Or she was certain he would have, if not for all the angsty personal complications. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“And you, Ms. Marano. My escort, you say? I should mention that I have previously visited the Ourankeli all on my own.”
As if I didn’t do the homework! “Yes, sir—at Haelwyeur, back before the Rasu attacked them. Please don’t misunderstand. We don’t believe you’re any threat to them, or they to you. It’s merely that the Consulate has detailed protocols in place when it comes to new refugee populations. And I’m a big believer in protocol.”
His lips curled up yet more. “Are you?”
Her composure broke a little, and she chuckled lightly. “No, sir, not actually. But I have a new boss, and I’m trying to make a good impression, so might you fancy humoring me?”
“I understand. Besides, none of the Ourankeli who survived will know me, nor I them, so perhaps an intermediary is a good idea. Let’s venture onward, shall we?”
“Yes, sir. We’ve placed them on several floors of the Hotel Cassiopeia. Among other benefits, it features a large gathering area on every other floor, where they can spend most of their time together rather than isolated in disparate rooms. They’ve lived in close confines for a while now, so they seem to prefer it.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know where the hotel is located—or much of anything else. Concord HQ is a big place, and I’m new here.�
�
“Not to worry. Just come with me. I can point out some of the more notable attractions along the way.”
HOTEL CASSIOPEIA
When they reached the door to the common area most of the Ourankeli were occupying, Marlee held up a hand to halt the Senator’s progress. “If you’ll excuse me for a second, sir, I should confirm they’re prepared for guests.”
Corradeo Praesidis took a step back and motioned to the door. He was almost Novoloume-like in his graciousness and polite manner, which she wasn’t expecting. Hadn’t he once wrestled the diati into submission, then waged interstellar war against the Dzhvar? Then later against the Asterions? He’d had a change of heart, obviously, but…. On the other hand, she’d belatedly begun to pick up on how Caleb could call upon similar chameleon tendencies when the situation called for it.
She announced her impending presence through the door chime, then stepped into the gathering room. Three dozen Ourankeli milled about, talking in small groups or…she kept any confusion off her expression like a good diplomat, but were several of them taking apart the furniture and using the pieces to build new items? Their reputation as the industrious sort was well-earned, but the hotel management wasn’t going to be amused.
She scanned the group but came up empty in her search for their unofficial leader, Cyfeill. “Excuse me, everyone? Do you know where Cyfeill is? We had a scheduled appointment this morning.”
All the Ourankeli understood Communis, though many of them disdained speaking it, but only a single Ourankeli glided in her direction. “Wyddoniiet called them away. To a…Special Project?”
“The Special Projects division? Thank you. Before I go, does anyone need anything?”
They all ignored her question, which she was getting used to, so she backed out, closed the door and plastered on a conciliatory demeanor as she turned to her companion. “I’m afraid our primary contact, Cyfeill, had to see to a matter at Special Projects.”
“The weapon development, I imagine.”
He did not miss a detail. “Very possibly, yes.”
By all rights, she should return the Senator to his office and reschedule the meeting for a later date. But since Morgan had gotten Devon Reynolds to increase her clearance level for Special Projects, she should be able to gain access to wherever they were all gathered. And maybe she’d bump into Morgan while she was there.
“Tell me, have you received the official senatorial tour of Special Projects?”
“I have not.”
“Then if you’re interested, we can see to the tour now, and hopefully be able to spend a few minutes with Cyfeill as well.”
His smile seemed to hold a hint of amusement, in a way that reminded her a touch of Caleb when he was in a good mood. She was picking up on a theme here. “I am at your mercy, Ms. Marano.”
She almost giggled, but managed to restrain herself. He was being indulgent, but she shouldn’t push it. “Follow me. This one is a bit more of a trek.”
Special Projects
“I know how subatomic particles work! If you’ll listen to my entire question without assuming I’m a barbarian and tuning the details out, I think you’ll find that I am trying to make a salient point.”
Cyfeill floated—or at least appeared to float—beside the conference table. “Are all Concordians as arrogant and petulant as you?”
“No, only the ones who’ve earned the right to be. And there’s no such thing as a ‘Concordian.’ I’m a ‘human.’ Others are different species.”
“I’ve yet to see a meaningful distinction. You are all—”
Marlee rushed forward, trying not to act panicked, and insinuated herself between Devon and Cyfeill. “So grateful that you’re here with us and safe from the Rasu. We’re sorry if any cultural miscues have led you to feel unwelcome or unappreciated.” She shot Devon a pointed glare. “Aren’t we, Director Reynolds?”
Devon made a face. “I was simply trying to ask a specific and relevant question.”
“And there are bound to be communications issues as we all get to know one another better. Might a brief break be in order?”
No one volunteered assent, and she searched for another way to break the tension. Behind Devon, Kennedy Rossi sat at a worktable, her hands clasped in her lap and a breezy, cocktail-party expression adorning her features. “Kennedy, hi! Why don’t you and Devon take a few minutes to review what you’ve learned so far, and Cyfeill and I will go speak to Senator Corradeo?”
Kennedy’s gaze went to the door, and an eyebrow arched. “Oh. We can absolutely do so. Devon?” Kennedy motioned to the opposite side of the worktable.
“Fine.” Devon stalked over to the worktable and yanked out a chair.
Marlee reached out, stopping just short of touching one of the Ourankeli’s arms. She was desperate to learn if their skin felt like jelly, but she also wanted to keep her job. “I apologize. Scientists can be a little intense when focused on their work, can’t they?”
She finally took in the rest of the occupants of the room. No Morgan, unfortunately, but Wyddoniiet and two additional Ourankeli conferred in the far corner. “Wyddoniiet, why don’t you join us? There’s someone here I think you’d like to meet.”
The Ourankeli whom Caleb and Alex had encountered at the halo ring glided over to them. “A break is indeed in order. What is underway?”
She metaphorically dragged the two of them toward the door, where Corradeo stood, his hands clasped behind his back, wearing a neutral countenance. It brightened noticeably, however, as they approached. “Senator, allow me to introduce Wyddoniiet and Cyfeill of the Ourankeli. This is Senator Corradeo Praesidis, who once—”
Wyddoniiet’s eyes shifted left, then right. “Spent a span of time amongst our people. We…recall.”
Neither of them had been alive when he’d visited Haelwyeur, but the Ourankeli possessed a form of historical memory or data sharing capability. Of some sort. Like much else, they hadn’t been inclined to share the details of how it worked.
“It is my greatest honor to meet you both.” Corradeo made an intricate sweeping motion with both hands; she’d seen Cyfeill perform a similar motion once or twice, so it must be an Ourankeli greeting. And he remembered it after all this time. “Please allow me to express my tremendous sadness at the destruction of your home and loss of so many of your people. I have only fond memories of my time spent at Haelwyeur.”
Cyfeill looked to still be fretting, if their vibrating limbs were any indication, but Wyddoniiet’s demeanor calmed. “We owe you for our discovery by Alex, Caleb and the synthetic Valkyrie. Thus, we owe our lives to you. You have our gratitude.”
“I’m simply glad they were able to reach you in time and help you escape the Rasu. As an official representative of Concord, let me say that I hope we can assist you in building a new and fruitful life here among us.”
“I hope such will be our future. But now the Rasu threaten Concordians the same as they did us. Forgive us if we cannot settle into complacency and dreams of the future.”
“Of course. But with your help, we will be even better equipped to face and ultimately defeat our mutual enemy.”
Marlee took a moment to recognize that she was watching a master at work. But only a moment, for the vibe in the lab remained tense. She offered a tiny nod to the senator. “Which, I believe, is the goal of everyone here today. I’m sorry you’re all having difficulties reaching a consensus. Perhaps I—” she gestured quickly to the senator “—perhaps we can assist in overcoming any language or cultural barriers. Why don’t I confer with the others for a minute while the three of you…share some memories.”
She exited the circle with imposed grace and strode over to the worktable, where Devon was whispering while waving his hands around. Kennedy gave her a helpless look as she sat down.
“Devon, what is this mess?”
“This is them being infuriating, insufferable, impossibly arrogant aliens. They seem to think no one here understands basic extradimension
al quantum physics!”
She checked with Kennedy, who winced. “I’m afraid it’s true. Devon’s being a mite on the testy side, but I admit I’ve never met such condescending scientists, alien or otherwise. And trust me, this is saying something.”
“See?”
Marlee chewed on her bottom lip. “I assume you’re trying to get them to explain to you the nitty-gritty details of their Rasu-busting weapon? The Ymyrath Field?”
Devon blew out a breath. “That was the idea. The two Ourankeli over in the corner are allegedly the only two who actively worked on the project, but they’re deferring to Wyddy and Cyfeill on everything.”
Marlee covered her mouth to quiet a laugh. “Wyddy?”
Devon shrugged.
“First off, don’t you dare call them that to their face. Please, I beg you. Second, how far have you gotten in extracting information from them?”
“We know the weapon involved a particle accelerator used to create a new variant of neutrons. ‘Isotope’ isn’t a strictly accurate term, but it gives you the gist. It’s analogous to neutronium, but we’re calling it 4-neutron. And after two hours, that’s everything we know.”
“Well it’s a start, at least. The conversation broke down when you tried to probe the scientific details of this new isotope?”
“Yup.”
Marlee glanced over her shoulder to make sure Corradeo and the others were still getting on peaceably. “Okay. Devon, I realize you’re as smart as them. Smarter. You know it, too. So you don’t have to prove anything. We need this weapon, don’t we?”
“It certainly can’t hurt.”
Kennedy frowned. “Or maybe it can. We won’t find out until we build one and test it, which is kind of the point. And why I’m here. But I should probably get back to my main job and return later, because at this point we’re a parsec away from building anything.”
“Give me five minutes to try to make some progress here before you leave?”
All Our Tomorrows Page 14