Lance scoffed. “How much is a little?”
“Not a lot, by definition. Enough to give our pilots a few additional seconds’ warning. I’ll talk to the ship systems’ research team about running tests as soon as I get a chance.”
“Thank you. We have to reach for every single advantage we can find.” She turned back to Lance. “Have you let Commandant Solovy know? And the Taiyoks?”
“Yes, on both counts. And now that we’ve confirmed what’s happening to the freighters, I’ll increase their escort complements. Phillips and Toru got lucky today, but we need greater firepower on the scene if we want to stop every attack.”
“Which you can do because you now have a huge number of ships to play around with, thanks to me.” Dashiel stood and placed his hands on Nika’s shoulders. “Come with me to the testing facility? The new vehicle I was trying to tell you about when the freighter abductions started is ready for certification.”
She peered up at him and nodded. “Sure. Just give me one minute.”
“I need to talk to one of the other Industry Advisors, anyway. I’ll meet you at the lift.”
She closed out the fighter pilot’s report and quietly dragged her hands down her face. Stealth…the last thing they needed was another complication. Was a Rasu spy lurking up there right now, in visual range of Mirai, watching for any weakness to appear? Almost certainly.
50
* * *
MIRAI
Ridani Enterprises Testing Facility
Situated on an elevated platform in the middle of the testing field was a…craft. Part tank, part hoverflyer, part tiny fighter jet, as near as Nika could discern. The frame was constructed of smooth, all-but-seamless adiaK, hiding the interior from view. A compact in-atmo engine was tucked in beneath the frame, and atop the craft sat two small laser repeaters and one much larger launcher.
Nika ventured closer, circling around the frame while curiously studying the dominating launcher from every angle. It was built into the body of the craft, and a tube curved down from the large barrel to disappear into the interior.
“A monstrosity, isn’t it?”
She spun around to see Dashiel standing a few meters away, grimacing at the craft.
“What is it, exactly?”
“We’re calling it a Tactical Assault Glider, or ‘TAG.’ ”
“This is a Rima Grenade launcher on top, isn’t it?”
“It is. The TAG is a surface-based aerial vehicle designed to combat ongoing Rasu planetary invasions.”
“Is the entire interior filled with Rima Grenades?”
He chuckled. “Just about. Don’t want to run out of ammunition behind enemy lines.”
“Lance is going to love this.”
“Lance doesn’t love anything I build for him. But he will eagerly put it to work nonetheless.”
“He’ll love it. He might not say it, but he will.” She searched around for a telltale seam to indicate the presence of a hatch or a door. “How is it piloted?”
“Remotely. Ceraff-derived hardware is installed inside, so a pilot with the correct programming in place can take control of the craft from anywhere. The safety of the base, a frigate in space, a bunker down the street.”
“Brilliant, as always, darling.” She set the duffel bag she carried down beside her and reached out to hug him. His muscles felt tense, and fine lines marred his features. He’d been working like a madman lately; the strain was starting to show.
She brought a hand to his cheek. “You need to get some rest.”
“I could say the same about you.”
“Good point.” She dropped her forehead to his. “We both ought to get some rest.”
“But we probably won’t.”
“Probably not.” Her lips lingered on his until his head tilted away, toward the ground. “What’s in the bag?”
“Oh! Something I want to show you. Let’s wander a safe distance away from the TAG. I don’t want to accidentally wreck your prototype.”
“It’s made of adiaK. You can’t wreck it.”
“You might be surprised.” She grabbed the bag by the handles and trekked off toward a spot of grass farther away from the testing field. When she’d put a few dozen meters between herself and the TAG, she dropped the bag again, knelt and opened it up.
Inside, encased in double cushioning, was a latticed orb a mere three centimeters in diameter. She carefully removed it from its casing then stood, holding it out in her palm.
“Is this a new model of Rima Grenade?”
“Not quite. More like the mutant offspring of a Rima Grenade and a Rift Bubble. See, while I was updating the access codes for all our Rift Bubbles, Mesme paid me a visit.”
“You mentioned that.”
“I did. Sorry. Anyway, the Kat intimated that there was a way to remotely access and alter the Rift Bubble code, then meandered off into the stars without explaining, naturally. So I dug deeper into the operating code…and quickly got distracted by another idea. We’ve already modified the Rift Bubble design to create the Rima Grenades. Why don’t we simply build the devices ourselves?”
His eyes narrowed at her, then drifted down to the object on her palm. “And that’s what this is? A Rift Bubble?”
“A small one, yes. It’s horribly inefficient, for now. If we were to build one of our own powerful enough to protect an entire planet, it would be a kilometer wide. But we’ll get the inefficiencies under control in time. This one is more of a personal protective device.” She grinned. “Stay there.”
She backed away from him, making sure he didn’t follow, until she’d put thirty meters between them. Then she sent the instruction for the device to activate.
A golden sphere of light burst to life from nothing at the center of the lattice. The light began to spin and pulsate within its cage; her skin tingled from the energy, but it didn’t burn as much as when she stood near a full-sized Rift Bubble. Finally the spinning calmed, leaving the sphere undulating peacefully in her palm.
Her gaze rose. “Now approach me.”
Across the field, Dashiel frowned. “I don’t want to burn up in our sun’s corona, and I’m rather upset that you seem to want to send me there.”
“You won’t, silly. Come on.”
“Okay….” He blew out a ponderous breath and began walking forward, one cautious step at a time. Twenty meters, fifteen—an invisible force knocked him back through the air and onto his ass.
She burst out laughing, though she really shouldn’t have.
“Ow!” Several groans followed from his location on the ground.
“I’m sorry. Are you all right?”
He gingerly stood and brushed dirt off his nice slacks. “I am.”
She hurriedly deactivated the device and jogged over to him. As soon as she arrived, he snatched the orb out of her hand and began studying it. “You made this all on your own?”
“Not entirely. Parc helped.”
His eyes darted up to her. “Why didn’t you ask me to help?”
“Because you are beyond busy, and I didn’t want to tax you further. Besides, whenever you do have a few free minutes, I’d prefer it if you spent them naked. With me, I mean.”
“Hmm.” He held the orb up close to his face. “What are the etchings along the interior?”
“Nanofibers. The orb isn’t truly empty. The fibers are where the code to run it resides.”
“Don’t leave me hanging here. What is the lattice made of?”
“A silicene/borophene metamaterial woven through with microscopic threads of kyoseil.”
He almost dropped the orb. “What? Is that your addition, or are you saying the Kats use kyoseil in the construction of the Rift Bubbles?”
“Ours. We don’t actually know what the Rift Bubble lattices are composed of. Something strong enough that we weren’t able to scrape a flake off for testing. So we scanned it with a spectrometer, then did our best to approximate the composition using the materials we best know how to man
ipulate.”
She rubbed her hands together in anticipation. “Do you think you can standardize the construction of these orbs? And maybe work on scaling them up? With a few iterative improvements, we could protect cities and, in time, entire planets, all on our own.”
He reached out to tuck a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear. “And that’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? For us to be able to protect ourselves, without having to rely on even the most generous benefactors.”
“It’s what we all want, isn’t it?”
“Yes. And yes, I can. I mean, I have zero labs not fully occupied with ongoing testing, and negative assembly lines available for production, but I can build more.”
51
* * *
CONCORD HQ
Command
Miriam stared at the message from Commander Palmer in dismay. It didn’t come as a surprise, as such, that the Rasu had stealth capabilities. But their apparent disinterest in using any such capabilities up to this point had at least improved her ability to track the enemy from ‘nigh impossible’ to ‘exceedingly difficult.’
But it appeared the enemy was changing the game again. In response to recent defeats at the hands of Concord and Asterion forces? They’d proved themselves swift to adapt to new circumstances. So now she’d need to find some other way to improve upon ‘nigh impossible.’
Stratagems and counter-stratagems.
She considered the other crucial detail from the message, then looked up at Richard, who sat across the desk from her. They’d been reviewing the information Pamela Winslow had provided on secret OTS donors and arguing about the invasiveness of Miriam’s protection detail when the Commander’s message had arrived.
“How many private vessels have gone missing in the last week? Commercial and cargo vessels in particular, but let’s keep a wide net for now.”
Richard held up a finger, and she waited for the few seconds it took for him to pull the data. “Twenty-eight vessels. Sixteen cargo, ten merchant, two personal craft.”
“And how does this compare to a similar time period from before the Rasu discovered our existence?”
His expression flickered in obvious curiosity, but he didn’t push for details yet…then his darkening expression suggested he’d just figured it out. “A two-hundred-eighty percent increase. But it’s a small sample size.”
“It’s large enough.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “The Rasu have started using stealth to capture Dominion freighters en route to their destinations. I think we have to assume they’ve been engaging in similar activities here, possibly ever since they arrived. Which means they know a great deal more about us than we’d previously estimated.”
She needed to act swiftly to mitigate the damage. First, she sent a message to Lakhes.
Praetor, I have a burdensome task to request of your people. We need to change the access code for all Rift Bubbles deployed in Concord space every forty hours. If you’ll provide me with the new code when they are changed, I’ll take care of distributing the information.
It will involve a modicum of work, as the number of deployed Rift Bubbles continues to increase, but we must all do our part. It will be done.
Thank you.
She shot Richard a grimace. “We’re going to be changing the Rift Bubble access code every forty hours.”
“In addition to changing the Concord security protocol codes? I’ve already whined about what a nightmare it is to do so, yes?”
“Yes, but this time it’s a nightmare for the individual planetary governments. Not us, for once.”
“Small favors.”
“The smallest. Next….” She activated the comm and put it on speaker. “Director Reynolds? I’ve got Director Navick here with me. The Rasu are starting to use stealth, but their unique energy signature isn’t completely masked. Can you engineer any way to increase our sensors’ sensitivity to their signature?”
“Not on hand, but give us a few hours. I doubt I can get more than a hundred-thirty-percent increase or so, though. That’s going to leave a lot of dead zones.”
“I realize it will. Do what you can. Oh, and I believe the Asterions are working on similar improvements to their sensors. Perhaps you can combine your efforts.”
“You do know that their technology works rather differently from ours, don’t you? Of course you do. I’ll pick their synthetic brains for anything useful.”
“Thank you.” She killed the comm and grimaced at Richard. “The DAF is now providing escorts to their freighters, but they only have a few dozen routes a day. We have tens of thousands. Covering them all will be a….”
“Nightmare? Miriam, you can’t be everything, everywhere, to everyone.”
“You’re right. I know you’re right. Damn this enemy! Fine, I’ll inform the Senators of the threat, and leave it to their governments to determine how and to what extent they can protect commercial space travel.”
Her gaze drifted past the viewport to the daisy-chained docking hubs and the glittering tori as they rotated by. Concord HQ was, by most definitions, the most secure space station ever constructed, excepting the Directorate’s Prótos Agora fortress. But as with life itself, security was an illusion. Every day, it hovered a single clever, unanticipated enemy maneuver away from being shattered.
She had a thought and reactivated the comm. “Director Reynolds, sorry to bother you again. Do you think it’s possible to create a signal blast capable of interfering with Rasu shapeshifting momentarily? Long enough for a ship that’s about to be swallowed to escape?”
“Oh, is that all? I have no idea, but I can put some brilliant minds on it.”
Richard smirked. “Letting the individual governments handle the problem, huh?”
She shot him a glare. “Director, the first request takes priority, but as and when your people get time, look into it. Maybe borrow some brainpower from the Asterions on this one, too.”
“Are you insinuating the Asterions are smarter than Prevos?”
“No. I’m insinuating that they have certain skill sets which might prove useful.”
“Skill sets like pooling their minds into a great cosmic gestalt to think faster and better than any single individual. Nah, good point. I am, yet again, on it. Also, having a cot brought into my office.”
“Thank you for all your efforts, Director.” She silenced the comm once more.
“Don’t let him fool you with his belly-aching. He’s having the time of his life.”
“I’m glad one of us is. All right.” She stood and retrieved her jacket from its hook. “It seems I need to schedule an emergency meeting with the Senate. Then, regrettably, with the AEGIS Council.”
52
* * *
THE PRESIDIO
Returning to the Presidio was like coming home in so many ways. Though in the grand scheme of her life, Miriam’s time here had been relatively brief, it had also been the first time she’d operated unbeholden to political entities and boards full of admirals. Here, she’d built the first incarnation of AEGIS from the ground up. There’d been no one to tell her she couldn’t, and so she did.
Unfortunately, any nostalgia she felt was about to get buried beneath a mountain of angst and rancor, for this visit wasn’t apt to be a pleasant experience. The people gathered in the summit conference room still held no power to tell her what she couldn’t do, but the reverse was also true, and they were under no real obligation to pay her advice any mind.
She succeeded in catching an empty lift from the Caeles Prism Hub, enabling her to spend a few quiet seconds centering herself on the task at hand. By the time she exited the lift and strode into the conference room, she projected only calm, measured professionalism.
The politicians were already arguing, talking over one another to such an extent that she was unable to grab hold of a thread and determine what they were arguing over. From one end of the half-circle dais, Malcolm offered her a pained grimace; even as the AEGIS Fleet Admiral, he didn
’t enjoy much more power in this room than she did. Senator Vranas was also looking somewhat perturbed, shooting the current Chairman of the Senecan Federation, Alberto Duca, a series of furtive frowns but failing to get a word in edgewise.
Prime Minister Gagnon belatedly noted her presence and raised his voice. “Commandant Solovy, thank you for coming on such short notice. If you’ll have a seat?”
She was fairly certain that she was the one who’d asked for the meeting, but the illusion of control mattered a great deal to politicians. She moved to an empty seat opposite the dais from Malcolm, nodding terse greetings to the others as she did.
Gagnon cleared his throat. “Everyone is here, so let’s begin. For those who don’t yet know, there’s been a tragic accident involving the Rift Bubble on Earth. A luxury cruiser had difficulty transmitting the access code and wasn’t granted passage through it.”
Oh. She would’ve appreciated a heads-up from someone. But again, she didn’t work for AEGIS or the Earth Alliance. In any event, this explained at least some of the urgent arguing, as the inevitable outcome of such an event didn’t need to be spelled out. “How many people died?”
“Twelve hundred forty-six.”
A breath escaped through her pursed lips. She didn’t ask how many of them were eligible for regenesis; the number was assuredly higher than zero due to the wealthy clientele of your average luxury cruiser, but the technology was only beginning to permeate its way into human society. “This is a tragedy. Do we have any details regarding what went wrong?”
“The Director of Operations of the company who owns the cruiser says the vessel didn’t receive the updated access code.”
“I did warn you about the logistical hurdles you would need to overcome—”
“And clearly we have not. One could argue they can’t be overcome, not with our overlapping governments and redundant layers of procedures.”
Gagnon wasn’t wrong about that.
All Our Tomorrows Page 30