All Our Tomorrows

by All Our Tomorrows (epub)

  The privacy glass posed no impediment to her, and she effortlessly projected her consciousness through the barrier and inside.

  In a stroke of luck, the owner and subject of her interest was currently at home. He stood in the center of an expansive room dotted with couches, surrounded by a maze of slowly rotating aurals. The setup reminded her of how the Praesidis Primor had preferred to ‘work,’ and she shuddered at the visual the scene evoked.

  The man’s natural mien, when he thought no one was watching, was cold and harsh, and only his delicate bone structure prevented it from coming across as downright brutish.

  Aren’t you supposed to be investigating potential Rasu strongholds in nearby galaxies?

  She rolled her eyes, probably. Valkyrie had been keeping closer tabs on her since the events on Ireltse; in fairness, though, she’d been doing the same. Technically. And I will. Arguably, I should also be trying to figure out what’s up with the Reor and Caleb and I. But while the Rasu’s grand strategy remains a mystery, their tactics are pretty well set and identified. Divining their secret purpose will ultimately help us bring an end to the war, yes, but it’s not going to change the dynamics in the short term. So it can keep until we head out to do some in-person research in a few days. And the Reor mystery is an intellectual exercise at best, a vanity project at worst. It, too, can keep.

  But this guy? He’s a clear and present danger today.

  Her stomach churned as she studied the man. She didn’t care who his parents were or how wealthy he was. He was a thug and a bully, and he’d tried to murder her mother for political gain. For this, she would contribute to taking him down however she could.

  While he continued to scroll through his aurals, she sent her consciousness wandering around the compound. Behind the kitchen lay a second living area…but not as spacious of one as the building’s frame would suggest. Curious at what the layout was hiding, she drifted through a door in the rear and into a state-of-the-art server storage room. Dim, cool lighting cast the equipment in shadow, punctuated by the pervasive glow of active quantum machinery.

  Damn. He is packing some serious hardware in here. How many Artificials is he running? Or his own private exanet? A galaxy-wide surveillance network?

  I’m unable to determine the purpose of the hardware from a visual scan, but I am noting the model designations of the equipment where possible. Investigating their specs and how the manufacturers market them may lead to a few answers.

  Good thinking. Alex meandered down the server-lined aisle to the end. She’d hoped for another secret room, but this time found only walls. So, while we’re here enjoying ourselves, do you want to talk about Thomas?

  I haven’t decided yet.

  Ooh. Is it that serious, then?

  I haven’t decided yet.

  She chuckled soundlessly. The amount of time it took Artificials to ‘decide’ most matters could be measured in microseconds, so it was quite intriguing that Valkyrie continued to hesitate after…what, weeks?

  Fair enough. In all seriousness, though, you know I’m here for you if you want to talk. Granted, I’ve only gotten love right once in my life, and I’m still not clear on how I managed it, so I’m definitely not the best source of advice in this respect. On the other hand, no one knows your heart the way I do. So I’m happy to listen. I’ll even try to keep the snarky comments to a minimum.

  I find this exceedingly difficult to believe.

  Hey, I said ‘try.’

  So you did. Thank you for the offer, but I’m honestly not certain what I want to say, much less feel. Thomas shares in much of what drives me—my adoration of the stars and knowledge and exploration and action—and for now, this is enough.

  Wow, it really might be serious.

  I heard that.

  Sorry. Shall we check back in on Mr. Vilane?

  Yes, please.

  She directed her consciousness out of the server room, through the kitchen and into the main living area, to find Vilane had swiped away the majority of the aurals to concentrate on one large display. She honed in her presence until it resided directly beside him, his shoulder encroaching on her space when he inhaled.

  She focused on the display, only to realize it was artificially blurred. Valkyrie, I think Mr. Vilane is running some sort of anti-Prevo surveillance field. Is there anything we can do to get around it?

  As a Prevo himself, it makes sense that he’ll be warding against sidespace observation. A moment. I have identified the origination point of the field.

  Alex followed the field’s propagation back to its source, which turned out to be a small circular module installed beneath the control panel outside the server room.

  In the early days, Prevos hadn’t been able to affect the real world from sidespace. Then Devon had crashed through that barrier in an explosion of desperation-driven power; not long thereafter, she had built upon his breakthrough to unlock the secret to opening wormholes through the fabric of space-time. So, it was cute that Vilane believed he could protect himself from her inquiries.

  She sent out a weak but targeted filament of power to envelop the module, then increased its strength until a single circuit, buried deep in the module’s structure, shorted out. There.

  Nicely done. With luck, he won’t notice the field has malfunctioned for some time.

  And when he does, it will look like a design flaw. Now, where were we? She returned her consciousness to the living area to see what Vilane was working so hard to hide.

  The display he studied was divided into a calendar, a security interface, and a chat panel.

  She didn’t know the names invoked, and several references were obviously code words for nefarious plans and targets, but after a few seconds of reading, the nature of the ongoing chat became evident. A major strategy meeting among high-level Gardiens officers was being scheduled for seven days from now, and even coded, the topics on the agenda sounded damn interesting.

  Let’s forward these names, code words and calendar entries to Richard for analysis.

  Done.

  She was about to take a tour of the rest of the penthouse and see what she could see when a gentle alarm in her eVi reminded her that she had real-world things to do today.

  You haven’t seen the last of me, Mr. Vilane. With a regretful sigh she returned her consciousness to her body and opened her eyes.

  On the way to the shower, she sent Malcolm a pulse.

  A big Gardiens strategy session is being held next week on Pandora. If you meant what you said to Richard about wanting to take Vilane down, find a way to get yourself invited to that meeting.

  56

  * * *

  CONCORD HQ

  CINT

  When his ring at Richard’s office went unanswered, Caleb stopped by the CINT lobby to inquire as to the man’s whereabouts. The receptionist directed him to one of the conference rooms down the hall and didn’t caution him about it being a no-interruptions meeting, so Caleb rang the buzzer outside the room.

  The door slid open. He stepped halfway inside and waved at Richard, who was leaning back in the chair at the head of the table. “If you’re not too busy, I wanted to—”

  “Caleb!” Felzeor launched himself off the top of the table and landed in a flurry of feathers on Caleb’s shoulder. “What a wonderful surprise!”

  He laughed, his mood instantly buoyed by the unexpected appearance of his friend, and reached up to scratch Felzeor’s neck. “Yes, it is. How are you doing?”

  “Good. I’ve missed you, though.” Felzeor cooed in pleasure, twisting his head around to finagle the best scratching angle.

  “I’ve missed you, too.” He gestured to the table. “Why don’t we sit?”

  “If we must.” Felzeor gave his wings a flap and returned to the table, and Caleb sat to Richard’s right.

  “How are things?”

  He’d nominally directed the question to Richard, but Felzeor jumped in to answer. “I’m here giving Director Navick a status update.
I’ve been on a mission with Drae.”

  “Oh? What kind of mission?”

  Felzeor’s emerald eyes slid around. “It’s a secret….”

  “Caleb has Level III clearance.”

  Felzeor tilted his head to the side. “Which means…I can tell you! We’ve been investigating known associates of Janice ela-Kyvern, Ferdinand’s mole in CINT. We’re trying to identify members of Ferdinand’s old conspiracy, so we can arrest them and dismantle the whole nefarious mess once and for all.”

  Caleb nodded approvingly. “This is important work.”

  “It is. I’m proud to do it.”

  He glanced at Richard. “Eren’s ferreting out rebellious elements for Corradeo as well. They might be interested in whatever you find.”

  Richard flicked a finger, and an aural materialized between them. It contained a long, dry-looking legal contract. “The Advocacy officially signed on to our Information-Sharing Protocols for Concord Members yesterday. I’ve already reached out to Eren to see how we can help each other.”

  Felzeor pattered around the table in a display of tension. “I enjoy working with Drae, but I miss Eren terribly. Do you think this means he’ll be coming back to work here soon?”

  Richard shook his head. “Eren worked for Corradeo Praesidis for a century in the anarch cause. Now that the man is building a new Anaden leadership structure from the ground up, I suspect Eren has found his home.”

  “You’re probably right.” Felzeor’s beak dipped low.

  Caleb wasn’t certain Eren would ever consider himself “home” anywhere, but he’d been reassured by the amount of empathy Corradeo was showing the man. Perhaps Eren could find a meaningful direction there.

  He reached out and stroked Felzeor’s feathers. “Hey, I have an idea. Missions allowing, why don’t we set up a regular monthly dinner with Eren at my house? More than dinner—an entire afternoon and evening of hanging out and catching up.”

  “Most excellent!” Felzeor nearly took flight again. “Can we do it tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow might be a little too soon to mesh with everyone’s schedules. How about…the 5th of every month?”

  “In eight days, then? Okay. Oooh, can Marlee come, too?”

  “Sure. We can even do a short group training session, if you want to.”

  “Yes. Training with her is fun.”

  He smirked a bit wryly. “That’s one word for it. I’ll reach out to Eren and Marlee to confirm the date.”

  “Thank you, Caleb! I can’t wait. Director Navick, did you need any more information from me today? I have a lunch date with Thelkt in the Atrium shortly.”

  “I believe we are all done. Give Drae my thanks, and let him know about the items we discussed.”

  “Yes. Goodbye, sir.” Felzeor hopped onto Caleb’s forearm for a final scratch. “I will see you next week!”

  “Yes, you will. Now, off you go.”

  Felzeor rose into the air, hovered by the door panel to open it with a tap of a claw, then disappeared out and down the hall.

  Caleb smiled. “He seems as if he’s doing better.”

  “Work gives him purpose. Also, less time for wallowing in grief. He enjoys contributing—and he is. I don’t know what I’m going to do about the team, though. Drae has nixed every potential teammate I’ve suggested. He and Felzeor are fine for short-term surveillance missions like the one they’re on now, but…but that’s a problem for another day.” Richard clasped his hands on the table. “What’s up?”

  “I wanted to see what you’ve learned about the assassin.”

  “Thanks to you, quite a lot. A name, for one: James Sarona. Ex-Federation Special Forces. He was dishonorably discharged four years ago after an inquiry found he unnecessarily endangered civilian lives during a clandestine op.”

  “Sounds like someone Vilane would scoop up. Have you arrested him yet?”

  “We have not.”

  Caleb started working up a protest—

  “Believe me, no one wants him in a cell more than I do. Well, except possibly David. But if we bring him in, we risk tipping off the Gardiens to the fact we know they were behind the assassination attempt. And what I want even more than Sarona locked up is to tear apart the entire operation, from top to bottom. I want Vilane, then I want his lieutenants. So we’re watching Sarona very carefully. We’ll let him lead us to others who are operating on the illegal side of the Gardiens, and we’ll chase them up the chain.”

  He wanted to argue, but he had to concede it was the best strategy under the circumstances. “Let me know if you need an assist when you bring him down. Not that your people aren’t fully capable of doing so, of course.”

  “When we bring down Sarona, or Vilane?”

  “Either.”

  “Are you in that business again?”

  Akeso murmured a quiet protest in the depths of his mind. “No, I am not. But I will do whatever I can to protect Miriam from these scumbags. Mia, too. So if it comes to it, I’m thinking an exception can be made.”

  57

  * * *

  KATOIKIA TAIRI

  Idryma

  Cetus Dwarf Galaxy

  Iapetus darted about the ethereal overlay of the gathering chamber, forcing its presence into every nook and cranny. “The Asterions are taking our meticulously perfected defensive technology and using the Rasu as an excuse to run rampant with it. To create instruments of mass destruction.”

  Lakhes made a calming gesture from the center point of the room. “The Asterions have been relentlessly attacked by the Rasu, and they deserve to defend themselves in whatever manner they can conjure. Thus far, their efforts appear to be focused on the goal of preserving their civilization, not one of conquest or enslavement.”

  “They surely remain Anadens at heart, and if they are not constrained now, they will in time rise to become despots in the image of their ancestors.”

  Iapetus was rankling me more than usual today, and I found I could hold my words no longer. I increased my presence in the room appropriately. “They will not.”

  “What gives you the authority to assert this, Mnemosyne? Because you have had a few conversations with their leaders? Because they tell you they have peaceful intentions, and their appeals find a sympathetic audience in your too-sentimental nature?”

  “Because they do have peaceful intentions. As the Praetor remarked, they want only to defend themselves from annihilation. That is our purpose as well, is it not? To protect all innocent species from annihilation?”

  “Yes—even from each other. I still say they can’t be trusted. They will reveal their rotten Anaden nature before the end.”

  “You know nothing, Iapetus.”

  “I know the rotting evil at the core of the Anaden soul.”

  There was a time when I’d believed that Iapetus had matured to see the errors in its reactionary, too-narrow worldview. Clearly I’d been mistaken. “Nonsense. No species is monolithic. Need I remind you that the Directorate was the source of the vast majority of Anaden atrocities? It is dead and gone, and the Anadens are now our allies.”

  “We have no allies—we cannot afford the risk of having them. We have partners of convenience, when and where we share similar goals. Even under that standard, the Anadens scarcely qualify.”

  I worked to hold my tongue, for I teetered on the edge of losing control, and I should not sink to Iapetus’ level. Instead, I pleaded silently with Lakhes to set the correct tone on this matter.

  Seemingly hearing my plea, Lakhes spread its presence until it filled the center of the chamber. “Ten years ago, we agreed to become Allied Members of Concord. Thus by definition, we are allies of all Concord species. We share common cause with them, and I do not expect this to change in the foreseeable future. I recognize it can be difficult to adjust to the new reality. We spent hundreds of millennia fighting the Anaden Directorate alone. We risked life and spirit to protect those weaker than us, acting as a shield against those stronger. We lived lies in public and trut
hs only in secret, for so, so long.

  “But the world has changed, and we need to change with it. Now we are united against a mutual foe, and we can’t allow distrust and enmity to spread among our ranks in this fight. This includes our approach to the Asterions. They, too, are our allies, and I believe they have evolved well beyond their Anaden origins. They are powerful, yes, and growing more so with each passing day. But they will not turn on us.”

  Iapetus diminished and sank toward the wall.

  Lakhes allowed the retreat without comment. “Let us proceed to the next matter. Hyperion, do you bring news to report?”

  My old foe and current…somewhat less of a foe…swept out from among the ranks. “I do. We have completed construction on the first installment of a new fleet of superdreadnoughts. The ships are equipped with weapons better suited to counter the Rasu. Three hundred sixty of them are ready to deploy to the next battle, when and where it occurs, and we shall continue to increase their numbers.”

  I waited for Hyperion to interject its own take on the argument, but it did not arrive. It was possible Hyperion, at least, had learned a few lessons since its days shepherding the Aurora Enisle.

  Lakhes rewarded Hyperion for its good behavior. “Excellent news. Thank you, Hyperion, for your tireless efforts on this project. As we have discussed at length, we must do everything within our power to protect Concord and defeat this enemy. A new fleet will be indispensable in the fight. Now, if there is nothing else, we will adjourn.”

  I flitted around Lakhes’ private quarters in agitation. “Iapetus has always been a reckless and irresponsible voice among us. We can’t permit it to turn the tide of opinion against the Asterions. The result would be a disaster beyond reckoning.”

  Lakhes continued to radiate the calm it had displayed during the session. It was but one reason why Lakhes was the Praetor and I was not. “We could tell the others the truth.”