I drew up tight. “No, we cannot.”
“Every member of the Idryma—yes, even Iapetus—is a proven leader with millennia upon millennia of lived experience and earned wisdom. They are ready for the truth.”
“You were barely ready for the truth, Lakhes, and you are the best of us. With respect, they are not. If those secrets were revealed, it would shake the Idryma to its core, and we cannot afford to ignite such a crisis in the midst of our current one.”
“You give your colleagues too little credit, Mnemosyne.”
“No, I give them more. I want them working the Rasu problem with all of their anima. Thus I will protect them from what would weaken them, as I have always done.”
“It might strengthen their resolve to know the truth.”
I wavered. Was Lakhes correct? Once upon a time, I had valued truth above all else. Then I had taken the burden of preserving that truth upon myself, and with it the necessity of keeping it from everyone else. Was I arrogant in holding to it like a martyr now?
No. I had known matters stood to become both more difficult and more delicate at this juncture. After so long, I could not falter now. “Perhaps, perhaps not, but we can’t take the risk. You above all should realize we dare not throw everything into tumult. The Idryma must be at its strongest to win this war. Thus you and I must be strong for the others.”
Lakhes remained silent for a lengthy span, for it had always considered issues deeply before deciding upon a course of action. Finally, my dear friend and, at this moment, sole confidant, settled into a peaceable stance. “Very well. You’ve made your case. Maybe I simply yearn for additional colleagues with whom to share this burden. But I, like you, do not enjoy that luxury. We will see this through your way.”
“Thank you—” An alert intruded upon my thoughts, and I gathered my presence in close. “Pardon me, but I must see to a matter.” I departed without further fanfare.
58
* * *
FANEROS STELLAR SYSTEM
Carina Dwarf Galaxy
Eren gazed down at the planet below from the cockpit of his new ship. Well, not his ship exactly. More of a ship bestowed upon him by the Anaden Advocacy for his use so long as he acted as Chief of Intelligence for Non-Anaden Affairs. It was even smaller than the CINT vessel he and his team had used, with no lower-level living space and only a drop-out cot in the main cabin for sleeping. But every centimeter of it was straight-up quality—Anaden construction at its finest, as befitting a highish-level government official.
He snorted aloud at the notion of himself as any level of government official, never mind one occupying the upper ranks. Mind you, the ‘government’ in question currently consisted of less than a hundred people in total, and all of four formal ranks existed at present. But, hey, he was in on day one.
Which kind of made him feel…ye gods below, was this pride? Surely not. Fine, perhaps pride in being able to help someone he respected try—and almost certainly fail—to build a better future for the species he was cursed to belong to. He’d give himself that much, but anything more would have to wait for a spell.
He returned his attention to the planet he orbited. Its soft, muted palette of whites and grays, with accents of pale mauve and lavender, reminded him of the marbles used in pithanot games. Fitting, as much of the planet’s surface was in fact covered in marble, quartz and crystal. He knew this because he’d visited it before, and also because he’d regularly tapped into the Concord monitoring probes in place above every world inhabited by a Protected Species.
The feed to his left displayed a mid-altitude visual of the Faneros’ largest city. Its perpetual dusk gave the setting a gauzy, dreamy appearance. Cast against it, the meandering residents’ skin was as luminescent as their glittering robes upon the shadowy blue-gray sky. So lovely.
He opened himself to the waiting panic attack, to the hyperventilation and terror that had accompanied previous visits to this place…but it never arrived. Curious.
Almost as if he were egging his darker nature on, he forced himself to remember the fateful night over a century ago, when a Faneros had been his awarded plaything for the evening. When their innocent purity had sent him running away in horror, abandoning his life and all he’d known to tumble into the arms of the anarchs.
He drowned himself in the memory out of a perverse masochism. But still the panic attack didn’t come.
Eventually a measure of acceptance arrived. This must be a gift Cosime had bestowed upon him: forgiveness. Not hers, though she had absolutely done that in spades, but the capacity to forgive himself. To acknowledge his past mistakes while recognizing how he’d grown past them, of his own volition. Had made better, more honorable choices, and in doing so, transformed himself into a (slightly) better person.
Standing here watching the terrestrial feed, he accepted this was a victory, if solely over himself. He wished it made him happier, but happiness remained far beyond the horizon. He settled for grateful.
A burst of light brightening the cabin behind him sent him leaping against the dash and reaching for a weapon—but it was only a Kat. An agitated one, by the looks of it. “Mesme?”
It is I. I need to urgently warn you—please do not attempt to descend to the planet’s surface.
“I…wasn’t planning on it.”
Oh. The swirling lights calmed to a more languid rhythm. This is welcome news. The planet is protected by one of our Rift Bubbles. Should any ship come into contact with its barrier, it would find itself incinerated by the system’s star in a most unpleasant manner. Thus, we are monitoring such planets for accidental incursions, and your arrival set off an alarm. I was concerned that you might not be aware of the Rift Bubble’s presence. Or worse, that you were aware of it.
“You were afraid I was ramping up for another kamikaze suicide run.”
There has been a pattern of behavior.
Eren chuckled dryly. “There definitely has been. But, no. Not today.” He pushed past the twinge of despair flaring in his chest. “I did know about the Rift Bubble, though.” He tapped an animated section of the HUD. “Concord’s broadcasting a warning on its public vicinity channel.”
I see. Naturally, they are. I should have accounted for this likelihood.
“Nah. It’s nice of you to be vigilant about not killing us.”
You are using sarcasm.
“Only a little. Seriously, it is an honorable gesture on your part. Thank you for looking out for me. And everyone else.”
Then you are welcome. Mesme vacillated. When we last visited the Faneros together, it was not a pleasant experience for you. Can I ask why you have returned?
“To see if it would still be an unpleasant experience for me.”
And?
“I can’t say as I’m having a grand time, but…I’m doing okay.”
This brings me relief. I experienced great concern for you on the day in question.
“Sorry I worried you. I do that a lot, don’t I?”
At a higher frequency than is average for those about whom I care, yes.
“Wait—are you saying you care about me? About anyone, for that matter? I didn’t think Kats were into that sort of thing.”
More so than you will ever realize.
“I don’t mean as species, in the sense of, ‘I care about all peace-loving sentient beings and want them to survive as a people.’ I mean as individuals.”
I understand precisely what you mean, Eren. Yes, to both.
“Huh. Well, don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”
Thank you.
Eren glanced back at the feed, noting a group of Faneros who gathered together in what looked like frivolity, complete with drinks and some dancing. It was good they did such things. “So, how are things for you? The Kats off doing Kat things to help defeat the Rasu?”
Yes, if with far greater consternation and disquiet than I prefer. The rapid advancement of the Asterions’ military capabilities has many in the Idryma experienci
ng cardiovascular palpitations.
“You paint quite a picture. But what would be the point of extradimensional lights having a heart attack?”
We do have physical bodies.
“Alex did mention it at some point. But they’re more like vestiges than functioning bodies, right?”
It is true they are generally of no consequence to us, but we can function in them when it is required. And in point of fact, our stasis chambers would never allow the bodies they nurture to experience a heart attack. Nevertheless, it was a good joke, yes?
Eren laughed. “Yes. A very good joke. Well done. It’s interesting that the Asterions are causing such anxiety among you lot. I’ve heard some intriguing things about them, but they don’t sound particularly scary. Haven’t met any yet, myself.”
The lights quavered. What?
“I haven’t met any Asterions yet.”
Of course. You have been engaged in your own trials since they introduced themselves to Concord.
“ ‘Trials.’ Yes, you could say so. I think Caleb and Alex have made friends with one of them, though.”
Nika Kirumase.
“That’s the name. Maybe I’ll meet her one day.”
I feel certain you will.
Eren sighed. “All right. I think I’m ready to declare ‘mission accomplished’ here. Time for me to get back to work.”
And for myself as well.
He jerked his head toward the viewport. “Make sure and keep the Faneros safe from the Rasu, will you?”
We kept them safe from the Directorate for a century. We can do no less for them now.
59
* * *
MIRAI
DAF Military Services Center
Nika considered Lance from across the table as she washed down a bite of almond-crusted basti with a sip of water. “Any signs of Rasu snooping around Adjuncts Rei or San since we kicked them out?”
“None so far. They appear to be devoting all their efforts in our territory to acquiring what kyoseil they can steal.”
“When we destroyed the stronghold, I hoped it would be the end of their kyoseil fascination. But I suppose it was a pipe dream.”
Beside her, Dashiel refilled his salad from the communal bowl at the center of the table. This was a working dinner at the DAF Military Services Center, and the meal had been delivered by a friendly local restaurant. “They’ve been deliberately going after shipments from Chosek, and only Chosek, which definitely means they’re targeting the kyoseil again. It’s possible they rediscovered our unique composition by…” he shuddered “…studying people they captured on Namino and the Adjunct Worlds.
“But an equally likely scenario? Rasu vessels absent from the stronghold—scouting, patrolling, whatever—fled to the nearest concentration of Rasu in another galaxy and shared information about what their brethren had been working on here.”
Nika sighed in resignation. “We knew we must have missed a few Rasu that were scattered around the Gennisi galaxy, so it shouldn’t be a surprise. The best we can hope for is that the far-flung vessels didn’t possess all the details on the stronghold’s research, and now they’re starting essentially from scratch.”
Dashiel patted her hand in encouragement. “They won’t have any more luck this time around. We both appreciate how tightly the kyoseil guards its secrets.”
“Gods know that’s the truth.” She took a bite of basti and prepared to launch into a bitter complaint about how resistant the kyoseil was to her every overture, nudge and pleading inquiry…then remembered how Dashiel got to listen to those complaints nearly every night and decided to give him a breather. “How’s the rollout of the new renewable negative energy weapons going?”
“Too slowly—”
“Quite well—”
They talked over one another, each expressing the sentiments matching their approaches to the world. She chuckled. “About as expected, then?”
Lance shot Dashiel a weak glare, but nodded. “We’ve installed them on eighty percent of our cruisers and sixty-two percent of frigate-class warships.”
“And we’ve integrated them into the manufacturing lines, so now they’re coming pre-installed on all ships of both classes. As a next step, we’re looking at ways to incorporate them into smaller and specialty craft.” Dashiel smiled. “Oh, and we also gave the weapon a name: RNEW. I’m told that ‘renewable negative energy weapon’ is too much of a mouthful to bark repeatedly during combat operations.”
The acronym filled itself in without difficulty; simple and straightforward. “I’m guessing you didn’t let Parc name it, then.”
Lance grunted. “Hells, no. He wanted to call it the ‘HyperBlaster 3000’ or some nonsense.”
“Of course, he did. Well, this is fantastic. If the Rasu ever decide to hit us in force again, they’ll find themselves on a very different battlefield.”
“True,” Dashiel responded. “Right now, they seem to be turning their attention to Concord, but we’ve always been the prize they covet most. They’ll be back.”
“Also, our fleet will soon be large enough for us to help out in Concord battles, yes?”
Lance hesitated briefly. “I’m loathe to spare any ships from our planetary defenses, but yes, I have to concede we’re in danger of having some to spare. And given all that Concord’s done for us lately, we ought to begin returning the favor.”
An officer stuck her head in the door. “Sorry to bother you. Advisor Kirumase, a Senator Corradeo from Concord would like to speak with you.”
“He’s here now? On the premises?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He was certainly getting nimble at navigating Asterion planets. Cities. D-gates. She reluctantly folded her napkin on the table. “I guess I should go see the Supreme Commander.”
Lance snorted. “I’d make him wait.”
“And that’s why you’re a soldier, not a diplomat. Please, finish eating without me. Hopefully, I’ll be back in time for dessert.”
Corradeo Praesidis waited in the small guest lobby on the first floor. Lance jokingly referred to it as ‘the quarantine room,’ but it was well-appointed and welcoming enough, at least for a military installation.
When she arrived, he extended a hand in greeting. “Advisor Kirumase, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”
Nika shook his hand but dodged the response. “How is the Concord Senate treating you?”
“As all senates do—with a knife poised at my back and a hefty stack of rulebooks weighing down my desk.”
“Sounds lovely. So, what brings you to the Dominion today?”
He clasped his hands behind him and began strolling across the lobby. “I’ve begun a number of initiatives at home aimed at repairing and rebuilding Anaden society. Yet I can’t help but feel as if any such rebuilding will be incomplete if it doesn’t include mending our relationship with you, our Asterion cousins.
“Now, I realize this will not be an easy or quick path to traverse, so I want to get started as soon as possible. Let us take our first steps toward healing the divide between our people, shall we?”
She kept a diplomatic façade locked on her features while she considered his surprising entreaty. She’d cajoled herself into accepting his existence in her world as something other than an enemy, but the thought of actively working alongside him to build a friendship between their governments—between their citizens—made her positively queasy. Plus, she legitimately had two full plates’ worth of work every waking hour; there was simply no room in her schedule for this manner of difficult, minefield-laden diplomacy.
She should introduce him to Cameron or Terry or— oh. Epiphany.
What about connecting him with someone who could charm the paint off a wall, find the beauty and pleasure in the worst of situations, and was in dire need of a distraction right now?
She transitioned her expression to a diplomatic smile. “Senator, I regret to say that at present, I do not have the bandwidth to shepherd along the kind of p
roject you’re proposing. However, I have a friend who I believe will be an excellent partner for you in this endeavor. I’ll put you in touch with her right away, and I wish you the best of luck. Perhaps in time, we truly can mend our relationship, as equals.”
60
* * *
MIRAI
Mirai Tower
A bipedal machine showed Corradeo into an expansive office suite near the pinnacle of the soaring building situated at the center of the city.
Across the office, an expansive wall of windows looked out on downtown and the harbor it framed. Art and sculptures adorned much of the space, displaying a wide range of styles and mediums. The furniture conveyed elegance, though it was of a simpler and more practical design than what one found in, say, the home of a wealthy Novoloume aristocrat.
A woman stood on the other side of a long, bare marble desk, her back facing him. She wore a flowing lavender silk pantsuit, and a mane of tight obsidian curls flowed down to her shoulders.
Then she turned around, and Corradeo’s’ breath caught in his throat. In his many journeys, he’d encountered beauty in all its infinite incarnations, but possibly never in such a complete tableau as this. Perfect ebony skin accentuated unusual eyes of violet and white, and those obsidian curls tickled exquisite cheekbones, a tapered jaw and full lips.
She was, without question, a strikingly beautiful woman. But he’d wrangled many beautiful women to his purposes in the million years of his life.
A storm cloud swept across the woman’s features the instant her gaze settled on him. “They told me you’d returned, real and in the flesh, but I confess I could not bring myself to believe them.”
Corradeo was unaccountably uncertain of how to respond. Asterions were always catching him off guard. “Forgive me, but I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”
“I suppose not.” The woman’s odd, enchanting pupils constricted. “You might remember my parents, Valerian and Salash Idoni.”
All Our Tomorrows Page 33