All Our Tomorrows

by All Our Tomorrows (epub)

  The items confiscated from the apartment were still in storage. Maybe she could dig up some token offering for him. She checked the filing code, stood and headed for the lift.

  The evidence slot was on the very bottom floor, deep in the back. Stashed away and abandoned alongside cases far older than this one. Satair had known his people and his algorithm had fucked up, and he’d buried it.

  Down here, the air bordered on legitimately cold. Quiet, with a whiff of staleness. The province of dynes and forgotten stories.

  She pulled out the sealed box, placed it on the floor and sat beside it, then entered the lock code. Opening the lid revealed a jumbled pile of quantum cubes, storage containers and a few utility tools. All were banged up, and several bore aged scorch marks.

  After carefully rummaging around for a minute, she unearthed Frenton’s psyche storage unit. A sizeable dent marred one corner, and darkened streaks decorated two sides. But the exterior casing showed no signs of cracks; it appeared as if the interior hadn’t been breached. The unit was damaged for certain, but how badly? Was it possible…?

  She grasped the unit in both hands, closed her eyes and opened her senses. The tiniest vibration danced against her palms, so she held it up to her ear and listened…and told herself she heard a faint hum. The internal power supply keeping the data stored inside alive might still be functioning.

  Her chest fluttered as the waiting dilemma stared her down in the cold, silent catacomb. She could return the storage unit to the evidence box, return the evidence box to its slot, stand up and walk out of here. Leave the question unanswered and the mystery unsolved.

  The intensity with which her heart yearned to do exactly that took her by surprise. Did she genuinely care about Joaquim so much? They weren’t even in a relationship, not really. Granted, they’d spent four of the last seven nights together, but this was just sex.

  …But perhaps not just. Dammit.

  She took a moment to ignore her emotions and treat this as if it were a case. She examined her premises, asked questions of the evidence at hand and spun out likely scenarios if she moved forward on any of several potential paths.

  Her analysis led to the following conclusions: a number of potential results could unfold if she took the storage unit and had it analyzed; from her location sitting here on the floor, she wasn’t able to discern which one would ultimately play out. But if she left everything in its place and walked away, she’d never be able to look Joaquim in the eye again.

  So there it was. Decision made.

  She set the psyche storage unit on the floor beside her, repacked the other items more neatly and slid the evidence box back into its slot. Then she picked up the unit, stood and went upstairs to see the security officer.

  “I need to check an item out of evidence.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He entered a command in his interface, and a pane appeared in front of her. “Simply fill out the marked boxes—but you know what to do.”

  “I do.” She entered the case number, the evidence slot location and the tag on the storage unit before slipping it into her satchel. “Thank you for your help. Have a good day.”

  62

  * * *

  MIRAI

  Mirai One

  Selene took the storage unit to the Mirai Justice Division, since Adlai had given her carte blanche to use his facilities and resources while she was displaced.

  She was beginning to hate mooching off the other Justice Advisors for every single thing she needed to accomplish, but there was no alternative for now. All government and most private resources were being poured into fleet production and planetary defenses, and she had no basis to argue with the choice.

  Luckily, Erik Rhom, Adlai’s lead technical analyst, was working in the lab when she arrived. He enjoyed a stellar reputation within Justice, and she knew Adlai trusted him implicitly.

  “Advisor Panetier! This is a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?”

  She presented the storage unit to him. “This is a psyche storage unit confiscated in a Justice investigation on Synra some years ago. It’s listed as ‘damaged,’ which it clearly is, but I’m interested in learning precisely how damaged. Do you think you can take a look at it and see if it’s operable at all?”

  “Sure, I can spare a few minutes.” He took the unit from her and carried it over to a workstation, where he secured it in a stability frame and placed two fingers on a sensor pad. She settled into a chair by the door to wait, her thoughts dark with internal arguments.

  “Hey, Erik, can you—” Adlai stepped inside, then stopped when he saw her. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize you were here. Erik, carry on.” He shifted toward her. “Anything interesting going on?”

  She considered evading the question. He’d be satisfied with ‘forensics on a case of mine’ and not challenge her further. That was their arrangement. And it wasn’t her secret to share.

  But the mere fact that Joaquim didn’t like to talk about it didn’t make it a ‘secret.’ The case file was accessible to anyone with the necessary clearance—all Justice officials of Deputy grade and above, as well as any officers assigned to some aspect of the investigation. And getting the backstory should only soften Adlai’s inherent dislike of Joaquim, right?

  She shot him a rueful smile. “I’m sending you a file. You should give it a read.”

  He leaned on the doorframe and fell silent for several minutes. Finally he banged his head against the wall with a groan. “Satair truly was an unmitigated bastard.”

  “Yes, he was.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “None of us did. And Lacese didn’t…I had to dig this up myself.”

  Erik kicked his chair back from the workstation and toed it around to face them. “The casing’s structural integrity is pretty iffy, but it’s marginally holding together. All the data inside is intact, even the DNA and structure files.” He grinned, looking victorious. “We can wake this person up.”

  Her heart sank and buoyed at the same time. Saving lives was her job and her calling, but damn, this one was going to cost her. “This is excellent news. Thank you so much for your help.”

  Adlai stared at Erik, then at her. “But the file said it was irreparably damaged.”

  “Either Satair couldn’t be bothered to have it checked properly, or he lied. Either alternative seems as probable as the other.”

  “Gods, Selene. How many more situations like this are hiding in the Synra file warehouse?”

  “An excellent question. Spencer will need to open a review of all closed cases during Satair’s tenure.”

  Adlai nodded. “We’re meeting for a working lunch in a few minutes. I’ll talk to him about it.” His eyes slid over to the box sitting in the stability frame. “What are you going to do about this?”

  She stood with a heavy sigh. “My job, of course. I’m going to wake her up.”

  Adlai’s thoughts were troubled and tumultuous as he walked home from work that evening. He’d never believed Blake Satair was a particularly honest or honorable Justice Advisor, even before the Rasu and Satair’s role in the Guides’ betrayal came to light. But to allow—possibly foment—such a level of corruption and, to be honest, injustice inside the man’s own organization? Not once or twice, but for hundreds of years? He was so disgusted that he felt sick to his stomach.

  Spencer had readily agreed to institute a top-down review of all old Synra Justice cases starting in the morning. In time, the rot would be ferreted out and recompense would be attained by the victims…but not justice. Some crimes couldn’t be undone.

  Which led him directly to Joaquim Lacese. Nothing excused Lacese’s more egregious actions, but this revelation admittedly went a long way toward explaining them. What might the combination of the crushing weight of such a loss plus the abject helplessness to rectify it do to a man?

  It wasn’t much of a question, as he already had his answer. Lacese’s virulent hatred of Justice didn’t seem so incomprehensible now. At this
moment, Adlai hated Justice a little himself.

  No, this wasn’t right. He believed in its mission. In his mission. He believed Justice was a force for good in the world, one which helped to hold Asterion society together at the always fraying edges.

  The lesson to be learned here, if he was brave enough to learn it, was that the institution was not sacrosanct. It was only as strong as the men and women comprising it, and thus as vulnerable to flaws and outright failures as anything else.

  A life lost that didn’t have to be. Another life ruined for decades…that didn’t have to be. His thoughts merely had to flit across the notion of losing Perrin forever to feel gut-wrenching empathy for Lacese. Unable to find justice where the law said he must find it, if at all, the man had struck out at the world around him instead. And Adlai honestly couldn’t blame him.

  He opened the door to their apartment and was greeted with the warm, spicy scent of dinner-in-the-making. “Perrin?”

  “Welcome home! I’m in the kitchen.”

  He shrugged off his coat and found her tossing the contents of a wok in the air, surrounded by a haze of steam. “I’m making stir-fry.”

  “I can tell. What brought this on?” How long had it been since either of them had found the time or energy to actually cook a meal?

  She drove the spatula around the wok with fervor. “I had a really good day at the new refugee center today. I mean, there were a couple of tough encounters. People who are suffering. But I did everything I could to at least make their day better, if not their lives. The rest will come in time.

  “At the end of the day, I confess I was feeling drained and tired, and maybe a touch depressed. But then I said to myself, ‘No! I’m not going to collapse on the couch and wallow in sorrow until I go back out and torture myself all over again tomorrow. I did good today, and I’m going to reward myself. Reward us.’ So, stir-fry.” She beamed and tossed the wok’s contents again.

  “That’s wonderful. I’m proud of you.” His chest swelling with a fresh jumble of emotions, he went over and took the wok from her, setting it on the cooling area. Next, he wrapped her up in his arms and pressed his nose to hers. “I want to tell you something right now, and I hope you’ll hear and believe me.”

  “What is this? What’s up?”

  “I love you.”

  Her gaze slid away to scrutinize the wok. “I know you do….”

  “No, you don’t. I’ve been kind of an ass lately—about the up-gen, about how many hours you’re working, about, well mostly the up-gen—and I was wrong. I’m sorry.

  “I love you. I love the way you bring light and joy to my life. I love how the freckles on your nose stand out in the sun, and how your hair looks delightfully different every day. I love how you’re always pushing yourself, striving to be better. Not for selfish reasons, but for the world. I’ll eternally wish you weren’t so hard on yourself, because I think you’re perfect as you are, but I respect and understand why you do it. And from now on, I’ll support you in your choices, no matter what.”

  Her eyes glistened brightly amid the steam in the air as her eyelashes fluttered. She sniffled a little. “Why…what brought this on?”

  “I just had a reminder today that even in our extraordinary world, where we take so much for granted, life and love can still be fragile and fleeting. We have to grab hold of it while we can and not let go.”

  PART IV

  AWAKENINGS

  63

  * * *

  CONCORD HQ

  Special Projects

  Marlee bumped into Morgan as she was headed through the Special Projects entrance. The woman’s face lit up on seeing her, which was just splendid.

  “You were able to get away for a little while?”

  Marlee nodded. “I was. It was a simple matter of rearranging a few dozen deliverables and two appointments.”

  “What? That doesn’t sound simple at all. You didn’t have to go to so much trouble.”

  She shrugged lightly. “No trouble. I wanted to.”

  “All right. I appreciate the company. Let’s go see what Devon has in store for us today.”

  They cleared security and wound through the Special Projects labyrinth until they reached the Warfare Testing Suite way in the back.

  Devon glanced up when they entered and promptly groaned. “Ah, crap. We did have a session scheduled, didn’t we? Sorry, no can do.” He waved toward the wide coding screen displayed in front of him. “I don’t know if you heard, but the Rasu are using stealth now, and our illustrious leader has asked me to snap my fingers and magically imbue our fleet of deep space sensors with the ability to see through Rasu camouflage.”

  “What if you—”

  Devon thrust a hand out to interrupt Morgan. “Hush. I don’t need any ideas, at least not until I’ve tried and failed with the twelve ideas I currently have. Ideas aren’t the problem. Execution is the problem.”

  Morgan put her hands on her hips in defiance. “Well, I’m here, and I don’t require supervision. Simply point me toward what we were going to work on today before you got a directive from on high.”

  “Oh, fine. But please don’t break anything irreplaceable.” He pointed at a workstation in the far left corner of the lab. “Go check out the new Eidolon control software for the RNEW. I made the changes you requested, except for the one that was ludicrous. Run it through the paces so I can certify it and push it out before the Rasu get around to attacking somewhere truly important.”

  “What ludicrous request?”

  “You know the one I mean.”

  Morgan rolled her eyes at Marlee as they headed over to the workstation. “I genuinely don’t.”

  “Yeah, but I bet you’ll know what’s missing once you get in there and take it for a spin.”

  “Damn straight I will.” Morgan fired up the workstation and navigated through the lab’s file directory as if she worked here, which she kind of did now, and in seconds had located the Eidolon repository. She loaded up the control software, and Artificial-level code spun out across the workstation’s three screens.

  The woman’s irises glittered a dazzling amethyst as she studied the software. When Marlee realized she was staring, she diverted her gaze to the screens and tried to follow along with the code flow as well. She didn’t understand all of it, mostly the parts dealing with warship maneuvering and trajectory variability—a fighter pilot she was not—but she got the gist of much more than she would have even a year ago.

  “Oh! That change.” Morgan’s lips curled up in a hint of a smirk. “I suppose it was a tiny bit ludicrous.”

  Marlee burst out laughing, and after a beat, Morgan joined in.

  “Hey, quiet over there! I can’t perform magic when you two are giggling like schoolgirls!”

  Morgan dropped a hand on Marlee’s shoulder and urged her closer, until their heads were huddled together to muffle their laughing. Marlee was wearing a sleeveless turtleneck, and her bare skin burned where Morgan’s hand rested on it; her breath kept getting stuck in her throat, and not from too much laughter.

  Finally Morgan dropped her hand, leaving behind a void where it had lain, and refocused on the screens to study the software for another moment. “I won’t be able to say for certain until I run it through the sim, but it does appear to be a lot cleaner now.”

  Devon raised his voice from across the room. “I’ve got to go scavenge for components from the storage room. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Morgan tossed a hand in his direction, then regarded the nearby sim chair a little wearily. “I swear, my lower back still aches from my last session. I’m going to requisition plusher cushions.”

  Seeing an opportunity she’d been hoping for, Marlee forged ahead. “Um, if you’re not ready to get in the sim chair yet, would you mind terribly reviewing something for me?”

  “Sure. What is it?”

  “A programming upgrade I’ve been writing for my eVi. Seeing all the improvements you’ve made here—” Marlee
gestured to the screens “—I’m curious about your opinion of it. Your off-the-cuff take is all.”

  “Let’s have a look.”

  “Thanks.” She fetched the case out of her pocket, since she was carrying it around with her everywhere now, and inserted the small quantum cube into the workstation’s dock. The Eidolon software was replaced by new code on the screens.

  Morgan began inspecting it in the same manner as she’d reviewed the previous code, and Marlee tried not to fidget nervously. It felt as if she was baring her soul to the woman.

  After almost a minute, Morgan’s eyes cut over to Marlee, an intriguing glint lighting them beyond their normal Prevo luster. “This is a great deal more than an ‘eVi enhancement,’ isn’t it?”

  “It might be. What do you think?”

  “Stanley says he couldn’t write anything better. He’s calling you brilliant.”

  Her lips pursed to pull down a silly grin. “And you?”

  “I’m not a natural coder, but it seems damn clever to me. Say, do you mind if I take a quick glance at what you’re running now? I may—or rather Stanley may—be able to offer a suggestion or two if we can compare the updates to your existing software.”

  “You mean…?” Her hand went to the nape of her neck.

  “Surface-level scan only. I promise I won’t deep dive your secrets.”

  Oh, you can if you want to. She gathered her hair up off her neck. “Go right ahead.”

  The thought had started to occur to her that they didn’t have an external interface module handy when she felt two fingertips settle over her ports. Because Morgan wouldn’t need an interface. Direct connection. Skin on skin. She shuddered in delight.

  “Are you cold?”

  “No. I mean, it was just a chill.” Good thing Morgan couldn’t see her now-scarlet cheeks.