All Our Tomorrows

by All Our Tomorrows (epub)

  68

  * * *

  MIRAI

  Hataori Renewal Clinic

  Joaquim was heading up the steps to the clinic’s entrance when Selene exited the doors. She waved him down as she veered toward the landing off to the left. While following her, he couldn’t help but notice how her gait lacked its usual no-nonsense, driven purpose.

  When he reached her, he started to lean in and kiss her, then stopped himself. Whatever they might or might not be, they were not at the ‘publicly affectionate’ stage. “Hi. Did you have a good morning?”

  Her lips twitched downward. “It was…challenging. You?”

  “Ryan’s gotten me roped into building this new dyne mech prototype for Palmer. The trouble is, he’s making up new components for it that don’t actually exist. I may be a gearhead at heart, but I’m a tinkerer, not an inventor. And yet, here I am, inventing. Almost certainly doing a poor job of it.” He peered up at the signage curiously. “Why are we meeting at the clinic? Did you sneak in an up-gen? I hope you didn’t presume to schedule one for me. My last one is still stretching its legs and settling in.”

  “No, I—no.” She abruptly broke the ‘not publicly affectionate’ rule and took his hands in both of hers. “Joaquim, I went to Synra and looked into the incident at your apartment there. With Cassidy.”

  “You…” he drew roughly out of her grasp, stumbling back a step “…I didn’t tell you her name.”

  “You didn’t need to. I know yours, and I have access to all historical Justice cases.”

  “How dare you. You didn’t have the right to invade my privacy like that!” He spun to storm off; dammit, he’d known hooking up with her was a disastrous idea, and he’d done it anyway. Served him right for thinking with his cock.

  “Joaquim, wait!”

  He pivoted again, burning indignation fueling his movements. “Why? Why should I listen to a fucking thing you have to say? I obviously can’t trust you. I never could.”

  “Because you want to hear this. Please.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest in a huff, but he didn’t leave. Furious as he was, walking away from her was always so damn hard. “Talk.”

  “I went to the storage warehouse at the Synra Justice Center and reviewed all the evidence. Cassidy’s psyche backup? It was damaged in the raid, yes—but the data it held remained intact. Now, I can’t say if Satair’s people were simply sloppy, or if something more rotten was going on inside his organization. It doesn’t matter now. He’s dead and gone. But the point is….”

  The logical pathways of his brain jammed up as thoughts shot off in every direction. He inhaled carefully as his pulse rocketed. When he spoke, his voice was low and terribly shaky. “The point is what, Selene? What are you trying to tell me?”

  Her eyes dropped to consider the stairs. “Our policy is unambiguous on this matter. When someone is damaged severely enough to be rendered nonfunctional during a Justice operation and is later cleared of all wrongdoing, it is Justice’s responsibility to, at its own expense…regen them.”

  His gaze shot to the front door of the clinic. His mouth opened, but any words he wanted to utter remained trapped in his throat.

  “They’re clearing her now. The regen was a success, so she should be discharged in the next few minutes. Why don’t you go on inside. She’ll be exactly as she was in the days before the raid. But she doesn’t know what happened or how much time has passed, so she’s going to be confused. She’ll need you.”

  Inside? Cassidy was… inside?

  Inside. One foot in front of the other, past Selene, up the stairs. Slowly, to give his mind time to catch up and process the impossibility of what was happening here.

  The door opened as a patron departed, and he half-staggered through it into the sterile, clean lobby of the clinic. He stopped a few meters inside and just stood there, his mind and body locked up. Definitely several short-circuits had fired off in his brain. Honestly, it might never function correctly again. Of course, some would say it never had in the first place.

  “Excuse me, sir? Can I help you?”

  The voice had come from the dyne behind the reception desk. “I’m…waiting on someone.”

  “I see. You can take a seat.”

  “I think I’d prefer to stand.”

  The dyne didn’t bother him further, though he must have looked strange, standing there rooted to the floor in the middle of the lobby.

  He had no idea how much time had passed when the interior doors opened and—

  Loose blonde curls framing a heart-shaped face. Cornflower-blue irises and full, rosy lips. Features a little softer than he remembered. A curvy figure and alabaster skin. A touch on the short side. He’d always needed to lean down to kiss her.

  The dam broke in his mind, and a century of memories came flooding back to drown him. Because now they could.

  “Joaquim! Hey.” Cassidy hurried over and embraced him, and he lost all capacity for breath. The next thing he knew, he was hugging her against his chest with all the strength he possessed. She smelled like a regen lab, antiseptic mixed with fresh linen.

  “You’re squeezing me too tight.” She wiggled in his grasp until he relinquished his hold. “What happened? Was I in some sort of accident? The techs didn’t know anything about why I was being regened. And why are we on Mirai instead of Synra?” Her brow knotted up. “You cut your hair. I’ve never seen it so short before.”

  He blinked a few times, focused on her inquisitive, innocent eyes, and found a whisper of his voice. “Cassidy. Um…a lot’s happened. There are some things I need to catch you up on.”

  Over Cassidy’s shoulder, Selene took half a step inside the lobby and stopped. When his gaze fell on her, she gave him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, nodded once, turned and left.

  His heart had been rendered incapable of expressing anything sensical, but it was possible that beneath the tsunami of emotions consuming him, what he felt then was a twinge of wistful sorrow.

  “Okay, well, I’m famished. This new body needs fuel! Can you catch me up on whatever happened over noodles?”

  He chuckled, leaning down to kiss Cassidy on her deliciously full lips, and decades of grief vanished in an instant. “Yeah, I can absolutely do that. There’s a good noodle place right up the street.”

  69

  * * *

  EARTH

  Vancouver

  Malcolm shook Philippe Beaumont’s hand and sat across from him at the table by the window. The coffee shop routine was becoming standard operating procedure for them. “Thank you for agreeing to meet me on such short notice yet again. I’m afraid I don’t have much leeway in my schedule.”

  “I can only imagine. Therefore, I won’t waste your valuable time engaging in small talk. What did you want to discuss?”

  He’d taken Alex’s message regarding the upcoming high-level Gardiens meeting to heart, but he still wasn’t certain how he was going to finagle an invitation. He was in no way whatsoever trained for this manner of undercover work. But he’d volunteered for it, so….

  He made a show of steepling his hands at his chin with a deep sigh. “The AEGIS Oversight Board has pushed me to the breaking point on the issue of my no-regenesis clause, and in doing so, they’re forcing me to make a choice.

  “I can’t go along with their political campaigns and propaganda on what is unproven and dangerous technology. I believe in what the Gardiens stand for. I have for a while, I suspect, but this controversy has caused me to grapple with my convictions in search of clarity.” He blinked and met Beaumont’s hopeful stare. “I want to help you. Now, given how my time and bandwidth are extremely limited, I want to focus my efforts on areas where I can bring the most benefit to the table.”

  Beaumont beamed with glee, and probably relief. “This is wonderful. I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear it. I have some ideas—”

  “So do I. But here’s the thing. I need…listen, you’ve been an excellent contact and advocate
for your cause. I’m grateful to have met you, and I hope you’ll consider me a friend. But this issue extends well beyond Seattle or the Pacific Northwest or even Earth. If I’m to be of maximum use to the Gardiens with, frankly, minimum time and effort, I need to coordinate with the leadership—and no offense, but I don’t mean the local guys. I need to be on the inside.”

  “I see.” Beaumont leaned back in his chair, his expression masking. “No offense taken. Your request is entirely reasonable. Our leadership is of necessity secretive and cautious, of course. If their identities were known to the authorities, it would cause unwelcome complications for them and for the Gardiens.

  “But it so happens that I’m traveling to a strategy meeting with the leaders this afternoon. Much of what is on the agenda…well, I can’t guarantee you’ll be cleared to listen in on all the details. But at the very least, I think I can get you an introduction to the people at the top. At that point, it will be up to them how to best move forward with this new partnership.”

  This was proving easier than he’d feared it was going to be. They wanted him rather badly.

  “I appreciate it, Philippe. Where am I headed?”

  Malcolm studied himself critically in the mirror. Not his clothes, because he knew how to dress for any occasion, even a meeting with a terrorist. No, he scrutinized his countenance, his stance, his body language. Practiced a few facial expressions.

  Not only was he not a spy, he wasn’t a particularly good liar. Deception had never been his forte. Now he was going to have to fool a brilliant, diabolical mastermind who had tried to kill Miriam—who had tried to kill Mia—into believing he was committed to the man’s nefarious cause.

  But his own personal discomfort would be worth it in spades if he helped to bring the Gardiens, the Rivinchi cartel and most of all the man at the top of them both to justice.

  He was trying out a disgusted glare in the mirror when a custom-flagged message arrived.

  Malcolm,

  I hope the Rasu aren’t wearing you down too much. I know you’re consumed with the war, but I was wondering if you might like to have lunch sometime. This week, maybe, or whenever you have a few hours of downtime. I’m on Romane full-time now, but I can come to the Presidio. Or HQ. Or wherever. Just let me know.

  —Mia

  His heart swelled with delight and a fresh surge of hope. She was reaching out to him, of her own accord! He had so much he wanted to tell her. Lunch wasn’t going to be nearly long enough for them to talk about it all. But it was an excellent start for certain—

  Then reality asserted itself, and his posture sagged in sync with his crashing mood.

  He couldn’t be seen with her. Not when the Gardiens were watching his every public move and as many of his private ones as they were able to manage. If visuals were recorded of them together, it would draw attention to her. Vilane would see the footage and recognize her as Laisha Balente.

  He didn’t dare risk it.

  He grimaced and worked to prop up his resolve. He’d respond to her message, explain the situation and beg for her patience…except that if he told her what was happening, she’d insist on getting involved. Right now, she thought she’d handed Vilane off to Richard and washed her hands of the matter. But if she learned Malcolm was working undercover to bring the man down, she’d believe he was doing it to protect her—which he absolutely was, if not only for that reason—and she’d never stand for it. She’d also be angry at him for taking it upon himself to try to protect her. Possibly angry enough to ruin whatever chance at a future they had together.

  He couldn’t tell her. Anything.

  The wall of the lavatory hit his back as the added weight of this new burden settled onto his shoulders, and he sank down to the tile floor. Were they cursed?

  He tried to comfort himself by thinking back to how long it had taken for them to get together the first time. A dozen brief encounters and missed opportunities, in the end, hadn’t been enough to stop them from finding each other. If they had to follow the same path again, so be it.

  His heart broke as he composed a short, polite but terse response, silently begging her to read between the lines and see what wasn’t said. It was a terrible reply, but he gritted his teeth and sent it anyway.

  Then he hauled himself up off the floor and went to grab his jacket.

  70

  * * *

  ROMANE

  Mia greeted Dean Veshnael wearing a genuine smile, clasping his arm in the traditional Novoloume greeting. “Sir, it is so wonderful to see you again. I realize you’re terribly busy—partly my fault—and I thank you for finding a few minutes to visit my little project.”

  The Novoloume leader and her successor at the Concord Consulate bowed his head with utmost grace. “I am happy to do so, and relieved to find you well. I worried for you.”

  “You are too kind. To be honest, I worried for myself as well. But the past is the past, and we move forward.”

  “Yes, we do.” His gaze drifted to the windows overlooking downtown. “An enchanting planet you have here. It reminds me of Nopreis in some ways.”

  “Humans will never be able to match the exquisite elegance of Novoloume architecture, but in my biased opinion, Romane represents our best effort so far. I’m glad you approve.” She gestured to the hutch against the wall. “Can I get you a drink? I had some alondisi brought in for the occasion.”

  “A glass sounds nice, though I don’t have long. In recent weeks, I have gained a much more fulsome appreciation for all the work you did at the Consulate. You made it look easy, but I now know it was not.”

  “I didn’t mind. Then again, I wasn’t juggling that work with running an entire planet, either. I’m sure you’re doing a splendid job.” Her expression almost broke for an instant, but she wrangled it under control as she poured two glasses of the Novoloume liquor and brought him one. “Since your time is short, shall we head across the street for a tour? We can talk on the way.”

  Construction cranes swung overhead, and the air was filled with drones buzzing between them. Aerial mechs stood ready to secure scaffolding trusses as soon as the cranes maneuvered them into place. It was quite a noisy affair on the whole, and curious onlookers slowed their steps on the adjoining sidewalks to peer up into the sky.

  At least the shining marble flooring of the broad, sweeping atrium had been placed earlier in the week, providing the tiniest glimpse of what was to come.

  When they arrived in the atrium, she activated the to-scale, slightly artistic version of the expo’s schematic. It overlaid the construction surrounding them in semi-translucent colors, walls and the hint of art displays.

  “Oh! How delightful.”

  “I think so. I hope the final product looks as professional as the designs promise.” After they perused the schematic for a moment, she urged Veshnael off to the right and through an archway, and they left the marble flooring behind in favor of sawdust and planks. Veshnael lifted his robe off the ground and ventured forward without complaint.

  “As I mentioned when we talked earlier, we’re going to have dedicated spaces for each of the Concord Member Species. I’m not being adulatory when I say that humanity considers its friendship with the Novoloume to be one of the most important benefits to come from the Concord alliance. As such, I want to make certain the Novoloume exhibit reflects the truest and best aspects of your culture. To this end….”

  She spent several minutes walking Veshnael through her plans for the specifics of the exhibit. He offered several salient suggestions, more compliments than were necessary and a smattering of harsh advice gently delivered. She reminded herself to appreciate it all.

  He’s always such a kind man.

  He is, Meno. Though never forget how there’s steel beneath the luminous skin.

  “If you have the time, please return in a few weeks and see all the progress I intend to have made. It’s only a framework today, but if all goes as planned, by then it will begin to feel real.”

&nb
sp; “I’d be honored. And I’m happy to refer you to a member of my staff for any consultations you need on the Novoloume exhibit.”

  “That would be—”

  A message from Malcolm arrived in her eVi, and she immediately opened it without thinking. A cloud picked this exact moment to pass across the dominant sun overhead, and she wanted to weep at the symbolism. Or just weep, period.

  “—wonderful.” She willfully forced her features into a weak facsimile of a smile. “I guarantee you I will need the help.”

  “I’ll send you her contact details this afternoon.”

  “I appreciate it, Dean. Now, I don’t want to keep you, so if you like, I can open a wormhole here so you can return directly to your office at the Consulate.”

  “Thank you for the tour, Ms. Requelme. I wish you all the luck, and I look forward to visiting again.”

  As soon as he’d departed, her pleasant expression promptly collapsed. She reopened the message.

  Mia,

  I hope you’re doing well. I’ve been hearing good things about your new venture on Romane.

  Thank you for the invitation, but I’m afraid I must decline. The Oversight Board and the Commandant and the Rasu have me running two ways from Sunday, and I can barely catch my breath. Duty and honor above self, right? Perhaps another time.

  Best,

  —Malcolm

  A shout jolted her out of the spell his heartbreaking words had cast over her, and she glanced up to discover she’d wandered into the middle of the street, straight into the path of a hoverbike. She jumped, its driver swerved, and a calamity was averted. The physical sort, anyway.

  Mia….

  Don’t even start, Meno.

  You have to take care of yourself. I don’t relish the prospect of situating your soul in a new body.