Fate accepted, Eren turned around slowly, arms in the air but hands fisted. “Is there a problem, sir? I was on my way—”
The Watchman and both guards flew backwards through the air as if shoved by an invisible force. As they slammed to the floor far down the lobby, the bystanders gasped and shifted in confused unrest.
Eren spun around to see a man in a hooded cloak standing a dozen meters away, between him and the entrance to the docks. The man’s right hand was splayed in front of his body and surrounded by a flaming crimson aura.
Well, this wasn’t exactly better. The murmur of dread crossed his lips unbidden. “Inquisitor.”
“No.”
Eren jumped as a hand landed on his arm to accompany the furtive whisper coming from his left. Another hooded figure stood beside him—directly beside him. How had someone gotten so close without him noticing? Beneath the hood radiant silver irises framed by rich bordeaux locks stared intently at him. “This way. Let’s go.”
He nodded in hurried agreement. “Nos libertatem somnia.”
The stranger’s eyes narrowed. “What?”
Not an anarch. Arae! Eren tried to back away, only to have her—yes, he decided it was likely a woman, though he couldn’t identify her Dynasty—tighten her grip. “Please, come with us. We’ll get you out of here.”
“Us? You mean you and the Inquisitor? I don’t think so.”
“Would you rather die here?”
“If that’s required, yes.” Movement in the corner of his vision heralded the Watchman and guards struggling up off the floor.
“Ugh….” The woman groaned and tugged on his arm. “This is a rescue, so will you come already? Live through the next ten minutes and we’ll explain everything.”
“What are you doing? Obey Vigil and turn him over!”
The speaker, a stodgy Kyvern man in a brown suit—Eren snickered—surged out of the crowd toward them, as if intending to grab Eren himself.
The mysterious woman spun toward the man and flung her arm outward. A stream of blazing white energy whipped out from her wrist to leap across the three meters of open space and slash the man across the chest. He collapsed to the floor in convulsions. The rest of the crowd now began clamoring backward in full-on panic.
Admittedly impressed, Eren made a swift calculation. Certain death now or probable death later. So long as he could succeed in wrecking the Reor slab before death came, probable and later were always preferable to certain and now.
He assented, and the woman instantly took off running. After a few strides of being dragged along behind her, he caught on and matched her pace. They rushed toward the docks entrance as the recovering security personnel advanced behind them and drones closed in on both sides.
When they reached the Inquisitor, the man thrust his arm out in a fresh burst of diati. Eren risked a peek behind him to see his pursuers stopped cold by a shimmering wall that spanned the lobby, leaving only the three of them on this side of it. Ahead of them, at the checkpoint, all the Vigil units were down and the line of entrants had scattered into the docking passages.
The woman paused long enough to place a hand on the Inquisitor’s shoulder. “Caleb?”
A deep male voice bearing an unfamiliar accent responded from beneath the hood. “Right behind you, baby.”
“You better be.” She renewed her grip on Eren’s hand and sprinted forward once more; they sped through the checkpoint unmolested and into the maze of the docks.
Footsteps pounded behind them. He didn’t risk another peek back, but he assumed they belonged to this ‘Caleb,’ for better or worse.
They rounded the next corner as a burst of heavier, harsher thuds echoed down the passage. Abruptly the woman yanked him to the left, into a docking module.
“Breathe out and get ready to jump.” She slammed an open palm on the panel, and a white glow pulsed beneath her fingers and up her wrist into the sleeve of her cloak.
The door opened and she proceeded to shove him through it—
—into space. There was a ship, but it wasn’t actually docked.
Momentum carried him forward across the chasm into an open airlock. His feet briefly touched a solid surface. He grabbed a handle in the wall as one body then another landed in the small antechamber with him.
The outer airlock closed, artificial gravity slammed his feet to the floor and air flooded in. The hatch in front of him opened, and Eren stumbled into the ship’s cabin.
The woman followed on his heels, then the Inquisitor a second later, and the inner airlock hissed shut, sealing him in.
5
SIYANE
MILKY WAY SECTOR 23
* * *
“VALKYRIE, GET US OUT OF HERE!” Alex shoved past the Anaden to reach the cockpit and slide into her chair as they accelerated away from the space station.
‘Two drone vessels are in pursuit.’
“There will be more.”
She ignored the comment, but Caleb pointed their guest to one of the jump seats behind the cockpit. “Sit down.” Then he leaned in above her shoulder. “You got this?”
“I got this.” Targeting lock warnings flashed on the HUD. Two…four, five security drone vessels. “Rifter active. Swing around E 82° on plane and act like we’re going to shoot at them.”
The pursuers were too small to pick out against the backdrop of the dark, hulking station, but their energy signatures shone bright as flares. They fired as they closed in—they were quite fast—and foul-colored cadmium lasers consumed the viewport.
“Power, Valkyrie. I need power.”
‘Reallocating.’
The lights in the cabin dimmed. The gauge crept up. “Cloaking now, Rifter remains active. And…sLume drive engaged.”
The weapons fire vanished in favor of the superluminal bubble, and she exhaled. But relaxation still lay some distance in the future. “We’re basically fleeing in a straight line, which isn’t a great idea. Mesme, help Valkyrie find a good hiding spot off of our current vector.”
Mesme darted across the entrance to the cockpit in a wave of shapeless lights. Alexis, as we are now in my home realm, I have asked you to refer to me by my proper name.
“I will when you start calling me Alex. Maybe. Honestly, you should’ve considered the ramifications of having an unpronounceable name before you chose it. Now, can we focus? We have an escape to complete.”
“The drones’ weapons didn’t hit your ship.”
She tossed a smirk in the direction of the Anaden. “No, they didn’t.”
‘Mnemosyne, the region eighty parsecs into Sector 22 on a N 31° W vector appears to lack any structural development. Am I correct in this assessment?’
The location will suffice to provide temporary safety.
‘Adjusting superluminal course.’
“Thanks, Valkyrie.” Alex took a deep breath, let it out and spun the chair around to face the cabin.
The man they’d rescued had abandoned the jump seat to stand in the center of the main cabin, a look of perplexed frustration marring his features as his gaze jerked between her, Caleb, Mesme and various areas of the interior.
Behind him Caleb stashed their weapons, locked down the cabinets and pretended not to have a keen eye fixed on their guest. Using the diati in such an intense manner was sure to have him wired and a bit jumpy, so she’d try to keep the spotlight on her for a while so he could…she didn’t want to say regain control. Reimpose inner calm.
She smiled blithely. “Well, that was bracing, no?”
The Anaden settled his attention on her but stepped to the side so Caleb wasn’t behind him. Tall and lithe, his movements reminded her of a leopard: alert, wary and swift. “What is this ship? Who are you people? Why do you have a Kat on board?”
“I’m Alex. He’s Caleb. The Kat—I like that, by the way—is Mnemosyne. It has its own ship but nevertheless keeps showing up on ours, which is the Siyane. And also Valkyrie, since she’s basically the ship. It’s a long, dreadfully esoter
ic story. Now about—”
“What do you mean, ‘she’s basically the ship’? Why does the ship have two names?”
“I mean Valkyrie’s quantum circuitry permeates all systems and structures of the vessel. Among other things. She’s an Artificial—a synthetic intelligence—and the ship doesn’t have two names. They’re two separate entities. Sort of. They once were. I said it was esoteric.”
The man—they’d been given a time, place and general description of who to be on the lookout for from Mesme’s contact, but not a name—dropped into a chair at the kitchen table and reached up behind his head. Long copper hair twisted into silken strands fell out of a knot to spill over his shoulders. As she watched, his skin darkened from a tawny beige to rich sienna. He rubbed at his eyes, and when he reopened them they shone a vibrant gilt—neither bronze nor gold, but akin to solar flares.
Okay, this was somewhat unexpected, but whatever.
“You have a SAI running your ship? Are you daft?”
She didn’t miss Caleb’s quiet chuckle from the back of the cabin, but she kept her focus on their guest. “It’s a matter of some dispute. What did you call her? A ‘SAI’?”
“A sentient artificial intelligence. A self-aware machine someone built.”
“Oh. Yes, that’s a more or less accurate description.”
“But they’re verboten. Practically heretical.”
Valkyrie sighed. ‘Not again.’
Alex laughed. “Looks like. Sorry, Valkyrie. But I’m confused. Don’t you have quantum processes running everything here? Your ships, your buildings, your bodies?”
“Of course. But they are tools under the full control of their hosts or masters. In no way are they sentient or aware.”
She arched an eyebrow. “More’s the pity.”
“For an allegedly sentient entity, it did a rather poor job of docking.”
“Oh, we were docked. But if security deduced which ship we belonged to, it wouldn’t have released the ship from the docking clamps, right? So she undocked before the shitstorm kicked off.”
He considered the explanation, then shifted forward in the chair. “Fine. If your ship is a SAI and a Kat your guide, what are you?”
Caleb strode forward to prop in feigned casualness against the data table, dropping his hood and shrugging off the cloak. “Not Inquisitors.”
The man met his piercing stare to study Caleb for several seconds. “No. It appears you are not. So how in the name of Zeus is it you wield diati with such skill?”
“I don’t think you’ve earned the right to know yet.”
“Oh? Near as I can tell, I’ve been kidnapped and am being held captive by mysterious, suspicious-acting strangers. I deserve to be told who my captors are.”
Alex rolled her eyes. “We didn’t kidnap you. We saved your ass.”
“That remains to be determined. Why did you do it?”
Caleb shook his head minutely. Not yet.
He was the expert at this kind of thing, so she followed his lead. “We can get into the specifics later, after we’ve gotten to know one another better. We’re aware you’re an anarch—more importantly, an Anaden anarch, which makes you a very rare individual. We’re interested in learning about the resistance, but primarily we need to learn details about the Anaden power structure.”
She shot Mesme an annoyed glare, as it had been shockingly unhelpful in this regard. “The type of information only an Anaden will have and only an anarch will reveal.”
He considered each of them in turn. “Because you…truly aren’t Anaden, though your resemblance to us is close to the point of uncanniness. And plainly you aren’t anarchs. Yet here you are, departing an Anaden space station—at which you had successfully docked, at least briefly—in a ship of unique design and capable of superluminal travel. How is that possible? I ask again: what are you?”
It wasn’t as if he would believe her if she told him. “Let’s just say we share a genetic heritage with the Anadens. If you require a label, call us ‘humans.’ And that’s all we’re going to say on it for now.”
“Never heard of ‘humans,’ but they’re not an Accepted Species, which means you’re risking your lives simply by being in this sector, much less docking at stations and walking around in them—or running, as it were. What’s your objective, beyond kidnapping me?”
She and Caleb exchanged another glance, and this time he indicated assent. “The same as yours: to topple the Directorate and free the species it enslaves.”
The man’s gaze shot behind her to where Mesme had coalesced into a somewhat humanoid form. “You’re saying this in front of the Kat? It will report you!”
You understand nothing, anarch. The disdain in Mesme’s tone was both uncharacteristic and impossible to miss.
“I understand the Kats are the Directorate’s sycophants. Cowards and mewling bootlickers.”
Mesme surged forward to swirl in agitation around the Anaden where he sat. You. Understand. Nothing.
Alex kept a straight face, but Mesme’s reaction was surprising. Yes, the man had insulted it, but Mesme’s usual temperament gave ‘dispassionate’ a bad name. This was new.
The Anaden raised his hands in surrender. “Clearly. I’m sorry—now back off.”
The intensity of Mesme’s swirling lessened, but it continued to probe him for a couple of revolutions before retreating.
He eyed Mesme warily until it settled down off to Alex’s right. “How did you find me? Or to be more specific, how did you know where I would be, the delicate nature of my situation and that I was an anarch? It’s not what I’d call common knowledge.”
A corner of Alex’s mouth curled up. “The mewling bootlicker and you have a mutual acquaintance.”
“Someone in the anarchs betrayed me?”
Not betrayed. Sought to assist us both.
“Who?”
I will not reveal this information. To do so would be the betrayal.
“That’s one perspective.” He slouched in the chair. “Well, this is not how I saw my day going when I woke up this morning. All right. Agree to drop me off at a location of my choosing in the next…how fast does your ship go? Never mind. Drop me off in the next ten hours, and I’ll answer your questions, within reason. But I won’t betray anarch secrets, and I decide what that means.”
“Deal.” Alex left the cockpit and went over to one of the cabinets. She unlocked it, slid the spiral bracelet-turned-conductivity lash off her forearm and stored it.
Once it was secure in its case and the cabinet locked, she rested against the data table beside Caleb, squeezed his hand and drew closer to whisper in his ear. “You were fantastic back there.”
He squeezed her hand and murmured, “So were you,” before motioning for their guest to continue.
The man regarded them curiously for a moment. “My name is Eren asi-Idoni, 62nd Savitas Lineage, 12th Epoch Proper. I am three hundred twelve years old, formerly of the Idoni Dynasty and now a field operative for the anarch resistance against the Anaden Directorate.”
“You’re how old?”
“I know, hardly more than a child. No need to remind me. Of course, this body is barely a month old. The last one got atomized when I blew up the Phoenix Gateway. The one before the last one got its head ripped off in a nasty encounter with an angry Ch’mshak. Admittedly, he had cause to be angry, as I had just destroyed his ship…and cargo…and a few other valuables.”
She scowled. According to Mesme, 478 passengers on two vessels, as well as thirty-one people on the adjacent Arx, were killed in the Phoenix Gateway explosion. She pulsed Caleb.
Mesme was right. The anarchs are nothing but terrorists.
Probably. But they’re terrorists fighting our enemy, which suggests they can still be useful.
She reluctantly buried the scowl. “We know the Dynasties operate on some sort of group consciousness you call an ‘integral.’ Does this mean you can hear the thoughts of your leader—your Primor?”
“It�
��s not a group consciousness. It’s a pervasive, invasive choke chain. And I haven’t heard any thoughts from the Idoni integral in ninety-seven years. But no. Thoughts do traverse the integral, but only upwardly and horizontally—never down to those lesser. So when I was a part of it, I was not privy to the musings of the Primor. Thank Athena, for what vile horrors they must be.”
“So you were able to break away from the integral, then. How did it come about, exactly?”
“You don’t pull any punches, do you? Do you have any idea how personal a question that is?”
Not really. “I’m sorry. I only meant how you did it. We’re interested in the mechanics of it. We’re trying to understand how these integrals work and what they mean for…certain things.”
“Hypnols. Satisfied?”
Hypnols are the Amaranthean version of chimerals, and allegedly potent neurochemical drugs.
I thought I remembered the word. Thanks, Valkyrie.
In truth she’d definitely remembered it, as the factoid had been personally relevant for addiction reasons. She’d gone so far as to make a mental note: don’t accidentally try hypnols, and for the love of anything that might be holy, don’t deliberately try hypnols. One day she’d feel secure enough to again indulge in the occasional casual party chimeral without worrying it could set off some kind of relapse, but the day wasn’t here yet.
Anyway, his answer didn’t tell them much. “I was hoping for a more informative answer.”
“I burned out the part of my brain necessary to communicate with the integral. Possibly a few other parts as well. Collateral damage.”
“It was as simple as that?”
He donned a chilling, cryptic expression. “Not even close.”
6
SIYANE
MILKY WAY
* * *
“WHAT DO YOU THINK?”
Alex stared out the viewport above the bed, acknowledging and moving past the faintest twinge of the stars’ call to her, then curled her legs beneath her and scooted nearer to Caleb where he sat on the side of the bed. She kept her voice low as an added precaution, though she doubted their guest would comprehend the English they’d switched back to.
Aurora Resonant: The Complete Collection (Amaranthe Collections Book 3) Page 5