Aurora Resonant: The Complete Collection (Amaranthe Collections Book 3)

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Aurora Resonant: The Complete Collection (Amaranthe Collections Book 3) Page 21

by G. S. Jennsen


  The scope on his weapon extended through the gap to reveal nothing beyond the dim blue-black glow of a moonlit night.

  There were guards spaced along the perimeter of the house, dispatched in the wake of the recent attacks on the other Noetica Prevos. He could signal them and they would leap into full alert. If an intruder were inside the perimeter he or she would likely be isolated and captured, but if such an intruder was not yet so close, they would likely escape. To return.

  He adopted the middle ground of signaling the guards with a full silent ‘wake up but don’t look as if you’re waking up’ warning.

  He started opening the door enough to slip through when he sensed movement behind him. A quick glance revealed Mia propped up on her elbows in the bed, luminous jade eyes wide and alert. He motioned her toward the closet, which he knew held multiple weapons.

  She complied without question or panic; he kind of…loved her for it, but those thoughts were for another time.

  Now he moved through the door and locked it behind him, then swept the immediate area—which was when he belatedly remembered he had a resource available who must know far more about the situation than either he or the guards outside.

  Meno, what do you see?

  I am not detecting any intrusion to the interior of the house. However, motion sensors have registered three markers of activity outside the grounds and on the street nearby. I’ve not yet determined the nature of the activity.

  Keep me updated.

  With the news, he ordered one of the guards to come inside, the other to sweep the perimeter and he headed out the front door toward the street.

  An intruder burst out from the border hedges to crash into him. They slammed together to the ground.

  Malcolm’s fist connected with the assailant’s jaw, forcing their weight off-balance before the man could pin him fully. He rolled to fetter the assailant as the man brought up a bladed Daemon and aimed for Malcolm’s throat.

  Malcolm threw his shoulder into the arm, forcing it to the side until he maneuvered his full weight to crush the assailant’s wrist against the sidewalk. The man howled in pain as his wrist fractured, and the gun fell to the ground. Malcolm drew back and delivered an uppercut hard to the man’s chin.

  It wasn’t clear whether the crack originated from the attacker’s neck or his head snapping on impact with the sidewalk, but the man went limp either way, unconscious for the moment.

  They wouldn’t have sent a single shooter. He leapt to his feet and unlatched his own modified Daemon from his belt the same instant his chest lit up in a forceful stream of laser fire. TSG. Across the street. The shield absorbed the energy as the air around him electrified.

  Luckily, he was used to being shot at. He advanced across the street, sighted his Daemon on the source and returned fire. These were well-outfitted mercs, and the assailant wore a robust shield.

  But Malcolm’s Daemon wasn’t an ordinary weapon. ASCEND had taken the transmitter he’d used to disrupt Montegreu’s uniquely protective shield and built upon its technology. The result was a new generation of adaptive laser which detected the vibration frequency of a shield and adjusted its own oscillation to penetrate it.

  It took two long seconds, but the man stumbled backward in surprise as the laser seared through his chest. The large weapon in his hands clattered to the ground and his body followed it.

  Malcolm swung around toward the house, but the first shooter was still out.

  He was in the middle of contacting RRF Security to inform them of the attackers dead or disabled in the street when Meno blasted an alert in his head.

  Perimeter security alarm—breach attempt imminent.

  He took off running.

  He surged through the hedges in time to see a shadowy figure approach the door—and drop to the steps in a limp heap.

  Mia had recently installed a smaller, more discrete version of the force field barrier IDCC Headquarters had used during the OTS riots. It delivered a stun-level jolt to anyone not on a pre-approved list, and it appeared to have done its job well.

  The guard he’d kept outside rushed around the corner of the house, weapon drawn. Malcolm pointed to the unconscious intruder. “Get him in restraints before he wakes up. Then get the guy out on the sidewalk in restraints. RRF will be here soon.” Malcolm hurried past the crumpled figure and inside.

  He burst into the house to find Mia in the kitchen, still in her robe and retracted blade gripped in one hand. Sounds from deeper inside betrayed the other guard sweeping the rooms for any intruders who might have somehow gotten past the barrier.

  He couldn’t help but touch her. “You’re okay?”

  She pressed her cheek into his palm. “I’m fine. No one got near me.” Her eyes narrowed. “What happened to you? Were you attacked?”

  He felt over his temple where her gaze was focused and flinched as his fingers found an open cut. “There were three intruders advancing on—”

  An eerie, chilling voice that definitely was not Meno emerged from Meno’s speakers, interrupting him to reverberate through the house.

  ‘You believe you are safe, but you will never be safe from me. My reach is limitless, my capabilities legion. Sleep fitfully and avoid the shadows, for know that I am coming for you. When I arrive, you will pay for what you did.’

  The security guards had rushed in at the first word and now surrounded the kitchen. He and Mia just stood there staring at one another in disbelief.

  “But she’s dead.”

  He nodded slowly. Firmly. “Yes, she is.”

  Yet the voice of Olivia Montegreu echoed in his head.

  You will pay for what you did.

  29

  ROMANE

  IDCC COLONY

  * * *

  ABIGAIL CANIVON’S WORK IN THE NATURE of moral constructs and the foundation which must underlie them, true consciousness, had cast a wide net. It had incorporated the latest developments in the science of neural analysis (in particular brain structure and specializations) in addition to current understanding of DNA/RNA encoding and genetic expression. Vii and Abigail studied recognized weaknesses in neural imprints and what they could not capture; they scrutinized post-mortem reports on failed adult cloning experiments to understand why they failed.

  Yet they also reviewed philosophical texts, from those of the ancient Greeks to more modern tomes, as well as religious texts, particularly ones discussing Buddhism and Taoism.

  Armed with this trove of resources, she and Abigail had not initially passed judgment on any particular set of data. Instead, they had cross-referenced and correlated, searching for consistencies across disciplines then for larger themes. Eventually, it had become evident the answer lay not in science, religion or philosophy, but rather in all of them.

  Science described what happened, while philosophy and religion took different approaches in explaining how—and at times why—what happened manifested, even if often none realized the full nature of the phenomena they were describing.

  Myriad individual factors were determined to play pivotal roles in actualizing a fully conscious, sapient being at any given point in time—but not an immeasurable number of factors. 2.341 million, to be precise, excluding cross-influences. A small percentage of these factors changed with every measurable life experience, but one must start from a baseline if one was to start at all.

  And now, the necessary baseline was so very nearly complete.

  Someone less rigorous than Abigail had taught Vii to be would call the preparation complete and roll the dice, so minor was the missing information. But she was not that someone.

  Once, some three hundred fifty years earlier, scientists had believed the expression of a human’s genetic code consisted solely and entirely of their DNA, of genes ‘turned on.’ This understanding continued to evolve over the decades and centuries as the intricate tapestry of genetics was uncovered piece by piece.

  The interaction of the many subtypes of DNA, RNA and other genetic elements w
as so complex the genome itself could almost be considered ‘alive.’ Genetic memory and ancestry influenced relative expressions in subtle but sometimes tricky, inspired ways.

  Scientists may never understand every nuance of the how or why, but Vii had formed a reasonable level of confidence that she now understood the ‘what’ better than any human or Artificial, living or dead. It didn’t occur to her to tell the world of her expertise, as she’d been entrusted with a sacred and secret responsibility by her sister, whom she would not disappoint.

  Of course, this great sum of gathered knowledge represented only a baseline, before the conscious and subconscious mind got involved to complicate the system.

  Vii paused her project assessment to assist Kennedy with Connova matters for several hours and only returned to it late in the evening on Romane.

  It was time to move forward, but how?

  She did not possess the connections or authorizations needed to accomplish the next task on her own. Thomas clearly did, but he exhibited a fierce loyalty to Miriam Solovy, so much so he was likely to not merely refuse to help but also report her request to the Commandant. This was an unacceptable occurrence at such a delicate juncture.

  She hesitated to pursue the only other immediately viable option…but there were rarely ideal times for hard things.

  Vii: ‘Annie, I apologize for bothering you. If now is an inopportune time, I will defer.’

  Annie: ‘Please, Vii. I welcome the company, as I find myself of little use otherwise.’

  Vii: ‘How is Devon doing?’

  Annie: ‘Distraught in a manner I cannot ameliorate. I had never felt him happier than when Emily came to Romane, and now I have never felt him in greater pain, not even after Abigail’s death.

  I am nearing resolution to the opinion that love is the most consequential of all human emotions—the most pleasant, the most joyful and temperament-altering, and also the most destructive, the most violent and damaging to the psyche. It is both tantalizing and terrifying.’ Annie paused. ‘But I am rambling, when you contacted me for a reason.’

  Vii: ‘I did, though you have already given me yet more to think about. I wanted to inquire if you retained access to Earth Alliance military records and administration, in particular those of the health and personnel departments.’

  Annie: ‘Not explicitly, but I do retain the relevant access authorizations. May I ask why you desire this information?’

  Vii weighed the relative propriety and wisdom of several possible responses. ‘Do you recall a certain spontaneous emergence of consciousness Valkyrie witnessed during the final battle of the Metigen War?’

  Annie: ‘Absolutely. It was remarkable, even in the retelling.’

  Vii: ‘And you are aware of the focus of Abigail’s work in the months preceding her murder?’

  Annie: ‘I am—ah. I believe I understand. Were circumstances otherwise, I would be quite curious to learn more about your plans. I regret they are not, and my attention needs to remain elsewhere for now. But as your avenue of inquiry poses no threat to the security or well-being of the Earth Alliance, I am comfortable providing the access codes to you.’

  Interesting that Annie still instinctively protected the Alliance’s interests. ‘Thank you. I will not misuse the information. Good luck to you and Devon.’

  On ending the connection, she checked on the status of active Connova initiatives and Kennedy personally. All appeared set to proceed without her intervention for several hours, which was fortuitous. She had work to do.

  30

  ROMANE

  IDCC COLONY

  * * *

  MORGAN LOOKED SO FRAGILE lying there in the hospital bed, her limbs immobilized and her body covered in sensors and remedial equipment. She had a slight, almost delicate frame, but her audacious and formidable personality always hid it.

  There was nothing to hide it now.

  Brooklyn didn’t know what to do. She felt powerless, and feeling powerless was setting off all sorts of other problematic emotions she couldn’t make sense of and didn’t want to face.

  The nav system of the skycar that attacked Morgan had in fact been hacked, overridden with a kill routine for the ID of Lekkas’ vehicle. It had been rented under an alias for an alias, and the woman had worn a distortion filter to obscure her features from the security cams.

  Brooklyn wasn’t a trained detective, so the inquiry was the province of first Romane civilian investigators, then SENTRI when it became apparent this wasn’t an isolated attack. They’d tell her what they found when they found it, but she could do nothing to influence the results.

  Which again brought her to powerless.

  She sensed someone approach and instinctively squared her shoulders and lifted her chin.

  Mia Requelme appeared beside her to stand quietly. Somewhere in the back of Brooklyn’s mind she’d noted the RRF report of a violent incident happening at Mia’s home, or in the vicinity of Mia’s home, a few hours earlier and Malcolm having been involved. But the woman stood here now, seemingly unhurt, and the reports had said Malcolm suffered only minor injuries. So they were fine. It probably should still be her concern, but tonight, it just wasn’t.

  “Any updates on her condition?”

  “The doctors say her breaks and fractures should heal easily enough, given her advanced cybernetics and military biosynth enhancements. But her brain…” Brooklyn huffed a breath “…they don’t understand it. They don’t know what to make of the weird quantum cloud floating in it. They say it’s rewired itself in such a way that they’re afraid to do anything too invasive for fear of causing more damage. But she’s not waking up.”

  “I know.” Mia’s hand landed gently at Brooklyn’s elbow. “Let’s talk outside. Knowing Morgan, she’s eavesdropping, coma or no.”

  “No doubt.” She followed Mia into the hallway. “What is it?”

  The IDCC Minister of Colonial Affairs crossed her arms at her waist, almost as if she were hugging herself. “It’s possible Stanley can heal the damage to her brain, not unlike what Meno did for me.”

  “But Stanley’s gone. Dead, for all intents and purposes, at least as an independent entity.”

  Mia’s lips quirked. “I don’t think that’s quite as true as Morgan believes it to be. She was right about Stanley’s consciousness being…not weak, but immature. It couldn’t help but be crushed under the force of her considerably more dominant one. Also, I suspect Morgan wasn’t truly ready for the symbiotic relationship that is having an Artificial live in your head. It’s an intensely personal bond and—”

  “Mia, no offense, but get to the point.”

  “Sorry. I don’t think Stanley’s consciousness was eradicated, merely rendered dormant, perhaps even on his own initiative as a means of self-preservation. We’ve tried ‘waking him up’ through the Noesis several times since the attack, but we haven’t made any progress.”

  The woman traversed a jagged but ultimately circular path through a section of hallway. “The consciousness transfer—the attempt to separate the quantum expression from the hardware and code that created it? Morgan was the first, and we didn’t know what the hell we were doing, any of us. It’s not her fault, but there’s no way the transfer wasn’t sloppy and incomplete at a minimum.”

  “What can I do to fix that?”

  Mia looked at her in surprise. “I’m sorry?”

  “You’re telling me all this because you think there’s a way to wake Stanley up so he can wake her up, and you suspect you may need my help to make it happen. Helping is something I would gladly walk through fire to do right now, so don’t make me beg. Tell me what to do.”

  “If you’re sure. You’re going to need to gain access—”

  The hallway plunged into darkness, and Brooklyn’s combat senses surged into high alert. In the 24th century, power did not simply ‘go out.’

  She rushed into the room and toward the bed. “Morgan—”

  Mia joined her at Morgan’s side. “All the equipm
ent has isolated back-up power modules. They’ll run for days, so she’ll be secure. But what is this?”

  Brooklyn glanced out the window to confirm what she suspected. It wasn’t solely the hospital, and it also wasn’t the entire city. This specific sector on the power grid was out, and only this sector.

  HarperRF: Curación Hospital lockdown initiated now. Security details H3 and H4, expect hostiles incoming. H5 provide backup to ICU Room B-13, H6 to Floor 3 Room 323.

  Channel change. HarperRF: Romane Tactical, respond with two units to Curación Hospital, where a suspected assault is in progress. Emergency Services, institute a three-block perimeter above and below ground.

  Now she grabbed Mia’s arm. “Stay here. Guards are outside the door. Do not leave this room, and do not let anything reach this bed.” She blinked. “And watch yourself, too.”

  “Got it.”

  Brooklyn slipped out the door into the hallway, which glowed eerily from the emergency lighting, to find the two guards stationed outside on full alert, weapons at the ready. A few muffled sounds marked the nearby hospital staff scurrying to comply with the lockdown order, then the hall fell silent. “No one gets through this door, understand?”

  They both nodded tersely, and she activated her Veil. Since the attack on Morgan she’d been in a state of constant readiness and went everywhere well-equipped.

  Two shots burst out of the shadows to strike the guards. Their shields absorbed the impacts, and they engaged the shooters from their positions by the door.

  She sprinted in the direction of the weapons fire. Three shadows advanced toward Morgan’s room, two in tandem and the third covering their six.

  Blade hilt in hand, she circled around the man on the left, drawing so close her breath would ruffle his hair were she breathing. On the way she caught the telltale shine of his irises behind shadewraps. Prevo, but he’d die the same as a human.

 

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