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

by G. S. Jennsen

  “I didn’t have to be asked twice. The anarchs gave me a purpose. A reason to be daring. And they gave me back the prospect of renewed life. Not as guaranteed as the integral had provided, but a lot more reassuring than what I had before, which was nothing.

  “I didn’t join a new integral—there are no whispers in my mind from the other Anaden anarchs. It’s nothing but a wave connection between my consciousness and their internal network. And it’s sensational.

  “Anyone who tells you life has greater value when it comes with an expiration date is full of shit. Immortality is worth the fortunes of galaxies.”

  Alex regarded him too intently. “But it’s not worth everything. You gave it up for your freedom.”

  His forced bravado faltered. That truth still terrified him today. “I did.”

  ‘Would you do it again?’

  He jerked in surprise. It marked the first time the SAI had spoken during the conversation, interrogation, confession, whatever this was.

  He stared up at the ceiling; he was accustomed to responding to disembodied voices, but not self-aware ones. “After knowing what it meant to lose my immortality, then regaining it? Ultimately, yes. I can never return to being a drone under the thrall of the integral. Doesn’t mean I don’t hope it’s a decision I’m never asked to make a second time.”

  Alex regarded him with what he hoped was empathy. “Are any of the other species—the Accepted Species—able to undergo regenesis? I mean, your leaders have the technology. They could share it with the others and help them develop a method of regenesis that would be compatible with their particular biology.”

  “Oh, for certain they could. They never will. What power does the Directorate have if not the power over life and death?”

  “Are we sure we want to do this? If things go badly, we don’t get to wake up in a regenesis pod like Eren will.”

  Caleb had been on the verge of collapsing in the bed; it had been a long day and tomorrow was guaranteed to be both far longer and infinitely more stressful. He hoped to fall asleep before his brain had a chance to spin up a maze of troubling scenarios. He also hoped the diati stayed out of his dreams tonight.

  Now, though, he ignored the allure of the bed to regard Alex curiously as she discarded her pullover and slipped on a tank, a concession to the presence of their guest upstairs.

  “You’re usually the one saying ‘damn the torpedoes.’ What gives? Talk to me.”

  She sighed and began to rove distractedly around the room. “What Eren said about the value of life—about death, immortality and having to choose—kind of struck a chord for me. I suppose, having nearly thrown it away without even noticing, I’m finding I have a greater appreciation for my life these days.”

  He’d like to tell her she hadn’t almost thrown it away, but he couldn’t force the platitude into words. He’d like to claim it didn’t make him happy in the deep recesses of his mind that she perceived her addiction in such a way, but he couldn’t do that either. In truth he was glad she believed choosing another plane of existence, one without him, would have been throwing her life away.

  It was unforgivably selfish of him. But he was just a man, flawed and wanting her love.

  He cursed silently for wandering off into his own vain musings while she contemplated literal life and death decisions. He reached out and took her hand in his, drawing her over to sit down on the edge of the bed beside him. “You don’t think we should go to Machimis.”

  She shook her head. “No, we absolutely should go. If we can capture such a motherlode of inside information, it could make a pivotal difference in the coming war. We need it. AEGIS needs it, my mother needs it. This is why we’re here.

  “I’m merely pausing at the precipice of the cliff, peeking down into the chasm and asking, ‘Are we sure?’ So…” she eyed him wearing an uneasy grimace “…are we sure?”

  He tried to smile as he stroked her hair, to soothe away the grimace, but he suspected his expression ended up a touch complicated. “I appreciate what Eren said, and I empathize with his viewpoint. But I’ve spent my entire adult life risking death for greater causes. This is what I do. It’s who I am.”

  “No, priyazn. You choose who you are every day, and no one decides it but you.”

  It wasn’t a meaningless platitude coming from her. Her own life—now their lives—served as a daily testament to the truth of it, and how he loved her for it. “And you.”

  Her nose scrunched up as she leaned in to rest her head on his shoulder. “Well, maybe a little.”

  “Or a lot.” He kissed her temple, letting his lips linger against her skin for a breath. But finally he drew back and bent his elbow to lift his hand between them. They both considered the faint crimson sparkles that appeared above his palm.

  He’d been thinking a lot about the diati lately. Not a surprise given the circumstances. When it had first come to him, he had felt like a pawn in a cosmic game, one where the stakes were not his own and the rules of play were hidden from him.

  At times he still felt that way, but since the dreams began, his perspective had started to shift. Because Alex was right, more than she realized.

  “I don’t know why this power chose me over the Inquisitor. But I think it might have had something to do with who I…choose to be, and the fact I freely make the choice. We’re sure.”

  33

  ANTLIA DWARF GALAXY

  LGG REGION II

  * * *

  ZORAVAR BAZUK T’YEVK’S HEAD JERKED ABOUT in a violent nodding pantomime as Casmir explained the situation on AD-4508b, the mission and the required outcome.

  The Ch’mshak commander sneered an approval when he finished, and Casmir’s stomach churned in disgust. He forced the neutral countenance to remain on his face, however. “You will receive some degree of cover from our hovertanks and CAS fighters, but we can’t deploy stronger weapons for fear of damaging the trees. Your…” he forced the word out “…people will have to do the bulk of the work, and they’ll have to do it on the ground.”

  “Why we’re here, yes, Navarchos? Get bloody, we will, and spill much blood in return.”

  The guttural barking coming out of the Ch’mshak could hardly be called Communis to any civilized ear, but it sufficed to express intent and inclination. “Yes, it is why you are here. The Kich’s limbs and pincers are dangerous, but their true weapon is their webbing. It will encase you before you realize it and it is unusually strong, so once trapped it will be extremely difficult to escape.”

  T’yevk lifted one of his claws and extended six long, curved talons. “We slice through it.”

  Given what Casmir knew about the talons’ capabilities, he suspected it was true—which was one reason why the Ch’mshak were here. Also their size, strength, physical hardiness and vigorous bloodlust.

  The Ch’mshak were intelligent enough to organize themselves, recognize hierarchies and build rudimentary settlements. They mated and cared for their offspring and buried their dead. But what they wanted to do was fight and kill.

  If unsated for too long, their bloodlust exploded into carnage, and they had only survived as a species long enough to be discovered by Directorate forces because of rapid and copious reproduction. A clan victorious in one of their homeworld conflicts could triple in size before being challenged again.

  Such a barbarous species would normally be Eradicated from orbit without hesitation. But their skill in effecting their brutality was uncommonly impressive, particularly for a species sufficiently evolved to understand and even, if incentivized, obey a more refined civilization’s rules.

  They were rather the oddity, in fact—capable of functioning within a peaceful, ordered society while desiring nothing more than to rip apart limbs in savagery, to kill and die in rivers of blood.

  So a deal was struck. The Directorate agreed not to Eradicate them using their fearsome ‘star-weapons,’ as the Ch’mshak called them, and in return the Ch’mshak agreed to fight on behalf of the Directorate. The
y agreed not to massacre the Directorate’s citizens, and the Directorate provided them regular outlets for their aggression. Outlets such as this one.

  Casmir considered the beast tromping around his conference room, then filed an order for cleaning bots to scour the room as soon as T’yevk departed.

  The Ch’mshak commander stood three meters tall and half as thick. They were bipedal walkers but dropped to all fours when running. Their thick hides were impervious to all but the sharpest, most forceful projectiles, but they wore a layer of armor over barreled chests for additional protection. Massive heads that somehow looked almost small atop their enormous bodies sported four eyes, two at the center and two on the sides. Thick, long tusks didn’t quite fit inside mouths framed by strangely full, saliva-coated lips.

  They were revolting, brutish thugs, but they were also useful thugs.

  He motioned agreement then toward the door. “Very well. Whenever you’re ready, we’ll begin the operation.”

  EXOBIOLOGY RESEARCH LAB #4

  MILKY WAY SECTOR 23

  When Nyx reached Exobiology Research Lab #4, she strode quickly from her berth and through security without stopping while she queried the system for the locations of certain resources then headed directly to the upper labs. A vague warning buzzed at an accelerating frequency at the base of her skull, telling her to make haste.

  Administrator Logiel ela-Erevna stood at a glass wall observing two subjects on the other side. A glance as she approached revealed naked Anatype aliens bearing rich golden skin huddled together on the floor.

  “Fear can enhance a creature’s natural traits, but too often it dampens them instead. They are weak and will have nothing to offer us.” He activated an overlay on the glass and ordered their termination, turning his attention to her an instant before she reached him and demanded it. “Inquisitor Nyx. How may I be of service?”

  “I require the use of your office for an indeterminate period of time. When I’ve concluded my business, I will provide you with two Katasketousya, confined inside diati cages so they cannot escape, as well as their bodies in stasis. Conduct any experiments you wish on them. When you’re finished, kill them.”

  His eyes lit up in macabre delight at the prospect, but he merely gave her a haughty, closed-mouth smile. “Of course, Inquisitor. Consider my office and myself at your disposal for the duration of your stay.”

  Nyx crouched beside the stasis chamber and studied it with a clinical gaze.

  The design was unique—Katasketousya in origin and non-standardized to current regulations. The species had developed the technology and forewent their corporeal bodies millennia before the Anadens had encountered them, and in a gesture of goodwill the Directorate had declined to force them to restructure the pods to Anaden specifications.

  She wiped the condensation off the glass cover and recoiled in disgust at the puny, wilted figure hibernating inside. No wonder the Kats elected to spend their time in spectral form, if this was the alternative.

  She reviewed the readings and controls decorating the outside of the chamber until she was confident she understood their functions.

  Then she increased the internal temperature by five degrees, stood and waited.

  She could have chosen an interrogation room to stage the encounter, but the Katasketousya would perversely take comfort from an inhospitable, clinical environment. On the other hand, they tended to get anxious in enclosed living spaces, so instead she chose the office of the facility’s administrator. The warm, lived-in if overwrought décor could only serve to enhance the expected anxiety.

  The wraithlike form of a great antlered creature swept into the room in less than ten minutes. So they did maintain at least a tenuous connection to their stasis bodies. Good.

  The form shrunk away on seeing her, but didn’t leave the room. Inquisitor. I do not understand. What is the purpose of your possession of my stasis chamber? Why do you toy with it?

  “What is your name?”

  The churning lights moved toward the stasis chamber briefly before it noticed the second chamber in the rear corner of the room. It paused, during which time she expected it began to acquire an inkling of understanding, then grew in size to fill half the room in some sort of display of pride.

  Eusebe.

  “Hello, Eusebe. An Inquisitor has gone missing, and his movements were traced to the Katasketousya Provision Network. What malfeasance are you committing in the Network?”

  I know nothing of these occurrences, Inquisitor. I study stellar dynamics on the periphery of galactic cores’ black hole event horizons. I have never visited the Provision Network.

  She reached down with one hand and turned the temperature on the stasis chamber up another six degrees, her eyes never leaving the vacillating figure.

  “Are the Katasketousya in league with the anarch resistance? Why did you disappear a primitive species prior to its Eradication? What malfeasance are you committing against the Directorate, and how are you using the Provision Network to effect it?”

  Please. There has been a misunderstanding. We are innocent scientists. We serve the Directorate and have done so faithfully for many epochs.

  “I will end your life, Eusebe.” She intended to end it in any event, but across all species no more powerful motivator existed than the possibility of survival, however slight it may be.

  Its presence lunged for the stasis chamber, likely hoping to surround the chamber and spirit it away. Inquisitors had little in common with these eccentric aliens, but the ability to teleport themselves and a variety of objects was one.

  She commanded a wall of diati into existence around the chamber.

  The lights slammed into it, sending a wave of energy cascading out across the room as Eusebe’s essence scattered. A sculpture teetered and fell off the large desk in the center of the office, and the chamber in the corner rattled against the wall.

  Eusebe slowly coalesced into a semi-tangible form once more, shuddered and diminished in size.

  No, please. You cannot.

  “Answer my questions and live. Refuse and die. You have five seconds to decide.”

  PART V:

  GHOST IN THE MACHINE

  “Something unknown is doing we don't know what.”

  — Sir Arthur Eddington

  AURORA

  34

  ROMANE

  IDCC COLONY

  * * *

  THE POWER HAD BEEN RESTORED by the time Richard reached Curación Hospital a little over two hours after the attack. Early evidence indicated the underground maintenance tunnels were infiltrated and the power distribution module for the hospital’s sector spiked with precisely the required amount of power to short it out.

  He sent one of his investigators to work with the utility techs so he could concentrate on the hospital.

  There were enough emergency vehicles outside to service a war zone, but he credentialed his way through the barricades and headed inside.

  Brooklyn Harper met him outside the ICU wing. He didn’t know her well, but they’d bumped into one another a few times on the Presidio in recent weeks. Scattered bloodstains marred her clothes, and the sheen of sweat on her brow suggested she’d been working nonstop since the incident.

  He gave her a sympathetic grimace. “Are the patients all right? And the others?”

  “Lekkas and Emily Bron were unharmed. Mia Requelme, too. She’s currently in Ms. Bron’s room giving Devon Reynolds a dressing down. He has a couple of lacerations and bruises, and if he were remotely human he’d have a savage concussion. As it is….” She shrugged. “Three members of the security detail were injured, two from a nerve gas grenade and one from weapons fire, but they should recover. We’ve got eight dead intruders, all Prevos.”

  Richard scowled at the body bags gracing the hallway. This was the third time in a week he’d stood over dead bodies. Worse, it looked increasingly as though all three instances were tied to one another. “None alive, then?”

  “Sorry. Nonle
thal force wasn’t a viable option.”

  “No need to explain. I’ve been there.” He motioned at the pile of debris a short distance down the hall. It appeared to be the remains of a former wall, given the gaping hole near it. “They used explosives, too?”

  “Uh, no. Mr. Reynolds claims to be responsible for the physical destruction on this floor, with the exception of the window in Ms. Bron’s room.”

  “He ‘claims’?”

  She rubbed at her forehead. “Mia said you were a friend of his? It would be best if he explained it.” She waved Richard down the hall. “You can go talk to him now. I need to borrow Mia, and it’s probably time to break up the catfight in there.”

  The sound of heated voices wafted out as they approached the room with the missing wall.

  “There wasn’t time to ask for your help! And it was only for a second—”

  “Never invade my mind without permission again. Never. Do it again, and we’re done.”

  He reached the opening in time to see Devon lift his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Okay. I felt like I didn’t have another choice, but…I’m sorry.”

  Harper cleared her throat. “Mia, if you have a few minutes, now that the situation is under control there’s a conversation we need to finish.”

  “I’m done here. Oh, Mr. Navick, it’s good you’ve arrived. Malcolm’s looking for you. You barely missed him up here.”

  I just bet he is. He’d read Jenner’s field report on the incident at her house on the way from the Presidio. “Was he caught up in the attack here, too?”

  “No, he was at Headquarters briefing investigators on the earlier attack. He got back here damn fast, though.” She smiled, but it didn’t seem to be for his benefit.

  “I’m sure. I’ll find him as soon as I talk to Devon. I understand you’ve had a busy night, Ms. Requelme.”