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

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Aurora Resonant: The Complete Collection (Amaranthe Collections Book 3) Page 28

by G. S. Jennsen


  He could disable the man holding her hostage, but possibly not without the man harming her on his way down. The Watchman and drones behind him would shoot him the instant he attacked, then shoot her. He and Alex both wore strong personal shields, but they weren’t designed to counteract Anaden weapons. The diati would protect him but not her, not at this distance.

  Caleb held up his hands. “I surrender.”

  Caleb: Valkyrie, take off now. Run, and don’t look back.

  “Well, I don’t.” All heads whipped around to see Eren reemerge out of the shadows to sprint brazenly for the door.

  Weapons fire sliced into him with ruthless efficiency, vaporizing much of his head as what remained collapsed to the floor in a heap of bloodied, crumpled limbs.

  Alex gasped in horror, and all weapons but the garrote returned to Caleb. The Watchman at the door was shaking from elevated tension.

  Valkyrie: But—

  Alex: Go!

  “I surrender. Please, don’t harm her. We surrender.”

  Alex shifted her left arm a few centimeters, exposing the first coil of her bracelet, and met his gaze intently.

  Using the lash on the guard held the same dangers as him attacking with diati. The garrote was simply too damn tight against her neck.

  Caleb: No. It’s too risky.

  “What about the Katasketousya?” The Watchman glared at the man holding Alex. “Where did it go?”

  “Dammit. Institute a Complex-wide lockdown immediately.”

  He hoped Valkyrie had slipped away by now, but there was nothing more he could do to influence her fate from here.

  The Watchman strode up to Caleb and brought a hand up to his neck. “We accept your surrender.”

  He caught the briefest glimpse of Alex collapsing to the floor before everything went black.

  38

  SIYANE

  MILKY WAY SECTOR 36

  * * *

  VALKYRIE FLED.

  Her emotional processes shrieked at her to turn around, to blast away at the Complex in a fevered and futile attempt to rescue Alex. But she fled, because Alex’s next-to-last command before losing consciousness had been to do so, and because her more rational processes, of which she thankfully commanded a higher number, concurred that it was the correct choice.

  Yet the conflict within her own mind was devastating in its agony, threatening to drown her in madness even as she stealthed to elude turret fire then patrol ship fire then orbital node fire and vanish into the void.

  ‘Mesme, do not lose them. We must know where they are taken.’

  I need to consult with Lakhes. I was seen.

  ‘Do NOT lose them, Mnemosyne. Alex ordered me to navigate the portals and transmit the Machim data I copied to Aurora. It will take me seconds to perform this task. When the transmission is complete, I will go to the Idryma and inform Lakhes what has occurred, then we will return to Amaranthe and meet you. Is this acceptable to you?’

  That was the last command Alex had given her—to get the data to Miriam and AEGIS. The fervency with which it had been delivered made clear it was exactly that: a command.

  It is. I will track their movements.

  Good, as she’d been 0.7 seconds away from accusing Mesme of being the cowardly, mewling bootlicker Eren claimed it was. ‘Where is the nearest portal into the Mosaic?’

  Here are the coordinates. Be swift, Valkyrie. Alexis and Caleb are not the only ones who may now have little time remaining.

  This was not going to be an issue, as she intended to elevate ‘swift’ to a new meaning.

  Never had she experienced a more difficult act than leaving Alex behind, in the clutches of the enemy. She finally, truly understood what Humans meant by the phrase ‘gut-wrenching,’ for it indeed felt as if her guts were being ripped apart.

  As her guts were the inner workings of the Siyane, it was for the best the sensation was metaphorical rather than literal.

  It was important to get this data to those in Aurora who could make use of it, for the war would certainly be joined soon now. Sparing a tiny 0.0041% of her processes to scan it, she instantly recognized its value.

  So she raced at 105% safe maximum superluminal speed to the coordinates, which in the smallest boon were located in this galaxy. Still, it took far too long until she reached the location. She passed the time by collating the data into a package perfectly formed to transmit in an efficient, clean stream of qubits.

  She reached the coordinates, opened the hidden gateway and traversed it. Thirty-one nanoseconds later she had mapped the TLF waves and located the Aurora portal.

  One reckless pinpoint superluminal jump later she opened their portal but didn’t traverse it, as with Mesme’s help she had mastered the ability to communicate through the Mosaic’s sub-portals.

  She directed the data stream to Thomas, as well as Devon/Annie, Mia/Meno, Morgan and of course Vii, confident from them it would make its way where it needed to go.

  As soon as the last qubit transmitted through the portal, she pivoted, executed another, equally reckless superluminal jump, then traversed the Idryma portal.

  The structure itself as they perceived it existed in the sidespace dimension; it felt unnatural to access it without Alex’s mind taking the lead, but she could manage it enough for her purpose.

  She shouted into the empyrean realm. Praetor Lakhes!

  Doubtless aware of her presence from the moment she entered the portal, if not sooner, the Praetor materialized in the cabin before she had completed the expressed thought.

  Sentient ship. We meet yet again.

  ‘Mnemosyne urgently requires your presence in Amaranthe. Will you come with me?’

  I will. Let us make haste.

  39

  ANARCH POST ALPHA

  MILKY WAY SECTOR 59

  * * *

  EREN AWOKE IN A RUSH of searing awareness.

  Though he’d experienced the transition often—a dozen times? twenty?—it still took several agonizing seconds for the waves of disorientation and existential panic to subside and his mind to recognize the familiar contours of the skin and bones holding him together, then the sterile walls and soft linens of the restoration capsule.

  Regenesis.

  With the recognition came memory. He almost bolted upright, catching himself an instant before he slammed his forehead into the transparent cover. Instead, he waited impatiently for the Curative unit to clear him and the cover to slide away.

  The virtual image of his handler appeared above him. “Eren, did you encounter a problem during the mission? Exobiology Research Lab #4 is still intact and functional.”

  He hauled himself out of the capsule and pushed past the Curative unit in search of clothes, ignoring the wave of dizziness washing over him; standing too quickly was the least of his worries.

  “That’s not important right now. I need to see Xanne.”

  All Anaden anarchs tried to shed the vestiges of their Dynasty when they joined, in acknowledgment of how they were becoming a part of something greater—and because they invariably hated their Dynasty and wanted to distance themselves completely from all aspects of it. But when specific traits were inbred so thoroughly by the Dynasty system, at best genetics could be fought to a stalemate.

  Xanne was a friendly, engaging woman with a warm smile and a comforting manner. But she nevertheless managed things—her agents, mission distributions, the machine units and the regenesis system. She kept everything orderly and ordered, such that instructions never became crossed nor did confusion about duties arise.

  These were all good things, and this errant bunch of misfits and troublemakers would fall apart without her efforts. But despite her best efforts, she was nevertheless Kyvern Dynasty to her core.

  He could see the procession of concerns race across her eyes as she imagined the myriad ways his story was already spawning evil tentacles of chaos.

  “You should have reported this encounter the instant you were free of these individuals. The e
xtent to which you went off-mission and outside your bounds is frankly egregious. What were you thinking?”

  “It just sort of happened.”

  “You just sort of happened to meet two individuals belonging to a previously unknown species, a rogue Kat and an unshackled SAI. Then you just sort of happened to help them plan an infiltration of Machim Central Command, after which you just sort of happened to land on Machimis, infiltrate the Central Command Complex alongside them, hack the Complex’s data server and null out on Vigil weaponry as a means of escape?”

  He shrugged. “It was an irresistible adventure. You can see that, can’t you? Also, you wouldn’t have authorized the mission if I’d brought it to you.”

  “Eren—”

  “We’re anarchists, Xanne. What do you expect?”

  “Being an anarch means you focus your rebellion into targeted, useful strikes against the Directorate.”

  He smirked. “Well, this was definitely a strike against the Directorate.”

  She glared at him. “You’re not funny, Eren—not today. We’ll need to evaluate what this means for us and for our operatives in the field.”

  “We need to ‘evaluate’? No, what we need to do is rescue them.”

  “These mysterious aliens you’ve apparently been traipsing around with? They are almost certainly long dead.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think so. They’ll be interrogated extensively first. Eventually they’ll be handed over to Erevna scientists. They succeeded in breaking into Machim Central Command and hacking its most secure data server, and no one will know what they are or where they came from. Praesidis won’t be able to resist the mystery, and the Directorate won’t let the ignominy stand.”

  “Do you know what they are?”

  He heard the curiosity in her voice; he may have hooked her. “They’re…us. Only they’re not from any Dynasty or any place we’ve colonized. They’ve never existed here, in our civilization, yet they’re far more advanced than most Accepted Species are when the Directorate finds them.”

  He squared his shoulders. He was loyal to the anarchs, but they did not own him or his free will. “And they are without a doubt on our side, so I’m going to go break them out of whichever Praesidis interrogation facility they’re being held in. Now, I’d truly appreciate any help you can offer, but whether you give it or not, I’m doing this.”

  She stared up at the ceiling for several seconds. “How will you figure out where they’re being held?”

  Yep, he had her. Kyvern or not, she was an anarch for a reason. “The Kat will know, and I can contact it. Failing that, the SAI ought to have been able to escape, and I can also reach her—it.”

  “A rebel Kat…unbelievable. I’m not sure I’m prepared to consider the implications of the SAI.”

  “If Mnemosyne is to be believed, all the Kats are rebels.”

  “And the fact we missed it should trouble us.” She nodded and transitioned smoothly back into management mode. “All right. I’m assigning you a new ship, but give me an hour before you run off on a tear of righteous stupidity. By then I’ll be able to tell you if I can give you anything more.”

  As soon as Eren departed, Xanne activated a secure communications channel. “Sator Nisi, I request an audience. Something unusual has happened.”

  The anarch resistance honored its moniker as much as was practical for an organization, which meant it fostered enough chaos to make her uncomfortable.

  As a group, they had no formal title. Their structure was horizontal, with only the most minimal oversight in place as was required to enable work to be done, information to be both protected and shared, and members to be cared for. The agents were not slaves to a Primor or indentured servants to a bureaucracy. The relationship forged between the loosely organized anarch governance and its front-line participants was designed to be a mutually beneficial one in the service of a common goal.

  But the anarchs did have a leader. Though he remained in the shadows whenever possible and claimed no fame or accolades, none who knew him questioned his status as guide, mentor and principal. He commanded their respect and their loyalty, not because he demanded it but because he earned it.

  His response arrived swiftly. “Of course, Xanne. I’m free for the next hour, so arrive whenever you are ready.”

  She left her office for an area of the Post few were aware existed, including Eren. After clearing several layers of security—unusual here but necessary in this case—she stepped up to and through the teleportation aperture. More technology they were forbidden to possess, as the apparatuses were strictly reserved for the Primors and their closest aides.

  The atoms comprising her body reappeared somewhere else. She recognized the room, for it was always the same, but not the location, for it constantly changed.

  ANARCH POST SATUS

  LOCATION UNKNOWN

  Danilo Nisi sensed Xanne’s presence from the excitation of the teleportation particles even before the air shifted to make room for her body. He heard her footfall as she stepped off the pad and altered her posture in preparation for the audience.

  The heightened senses were neither a blessing nor a curse, and rarely of practical use beyond allowing him to judge the disposition of people using more nuanced tools than they perceived. Merely an unintended product of a very unique genome.

  “Sator Nisi, how fare you?”

  He turned from the window, one of several spanning the circular room, and the cloudless night sky outside. “Well, Xanne ela-Kyvern. How fare you?”

  “Troubled, sir.” She approached and handed him a Reor slab without fanfare. One of the many reasons Xanne was an excellent supervisor was the way she accommodated the varied idiosyncrasies of all those she worked with. In his case, she knew he preferred to evaluate raw data himself, prior to hearing the presenter’s spin on it.

  He rotated the slab slowly between his fingers, reading it, absorbing the contents as they transferred into his mind.

  When he was done, he handed it back to her then returned to gaze out the window for a full minute before speaking. “One of these ‘Humans’ wielded diati? The agent is certain of it?”

  “Yes, Sator. The man’s command of it was effectual enough to disable two guards, a Watchman and several Vigil units multiple times, including blocking their path using a diati wall, at least for a short period of time.”

  “Yet he is not Praesidis?”

  “He is not even Anaden…not exactly. I realize there are numerous ways to disguise one’s nature, but the agent spent many hours in the company of these individuals and is quite convinced on both counts.”

  “Good agent?”

  “Reckless. Young, with repressed shame issues that lead to periodic restiveness. A suicidal flair for the dramatic.” She lifted her shoulders a touch. “Idoni. But like all of us, he strives to live beyond his genetic limitations. He is exceptionally clever, resourceful and brave, as well as far more observant than he lets on. So, yes. Very good.”

  Danilo walked the expansive room twice. He should not abandon reason in favor of rash conclusions born of fanciful dreams.

  Finally he paused to place a hand atop one of the chaise lounges spaced appropriately around the room. “We must proceed with caution. We cannot throw our full resources into a rescue—not at a Praesidis stronghold and not for two individuals we know nothing about. We won’t risk exposing ourselves based on so little information. They could be spies sent to infiltrate us, or they could serve a secret agenda at odds with our own.

  “At a minimum, they are not the first newcomers to arrive proclaiming their intention to end the Directorate’s reign, and all who came before them now lie forgotten in the graveyard of history.”

  He smiled to counter Xanne’s darkening expression. “But we also cannot be so fearful we turn away from the unknown simply because the variables have yet to fully reveal themselves and the outcome is not predetermined. Down that path lies Primors and integrals and a delusional vision of perfect
order and control.”

  Hope lit her features, a sight which both warmed his heart and burdened his soul. Neither were new experiences.

  “See to it our agent has the tools he needs to gain entry to the facility where they’re being held. Give him perimeter support, but not an army. He doesn’t need one in any case, as stealth provides the sole chance for success in this situation.

  “Also, ensure he has a new body waiting on him after the mission, should he need or be forced to sacrifice his current one…” his brow creased as the file on Eren asi-Idoni filtered through his consciousness “…which he seems to have an impressive habit of doing. In any event, I’ll authorize what you need to accelerate the process.”

  He walked over to the wide cabinet behind his desk and retrieved a small canister. The truth was Xanne had no way to give the agent a means to access a Praesidis interrogation facility. In addition to varied other security measures, each such facility was protected by an impassable sphere of diati. Only one thing in the universe could penetrate such a barrier, and that was diati itself.

  So he concentrated on the open top of the canister until it was filled, then capped it and brought it to her. “Also, give him this, along with the instructions for its use I’m sending to you now.”

  “Yes, Sator. And if he succeeds in freeing them? How should I advise him regarding their…future? And what of the Katasketousya who accompanied them?”

  He patted her arm in reassurance. “One step at a time, Xanne. Let us focus on dousing the fire currently consuming lives first.”

  “I understand. I’ll keep you updated on developments. Nos libertatem somnia.”

  “Nos libertatem somnia, my friend.”

  She retreated to the aperture and vanished, leaving him alone with a turmoil of thoughts at once inspirited and disquieting.

  He had been here before, too many times to allow optimism to take hold. Yet a very long time ago his mother had taught him to never lose faith in the promise each tomorrow held, and so he would not.

 

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