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

by G. S. Jennsen

  “Forever. Or until it runs out of fuel, whichever comes first.”

  Casmir was not a scientist, so it took him a few seconds to piece together the fact that the fuel was space and to run out meant….

  If Fisik were a Machim, or anything less than an elasson, Casmir would wipe the smirk off his face in a most unpleasant manner—slowly, so the man suffered at some length before being allowed to die and be reborn.

  But he did not indulge the desire. He had important orders from his Primor to execute on, and the timetable left no room for vengeful torture. “Dangerous weapon. I assume we do have a method for shutting it down?”

  “We do. It is not an immaculate process, and there is, shall we say, slag. But, yes, we can halt the black hole’s growth.”

  “Well, that’s a relief. How many of them have you made?”

  “Only the one.”

  “I see. Will you excuse me a moment?” Casmir looked around for the Inquisitor and urged him toward a secluded corner. “What is so special about this little petri dish the Katasketousya are experimenting in? What is so nefarious the Directorate is willing to deploy…” he glanced over his shoulder “…that to destroy it?”

  Ziton stared at him coldly, but an Inquisitor’s stare was always cold. “I will tell you, because I’ve been authorized to do so, but first a word of caution. If we weren’t needed to carry out this mission, no one outside the Primors themselves would ever learn this information.”

  “We both deal in secrets, Inquisitor. I know the rules.”

  “You’ve been briefed on the reasons for the larger mission, correct? You know what the Katasketousya are doing in these secret portal spaces?”

  “Of course.”

  “In the portal the Tartarus Trigger is destined for, they recreated us.”

  “I don’t—”

  “They bred primitive Anadens and allowed them to evolve. They groomed them for war. Unable and unwilling to do the fighting themselves, they intend to use a bastardized knock-off of our ancestors as their weapons in a traitorous ploy to destroy the Directorate, the Primors and all of us.”

  Casmir almost choked on the revulsion. Of all the vile, reprehensible tactics! If it were up to him, he’d fire the Tartarus into the Provision Network Gateway and bury the whole construct in darkness.

  But this was why he was not Primor; the Directorate proved wiser and shrewder than he. The citizens required the food, goods and materials the Provision Network provided, and they should not be punished for the Katasketousya’s betrayal.

  “You understand now, yes? The Igni missiles will sever the realms attached to the other portals from Amaranthe for eternity, but this abomination cannot be allowed to continue to exist. In any form. In any universe.”

  Casmir nodded solemnly. “I understand. Let us see to it the device is loaded posthaste. I believe we should be on our way.”

  56

  ANARCH POST SATUS

  LOCATION UNKNOWN

  * * *

  EREN AWOKE WITH FAR MORE sluggishness than usual. The transition was definitely getting worse. His consciousness had hardly had the chance to accept and settle into the last body properly before he was shoving it into a new one.

  He was using regenesis too frequently; this much was becoming painfully obvious. The process had been designed to compensate for freak accidents and other untimely deaths, not three null outs in hardly a month.

  Honestly, he was surprised to find he had a new body to inhabit so soon after the last one had been called into service—or had his essence been frozen in limbo until a new one was ready? How long? What had he missed?

  Then he remembered he had a cybernetic clock, checked it, and dialed down the panic on seeing the gap was measured in hours, not years.

  Regardless, he couldn’t worry about the ramifications of too many body swaps right now. It was necessary, dammit. And now he needed to shake off the lethargy and crawl out of this capsule and get to work. He believed his friends had escaped the Helix Retention facility, but in doing so they had surely set off a cosmic furor of epic proportions, one which stood a decent chance of shaking Amaranthe to its very core.

  No way was he missing the show.

  So he worked to force his eyes open, struggling against the compelling desire to sink back into restful sleep. The capsule felt softer than usual. And roomier. He started to attribute it to his addled state…but thanks to his frequent capsule visits he knew what they felt like, and this one felt different.

  He wasn’t in the recovery ward at Post Alpha. He’d been returned to life somewhere else. Somewhere new.

  That realization got his eyes to pop open quite spryly.

  Instead of the usual Curative unit, he found a man hovering above the capsule. Dressed in a modest but well-appointed jacket over a silken shirt, the man’s irises were a raven black that hinted at indigo and even a brighter sapphire in the shifting light. His features were hard, guarded, yet somehow kind.

  The cover retracted, and the man smiled at him. “Hello, Eren. I am Sator Danilo Nisi. You must tell me everything.”

  57

  KATOIKIA

  TRIANGULUM GALAXY

  LGG REGION VI

  * * *

  THE MACHIM FORMATION ECLIPSED Katoikia’s sun to cast a shadow across the world.

  The warships wasted no time engaging in the formalities of warnings or pronouncements. They simply opened fire.

  There would be no Cultivation Unit to follow behind and scavenge for resources—Katoikia was to serve both as an example and as an implicit threat—and the weapons cut through the land like rampaging tempests.

  Hours earlier, the pronouncement had resounded across the cosmos for all to hear: the Katasketousya’s status as an Accepted Species was hereby revoked. And since there were only three categories, Accepted, Slave and Eradicated, it didn’t need to be stated what happened next—but the Directorate had stated it nonetheless. Members of the species were ‘kill on sight’ by anyone, anywhere, free of repercussions.

  The reality that the sole way to kill a Katasketousya was to disable their stasis chamber meant the decree had little practical impact, but the psychological one was tragic in its significance.

  Now the footage of this desecration of their homeworld would be blared across every feed, projection and marquee as a demonstration of the Directorate’s power and authority. A reminder to all to never cross it.

  The disruptions in the crust from the powerful weapons soon generated earthquakes. The land split apart in ragged fissures; the towers crumbled and fell into the fissures to be swallowed up by the earth. Volcanoes erupted as magma surged upward from the planet’s mantle to bathe the land in lava. The oceans boiled and tsunamis crashed forth to drown the lava.

  In an hour Katoikia had been ravaged from pole to pole. Not a particle of soil remained undisturbed. Not a structure remained intact.

  In time, its orbit would falter and it would either fall into its sun, drift away or break apart entirely. For now it hung brutally in the sky, beaten and broken.

  Lakhes watched on from above, safely hidden inside a ship and behind shields and barriers, having left Mnemosyne to fulfill its own urgent mission.

  It seemed as if aeons had slipped by, second by meticulous second—then abruptly time and events rushed headlong forward so rapidly everything appeared to happen at once. The hurricane could not be tamed, yet someone must attempt to do so.

  Lakhes accepted its role as that individual. But first, a moment to linger here. As a witness, and a chronicler.

  Had the Katasketousya once shed tears, when they were tied to their bodies and to the ground? Lakhes had lived longer than most, but it could not say. The soulful ache the scene evoked felt as if it were too much to bear without some release, some physical assertion of the sorrow.

  Yet there was great relief to be found in the scene as well, for the towers had been empty. If lives had been lost, they numbered in the dozens, or possibly hundreds. But not millions.

/>   Lakhes’ attention followed the warships as they withdrew from orbit and vanished. They had not stopped to check and confirm the towers were occupied before wreaking their destruction. Perhaps their arrogance led them to assume the Katasketousya were both helpless and uninformed, or to believe the notion of attempting to flee the Directorate’s wrath a ludicrous one.

  Even so, given this was supposed to be an Eradication, they probably should have thought to do that.

  MOSAIC

  IDRYMA

  Hyperion brooded through the halls of an ancillary wing of the Idryma. This had been Hyperion’s primary activity since being banned from Amaranthe, which was why Lakhes had no difficulty finding the Analystae.

  Hyperion whipped into an elaborate horned owl avatar on Lakhes’ arrival. Vanity was not one of its better qualities.

  “Praetor, how gracious of you to pay me a visit. Come to ensure I have not been troublesome?”

  “Hyperion, I ask you to put aside ill sentiments and remember you have served the Idryma for epochs. I suspect you have served it because you believe profoundly in its purpose. If this is not so, say it and I will leave you to your lamentations.”

  “And if it is so, Praetor?”

  “I will ask you to serve it once more.”

  “You offer to lift my exile from Amaranthe?”

  Lakhes did not answer the question asked. “You directed an armada of warships in a campaign against the Humans. We are not fighters, but you have traveled closer to the reality of warring than the rest of us.”

  “An act for which I will not express remorse, so if your intent is to shame me I regret to disappoint.”

  Lakhes had spent cosmic ages manipulating the various personalities of the Conclave in such ways as to maintain harmony, cooperation and furtherance of all of their goals. Its skill in this endeavor was a primary reason why it was Praetor and the only reason why it did not so much as flinch at the provocation.

  “You did so to cow them or, failing that, eliminate them, but the result was instead to unite them and urge them forward to greater accomplishments. For this, I am most grateful. Now you must listen, because our remaining time to act is no longer measured in centuries, but hours.”

  Hyperion stilled. “Speak, then.”

  “A new armada has been constructed and is awakened. Lead it—not against the Humans but alongside them. Add our forces to theirs in a gambit to destroy the Machim invaders who seek to destroy us both.”

  Lakhes sensed Hyperion’s anxiety in the tremoring of the waves beneath its form, and waited.

  “You realize we may merely be trading one master for another, and there is no guarantee the Humans will be the better option? I have seen their capacity for cruelty.”

  “As have I, but I have also seen their capacity for kindness. Yes, it is a risk, but it is one I will gladly bear. Regardless, it matters not, for the die has been cast. Katoikia is gone. We are declared for Eradication and hunted throughout Amaranthe. A fleet of warships approaches to shatter the Mosaic and all it holds. We stand up now or perish for eternity.”

  ‘Eternity’ was not a word the Katasketousya used lightly, for they appreciated the magnitude of its meaning more than most, and Hyperion drew into itself. “I have devoted the entirety of my existence to ensuring our survival. I will stand.”

  “Then come, and let us wage our war at last.”

  AURORA

  58

  ROMANE

  IDCC COLONY

  * * *

  THEY’D MOVED EMILY FROM the chamber in the ICU wing into a normal bed in a normal room by the time Devon got back to the hospital. He’d showered—for the second time today no less—donned fresh clothes and even eaten a meal while on the transport, all so he could appear the perfect picture of normalcy to her when she woke up.

  Because she wasn’t awake yet. Dr. Johansson said he expected her to wake up. Mia said she was going to wake up. Soon.

  He tried not to dwell on how frail she still looked as he moved the guest chair over beside the bed and sat down to wait.

  Devon sensed her in his mind before his hand felt the movement of her fingers in its grasp.

  Instantly he was leaning over her, one hand squeezing hers while the other gently stroked her hair. “Hey, babe. Can you hear me?” Hey, babe, can you hear me?

  I…. “Devon?” Her eyes fluttered open.

  He smiled broadly. “I’m right here.”

  She started to return the smile, then frowned and licked her lips; he retrieved the canister of water and offered it to her. Her brow knotted up as she sipped on it. “What happened? We were…leaving the amphitheater and…I don’t remember.”

  “We were attacked by some thugs, and you got hurt. But you’re going to be just fine.”

  She blinked several times. “Am I in a hospital? My eVi’s all messed up.”

  “The doctors had to flush your cybernetics. But the good news is, this means we can write you the snazziest custom ware anybody’s ever seen. It’ll be better than before. Does that sound okay to you?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. That sounds like fun. What did the attackers want?”

  “They wanted to hurt me. But I took care of it, so they won’t threaten us anymore. I’ll never let them hurt you again.”

  The alert from Alex blasted into his mind, but he ignored it. Instead, he pulled a crystal out of his pocket and put it on the bedside table.

  With a touch, colorful holo flowers burst to life and began rotating above the crystal.

  Emily’s face lit up in delight, and he thought he might die from happiness.

  Devon, about the—

  I don’t care, Annie. They can fight this battle without me.

  Mia studied Malcolm in growing suspicion as they settled onto the couch after dinner—the first proper, appetizing meal she’d successfully consumed since the night of the celebration. “You’re unusually edgy tonight.”

  Granted, she knew what his reply would be before he said it; her thought was getting it out in the open may help him move past it. The edginess, as it were.

  He huffed a breath, looking blatantly chagrined, and she rescued him by lounging her back against his chest and snuggling in close.

  “After everything that’s happened—after it tried to hurt you, hurt Morgan and that girl—I kind of wanted to invade New Babel with an army and smash the murderous Artificial to pieces with my bare hands. I’m glad we were able to destroy it without bloodshed on our side, but…I’m a little disappointed I didn’t get a fight. Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It’s understandable.”

  He hugged her closer. “Maybe, but you deserve to relax, and I should be helping with that—so no more edginess from me.”

  Mia trailed her fingertips lazily up his forearm. She felt simultaneously bone-tired weary and energized from sheer relief that the nightmare was over, but mostly she was happy to be here, now, in a position where she could afford to find his oh-so-honorable bloodlust cute.

  “You know, you’re not as different from him as you think.”

  “Who?”

  “Caleb.” She held up a hand when she caught the expression flaring on his face. “I know, you don’t approve of his career or many of the life choices he’s made along the way. And believe me, you have a far, far greater respect for authority than he’s ever shown. No question. I’m simply saying you two share a fierce sense of right and wrong, and a determination to defend not merely the people close to you but all innocents from harm. Your response to these attacks has made that quite clear.”

  Malcolm was silent for a moment, staring not at her but at the floor. “You care a lot about him, don’t you?”

  “Yes. He extended a hand and lifted me out of the gutter, and he’s been there for me ever since.” This wasn’t a secret or a surprise, was it?

  His eyes shot up to her, and the shift in his posture had the effect of nudging her away. “He wasn’t there for you when you were left lying in a coma, or when you had to flee for your
life from Earth.”

  The acerbity of his tone gave her pause. She’d picked up on the fact he didn’t like Caleb, but this was another level of animus, or something else.

  “He was and is doing important work to help protect all of us. I don’t expect him to come running to my rescue every time life gets hard.” She smiled and placed a hand on his knee. The last thing she’d meant to do was start an argument with her idle rambling. “Besides, you’re here, and doing an excellent job of protecting me when I need it.”

  Instead of accepting the compliment, Malcolm lowered his chin and slid farther away, eyes hooded. His Adam’s Apple bobbed several times. “Mmm.”

  He winced, studied the floor for several more seconds, then stood as she regarded him in growing confusion. “Okay. I’m going to go now.”

  She hurriedly stood as well. “All right. I bet you have a lot of work to do back at the Presidio, which you’ve been neglecting to be here with me. Once I’m confident Emily and Morgan are improving, I can come by and visit. If not tomorrow, definitely—”

  “No.”

  The quiet but firm delivery sent her stomach churning. “No?”

  “I don’t mean—of course if you have business with AEGIS or…or anyone else you can come to the Presidio. But…” his jaw trembled, but his eyes refused to meet hers “…not to see me.”

  “I’m not sure I understand…and I think I missed something rather important.”

  He sighed and finally allowed his gaze to settle on her, but a soldier’s mask hid any emotion. Impenetrable. “I know I’m so very far from perfect—I know I’m a small cog in a large machine—but I do have some pride. Enough pride to refuse to be the one you get when you can’t have the one you want.

  “Mia, you are a wonderful, amazing, extraordinary woman, and I will always be grateful to have been able to spend this time with you. But I will not be what you settle for.” He turned on a heel and strode toward the door.