12
AFS STALWART II
MILKY WAY SECTOR 53
* * *
THE TRANSPORT DOCKED ON A Stalwart II in the throes of distress, caught somewhere between shock and desolation.
Malcolm had assured Mia their efforts in Amaranthe were going well, but while he was away retrieving her something had clearly gone awry. What that ‘something’ could be wasn’t apparent in the early minutes of their approach and docking, and as soon as they disembarked Malcolm left her with a security officer and an apology before hurrying off to learn the nature and extent of the calamity.
Mia put considerable effort into not coming off as bewildered or needy while the distracted security officer tried to find a deck worker to offload her belongings from the cargo hold of the transport and tag them so they’d eventually wind up wherever she did. She hadn’t brought much: a single valise of clothes and personals, the emergency gear bag she’d kept packed, updated and ready ever since the Metigen invasion, and a small case containing Meno’s core quantum orbs and associated hardware. But two of the three were quite valuable, so she tracked their status until they disappeared up a service lift.
The security officer escorted her out of the hangar and to a meeting room several decks up, then disappeared as well.
Once the door closed behind him, she surveyed her surroundings. The room included a kitchen unit and a comfortable chair next to it, in addition to the expected conference table and its complement of stiffer chairs. Her belongings were stacked in a corner.
They didn’t know what to do with her yet.
She exhaled slowly. Then she dropped her shoulder bag in the corner with the rest of her stuff, fixed herself a coffee, and settled into the cozier chair to review the extensive briefing package she’d been provided.
Alex tossed a brief wave in Mia’s direction as the woman followed a security officer onto the lift, but she didn’t stop to chat on her way to the transport.
She met Kennedy at the bottom of the ramp with an enthusiastic hug. “Thank you so much for coming. I’m sorry I couldn’t invite you in person. There were factors, and I needed to be here.”
“No doubt. It sounds like you all have half a dozen problems and at least as many new ideas to implement. So I’m here. And bonus, I brought another 3,200 warships with me.”
“Good, because apparently we lost 2,734 today.”
“What?”
“It’s a war story I don’t have the details of yet, but suffice it to say today’s AEGIS mission did not go well. Also, the anarchs are being hunted, tortured and killed by the Directorate on multiple fronts. Welcome to Amaranthe?”
“Thanks?”
Alex laughed wryly. “You bet. I wouldn’t want you to miss out on the show.”
“If the show turns out to be a horror vid, I might want to miss it.”
“Nah. We’ll straighten things out. And you’re going to help make it happen.”
Kennedy winced. “I can’t promise how much help I’ll be, but I’m told volleying questions and answers back and forth between universes isn’t a viable plan.”
“Yeah, we're severely restricting portal traversals. We can't allow the enemy to discover any of the portals, so they have to be moved after every use, and it’s a genuine ordeal for the Kats—Katasketousya—Metigens—to move them.”
“ ‘We’? Are you in charge now?”
Alex grimaced. “Hell if I know. Mom’s definitely in charge, but she’s sort of including me in decisions, seeking me out for advice…it’s surreal. Much like everything else here. Prepare to be weirded out on a regular basis.”
“I’m ready. Show me some aliens.”
“There aren't actually any aliens on the ship at present. Soon. If Mia can silver-tongue the anarchs into playing nice, you'll be surrounded by aliens before you know it. For now, I got you a room onboard here. Well, a bunk with a door.”
She peered past Kennedy’s shoulder as Noah arrived, three bags in tow. “It’s almost a double bunk? I’m sure you won’t mind the coziness at night. But all the ships are getting a little crowded, I'm afraid, mostly due to the fact the fleet doesn’t have anywhere to land. I'd ask you two to stay on the Siyane, but we tend to move around a lot. And get shot at, also a lot.”
“Doesn’t the Stalwart II get shot at, too?”
“Yes, but it’s…um, it tries to stay near the rear of battles? The better to command or whatever? Besides, you know full well it’s damn near indestructible.”
Kennedy gave her a skeptical look as she accepted one of the bags from Noah and slung it over her free shoulder. “True. Sounds exciting.”
“That’s one word for it.” Alex offered Noah a nod in greeting. “Caleb’s not here. He’s getting a couple of anarchs we rescued home safely. He’ll be back soon, though, and I’ll tell him you’ve arrived. Did I mention it’s weird here at the moment?”
Noah considered the activity across the hanger with a dubious expression. “I’m getting that feeling. Comms don’t work here?”
She made a prevaricating gesture. “There’s no exanet, but direct comms—pulses and livecomms anyway—still work. AEGIS has constructed a new messaging system, but we’ll need to get you added to the directory. And if you talk to…” she glanced around, trying to find the staff sergeant amid all the running in circles and gnashing of teeth “…that guy, he can show you to your room.”
Noah shrugged, leaned in and kissed Kennedy on the temple, then strode off.
“If you want to go with him and get settled in, it’ll be a few hours—”
Kennedy shook her head. “Before we end up surrounded by people and duties take over….” She dropped the larger bag on the floor and dug into her shoulder bag. After rummaging around for a second, she produced a smoky onyx cube about eight centimeters wide. She held it out for Alex to take.
Alex’s brow furrowed as she accepted it. She rotated it in her hands. The exterior seemed to be a protective casing, so she located the tiny seam lining one face and started to open it.
Kennedy reached out and laid a hand on her arm. “Not here. We should take it to the Siyane.”
“We can’t. Caleb has the Siyane right now. What is it?”
“What do you think it is?”
Alex stared at the cube again, then back at Kennedy. As the possible and only and inevitable answer blossomed in her mind, her pulse increased so rapidly a surge of dizziness threatened to buckle her knees.
She tried to clear a lump from her throat; even so, her voice came out raspy. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Tell me everything.”
Immersed in the baffling, convoluted world of Amaranthe, Mia had lost track of the passing time when the door opened and Caleb walked in.
“There you are.”
She leapt up and met him halfway with a quick embrace. Next she stepped away to study him, for it had been several months since he’d left for Amaranthe.
His clothes were rumpled and dirty—no, bloody. It meant he’d come straight here from some harrowing venture. The crimson highlights in his irises had increased to the point they would be disconcerting without the familiar warmth of his countenance.
He otherwise didn’t look any different, other than his hair having grown out again, enough for it to match the unkempt state of his clothes. But he was different, albeit in ways she sensed rather than saw. Was the diati changing him, or was Amaranthe? Perhaps it was, more fundamentally, the trial by fire that seemed to follow him from universe to universe which was transforming him.
But his smile was the same as it had been for the last fourteen years, and she mirrored it. “I had better not find out you’re responsible for me being here.”
“I’m not, but I won’t lie and say I’m not glad you are here. Sorry I missed your arrival. I had to drop off a couple of anarchs somewhere safe. How’s home?”
“Changing quickly—but changing peacefully. Thus far. Hopefully it’ll hold while I’m gone. So what’s happene
d? Everyone’s fretting and scrambling about looking grave, and they’re all too busy to talk to me.”
“I’ve only just now gotten the details myself, but apparently we got our asses royally kicked at one of the wormhole gateways a few hours ago. A sizeable Machim force was hiding nearby, and they were waiting for us when our fleet came through. We lost a lot of people and a fair number of ships, including the Virginia.”
She called up the ship’s info. “Admiral Rychen?”
“Didn’t make it. No one from the Virginia did. It was vaporized by antimatter missiles, along with an entire Arx—a massive space station paired to a wormhole gateway—filled with almost eleven thousand civilians. The Machim are ruthless bastards when it comes to warfare.”
“Damn.” Her first thought was of Malcolm. He was going to take Rychen’s death hard—was surely already taking it hard, yet powering ahead nonetheless, not daring to show any vulnerability to his peers or subordinates.
Her second thought was of how the defeat might complicate her ostensible purpose here. Unless played perfectly, negotiating from a position of weakness rarely won the desired results. “I feel weird asking this, but is there anything else? I suspect everything I’ve learned in the last day is now outdated.”
Caleb dragged a hand down his face. He scowled at the dirt and blood it came away with, then went over to the kitchen unit and splashed water from the sink on his face. “Vigil—the Directorate’s security force—has launched an extensive sweep in search of anarch spies, locking down facilities and interrogating everyone caught in the lockdowns using the unpleasant tools at their disposal. Anarch agents are trained to suicide if caught. Many of their agents aren’t Anaden and can’t use regenesis, so it’s safe to say they’re losing people left and right.”
Marginally cleaned up, he returned to prop on the edge of the conference table. “Alex and I rescued a few of their agents caught in the sweep, but the group doesn’t have the resources to rescue anywhere close to all of its people. So, I’m afraid things are a bit of a disaster currently. I’m sorry you had to arrive in the middle of all this chaos.”
“Don’t be. It’s hardly your fault.” The anarchs were taking hits, too, which meant AEGIS wasn’t in as disadvantaged a position as she’d feared. It also meant the anarchs may have less to offer AEGIS.
She sank back against the table next to him. “I do have to wonder, though, what this means for me. I’m not trying to be selfish, but I don’t want to be in the way, or shirk my responsibilities at home if I can’t do any good here. If the situation’s changed so drastically, does anyone genuinely need me here now?”
He shook his head. “On the contrary, your arrival is most timely. I think you’re about to be needed more than ever. It’ll take a few hours for the triage to take effect, but Miriam will have order restored soon. Once she does, get ready to be thrown into the deep end.”
Mia rolled her eyes gamely. “All right. I’ve been trying to get up to speed, but the trip was short and the information voluminous, so I’m not there yet.”
“Believe me, I understand. It took us weeks to begin to grasp the nonsensical nature of this place, and every day brings new surprises still.
“I’d say to concentrate on the information covering the anarchs first. It’ll be up to Miriam, but odds are she’ll want to get you an audience with Nisi, their leader, ASAP. In the long run, they need us, far more than they’ve been willing to admit. But right now, the truth is we need them.”
She mentally added the new nuances to the growing web of information—history, dossiers, leadership structures, needs, goals and weaknesses—that would inform her work. “Politicians I can do. Underneath their bluster, pomp and ego, most are entirely predictable.”
“Not this one.”
13
SOLUM
PRAESIDIS COMMAND
MILKY WAY SECTOR 1
* * *
NYX AGAIN FOUND HERSELF AT THE HEIGHTS of Praesidis Command, again summoned for an audience with her Primor. Such was the way of these things. All came to him, he never to them.
The immensity of his power meant he could travel anywhere at any time without concern or consequence. She was certain he in fact did so often, but always on his own time and initiative. He would not be summoned.
She was proud to interact so closely with her Primor, confident in her prerogative to do so and humbled to fall ever short of his lofty example. But the Praesidis Dynasty valued strength—of conviction, of will, of rightness—so she held her head high and strode with assurance as she entered. She’d shown weakness in their previous meeting, ever so briefly. He had indulged her in light of the extreme circumstances, but she was not fool enough to presume he would be so forgiving of further lapses.
The Primor emerged out of his integral sphere facing her. “Nyx, my dear. Please, join me.”
She bowed in greeting then trailed him as the far wall dissolved and the brisk winter air whipped in. A star-soaked night above an endless, perpetually lit city stretched out before them.
“You uncovered an anarch spy working for Avdei elasson-Idoni.”
“Yes, sir. The anarch had operated right under the nose of the elasson for decades.” She paused. “I assume Avdei will be sanctioned appropriately?”
“The Idoni Primor has been made aware.”
And that was all there was to be done, wasn’t it? She took a small degree of pleasure from the idea the elasson might be humiliated or even suffer a distasteful punishment for his negligence, but disciplinary matters were strictly a Dynasty affair—no exceptions. As such, the matter was now out of her hands, and out of her Primor’s.
“Thank you, sir. I regret to say the agent in question escaped, however, with the assistance of other anarchs who infiltrated the Vigil lockdown. Several of the Humans accompanied them.”
“Including your mysterious foe from Helix Retention.”
“Yes, Primor.”
“He defeated you a second time.”
She smarted, despite the fact that she’d walked into the meeting expecting the rebuke. She wanted to say no, but she recognized the reality of the encounter. To the extent ‘no’ was accurate, it was solely because she had fled before he could do so.
Instead she spoke the truth, unadorned by subjective commentary. “The diati obeys him.”
“The diati obeys its wielder, of which I thought you to be one. Yet he stole it from you once again.”
She should be ashamed—she should fall to her knees and beg for his mercy—but she knew what she’d seen and experienced. The Praesidis Dynasty valued strength—of conviction, of will, of rightness—but as the investigators, hunters and judges of Amaranthe, its members also valued facts.
“Sir—Father—I cannot yet explain why it is so, and I can hardly commit the experience to words that will properly describe it, but I believe this man is not stealing the diati. It is choosing to go to him. For it is not merely the diati he possesses that obeys him, but any diati he comes into contact with, from any Praesidis.”
“Absurd. The diati has served us for a million uninterrupted years. It will not, it cannot, willingly abandon us for some primitive interloper.”
“I know it should not be. But this is what I have experienced, twice now. This is what my instincts and observations tell me is true. In addition, he wields it with the skill of an Inquisitor—increasingly so in this recent clash. It obeys him without the slightest resistance, even when it is not under his direct control. Furthermore, I believe he understands precisely what this means and how to use it to his advantage. I fear we are confronted with a very skilled and formidable adversary.”
“You tread on dangerous grounds, Nyx. Be careful.”
This response surprised her. For a Praesidis, the truth was never heresy. Did he imagine her to be lying? To be exaggerating to save face? Had her earlier display of weakness damaged his estimation of her more than she’d realized?
She squared her shoulders; she could win back his trust only
by being what she was: an elasson Praesidis Inquisitor, and all it meant to be so. If he had doubts, she would assuage them. “Look into my mind, Father. See what I saw. Feel what I felt. I do not misrepresent.”
He spun on her, eyes and aura flared, and she fell into darkness for a time.
14
CHIONIS
ANARCH POST ALPHA
* * *
EREN’S NEW BONES ACHED. His new muscles protested every movement. His brand-new body felt decrepit, like an ill-fitting covering stitched slapdash over his consciousness.
This was wholly illogical, of course. Which meant it was all in his head, and what actually felt decrepit was him. At barely three hundred years young, he was stretched and worn. Frayed.
He really needed to lighten up on the regenesis.
But he’d thought the same thing the last time, too. And the time before the last time. So should he have let the Inquisitor kill Cosime and Thelkt before Mesme was able to spirit them away? This suicidal ploy had been as necessary as all the rest of them. Well, most of the rest. Some of the rest.
The point was, sacrificing a body was a sacrifice he could make, when Cosime could not. Thelkt and Felzeor and Caleb and Alex and so many others could not, but he could.
Plus, it transformed what was arguably restive angst into heroism. It made him a celebrity among the anarchs and a villain among Vigil and the Directorate.
His step buoyed, invigorated by the pep talk he’d delivered to himself.
As such, he was halfway through the swirl of white-blue lights before he realized a Kat had materialized in front of him in the hallway.
He jerked to a stop then hurriedly stepped out of the swirl. “Mesme?”
I made you a promise before we breached Helix Retention. If you wish, I will honor it now.
“Right now? Your timing is mighty peculiar.”
My timing is what circumstances dictate it must be. If you no longer desire to know the Faneros’ fate, I have a number of more urgent tasks in need of performing.
Aurora Resonant: The Complete Collection (Amaranthe Collections Book 3) Page 49