by Cole Price
“That’s correct, Doctor. He’s been working for me for two years now. His results have been very close-held, but I think it’s time all of you got read in. Go talk to him. I think you’ll find his work very interesting.”
Shepard nodded. “Thank you, Admiral. We’ll go see him in the morning, and I’ll keep you informed of our progress.”
“Good work, Commander. Keep the faith. The gods of war haven’t given up on us yet.”
* * *
“What’s this, Liara?”
I glanced up from where I sat on the edge of the bed, already bathed and in a light silk tunic, ready for sleep. Shepard had emerged from the refresher cubicle, wrapped in a towel, but something sitting on the desk had caught his eye.
“Oh. That. It’s a project I’ve been working on. I wasn’t quite ready to show you . . .”
“That’s okay,” he assured me. “It can wait.”
I rose and walked over to the office area, brushing his lips with mine in passing. I picked up what he had seen, a piece of custom-built equipment just big enough to need both hands. “No, now that you mention it, there’s something I wanted to ask you about. Let’s sit down at the table.”
“Okay.”
I padded back down the stairs, carrying the unit, Shepard following along in bemused curiosity. I set the unit down on the table and worked with its controls to put it in ready mode, while he made himself comfortable on the couch.
“It started with something Javik said, actually. It made me think about everything we’ve learned about the Reapers, and how easily it could all be lost again. So I put a plan in motion to preserve things for the future.”
The unit began to emit a blue-white glow. Then a holographic image sprang into existence above it, just a pillar of light for the moment, but pregnant with possibilities. I stood and took a half-step back, watching Shepard’s face.
“What’s this?” asked Shepard, leaning forward and watching with interest.
“A record of the galaxy in our time. Information on the Reapers, the relay network, different cultures. A full set of blueprints for the Crucible . . .”
The hologram changed as I spoke, riffling through some of the images I had stored in the unit: a Sovereign-class Reaper, a map of the galaxy, an image of the Crucible.
“. . . but there’s one entry I wanted your opinion on.”
“Which one?”
I smiled at him and bent down to touch the controls once more. The hologram changed once more, becoming an image of Shepard in his undress uniform. “Your own.”
“You’re putting me in a time capsule?”
“You’re not the only individual I’m going to include, of course. There are already hundreds of biographical sketches in here. But since in this case I have the subject close at hand, I’d be honored to have your input. How would you like history to remember you?”
He cocked his head, clearly intrigued by the idea. “Are you sure it will work? Fifty thousand years is a long time for a computer to sit around, and still be in working condition.”
“Please. I am an archaeologist, or at least I was once. I know what I’m doing. I’ve designed a very tough outer casing for each unit. They’ll be seeded on as many planets as the Shadow Broker’s network can reach. And while it’s not foolproof, the VI I’m installing has every translation and linguistics program I could find.”
“So it’s your version of the Vigil system on Ilos?”
“Something like that. I’ve been preparing it for some time.”
A touch of a key, and a copy of Glyph appeared embedded in the holographic matrix. “It will be a privilege to assist the future discoverers of these records,” said the drone. “Commander, have you decided what you would like Dr. T’Soni to record in your entry?”
He thought about it for a moment, and then shook his head. “You know me well enough to fill in the blanks, Liara.”
Somehow I had not expected that reaction. I stood, cocking my head to watch him where he sat. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’d like it to be your call.”
“Well.” I began to pace the floor, deep in thought. “I’ll say that Commander Shepard grew up on Mindoir. He never let what happened there rob him of his compassion or his sense of justice, but it drove him to become an exceptional soldier. He became a powerful biotic, nearly unstoppable when he charged into a fight. He was also a leader, one who made peace whenever he could.”
I stopped and looked back at him, held his gaze for a pregnant moment.
“And it was a great privilege to know him.”
He chuckled. “Careful. You’re making this sound like a eulogy.”
I crossed the room to sit at his side, leaning close and taking his hand. “I can’t help it. I’ve admired you greatly ever since I met you.”
“Hmm. You’re not so bad yourself, T’Soni.” He leaned back, watching the tiny motes of light given off by the unit’s projector, like stars drifting in space. “Anything I’ve accomplished in the last three years, it’s been because you supported me. You’ve saved my life more times than I can count.”
“I haven’t always been there for you. When you came to Illium, I left you to fight alone because I had too many of my own problems to solve. I still regret that.”
“It worked out. You more than made up for it later.”
“Well.” I smiled and gave him a sly glance. “I suppose I did just write your name in the stars.”
Chapter 24 : A Creature Without Fear
8 May 2186, Task Force Aurora Facility/Citadel
Garret Bryson’s task force worked out of a converted office block, low on the right wall of the Presidium. Shepard and I landed our cab on a small terrace, looked around for a moment, and then moved inside.
The main laboratory rather assaulted our senses. Garret had an extensive and very eclectic collection of artifacts, scattered about a busy work area. I identified a complete plesiosaur skeleton from Earth. A petroglyph in one corner depicted a Reaper, or something of very similar shape. Several chunks of asteroidal stone rested on benches, surrounded by assay equipment. Hardcopy images and documents stuck to every free square meter of wall space, arranged in an elaborate branched network.
Right by the door, plainly labeled, lurked a three-meter fragment of Sovereign. I felt a momentary urge to flee for my life, or at least for my sanity, but then I saw the stasis field set up to contain the fragment.
Garret has taken precautions against indoctrination. Or at least I hope he has.
The great archaeologist himself stood at an oversized computer console just a few meters away, paging through data and speaking to a lab assistant. “I want you to match this data set against all of our candidate locations, and update the map. Then contact the field teams for a status report.”
“Yes, Doctor.” The assistant nodded, working intently at a smaller console of his own.
Garret turned, saw us by the door. “Commander Shepard. Liara. I’ve been expecting you.”
I stepped forward to embrace him briefly. He looked much as I remembered, short and slim for a male human, always a little rumpled no matter what clothes he wore. Perhaps his face had become more deeply lined, his eyes a little more tired. “Garret. It’s so good to see you again.”
A smile spread across his normally dour face. “Likewise. I’ve been following your work on the translation of late Prothean inscriptions. That’s a breakthrough I would have loved to see years ago.”
“You’ll have to visit Normandy sometime,” said Shepard. “There’s someone on my team I think you would enjoy meeting.”
“Yes, Admiral Hackett told me about that as well. Fascinating.” Garret led us down a short corridor, into another room dominated by a holographic galaxy map and still more unusual artifacts. “You’re not here to chat about the Protheans, though. I apologize that we’re so busy. Most of my team is out in the field right now, investigating leads.” He made an expansive gesture with both hands, indicating the whole facility aroun
d us. “Welcome to Task Force Aurora.”
“Doctor, Liara was able to tell me a little about your previous work, but I’m not clear about the details of your current assignment.”
“Our mandate is to investigate rumors, legends, even myths. Old stories that might have been about the Reapers, dating back to long before anyone knew they existed.”
Shepard frowned. “That’s an interesting objective, but does anyone really doubt that the Reapers exist these days?”
“The Alliance is desperate for intelligence about them,” said Bryson. “Their motives, their objectives, their operational tactics, anything that could give us an edge.”
“Makes sense. So how did you wind up in charge?”
“I’ve got something of a reputation, Commander. When the rest of the galaxy says something is a myth, that it can’t possibly exist, I take that as a challenge. Liara may have mentioned our work together on Thessia. Everyone said the Protheans had never visited the ancient asari. We proved otherwise.” He turned to look up at the galaxy map. “Sometimes the most important scientific truths are the ones you uncover when you look where nobody ever bothered to before.”
“Like the Reapers,” said Shepard, his eyes hooded.
“Yes. Even the Reapers have a history, Commander. If we can uncover that history, we may find a weakness that we can exploit.”
My bondmate snorted in amused disgust. “I really could have used your help three years ago.”
“Yes. If more people had paid attention to you and that Prothean beacon, we might not be in such desperate straits today.” Garret began to work with the controls of the galaxy map. “Now, with some of the new information we’ve uncovered, we may be near a breakthrough.”
Shepard stood with his arms folded, but I could tell it was a gesture of patience rather than skepticism.
I stepped over to look over Garret’s shoulder, watch what he was doing. Then I saw movement out of the corner of my eye.
“Hadley,” Garret called. “Do you have the Leviathan data for Commander Shepard?”
I glanced past him, saw his assistant in the doorway.
Holding a pistol.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl. My right hand balled into a fist, my biotic corona surged.
Too late. Always and forever, too late.
Garret fell back against me, almost knocking me off my feet, two blood-red flowers blooming on his chest. Somehow I eased him to the floor, found myself kneeling with his head in my lap, his blood pooling around me. His eyes searched blindly, locked on mine for a moment, and then went vacant.
I heard a shout as Shepard tackled his murderer.
“This is Commander Shepard! I need C-Sec and a medical team at my location, now!”
The commotion seemed far away, and not very important.
“The darkness cannot be breached . . .”
* * *
C-Sec arrived within a few minutes, a pair of dour turians with a medical team in tow. They immediately cordoned off the lab as a crime scene. Not that there seemed to be much to investigate. Garret had been shot dead in front of two eyewitnesses, with no possible ambiguity about who had pulled the trigger.
“His ID and transit records show his name as Derek Hadley,” said one of the turians. “He’s worked here for a couple months.”
Shepard paced back and forth, tense like a caged animal, staring at the unconscious Hadley. I sat off to one side, Garret’s blood still caked on my trousers, feeling little but the dull pain of loss.
Finally Hadley stirred, blinked rapidly, and began to look around. “What . . . I . . . What’s happening?”
Shepard stood before him, arms folded, his head tipped back so he could examine the scientist down his nose. “You tell me,” he said coldly.
“I . . . I was collating the Leviathan data when you arrived. Dr. Bryson wanted to share a copy of it with you. Then . . . it was dark. Cold. Like I was someplace else.”
“And then?”
“I don’t know.” Hadley’s eyes widened, in fear or terrible confusion. “There was a gun in my hand. Dr. Bryson. A loud noise.”
“That was you. Shooting him.”
I lifted my head slightly, staring at Hadley. The look of shock and confusion on his face seemed completely genuine.
Something is not right here.
Hadley stared where Shepard pointed, where one of the turians had moved aside to reveal Garret’s body. The older scientist looked small and pathetic, lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood. It suddenly reminded me of Udina, lying dead on the shuttle pad two days before.
Hadley turned deathly white, hurling himself out of his chair and down to the floor at Garret’s side, awkward as a bundle of disjointed bones. “Dr. Bryson? No! I didn’t do this. I would never do something like this! You have to believe that!”
“There wasn’t anyone else here to pull the trigger, Hadley.”
“But . . .”
Stiffly, I rose from my chair and began to cross the room. “Shepard, I believe he may be telling the truth.”
Shepard frowned at me. “What makes you say that?”
“His body language doesn’t show any evidence of deception. This also reminds me of the early effects of indoctrination, when the victim’s identity has not yet been completely overridden.”
He glanced over his shoulder, in the direction of the other room, where the fragment of Sovereign ominously stood.
Hadley stood, sounding lost. “Indoctrination? Me?”
“What about this Leviathan data?” Shepard stepped close, to stare into Hadley’s face. “It was the last thing he asked you for. Does it have anything to do with this?”
“I don’t know. It’s some kind of creature.”
“Is it a Reaper?”
Hadley shook his head. “I don’t think so. Our field teams have been tracking it, looking for evidence of its activity.”
“What have they found?”
Hadley pointed to a far corner of the room, where a display case stored a variety of artifacts. One in particular caught my eye, a large, heavy-looking globe of some kind of rock crystal. Light shimmered in its depths, seeming to move even in the room’s steady illumination. “That artifact, for one thing. It came in a few days ago from one of our researchers, Alex Garneau. He sent an audio log, if you want to . . .”
Suddenly Hadley screamed, crouching and clutching at his head with both hands, as if in abrupt agony.
“What’s wrong?” demanded Shepard.
Hadley fell to his knees, all evidence of pain gone. He spoke, but his voice had changed, turned into a deep, resonant rasp, as if his lungs had gone utterly hollow. “Turn back.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The darkness cannot be breached.”
Then Hadley pitched forward onto his face.
“Damn it.” Shepard caught the lead C-Sec officer’s eye. “Get him over to the clinic, see if they can tell us what’s wrong with him. You have enough to press charges?”
“Think so, Commander.”
“All right. I need to have a look around, see if I can figure out what the hell is going on. This is my crime scene as of now. Spectre authority.”
“Yes, sir.”
The turians bent to take hold of Hadley. His body moved limply, like that of a corpse, although I could see he still breathed. The medics carefully placed Garret’s body on a stretcher, so it could be moved. Before long, Shepard and I had the space to ourselves, nothing but the great stain of Garret’s blood on the floor to indicate he had ever been there.
Finally Shepard turned to me. “Are you all right?”
“Not really. Goddess, Shepard, if I had been a fraction of a second faster.”
He sighed. “Lot of that going around lately. Nothing to be done about it now. Liara, you’re the only person I know who might be able to make sense of all this.”
I snorted. “EDI could, and without the distractions of emotion to slow her down.”
He put a han
d on my shoulder. “I need you with me here, Liara.”
As so often happened, his touch seemed to lend me strength. I stood up straighter, looked him in the eye. “All right. I’ll do what I can.”
“Dr. Bryson mentioned something about Leviathan,” Shepard observed. “I don’t think he was referring to the Leviathan of Dis, or he would have said so.”
“You’re right. Let me have a look at Garret’s records.”
It didn’t take long for me to find a log of communications between Task Force Aurora and Admiral Hackett. At first I only examined the pattern of calls, trying to pick out communications of particular importance. Garret had been in occasional communication with the admiral for almost two years, but then I saw a sharp spike in frequency, just before the war began.
“Here, Shepard. This seems important.”
Shepard stepped up beside me, looked up at the screen where I was working.
Hackett: “Dr. Bryson, do you have an update?”
Bryson: “Yes. Admiral, this story of the Leviathan of Dis? I think we’re really on to something. What records we’ve received from Alliance intelligence suggest that the Reaper found on Jartar was not killed by conventional means. Hard to tell after hundreds of millions of years, but the thing’s carapace and internal mechanisms seemed intact. I’m intrigued by the implications of that.”
“What could have killed a Reaper in the first place?”
“Exactly. That’s the real Leviathan. A creature without fear. Something that can stand up even to the Reapers.”
“It’s worth pursuing. Continue your investigation and keep me updated on your results.”
I glanced at Shepard. “A creature without fear. That almost sounded like a literary reference. What does Leviathan mean to humans?”
“It’s from ancient mythology. An enormous creature of the deep sea, supposedly all-powerful, impossible to capture or defeat in battle. I think Dr. Bryson was quoting from the book of Job.”
“All right. Here’s another one, from just a few days ago.”
Bryson: “Admiral, the Reapers are shadowing my field teams, as if they’re hunting for Leviathan themselves. That tells me they believe it still exists, even after all this time, and still poses a threat to them. I’m convinced it’s nothing less than a Reaper-killer – an apex predator – and it has them nervous. If we could just find it! Imagine the impact on the war. I’m formally requesting assistance in tracking it down.”
