Beside her in the audience, Maris leaned over to whisper in her ear. “This means I can seduce him now, yes?”
Nika shot her a vaguely annoyed glare. “I don’t see why his being an Advisor is a requirement for that to happen.”
“Neither do I, but he seems to think it is. Regardless, it’s no longer an issue.”
“Just…don’t break him, okay?”
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
On the other side of her, Dashiel nudged her with his elbow in question. She tilted her head toward Maris, then lowered her voice yet more. “You really don’t, do you?”
“Each new romance brings with it incredible new adventures and new discoveries about oneself and the other person.”
“Yes. And then you break the person.”
“How do you know? Did your journals tell you?”
“As a matter of fact, yes, they did. You throw your lovers’ worlds into chaos, drive them to distraction, use them up and drain them dry then toss them aside like last year’s clothing fashion. Spencer’s a good man, and he’s going to be an excellent Justice Advisor—but only if you don’t break him.”
Adlai finished his speech and motioned for Spencer to join him at the podium. Spencer wore a charcoal tailored suit and an even more stoic countenance than usual, but his face brightened a touch when he glanced their way.
Nika sighed. Why was she even bothering?
“Perhaps he will be the one who leads me to swear off other lovers forever.”
“What are the odds?”
Maris’ expression flickered; she studied her hands. “I didn’t break Adlai. He’s a stellar Justice Advisor.”
“Sure he is—fourteen hundred years later.”
“You’re serious about this. Are you asking me not to pursue him?”
Now Spencer was shaking hands with the other Justice Advisors, and it was smiles all around as the ceremony wrapped up.
She took advantage of the increasingly festive atmosphere in the room to face Maris fully, to look her in the eyes. “Something else my journals make clear is that you will do whatever you wish, no matter what anyone else thinks. I respect that, believe me, and in fact I sincerely hope every person in the Dominion gets laid at least once in the next week, in case they don’t get another chance.
“I guess what I’m saying is…Spencer isn’t a piece of art. He’s not a new vid or story or performance. He’s a man—a living soul. Treat him like one. Please?”
“I will—”
Adlai tapped Maris on the shoulder, and they both looked up to see him and Spencer standing in the aisle beside their row.
Nika stood and offered Spencer her hand. “Congratulations, Advisor. You deserve it.”
He huffed a breath. “I can’t say if you’re right, but I’ll try to be worthy of the title.” His attention instantly diverted to Maris. “I realize everyone has a lot to do, but Adlai and I were going to grab a quick bite to eat, if you…all would like to join us?”
Nika almost wished she could, if only to sit between Spencer and Maris and thwart their dance of seduction for one additional hour. Instead she took Dashiel’s hand in hers and shook her head. “We would, but Dashiel and I have somewhere to be—” she checked the time “—ten minutes ago. You all enjoy yourselves.”
MIRAI ONE PAVILION
“Did you sleep at all last night?”
Lance arched an eyebrow in Dashiel’s direction. He did seem tired, but his eyes remained sharp and his movements focused. “I have eight days to plan and prepare for the largest, most complex military operation I’ve led in millennia. I don’t have the ships, I don’t have the pilots, I don’t have the payloads they’ll be expected to deliver. I believe I’ll be sleeping next in eight days and forty-five minutes. Unless I’m dead then, which will probably be more restful.”
Nika propped against a window and stared outside. Clean-up crews had removed the debris from the grounds outside the Pavilion, though inside tarps and hazard tape remained commonplace. “I recognize we’re asking the impossible of you. What can we do to make it fractionally less impossible?”
Lance drummed the fingers of one hand on the table while he used the other to flick through several panes busy with bullet points and numbers. “If you’re serious, two things. One, the people who have the skills needed to build these kyoseil/alisinium bombs are the same people who have the skills to replicate the Taiyok stealth modules. But they can’t do both at the same time and, as noted, eight days. Nika, you’re a diplomat. Get me as many off-the-shelf stealth modules as you can from the Taiyoks.”
She had no idea how she’d accomplish it, but this had never stopped her before. “Done. What’s the second thing?”
“Briscanti Materials has dumped thousands of kilograms of alisinium on us, with the promise of thousands more if we need it, but it should come as a surprise to no one that kyoseil is not in so plentiful supply. Dashiel, I appreciate Ridani Enterprises pledging every ounce it has on hand, but it’s not enough. Not even close. Find me more kyoseil.”
Dashiel pinched the bridge of his nose, and Nika recalled something he’d said to her not long after they’d met this time around: there is never, can never be enough kyoseil. “I understand. No mechanism exists within the government to commandeer private materials for the public good, but I’ll make something up. One way or another, you’ll have the kyoseil you need.” He turned to her wearing a pained expression. “I need to initiate some comms, then knock on some doors.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “And it seems I need to return to Toki’taku.”
42
* * *
TOKI’TAKU
Taiyok Homeworld
The trip to the Alcazar was nothing short of surreal. The details of the memory she’d recovered overlaid atop reality like a recreation of the scene knocked five degrees off-center.
Visually, little had changed about the topography in twelve thousand years. The Taiyoks being notoriously beholden to tradition and history as they were, she shouldn’t be surprised. Still, she liked to think millennia of cordial relations and regular exchange between their societies had resulted in some improvements behind the scenes.
Cameron Breckel sat beside her in the second row of the carriage. In her absence these last five years, he’d taken over most of the Dominion’s official interactions with the Taiyok government.
She’d hurriedly devoured all the information she could locate in her journals on the current Taiyok Elder and the history of their relations, then quizzed Cameron about recent developments on the way here. But the truth was, there wasn’t much to tell. Their relationship was at a steady state and had been for quite some time. The Taiyoks changed gradually if at all, and the Dominion had been content to not push them to do so.
That policy was of necessity about to come to an end. She didn’t expect the Elder to be thrilled about it, but the Rasu were everyone’s problem now.
Cameron leaned in close to her ear so she was able to hear him over the wind and rustle of the forest the carriage pitched through. “Are you sure you’re up for this meeting? Granted, you could charm the wings off a Taiyok before, but…I just mean it’s something of a learned skill.”
She gave him her brave face, which she’d gotten a lot of practice at brandishing lately. “I’m sure. Even in NOIR, I worked with Taiyoks often. And I remember…” she took in the enormous mossy leaves and twisting umber limbs rushing past them “…being here.” She exhaled slowly. “I remember how to do this.”
He settled back into the stiff seating of the carriage. “Okay. I trust you. And I’ll be right there with you.”
The carriage completed its pulse-pounding tear through the seemingly endless forest canopy and settled onto the landing pad at the home of the Toki’taku presiding government.
They followed their escorts out of the carriage and onto the wide platform high in the trees. In front of them, a spiral ramp wound up a tree that had grown yet more mammoth in the last twelve t
housand years.
She motioned Cameron forward. “Let’s make this count.”
This Taiyok Elder’s feathers were silken ebony where his predecessor’s had been ivory, and his eyes reflected copper instead of platinum, but the symbols painted upon his wings were the same—marks of the station passed down to each holder of the title of Elder.
The dozens of eyes glittering from the shadows felt a tad friendlier than on her first visit. Possibly.
She and Cameron crouched low, left knees leading, and crossed their arms over their chests in the traditional greeting of respect, then stood. She spoke first, and only after she began did it occur to her she might be slighting Cameron in doing so. “Elder Zhanre’khavet, I express honor to come before you today. I apologize for my long absence. Thank you for your indulgence in welcoming me into your halls once more.”
“Your colleague has served well in your absence. Two Asterion diplomats standing before us together, side by side, however? Matters must be grave, indeed.”
She dipped her chin, paused and lifted it again, the closest Taiyoks came to a nod-like gesture. “I regret to say they are. Elder, have you had an opportunity to review the visuals and files we sent ahead?”
The Elder swept a silken wing out to acknowledge the council members gathered alongside him. “We have all done so. The presence of these strange, unnatural beasts in our galaxy is most troubling. You claim they have demonstrated an aggressive nature toward other species?”
“Yes. All the information we’ve been able to gather on them indicates that they destroy, harvest or enslave every species they encounter. Further, they continue to actively seek out new species to abuse so.”
“What about species more technologically advanced than they are?”
“We can’t say for certain, but it is entirely possible they have never encountered a species more advanced than they are.”
“You do not claim to yourselves be?”
She suppressed a smile. “No, we do not. But to save ourselves and all our allies, we do aim to be cleverer than they are. But we need your help to accomplish this.”
“You intend to provoke these Rasu? Better to remain silent in the shadows, in the hope they pass us by unawares.”
“I’m afraid it’s too late for such a course of action. They are already aware of our existence. They are coming for Asterion worlds very soon, and when they do, they will find yours as well. Their nature is to spread like a plague, consuming all they encounter. Our only chance is to act before they arrive at our doorstep. To act now, when they do not yet expect us to challenge them.”
Rough mutters broke out among the council members. The Elder snapped a wing out to its full span, silencing the outburst in a single motion. “What do you ask of us?”
“Taiyok stealth technology is far superior to our own. This is not flattery, but rather simple truth. We know yours is effective against the Rasu, for using it we have sent several ships into the heart of their stronghold without detection by the enemy.”
The soft feathers lining the Elder’s neck fluttered once. “You used Taiyok stealth technology on an Asterion vessel?”
“Legally purchased technology, I assure you. And yes, with some work we were able to adapt it to our starship systems. Now, however, we need a greater number of your stealth modules. Enough for a thousand ships. And we need them immediately.”
The Elder pivoted in a full circle, his steely gaze hushing the outcries of his council before they could be uttered. When he once again faced her, his eerie compound eyes bore into her for a fateful five seconds before he spoke.
“You ask much, Asterion. Tell me your plan to defeat these Rasu. In detail, please.”
“You intend to have a thousand or more ships infiltrate this stronghold stellar system, at once, undetected, and use them to place several thousand bombs onto the hulls of the Rasu’s core structures? This is a suicide mission, if you understand such a concept.”
“We do.” Nika didn’t flinch in response to the Elder’s barb. Taiyoks, some of them, grasped the admittedly unconventional nature of Asterion life as a general matter; they all disapproved, naturally. “But to do nothing is also a suicide mission. If our civilization is destroyed, there will be no more new generations for us. The plan is risky, yes. Of course it is. It is also our best chance to stop the enemy and save us all.”
The Elder paused to confer with one of his colleagues, a rare action on his part, then began deliberately circling her and Cameron. “Our stealth devices cannot possibly function as well on your ships as they do on ours. The integration will by definition be incomplete.”
Nika followed his progress, turning as needed. “This is likely true. However, as I said, it does function.”
“But better on our ships.”
“Yes…agreed.”
The Elder stopped directly in front of her, less than a meter distant. “Then we will use our own ships.”
She froze her muscles before they could spin her toward Cameron in surprise or let out a gasp in also surprise or drop her jaw flat to the floor in…yeah. “I—perhaps I am misunderstanding the intent of your words. Do you want us to use Taiyok ships on the mission?”
“Don’t be preposterous. We will use our ships.”
She blinked twice in succession, and Cameron stepped in while she tried to recover from the shock. In fairness to her, this was current-her’s first time conducting a head-of-state negotiation with an alien species, and no amount of research could have prepared her for this curve ball.
“Elder, we are not asking the Taiyoks to participate in our offensive against the Rasu, merely to provide support equipment for the mission. We are willing to take all the risks on ourselves.”
“Oddly brave of Asterions. But you were correct earlier. We are now in danger from these interlopers as well, and Taiyoks will never be cowards. We will join you in your offensive.”
Nika composed herself enough to offer the Elder a situation-appropriate restrained smile. “Then we would welcome your participation. Greatly so. What manner of ships are you proposing to use?”
At first, second and third glance, Nika couldn’t be certain what she was seeing. An expansive flock of birds lazing in the afternoon sun? The earth tones ubiquitous throughout the Toki’taku landscape blended seamlessly with the complementary tones used in most Taiyok architecture so well the entire facility might as well be shrouded beneath a stealth module.
But logic won out over her deceived vision. It wasn’t birds she was seeing—it was ships. Hundreds of them at a minimum, stacked in rows and columns beside a manufacturing facility far more expansive than the one she’d purchased her own stealth module at during her last visit.
The ships were small, each one less than half the size of the Wayfarer, with long, broad wings and tapered bodies. They resembled a cross between large harriers and, well, the Taiyoks themselves. They didn’t actually have feathers, of course, but from a distance the muted, unburnished hulls could be mistaken for pelts.
The Elder stood beside her gazing upon his ships. Proudly, she’d daresay. She motioned deliberately toward the fleet. “Can I ask, what are these ships routinely used for?”
“We engage in many endeavors which do not draw the notice of Asterions. But fear not, those endeavors represent no threat to you.”
She respectfully decided the Asterions would be the ones to decide this, and also that they would decide it later. “Thank you for the reassurance. And the pilots? They have training in dangerous situations?”
“Space is always dangerous, Advisor Kirumase. Based on the information you have provided regarding your mission, these ships will only be able to carry two of your bombs each, so we will need more ships. The additional vessels will be ready for flight in four days.”
She wasn’t sure how Lance was going to react when she told him the news, but she was sure they weren’t going to refuse this gift, however unexpected it may be. “In that case, Elder, it will be the highest honor for us t
o fly and fight alongside your people.”
43
* * *
CHOSEK
Chizeru Homeworld
Dashiel embraced her as soon as she stepped into the meeting room at the Chosek Embassy. “Thank you for diverting here. How did it go on Toki’taku?”
Nika sighed against his lips in the briefest moment of contentment, then drew back and surveyed the room. Thick, quilted drapes adorned every window, as well as what she suspected were simply bare spots of wall. Ridiculously plush chairs with added pillows in Asterion and Chizeru sizes ringed a low table. The carpet beneath her feet looked soft enough to suffice as bedding, and she idly wondered if any Chizeru guests had ever flopped down and rolled around on it.
“Better than expected, actually. I’ll fill you in on the way home. What’s the status here?”
“I went all totalitarian on the companies who import kyoseil and confiscated their on-hand supplies…” he grimaced “…with the promise of future reimbursement. I couldn’t take it at gunpoint and live with myself. Unfortunately, most of that supply is already in production. Not a surprise, as few outfits will leave it sitting around for long.”
“So, we need more.”
“We need more. We need to beg, borrow and…well, not steal every gram we can get from the Chizeru. Now, I’ve no doubt they’ll be happy to provide it, but the issue is the timing. You once said that hurrying a Chizeru was like pushing a rope uphill—you just ended up with a tangled pile of Chizeru on the ground.”
“Ha.” She rubbed at her jaw. “Have you given any thought to the morality of what we’re doing?”
The Stars Like Gods Page 28
