Deus: The Eurynome Code, Book Six

by Gorman, K.

  She does have a point, Tia thought. What can they do to you?

  I’m not sure that’s a question I want to answer with the Fallon and Alliance militaries.

  But…she did have a point. They both did.

  “If I did that, I would be going against what they’ve told me to do.”

  “So? You’re not a soldier, and you’re not their soldier. Seriously, just make up some bullshit story. It’s not like you haven’t been randomly shifted into other worlds before.”

  That was also true.

  “This is a terrible idea,” she told Soo-jin. “Hells, they haven’t even done anything.”

  So, you’re going to wait until they do?

  Shut up.

  Soo-jin raised her hands. “It’s just a thought.”

  Fuck me. How did it get to the point where I actually consider going behind Fallon’s back? They used to be so good.

  When they pushed you out of the loop and stopped listening to you, Tia replied. Trust is a two-way road. Not telling you about being the Grand Regent is just one of many things.

  Yeah. That had been a slap in the face. No matter how Karin looked at it, not telling her that she was now the reigning monarch and literally in charge of an entire armed fleet with hundreds of thousands of troops at her immediate beck and call, and millions still in Alpha Centauri…

  Yeah, it looked bad.

  While it was possible they had wanted to keep the pressure off of her, there was no way they had been completely innocent in their motivations for keeping her away from the Centauri. No government worked that way, not when it came to matters of this level, and Fallon had more experience than most at that. Plus, Tillerman had clearly been trying to make contact and been told to sod off.

  Kalinsky had already made a point about that.

  But…why? The entirety of the human race was facing an extinction point―hells, the entire universe was facing an extinction point. No matter how nicely Sasha put it, she was ending one thing and beginning another. Kalinsky likely had his own motives, but Earth was not the power that Fallon or the Alliance represented. He probably wanted her less blindly attached to Fallon.

  Well, mission success for him.

  Fallon, currently, had the position of power over the others. Nova Earth, the Alliance’s capital planet, had surrendered to them, and, individually, both Fallon and the Alliance outgunned what meager resources and defenses Earth could provide.

  Only the Centauri provided a threat to them. And she now led half of them.

  They probably didn’t want her running off and taking matters into her own hands and her own army.

  Which I’d be much less likely to do if they’d just explain themselves and focus on finding Sasha instead of jerking me around like some pet assassin.

  Gods, it still boggled her mind that she’d become Grand Regent.

  Seriously―what kind of culture even has that as a mechanism for leadership?

  Her netlink dinged again, buzzing in her hand. She pulled it out and tapped a button, skimming the message at the top.

  “I have another mission. Fuck.”

  Soo-jin’s brows came together in a furrow. “Didn’t you just come back from one?”

  “Yes. Eleven hours ago, including the flight back. They’re keeping me busy. Now, I think I know why.” Her lips twisted. “Fuck.”

  “Go see what it is,” Soo-jin said. “Maybe they actually found something this time.”

  “Yeah. And maybe Sasha’s called off the whole send everyone to the Shadow world and replace them plan and is relaxing on some nice beachfront property in Belenus.” She twisted as she picked up a jog. “Don’t tell anyone about the Regent thing.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Soo-jin shot her a smile. “I’ll do some digging. See if what I can scrounge up. Maybe Reeve’ll tell me.”

  “He’s Fallon’s spy guy. I don’t think he’s going to tell you their secrets.”

  “Shit, you’re right.” Soo-jin flashed her a grin. “Baik, then? I think he’s softer on us.”

  A smile tugged her lips. “Yes. You could use your feminine wiles on him.”

  Soo-jin had the grace to look offended. She put a mock-dramatic hand to her chest. “Moi? Use my uncanny good looks and sex-on-a-stick charm for personal and professional gain? Never.”

  “Maybe just personal.” A smile tugged at Karin’s lips. “I’ve seen how you look at him.”

  “Shut up, I don’t want to hear about it. I totally do not have a crush on Mr. Hot Pants K-Drama Sex God. Clio. Don’t bring that up.” Soo-jin gave her a mock salute as she jogged away. “Talk to me later. Try not to do anything too stupid.”

  “I make no guarantees,” she shouted back.

  She turned and headed for the Courant.

  Who knew? Maybe they’d surprise her and have a new and exciting packet of intel.

  Chapter Fourteen

  It wasn’t a new and exciting packet of intel, and they hadn’t found Sasha.

  From what she could tell, they were no closer to finding Sasha than they had been in the last five days.

  Karin ground her teeth together as General Crane explained the mission, only half-seeing the light map of the terrain in front of her.

  “Local intel puts this group in the Carpathian mountain range. Paramilitary, this time, not a cult, so they’ll likely be more prepared―”

  “You mean they’ll use weapons that were actually made within the last century?” She had a hard time keeping the sarcasm from her tone.

  General Crane’s graze flicked towards her. The lights reflected in his eyes, making them turn dark. He’d unbuttoned the top of his uniform, perhaps the only concession to Brazil’s heat and his seemingly never-ending workday.

  Gods, did he ever sleep? Maybe he was one of those people that had managed to trick their brain into only requiring two hours per night.

  “Do you have something to say, Ms. Makos?”

  Ms. Makos.

  Maybe it was her, but the way he said it made it sound more derisive in tone, as if she were a child who needed things explained to her.

  She knew she shouldn’t be questioning him. And he was making it obvious.

  She resisted the urge to grit her teeth.

  I am a Grand Regent now.

  “Yes, actually. I was just wondering if you’ve managed to track Sasha at all, or perhaps spoken with her son. Given that she’s likely going to take over the entire universe, I’d thought maybe this fine combination of militaries would have something.”

  “Data takes time to analyze, Ms. Makos, and we don’t have time―we can’t wait for it. Intel on this op has specified another anomaly. We need to follow up and track―”

  “You should send me into the Shadow world. Perhaps my new abilities can track her energy. I clearly felt the Shift Events occur, and I felt it when Tylanus arrived.”

  “Ms. Makos―”

  “She isn’t going to be on Earth,” she said flatly.

  “Our hands are tied, Ms. Makos. All we can do is stay the course and keep investigating.”

  “Why won’t you use my powers?” She tilted her head, gaze slipping up and down General Crane, looking for tells, for slips of emotion that could clue her into what he was thinking. “I would have thought you’d want me to shift a science team into the Shadow world, to start investigating it now that you have a reliable method of transport, but you haven’t.” She narrowed her eyes. “What’s stopping you?”

  “We only have so many resources, Ms. Makos, and every available science team is currently engaged with their own tasks. As I said―our hands are tied.”

  Ah, yes. That excuse again. She was finding it even more difficult to believe than the first five times she’d heard it. They were fighting for their survival―every single country was at total war, with every resource committed.

  She found it extremely hard to believe that they couldn’t divert the resources to investigate the Shadow world. It was, after all, literally what Dr. Sasha was using in her
plan.

  They have enough of a science team investigating the compound, as well as the Shadow Nemina, Tia thought. And I’d wager they’ve duplicated this effort in Macedonia, as well.

  They took the other Cradle, Karin reminded her. The one with Tylanus’ sister in it.

  She’d only seen it once, since. Then, it had been floated into the cargo of a small shuttle scout and flown into orbit. She had no idea where it was now.

  They also have that special team coming out to examine Tylanus, Tia pointed out. That flies in the face of ‘not enough resources.’

  Yes. Yes, it did.

  “I find that hard to believe,” she concluded, picking the conversation back up.

  “Karin!” Nomiki’s admonishment was a warning. Sharp, bright eyes slid between her and Crane. “That’s enough.”

  The room grew dead quiet. The tension hung thick in the air. She felt everyone’s stares on her. Baik, in particular, had fixed her with an unreadable look from where he stood across the room. Kalinsky, the UN rep, was also watching, with the tall Martian rep beside him.

  Christ, this went a little far.

  They deserve it.

  She ignored Tia, took a breath, and attempted to diffuse the tension by leaning back and rubbing the space where her eyebrows coming together.

  “Sorry. This all came out a lot more hostile than I’d intended,” she lied. “I’m just worried―if I don’t use my new powers, how in the ten fiery hells am I supposed to know how to defend against Sasha?”

  The silence continued, but it felt lighter this time, as if the tension had been cut. Everyone stared at her. Most, she noticed, were like the soldiers in the hall a few hours ago―looking like she was a bomb that hadn’t quite defused.

  Then, the general stirred.

  “Maybe you should sit this one out,” he said. “We’re all stressed, and you more than any of us. You’ve been through a lot, and even our best scientists can’t fully explain it.” His voice had a calm rumble to it. He shifted to the side, breathing a deep inhale and letting it go. A small smile twigged the corners of his mouth. “You never know. Maybe the solution will present itself in the morning.”

  * * *

  Thirty minutes later, she walked down the ramp of the Shadow Courant, the stolen combat suit turning her long, striding footfalls into gentle, hushed taps on the metal. She’d packed a bag on the Nemina, including the comms device Tillerman had given her, but she’d stolen the suit from the Courant’s Shadow world variant―a fine exploitation of the unique duplication effect between the two worlds.

  If the Shadow Nemina had worked like the real one did, she figured the Shadow combat suit would work just as well.

  Plus, they wouldn’t notice it missing in the real world.

  You know this likely has a tracker, too, right? Tia thought at her.

  Yes, she replied. I wonder if it registers as the same suit.

  The Shadow Nemina had come complete with the original’s registration and security codes―for both Alliance and Fallon systems―but she didn’t know how the suits worked.

  There’s also still a tracker embedded in my thigh from the first time I got kidnapped, she added, flashing the memory up for Tia to peruse. I figured I wouldn’t worry about a second one.

  She turned her attention to the camp, the silent setting suddenly much more interesting now that she was actively exploring it. The halls of the Shadow Courant had been quiet and empty, with the usual amount of diffusion to their color and that same indescribable mood to them―as if they weren’t dead or dormant, but simply waiting. That all of the people had simply stepped out of the room. It was hard to describe, but it felt as though she could feel people in them―as if those in the real world bled through like ghosts. Presences, but only in parting, and leaving an electric buzz to the air.

  She hadn’t noticed it in Macedonia, but then, the place hadn’t been quite as full in the real world when she’d been doing her transitions.

  That, and she’d had other things to worry about. Like a broken arm. And the lives of her friends.

  A few Shadows trailed after her, their movements quiet and hushed, unobtrusive. Bits of them bled into the atmosphere, their edges not quite as blurred as in the real world―they fit better, here. A half dozen of them had watched her walk through the halls.

  She only kept a small mental note of them, giving them polite nods as she passed. Even before they’d turned pacifistic, they’d long stopped being a threat to her. Her light was a natural Shadow killer.

  It also seemed to be the thing that attracted them, too.

  She’d decided to file that under ‘odd things to look into once the universe is safe again.’

  Hells, there were quite a few things filed under that label now. She doubted she would ever get answers to half of them.

  She’d left the suit helmet off, preferring the feel of the air against her skin. The night was quiet, much different from the insect drones that filled the jungle in the real world.

  Suns, Tia said in her head. Just look at all this―it’s all just so…

  “Bizarre?” Karen finished aloud.

  Yes. If I didn’t have access to your memories, not to mention external eyewitness agreements, I would assume that you were conducting some sort of extreme, on-command hallucinations.

  “That would be giving me far too much credit, Tia.” She snorted. “I was never that creative.”

  You forget, you’re a creation goddess now.

  “Modeled after one, yes, but I’ve been hallucinating Shadows for quite some time now.”

  She tapped her foot, turning her attention back to the camp. Several more Shadows had slipped into sight, lurking at the edges of the small clearing, inside tent flaps, next to the parking lots’ many broken and burned-out light poles, under wings and beside noses of aircraft. Above the trees, the sky held its usual dull, dim brown color between the top of the tree canopy and the bottom of the Shadow world’s seemingly endless supply of dense, thick cloud cover. It looked more like the light pollution of a small town than any attempt at clouds obscuring a sun.

  There was a sun, though. She could feel it at the edge of her Eos powers.

  It just never rose. Except for that one time she’d made it rise.

  She nodded in the direction of the slightly brighter side of the horizon and stepped out that way. “That’s as good a direction as any, I think. Thoughts?”

  This is new territory for me. I was never a Girl Guide.

  She struck off toward the side of the camp, away from the crumbling pavement of the old parking lot, and found a trail that led into the jungle, flicking on the built-in light on her suit’s arm to find the way rather than her light powers. With an estimated three days left on the suit’s battery at moderate use, she wasn’t precisely worried about conserving power. Tree trunks and overhanging branches lit up starkly in her light, and the dirt was hard-packed, full of roots and rocks. It was eerily quiet. No insects. No people. No wind. Only the slide and click of her suit boots and the subtle whir of internal systems. Preferring to sense things rather than trust the HUD―this was about testing her powers, after all―she’d stuffed the suit’s helmet in the small backpack she’d brought from the Nemina, casually tucking the snacks and water sachets she’d also brought inside.

  Probably not a regulation packing job, but she doubted anyone would bother her about it. They’d be too busy mincing words about her impromptu and unauthorized venture.

  The thought made her teeth clench.

  What was wrong with them? Why didn’t they want her using her new powers? Trying to see it from the military’s side―they did have a point, perhaps. There were no resources to cover it. They couldn’t provide her with backup, if things went wrong. Hells, they wouldn’t even be able to find her.

  They’d let her go off on her own before, though―she and the rest of the Nemina’s crew, along with a few tag-alongs.

  But that had been different. They’d been fighting the Centauri. And t
hey’d only been looking to research the Macedonian compound.

  No one could have predicted what had happened.

  It was also before you went into the tank. I wasn’t in your head, then, Tia pointed out.

  “Do you think that’s what changed things?”

  I’m an unknown factor related to a known evil. It can’t have helped.

  “A known evil?”

  Without me, none of the Project would have been possible. Tia’s thought-voice faltered, and she paused. It might have started as an unbelievable experiment, but I knew what I was doing. When it became clear that Bernard and Elliot were on to something―when the data started spitting back things that should have been impossible―I became a bit obsessed.

  As she spoke, Karin caught flashes of Tia’s memories. She remembered checking the data, going over simulations. Obsessing over numbers. Going days and weeks on little sleep, only work. Monitoring the then-cutting-edge nanotechnology as it pieced genetic strands together from variant sources. Watching the first batch of embryos grow.

  “You were sick, weren’t you?” Karin remembered the I.V. stand from another memory, the way Tia’s hands had shaken.

  Terminally, yes. ALS. Tia paused. That’s partially why I became so obsessed, I think. When my symptoms began to worsen, I thought―

  “You thought you could get out of it.”

  Yes.

  “Well, I guess you did, in a way. Though I doubt this is how you thought it would all go down.”

  No, not quite. Though, in my credit, I doubt anyone could have predicted ‘crazy lady tries to rewrite the universe.’

  “It’s unbelievable that any of this―” she made a gesture, and her light power flitted to the surface. “―actually works. I always figured it was some weird chemical-glowy thing that defied all medical scans. I hadn’t even considered quantum field manipulation.”

  Chemicals are limited, Tia informed her. Attempts to crossbreed humans, genetically speaking, turned out rather…odd. And I agree―I was incredulous at first, too. But they talked me into trying it, and when it actually began to work in the simulations…