Okay, this was somewhat unexpected, but whatever.
“You have a SAI running your ship? Are you daft?”
She didn’t miss Caleb’s quiet chuckle from the back of the cabin, but she kept her focus on their guest. “It’s a matter of some dispute. What did you call her? A ‘SAI’?”
“A sentient artificial intelligence. A self-aware machine someone built.”
“Oh. Yes, that’s a more or less accurate description.”
“But they’re verboten. Practically heretical.”
Valkyrie sighed. ‘Not again.’
Alex laughed. “Looks like. Sorry, Valkyrie. But I’m confused. Don’t you have quantum processes running everything here? Your ships, your buildings, your bodies?”
“Of course. But they are tools under the full control of their hosts or masters. In no way are they sentient or aware.”
She arched an eyebrow. “More’s the pity.”
“For an allegedly sentient entity, it did a rather poor job of docking.”
“Oh, we were docked. But if security deduced which ship we belonged to, it wouldn’t have released the ship from the docking clamps, right? So she undocked before the shitstorm kicked off.”
He considered the explanation, then shifted forward in the chair. “Fine. If your ship is a SAI and a Kat your guide, what are you?”
Caleb strode forward to prop in feigned casualness against the data table, dropping his hood and shrugging off the cloak. “Not Inquisitors.”
The man met his piercing stare to study Caleb for several seconds. “No. It appears you are not. So how in the name of Zeus is it you wield diati with such skill?”
“I don’t think you’ve earned the right to know yet.”
“Oh? Near as I can tell, I’ve been kidnapped and am being held captive by mysterious, suspicious-acting strangers. I deserve to be told who my captors are.”
Alex rolled her eyes. “We didn’t kidnap you. We saved your ass.”
“That remains to be determined. Why did you do it?”
Caleb shook his head minutely. Not yet.
He was the expert at this kind of thing, so she followed his lead. “We can get into the specifics later, after we’ve gotten to know one another better. We’re aware you’re an anarch—more importantly, an Anaden anarch, which makes you a very rare individual. We’re interested in learning about the resistance, but primarily we need to learn details about the Anaden power structure.”
She shot Mesme an annoyed glare, as it had been shockingly unhelpful in this regard. “The type of information only an Anaden will have and only an anarch will reveal.”
He considered each of them in turn. “Because you…truly aren’t Anaden, though your resemblance to us is close to the point of uncanniness. And plainly you aren’t anarchs. Yet here you are, departing an Anaden space station—at which you had successfully docked, at least briefly—in a ship of unique design and capable of superluminal travel. How is that possible? I ask again: what are you?”
It wasn’t as if he would believe her if she told him. “Let’s just say we share a genetic heritage with the Anadens. If you require a label, call us ‘humans.’ And that’s all we’re going to say on it for now.”
“Never heard of ‘humans,’ but they’re not an Accepted Species, which means you’re risking your lives simply by being in this sector, much less docking at stations and walking around in them—or running, as it were. What’s your objective, beyond kidnapping me?”
She and Caleb exchanged another glance, and this time he indicated assent. “The same as yours: to topple the Directorate and free the species it enslaves.”
The man’s gaze shot behind her to where Mesme had coalesced into a somewhat humanoid form. “You’re saying this in front of the Kat? It will report you!”
You understand nothing, anarch. The disdain in Mesme’s tone was both uncharacteristic and impossible to miss.
“I understand the Kats are the Directorate’s sycophants. Cowards and mewling bootlickers.”
Mesme surged forward to swirl in agitation around the Anaden where he sat. You. Understand. Nothing.
Alex kept a straight face, but Mesme’s reaction was surprising. Yes, the man had insulted it, but Mesme’s usual temperament gave ‘dispassionate’ a bad name. This was new.
The Anaden raised his hands in surrender. “Clearly. I’m sorry—now back off.”
The intensity of Mesme’s swirling lessened, but it continued to probe him for a couple of revolutions before retreating.
He eyed Mesme warily until it settled down off to Alex’s right. “How did you find me? Or to be more specific, how did you know where I would be, the delicate nature of my situation and that I was an anarch? It’s not what I’d call common knowledge.”
A corner of Alex’s mouth curled up. “The mewling bootlicker and you have a mutual acquaintance.”
“Someone in the anarchs betrayed me?”
Not betrayed. Sought to assist us both.
“Who?”
I will not reveal this information. To do so would be the betrayal.
“That’s one perspective.” He slouched in the chair. “Well, this is not how I saw my day going when I woke up this morning. All right. Agree to drop me off at a location of my choosing in the next…how fast does your ship go? Never mind. Drop me off in the next ten hours, and I’ll answer your questions, within reason. But I won’t betray anarch secrets, and I decide what that means.”
“Deal.” Alex left the cockpit and went over to one of the cabinets. She unlocked it, slid the spiral bracelet-turned-conductivity lash off her forearm and stored it.
Once it was secure in its case and the cabinet locked, she rested against the data table beside Caleb, squeezed his hand and drew closer to whisper in his ear. “You were fantastic back there.”
He squeezed her hand and murmured, “So were you,” before motioning for their guest to continue.
The man regarded them curiously for a moment. “My name is Eren asi-Idoni, 62nd Savitas Lineage, 12th Epoch Proper. I am three hundred twelve years old, formerly of the Idoni Dynasty and now a field operative for the anarch resistance against the Anaden Directorate.”
“You’re how old?”
“I know, hardly more than a child. No need to remind me. Of course, this body is barely a month old. The last one got atomized when I blew up the Phoenix Gateway. The one before the last one got its head ripped off in a nasty encounter with an angry Ch’mshak. Admittedly, he had cause to be angry, as I had just destroyed his ship…and cargo…and a few other valuables.”
She scowled. According to Mesme, 478 passengers on two vessels, as well as thirty-one people on the adjacent Arx, were killed in the Phoenix Gateway explosion. She pulsed Caleb.
Mesme was right. The anarchs are nothing but terrorists.
Probably. But they’re terrorists fighting our enemy, which suggests they can still be useful.
She reluctantly buried the scowl. “We know the Dynasties operate on some sort of group consciousness you call an ‘integral.’ Does this mean you can hear the thoughts of your leader—your Primor?”
“It’s not a group consciousness. It’s a pervasive, invasive choke chain. And I haven’t heard any thoughts from the Idoni integral in ninety-seven years. But no. Thoughts do traverse the integral, but only upwardly and horizontally—never down to those lesser. So when I was a part of it, I was not privy to the musings of the Primor. Thank Athena, for what vile horrors they must be.”
“So you were able to break away from the integral, then. How did it come about, exactly?”
“You don’t pull any punches, do you? Do you have any idea how personal a question that is?”
Not really. “I’m sorry. I only meant how you did it. We’re interested in the mechanics of it. We’re trying to understand how these integrals work and what they mean for…certain things.”
“Hypnols. Satisfied?”
Hypnols are the Amaranthean version of chimerals, and allegedly po
tent neurochemical drugs.
I thought I remembered the word. Thanks, Valkyrie.
In truth she’d definitely remembered it, as the factoid had been personally relevant for addiction reasons. She’d gone so far as to make a mental note: don’t accidentally try hypnols, and for the love of anything that might be holy, don’t deliberately try hypnols. One day she’d feel secure enough to again indulge in the occasional casual party chimeral without worrying it could set off some kind of relapse, but the day wasn’t here yet.
Anyway, his answer didn’t tell them much. “I was hoping for a more informative answer.”
“I burned out the part of my brain necessary to communicate with the integral. Possibly a few other parts as well. Collateral damage.”
“It was as simple as that?”
He donned a chilling, cryptic expression. “Not even close.”
6
SIYANE
MILKY WAY
* * *
“WHAT DO YOU THINK?”
Alex stared out the viewport above the bed, acknowledging and moving past the faintest twinge of the stars’ call to her, then curled her legs beneath her and scooted nearer to Caleb where he sat on the side of the bed. She kept her voice low as an added precaution, though she doubted their guest would comprehend the English they’d switched back to.
“I don’t know. I don’t like him. He’s a terrorist who blows up stations with innocent people in them—” she winced sheepishly “—and no, you don’t need to point out how blowing up buildings is now a trigger for me, and a hypocritical one at that. I’m working through it. He’s insolent bordering on obnoxious and in no way whatsoever trustworthy. But at the same time….”
“You believe he hates the Directorate and will do almost anything to see it brought down.”
“Yeah. I do.”
“So do I. I’ve had to work alongside a lot of unsavory people over the years. Mr. asi-Idoni won’t be the worst—” Caleb cut himself off with a grimace.
“What is it?”
“Talk about triggers. I’m excusing his murder of innocents because I believe his cause is a just one. It’s one tiny step away from agreeing with what my father did at the start of the First Crux War.” He shook his head. “Shades of gray…I swear they’ll be my undoing.”
“No.” Her brow furrowed in contemplation. “I think…shades of gray are hard and messy, and they deprive us of explicit rules to steer our decisions. But—this was something I pondered on while you and Mom were on Earth kicking Winslow the Elder’s ass—what if black-and-white rules and absolutes lead to the rise of people like the Winslows? What if ultimately they lead to a society like the one the Anadens have imposed on Amaranthe?”
The image of a man in a window consumed by flames haunted her, now and often, but it helped to believe her transgression had in the end been a lesser evil which helped stop a greater one. The palliative would be cheating if it didn’t feel true.
“If it’s easy, you’re doing it wrong.” He sighed. “Another Samuelism. He was wrong about a lot of things, but…he was right about a lot of them, too. So, hard way it is?”
She made a face suitable to convey her distaste for what was unfortunately the correct answer.
His hand came to her jaw as he leaned in and kissed her gently; she immediately deepened the kiss.
They’d made their first overt move today, and it had been stressful and intense, not to mention dangerous. She felt exhausted, though it was mainly the adrenaline bottoming out and would pass once she got her hands on an energy drink. Mostly she wanted nothing more than to stay right here, on this bed. In his arms. Eventually, wearing fewer items of clothing. Maybe some soft jazz on the speakers for added ambiance.
But while Valkyrie and Mesme both kept a watch on their guest upstairs, they still didn’t want to leave him out of their sight for too long. So after reveling in Caleb’s touch for another breath, she pulled back to meet his gaze.
The tiny crimson flecks in his irises didn’t bother her; they merely added yet greater expressiveness to already striking vibrance. “Shall we?”
“First, let’s talk strategy. He doesn’t even begin to trust me. He doesn’t trust you either, but he’s less afraid of you.” Caleb smiled teasingly. “His mistake, right? But if he’s to be convinced to help, I think you’re going to have to be the one to do it.”
“Have you seen my motivational speeches? They tend to end with strings of curses and melodramatic exits.”
He laughed. “I have. They’re spectacular.”
“Spectacularly disastrous.” She rolled her eyes to emphasize the point but climbed off the bed. “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
The Anaden was peering into the kitchen sink, two cabinets open and multiple containers on the counter beside him, when they returned upstairs.
Caleb cleared his throat, and Eren glanced over at them wearing a scowl. “I can’t figure out how anything works. This is ridiculous.”
She regarded him suspiciously. “Are you hungry?”
“Not really. I just got bored. Well…maybe a little hungry. But I’m more afraid to find out what you people eat.”
“That’s funny. We heard Idonis were naturally adventurous thrill-seekers. How scary can a taste of unfamiliar food be?”
The scowl deepened, but he abandoned his study of the sink. “I make it a habit to be as un-Idoni as possible. Except for the adventurous, thrill-seeking part. Fine. How does one prepare your supposed food?”
Caleb moved to the counter and nudged him out of the way. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll whip us up some manicotti. Alex, why don’t you open a bottle of wine? I think everyone could benefit from relaxing a bit.”
“You won’t hear me arguing.” Wine was an even better choice than an energy drink. She grabbed a bottle of sangiovese and three glasses then motioned their guest to the table.
He sat down cautiously. “What is it?”
“Alcohol. Spirits.” She searched for an applicable Communis term; as part of Mesme’s crash course on Amaranthe, her eVi had learned Communis, but knowing the language wasn’t the same as living the language. “It’s similar to….merum tsipouro.”
“Oh. In that case.” He grabbed one of the glasses and tipped it toward her.
She didn’t like him. Though the cybernetic veins running through his skin were far less overt than those of the assailant on Seneca, they still gave him a cold, harsh appearance. Alien, no matter what genetics they shared.
But as appointed persuader-in-chief she had a job to do, so she donned a pleasant visage and filled his glass, filled theirs and settled in her chair. “Valkyrie, how far are we from the location our guest provided?”
‘We will arrive at the Ursa Major I Arx in approximately two and a half hours.’
“Thank you.” Her eyes flitted toward the Kat hovering at the front of the cabin then across the table to the Anaden. “Mesme, why don’t you go check on your ship. You can meet us later.”
You wish for me to depart now? Why do you ask this?
“Because of all the evolved life forms on this ship that Eren asi-Idoni doesn’t trust, I believe he trusts you the least. I want him to hear what I have to say with as open a mind as possible, and he can’t do so while you’re making him twitch like a marionette on juiced strings.”
Eren shrugged over the rim of his glass, and with the visual equivalent of a sigh Mesme spun up and departed.
“You’re insane. In three hundred years of a life filled with debauchery, appalling excess, rebellion against a merciless, all-powerful regime and a record-setting number of suicide stunts, you are the two most insane individuals I have ever met.”
Eren refilled his drink, crossed his arms over his chest while still holding the wine, and leaned back to regard them with defiant eyes in an open challenge to prove him wrong.
Caleb chuckled wryly. “This isn’t the first time we’ve been called insane. But the fact we’re alive, here and sitting across from you should t
ell you something.”
“Not much. What in Hades’ five rivers do you want with details on Machim vessel construction, layouts, weaponry, defenses, movements and operational chains of command? There are two of you. Or possibly four. I doubt this little ship could so much as dent a single Machim warship, so what do you care what fifteen million of them are doing?”
Fifteen million…Alex squelched a shudder. “We never said we were alone.”
“Are you now saying you’re not alone?”
She hid her pursed lips behind her glass. She sucked at subterfuge and the cloak-and-dagger routine…. “You could call us an advance scouting party. The important thing is we can use the intel. We will use the intel. We’ll use it to challenge the Directorate on a level and in a way it has never faced. With this information, we can bring it to its knees.”
She had no idea if they—humans, her mother, the AEGIS fleet, the Prevos—stood any genuine chance of doing such a thing. But having seen a few tiny glimpses of this universe’s iniquities, she damn well intended to make sure they tried.
Perhaps her conviction showed in her expression and tone, because Eren’s defiant posture softened. “I can’t get it for you. It’s beyond my skills, my access, my everything.”
Caleb didn’t dispute his assertion. “Can one of your comrades?”
“Another anarch? Someone higher up and more influential than me, you mean?”
Caleb lifted his shoulders in answer.
“I don’t see how. If we were capable of pulling off heists of such grandeur, we would already be doing them. We have several Machims in the organization, but by definition they’re no longer connected to the Machim integral, as it’s impossible to be both and function. And accessing the kind of data you’re talking about is impossible without either being connected to the integral or having access to…Directorate-level files….”
Relativity: Aurora Resonant Book One (Aurora Rhapsody 7) Page 4
