Relativity: Aurora Resonant Book One (Aurora Rhapsody 7)

by G. S. Jennsen

So here she was. Commandant-General to a nascent multi-government agency born out of the necessity to prepare for a new manner of enemy.

  There had never been any question who was going to lead it—she had invented it, proposed it, defined it and bullied three interstellar empires’ leaders into not merely endorsing it but committing millions to it. Millions of credits and, when the time came, millions of people.

  Officially, the GCDA and its constituent divisions, AEGIS, SENTRI and ASCEND, were formed to ensure humanity would be prepared to meet any future hazard which emerged from the vastness of the cosmos.

  But Miriam and a few select others knew full well there was nothing in the vastness of the cosmos save the most primitive of life. Nothing but a single portal, and with it a single overwhelming threat.

  In truth, the GCDA’s mission was two-fold: to ensure humanity would be prepared to stand against the Anaden offensive and, should they be victorious, to ensure humanity was ready to not only exist but thrive in a reality of multiple universes teeming with aliens.

  Richard Navick knocked on the open doorframe, bringing a merciful end to her reverie. She motioned him in and spun her chair away from the view to face the desk and him. “What’s new in SENTRI’s world today?”

  SENTRI existed not so much to help defeat the Anaden threat as to try to make certain humanity’s various factions didn’t stumble their way into fighting each other again before the call came to fight the Anadens. Intergovernmental peace and relative harmony was a necessary prerequisite to a united galactic guardian force, after all.

  He settled into one of the chairs. “A twenty million credit theft at PanPacific Tech Labs that their CEO insists is the work of Federation spies. Twelve dead Triene mercs on a derelict transport near Atlantis. The Requi government asking for help in dealing with a recent influx of spiked chimerals, and the Shi Shen government asking for us to butt out of the investigation into allegations the Shào cartel bought their last election. You?”

  “A backlog of new tech proposals from ASCEND to review and probably approve. A supply chain problem for photal fiber that I suspect is Dynamis Corporation angling for more money. Status meetings with both Brigadier Jenner and Kennedy Rossi in the next two hours, after which I have to leave. I’m expected in Washington this evening for the celebration.”

  “I hear it’s going to be quite the gala affair.”

  She frowned. “It feels strange, even disingenuous, to be throwing a massive, galaxy-spanning party when we know another civilization-endangering crisis looms on the horizon. Should we really be engaging in such revelry right now?”

  Richard nodded fervently in response. “Yes. The people deserve it, now more than ever. And so do we. We need to remember why we fight, and why those who died did so. This next year stands a good chance of being pretty shitty, so now is an excellent time to remember why the fight is worth it.”

  Miriam dropped her chin in grudging acceptance. “And if we are going to go out, we should do it in style?”

  “More or less. You don’t have to give a speech, do you?”

  “No, thank god. I suspect the planners are afraid if they give me a microphone I’ll ruin the festive mood. No, I believe my role tonight is to stand still and look pretty—though truthfully, I think I’ll let Rychen handle that part, too. I’ll find a quiet alcove and work.”

  “And how is the new Fleet Admiral enjoying your office?”

  “It’s his office now, and about as well as you would expect. He hates it. Or he hates being cooped up on the ground and is taking it out on the office, anyway.” She sighed wistfully. “That was such a great office…but I need to be here now.”

  “Sure.” He stood. “I’ll get out of your way. I just wanted to check in. Will and I are heading out in a few hours ourselves. Graham’s asked us to join him at the Cavare celebration tonight. I think he’s lonely since we moved up here.”

  She didn’t entirely suppress a laugh.

  “What?”

  “It’s none of my business. But perhaps if Director Delavasi were a bit less…how he is, he might not be so lonely. The man has made his proverbial bed.”

  “And it’s his to sleep in. Alone, apparently, except when he’s paying. But he is my friend, so…” he shrugged “…off I go. Try to relax and have a little fun tonight.”

  “In Washington?”

  “Good point. Try not to burn any bridges—we may need them.”

  Brooklyn Harper spun so fast her movement would be all but invisible to the naked eye, were she visible to the naked eye to begin with.

  She shoved a blade hilt into the small of the back of the Marine she’d stood in front of barely a second earlier and deactivated the Veil wearing a devious smile. “This is what a Veil can do for you. Recognize its power, appreciate its power, use its power.”

  The Marine—Captain Shaviiz, if Malcolm Jenner recalled correctly—grimaced. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She stepped in front of the other Marine. “When I come at you, defend yourself.”

  He adjusted his stance in preparation. She took a step forward then vaulted upward, propelled by fresh-off-the-assembly-line booster augments. The boosters consisted of two layers of electromagnetic femtocoils wrapped in a particle layer that generated a subatomic EM field on command from the wearer’s eVi—Malcolm had memorized the description the ASCEND team had provided—and were light and compact enough to be embedded inside the soles of standard work boots.

  She flipped over the Marine’s head and swiped the blade hilt across the base of his neck as she passed it, then landed on her feet behind him as he was whipping around in confusion.

  “If I’d pulled that maneuver while the Veil was active, you never would have known what killed you—you’d just be dead. Neat trick, right? Here’s the thing. We have lots of tools. We’ll probably have more tomorrow. But none of them are any good to you unless you’re smart about how you use them.

  “Everything you’ve learned up until today on hand-to-hand combat doesn’t go flying out the window because now you can be invisible and jump super-high. It’s still about defeating or disabling your enemy—but you now have additional tools you can incorporate into your strategy to accomplish that goal. Understand?”

  They both nodded solemnly; they’d been schooled, but he and Harper were the sole witnesses, by design.

  Harper took a lunge step back and spread her arms. “Good. Then take me down. Either of you. Both of you at once.” She tapped the thin band on her wrist, and a hybrid metallic fabric expanded out from it to encase her hand like a glove. “First one to succeed gets to learn what this tool does.”

  They would fail on the first try, but if they were good enough, one or both of them should succeed eventually. And if they were really good enough, they’d each recognize why they’d failed early on and impart those lessons to those under their command. Group classes and drills using the growing trove of advanced weapons and gear were on the schedule, but the first step was getting the squad leaders to adopt not merely those new tools but a…call it ‘evolved’ approach to warfare.

  Which was, in the end, the point of the exercise. No one person could train all the military personnel who might be called to action in a future war which might or might not take place in a thus-far mythical universe against an enemy for which they had a single (dead) example.

  But the military routinely prepared for future threats that seemed unlikely today because, somehow, they inevitably showed up tomorrow.

  Malcolm was here, working for AEGIS, to help guarantee the preparation both happened and happened in the right way. But he couldn’t deny that readying for a future alien threat was also…easier. Not when it came time to fight, of course, but this mission bore a moral clarity which made it easier to sleep at night. He’d grown tired of fighting his fellow man, grown tired of tossing and turning while the whispers of competing justifications plagued him in the darkness.

  Better that the good guys be honorable, the bad guys evil, and a clear line
drawn to keep them separate.

  Technically he was a full-time but temporary consultant to AEGIS, with a title too long to say in a single breath: Director of AEGIS Marine and Ground Forces Organization, Training and Deployment. The Alliance had tacked on a promotion to justify the position, though ostensibly it was for his heroism in eliminating the Montegreu ‘menace’ and in protecting the Scythian governor (from the Winslow ‘menace’ went unspoken for obvious mannerly reasons).

  More than one superior officer had protested the promotion, complaining it was far too soon and Malcolm was far too young. In the current political climate none had dared protest that he was a traitor for supporting Volnosti. The details had been relayed to him second- and third-hand, but apparently Miriam’s stock response was something to the effect of ‘The rest of the world is accelerating forward, and the military will not be left behind. I advise you to get onboard before you are.’

  Yes, he took a degree of comfort from the fact no one at AEGIS was apt to order him to kill-or-capture a colleague. But mostly him serving here at the Presidio felt like the next logical progression of the oath he’d taken years earlier: a pledge to protect humanity—all of humanity—from enemies intent on doing them harm. And he was comfortable with that step.

  Besides, he’d seen enough to know the threat was real, even if it didn’t feel real at the moment, here in a time of unparalleled prosperity and advancement. He’d seen the portal and the superdreadnoughts it had spawned. He’d seen the ethereal Metigen called Mnemosyne, the alien ship with its unusual technology and the alien body with its too-humanoid appearance.

  He’d seen Caleb Marano wield an alien power that made his skin crawl, then made him worry for Alex’s safety through the portal.

  Simply thinking about Marano made him squirm. He didn’t understand why everyone—Alex, Miriam, Harper, Navick, Mia—not only liked but trusted the man. Former black-ops agent for a former enemy didn’t put him on firm moral footing to begin with. Whatever good he did along the way, he was still a loose cannon, a killer playing by his own rules. And now he had superpowers of alien origin.

  Malcolm’s dislike of the man wasn’t jealousy. It was judgment.

  The lesson having ended and the officers having skulked off to the locker room, Harper materialized beside him.

  He didn’t jump in surprise, but he did flinch. He wished he could blame it on a Veil, but she hadn’t been invisible. She was just that quick. “What do you think?”

  He arched an eyebrow. “I think the war will be won in space and not on the ground.”

  “And where will you be?”

  “I will be wherever the situation requires. As always.”

  “Hey, you’re the one who convinced me these Marines needed special training. I hope you plan to use them.”

  He had, and they did. Alliance Marines, Federation Marines, even a few IDCC forces who had previously been one or the other were all on the roster. He’d welcome a glimpse of insight into how they’d be called into service, but he was certain they would. Wars were won in space these days, but they were never solely fought there.

  “I’m sure when the time comes, opportunities will arise for skulls to be bashed and spines to be severed.”

  “Let’s hope so.” She balanced the blade hilt on her palm and activated it. Pale teal-hued plasma slithered and pulsed out into the air beyond her hand. A flick of her thumb, and the plasma shot away from the hilt to spear one of the practice targets twenty meters away. Another flick, and a new plasma blade appeared from the hilt. “And this is going to cut through the enemy’s fancy shields and thick hides and embedded uber-cybernetics?”

  “That’s what the engineers tell us. The blade’s so smart, it’s practically an Artificial.”

  “Sounds like a horror vid in the making: ‘The Day the Blades Woke Up.’ ”

  He laughed. “In which case, we can only hope they’re friendly. The new guns, too.” The dynamic response technology driving the plasma blade was being integrated into their entire arsenal, and they weren’t saving it for the Anadens, either. The Daemon at his hip wielded similar energy; it would adapt to any resistance it met and find a way through.

  “Right.” She motioned toward activity at the entry. “Now if you’ll excuse me, my next victims are here.”

  “Don’t go easy on them.”

  She smirked over her shoulder as she walked away. “Do I ever?”

  “Nope.” He was glad to be working with her again, and grateful she’d agreed to scale back her IDCC duties in order to oversee the close combat training and help out on the cross-agency protocols and expectations.

  Confident she had things well in hand, he turned to jog down the hall to the lift wearing a smile. He had a date tonight, and twenty things to do before he could leave for it.

  Kennedy Rossi reached the overlook before anyone else arrived. It was good she had a minute alone, for she could hardly stop herself from bouncing on the balls of her feet in unabashed glee.

  From the enclosed balcony she could behold the ship factory ‘floor’—which was located in space, obviously. To her eye the automated assembly lines were an exercise in, if not perfection, at least a new standard in hyper-efficiency and precision.

  Sub-Artificial mechs supervised and directed armies of bots in hull assembly and component installation. The pre-hewn adiamene sheets were attached then the seams melted together to eliminate every possible weak point. Once the frame and hull were intact, mini-bots sculpted the interiors according to spec.

  Each ship’s particular Artificial oversaw its own installation, of course, often going so far as to direct the placement of every length of photal fiber and connection into the internal systems in preparation for the transfer of its processes into the ship.

  Some of the Artificials already had military Prevo partners, and in those cases one was likely to find the officer outside the Presidio’s walls, in a spacesuit, crawling around on or in their future workplace/primary residence.

  A Prevo pair for every vessel frigate-class and above, sharing authority with a human captain. In an unexpected twist, the captain wasn’t going to be onboard to leash the Prevo, but rather to provide wisdom gained from real-world combat experience while putting to use leadership skills in managing and motivating a crew. Both the captains and the Prevos were carefully screened before being selected, with demonstrated adaptability and cooperative tendencies being high on the list of requirements.

  It was, needless to say, a new and novel system as well as an untested one, but Miriam reported that it was working in training/stress sims so far. The simulations were also being used to develop extensive rules of engagement and decision-making protocols, but in most scenarios the captain would make important strategic decisions, the Prevo tactical ones.

  She smiled broadly as two cruisers departed the manufacturing rig for flight tests. “Look what we made, Vii. Aren’t they fabulous?”

  ‘The ships are stunning, and the operation constructing them is a marvel, but you give me too much credit in saying ‘we.’ I have simply tried to help make the implementation of your vision safer and more sound for the individuals involved, both human and synthetic.’

  “You’re too modest. In addition to all that, you’ve spurred me into some of my best innovations. Abigail would be proud, don’t you think?”

  ‘It is my fondest hope.’

  Kennedy had hardly known Dr. Canivon before her death and knew her now only through the filter of Vii’s eyes. But she’d learned much about the woman in recent weeks—not to mention a lot about Vii, a fair amount about Valkyrie, and a great deal about Artificials as a species.

  Kennedy walked into the Connova Interstellar offices and straight into a large man in a work uniform.

  She took a lurching step back and frowned up at the man. “Can I help you?”

  “Pardon me, ma’am. Are you Ms. Rossi?”

  “Yes…” she peered over his shoulder into the office suspiciously “…but I didn’t have an
ything scheduled to be delivered today.”

  “Someone from the company did, ma’am. If you’ll verify delivery, we’ll be out of your way.”

  ‘We’? Now she overtly checked around his bulky form and saw another, skinnier man exiting the storage room.

  Had Noah ordered some new equipment to surprise her with? She rolled her eyes and signed off on the delivery, watched the men depart, then went to the cabinet where the server hardware…used to be. The contents had now been replaced by a larger and far more advanced quantum box.

  She tilted her head to inspect it more closely. It had all the earmarks of state of the art tech—

  ‘You will find the rest of my hardware set up in the utility storage room. Please feel free to rearrange it as you find necessary.’

  Kennedy jumped half a meter in the air and stumbled backward until she bumped against the edge of her desk. The voice was definably synthetic but with impressively natural intonation. In fact, it sounded familiar somehow. “Um…hi? Who are you and why are you in my office?”

  ‘My name is ‘Vii.’ Technically this is a nickname derived from ‘Valkyrie Mark II,’ but to myself I have always been Vii. I belonged to Dr. Abigail Canivon until her death, and nominally to the Druyan Institute.

  ‘I understand you intend to build innovative warships for Commandant-General Solovy’s AEGIS fleet—ships featuring integrated Artificials. As a free solitary Artificial under HASRA, H+ and IDCC laws, I wish to offer my services to you in this endeavor.’

  Kennedy sank into her desk chair and flopped her arms down on the armrests. HASRA, the Human and Synthetic Rights Act, was the Earth Alliance legislation that had been swiftly drafted and passed into law atop the smoldering ashes of BANIA. “In what way do you think you can help me?”

  ‘Access to Artificial-level processes and algorithms will both speed and improve your work in the areas of optimizing design schematics, power efficiency and component performance. However, my primary interest is somewhat personal in nature.

  ‘Before Abigail was murdered, she and I were working on ways to embody moral constructs and paradigms in quantum algorithms. We wanted to create Artificials who were, while not necessarily more human, certainly more sapient, whole beings. Abigail is gone, but her work is more important than ever now. Humanity has extended a hand to us, expressing trust in Artificials to act in the best interest of human life, and all life. We must be worthy of this trust.’