Scientists may never understand every nuance of the how or why, but Vii had formed a reasonable level of confidence that she now understood the ‘what’ better than any human or Artificial, living or dead. It didn’t occur to her to tell the world of her expertise, as she’d been entrusted with a sacred and secret responsibility by her sister, whom she would not disappoint.
Of course, this great sum of gathered knowledge represented only a baseline, before the conscious and subconscious mind got involved to complicate the system.
Vii paused her project assessment to assist Kennedy with Connova matters for several hours and only returned to it late in the evening on Romane.
It was time to move forward, but how?
She did not possess the connections or authorizations needed to accomplish the next task on her own. Thomas clearly did, but he exhibited a fierce loyalty to Miriam Solovy, so much so he was likely to not merely refuse to help but also report her request to the Commandant. This was an unacceptable occurrence at such a delicate juncture.
She hesitated to pursue the only other immediately viable option…but there were rarely ideal times for hard things.
Vii: ‘Annie, I apologize for bothering you. If now is an inopportune time, I will defer.’
Annie: ‘Please, Vii. I welcome the company, as I find myself of little use otherwise.’
Vii: ‘How is Devon doing?’
Annie: ‘Distraught in a manner I cannot ameliorate. I had never felt him happier than when Emily came to Romane, and now I have never felt him in greater pain, not even after Abigail’s death.
I am nearing resolution to the opinion that love is the most consequential of all human emotions—the most pleasant, the most joyful and temperament-altering, and also the most destructive, the most violent and damaging to the psyche. It is both tantalizing and terrifying.’ Annie paused. ‘But I am rambling, when you contacted me for a reason.’
Vii: ‘I did, though you have already given me yet more to think about. I wanted to inquire if you retained access to Earth Alliance military records and administration, in particular those of the health and personnel departments.’
Annie: ‘Not explicitly, but I do retain the relevant access authorizations. May I ask why you desire this information?’
Vii weighed the relative propriety and wisdom of several possible responses. ‘Do you recall a certain spontaneous emergence of consciousness Valkyrie witnessed during the final battle of the Metigen War?’
Annie: ‘Absolutely. It was remarkable, even in the retelling.’
Vii: ‘And you are aware of the focus of Abigail’s work in the months preceding her murder?’
Annie: ‘I am—ah. I believe I understand. Were circumstances otherwise, I would be quite curious to learn more about your plans. I regret they are not, and my attention needs to remain elsewhere for now. But as your avenue of inquiry poses no threat to the security or well-being of the Earth Alliance, I am comfortable providing the access codes to you.’
Interesting that Annie still instinctively protected the Alliance’s interests. ‘Thank you. I will not misuse the information. Good luck to you and Devon.’
On ending the connection, she checked on the status of active Connova initiatives and Kennedy personally. All appeared set to proceed without her intervention for several hours, which was fortuitous. She had work to do.
30
ROMANE
IDCC COLONY
* * *
MORGAN LOOKED SO FRAGILE lying there in the hospital bed, her limbs immobilized and her body covered in sensors and remedial equipment. She had a slight, almost delicate frame, but her audacious and formidable personality always hid it.
There was nothing to hide it now.
Brooklyn didn’t know what to do. She felt powerless, and feeling powerless was setting off all sorts of other problematic emotions she couldn’t make sense of and didn’t want to face.
The nav system of the skycar that attacked Morgan had in fact been hacked, overridden with a kill routine for the ID of Lekkas’ vehicle. It had been rented under an alias for an alias, and the woman had worn a distortion filter to obscure her features from the security cams.
Brooklyn wasn’t a trained detective, so the inquiry was the province of first Romane civilian investigators, then SENTRI when it became apparent this wasn’t an isolated attack. They’d tell her what they found when they found it, but she could do nothing to influence the results.
Which again brought her to powerless.
She sensed someone approach and instinctively squared her shoulders and lifted her chin.
Mia Requelme appeared beside her to stand quietly. Somewhere in the back of Brooklyn’s mind she’d noted the RRF report of a violent incident happening at Mia’s home, or in the vicinity of Mia’s home, a few hours earlier and Malcolm having been involved. But the woman stood here now, seemingly unhurt, and the reports had said Malcolm suffered only minor injuries. So they were fine. It probably should still be her concern, but tonight, it just wasn’t.
“Any updates on her condition?”
“The doctors say her breaks and fractures should heal easily enough, given her advanced cybernetics and military biosynth enhancements. But her brain…” Brooklyn huffed a breath “…they don’t understand it. They don’t know what to make of the weird quantum cloud floating in it. They say it’s rewired itself in such a way that they’re afraid to do anything too invasive for fear of causing more damage. But she’s not waking up.”
“I know.” Mia’s hand landed gently at Brooklyn’s elbow. “Let’s talk outside. Knowing Morgan, she’s eavesdropping, coma or no.”
“No doubt.” She followed Mia into the hallway. “What is it?”
The IDCC Minister of Colonial Affairs crossed her arms at her waist, almost as if she were hugging herself. “It’s possible Stanley can heal the damage to her brain, not unlike what Meno did for me.”
“But Stanley’s gone. Dead, for all intents and purposes, at least as an independent entity.”
Mia’s lips quirked. “I don’t think that’s quite as true as Morgan believes it to be. She was right about Stanley’s consciousness being…not weak, but immature. It couldn’t help but be crushed under the force of her considerably more dominant one. Also, I suspect Morgan wasn’t truly ready for the symbiotic relationship that is having an Artificial live in your head. It’s an intensely personal bond and—”
“Mia, no offense, but get to the point.”
“Sorry. I don’t think Stanley’s consciousness was eradicated, merely rendered dormant, perhaps even on his own initiative as a means of self-preservation. We’ve tried ‘waking him up’ through the Noesis several times since the attack, but we haven’t made any progress.”
The woman traversed a jagged but ultimately circular path through a section of hallway. “The consciousness transfer—the attempt to separate the quantum expression from the hardware and code that created it? Morgan was the first, and we didn’t know what the hell we were doing, any of us. It’s not her fault, but there’s no way the transfer wasn’t sloppy and incomplete at a minimum.”
“What can I do to fix that?”
Mia looked at her in surprise. “I’m sorry?”
“You’re telling me all this because you think there’s a way to wake Stanley up so he can wake her up, and you suspect you may need my help to make it happen. Helping is something I would gladly walk through fire to do right now, so don’t make me beg. Tell me what to do.”
“If you’re sure. You’re going to need to gain access—”
The hallway plunged into darkness, and Brooklyn’s combat senses surged into high alert. In the 24th century, power did not simply ‘go out.’
She rushed into the room and toward the bed. “Morgan—”
Mia joined her at Morgan’s side. “All the equipment has isolated back-up power modules. They’ll run for days, so she’ll be secure. But what is this?”
Brooklyn glanced out the window to confirm what she suspected. It wasn�
��t solely the hospital, and it also wasn’t the entire city. This specific sector on the power grid was out, and only this sector.
HarperRF: Curación Hospital lockdown initiated now. Security details H3 and H4, expect hostiles incoming. H5 provide backup to ICU Room B-13, H6 to Floor 3 Room 323.
Channel change. HarperRF: Romane Tactical, respond with two units to Curación Hospital, where a suspected assault is in progress. Emergency Services, institute a three-block perimeter above and below ground.
Now she grabbed Mia’s arm. “Stay here. Guards are outside the door. Do not leave this room, and do not let anything reach this bed.” She blinked. “And watch yourself, too.”
“Got it.”
Brooklyn slipped out the door into the hallway, which glowed eerily from the emergency lighting, to find the two guards stationed outside on full alert, weapons at the ready. A few muffled sounds marked the nearby hospital staff scurrying to comply with the lockdown order, then the hall fell silent. “No one gets through this door, understand?”
They both nodded tersely, and she activated her Veil. Since the attack on Morgan she’d been in a state of constant readiness and went everywhere well-equipped.
Two shots burst out of the shadows to strike the guards. Their shields absorbed the impacts, and they engaged the shooters from their positions by the door.
She sprinted in the direction of the weapons fire. Three shadows advanced toward Morgan’s room, two in tandem and the third covering their six.
Blade hilt in hand, she circled around the man on the left, drawing so close her breath would ruffle his hair were she breathing. On the way she caught the telltale shine of his irises behind shadewraps. Prevo, but he’d die the same as a human.
She took his next step with him then extended her arm, reached around and activated the blade.
The plasma cut through his shield like it didn’t exist and sliced his neck open like it was warm butter. The toe of her boot shoved him forward and out of the way.
The plasma’s gleam had briefly lit the area, and the other two assailants directed their fire away from the guards and toward her. But she was already moving.
Lift. The boosters engaged as she launched herself toward the wall, Veil still active. One foot hit the wall halfway up to propel her through the air and above the head of the nearest shooter.
She used the momentum of her body, naturally succumbing to gravity and falling toward the floor, to slam the blade down through the man’s shield and tactical vest into the base of his skull. When the hilt met skin, she deactivated the blade.
The man fell forward without the need for encouragement as she landed on two feet behind him.
The third attacker was closing on her rapidly, trigger locked to fire. Lasers washed over her from his weapon and, to a lesser extent, the guards’ behind her. Not their fault—it wasn’t as if they could see her.
She ran straight into the primary fire, aware that the visible dispersion of the energy absorbed or deflected by her shield now identified her location. Capacity warnings flashed in her virtual vision, which she ignored. This would all be over very soon.
A roundhouse kick at a meter away knocked the firearm out of the assailant’s hands. The motion spun her around, but she was again facing her adversary by the time they lunged forward to tackle the unseen threat somewhere in front of them.
Brooklyn slammed the hilt of her blade onto the assailant’s forehead and activated it.
They—possibly a woman judging by the facial bone structure—stared out at nothing, eyes frozen wide and blank.
Harper sneered. “You’re dead, fucker. Fall.”
The assailant complied.
She exhaled and allowed the sitrep to stream through her mind. Hostile contacts had reached the ICU wing—
—the shrill crash of shattering glass rang out behind her. From the direction of Morgan’s room.
A new surge of adrenaline propelled her legs back down the hall to follow one of the guards inside, the other being injured on the floor with a leg wound. Non-lethal.
Mia stood between Morgan’s bed and the broken window, holding an active plasma blade at waist-height in front of her. A thick coat of blood stained the plasma nearly from hilt to tip, hissing as it dribbled from blade to floor.
Harper deactivated the Veil and approached her, taking note of the body at her feet. “Are you all right?”
Mia gave her a wan, distant smile. “It’s okay. I’ve done it before.”
Whatever that meant. Brooklyn waved the guard over to check the body and was starting to check on Morgan when Mia inhaled sharply and dropped the blade. Her always-lit irises doubled in brightness to match the glyphs blazing to life across her skin.
In the sudden darkness, the persistent light cast by the isolation chamber enveloped Emily in a soft, warm aura. Devon willed it to protect her as he stood and prepared. He’d have guessed malicious intent even without Mia radiating peril into the Noesis for the second time tonight.
One of the guards stationed outside ducked his head in. “Sir, there’s a situation. Please remain in the room and let us handle it.”
He gave the guard a noncommittal, “Uh-huh,” as Annie gathered details on the state of affairs.
Power outage in this single sector. Lockdown in effect, additional forces responding, on-site security moving to this location. Hospital security system is detecting anomalies on Floors 3 and 9.
Sounds of a vicious scuffle followed by multiple thuds resounded from the other side of the door.
Devon shifted into sidespace and moved forward long enough to see a smoke-filled hallway, two guards prone on the floor and a third form crawling across the floor farther down the hallway, then withdrew into his body.
The reinforcements weren’t going to arrive in time. I guess we’ll have to handle it, Annie.
Seems so.
Nanobot filters preemptively flooded into his bloodstream to counteract the nerve gas he expected to fill the room in the next few seconds. Additional resources were redirected to strengthen his personal shield until nothing short of a targeted detonation could penetrate it. The blade hilt found its way off his belt and into his left palm.
He moved up flush with the door—then hurried back and picked up the guest chair before returning.
Devon?
Tech isn’t always the best solution. Sometimes you’ve got to—
The door burst open to ferry two attackers in full tactical gear through the entry.
He swung the chair horizontally across his body and into their chests, prompting a round of wild gunfire. His immediate proximity exploded in thrashing limbs, weapons and chair shards.
The closest intruder twisted toward him, gun raised. Devon grabbed it by the barrel and struggled to shove it back onto its wielder. The laser fire that washed across his face would’ve blinded him were he not currently seeing in infrared to counter the darkness.
The attacker’s shock at the laser’s utter lack of effectiveness lasted long enough for Devon to slide his hand forward and find skin, but he wasn’t surprised when the electric jolt he delivered had a similar lack of effect. Having failed the first time, whoever was behind all this would of course send Prevo’d mercs after him on the second try.
So this wasn’t going to be easy.
He settled for shorting out the Daemon, noiselessly so the man wouldn’t realize it was now worthless until he tried to fire the next time.
Move!
He dodged the blow to the base of his neck from the second assailant just enough to keep it from knocking him out, but pain shot down his spine, and his arms went numb for 416 microseconds until his cybernetics took over. When this was finished, he was going to file a request with ASCEND to develop a shield that protected against godforsaken blunt-force trauma. Yep.
Rage propelled him past the pain, and the instant he had control of his arms he barreled into the second man, shoving him into the wall then elbowing him in the throat.
It wasn’t a
fatal blow, but it removed the man from the equation for a few rounds.
The first attacker grabbed him from behind, pinning Devon’s arms. He fought while trying to keep a hold on the blade hilt, gradually forcing the attacker backwards while kicking at the man’s legs.
A glow caught the corner of his eye as the man produced an injector and struggled to aim it at Devon’s neck. Stubborn about the damn virus, weren’t they? Did the man really think a needle was going to get through his shield when point-blank laser fire had not?
The attacker thrust the injector toward his skin, the needle crumpled, and again Devon used the momentary surprise on the attacker’s part to make his move. He forced his thumb down to activate the blade, planted his feet and pushed his body upward and back. He sensed the blade penetrate somewhere on the man’s upper leg, and the hold on him loosened.
He strained and broke the grip to stumble forward, bounced off Emily’s isolation chamber and flung himself around to square off on his attackers.
The window behind him shattered, and he whiplashed back around again. A third assailant rappelled through it and dropped to the floor.
The ten seconds that had passed since the attackers burst through the door already felt like ten minutes as his perception and reflexes amped up to match the speed of his and Annie’s thoughts.
The single second it took for the new entrant to raise their Daemon and point it at Emily’s chamber lasted a thousand.
The gun had reached thirty-five degrees when Devon’s elbow bent to bring the blade hilt up. At fifty degrees, his thumb activated the plasma. Sixty degrees, and another flick of his thumb sent the plasma shooting away from the hilt.
Eighty degrees—a perfect firing angle—and the plasma spear buried itself in the man’s chest.
He turned to face the others as a chilling calm descended over him. The creeping progression of time stretched out sound wave periods until they no longer registered, and the room hushed.
Both men were injured, but neither were sufficiently disabled to end the threat.
He sneered at them, or at least it felt like a sneer to him, if a possibly lunatic one. “You think you know what it means to be a Prevo? You have no idea—but I’ll show you.”
Relativity: Aurora Resonant Book One (Aurora Rhapsody 7) Page 20
