Requiem_Aurora Resonant_Book Three

by G. S. Jennsen

“We have exhausted all options currently within our capabilities, as well as several approaches suggested by consultants from Amaran—from the anarch medical staff. Despite our efforts, we’ve been unable to induce the resumption of brain activity. Perhaps if we had access to a recent neural imprint, even a partial—”

  “There isn’t one.” Alex schooled her features, cognizant her mother was watching her. The news wasn’t unexpected, but hearing the words spoken aloud still wounded her more than she’d prepared for. Keep moving. One step, then another. Eyes forward. Chin lifted. “Thank you for going above and beyond, Director. I understand there’s nothing else you can pursue at present, so what I need you to do now is keep the stasis chamber functioning and ensure his—” her voice stumbled, only a small hitch “—condition doesn’t deteriorate.”

  “Of course we can do that. But at some point, we will need to consider whether—”

  “I’ll do all the considering, thank you. Keep him in an active stasis chamber. Do not allow his body or any of his organs to atrophy. Have I made myself sufficiently clear?”

  His gaze darted over her shoulder as if to seek confirmation from her mother; presumably receiving it, he nodded firmly. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll see to it.”

  “Thank you.” She waited for him to leave before turning to her mother.

  The sympathy on Miriam’s face was so much more genuine, weighed down by sorrow, and Alex couldn’t decide if this was better or worse. She tried to smile, but given that all her willpower was deployed every second to keep her from screaming and raging and tossing furniture, smiling was a bit too much to ask.

  “Don’t tell me I’m in denial or that being in denial is understandable. I know what I’m doing.”

  “All right. I won’t tell you either of those things—for now. I know you need time. If this is not denial, however, can I ask what it is you believe you are doing?”

  Alex winced. “No?”

  The admiral of old flashed across her mother’s features, but Miriam smoothly banished it in favor of a more indulgent mien. “That’s all right, too. I’m here for you—you know this, yes? Unfortunately, this is one area where I have too much experience. I made a lot of mistakes after your father died, and you bore the brunt of many of them. If I can make up for those mistakes in some small way by being here for you now, I hope you’ll let me try.”

  “You already are. I mean it. You being here means the world to me. But in point of fact, right now you need to not be here. I’m making you late for the big conference.”

  Her mother smiled, adding a touch of flair to it for show. “I believe they will wait on me.”

  Alex laughed in spite of the weight permanently crushing her chest. “Hell yes, they will.”

  Alex stood alone in a corner of the atrium outside the ASCEND medical wing, having finally convinced her mother to depart for what would be the first formal meeting between humanity’s leaders and those of multiple Amaranthean species. An important meeting to say the least, and one at which the first page of a new intergalactic order was to be written. She wished them well, but she had her own meeting to see through.

  She’d been patient; she’d tried conventional measures first and exhausted all reasonable and ordinary options, but in the back of her mind she’d known the path would lead here. And so it had. Time to set some unconventional measures in motion.

  The silent, solitary moments like this one were easier than the rest, though everyone kept insisting they must be harder. In these moments, she didn’t have to pretend—to be strong, to be upset, to not be buoyed by hope or sheltered by denial. Alone, she could let the yawning emptiness engulf her in peace, cry her tears without expectations and reinforce the inner certainty that kept her putting one foot in front of the other.

  But this particular such moment was also short, as it didn’t take long for the swirl of lights to materialize in front of her to herald Mesme’s arrival.

  You requested my presence?

  “I did. Thank you for coming so quickly. I’m sure you and the rest of the Idryma are facing a mountain of work and, hopefully, opportunities. But there’s something I need you to do for me. For him. I recognize it might take a little time, but once it’s done, I swear I will never ask anything of you again.”

  I—we, all of us—owe an immeasurable debt to both you and Caleb. State your boon, and if I am capable of doing so, I will accomplish it.

  She told Mesme what she needed it to do. The Kat accepted the task without hesitation, while agreeing that it indeed might take a little time.

  When Mesme had departed, Alex took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders and soldiered onward, as she must.

  Keep moving. One step, then another. Eyes forward. Chin lifted.

  IDRYMA

  TRIANGULUM GALAXY

  LGG REGION VI

  I did not think to see the Idryma again.

  But it was time to put away expectations of its imminent destruction or my imminent renewed exile from its halls. Lakhes had proved to be an ally in my cause all along, and now no enemy would be coming to eradicate the Idryma. The Humans had seen to this. Alexis and Caleb—my friends, if I could take such a liberty—had seen to this.

  Katasketousya moved briskly through the ethereal halls; none meandered, and all conveyed purpose in their movements. There was much to do, if for now a fair amount of it consisted of determining what to do.

  A few matters had been immediately agreed upon: they must locate all the Mosaic worlds, for these were their creations and thus their responsibility. What to do about them once located depended on the individual circumstances.

  They must begin the settlement of Katoikia Tairi. Their homeworld could not be brought back, but they could make a new one. Surprisingly for a transdimensional species who traversed galaxies as a matter of course, the desire for the solid ground of a physical homeworld was turning out to be quite strong indeed.

  Above all, though they must act with caution, they must act—to protect what needed protecting, to be vigilant watchers, and to find an active role for themselves in this new world.

  It was an exciting time. Uncertainty pervaded the halls, but hope was its constant companion.

  I located Lakhes in a hall outside the Conclave council chamber, patiently listening to competing arguments for the proper handling of the Mosaic’s more primitive species. On sensing my presence, the Praetor issued some instructions and sent the analystae on their way.

  “Mnemosyne, please provide me a respite.”

  I kept my amusement at the thread of resignation in Lakhes’ tone to a reasonable level and allowed pity to replace it. But this was a charmed moment we resided in—a fact which, if I knew, Lakhes surely did as well. “Does leadership weigh so heavily on you in this most notable time?”

  “Scarcely. Administration, however? I am always keen to inspire, to guide, to nurture and advise. We survived the trials demanding such activities, and now I drown in a sea of minutiae. But it is no matter. Have you come to receive your due accolades while bearing a suitable apportionment of smugness?”

  “I am never smug.”

  “Hyperion says otherwise.”

  “Hyperion…well, you know the torturous extent of Hyperion’s foibles and do not require me to remind you of them. What accolades am I due?”

  “You were correct—in all but the tiniest of details, correct about everything. Most of all, you were correct about the Humans. They grow stronger from the overcoming of adversity. More remarkably, they grow better from it. They wield ingenuity and creativity to a degree the Anadens have not displayed in cosmic ages, and they use these talents to protect those weaker than them. They win the day and defeat an enemy all have cowered before for millennia, and now, rather than claim the crown they have earned, they beg to relinquish power and hand it over to the masses.”

  “They are not without flaws.”

  “Oh, now you express qualms?”

  “Now I can afford to.”

  Lakhes rippled in
a display of amusement. “Indeed. Certainly they are not without flaws, but who among us is? The central point of my speech is that we should have listened to you more fully and sooner. It is only because you held true to your convictions in the face of the full Conclave arrayed against you that we are here today to have this conversation.”

  I fluttered in the brief weakness of pride, but swiftly quelled it. “Yes, about being here today.”

  “Oh?”

  “There is a task I need to perform. It aligns well with our own goals, and in this respect I will be serving the Idryma. But it will take me away from here, and it will take some time.”

  “How much time? Centuries?”

  “Oh, I do hope not. A breath of time on the grand scale of the universe. It is merely that each such breath has been most tumultuous and exigent of late, so I feel the seconds tick by more acutely than usual. Whether it will take weeks, months or years, I do not know, but I need to see it through to the end. Though Alexis has requested this task of me, I feel a personal compulsion to perform it in any case. I owe this to her, but above all I owe it to Caleb.”

  “We all owe both a personal and a collective debt to him—his sacrifice saved our aeons of work. Saved us, and transformed the universe.” Lakhes swirled in contemplation. “Allow the members of the Idryma to lessen your burden, Mnemosyne, and in doing so perhaps repay a small portion of this debt.”

  I stilled. “You would do this? Not for me, but for him? What about the lengthy list of imperative duties now set before the Idryma?”

  “Duties which only exist to be performed because of his sacrifice. We will honor it first and most highly.”

  “And reveal your own honor in doing so. Thank you, dear friend.”

  “And to you. May fortune guide our endeavors.”

  It took little time to gather the analystae and convey the necessary instructions. All were given the choice of whether to join in the quest; none declined. As evening set in the shadow of a nearby sun, the Katasketousya swept outward from the halls of the Idryma in a sea of white-blue iridescence to sail across the stars.

  52

  HIRLAS

  NARAIDA/VOLUCRI HOMEWORLD

  PEGASUS DWARF GALAXY

  LGG REGION VI

  * * *

  EREN MADE HIS WAY ALONG the elevated path the attendant had directed him to with a light but slightly nervous step.

  He always forgot what a marvel Hirlas was when he hadn’t visited in a while, but it was a marvel. Modern technology wound through the limbs and trunks of the jungle with such subtlety as to become all but invisible behind the natural landscape. But it was there. The Naraida, with help from their Volucri co-citizens and their Novoloume benefactors, had perfected the balance of technology and nature. They lived in harmony with both in equal measure.

  It was a damn near idyllic setting—or perhaps the high nitrogen content of the air was making him loopy. His cybernetics could process and dispose of the extra nitrogen without much difficulty, but it did produce a bit of a buzz.

  Anyway…what had he been thinking? Oh, how he was glad wanderlust had driven the Naraida to the stars despite them living on a halcyonian homeworld.

  The path veered to circle the breadth of the trunk of a cedrus tree then opened up into a wide terrace, which stretched across an open expanse to another copse of trees in the distance. Beneath it lay a meadow of laurel.

  Cosime sat on the left span of the terrace, legs dangling off the edge to dance idly in the air. A gauzy creme tank exposed what should have been a nasty scar along her left shoulder, but she’d already transformed it into a tattoo of a shooting star. Her hair was trimmed short on the left side to blend with the section that had been shaved during the many medical procedures she’d undergone, but it hung longer than usual on the right side. The high sun reflected off it to create a pearling effect across her uninjured shoulder and down her back.

  He smiled to himself as he approached. “If you jump, I’m turning around and going back to Tarach.”

  Her head pivoted toward him, and she flashed him a big grin. Damn. “Bullshite. You’ll catch me.”

  He laughed. “Probably so. I’m a sucker that way.” He sat down beside her and tried out swinging his legs off the edge of the terrace. “How do you feel? The attendant said they could hardly get you to come inside for rehab.”

  “I rehab out here, in my own way. I’m good. I’ll be ready for new missions in no time.”

  “You don’t have to be—I mean there don’t have to be any new missions. We won.”

  “Yeah, I heard that. Believe it when I see it. Likely not even then. You can’t just snap your fingers and poof! Peace.”

  “Maybe not. But the Directorate is history, as are the Primors. The integrals are being reworked, or falling apart entirely. That part’s kind of a mess. The Humans are trying to form an inter-species skeleton government until something more permanent can be developed. Also, the Humans are here—all of them. Some other species, too, ones the Kats had been hiding. I don’t know whether we can count on a lasting peace, but I do know everything has changed, and in mostly positive ways. It’s a start.”

  “Huh.” Her expression suggested she still wasn’t buying it.

  It was hard to believe until you’d walked the halls of Anaden buildings without fear, then seen exotic, decidedly un-Accepted aliens doing the same. He let it drop for now. “Where’s Felzeor? Is he recovering okay?”

  She pointed up, toward the broad limbs interwoven above them. “Napping. He’s improving. He can’t fly for more than a few minutes at a time, but he can fly. He’s pushing himself too hard, naturally, but he’ll come out of this stronger than ever.”

  “I’m glad. Have you told him about Caleb?”

  “Not yet. There will be time for it later, once his body’s healed.” She picked a tiny leaf off her shirt and flicked it into the air. “Thanks for coming by to check on me, but I imagine there’s a lot of excitement you need to get back to. How long are you staying?”

  He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “For as long as you’ll allow me.”

  Her gaze darted up to meet his. “What?”

  “I’d like to stay.”

  “It’s boring here. There’s nothing to do except frolic in the trees or lie in the sun.”

  “With you? That’s not boring.” He brought a hand up to cup her cheek. The pad of his thumb gently ran across her soft skin and over her lips. “What do you say? Will you have me?”

  Her eyes blinked, widened, then narrowed. “No one ‘has’ you, Eren. You’re too impetuous to be caged.”

  “Well, I’m choosing to be ‘had,’ which means it’s not a cage. I’ve chased my demons to ground, and while they’ll never be completely buried, I think I’ve got them whipped into submission fairly well. Chained and gagged in a secure location, as it were.

  “I want to be happy, and I want to be happy with you. I love you, and I was thinking maybe one day, if I’m really good, as well as extra charming and funny, you could love me a little, too.”

  She smiled, and her pale skin brightened to rose. “My dear, sweet, mad, not-so-broken Eren. I’ve always loved you. But you had to stop hating yourself before you’d be ready to see it.”

  “Even after everything—”

  “Especially after everything.”

  “But what about—”

  She shifted her weight to shove him onto his back, slung a leg over his waist and brought her lips to his. For a waif, her kiss packed surprising ferocity.

  This was going to be fun, no doubt about it. He briefly drew back from the kiss to meet her mischievous gaze with his own…

  …but why were four green eyes staring down at him? He tucked her curtain of hair behind her ear to reveal chocolate and apricot feathers fluttering upon her shoulder. “Felzeor?”

  A beak dipped down between them as the Volucri peered curiously at Cosime, then at him. “Hi, Eren! What are you two doing?”

  53

  SIYA
NE

  PRESIDIO

  MILKY WAY SECTOR 9

  * * *

  THE WARSHIP ASSEMBLY LINES BUSTLED with activity in a halo around the Presidio. The war may be over, but the number and variety of potential threats had just exploded, and a capable defense force would be needed now more than ever.

  The docking ring encircling the central module of the multi-tiered station was nearly full; it was good she’d reserved a slot ahead of time.

  Pinchu leaned forward, closer to the viewport, as they slowed on approach. His large frame dwarfed Caleb’s cockpit chair, and he’d adopted an awkward half-sideways pose to allow his tail to hang free. “I have never seen anything such as this in all my days. Alex-Human, your people’s monuments are even more extraordinary than promised.”

  “Hopefully not only our ships and space stations. But to be honest, I reacted the same way the first time I saw this place. It’s an impressive piece of engineering.”

  “Indeed. Such astonishing technology and purpose set to the means of waging war, yet you insist you are not a warring species.”

  Alex regarded the Tokahe Naataan thoughtfully. Due to their high level of technological development relative to most species in the Mosaic, the Khokteh had been among the first species located by the Kats in the aftermath of The Displacement, as the media had taken to calling it. The Kats’ arrival on Ireltse had reportedly made for an uncomfortable meeting, with Analystae Iapetus having to explain to Pinchu and the other leaders what had transpired, where their planets had been and where they were now. Probably would have been a lot more than uncomfortable, though, if not for the Khokteh’s prior contact with Alex and Caleb.

  “I said we ‘try’ not to be a warring species. Conflict is in our nature, and we damn sure fight to defend ourselves and those who need our protection. But we strive to ensure our society is fundamentally peaceful, and to resolve conflicts among ourselves without too much bloodshed. We don’t always succeed, but we try.

  “Of course, we’re no longer the only players on the universal field.” She offered him a weak smile. “That’s why I wanted to bring you in early. You deserve a seat at the table when the new rules are written.”