“Hold on a second.” He went back inside, grabbed his jacket and quickly returned. Then he steadied the bottle with one hand and leaned on the railing to face Richard. “Bad day?”
Richard gave a low, rumbling chuckle and took a long sip from an almost empty glass. “Nah. You had one though, didn’t you? Tell me about your bad day.”
“Why don’t you tell me about yours first.”
Richard blinked hard but still didn’t meet his gaze. “If you insist. I got fired. Now about your day—”
“What? Why?”
“Don’t make me say it, please.”
“What…it wasn’t…because of me?” He’d feared it often these last months—the possibility of, peace aside, the wrong bureaucrats finding out his history and amorphous allegiances. Miriam had looked the other way, and Director Delavasi had assured him no one in the Alliance knew that, until very recently, his true employer was the Senecan Federation Division of Intelligence. But someone always knew.
Richard finally looked him in the eye, and it was all the answer he needed. He inhaled sharply. “I’m going to get a glass.”
It took them both finishing off a second glass of the bourbon before either spoke another word. Will had stood in the kitchen, hands on the counter and head hanging, for at least five minutes, confident Richard was too drunk to notice the passage of time. He might have hyperventilated—hence the five minutes—but wrangled it under control before he made it back out to the porch, poured a glass straight up to the rim and fell into the other chair.
“How?” The bourbon burned hot down his throat while he waited on an answer.
“ ‘Protected source.’ Graham’s got himself a double agent.”
“Yeah.” The word propelled itself outward on a ragged, broken breath. The days between when he’d exposed his deepest secret and when Richard miraculously appeared at the door to his hotel room had been the worst of his life, no question. Surviving them to an outcome he’d never dared hope was possible, then everyone he cared for surviving the Metigen invasion, had led to the best days of his life.
But this…it was a lesson his father had imparted long ago, and one of the few he’d remembered in the aftermath of the accident that killed his parents when he was teenager: choices have consequences. Whether the next day, year or decade, they will catch up to you.
There were so many choices, with so many consequences.
He refilled his glass, and at Richard’s outstretched arm refilled his as well. “Is it too late for you to disavow me? Say you didn’t know, curse my name, pledge my death, whatever it takes?”
“Probably not—I mean I mostly stood there staring blankly, so maybe? But I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Why not?” Richard growled, gutturally and far more fiercely than was his nature. “Aside from the obvious? After the war, after the damn apocalypse, after everything? I find I don’t have the patience for the bullshit I once did. I think I’m finally seeing the world the way David Solovy did. Those bureaucrats huddled in their bunkers while we saved the galaxy, and now they want to tell me I can’t do the job I’ve done damn well for eighteen years because of some regulation? They simply can’t wrap their tiny little minds around the idea that Seneca is no longer our enemy.”
For a moment Will got caught up in the righteous indignation. “I think they simply can’t accept Seneca not being the enemy.”
“Exactly….” Richard’s brow furrowed. “What?”
“See, they aren’t willing to…never mind….” He’d always been a cheaper drunk than Richard. “I am so, so sorry. I know what the Alliance, what your service, means to you. You should have left me in that hotel room.”
“No. No, I shouldn’t have.” Richard’s head shook with fervor to underscore the point. “I just…I don’t have the slightest idea what I’m going to do now.”
Will leaned forward in the chair, jolted by a surge of animated energy. “Let’s go to Seneca. The company will be secure in the hands of my COO. I was a decent admin for Delavasi in the short time I was there, and he’d kill to have you. He lost Oberti and five other agents to the Aguirre Conspiracy. He lost Volosk, then he lost Marano. He’s putting on a good act, but I know he’s still scrambling.”
“You know, do you?” Richard made a face and reached for the bottle.
“I only mean…I’m not…ah, hell. You talk to him more often than I do, dammit. Am I right?” Such a cheap drunk.
Richard nodded in an exaggerated motion. “You are. But I can’t…Will, I can’t. If I’m not an Alliance officer, what am I?”
“You’re a good man, and a patriot—a patriot for humanity.” In the harsh light of day it might have sounded a touch pretentious. But here on the back porch of their home with a soon-to-be empty bottle of bourbon, it sounded just about right.
9
EARTH
Vancouver: EASC Headquarters (Medical)
* * *
Mia rolled her eyes at the ceiling of her hospital room. “17,455,684. The cube is 72,929,847,752. I was born Mialahsa Shiori Requelme on May 3, 2291, in Putanzhou, New Orient. My brother’s name is—or possibly was—Ryu. The most profitable showcase at my art gallery last year was an Antonio Castile Lesenna feature. I despise artichokes and adore olives, especially if they’re soaked in gin. Muon particles have a half-integer spin and an electric charge of -1e. In other words: I’m fine, and Meno’s fine. Operating according to specs, the both of us.”
Dr. Canivon appeared unimpressed, evaluating her with clinical aloofness. “You make a convincing case. However, it may take some time for latent glitches or errors to manifest, so we’ll continue observing you for now.”
“Observing me from here? As in I still can’t leave?”
“Ms. Requelme, you’ve been awake for less than two days. You should take things slow—you’ve been through quite a trauma.”
“From my perspective I’ve been asleep in a bed for seven months. Nothing traumatic about that.”
Abigail merely regarded her calmly, but Mia cringed. Admittedly, she was being petulant. “Doctor, I truly do appreciate everything you’ve done for me—more than I can ever express. I just feel as if the world is leaving me behind every second I stay cooped up in here.”
“I assure you—thanks in no small part to you and Meno—the world will still be there for you to enjoy when we release you.” The woman’s head tilted slightly. “Someone is here to see you. Perhaps a visit from a friend will help alleviate your boredom.”
She had few friends on Earth. Also, her return to the land of the living wasn’t public knowledge. “Who is it?”
“Someone who’s received clearance to be here.” Abigail gave her a cryptic look and departed.
When Mia saw who walked through the door, she pushed herself forcefully off the side of the bed, winced at the protest in her calves when her feet landed on the floor, and allowed herself to be scooped up into Noah Terrage’s arms.
“You scared us to death, Mia.” He kissed her chastely on the forehead and set her down, then reached out to flip the tips of her barely chin-length hair. “I like it.”
She groaned and gestured him over to the table in the corner by the window. “Meno has my eVi overstimulating the follicles to grow it out as fast as possible. Please tell me you didn’t see me when I was bald.”
“I did. Not going to lie, it was weird. But I found a way to cope.”
She eased herself down into the chair, making a marginal effort to respect her body’s complaints. “Are you still on Earth? I assume you didn’t bolt here from Pandora instantly on hearing of my revival.”
His chin dropped in a mocking pout. “I’m offended you think I wouldn’t.”
“Yet you didn’t answer the question.”
“Not far—I’m on Erisen. But I was on Earth today, so it worked out.”
“Erisen? Ms. Rossi, then?”
He shrugged a little sheepishly. “Yeah.”
“You didn’t get married
, too, did you?”
“No, we have not. We are happy with non-marriage for now, and likely for a very long time or forever. Oh, but that reminds me….” He fished in his pants pocket and produced a tiny disk in a slim case. “Caleb left a message for you. We didn’t know if or when your eVi would function again, and he didn’t want to send it into the messaging system to waste away.”
“Thanks.” She took the disk and set it aside; she’d review it once she was alone. “So what’s going on with you? I feel very out of the loop.”
He kicked back in the chair, stretched out his legs and crossed his ankles. “Kennedy and I have started our own ship design company. We want to use the opportunities adiamene and the new advances in quantum computing are opening up to re-imagine what ships can be, instead of just tacking on a stronger hull and a faster computer to existing models.”
“Damn. You’ve finally gone straight. Don’t get me wrong, it sounds like a terrific venture. But I never thought I’d see the day you were a respectable, upstanding businessman.”
“I’ll have you know I am neither respectable nor upstanding.” He grimaced. “I am having lunch with my father about once a month, though. That’s, um, what I was doing on Earth today.”
“Wow. How’s that going?”
“I haven’t cold-cocked him yet, so…not terrible? He’s still a jackass, but he is finally starting to talk to me, open up a little.” He frowned. “And not everything he’s sharing is good news. Listen, Mia, it’s getting weird out there. It’s as if we’ve all been holding our breaths since the end of the Metigen War, afraid if we exhaled it would turn out we hadn’t won after all. But now, people are exhaling, and things are changing—not all for the better.”
He checked over his shoulder, confirming the door was closed, then leaned in close across the table. “I’m not on the inside, not as such, but the mood here on Earth is tense. The public hasn’t found out about you guys yet, but a lot of people suspect we used some new kind of Artificial to win the war. It’s only a matter of time before the secret leaks out. People are paranoid, and the government’s getting jittery.
“There’s even this pseudo-terrorist group, calls itself the ‘Order of the True Sentients’—which I guess is supposed to mean humans—blowing shit up and calling for the destruction of all Artificials. I’d be careful, if I were you. And it seems to be worse on Earth so…maybe get back to Romane when you can. Maybe kind of soon.”
She nodded to indicate she understood, but didn’t otherwise respond. It was a lot to take in, but also lacking in specifics. Meno, plumb Annie’s databanks and collate me a report on the Order of the True Sentients. I’ll review it tonight.
After a few seconds of lingering silence Noah winked at her and relaxed. “But I’m probably full of it.”
“You usually are.”
“Yep. I’ve got to run, but if you need anything while you’re here, shout—and let me know where you end up?”
“Will do.” She stood and hugged him. “Good luck with your upstanding business venture. I’m proud of you.”
He moaned and clutched at his chest. “You wound me….” Then he smiled and moved toward the door. “Glad to have you back with us.”
When he had gone, she took the crystal disk out of the case and rolled it around in her palm. If she knew Caleb, which she did, he would’ve beaten himself up mightily over her getting injured after he had been the one to bring her into Noetica. Hopefully not for too long. It had been her choice—something Alex would know and undoubtedly tell him—and she didn’t regret it. Even if the morning-after hangover was proving a bit harsh.
Devon burst into the room, and she pocketed the disk. He grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the door. “Come on.”
She stared at him quizzically. “Where are we going? I’m not certain I’m allowed to leave this floor.”
“I got permission to take you on a field trip. It’s time to play.”
EASC Headquarters (Special Projects)
They stood in the center of the sim room at Special Projects. Mia gazed at the blank, translucent walls. “What are we doing?”
Devon stepped forward until he was close enough for her to touch. His voice was low. “The Noesis space we showed you when you woke up? That’s not all it can do, not by a long shot—otherwise it would be no better than a shared illusoire.”
“You mentioned something about being able to overlay it atop the physical world.”
“It was an oversimplification. We didn’t want to overwhelm you.” He took another step toward her. “Here’s the thing: the space is real. It exists in our universe as an additional dimension.”
“That’s ridiculous. Scientists would have detected it.”
“And they have, more or less. As I said at the beach, it’s the space where quantum mechanics operate—the space where qubits hold all their possible values and where waves are particles and particles are waves. It’s a space of probabilities, unmeasured.”
“Unmeasured except by us?”
“Exactly!” He winced and hurriedly reined in the explosion of enthusiasm.
“Assume for the sake of argument I believe you. What does that mean?”
He flashed her a wacky grin. “It means we can go anywhere with a thought. And we don’t need to be in the sim room to do it, but I decided it would be simpler to start here.”
“ ‘Go?’ ”
“With our minds, not physically. At least not so far—and trust me, I’ve tried. But as part of our connection to the Artificials, we can sort of…surf the space, the brane, whatever you want to call it. For all intents and purposes it’s a fourth dimension existing within our three physical dimensions. But it doesn’t have distance the way physical dimensions do, so it’s a matter of…peeking out through it at a different location.”
At her skeptical expression, he sighed. “It’ll be easier if I show you. Come with me.”
She had barely begun to form the thought of not having any idea how to do that when Meno had performed the action for her.
They weren’t at the beach this time; they weren’t anywhere at all, in fact, except exactly where they already were: the sim room. But the air and the walls had taken on a glistening, fluid appearance.
Devon again grasped her hand. “Now watch this. We’ll start somewhere close and familiar…your hospital room.”
There was no visual sign of movement, but she felt the motion in a queasiness in her stomach. The air around them simply shifted, and they were in her hospital room. A med tech was changing the sheets.
The queasiness graduated to full-on nausea, a visceral response to the impossible reshaping of the space around her. She concentrated on breathing through her nose, while not entirely sure in which location her nose resided.
“Can she see us?”
“Nope.”
Devon’s voice was now disembodied and in her head. She looked for him, and lurched from the abrupt dizziness the act triggered. The corners of her vision faded to a gossamer sheen; only what was directly in front of her was clear and crisp, almost like a shallow depth-of-field image. He wasn’t there.
“You all right?”
“I think so. Now I know to move slower.”
“You get used to it, but yes, slower may be a good idea. Go ahead and walk out into the hall.”
She turned in her mind—she looked down to confirm, but as she’d expected she had no body, no physical presence here—and drifted forward. Out into the hall…into another room…past the techs’ station. Two military doctors were talking beside the lift. She fixated on them and when she drew close enough, she could hear their conversation as distinctly as if she were standing in the hall having it with them.
The implications were mind-boggling, but a far more personal one leapt to mind.
“I want to see my home. How do I get there?”
“On Romane? The Artificials understand what we mean by “Romane”—by any address designation. So think of Romane and your street address wit
h a sort of focused purpose.”
A nanosecond instant of blurred whiteness, and she was on the street outside her house—or rather, where her house should have been. It had been blown up, though, and in the intervening months the wreckage had been cleared away, leaving only an empty lot.
A leaden sickness filled her gut. This was the first place she had ever really settled, ever really allowed to feel like a home. And now it was gone.
We’ll make a new home, Mia. Wherever we want.
You’re right, Meno. We will.
“Devon, are you here?”
“No. You, uh, didn’t tell me the address.”
“Right. Sorry. What if I want to go someplace that doesn’t have an address?”
“Like an unsettled planet? We can access the Galactic Coordinate System, so you need to ‘find’ it on the map.”
Hmm. New Orient had an interesting moon, or so she recalled from her childhood. It had resembled dimpled pistachio pudding to her child’s eyes, though she now knew the color was due to an olivine-rich basalt surface. A thought and Meno found its location—then she was there.
Panic tugged at the rational part of her brain, which didn’t want to accept the fact that she didn’t need to breathe. There was no atmosphere, and she was protected by no environment suit. But her body was in the sim room; only her consciousness was here hovering above the surface of the little green moon.
The silhouette of New Orient rotated above her, instantly spoiling the moment. God how she’d hated it there.
Return.
A blink and she was standing in the sim room once more. Devon stood beside her. “Good job getting yourself back here.”
Standing in the empty, blank room, the ramifications came rushing to the forefront. “Devon, does anyone other than you, Morgan and Alex know about this?”
“Nope. Abigail suspects we’re experimenting with something, but we told her it was just a trippy new virtual space.”
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