Aurora Renegades

by G. S. Jennsen

  “This is Pandora. Artificials aren’t illegal here, much as Earth might want for them to be. And neither am I.”

  “You think a flimsy thing like political boundaries will protect you? You think you’re safe here?”

  “I think I’m safe everywhere.”

  “How dare you be arrogant! How dare you—”

  Faith put a hand on his arm. “This isn’t the place to cause a scene.”

  “I decide what is and isn’t the place. This freak needs to learn some respect, then he needs to die.”

  A bouncer appeared at their table, as if by chance. Funny, that. “Is there any trouble here?”

  Devon adopted a fearful expression. “Yes, sir. This person threatened my life.”

  The bouncer scowled at Devon. “Son, did you ever think it may not be the best idea to flash those eyes in a place like this?”

  “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t realize.”

  “The hell you didn’t—”

  “As for you four, out. Now. Everybody here except you is just trying to have a good time, and violence does not encourage having a good time.”

  “But—”

  The bouncer towered over Devon’s adversary. “Out, before I see you out.”

  Faith grabbed the man’s arm and tugged him away. “Come on. We have bigger things to concentrate on.”

  Did they, now? Devon gave the bouncer an ingratiating smile. “Thank you, sir. I’ll see about getting some shadewraps, if I can find some which will let me see in a place as dark as this.”

  “Good idea. You need to be careful, with things the way they are.”

  With things the way they are. Such a loaded, foreboding statement, but he’d brood over it later.

  He turned to find Pablo shaking his head. “I should’ve known when Noah vouched for you that you were sure to be more trouble than you were worth.”

  “Come on, Pablo. You understand the danger OTS poses, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, yeah. They’re a nasty bunch of pendejos with weapons. Shit, this is going to get ugly no matter what, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it is. Give me a minute? I need to take care of something. I’ll be back.”

  Pablo groaned but waved him off, absolving himself of responsibility for whatever followed.

  Devon.

  I know what I’m doing.

  Do not get me killed. It is not in my ten-year life plan.

  Not to worry, it’s not in mine either.

  He strolled through the crowd—it was swelling as the hour grew later—and eased out the door. He looked left, then right, and picked up four infrared signatures.

  He headed to the right.

  “Something told me you’d be stupid enough to follow us.” It was the leader’s voice, but it didn’t come from the closest body.

  A meatier hand attached to a bulkier arm reached out from the shadows to grab his arm. The next instant Devon’s hand was wrapped around the guy’s throat; he jerked and spasmed as electrical current coursed through him. After several seconds he went limp, and Devon let him drop to the ground.

  “He’ll live, but he’ll need a few replacement cybernetic parts. And a new eVi. Anyone else?”

  The leader drew a Daemon and shot Devon in the chest. Devon merely glared at the man as his recently upgraded, custom shield easily dispersed the energy. “Please. You will have to do much better than that. You could try blowing up my apartment building—that’s the kind of destruction you cowards excel at, isn’t it?”

  He sensed the attack from behind two hundred forty-seven milliseconds—an eternity—before it came and ducked beneath the swing from the other male lackey.

  He grabbed a shoulder as the guy faltered forward, delivering a solid jolt of electricity as he shoved him to the ground. “Don’t do that again.”

  “Dammit, J—” Faith cut herself off. “Your mother will murder you and me if you die in an alley on Pandora. Remember the damn mission.”

  The response came through gritted teeth. “The mission is the elimination of monsters like him.”

  “Yes, preferably without them eliminating you.”

  Devon and the leader had stared at one another throughout the exchange, but the man had positioned himself between Devon and the busy thoroughfare beyond—too close to potential witnesses, too far for Devon to reach him.

  Now the man blinked and reluctantly nodded. He and Faith cautiously backed toward the street.

  Before they turned to disappear, he stopped to sneer at Devon. “Humanity will not tolerate your existence for long. We won’t let you rule us. You’ll see.” Then they rounded the corner and slinked away.

  If you try to follow them, I will incapacitate you here and now.

  I’m not…. He rolled his eyes and went inside.

  Besides, we now know several things we didn’t know before tonight. We know one of the leaders of OTS, if not the leader, is a young man and indeed notably wealthy. His first name starts with a ‘J’ or ‘G,’ and he’s a sycophant to his mother—who, given the money angle, is probably someone of repute. Also, he’s from or was educated in Europe on Earth. And most importantly, we know what he looks like.

  Annie sighed in his head. I suppose we do know those things. It would be enough to begin a cross-referencing analysis if I had access to my databases, but I do not. Shall I send the information to Richard Navick?

  Nah, I’ll tell him in the morning. Or his morning, which I guess is in around four hours. I want to see how he’s doing anyway.

  He eased onto the stool beside Pablo once more and smiled blithely. “I think I’ll grab another beer. You in?”

  21

  ANESI ARCH

  Pandora Stellar System

  * * *

  Miriam met Richard at the door to the suite she’d rented. His broad smile and warm hug were so welcome. She’d missed him.

  He drew back but kept his hands on her shoulders. “It is beyond good to see you.”

  “You’ve no idea. How are you?”

  “I’m…things are a mess again, you know.”

  She scrutinized him more closely. She thought he’d settled into his new job, relatively speaking, but now dark circles and deep lines around his eyes weighed down his features. He appeared more troubled than the last time she’d seen him.

  “I do. But you’re okay?”

  “I am. Most of the time.”

  “And Will?”

  “Glad to have me with him, if currently somewhat angry at the rest of the galaxy. He’s fine.”

  “I’ll accept the cryptic answers for now, but you are not off the hook. Thank you for coming here so we could meet in person. I’m afraid the things we need to discuss can’t be trusted to even an encrypted comm system.”

  “No, they can’t.”

  His voice had taken on a darker tenor; she gazed at him in increasing suspicion. She’d given him only the slightest indication of why she wanted to meet, but she had given him an indication. “What are you here to discuss?”

  “Not what you expect. I realize you want to talk about Winslow, the new government, OTS and everything else happening at home, but first I need to tell you something. And you’re not going to like it.”

  There was quite the deficit in good news these days, it seemed. “Then let’s get drinks and sit.”

  “Excellent idea.”

  When they’d moved to the chairs, a small table separating them, he took a long sip of his drink—she hadn’t overlooked the fact he’d mixed it strong—and stared into the glass.

  “Richard, we’ve known each other for forty-four years. Whatever it is, just say it.”

  He exhaled slowly and set the drink down. “It’s regarding the First Crux War—more specifically, the day it began and how it did so.”

  Miriam stood at the window, hands clasped in a vice-grip at the small of her back, eyes shut to the stars outside.

  They killed their own civilians. Murdered seventeen people in cold blood, and in so doing manipulated us into a war that
killed hundreds of thousands.

  Richard’s voice came from somewhere behind her and off to her left. “There’s essentially zero chance Caleb knows. He didn’t know his father had been a Division agent until after they returned from the portal space late last year. He learned of his father’s past directly from Graham, and Graham was ignorant of this mission until now.”

  “It wouldn’t reflect on him if he did. Children should not be made to bear the sins of their parents.” Her voice came out pinched and taut from the strain of keeping control.

  She’d meant the words, for what meager amount they mattered. Even at her angriest she wasn’t vindictive enough to try to make this about Caleb.

  “No. But he doesn’t know. This is the Federation’s single most closely guarded secret.”

  Breathe in through your nose. Hold. Out through your mouth. “Little wonder.”

  “You don’t have to play stoic with me, Miriam.”

  She opened her eyes and glanced over, surprised to discover he now stood beside her. “And I appreciate that. But if I lose control now, I might not get it back again.”

  “They believe they had their reasons, but I’m not sure—”

  “Oh, I understand their reasons perfectly well. It was a brilliant strategy which put the Alliance on the defensive from the first hour. Distracted the politicians, muddled the objectives. I remember those early weeks of the war. It was a chaos of confusion, shouted accusations and blame shaming. Honestly, if it had gone any other way, we very well could have stamped out the rebellion inside a month.” And David would not have died.

  He regarded her in slight surprise and significant curiosity. “Would you have done it? If it was the only chance to win a war?”

  “No—and they did it to start a war they could win, an important distinction. But I knew others who would have. Breveski, Giehl. Slippery beast, morality in war.”

  “No kidding.” He dropped his chin to his chest. “Talking about this leaves me sick to my stomach. I thought long and hard about leaving Division. But…Graham wasn’t involved, and…we have to take the world as we find it. With the state of things, I suspect I can do the most good on Seneca. Given I can do zero good on Earth.”

  She nodded jerkily; he wasn’t wrong. “Yet Chairman Vranas was involved. Eleni was involved. Not merely involved—at the center of it. I trusted her. I confided in her. I called her a friend….”

  Her voice nearly broke. Control. “And it feels like she may as well have been David’s murderer.”

  “She wasn’t. More than two years and countless decisions on both sides separate the events.” He shook his head sluggishly, as if searching for better platitudes. “It was twenty-six years ago. People change, grow wiser. They learn from their mistakes.”

  “Of course they do. Strangely, that doesn’t so much help right now.”

  “I agree.” His shoulders dropped. “Look, there’s really nothing else to be said. It is what it is. You had to know—I couldn’t live with myself if I kept it from you—but we should probably focus on the crisis at hand.”

  She gave him a tight grimace. “I’m afraid I’m a bit peckish. Would you mind terribly seeing about having some dinner delivered?”

  “Not at all.” He squeezed her shoulder and left, understanding what she meant was that she needed a few minutes alone.

  She moved to one of the chairs and sat down, then dropped her elbows to her knees and her head into her hands.

  She should turn around and go back to Vancouver. Find another way. There were limits to even deals with the devil, lines which should never be crossed.

  Curse Pamela Winslow and her cabal for forcing Miriam to cross them all.

  It wasn’t fair.

  She’d always interpreted ‘unfair’ as meaning a challenge existed to surmount, and considered those who used it as an excuse to be indolent, over-entitled or simply cowards.

  Maybe she was now all those things…but dammit, it was not fair that she be put in such a position.

  “Did you ever consider doing anything with your life other than serving in the military?”

  Miriam studied David over the rim of her glass of Cabernet. “Not seriously, no.”

  “Your father’s influence?”

  She laughed lightly. “You’d think, wouldn’t you? And possibly at first, in the margins, though he was far likelier to have driven me away from the military than to it. No, I’ve always felt called to military service. It displays the characteristics I admire: it embodies structure and order. There are rules and clear direction and a chain of command which must be respected without question. The institution is a rock. It signifies certainty and security, for those it serves and those who serve it.”

  Her mouth clamped shut. Why was she so eager to be honest with him, to spill her innermost dreams and desires in response to his casual questions? People called her taciturn for a reason, but when David Solovy was in the room, reason was nowhere to be found.

  He retrieved the bottle and refilled her glass. “Yet you don’t seem to have any qualms about giving orders instead of taking them.”

  “I’m complicated.”

  “Oh, of that I have no doubt.”

  “I’m still taking them as well as giving them, but no, I don’t have any qualms about leading. I earned the right to give orders—for now here at this small outpost on Perona. Later, perhaps elsewhere, to a greater number of soldiers. But I earned the right operating within the system I respect, and it’s teaching me what I need to know to be a worthy leader.”

  “You’re delightful.”

  Her glass landed on the table with a clang. “I was not trying to be—” Her eyes narrowed as her chin notched up. “Are you patronizing me, Captain Solovy?”

  His face, always so expressive and alive with personality and verve, looked vaguely panicked. “No. No, I would never. Please, forgive me, dorogaya.”

  She blinked in surprise at his use of an endearment—this was only their third date, for heaven’s sake—but he resumed talking before she could protest. “You are delightful, truly. I admire your outlook. It’s refreshing.”

  He was not getting off so easily. “But?”

  He huffed a breath. “But the universe is not ordered, and it will not become so simply because one wishes it. The universe is chaos made manifest. The military does a fine job of creating an illusion of structure, of dependable rules to provide an answer for every situation. But it is only an illusion, one which on its best days holds the volneniya at bay.”

  She took a sip of wine to buy her time to consider her response, and to internalize the fact that the way he peppered conversations with colorful Russian interjections was rather enchanting.

  “If you genuinely believe that, then why are you here? Why join the military, and why stay after your service commitment was fulfilled?”

  He cocked an eyebrow like some kind of lothario. She despised lotharios, which did nothing to quell the fluttering in her chest. “To get to be the hero. Turns out I’m better at being the hero than I am at most other things.”

  “That’s a terrible answer.”

  “You never stop, do you?”

  She thought she might be smiling, just a touch. “I don’t know how to.”

  “Indeed. Why am I here, in the military? Because even the chaos needs someone willing to stand in the center of it and say ‘enough ’ ”

  David had been right all along, but not until she rose to the pinnacle of military power—where no one remained to create it but her—was she able to see through the illusion.

  Now here she stood, terrifyingly free of all structure, unmoored from any rules to guide her. She stood alone, with only her own moral compass to tell her how to move forward when there were none but awful choices to be made.

  Allow amoral, power-hungry zealots to lower an iron fist on thousands of innocents, many of them little more than children, killing or imprisoning them for daring to be at the vanguard of technological progress?

  Or de
fy the government she’d devoted her life to serving, ally herself with a murderer and commit treason under any reading of the law?

  I am so, so sorry, David. How many times must she apologize to him, if solely in her mind? How many times could she expect the ghost of his conscience to forgive her?

  I will always forgive you, dushen’ka, because I know you will always do what you believe to be right.

  It was nothing but a memory whispering in her mind…and it would have to do.

  Now it was time for her to be the one to stand in the center of the chaos and say ‘enough.’

  When Richard returned, she had splashed water on her face, re-braided her hair and poured herself another drink. She ignored the food he placed on the center table, instead clasping her hands together in her lap and meeting his questioning gaze.

  “Here’s what I need you to do for me.”

  SENECA

  Cavare

  Senecan Federation Military Headquarters

  The adiamene manufacturing plant now operated at full capacity. Assembly of the shipyard above the newly declared colony of Murat was complete and construction on a new class of ships had begun. These were good things.

  Strife and discord appeared to be the default state of civilization, however. This was a less good thing, but Eleni Gianno could not change it.

  What she could do was not only be prepared for it, but be more prepared for it than other interested parties. In so doing, the people she protected were better able to thrive in times of peace and survive in times of war.

  The new Independent Defense Consortium of Colonies didn’t concern her. Even if it did not become an ally, a three-legged stool was a far more stable configuration than a two-legged one. She didn’t expect the independent group to be aggressive—not for years anyway—and it would provide an additional check on the Alliance, which was threatening to become aggressive again.

  The fact Morgan Lekkas led its armed contingent…actually gave her some comfort. It enabled her to keep an eye on Lekkas, and it provided the young woman an outlet into which she could direct her considerable energies.