Aurora Renegades

by G. S. Jennsen

  She motioned him over to an area comparatively free of chaos by one of the windows, and those present gradually returned to doing whatever he’d interrupted. “I admit, I did know there was an Earth Alliance ship in orbit—but not who was on it. Morgan has a recon craft pinned to your vessel and two fighters on standby in the wings, by the way. I suppose I…” her brow knotted “…can I call her off?”

  He heard the wariness in her voice and sought to lighten it with a light chuckle. “We come in peace, I promise—peace toward the IDCC. Admiral Solovy learned Alliance covert special forces were involved in the riots and sent us to deal with them. I’m here to request a hand-over of all Alliance military prisoners you have in custody.”

  “They’re facing serious charges here. Why do you want them?”

  “We need to find out what their orders were and who gave them. If Winslow truly is behind it—if she truly is in bed with OTS—we need actionable evidence of it. We need sworn statements, records of orders and anything else we can get from them.”

  When she didn’t respond, he reached out and touched her shoulder gently. “Mia, we’re on your side.”

  “I know. And we’re on your side—well, Admiral Solovy’s side, which I’m sincerely relieved to learn is your side as well.”

  “I couldn’t follow orders calling for the arrest and imprisonment of Prevos simply for being Prevos. Not with what I know to be true.”

  “What is it that you know?”

  She was staring at him quite intently now, and the background noise faded away. “That Prevos aren’t the enemy. You aren’t monsters or abominations. You’re people same as us, only…better.”

  “Some Prevos are the enemy. Montegreu certainly was, but she’s not the only one.”

  Had she taken a step toward him? “I’ve met a lot of bad people, Mia. I can tell the difference.”

  “I’m glad.”

  A loud noise behind him triggered his combat reflexes, and he spun around as his hand went for his weapon…but someone was moving a large crate down the hallway, badly. He exhaled and turned back to her. “Sorry. Habit.”

  “I’ve no doubt. Okay.”

  “Okay what?”

  “Oh, um, the prisoners. We’ll need to draw up some official documentation, but Harper can work with you to effect their transfer to your custody. What about Winslow? The son, I mean.”

  “Better for you to keep him for now. He’s a civilian, and candidly, it’s better optics for him to be under arrest by the Romane government for his crimes than held captive by the prime minister’s personal adversary.”

  “Makes sense. Harper’s down in the armory. Do you remember how to get there?”

  “I do.” He made no move to leave, and a smile began tugging at the corners of her mouth, though she seemed to be fighting it.

  Oh, to hell with it. He cleared his throat and lowered his voice. “Listen, if we make it through this mess alive, and I don’t end up in military prison, and the galaxy calms down for, say, a week or so…is there any chance we could meet for lunch? Just for…well, lunch.”

  Now she definitely took a step toward him. Her fingers wound around his hand. “Colonel Jenner, are you asking me on a date?”

  Alex paused on the sidewalk outside IDCC Headquarters to gaze upward. Both suns were high in the sky, giving it a tinge of mauve and creating prismatic reflections off the glass skyscrapers.

  She inhaled deeply, relishing the suns’ warmth on her face. It was like waking from a dream, stepping into the sunlight.

  The grasp she had on reality was still unreliable. She experienced random, unpredictable flashes where everything faded away and her mind reached for the elemental realm to anchor itself in.

  It took a great deal of concentration to escape those traps, fighting her own mind as it fought itself. Valkyrie tried to help, but the Artificial’s natural existence was closer to the elemental realm than the physical one, and she didn’t necessarily know the way out.

  Caleb squeezed her hand—on the sidewalk, beside her, outside in the sun—and she leaned in close to wind her arm around his. To feel him, the most real object in existence.

  She’d woken up this morning invigorated, convinced she had this little problem beat, dammit. Then while she was showering, out of nowhere a craving hit her so forcefully she would have physically crawled into the walls of the ship if it were possible.

  Caleb was working upstairs, but she called to him, because she’d promised him she would and because she didn’t want to suffer alone. Because she needed him. He’d stripped and climbed into the shower with her without hesitation, wrapped his arms around her and held her while her fingers raked at his chest until she broke down sobbing into his neck.

  So, yes, it seemed she had a distance farther to travel before this trial was behind her. But in those moments in the shower, she’d never felt more cared for in her life.

  Now she flashed him a broad smile. “Come on. Let’s head inside.”

  “Are you sure you’re ready? We can stand out here and bask in the light for hours if you want.”

  His tone was teasing but warm, and she eyed the horizon a bit wistfully. “And I kind of do want to. But events are rapidly leaving us behind, and we cannot allow such a thing to happen.”

  They could hear the chatter overflowing out of Mia’s busy office as soon as they reached the hall, so they cautiously peeked in the doorway.

  There were several people inside, but none more instantly recognizable than Malcolm. He stood talking to Mia by the window. Their heads were huddled close together, their voices low in contrast with those around them.

  And…were they…holding hands?

  Alex’s brow furrowed in genuine perplexity; on checking, she found Caleb wore a similar countenance. “Are we seeing what I think we’re seeing?”

  He opened his mouth, closed it, then huffed a breath. “I think we are.”

  Her lips pursed. “Out of curiosity, when you and Mia stopped dating, or whatever it was you did, who took the initiative to end it?”

  He arched an eyebrow, still looking rather befuddled. “She did, actually.”

  “Oh my god, we’re their castoffs.”

  He sank against the door frame, laughing openly. It was infectious, and she leaned into him and tried to muffle her own laughter in the folds of his shirt.

  How long had it been since she’d heard him laugh this freely? How long had it been since she’d laughed freely? She’d never imagined laughter could be this euphoric, but damned if it wasn’t better than any rave chimeral.

  Eventually their antics caught Malcolm and Mia’s attention. Malcolm’s eyes widened in a flash of horror before he covered it up beneath a soldier’s scowl, and they hurriedly stepped apart.

  Mia plastered on a breezy expression and motioned them in. “Caleb, Alex. I wasn’t expecting you this morning.”

  Alex had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing as Malcolm nodded. “She wasn’t expecting me, either. I’m here to—Alex, your mother sent me to acquire the Alliance infiltrators from the other night. For them. I’m here for them. I heard you two were back from the other side of the portal. Good—I mean that you’re safe and….”

  She could no longer prevent a smirk from breaking across her face.

  Malcolm shot her a withering glare and groaned in resignation. “I’m going to go over here and bang my forehead against the wall for a few minutes. Yell if you need me.”

  She patted him on the shoulder affectionately as he passed, while Caleb stared at Mia in mock astonishment. On second thought, the astonishment was probably legitimate.

  Mia shrugged. “Drop the disapproving older brother routine, Caleb. There’s nothing going on.” Her gaze drifted past Alex to where Malcolm had retreated. “Yet.”

  She blinked deliberately and returned her focus to them. “Moving on. Alex, you look…” Alex sensed the faintest tickle of Mia’s mind at the edges of hers as Mia smiled “…you are better.”

  “I
am. Thank you for retroactively conscripting me and generally smoothing over what could’ve been a khrenovuyu mess. I was, um…thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, but it wasn’t a problem.”

  “So am I completely in the clear? Do I need to worry about this coming back to bite me? I mean, I understand if—”

  “You’re good. You simply did our work for us.”

  Alex closed her eyes for the briefest span and allowed this one weight to lift. A vocal portion of her conscience screamed that she didn’t deserve to escape punishment; another, more nuanced voice muttered that she’d created plenty of punishment for herself she wouldn’t be escaping anytime soon.

  Nonetheless, she’d take the lack of a prison cell in her future as a win.

  Caleb’s hand alighted on the small of her back. “In that case, will you be all right here for a little while? I want to run an errand.”

  He was being overprotective, but it was both sweet and comforting. “I’m good. Go.”

  He leaned in to place a soft kiss on her ear. “Be back soon.”

  She watched him leave, then immediately grabbed Mia by the hand. “Come on, let’s go talk to Malcolm.”

  “What? Why…?”

  He saw them coming and adopted a stiff military stance, for which she gave him an exasperated sigh. “Oh, for the love of everything, relax.”

  “I wasn’t aware I was…fine.” His shoulders dropped in defeat. “How are you?”

  “Not sure. Ask me again in a week. You’ve been with my mother? How is she?”

  “Honestly? On fire. Her determination is contagious and inspiring, to the point military commands and civilian governments are lining up to support her. They lost the Churchill to sabotage at Scythia, though. Most of the crew was able to escape, but a lot of good people didn’t make it. If anything, the loss has emboldened the rank and file.”

  “Rychen?”

  “He made it out, and he is not a happy man.”

  “I’m glad you’re with her. Thank you—I realize you’re not doing it for me, but even so, thank you.”

  “There was never any real question for me as to which side I belonged on. Speaking of, I should move things along here. I’m going to have to catch up with her as it is.”

  “Catch up with her where? I’m afraid I’ve been a little out of the loop the last few days.”

  He hesitated for a split-second before responding. “She’s returning to Earth.”

  “But Winslow’s still in power.”

  “She is. But the Assembly is on the verge of revolt, and they’re begging for your mother’s support. The public is up in arms, and your mother now has most of the military behind her. She thinks it’s time.”

  Alex recalled the final moves of the Metigen War, and the machinations she and the other Prevos had engaged in. “Does Winslow have control of the Earth Terrestrial Defense Grid?”

  “Maybe. She can’t use it without Admiral Grigg’s complicity. He’s been a public supporter of Winslow, but nobody knows what he’ll do if asked to fire on Alliance vessels.”

  “And Mom’s just going to take that chance?”

  Mia spoke up. “Won’t the adiamene hull on her ship hold? It’s effectively indestructible.”

  The dent in the nose of the Siyane caused by the Amaranthe master portal flashed in Alex’s mind. “ ‘Effectively’ isn’t completely, and Earth’s orbital array lasers are the most powerful weapons we’ve ever built.” She frowned. “I need to…would you two excuse me? I’ll let you get back to holding hands.”

  She left them standing there sputtering.

  31

  ROMANE

  Romane Central Detention Facility

  * * *

  Devon sauntered down the row of cells like he was here for an afternoon game of poker.

  He’d taken the time he needed to cool his rage, to temper his grief. And Annie’s grief. A sideways dose of Valkyrie’s grief. He was grateful Vii wasn’t part of the Noesis, for her grief might crush them all.

  But she was not, and today he was calm. Also quite motivated.

  The man he now knew as Jude Winslow, only son of Earth Alliance Prime Minister Pamela Winslow and wealthy financier Frederick Winslow, had the temerity to look upon him with contempt.

  “Abomination. You managed to survive all this messy, ruinous chaos. But I suppose that’s what your kind does, isn’t it? Survive at any cost?”

  “Among other talents.” Devon strolled across the stretch of hallway in front of the cell. Despite the generally overflowing state of Romane’s detention facilities, it was the only occupied cell on this hall. A solitary confinement of sorts. “Your engineered ‘chaos’ doesn’t look so ruinous from where I stand. Well, except for you and your pals.”

  “Come here to kill me, have you? Now that you have me tied up and oh-so helpless?”

  “Yes.”

  He didn’t miss the minuscule flinch in Jude’s muscles. “It was what I told myself I was coming here to do—and make no mistake, asshole, you deserve to die. Thanks to your parentage you probably won’t anytime soon, but boy do you deserve it.”

  Devon’s eyes cut narrowly at the man. “When we met on Pandora, you wanted to kill me, because you were afraid of me—”

  “Bullshit, freak. I wanted to kill you because you have no place among the living.”

  “We are the living, you pretentious psycho. We are more alive than you could ever imagine, and the world is alive around us in ways you could never comprehend.”

  “I knew it. You intend to rule us—make us kneel, then use us as your servants.”

  “Not actually.” Devon scowled. “Why would we do that? We don’t need servants, for one. And how irritating must they be? Always following you around trying to cuff your pants and wipe stains off your collar. Of course, you grew up with servants catering to your every whim, so perhaps you have a different perspective. You assume it’s where we would naturally go, since to you indenturing others represents the height of power and privilege.”

  He abruptly leaned in close to the glass. “Silly. Little. Man.”

  Winslow’s eyes widened, as if he feared Devon may breach the glass.

  Devon leisurely backed away. “See, what you don’t know about Artificials, what you never bothered to learn, is that they love people. They’re enraptured by humanity in all its foibles and missteps and triumphs.

  “What I gained from joining with an Artificial, aside from the oh-my-god-mind-blowing amount of processing power and speed of thought and data—your brain would just melt at the data—was something rather unexpected: a far greater appreciation for the human race than I ever had as one of its members.

  “Prevos will never subjugate humanity, because Artificials see humanity as the best of life. And the worst of life—see Exhibit A, you. But the best of life is what’s important to them, and to us. We’re still human, at least as much as we’re Artificial. Humanity’s future is our future….”

  He forced a pause, chuckling under his breath. Annie might have gotten a mite caught up in the speech-making there.

  Then he notched his chin up. “So, no. Though I would take so damn much pleasure from it after what your people did to Abigail, plus the fact you’re a shockingly annoying prick, I’m not going to kill you. You were wrong that night at Thali’s Lounge, and you’ve been wrong every night since and I’d bet every night before. You think I’m a villain, and you’re wrong. I’m a Prevo, and I respect humanity’s laws. I will allow them to deal with you.

  “I am better than you—not humanity, but specifically better than you—and now, I’m also done with you.”

  Caleb watched the interchange from the farthest corner of the hallway, fully hidden by the Veil device Harper had lent him.

  Devon was a good kid. An exceptional Prevo, and if what Caleb just witnessed was any indication, well on his way to becoming both a moral and formidable man.

  But Devon hadn’t seen the things Caleb had seen. He hadn’t met enough monsters
to recognize a bona fide one when he did meet it.

  Caleb had spent some time reviewing the files on OTS’ nefarious deeds, stretching back to its genesis in the aftershocks of the Metigen War, long before the atrocities which were committed here and on Seneca in recent days.

  He’d seen Jude Winslow’s kind before. The man was a snake in the grass, insidious and rotten to his soul. When coupled with unfettered access to money and power, he was the kind of man who could afford to bide his time until he found a way to evade punishment, then buy his freedom so he could wreak his havoc and spread his corruption anew.

  There was only one surefire way to stop someone like this. And there was only one type of person capable of doing it.

  When Caleb had come upon Winslow in the alleyway in the aftermath of the safe house’s destruction, already knowing who the man was, he’d intended to kill him then and there. Harper had come along too soon, but it was easily enough remedied now.

  Not because of the pain the man’s actions caused Alex. Though her pain had wrent at his soul, it had also ultimately played a role in bringing her back to life and back to him.

  No, this was Caleb’s duty. It was the obligation he’d accepted for good and ill when he’d taken Samuel’s offer some eighteen years earlier. He wasn’t paid by the Senecan Federation government any longer, but protecting others would always be his duty. To his way of thinking he’d merely embarked on a new phase of it when he’d ventured into the portal network in search of secrets and answers.

  In days soon to come, humanity was going to need to be at its best—better, stronger, more determined than it had ever been. His study of history at university years ago taught Caleb a few things, but one of the most important was this: more often than anyone realized, the difference between history—and thus future—shifting one way instead of another was a single decision by a single person.

  A poison with power like Jude Winslow could not, must not, be allowed to make a decision that sent history and future off in a calamitous direction.

  All philosophy aside, he’d dearly love to throttle the life out of the man with his bare hands. Unfortunately, it would be better for everyone, including Caleb, if the terrorist died in an apparent suicide. It made for an easy, inherently logical tale to spin, truth but for the arrogance inbred into the man’s soul preventing it.