Echo Rift

by G. S. Jennsen

  “I don’t follow.”

  “Assume you have no choice but to take the Elder at his word, and a Kat Rift Bubble is off the table. Then the question becomes this: given the restrictions the Elder has laid out regarding what he will and won’t accept, how can we help them properly defend against a Rasu attack?”

  She resumed pacing, but in a slower, more methodical manner. “You’re saying a Rift Bubble isn’t the only way. Of course it isn’t. They’re going to let us send our fleet, much as they sent theirs to aid us. I think they’re even going to let Concord ships enter their stellar system when the time comes. But without a Rift Bubble to keep the Rasu off the ground, it’s still a war of attrition at best, and in that situation the Rasu will always have the advantage. They’ll keep sending additional ships until they overwhelm our blockade.”

  “I’m not sure you’re correct. The Rasu have demonstrated they will retreat once they know they can’t win the day. So how do we show them they can’t win the day?”

  “With a Rift Bubble.”

  He stepped into her path to draw her into his arms and kiss her on the forehead. “You’re stuck, Nika. And I get it, because those devices have been a godsend. They’ve saved millions of Asterion lives and will save millions more. But they won’t win this war for us.”

  “That’s what Miriam Solovy says.”

  “She’s right. But every day, we and Concord are developing more and better weapons and tactics to destroy the Rasu. What if we can devise a weapon, or a defense, that incorporates Taiyok technology? If it also includes Asterion or Kat tech, do you think the Elder will accept the compromise?”

  “He took a rather hard line against Kat tech. According to Xyche, the Taiyoks don’t care for using Asterion tech either, but I think once his world is burning, the Elder might be willing to bend the rules, given how we’re allies. What do you have in mind?”

  “Can we start with the Rift Bubble, deconstruct it and build something new from it? Something Asterion in design?”

  A new intensity in her expression suggested he had her on the hook. “It can’t hurt to try. We have to try something…” she smiled a little “…because pacing isn’t getting it done.”

  “That’s the spirit.” He nudged her over to the couch, sat and drew her down beside him. “Let’s get Hoya Isao, Parc and a few others on a ceraff and see what we can create.”

  Parc: “This Rift Bubble code is insane. Nika, why didn’t you show it to me before now?”

  Nika: “You’ve been busy, and I’ve been noodling over it, trying to make sense of it on my own.”

  Parc: “I’m not that busy. Plus, there are two of me. You’re a decent enough deriver, don’t get me wrong, but you should’ve brought it to me.”

  Beside Dashiel on the couch, Nika rolled her eyes. “I’ve brought it to you now.”

  Parc: “Right. Thanks.” Silence fell for a few seconds. “Where have all these dimensions been my whole life?”

  Dashiel: “Right beneath our feet this entire time, apparently.”

  Parc: “And above our heads and dancing around in our skin. Damn. I need a minute with this.”

  Nika: “If it helps, Alex sent me a copy of the code for Concord’s Dimensional Rifter shielding. It’s based on the Rift Bubble code.” She situated it in a new column beside the first program.

  Parc: “Oh!”

  Nika: “Oh, what?”

  Parc: “I’m an idiot, but Alex isn’t. Now I see how to fold and unfold the dimensions. Like so.”

  New quantum functions spun out and spiralized across their virtual headspace. Dashiel tried to concentrate on the logic flows. After a minute he was able to follow what Parc was doing, but only barely.

  Nika: “Fantastic. This is similar to what I was starting to explore earlier for…it’s not important for now.”

  Parc: “My mind is exploding with ideas on how we can modify this design to fuck some Rasu shit up.”

  Dashiel sighed. That was the goal….

  Dashiel: “Can we do it in reverse? Turn the bubble inside out?”

  Parc: “With infinite dimensions available, I’m not convinced ‘reverse’ has any practical meaning.”

  Dashiel: “I only mean—”

  Parc: “No, I get you. What if—”

  Hoya: “What if we made the devices tiny?”

  Nika: “I assume they’ll pull whatever crosses their threshold into the dimensional folds then spit it back out somewhere else. But unless they act like a black hole and actively suck in everything in the vicinity, if they’re too small they won’t do much damage.”

  Hoya: “True, but if we—”

  Parc: “Everyone shut up. Give me ten seconds.”

  Ceraffin were a much less disorienting experience if you closed your eyes, but in the lull, Dashiel peeked over at Nika beside him. She’d dropped her head against the cushion and was pinching the bridge of her nose, her lips drawn tight. Still insisting on carrying the weight of the universe on her shoulders. He squeezed her hand and was rewarded with a slight upward curl of her lips.

  Parc: “I am the smartest man in the universe.”

  Nika: “No one is disputing this. What do you have?”

  Parc: “We make it tiny, and we turn the mechanism inside out. Great ideas, both of you.”

  Dashiel: “Thanks, but what does doing so get us?”

  Parc: “If I understand these gems of equations correctly, the size of the device will constrain the reach of the rift. But considering one five-meter-wide device can protect an entire planet, a finger-sized one should be able to consume a Rasu leviathan. Yes, that’s as wild as it sounds.

  “So, say a tiny one impacts a leviathan. The dimensional mechanism is activated, and the rift explodes outward like a supernova to its maximum circumference. Then it collapses in on itself, all the way until the device falls into the rift as well, and the rift is sealed.”

  Dashiel: “But that’s not much different from how negative energy weapons function. We already have those.”

  Parc: “True, but we won’t need big ships to fire these. Also, we can’t use negative energy weapons of any measurable size groundside, or in the atmosphere, or anywhere near anything we want to survive.”

  Dashiel: “And this we can?”

  Parc: “It’s completely self-contained, and it cleans up after itself. We’ll want to keep the impact zones well above the tree lines and a few kilometers away from any buildings, but otherwise it should be safe to use groundside. Safe for us and the Taiyoks, not for the Rasu.”

  Nika: “This brings up another problem. The Kats have programmed all the Rift Bubbles so far to dump out their captures into the center of the closest star. This works because the device is stationary, so the output calculation remains static. But the Dimensional Rifters have a lot of trouble with the inherently dynamic nature of the exit rift, which is why they can’t be used close to planets or stations, either.”

  Parc: “I’m looking, I’m looking…yeah, the Humans are dumb. I can fix it.”

  Nika: “I thought you said they were smart?”

  Parc: “No, I said Alex was smart. Fine, maybe not ‘dumb’ exactly, but I can fix it. Well, not ‘fix it’ per se, but I think I can wedge a static destination point into the code for the tiny versions. It’ll only be applicable for Toki’taku, though. If we want to use them anywhere else, we’ll need to tweak the parameters, but it won’t be too much trouble. With a bit of work, this tweak might even help narrow the Dimensional Rifter problem, too. I’ll talk to Devon Reynolds later.”

  Nika: “Okay, taking you at your word for now, what does this mean? We can create little rift supernova grenades that will destroy Rasu?”

  Parc: “They won’t really be grenades when we shoot them out of rocket launchers. More like pellets of doom.”

  Nika: “Pellets of doom.”

  Parc: “Yep.”

  Dashiel: “Dreadful naming conventions aside, this is a genuinely good idea. At a minimum, we’ll now have one more tool
in our arsenal. But will the Taiyoks accept it?”

  Nika: “I think I can position it as Asterion tech. We’ve done precisely what you suggested, Dashiel. We deconstructed the Kat tech, built it back up and made it our own. But I’m honestly not certain it will be enough.”

  Parc: “I bet it will be enough if we conceal the Pellets of Doom using a Taiyok stealth wrapper. They have the best stealth mechanism I’ve ever seen.”

  Dashiel: “Nika?”

  Nika: “Depending on how dire things get on Toki’taku, it could give the Elder enough leeway to both save face and save his planet. Director Isao, can you build these?”

  Hoya: “If Parc gets his ass back to the lab and gives me actualized code I can implement? I can build them.”

  Nika: “Parc, this is all very impressive in theory, but can you really just create working code out of all this?”

  Parc: “Not ‘just,’ no. It’ll take me—both of me—at least ten hours of intensive work, and I’ll probably need to borrow some people from the Conceptual Research ceraff to help map out every possible branching function. But Director Hoya will have his actualized code by tomorrow morning.”

  Dashiel: “Do it. Every expense is authorized. Whatever it takes.”

  44

  * * *

  MIRAI

  Mirai One

  Parc wandered dejectedly around the spacious warehouse apartment. It was packed with servers and gadgets and his command center and Ryan’s machines, but it felt empty. Desolate.

  Or maybe he was simply exhausted. The promised ten hours of intensive coding—more ‘weaving magic straight out of the ether’ than ‘coding’—had taken almost fourteen hours, plus another two hours reviewing the code flow and manufacturing schematics with Director Hoya. But custom assembly lines were now rolling, producing the first run of their newest weapons to combat the Rasu. They hadn’t named the weapon yet, since ‘Pellets of Doom’ had been unanimously voted down….

  He realized he was standing in front of IkeBot 2.0, and he smiled without meaning to do so. Every day he came home and the mech was still standing here, secure in its rack, was a day that Ryan hadn’t irrevocably given up on them.

  The smile drifted down toward a frown when he noticed the dyne’s chassis was sporting a new, reinforced cover. It hadn’t been there…he’d been gone for most of the last forty hours, but it definitely hadn’t been there a few days ago.

  Which meant Ryan had been coming by to do work on the dyne when Parc wasn’t here. He wasn’t sure how to feel about this.

  He ran a hand along the smooth metal of the dyne’s torso up to its neck and around the back—

  —abruptly two ocular orbs and a ring on its torso lit up in a cool green hue. He leapt away in surprise, but the dyne remained otherwise docile in its rack. His fingers must have slid past an ‘on’ toggle. He was getting sloppy in his weariness.

  He patted the dyne on the shoulder and left it behind as his duplicate retrieved two beers from the refrigeration unit and tossed him one. They collapsed on opposite couches facing one another and simultaneously cracked the beers open. “What am I going to do?”

  “Well, let’s review the situation and how I got here. My insistence on leaping headlong into every new hijinks to cross my awareness got me infected with a virutox, arrested, tortured by the Rasu and finally, mercifully killed. It then got the next incarnation of me gravely injured and trapped in the middle of a planet-wide Rasu invasion. It cost me the best relationship I’ve had in years. Hells, centuries. Not such a great track record this last year.”

  “But, it hasn’t all been bad. My hijinks also led me to discover how kyoseil connects all Asterions, thus paving the way for the ceraffin, Plexes, cocooning ships and all sorts of other technological advances. They helped me to rescue Perrin’s sweetheart and capture a sadistic madman. They enabled Nika to find out people were alive on Namino, reach them in one piece and ultimately save the planet from the Rasu. All good things.”

  “True. Call it a mixed performance. So…what am I going to do? Can I give it up for Ryan? Not the hijinxing, though I can certainly try to rein it in to a reasonable level. The Plexing.”

  “He’s worth it, isn’t he? And, in all honesty, two of me might be more than this world can handle right now.”

  “There I go again, deflecting uncomfortable, serious questions with an arrogant wisecrack.”

  “It’s one of my best skills.”

  “But maybe it shouldn’t always be.”

  They paused, staring at each other for a moment. “Maybe not.”

  “I’m grumpy, I’m lonely—no offense, but I’m not much company for myself—and I’m frustrated. I’m…sad. Being the coolest guy in the city isn’t any fun if I’m all alone. So what do I do?”

  “You clasp your hand over your heart, tell Ryan how much you love him and need him in your life, and beg for his forgiveness.”

  Both of him leapt to their feet at the sound of IkeBot’s electronic, affectless voice. “What the hells?” He/they ran over to the dyne, which otherwise continued to stand placidly in its rack, though the green lights remained on. Parc scrutinized the chassis and the head casing. “Why did you say that, IkeBot? Have you been listening to me?”

  “Only since you turned it on.”

  Parc whipped around to see Ryan standing in the entry doorway, arms and ankles crossed. “That was you? I mean of course it was you.” As thrilled as he was to see the man here, he scowled nonetheless. “Did you set IkeBot up to record me while I was here?”

  “No, you idiot. You’re the one who activated it. The last time I was here, I ran a diagnostic routine on its sensor functions, and I must have forgotten to toggle off the routine before I shut it down.”

  Parc glanced back and forth between IkeBot, Ryan and himself. “When I turned it on, it started recording and sent you the stream.”

  “More or less.”

  He/they smirked; they couldn’t help it. “And what you heard spurred you to sprint several kilometers across the city to get here as fast as you could?”

  “Actually, I was down the street at the noodle shop, but…more or less.” Ryan sighed heavily and shook his head. “I’m sick of pouting like a whiny little bitch. I’m not having any fun, either, you know. And you got a couple of things right in your migraine-inducing debate with yourself. Your multiple versions have been straight-up heroes lately. If there weren’t two of you running around, a lot of people would have died in a lot of places over the last few months. I can’t in good conscience demand to trade my psychological comfort for the lives you saved.”

  This was starting to sound like a reconciliation. He joined his duplicate in propping against the server stack closest to the door. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but Plexes are legal now. So if that’s what was holding you back…?”

  “I heard, and it wasn’t. I don’t have any interest in being two of me. But I understand why you do. I just need to know that you spare half a nanosecond of thought to care every now and then—”

  “Not every now and then. All the time. Listen, even two of me are boring without you at my side. I want to go on adventures and kick up trouble with you. I want to collaborate and invent outlandish new mechs and drones and attack routines. I want to sit on the couch and watch stupid vids ironically with you. I—”

  He/they went up to Ryan and palmed their left hands over their hearts. “I love you, and I need you in my life.”

  Ryan’s cheeks flushed bright red. “Gods, Parc, I didn’t mean—it wasn’t an order or an ultimatum.”

  “But it was a great suggestion, I believe. Please forgive me for being a thoughtless, selfish ass.”

  “We’re all selfish, Parc. But isn’t it better to be selfish about each other?”

  “Yes! Let’s do that.” He/they took one more step, each placing a hand on Ryan’s shoulders. Their voices dropped to a murmur. “Can we do that?”

  Ryan’s gaze drifted from one of them to the other. “This is still weird.
”

  “Good weird, though, don’t you think?” Parc’s lips hovered centimeters away—from Ryan’s twitching mouth, and from the curve of his neck.

  “I could…with some practice…probably find a way to get used to it.”

  “Excellent. Let’s start practicing now.”

  45

  * * *

  SAVRAK

  Site 2A

  Ghorek was checking the perimeter defenses of their hidden camp when a breeze rushed past him. The air was otherwise hot, humid and most of all still, so he drew up short, instantly on alert.

  Ahead of him, a wave of starlight danced amidst the jungle flora and coalesced into the translucent form of a towering Savrakath.

  We must speak, Ghorek.

  There was no sound; the voice whispered in his head, yet was distinct from his own thoughts. His heart pounded in his chest, but he forced his stance to remain tall and proud. Many years ago, Jhountar had once told Ghorek that the gods spoke to him. Ghorek had ascribed the absurd declaration to Jhountar’s continuing attempts to amplify his image and stature. He might have been wrong on that point.

  “Who are you?”

  Your people have long called me Galakharno. I come to you now, in your time of greatest need, with counsel.

  The being’s commanding presence shook Ghorek’s composure, though he continued to do his best not to let it show. He was the leader of his people now, and this being clearly recognized his status. But he’d never been a religious person, and if any crumbs of faith had once clung to his psyche, the sea of death and destruction he’d witnessed these last weeks had swept them away. “Whatever you believe yourself to be, Galakharno, the old gods are dead. We have forged our own destiny without them, and we have no need of them now.”

  You exist only at my pleasure, and you must heed my tidings if you wish to survive this trial and rebuild your world.