Echo Rift

by G. S. Jennsen

  “Interesting. What do you have in mind?”

  “If I may.” She placed a quantum cube on the corner of his desk and opened up an expansive virtual image. “I had an architect friend of mine mock up these designs. They’re very preliminary, of course. But I want to transform the neighborhood into an inter-species cultural exchange, expo and mentoring center. We allow our alien allies to visit our worlds, but I fear we’re not making them feel particularly welcome while they’re here. It’s time we do so.

  “I want to build an educational center that features the history and culture of every Concord Member species, and possibly Allied species as well. We’ll include ourselves in those presentations, naturally. The center can include play areas for children to interact with alien tools, art and toys, as well as study chambers for in-depth research by visiting scholars. Adjacent to the educational center, I envision an expansive resort and hotel with species-specific rooms and restaurants. Surrounding the resort will be a wide variety of shops and parks, plus outreach centers to help aliens who are interested in working and living on human worlds—and vice versa.

  “In short, I want to make Romane the cultural center of not just humanity, but of Concord. It’s a step we might have taken years ago, but when The Displacement happened, we had so many changes to adapt to and so much to learn. But I believe we’re ready now.” She smiled broadly, and this time it was for more than merely show. “So what do you say, Governor? Will you help me make my vision a reality?”

  Mia walked the three kilometers back to the spaceport with the beginnings of a spring in her step. Governor Tremblay had required a little convincing, but his protestations had mostly been about him testing her to ensure she would see this venture through to completion, or perhaps trying to confirm she wasn’t as insane as some gossip feeds suggested. In the end, she’d won an enthusiastic if preliminary sign-off and a meeting with the Zoning Commissioner tomorrow morning.

  She’d rented a small apartment a few blocks north of the spaceport for now. She didn’t doubt that Malcolm would cede their home here to her—he never voiced it, but he’d always preferred Vancouver to Romane—but she wasn’t ready to surround herself with a house full of memories. This was a fresh start, after all.

  Half a kilometer short of the spaceport, she stopped at a park and relaxed on a bench for a few minutes. A glass fountain reflected the afternoon light of the two suns like a prism, and the weather was warm enough for several children to be playing and squealing among the plumes of water.

  She’d spent an hour writing and rewriting a message to Malcolm last night, for all that it was four measly paragraphs. But she’d needed her plans for the future to be real and on-course before the words themselves could be real. Now they were, so she opened the draft and read it through for the tenth time. It felt wholly inadequate; there was more she wanted to say, wanted to do.

  But she couldn’t fling herself off that cliff again. Not yet. So she gave up stressing over it and hit ‘send.’ Then she stood, rejoined the flow of pedestrians on the sidewalk and struck out into her future.

  66

  * * *

  THE PRESIDIO

  AEGIS Central Command

  A lieutenant showed Malcolm into the fleet admiral’s office, then excused herself and closed the door.

  Until recently, this had been his office, and a wave of nostalgia hitched his step for half a second. But military officers weren’t known for personalizing their offices or for sentimentality, and not much of the decor had been altered with the change in ownership. A single visual above the meeting table, a few framed medals on the wall. And, obviously, the man behind the desk.

  Nolan Bastian stood as he entered; they exchanged salutes, then Bastian offered him a hand. “Admiral Jenner. It’s good to see you back with us and in uniform.”

  Malcolm shook the man’s hand before taking the seat opposite the desk, which only felt a little weird. Okay, fine, it felt a lot weird. “Thank you. I…about the uniform.” He jerked a thumb toward the closed door. “I hear the brass has got a cage match arena set up for us downstairs. Bladed weapons, spiked armor, the whole package. If it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer to disappoint them and skip out on the blood sport.”

  Bastian huffed a restrained laugh. “Your unexpected return has exposed some old fault lines within AEGIS. We’ve enjoyed a unified human military for fourteen years now, but the old loyalties aren’t quite dead. It turns out they were merely slumbering.”

  He and Bastian had served together for years now in the upper echelon of AEGIS military leadership, and they had a good, if somewhat formal, working relationship. They weren’t friends, but they hadn’t been enemies since the 2nd Crux War, and he was relieved to find Bastian in an amiable mood today.

  “So it seems. The Earth Alliance diehards want me reinstated as fleet admiral, while the Federation power brokers insist you keep the position. Believe me, it wasn’t my intent to create this controversy.” He sighed. “A lot of things weren’t my intent. Listen, you earned the position, and you’ve comported yourself with the highest honor since stepping into the role. I don’t have the right to snatch it back away from you now.”

  “Don’t you, though?” Bastian shook his head. “I appreciate you being gracious, I do. And I’m proud of the work I’ve done these last two months. But the truth is, I lost the position the moment you reappeared on Concord soil.”

  Malcolm frowned. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because you enjoy one advantage I never will: you have the trust and confidence of Commandant Solovy. It’s my own fault that I don’t enjoy the same, but I don’t regret my actions toward her. Someone needs to hold her feet to the fire. Someone needs to ensure that she is always accountable for her decisions to the officers serving under her and to the people we protect. I appointed myself to the job the day I became the Federation Field Marshal, and I intend to keep fulfilling my duty for as long as I serve.”

  Bastian clasped his hands atop the desk. “But three battles against the Rasu have made one fact crystal-clear to me: we need to be united and indivisible in this fight if we are to have any chance of defeating what is shaping up to be the most formidable enemy we have ever faced. My strained relationship with the Commandant is a pain point in our chain of command, and this makes it a weakness, one that endangers the lives of countless people every time we go into battle.

  “We can’t tolerate weaknesses, not in this conflict. So I’ll be tendering my resignation as fleet admiral this afternoon. The job’s yours again. You’ve served us well in the past. May you continue to do so in the future.”

  Malcolm stood in the observation room, his hands clasped behind his back and his nose a respectable ten centimeters away from being pressed against the glass. To his right, a fraction over a kiloparsec away, sat Romane, while 1.5 kiloparsecs behind him, Earth’s sun shone. He honestly wasn’t certain where ‘home’ resided any longer, so the bridge of the Denali would have to do for now. And the fleet admiral’s office, it seemed.

  The AEGIS Oversight Board was meeting four floors above him, but with Bastian willingly bowing out, the result should be a foregone conclusion. And Malcolm found he was…glad. Moping, brooding and skulking around scenic locales just didn’t suit him; more relevantly, none of it had helped. He was ready to call an end to this cringe-worthy self-pity and get back to his job. He wanted to save lives and protect the innocent. He wanted a lot more, too, but duty had always been his bedrock. It would keep him afloat now.

  The official communication from the Oversight Board arrived then, and he exhaled in relief. The drama was concluded, and it was time to go to work.

  He pivoted and strode toward the lift. The Denali’s quick jaunt to rescue the surviving Ourankeli had exposed a few lingering cobwebs from languishing in dry dock for two months, and he wanted to take her out for a proper shakedown run. Also, he needed to learn the ins and outs of the new double shielding system.

  He was stepping onto the bridge whe
n his eVi flashed a unique notifier—one he’d set to alert him immediately of any communications from Mia.

  His heart skipped two beats, but he kept his gait steady and his expression blank as he diverted to the captain’s office adjacent to the bridge and closed the door behind him. His hands trembling slightly at his sides, he opened the message. Read it, then read it again.

  Malcolm,

  I’m truly sorry for the things I said to you the other night. If they hurt you—what am I saying? Of course they hurt you, but this wasn’t what I wanted. Or maybe it was. Maybe I wanted you to feel the tiniest fraction of what I had suffered through while you were gone. Still, I’d take many of those words back now if I could.

  But I did mean some of them. I love you. I love you so much I can scarcely breathe when I think about it. Losing you destroyed me, and now the wreckage is scattered around me like flotsam.

  I hope you meant what you said about not giving up on us. It’s unfair of me to ask you to keep hold of this promise, when I can’t promise you anything in return, but I’m selfishly asking you anyway. I wish more than anything that you could tell me you’ll always come back to me and it be true, but I now recognize this is one wish too far. And…I don’t know if I can live with that. I want to try, I do.

  But I need time. I need to remember who I was and figure out who I want to be from here forward. I need to pick up these shattered pieces of myself and see if they can ever fit together again. And I need to be alone to do it. I love you, but you can’t be the only reason I exist in this world. I hope you understand.

  —Mia

  A flutter in Malcolm’s chest set his nerves tingling, spreading warmth out from his fingers to his toes to ignite a smile upon his lips. It felt like hope.

  67

  * * *

  SAVRAK

  To the small group of weary, bedraggled but surviving government and military leaders of Savrak, Lakhes appeared as a great avatar in the likeness of the Savrakaths. Technically, in the likeness of the one they worshiped as Galakharno. A fellow Idryma member, Alastor, had long played this role, but after the Savrakaths went rogue, Lakhes had felt a responsibility to don the guise himself.

  They fell prostrate in front of the avatar—all except Brigadier Ghorek—and in doing so, resembled their ancestral reptiles from a time long before their artificially accelerated evolution had rendered them upright.

  “Galakharno, have you come to save us?” The plaintive voice emerged from among the group’s members, but Lakhes couldn’t say to whom it belonged.

  To save you, and to punish you.

  “Punish us? But we have only ever defended ourselves.”

  Incorrect. You have met diplomacy with aggression, generosity with torture and defeat with vengeance. You strike out blindly, with no reasoned contemplation regarding the culpability of your targets or of your end goal. You have killed many and threatened trillions.

  At root, the blame does not fall solely on you, for you are what I made you. I hastened your development and awarded you with technology and weapons you had not earned on your own. For committing these mistakes, I feel deep regret toward you and your victims. I will bear this responsibility, but now I must bring an end to your foolish, thoughtless actions. You are not ready to live among the stars and their inhabitants.

  Ghorek, who had proudly stepped into Jhountar’s weighty leadership role only to fall victim to his predecessor’s same failings, surged forward out of the gathered group. “What do you mean by this? Would you strike us down for daring to rise up?”

  No. You will live. Your world will survive. Rebuild it, if you can. Learn to stay your hand. Learn judiciousness and, in time, wisdom. One day, you may prove to be ready.

  Another of the group, their voice weaker and more tentative, spoke up. “Galakharno, we don’t understand. If you are sparing our lives, then what is our punishment to be?”

  Do not attempt to leave the atmosphere of your homeworld again. Anyone who does so will find themselves returned to where they began.

  You are now exiled from the stars. But you are also protected, for anyone who attempts to enter your planet’s atmosphere will find themselves returned to where they began as well. Savrak will exist as an island in the sea of space.

  Take this gift—for it is surely that—and use it wisely. Evolve. Better yourselves. Become worthy of this second chance I am granting you. I will be watching.

  Lakhes vanished from their sight in a burst of blinding light, then reappeared thousands of kilometers away, deep in the chaparral wilderness of the planet’s south pole. Here waited the device that members of the Idryma had spent weeks designing, testing and perfecting. Upon learning of its function and capabilities, Mnemosyne had given it the name ‘Echo Rift.’

  Everything seemed to be in order, so with a heavy heart, Lakhes activated it.

  The first layer activated the device’s own self-defense mechanism: a rift barrier that repelled any attempt to reach the internal physical workings, coupled with a cloaking mechanism to hide the device from all eyes.

  The second layer rippled out across the swamps and the ruined cities to expand beyond the circumference of the planet. This barrier faced inward rather than outward: any object or energy trying to escape it would be greeted by a shockwave that swiftly returned them to the planet’s surface. Though it wasn’t designed to kill, injuries upon impact with either the shockwave or the ground were likely. This was unfortunate, but it should teach the Savrakaths not to toy with the barrier.

  The third layer served as the promised protection for Savrak’s inhabitants: a more traditional Rift Bubble that deposited any external object or energy attempting to cross it fifty megameters away from the planet. Not inside the corona of the system’s star in this case, as the would-be intruder could merely be an ignorant explorer.

  Finally, an additional cloaking mechanism activated around the outer layer of the Echo Rift. The void swallowed Savrak whole, and it vanished from sight.

  After confirming that every element of the device was operating as intended, Lakhes left Savrak behind to rejoin the others.

  CAF AURORA

  Savrak Stellar System

  “Damn. It’s as if the planet never existed.” Alex shook her head at the starkly empty scene outside the viewport, suddenly absent one jungle-infested planet.

  She and Caleb had arrived back in Concord space, Ourankeli refugees in tow, only to discover they’d missed a great deal of excitement during their absence. Once the Ourankeli were situated and in the Consulate’s care, she’d accepted her mother’s invitation to come along for the ride and witness the Kats implement their promised solution to the thorny Savrakath ‘problem.’

  Mesme rippled placidly beside her on the bridge. You have seen this manner of stealth deployed in conjunction with a rift device before.

  “Of course—on Portal Prime. And I’ll point out that I was able to get around it.”

  No. I allowed you entry.

  She shot Mesme a little half-smile. “Fair enough. But this one is genuinely impenetrable?”

  There is no one located inside of it capable of granting anyone entry.

  “You can still get inside, though, can’t you?”

  The arrival of Lakhes on the minimally staffed bridge distracted everyone for a moment, and Mesme conferred with the Praetor.

  When they separated, Alex cleared her throat. “Mesme? I asked you a question.”

  When are you not asking me questions?

  “Never. So?”

  Yes, we can penetrate the Echo Rift and reach the planet’s surface. This device is not programmed to accept a bypass code, however, so it will be impossible for anyone else to traverse it. To answer the next question on your tongue, in the unlikely event that the Savrakaths one day discover the device, multiple safeguards surrounding it will prevent them from interfering with its functionality.

  Miriam, pacing languidly atop the bridge overlook, let out an audible sigh and turned toward them. Her mot
her looked as if she felt sorry for the Savrakaths, even after all they’d done. She rarely allowed the weight from the burdens of leadership to show, but every so often, Alex saw the cracks. “What will happen to the Savrakaths now?”

  Lakhes answered. We will watch them, but we will no longer interfere in their development. Time and experience have taught us the perils of trying to shape sentient beings into what we wish them to be.

  Alex coughed into her hand to hide a chuckle. She and Caleb might have played a small role in teaching the Kats this particular lesson.

  Perhaps one day, many centuries from now, they will evolve into a species worthy of joining the interstellar community and participating in a peaceful alliance. But first, they must survive. Then, they must learn how to thrive without our assistance. Time will tell how their story unfolds.

  Miriam nodded stoically. “Very well. I trust you will inform me promptly if anything about their situation ever changes. Barring any such developments, I will close the file on the Savrakaths and turn my more fulsome attention to strengthening Concord, from within and without.” She gave Alex a bittersweet smile. “Shall we return to HQ? I understand your father is making lunch for us.”

  A Caeles Prism wormhole opened in front of the Aurora, and they accelerated through it, leaving the Savrakaths to their fate.

  68

  * * *

  CONCORD HQ

  Command

  By the time they docked at HQ, departed the Aurora and made their way to Command, the ostensibly ‘working lunch’ in the conference room adjacent to Miriam’s office had grown to include Caleb and, this time, Richard as well.