These Metigens, or else a lot of crazy, determined and suicidal people, wanted Alexis Solovy and Caleb Marano dead. Badly.
A door two-thirds of the way down the hall on his right opened, and a young woman in BDUs stepped out. She looked up at him briefly as he passed, and he responded with the casual nod one gave to strangers.
As he did so he took in a number of details: the tendons corded stiffly along her neck to betray a state of extreme tension and the shimmer of a personal shield visible solely in infrared via his ocular implant, for instance. Mostly, however, he noticed the blade hilt cupped in her palm despite her attempt to hide it by holding her arm snug against her side.
He continued on for another two paces then whirled and leaped forward to tackle her while her back was turned. The blade extended as they hit the ground, and his hand slammed her wrist to the floor an instant before the tip would have sliced into his thigh. Her head jerked up to swipe his jaw in a glancing blow as he wrenched her other arm behind her.
“This is an outrage—I’m a sergeant in Terrestrial Aeronautics!”
He grunted in exertion but managed to secure wrist restraints around her struggling arms. “That doesn’t disqualify you from being an attempted murderer, Sergeant.”
The guard stationed at the near end of the corridor came charging around the corner with his gun drawn; Kessler waved him off as he pocketed the woman’s weapon. “I’ve got this. Get your ass back to your post unless you want someone else to slip through the net.”
The guard hesitated. “Do you need me to call for backup?”
“Nope.” He hauled the woman to her feet, spun her around to face him and shoved her into the wall. Then he delivered a hard right hook to her jaw. Her head slammed against the wall behind her and rebounded to sink to her chest.
He grabbed her by the arms once more to prevent her from collapsing to the floor and began dragging her down the hall.
Sanchez, need you upstairs to take over floor duty for twenty.
Brigadier Navick? We got another one. Military this time. I’m bringing her in.
28
NEW BABEL
INDEPENDENT COLONY
* * *
OLIVIA STARED OUT THE LONG WALL of windows at the street below. The sole outward sign of her displeasure with what she saw was the steady tap-tap of her nails on her left thigh.
She hadn’t left the building housing the Zelones headquarters and her penthouse since returning from Pandora. To do so would have been an imprudent risk she need not take. She maintained access to all she required in order to control her galaxy-spanning enterprise from right here, thus there was no reason to taunt death by walking among the increasingly brutal and uncivilized rabble.
The neighborhood had been raucous bordering on riotous for nearly a week. Now, however, there was an actual riot. For several blocks in every direction people filled the streets, shouting and fighting and tossing a variety of implements at the façade of her building. Not only her building, but mostly her building to be sure.
Yes, it seemed these people had congregated to express some grievance they had with her organization. Something about wanting food or shelter or protection—though if the protection they sought was from the aliens, this was beyond her ability to provide even had she desired to do so.
As for the other demands, it was not her fault New Babel’s infrastructure did not instantly supply bedding, lodging and sustenance for the influx of over two million refugees in less than a month. Not when most of those refugees arrived with no means of supporting themselves. Well, perhaps she bore some small responsibility. But these refugees arrived fully aware New Babel possessed no government and no safety net.
She sensed Aiden draw near to join her at the windows. He’d taken an escorted skycar here the night before, implicitly admitting he too had no desire to risk the chaos of the streets. The rioters below possessed numerous weapons of varying strength, and soon after he’d arrived they’d begun shooting at any skycars in the vicinity. In the pre-dawn hours they had managed to shoot down the last one to approach her rooftop landing pad.
As such, he was now effectively trapped here with her. She hadn’t ascertained how he felt about it, for he continued to give nothing away in his expression or tone.
“I checked in with a couple of my people. They’re seeing the same thing at my offices.”
She looked over curiously. “You have crowds rioting outside your headquarters thirty kilometers away?”
“It’s not surprising the beggars would claim the same grievances against me as they do you.”
“No, but two simultaneous and targeted riots at widely disparate locations is surprising. It means they have organizers who are capable of controlling and mobilizing a large number of people.”
The door beeped across the room, indicating someone requesting entry. She opened it to allow Gesson to step inside.
“You called for me, Ms. Montegreu?”
“You’ve seen the situation outside?”
“I have, ma’am. We’ve strengthened security at all entrances and exits.”
“I assumed you had. I want you to raise the force fields in a two-block radius, then gas them.”
The enforcer jerked his head in acceptance. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll take care of it.”
Aiden was studying her as Gesson departed. “You can do that?”
She awarded him a small, pleased smile. “You can’t?”
Hundreds of bodies lay slumped upon the ground, many half on top of one another and with limbs contorted at awkward angles. In the distance shimmering force fields the color of rotted melons rose a hundred meters in height at the surrounding street intersections. Two dozen of her security personnel picked their way through the unconscious bodies confiscating weapons and other contraband. The rioters would be out for another hour at a minimum, but her people worked swiftly.
Aiden shook his head as they stepped outside and appraised the scene. “I have to admit, this is an impressive display of power on your part.”
She shrugged. “I make a point to very publicly wield a number of defensive measures, but the best defenses are the ones which are invisible—right up until they’re not. The field generators and chemical dispensers have been in place for twenty-two years, and no one was the wiser. This is the first time I’ve needed to use them.”
“And having used them once, I doubt you will ever need do so again.” He stepped over several of the rioters to crouch next to a beefy, pale-skinned man and nudge him onto his back. “I know this man. He’s one of Shào’s district lieutenants.”
“So not a street thug likely to be rioting for food.”
“No.” His eyes scanned the immediate vicinity, then he kicked several bodies out of the way to move another ten meters into the street. “This one, too. He’s a Shào enforcer.”
It was to be expected that Aiden would have greater knowledge of members of the Shào cartel than she. A smaller cartel fighting its way up, Shào tussled with Triene as the player occupying the next rung above them. They hadn’t been pleased with her after she liberated one of their manufacturing facilities last month, of course, but they simply didn’t have the muscle or power to challenge her. They didn’t legitimately have the muscle or power to challenge Triene either, but reality wasn’t stopping them from making a go of it. She admired their ambition at least, if not the quality of their judgment.
“What do you think the odds are if you were able to search the rioters at your offices you’d find Shào plants there as well?”
“Certain odds. As for searching them? Seeing as I don’t possess your means, if they don’t disperse soon I’ll be forced to use more lethal methods in order to do either.”
He could deal with his difficulties in whatever manner he pleased; she was far more interested in what they had uncovered. “Eun Shào has been a bad, bad boy.”
“I gather he doesn’t particularly care for our little arrangement.”
“Nor should he.”
Aiden grimaced as drool dribbled out of a gaping mouth beside where he stood onto his shoe; he dragged the shoe across the rioter’s shirt to remove it. “Shall I blow up his headquarters for you?”
She blinked once, then again to erase the astonishment. “You can do that?”
He smirked darkly. “You can’t?”
29
EARTH
EASC HEADQUARTERS
* * *
MIRIAM WATCHED FROM THE DOORWAY as two medical techs bustled around Alexis, attaching sensor pads and checking equipment readings. Her daughter sat on the edge of the cot, legs swinging in the air with what she recognized as redirected nervous energy.
When one of the techs finished affixing sensors to her temples and backed away, Alexis looked around and spotted her. A subtle jerk of her head signaled Miriam should come over. She drew in a breath, readied her reservoir of inner strength and approached the cot.
For possibly the first time ever, she almost wished she wasn’t in uniform. She was accustomed to using it as a psychological shield and at times a weapon—but now the collar felt tight at her neck and the unyielding fabric constricted her chest. Together they formed a metaphysical boundary between her and her daughter, between what she wanted to say and what she could say.
She moved to stand in front of Alexis, close enough the swinging legs stilled lest they smack her in the knee. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Yes, I do.”
She tried again. “We can find another way.”
“No, we can’t. We’re out of time. This is the way.”
Dear lord, Alexis was easily twice as stubborn and three times as inquisitive as David had ever been. Damn her for being cursed to love them both.
She reached out and grasped Alexis’ hand in her own. Perhaps the uniform wasn’t an impervious obstacle; perhaps she could maneuver past its defenses.
“Alex…you have grown into the most amazing woman. You are the strongest, bravest, most fearless person I have ever known, your father included, and though I would do anything to remove this burden from you, I am so, so proud of you for bearing it willingly.”
The smile that blossomed on her daughter’s lips was so like David’s her heart nearly burst. “Hey, Mom? I love you.”
She managed a strangled sigh and wrapped her arms around her daughter. “I love you, too.”
Over Alexis’ shoulder she noted Dr. Canivon now stood on the other side of the cot and appeared to be displaying some degree of impatience. She drew back and put all that inner strength into projecting a calm, confident visage. “Good luck.”
Alexis’ mouth quirked around and she made a face at the ceiling. “Here’s hoping it doesn’t come down to luck.”
The glass wall formed an invisible barrier between Caleb and the outpatient surgery room which Alex, Dr. Canivon, a nurse and two techs occupied. He could hear everything being said at least, even if it filtered in and around his own turbulent thoughts.
“I’ll be implanting the interface at the base of your neck beneath your existing cybernetic connections. It’ll be encased in a biosynth graft, and it’s flexible enough you shouldn’t feel it after a few hours.”
His pulse rushed through the pathways of his body, driving him forward though he stood still, his arms crossed loosely over his abdomen. Canivon was making it sound like such a simple thing, this melding of human and synthetic into something…new.
Alex nodded understanding as the doctor continued to move around the cot upon which she sat while explaining the various details. “Among other things, the new ware adds functionality to your ocular implant, enabling you to see as Valkyrie does without closing your eyes. Because people will notice, you need to be aware this will create a luminescent effect in your irises, somewhat akin to your glyphs.”
Alex’s face screwed up a little. “That should be entertaining.”
Oh how he hoped it was entertaining. Of course she would find it so, and if on the flip side she in fact did then it would mean it was still her, still her mind and spirit and soul.
“The pathways for the connection will be permanently open, but you’ll be able to block and open the link itself at any time. Your eVi will know how to accomplish this, so it works the same as issuing any directive.”
“And when Valkyrie’s blocked, she’s really blocked?”
Canivon fiddled with a display. “You’ll be able to communicate with her similar to how you would when using a remote interface, but she will have no access to your mind, nor you to hers.” The woman squeezed Alex’s shoulder in reassurance. “Your irises will stop glowing then, too.”
“Good to know.”
“As we discussed, I’m going to sedate you for the medical procedure and while the connection is established. This will allow your brain to adapt to the link without your consciousness making things more…challenging. Once the readings are in the proper ranges, I’ll gradually wake you. Everything is in order, so whenever you’re ready.”
Alex’s gaze rose to find him through the glass. She flashed him a brave, dazzling smile…though she couldn’t disguise the barest tinge of panic in her eyes.
His heart melted and spilt into a puddle upon the floor. His fists clenched in knots against his abdomen from the effort of not running into the room, scooping her up into his arms and rescuing her from this fate.
Instead he directed the energy into the act of returning the gesture.
Then she turned back to Dr. Canivon, and the steps common to the start of any medical procedure began.
But this wasn’t any medical procedure.
He viewed Artificials the same way he viewed most technology, ships, equipment and a host of other human inventions: damn useful in the right hands, dangerous in the wrong ones. His outlook was a product of his profession, where in a given situation almost every object in existence could be a potential tool or potential weapon. He counted luddites and warenuts alike among his friendly acquaintances. If pressed on the question he’d have placed himself in the moderately pro-synthetic camp, if only because he was a proponent of moving forward rather than in reverse.
Most people debating the merits of synthetic intelligence got caught up on the question of whether or when the intelligence became ‘alive.’ But alive or not, the far more pertinent question to him had always been whether or when the intelligence might inflict harm on the innocent. Standing here now, watching Alex place the integrity—the very survival—of her mind into the hands of one, his question still lacked an answer.
This was the tool they needed to match the aliens on the battlefield. Mesme believed it to be so and had gone to great lengths to ensure they understood this as well. The alien had been secretive, enigmatic and maddeningly frustrating, but it did want humanity to endure—of that much Caleb was certain. So this was the way; this was what had to be.
He just wished it didn’t have to be her.
“You love her.”
He had been vaguely aware of Miriam Solovy coming to stand beside him but had been too transfixed by the other side of the glass to acknowledge her. He didn’t look at her now either, unable to tear his focus from Alex as she lay down on the cot and drew ever closer to irrevocation.
“I do.”
He sensed more than saw Miriam nod. “You realize she isn’t tamable.”
He did whip over to her at that. “Why in the bloody hell would I want to tame her? You’re correct, I’m sure I’d never be able to were I to try—and would end up on my ass in the street for the effort. But why would I ever want to try? Do you have any idea how remarkable and rare a person she is?”
Rather than launch into an admonishment, she offered a weak, wistful smile. “Wild things have no need to tame one another….”
“What?”
“Merely something I heard someone say once. Good answer, by the way. It only took me three decades to realize the same.”
He wrangled his flare of righteous indignation back under control. “Well, she’s glad you did
—and therefore I’m glad you did.”
Miriam exhaled and faced the glass. Together they watched as Alex faded to unconsciousness.
“Do you think this is going to work?”
The words hung heavy in his throat. “I don’t know.”
30
EARTH
EASC HEADQUARTERS
* * *
“I’M GOING TO START DECREASING the sedation now.”
—riot at Pillei spaceport 17 casualties 123.4811 tonnes of food consumed per year on Cronus mass of Eta Carinae-A 117M oww pain I skinned my knee Dad—
“This will let her consciousness ease into its new circumstances.”
—it’s dark and I’m scared measured velocity of Metigen swarmers 0.354mms truth is verifiable to the extent thoughts and statements correspond with actual things—
—his mouth tastes so good oh! truth verified by observed results dead why please no beautiful increase CO2-O2 conversion by 2.3% via introduction of phytoplankton for optimal atmospheric terraforming—
“Alex, can you hear me?”
—open your eyes open my eyes how here cranial nerve VII zygomatic branch trigger orbicularis oculi muscle or I could simply—
Eyes open. Hurts. Sharp corners—Abigail’s cold, analytical stare—don’t insult Abigail—Mom behind—is she afraid for me? of me?—is that what fear looks like on a human? sometimes sometimes they run—
“Yes. No—both. Yes. But why can’t—” she sensed her neck jerk, shoulders jerk “—I see no isn’t right—” stars rushing by how am I in them “—want to calculate speed of—” supernova too bright Connor sticking his tongue in her ear my ear eww don’t worry it gets better aliens departed too long “—already done. What now? We need to stop them coordinated I can—”
“Alex.”
Warmth. Oh my the warmth pheromones skin gripping vibration beneath can you feel it so human tell my hand to squeeze.
“Look at me.”
A pulse. Beat-beating against your my our palm. Alive.
Transcendence: Aurora Rising Book Three Page 21
