Requiem: Aurora Resonant Book Three (Aurora Rhapsody 9)

by G. S. Jennsen

  The Anaden government, law enforcement and military ruled a galaxy, and the Asterions, as resourceful and motivated as they were, stood no chance of prevailing over such a force once deadly weapons were deployed. A few stray Asterions were believed to have fled in generation starships to locations unknown, but the bulk were either killed or shut down, and by the end in most cases none could truthfully say which had occurred.

  Again Nyx stopped, struck by a swell of outrage. SAIs dared not be trusted on their own—right?—but killing the young, back when Anadens began their lives young, as if they were some terrifying, weaponized enemy of Anaden civilization? Had the government really been so threatened by the prospect of change—

  Of course it had been.

  She rubbed at the bridge of her nose and began to read more quickly, the thrill of the hunt, of chasing truth, spurring her onward.

  In the turbulent aftermath of the crushing of the SAI Rebellion, increased genetic modification under the strict control of the government gradually gave rise to the Dynasty system. Initially billed as an initiative to ‘strengthen Anaden strengths’ by honing the natural talents the most successful families exhibited, before too long an individual was Dynasty or they were no one at all. Not so long after that, all individuals were Dynasty.

  Later, on the heels of further biomedical advances, came the introduction of the integrals. Sold as a way to reinforce community ties among the members of a Dynasty, over millennia they gradually morphed into a tool for consciousness shaping, stopping mere centimeters short of creating a hive mind so as to preserve the illusion of individuality and personal sanctity.

  Nyx sighed. The last part hadn’t been in the recorded text either. Only days free of the integral’s subconscious influence, she was no longer able to ignore what it represented: mind control. A leash with just enough length to hide the slavery holding the other end.

  But she did not come here to reinforce what she already knew, and she could work up a case of righteous indignation at the lies the Directorate wove upon an unsuspecting populace later. She came here in search of what she did not know. Where in the voluminous texts was the event between Corradeo Praesidis and his son that the diati had shown her?

  She suspected the integrals had not existed at the time the event took place. They hadn’t been mentioned, but it was more that she’d sensed their absence. Words uttered in the dream-vision suggested the Dynasties did exist, in practice if not yet in law, which put it after the SAI Rebellion but before the introduction of the integrals. By that time the Praesidis family had been both powerful and famous for millennia; a tragedy befalling its core family members would have made headlines. She scanned back through the records, hunting for the slightest hint of such a momentous event. But there was nothing.

  Then again, she’d found that these records rarely elaborated on either the personal or the professional details of the individuals who came to lead the Dynasties. The gradual transition of official power from the republican government to the unelected Directorate, while it must have been fraught with controversy and contention at the time, was glossed over in a few sparse sentences. Like so many things, it simply came to pass.

  History is written by the victors.

  But if that proved true, she shouldn’t even trust the scant details recorded here, should she?

  “The Directorate will call these recordings a lie, but they have always lied to you.”

  The words from the anarch leader’s speech echoed in her mind, as they so often did of late. She’d reviewed the speech numerous times since its broadcast. In fact, she had it memorized, but this didn’t stop her from pulling up the visual to watch it again now.

  The power exuding from the man’s presence, from his voice, from his eyes, could not be quantified or contained. After dozens of viewings, she felt drawn to him more strongly than ever.

  “I know it because I have lived it and I have lost it.”

  That one had puzzled her from the beginning. What did he mean? He wasn’t Human—of this much she was certain—so she doubted he referred to the Humans’ civilization, though she supposed he might have visited it.

  The Directorate’s control became solidified beyond doubt or challenge some five hundred thousand years ago; if he had lived before the concentration of power occurred it would put him on par with the Primors—

  She leapt up out of her chair so fast she banged a knee on the table in front of her.

  Surely not. He died that day.

  No. Examine your premises. He fell that day. Any further assertion is conjecture.

  In her analytical mind, honed to perfection through thousands of generations of genetic refinement, all the scattered pieces snapped into place, drawn together by the magnet of truth. She could not believe it, but she also could not deny it. Truth revealed could not be hidden anew. Not from an Inquisitor.

  19

  TARACH

  SIYANE

  * * *

  ALEX MET CALEB in the airlock. “Good, you’re back. Don’t get comfortable. I need a Reor slab with data stored on it—it doesn’t matter what kind of data. And a reader device. And someone who knows what’s stored on the slab, or a report of what’s on it. Possibly also a duper and a blank slab. Or maybe not. I’m not certain.”

  Caleb ran a hand through rumpled hair, which was when she realized neither of them had seen a shower since before Chionis, though he’d at least changed clothes. Had Chionis been today? Damn long day. “You’ve figured how to use the decryption key.”

  It was a statement, not a question, but she didn’t have quite that much faith yet. “Possibly? I had a flash of inspiration that it might involve wave harmonics. And I really hope I’ve cracked it, because we sure could benefit from access to Anaden information banks right about now. But I need to test my theory with real data, hence all the supplies.”

  He nudged her to the side and went through the cabin to the kitchen to get some water. “I can try to enlist someone’s help on Satus, but I suspect it’s still rather chaotic there. Also, we just got Nisi and Volya marginally calmed down, so we probably shouldn’t push our luck so soon. We haven’t met any of the techs here at Delta, so I doubt they’ll be forthcoming. I think a skeleton crew is at Epsilon, though, salvaging what—”

  “Devon. He can help.”

  Caleb nodded and took a long swig of water.

  Alex: Devon, where are you?

  Devon: Palaemon, helping the techs pack up their gear and equipment while sneaking peeks at secrets.

  Mia jumped in. He won’t leave the Epsilon labs until nothing but dust bunnies remain.

  Alex: No, that’s perfect. Well, except you do have to leave, Devon. I need you to bring a couple of things with you to Post Delta.

  She could practically hear him groan. Can’t you come get what you need?

  Alex: Nope. Epsilon travel is one-way only until someone important decides it’s safe to return.

  Devon: But….

  Alex: I have a theory about the Reor data storage encryption. If I’m right, you’ll be able to peek at more secrets than you can dream of, but I can’t find out if I’m right without those supplies.

  Devon: Okay, okay. Tell me what you need.

  AFS STALWART II

  TARACH STELLAR SYSTEM

  Richard studied the plethora of files arrayed before him in search of a way to absorb it all. Devon had neatly categorized, tagged and cross-referenced everything to the point where the files formed a series of nested trees anyone could make sense of—the organization, that was. Making sense of the content was proving to be another matter.

  With Devon still at Post Epsilon, Richard was left to his own devices to try to figure out how in the world he might help. He’d come here for David, but he’d soon been swept up in the struggle and the stakes of this universe and the anarchs’ rebellion, much as everyone was upon their arrival.

  Now he was placing his bets on his contribution to the war, if there was to be one, being in wrangling this d
ata into submission then coaxing it to cough up its secrets. He merely needed a hook, a loose edge he could grab onto and use to get inside the maze.

  His thumbs rubbed absently at his temples. If he were in charge of anarch intelligence, what would he be doing right now? They already knew how the Directorate had located Post Alpha; what they didn’t know was whether the Directorate had intel on any other posts, though each hour that passed without a new attack made it less likely. On the assumption the locations remained hidden for now, AEGIS had a vested interest in making certain they stayed hidden. The anarch leadership insisted—

  A voice at his ear accompanied a hand alighting on his shoulder. “I brought you coffee.”

  Will set a mug down on the table as Richard spun the chair around to face his husband. “I thought you were going to get some sleep.”

  “In spite of my better judgment, I did give it a solid try under the theory that someone should be well-rested tomorrow. But instead I just lay there thinking.”

  Richard retrieved the mug and sipped on the coffee. It didn’t surprise him to find it both fresh and warm. Will made taking care of all the small details look effortless. “About?”

  “Not about all the people who died today or about how we can help those who survived—and I feel guilty for that. No, I was thinking about you.”

  Richard frowned over the top of the mug. “Okay. Then I’m guessing there’s something on your mind.”

  Will nodded vaguely, opting to study the room’s contents rather than answer immediately. The workroom didn’t offer much in the way of comforts, and he leaned against the only bare spot of wall. His hands came to his chin, fisting and steepling in succession.

  “Will?”

  “All these years, I assumed you’d been at least a little bit in love with him.”

  “With…David?” Realization dawned, and with it a gut reaction of offense. “Because I can’t simply be friends with a man?”

  “Oh, for certain you can. It wasn’t that, as such. But the impact he had on your life, the way you still mourned him years after he was gone? What you had with him was no ordinary friendship. And in times of doubt, I had to wonder: if he’d been alive when you and I met, would we ever have been at all?”

  “Will—”

  “Let me finish, because this was only the backstory. What I want to say is, having met him, having spent time around him and seen the two of you together? I get it. I understand now. See, I…worried, coming here, and I couldn’t tell you. I promised you I would never lie to you again, and I won’t, but I was damn lucky you were too distracted to notice how I was acting more reserved than usual and ask me what was wrong.

  “I didn’t worry he’d take you away from me—I knew he belonged to Miriam long before I saw them together. No, I worried I’d lose you anyway—lose your heart to someone who had a claim on it years before I came along, and there would be nothing I could do to prevent it. But I realize now how wrong I was to worry, and I want to apologize—”

  Maybe it was the late hour; maybe it was the lowering of inhibitions that accompanied sustained stress and no sleep; maybe it was how seeing Miriam and David together again had made him remember being young, or even reminded him what it meant to be alive. Maybe it was the sincerity and vulnerability in his husband’s voice evoking a powerful desire on his part to heal the anxiety Will had endured in silence.

  Whatever the excuse he was sure to later assign, before he’d realized he’d done it Richard had set the coffee on the table, stood and taken three steps to stand in front of Will. Then another step to press him into the wall, bring a hand at his jaw and drop the other on his hip.

  “Let me make one thing very, very clear, in case I haven’t done so recently. I am yours. Utterly and without reservation. When I learned your secret—when I thought I’d lost you, lost this, lost us—everything collapsed for me. My world.” His lips brushed across Will’s and continued across his cheek to his ear. “I am offended that you would think I gave up my career in the military, gave up my home and went to work for my enemy for anything less than soul-consuming love.”

  Will swallowed, and Richard felt the flexing jaw muscles as his lips retraced their path.

  Bright green eyes shone back at him in the dim, spotty lighting of the room as Will’s hand rose to cradle the nape of his neck. “I am properly chastised. Allow me to make it up to you. I’ll start now.”

  TARACH

  ANARCH POST DELTA

  Alex swung her chair back and forth at the conference room table. Devon claimed he hadn’t encountered difficulties collecting the requested items, but he was late nonetheless. She’d sent Caleb off in search of him.

  She’d almost asked her mother to come to the conference room, but what had been a long day for her had been a nightmarish one for her mother, and it was far from over. Better to wait until she knew what she had. But she also hadn’t seen or heard from her mother in a while. Or her dad, for that matter. Caleb had caught her up on the highlights of the contentious meeting, and they weren’t comforting…

  …now she was officially worried. She pulsed her mom.

  Just checking in. I heard things got heated in the meeting with Nisi earlier.

  They did.

  Is everything all right? Between you and Dad?

  We’ll handle it. There’s no need for you to concern yourself with it.

  Alex rolled her eyes.

  And now I’m ten years old again.

  I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. But we will.

  Before she could conjure what might be a decent response, Devon finally sauntered in, Caleb on his heels. She wondered if Caleb had been forced to shove him all the way here.

  Devon dumped a bag full of items onto the conference table. “One Reor slab full of encrypted data. One reader, which doubles as a duper, and one blank Reor slab.”

  “What about a catalog of the encrypted contents?”

  He shook his head. “That would be cheating. I won’t reveal the contents until you produce data on a screen.”

  “Fine.” Caleb slid the items closer to her on his way to sitting down beside her, and she offered him a grateful smile. “Thank you for wrangling him.”

  “You’re most welcome.”

  She grabbed the reader/duper and slid the encrypted slab Devon had brought in one end of it, then her personal one in the other. Next, she set the contents to transfer over to her slab and display the contents.

  ENTER ENCRYPTION KEY.

  “No go, huh?”

  She shot Devon a glare. “I was merely checking before I got started. Now I’m starting, and I’m going to need to borrow some power from you.” Valkyrie was developing more efficient methods for managing the power required to open a wormhole with every attempt, but they still needed a little power from either the Caeles Prism or another Prevo to accomplish it. It seemed irresponsible to fire up the Caeles Prism on the tiny, precarious landing pad where the Siyane resided.

  Devon shrugged. “Vampire me at your whim.”

  She removed both slabs from the reader/duper and grasped them in each hand, stood and backed up to the wall.

  Valkyrie?

  I am ready.

  Alex closed her eyes and reached across the Noesis to draw the necessary power from Devon. Her skin buzzed as the energy leaked out into the air around her.

  A small wormhole opened directly in front of her. She stepped forward to its boundary, opened her eyes and held out her hands.

  Luminous strings flowed in all directions to and from both slabs—but most importantly, they also flowed between both slabs.

  “Valkyrie, measure the frequencies of all the waves flowing from the encrypted slab to mine.”

  ‘Done.’

  “Alex….” Devon muttered in warning. The power flow was beginning to fluctuate and grow unstable, and the Delta conference room wasn’t that spacious.

  She let go of her link to him and closed the wormhole, then quickly sat again and returned her slab t
o the reader. No waxing philosophical or musing introspectively; she was all business.

  ENTER ENCRYPTION KEY.

  “Valkyrie, what’s the lowest frequency wave?”

  ‘7.550101233 Hz’

  She entered it on the screen.

  ERROR. ENTER ENCRYPTION KEY.

  “The highest?”

  ‘2.265031594 GHz’

  ERROR. ENTER ENCRYPTION KEY.

  She drummed her fingernails on the table, and they fell into an easy rhythm as she did the math. “The highest is a harmonic of the lowest, if you use a large enough multiplier.”

  ‘It is.’

  The answer could be one of a plethora of combinations or calculations. There were a variety of weighted and special-weighted averages and means to consider, as well as golden ratios, Fibonacci sequences and dozens of more obscure ‘special’ formulas. Any of them would seem obvious in hindsight, but none were obvious now.

  The key to opening the Metis portal wasn’t complicated or obscure, however; it simply required having all the measurements on hand and appreciating the relationships that existed among those measurements. “What the hell. The midpoint harmonic between the two is…?”

  ‘1.132515800 GHz.’

  She entered the number, and a gridded display of organized data sprung to life on the virtual screen above the reader.

  She sank back in the chair in relief. Finally! If the key had been something absurd like the inverse weighted harmonic mean of the entire harmonic series, she’d have had words with the Reor leadership, wherever and whatever they might be.

  Devon set about checking the display against his copy of the contents. “It’s a match. Wait—are you suggesting calculating that frequency will always unlock the information on a slab?”

  She retrieved the original encrypted slab and switched them out in the reader/duper. “Let’s find out.”

  ENTER ENCRYPTION KEY.

  She repeated the number.

  ERROR. ENTER ENCRYPTION KEY.

  “Nope. I suspect my special, personally gifted slab is the real key, and this serves as additional layer of security.”