Requiem: Aurora Resonant Book Three (Aurora Rhapsody 9)

by G. S. Jennsen

  “Hmm. What were all the other waves running between the slabs?”

  Valkyrie chimed in. ‘I am analyzing them now, with the benefit of the decryption. I believe the majority represent the data itself.’

  Alex arched an eyebrow. “Hey, do I need a reader at all then? Or once the waves are decrypted, can you translate them into an understandable form?”

  ‘Possibly.’

  Where Valkyrie was considered, ‘possibly’ usually translated as ‘give her five minutes.’ Alex held her slab up and peered at it with a new perspective. The layered mysteries were unraveling rapidly now. “You said ‘the majority’—do you mean there are some waves that are neither the encryption nor the data?”

  ‘A small number, yes. Their purpose is not yet clear.’

  A few more mysteries to unravel, then.

  Caleb had been quiet during her experiment, but he’d also been watching closely. Toward the end, smirking, too. Now he leaned forward, hands clasped above his knees. “Alex, this is big.”

  She agreed, for her mind now raced in concert with Valkyrie’s through a multitude of possibilities and permutations. “It is. It’s time to let Mom know.”

  20

  AFS STALWART II

  TARACH STELLAR SYSTEM

  * * *

  MIRIAM DIDN’T EVEN GLANCE UP when David entered the meeting room. He stopped just inside, to the left of the doorway, and waited while she dispensed a series of orders to her highest-ranking officers.

  “I recognize this will be spreading us thin—frankly, thinner than I’d like. But with two additional Caeles Prisms online as of tonight, we’ll benefit from greater responsiveness and mobility. Brigadier Ashonye, you’re taking one of the new Caeles Prisms and the EA NW Regional formations to Post Bravo in Ursa Major I, where you will adopt a defensive stance until further notice.”

  “Understood, ma’am. Is there anything unique about Bravo that should inform our defensive strategy?”

  “Nothing too noteworthy, but I’m sending you the briefing package on the planet and the post it houses now. Move with all due speed, and update me once your forces are in position. Dismissed.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He stood and left, giving David a respectful nod as he passed.

  Miriam immediately turned to the next officer at the table. “Brigadier Belosca, I won’t keep you by reciting identical instructions. Your destination is Post Charlie in the Triangulum galaxy. Take the other new Caeles Prism and all SF formations. You’ll have the full file on Post Charlie in two minutes, but you should know that most of the anarchs who were evacuated from Chionis in ambulatory condition have ended up there, so Sator Nisi is particularly eager to see it well protected. I trust you’ll do so.”

  The departure protocol played out a second time.

  The final attendee, Rear Admiral Escarra, clasped his hands on the table. “If Field Marshal Bastian is remaining at Palaemon, I assume the rest of our forces will be responsible for guarding Post Delta.”

  “Correct. I’m going to be occupied for the next several hours strategizing with the anarch leadership about our next steps, so I need you to take operational control over the AEGIS forces. Of course, if a threat emerges, I’m seconds away.”

  “Absolutely. You can count on me, ma’am.”

  “I know I can. Dismissed.”

  Upon Escarra’s departure the room was finally clear—but by the time the door closed behind the rear admiral, Miriam had called up two new screens full of data to study with her typical honed intensity. The cold shoulder treatment had always been among her more cutting punishments.

  David took a deep breath and braced himself. “It’s two in the morning.”

  Her focus didn’t stray from the screens. “Only on the ship. Regardless, I don’t have the luxury of a good night’s sleep. If I’m asking my people to work through the night, I can do no less.”

  “I know. But when you didn’t respond to my pulses, I was forced to wonder whether you’d decided to bunk elsewhere for the night.”

  She entered a command on one of the screens, closed it, and swiftly replaced it with another. “A decision I am blessed to not have to make tonight.”

  “If you will allow me—”

  Her gaze finally veered to him. Her expression wasn’t hurt or angry, merely blank, with the most subtle hints of coldness. “Go to bed.”

  “Is that an order, Commandant?”

  She flinched for the briefest instant; it wasn’t the reaction he longed for, but at least he’d earned a reaction. “No, it is a request for the sake of my sanity.”

  “Miri—”

  “I’m not going to fight with you, David. I’m not going to yell at you or try to shame you for your behavior in the meeting. It’s over and done, and there have already been far too many recriminations thrown around for one day. I simply need you to leave and let me work.”

  He chewed on his lower lip and stared at her, but she didn’t return the attention. Her focus promptly reverted to her screens, to all appearances oblivious to his continued presence.

  He stood there until he’d be embarrassing himself if he remained any longer, then for another beat, but finally he turned and walked out.

  Miriam looked up as soon as the door closed, then sank deeper in her chair and let her shoulders sag. She pressed a palm to her forehead for two…three seconds before she straightened her posture and forced herself to concentrate on the briefings, which streamed in unabated.

  The damage reports were, by and large, about what had become typical for a full engagement against a Machim fleet—ones where Igni antimatter missiles didn’t take out space stations and dreadnoughts, anyway. She’d succeeded in building up her forces significantly in the last week, so the net losses were minimal….

  Her train of thought drifted back to David, and she glanced at the door again. Dammit.

  She blinked and reached for a cup of tea that wasn’t there. Fine, she would focus without it. Next up: Bastian had delivered some suggestions for optimizing the defense of Palaemon and its most valuable asset, Post Epsilon. She couldn’t be sure whether forwarding the suggestions to her was a perfunctory act on his part or whether he was legitimately asking for her approval of his ideas. She’d give it in any event, but this time she’d give it politely, with a slight tenor of appreciation. Reward good behavior, if not punish bad….

  Her elbows hit the table as her head dropped into her hands. Dammit!

  She’d spent months preparing for the challenges of a war against an immortal enemy wielding vastly superior numbers. She’d spent years preparing for the challenges of leading an assemblage of disparate fleets headed by disparate personalities. But it had never occurred to her to prepare for the challenges of her dead husband walking back into her life in the middle of both.

  She had no idea what to do, but she was fairly certain she was doing it wrong.

  “Thomas, where is David right now?”

  ‘Commander Solovy is in the Deck 4 Observation Lounge.’

  “Thank you.” She signed off on Bastian’s suggestions then closed the screens, stood and departed the conference room.

  David sat on the edge of one of the couches facing the viewport, arms draped with pensive flair on his thighs. Gazing out at the stars, as he was always apt to be doing. Capriccio Italien played softly through the speakers to complete the haunting picture. A shiver raced through her; it was all too achingly familiar, too painfully impossible and yet, somehow, real.

  She moved across the room to the viewport and shifted around to lean against it and face him. Her arms crossed over her chest in an instinctive attempt at self-preservation. “The David Solovy I knew would never have folded so easily or departed so meekly.”

  He eyed her from beneath a stoic brow. “So it was another test? I’ll be honest, I’m getting goddamn tired of all the tests. I feel like a circus monkey jumping through spinning hoops, and the hoops are on fire. And I’m blindfolded.”

  “No. It wasn’t another
test.”

  He shrugged with one shoulder. “Then you genuinely did want me to leave you alone, and I am…trying to make you happy.”

  “By showing your ass during a critical negotiation and embarrassing me in front of our peers and allies?”

  “I did not say I was doing a good job of it.”

  “David—”

  He held up a hand. “Please. I realize you likely came all this way because you have something you need to say, but let me talk for a minute first.”

  She nodded in silent agreement.

  “Richard offered me some advice earlier this evening, and it’s given me pause. He intended it to help, and maybe it will, if I can manage to get to the other side of this mindfuck. But right now, the mindfuck’s winning.

  “I died in the midst of a puny little spat with a handful of colonies who wanted to thumb their noses at the standing authority. I returned to a world that has gone stark raving mad. It’s as if I woke up to find myself dangling off the edge of a crumbling cliff, one of your hands grasping mine to keep me from falling while your other hand is clinging to nothing but a rock. I can’t find my footing. There’s no footing anywhere to be found.

  “Meanwhile, all I keep hearing is ‘David Solovy would act like so,’ ‘David Solovy wouldn’t say such a thing,’ and on and on. Well, you know what? David Solovy wouldn’t have fallen off the side of the cliff in the first place—not unless it was to save everyone else. But how am I supposed to save anyone when I’ve got nothing but a chasm beneath me and a sweaty, faltering grip on your hand above me?”

  The imagery might be a bit overwrought, but who was she to judge? She’d never come back from the dead. “What makes you think you need to save anyone?”

  “It’s what I died doing. It made me famous, albeit posthumously. A hero for the history texts.”

  “And you’re bitter about that.”

  “The list of things I don’t get to be bitter about is too long to bother contemplating. I was angry at Danilo, or Corradeo, or whatever the krovavyy nakher his name is, because our people sacrificed themselves today to save his people, and he was not…properly appreciative of their sacrifices. One could argue that he didn’t give a fuck about their sacrifices, and I didn’t care for that attitude.”

  She sighed. “The Anadens have a somewhat different perspective on death.”

  “On account of not having to deal with it, sure. Personally, I think their little immortality contrivance has destroyed the value of life for them.”

  “It brought you back.”

  “Thus I reserve the right to be hypocritical on this particular topic.”

  She almost laughed then. Why did he have to be so damn charming? Now she almost laughed at herself, because she’d pondered the very same question the first time she’d met him. “Look, I’m not fond of the man either, but he is the man we must work with. Screaming at him and getting in his face is not the way to gain his cooperation.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “Yes. Understand, I have worked hard to cultivate a team with complementary strengths and talents. Complicated relationship dynamics are at work here, and everyone has a role to play. For evident reasons, I did not plan for the effect your particular strengths and talents were going to have on those dynamics. If you barge in full of righteous anger and bull-in-a-china-shop every tense situation, you risk wrecking more than the furniture. Please promise me you won’t do it again.”

  His throat worked. “I overreacted on account of personally identifying with the cause. Worse, I didn’t warn you first, then I failed to respect your authority in the room. For this I am truly, deeply sorry. I will not do it again.”

  He rubbed at his jaw before casting his eyes upward to meet hers in full. “But what if next time we’re dealing with something more serious? What if the decisions needing to be made are vital to our survival, to the survival of those who serve under you, of people we care for? If it matters enough, I…don’t think I can promise to remain silent, to not speak my mind in a desperate attempt to force the right decisions to be made and the right actions to come about. When lives are on the line, I have to fight—to not do so is contrary to the very core of my being, and I know of no other way to be.”

  Her lips parted, and she slowly smiled. “Now that sounds like the David Solovy I knew.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “And loved, despite any trifling flaws and periodically infuriating traits?”

  Why had she ever believed she could hold out against such an offensive? She had always been helpless to resist his charm. “And love, despite any trifling flaws and periodically infuriating traits.”

  He’d stood and crossed the space between them to reach her before she’d finished the words. A hand rose to hover above her cheek for an instant before pressing into it. “Moya vselennaya, forgive me for causing you hardship, when you already bear such weighty burdens. I should never add to your troubles, only ease them.”

  Her forehead dropped to his—

  Mom, I have news. Good news. I know it’s the middle of the night, but this shouldn’t wait. I’ll be on the Stalwart II in twenty minutes.

  She huffed a weary breath across his cheek. “I believe our daughter is about to pull another rabbit out of a hat. We need to get back to the conference room.”

  “Okay.” He dropped his chin and crushed her lips with his while one hand caressed her neck and the other pressed into the small of her back to draw her closer.

  The heady, dizzying rush of passion that accompanied his touch threatened to overwhelm her. Its sudden arrival, in this moment and, it seemed, at potentially any given moment, felt foreign and unsettling. The notion of it had faded from memory years ago, and she was unprepared for its intensity now, for the overpowering need to get to her quarters and get out of clothes and not let loose of him for hours.

  “David….” She murmured against his mouth, head swimming and skin flushed.

  “I know. Conference room. I just—” he renewed the kiss, as fervently as before, then drew back too soon “—wanted to say that first.”

  21

  AFS STALWART II

  TARACH STELLAR SYSTEM

  * * *

  ALEX ARRIVED WITH SOMETHING OF an entourage in tow: Caleb, of course, but also Devon, Mia and the Anaden, Eren, who hobbled in wearing a bulky brace that encased most of his right leg.

  She nonchalantly tossed a pack on the table and a smile at him and Miriam. “I asked Malcolm, Harper and Lekkas to attend, so if someone could holo them in from their bunks or wherever they are, I’d appreciate it.”

  Mia shook her head. “Malcolm’s not in his bunk, which I mention only because he would be mortified if anyone here thought he wasn’t working.”

  “Right. No need to mention to him how I disparaged his good name. Also, has anybody woken up Richard? Wait, let me guess—he’s not sleeping, either.”

  David chuckled lightly. “Nope. Last I checked, he was pouring through the anarch files in Utility Room #3. I’ll see if he can come up here.”

  Confab in the conference room if you’re available to join us—and Will, if he’s awake.

  Sure, I’m dragging here as it is. What’s up?

  No idea.

  Meanwhile, Miriam was tsking disapprovingly. “Alex, you know I don’t like public surprises. What is all the fuss about?”

  Alex held up the small, translucent Reor slab she was always carrying around. “It’s about this.”

  “That doesn’t tell me much.”

  “Come on, just hang out for a minute until everyone arrives. I promise it’s a good surprise, but I don’t want to have to repeat myself, repeatedly.”

  Miriam stood near the other end of the table from him, so he shot her a pulse rather than whisper in her ear.

  If we’d known it was actually going to be twenty-five minutes….

  She glanced up at him, fire in her eyes and amusement tugging the corners of her lips upward, and he suddenly meant the words rather more than when he’d
sent the pulse. The look in her eyes made him feel…alive. And even when it was hard and raw and dark, as it had been for much of the night, he was of the informed opinion that nothing in any world felt better than being alive. Knowing it in your bones, and seeing it in the face of your beloved.

  Then she dropped her focus back to a screen, because there was work to do.

  As he turned from her, he caught Alex’s eyes darting between him and Miriam. He winked at her, which won him a bright grin in response. Their daughter was doing a commendable job of giving both of them space to figure out how to be, but he knew she worried. If happening to catch them in a good stretch gave her peace of mind, he was glad for it.

  Over the course of the next few minutes holos sprung to life, Richard and Will came in, and the clamor of anticipation took over as everyone got situated. David took a seat a quarter down the table, close to Miriam but implicitly giving her authoritative space. This may be a more informal meeting than some, but he wasn’t going to screw it up. Not for the second time in a single day.

  Miriam cleared her throat, and the chatter quickly died down. “All right, Alex. It is both very late and very early, so try to keep the dramatic flourishes to a minimum. What have you done now?”

  Alex rotated the Reor slab over its edges on the table. “I figured out how to read the data stored on encrypted Reor slabs.”

  “Which ones?”

  “Any one I can get in line of sight of or otherwise discretely identify, I believe.”

  Miriam blinked, then again. “How?”

  Alex held the small slab up high above the table. “The Reor gave me a copy of their universal decryption key.”

  “Today?”

  Alex laughed. “No. A few weeks ago, when Mesme invited Caleb and I to visit one of their sanctuaries. It took me until today to fit all the pieces together and unlock the code.”

  “I’ll gloss right over the implication in what you said that the Reor are sentient entities—for now. Dare I ask why they gave you a copy of their universal decryption key?”