He fully understood the size and scope of the enemy force which awaited. The power of the force he couldn’t say, as the type or size of their weaponry remained unknown. But one thing he had learned over the years was every adversary had a weakness. Fortified ships were slow and unwieldy; small ones were fragile. Bombs could be disarmed, EM attacks shielded. In this case, enormous ships simply made for enormous targets—not that he intended on shooting at them. Not this mission anyway.
“Recon 1, Recon 2, report. See anything yet?”
He was met by silence. Sometimes their shielding was a little too good. “Comms, can you establish a connection with either of the recon units or their pilots?”
“Negative, Major. Recon units are not responding, nor are they showing up on scans.”
Well, they wouldn’t. “Keep trying. All ships, prepare to advance at 0.5 impulse. Stay inside The Bubble. I repeat, stay inside The Bubble.”
Acknowledged.
The Aegea and its complement of electronic warfare ships flew silently into the pillar of nebular clouds. The viewport revealed only a bright yellow haze, thick as the fog rolling through Cove Bay when he was a child visiting his grandparents on the Scottish coast. He hadn’t been to Earth since the First Crux War. If galactic events continued on their current path, he may never see Cove Bay again…which seemed a shame.
A bank of screens filled with broad-spectrum sensor readings created the illusion of sight as they advanced. The screens displayed the positions of the other ships (minus the Recon units), the locations of the pulsar, its companion white dwarf and the location of the portal, as well as a plethora of scientific data beyond his expertise.
“Major, we should clear the densest clouds in another thirty seconds or so.”
“All ships, slow to 0.2 impulse. Again, stay inside The Bubble.”
Acknowl—
“Sir, I’m picking up a—”
The last thought Major Fergusson had as the blazing white pulse incinerated the Aegea and the rest of the 2nd GOI Platoon was that the viewport’s spectrum filters really needed to be upgraded, because this was just too damn bright.
39
SIYANE
SPACE, SOL SYSTEM
* * *
ALEX SPUN THE COCKPIT CHAIR around when she heard him come up the stairs. He wore a smile; she returned it in full. If he had taken her retreat the night before as a snub, he wasn’t showing it. They had quickly fallen back into a comfortable, easy, mildly flirtatious routine this morning. She was glad for it.
It wasn’t the only reason she felt rather relaxed, all things considered. While normally she retained at most a vague, mild attachment to Earth as ‘home,’ in the current circumstances she had been relieved to enter the Sol System. Yes, it was home, but it was also the best defended stellar system in existence. If Earth’s defenses weren’t enough to keep it safe, nowhere would be safe.
“Final clearance granted. Looks like your alter ego ID held up. Ready to see the homeland?”
“I’ve seen Earth, Alex.”
“In vids.”
“In full-sensory overlay.”
“Still not the same.” She shrugged teasingly. “You’ll see.”
When they exited the Northeast 1 Pacific Corridor they were above the Gulf of Alaska. She veered south-southeast and slowed the angle of descent to run slightly off the coast.
The waters began a deep cerulean, but shifted to a paler cyan as they approached land. It being late fall, the massive glaciers had already begun descending from the mountain peaks toward the shore. Two icebergs were mid-calving from a glacier and the water was sprinkled with free-floating chunks of ice.
She watched him out of the corner of her eye as discreetly as she could manage. He had doubtless seen many worlds and more than a few wonders. He wouldn’t be easy to impress…but it didn’t hurt to try.
His gaze was riveted out the viewport, but his expression in profile appeared scrupulously neutral except for the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips—
—he sucked in a gasp, and the formerly neutral expression lit up in delight. She followed where his gaze led. A school of five orcas had broken the surface in dramatic fashion as they pushed through the ice slush and into the open waters. They danced and dove—then the largest one leapt out of the water, spinning through the air to land on its dorsal fin and send a cascade of frothing water over its companions.
She gave up watching him discreetly and grinned. “They were once nearly extinct. It took a lot of work to bring them back into the wild.” She paused, simply enjoying his delight for a moment. “Seneca doesn’t have oceanic wildlife?”
He shook his head. “What we call oceans are…well, not like this. Only about forty percent of Seneca is covered in water. It’s a young planet, rich in metals due to the active stellar cluster, but indigenous species are limited and tend to be small. This is amazing.”
Her attention drifted to the view once more. “I’ve always thought so.”
The terrain soon gave way to tundra followed by the coastal forests of the numerous islands dotting the coastline. In minutes the northern edge of Vancouver Island came into sight; beyond it the midday sun reflected brilliantly off the first of the skyscrapers which stretched from North Vancouver to Portland. It was a beautiful fall day in the Pacific Northwest.
She swung to the east, dropped into an airlane and headed down the Straight toward the spaceport. He leaned against the half-wall and draped his arms across his chest. “Nice city you’ve got here.”
“This?” She scoffed with feigned nonchalance. “This is nothing. The Northeastern Seaboard Metropolis stretches for over 1,000 kilometers along the east coast. But it is the largest metropolitan area in settled space, so it would.”
“Uh-huh. You done showing off now?”
“You’ll just have to stick around and find out.” Oops, that might have come out a little differently than she had intended….
His voice became both softer and deeper in tenor. “Okay.” Yep, sure did.
She chose to ignore it while slowing and banking toward the rooftop docking platform.
EACV-7A492X to ORSC: Arrival sequence initiation requested Bay L-19
ORSC to EACV-7A492X: Arrival sequence initiated Bay L-19
ORSC to EACV-7A492X: Arrival clearance window 14 seconds Docking Lane 27
She eased in and lowered the ship to the roof. The clamps grasped the ship with a gentle clang.
The process was all automated for the next few moments as the lift descended to the L level and rotated to her private hangar bay. The force field shimmered as they passed through it, re-solidifying once they were on the other side. A small jolt and the clamps locked into place in the hangar floor.
She shut off the engine and toed around to face him. “Shall we—” A blinking red light flashed in the corner of her eVi; she frowned but accepted the livecomm.
“Alexis, dear, I’m afraid the Defense Minister has arrived and requested a personal briefing. We’ll need to push your meeting until 1430.”
“Oh, for fucks sake, Mom.”
“Now, I—”
“Was there something about ‘urgent’ and ‘vital importance’ and ‘grave threat’ and ‘alien yebanyy superdreadnoughts’ that you didn’t understand?”
“Of course not. But I have many responsibilities which impact the safety and security of the entire Alliance, and we are at war, and some—”
“You mean you have a Very Important Job? I hadn’t noticed.”
“There’s no reason for you to take such a tone with me. I can’t exactly keep the Defense Minister waiting.”
“I’d keep the Defense Minister waiting, if it was important enough. Probably even if it wasn’t.”
“Alexis.”
“Fine. 1430. Don’t postpone it any further.” She cut the link and pursed her lips, grimacing at the effort of not punching the wall or spewing forth a tirade of expletives. She realized Caleb was looking her expectantly, an eyebrow raised
in question. Unsurprisingly, as he would have only heard one side of the conversation.
She glared at him, though not at him. “There’s been a small delay. Let’s get some lunch.”
40
NEW BABEL
INDEPENDENT COLONY
* * *
“YES, I UNDERSTAND WE NEED a larger production facility. But these things take time to build. Besides, I’m not happy with the chosen location. I don’t enjoy the thought of flying halfway across the planet should I decide to pay a visit.”
Olivia regarded the holos above her desk. “It will be cheaper and faster to simply seize an existing facility for ourselves.”
The man in the left holo frowned. “It would mean bloodshed to do so….”
“Obviously it would mean bloodshed—inevitably everything always means bloodshed, it’s merely a question of timing. If this war generates the level of chaos I expect it to, we need to position ourselves quickly. Hence, bloodshed now rather than bloodshed later.”
Her nod foreclosed any further discussion. “It’s decided. John, I need a list of the top four candidates in two hours. I’ll arrange a team and the post-op additional security. That’s all for now.”
Not waiting for their sign off, she gestured away the holos, stood and stretched. She needed—
Her eVi indicated a priority incoming message. It was encrypted and coded, but Marcus wanted to speak, now if possible.
She scowled at nothing in particular. She didn’t care to create an impression with him that she was at his beck and call, lest it set a dangerous precedent. On the other hand, events were moving rapidly and significant wealth was at stake. With a roll of her eyes she went over to the QEC room.
She had met Marcus almost fifty years earlier—though that hadn’t been his name at the time—when she ran Zelones operations in South America. He had risen to the top of an upstart gang on the streets of Rio, one which had begun to impinge upon clearly demarcated Zelones interests. After a series of escalating threats did nothing to stop the encroachments, she had sent a squad of her best enforcers to wipe them out.
Marcus and his lieutenants killed the entire squad. He sent her a message to let her know of this—despite the fact he shouldn’t possess her contact information. He then proceeded to come to her headquarters, kill, incapacitate or evade the entire building’s security detail and her personal guards, and stroll into her office.
For one of the few times in her life, she had been genuinely surprised when he walked in. He couldn’t have been more than fifteen years old, scrawny and gangly in secondhand threads. But the sharp, dynamic sea-green irises regarding her shone bright with intelligence, cunning and most of all confidence.
Her personal weaponry had not been so advanced then as it was now, but she pointed a quite lethal customized Daemon at him while she calmly inquired what she could do for him.
“I want out.”
“Done. You’ve proven your point. Walk out the door, and no one will stop you. Keep walking, and no one will come after you. You have my word.”
“You misunderstand, Ms. Montegreu. I want a new life—a new identity and a new background, one which is gold-plated and foolproof. I want fifty thousand credits and a ticket to Miami and your vow you will never speak a word of this conversation to another soul.”
She arched an eyebrow and rested against the front of her desk, though the gun remained in her hand. “And why ever should I agree to do such favors for you?”
A smile crept across his face, more chilling than any she had seen on the cruelest, most malicious killers. A shiver ran down her spine…but at least now she knew what she was negotiating with.
“Because then I will be in your debt. And at some time in the future, I expect that will be worth a great deal.”
She had conceded to the transaction, arranged everything he had asked for and not seen a trace of him for more than thirty years. Then one day his face showed up on the news feed. It seemed he was being named the youngest ever Deputy Minister of the Justice Department for the North American Region.
She wouldn’t have recognized him, so transformed was his appearance, but for the memorable sea-green eyes—and the name she had given him.
It was another fifteen years before he reached out to her and, in due course, offered her the opportunity to collect on an old debt.
He was turning around as he shimmered into existence on the QEC holo, a charming smile well in place when he faced her. “Olivia. My apologies for the short notice. Are the materials on their way to Earth yet?”
She likely looked far less charming, and didn’t especially care. “Are you trying to micromanage my end of the operation, Marcus?”
“Not at all, Olivia dear. I do have a good reason for asking.”
“I certainly hope so. The answer is no. The ‘materials’ aren’t exactly the kind of items you leave sitting around on Earth for too long.”
“Good. An opportunity has presented itself—to kill two birds with one stone, as the old saying goes.”
“An opportunity?”
“A fortuitous coincidence. I need you to route at least a portion of the materials through a specific individual if possible. Ideally, have him be the one to deliver them to the necessary party on Earth. He’s a smuggler and tech dealer on Pandora.”
She glanced at the information he sent. “He doesn’t work for me, not even indirectly. It’ll take some doing. This is last minute, Marcus, and I don’t care for surprises. Again I ask—are you trying to micromanage my end of the operation?”
“Again, no. This is a unique opportunity which has only just arisen.”
“Fine. Dare I venture to ask why?”
“The details aren’t important from your perspective and would require far too long to explain—but it will help ensure the blame is placed appropriately and the war continues unabated. That is what you want, Olivia, is it not?”
Of course it was what she wanted. The greatest threat to her business was and had always been order. Crime flourished in the friction generated by conflict, and the First Crux War had carved a landscape rife with fractures. While the Alliance and Senecan governments jockeyed for leverage, independent worlds were able to grow and thrive in the spaces in between, like weeds in sidewalk cracks.
Prior to a week ago, relations between Earth and Seneca had been steadily thawing. Left unaltered, mere inertia would eventually lead to true peace. The independent worlds would be ‘persuaded’ to return under the umbrella of a benevolent government. The spaces in between would vanish.
It would take decades, perhaps even half a century. But she would live for another hundred fifty years; decades mattered quite a lot to her. So yes, she wanted to alter the field of play.
She gave him a miniscule nod. “Very well. I’ll see what I can make happen, but time is short. No promises.”
“I understand. Do what you can.”
41
EARTH
VANCOUVER, EASC HEADQUARTERS
* * *
EARTH ALLIANCE STRATEGIC COMMAND was not nearly so pompous and decadent as Senecan propaganda painted it. Oh, it was certainly shiny and polished and self-important, yet there were no spotlights sweeping across the sky or garish colors decorating the walls or waterfalls spilling champagne. At its core it remained a military installation. The walls and floors gleamed brighter and the artwork appeared showier than what was found in Senecan government facilities; he imagined the cafeteria and break rooms stocked posher amenities as well. Still, the difference was one of degrees…and not so many degrees at that.
It wasn’t as though Caleb was shocked or even particularly surprised. No childhood illusions were being shattered as they paused at the security scanner and Alex authorized for him—which he did have to stifle a chuckle at.
Technically speaking, she had just committed high treason against the Earth Alliance government. But she didn’t view the world in such a way. To her, there were good people and bad people, and most of the rest weren�
�t worth classifying. He had—he hoped—qualified for the ‘good people’ side of the equation, and that was the end of it. Government intrigue and games of espionage simply didn’t impress her, something he found both amazing and delightful.
And while his training, rules of engagement, experience and the teachings of his superiors and his mentor all told him he should take full advantage of this opportunity and record, image and hack every item he could find or see…he didn’t intend on abusing her trust. He remained observant, but observation would be the extent of his espionage. Besides, he had a mission.
“Capt—Ms—Solovy. Ma’am. The Admiral is expecting you. I’ll inform Colonel Navick you’ve arrived.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant.”
Alex moved away from the reception desk to roll her eyes at him then grasp his hand and pull him toward a fish tank along one wall of the lobby. He instinctively sucked in a breath at the sensation of her hand in his. They had still only touched skin-to-skin a few times, the last one being the intimate moment the night before. Her palm was cooler than his, but not cold. It felt natural and confident—much like her, here.
She believed she didn’t belong in this environment, saw herself as an outsider. Yet she strode through the halls as though she owned the place, and so unaffectedly so that he had no doubt she didn’t know it. It merely reflected her inherent self-assurance and sense of worth, which oozed out of her every pore. It was impressive to witness.
“Richard….” Her hand left his, and he immediately felt the sting of its absence. He turned to see her embrace a man in BDUs save for an officer insignia on his shoulder. The embrace was warm and friendly to a degree he’d never seen her be. Until now he hadn’t realized she was to some extent still always on edge around him. Seeing her this relaxed and at ease jarred him.
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