Aurora Rising: The Complete Collection

by G. S. Jennsen

  It took twenty seconds of banging on the door for Brian to open it. Music wafted from the living room, punctuated by high-pitched laughter.

  “You need somethi—?”

  Noah grabbed his shirt by the collar. “Why is somebody trying to kill me?”

  “What? Hey, let go! I don’t know!”

  “Is it because of the explosives job? They were for the Vancouver bombing that just happened, weren’t they?”

  “I told you, I don’t know! Give me a break, man….”

  He tightened his grip instead. “Why did you offer the job to me? Did Nguyen tell you to?”

  “No, man. Calm down, okay?”

  “I am not going to calm down. I got shot at and an innocent girl is dead!”

  Brian’s eyes widened into saucers. “Shit. Look, the request came from higher. They didn’t tell me how much higher.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know.”

  His grip clenched to the point it began choking off Brian’s air.

  “Okay, okay….” Noah loosened his hold a miniscule amount, and Brian gasped in a breath. “I did overhear one thing—I got no idea what it means though.”

  “What.”

  “Something about you needing to do the job cause you’d worked with some guy named Marano.”

  “Caleb? What the hell does Caleb have to do with this?”

  “I got no idea! That’s all I heard, I swear. I didn’t know they would try to take you out, man, I swear.”

  “Fuck.” He let go of the shirt and shoved Brian into the apartment. “Don’t come looking for me, you understand?”

  He spun and stormed down the hallway, pausing once to punch the wall in frustration. He had no choice. He was going to have to bail, and bail now.

  Noah scanned the travel schedule from the relative safety of a group of tourists. It was the middle of the night, but there were always tourists at the spaceport. He wore a cap he’d bought on the way pulled low over his face.

  He’d sent Caleb a brief message a few minutes earlier. Watch your back. Something screwy is up. He’d expand on it later, if he was still alive.

  He couldn’t go where they would expect him to. Aquila was out, as was New Babel and Atlantis. Hell, if it was Zelones after him all the independent worlds were out. Even Romane, tempting though it was.

  No, he needed to go somewhere random. Somewhere which also offered him some cover and the opportunity to make a few credits until things settled down.

  He scanned the list again.

  Messium. Boring as shit and home to more military than he’d like, but it boasted a healthy population to hide in and a robust tech industry to service. And he was technically an Alliance citizen.

  With a sigh he slid away from the crowd and headed for the boarding platform. So much for the party….

  65

  SPACE, NORTH-CENTRAL QUADRANT

  SENECAN FEDERATION SPACE

  * * *

  ALEX WATCHED HIM SLEEP.

  She lay against him, her injured side facing up and unhindered. His arms were wrapped gently around her in slumber. Despite his best efforts otherwise he had dozed off, albeit only after going to prodigious lengths to ensure she was comfortable in the bed and not in pain and had everything she needed. It had been overprotective and unnecessary and rather adorable.

  She had insisted on getting downstairs under her own power, much to his frustration. ‘Bullheaded stubborn,’ he had called her; she hadn’t disputed the point. Her wounds still ached, but she felt as if she had her bearings again. By morning she should be functional. Not one hundred percent by a long shot…but functional.

  He must be beyond exhausted. She knew enough about military-grade cybernetics enhancements to recognize both what they empowered the body to do and the toll they inflicted in the aftermath. Human physiology was being pushed to its very limits. Thus far it was keeping up, but barely.

  She probably should be asleep as well…even if three hours of unconsciousness really should count.

  Instead she watched him sleep. She allowed her gaze to trace the line of his jaw, the curves of his exquisite and talented lips and the angular path of his nose.

  Her brow furrowed up a little. Something about the set of his mouth, the relaxed muscles in his cheeks and neck, the way…

  …then she realized. This was how he looked when it was the two of them—when they were talking or working or not doing much of anything and the mood was easy and comfortable. He appeared more serene and peaceful in slumber of course, but it was unquestionably the same aspect.

  He truly wasn’t manipulating her.

  Endorphins flooded through her body; it was all she could do not to laugh out loud.

  Though she had allowed him into her bed, had shared secrets with him, risked arrest and even her ship for him…a part of her had still assumed he was deceiving her. Whether for some purpose or because it was his nature and he didn’t know any other way to be, when he had no further need of her a switch would flip in his eyes and he would be gone.

  His words and especially his actions told her over and over again he was genuine, yet she couldn’t bring herself to foreclose the possibility the persona he showed to her only represented another face of the chameleon—a chameleon he readily admitted existed.

  A mere hour ago she had thought her fears confirmed, thought the day a part of her had assumed would come had done so earlier than expected. Then, when he had fallen to his knees before her, raw and exposed, every sense she possessed had screamed at her to give in and believe the truth of him.

  But now…why now? Was it simply that now she was ready to trust and searching for a reason to do so?

  In the end it didn’t matter, for it was already done.

  She leaned in and kissed him lightly then settled on the pillow to watch him wake. She shouldn’t have done it; he needed the rest…but she needed him.

  He stirred and shifted. After a few seconds he blinked a couple of times to reveal blurry, unfocused irises; warmth flooded them even before they grew clearer. “Hi….”

  Her perception hadn’t deceived her: the set of his mouth, the line of his jaw, the impression his visage conveyed remained unaltered, enhanced solely by the addition of dazzling irises. She matched his smile. “Hi.”

  “I fell asleep?”

  “Just for a little while.”

  He reached up to stroke her cheek. “You should sleep.”

  “I did, remember? Most of the evening I believe.”

  “I’m not certain that counts.”

  “Well….” Her smile broadened. “I’ll sleep in a bit.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What?”

  She tried her best to look innocent. “Nothing.”

  He drew her closer against him. “It’s not nothing…but since you’re smiling, I’ll just go with it.”

  She responded by kissing the corner of his mouth and snuggling into the crook of his arm.

  They lay there in silence for several minutes, and in truth she might have begun to drift off when he shifted beneath her. She blinked awake and covered any drowsiness by dancing fingertips along the curly hair trailing down his abdomen to his navel.

  He raised an eyebrow at her. “Since we’re hanging out here not sleeping, mind if I ask you something random?”

  “Hmm? Sure.” She propped her chin on his chest to be able to catch his gaze.

  “The name of your ship. I’ve run it through every Russian dialect and half a dozen other languages and encyclopedia compendiums, but no matches. And I was…wondering.”

  She laughed and scooted up onto one elbow. “It wouldn’t match anything.”

  One side of her mouth curled up of its own volition. “So the story goes—I was three years old, far too young to remember it with any clarity—my dad and I were stargazing in the backyard one night. I babbled away, asking dozens of wacky questions only a child could think of about the stars and ships and what space was like. He was humoring me, like he always did.


  “And I uttered some nonsensical proclamation like, ‘One day I’m gonna be a star.’ And he…he hugged me and said, ‘Na den’ vy siyat’ s snova siyaniye chem vse svetilo v nebesnyy nebesa,’ which roughly means, ‘One day you will shine with more radiance than every star in the celestial heavens.’”

  He chuckled. “Quite a mouthful for a little girl.”

  “I know, right? He had a definite flair for the dramatic. I understood ‘na den’ vy,’ common words and all, but I’d never heard the rest before and didn’t yet have a full eVi with a translator. I looked up at him, my face scrunched up in a child’s perplexity, and tried to repeat it. But I stumbled over the ‘vs’ and ‘sv’ phonetics, since English doesn’t often use them. I garbled out ‘siya…ssn…niye…v nebe…ne…,’ stopped, went back and tried again and still totally mangled it.

  “Finally I stared at him in desperation and whispered, ‘siya-…ne-…?’ then waited for him to fill in the rest. He laughed, hugged me tighter and said, ‘Siyane is perfect, sweetheart. My little star shining brightly.’”

  She swallowed away the lump in her throat. “And it sort of became his pet name for me. He didn’t use it a lot, but whenever he was acting particularly affectionate or melodramatic he’d whip it out for added impact.”

  She shrugged in his arms. “So I guess the best way to put it is…the name represents an affirmation that I’m trying to live up to his belief in what I could be.”

  He pulled her yet closer, careful not to press on her wounds, and kissed the top of her head. She wished she was able to see his expression, but he held her securely against him.

  “I’d wager if he were here, he’d say you’re doing a hell of a lot more than trying.”

  “In fact…” his embrace loosened “…that’s what it is, isn’t it?”

  “What’s what?”

  “What you do.”

  She regarded him curiously. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “How you find things others cannot. How you somehow knew the TLF wave wasn’t coming from the pulsar, and discovered its origin point. How you stared into space and saw where to find a tiny, cold, silent star buried deep within nebular clouds.”

  She bit her lower lip, her gaze drifting away from him. After a moment she rested her head on his chest. “It’s not magic or anything. It’s simply…the universe has rules. Even the exceptions obey the rules. Though so immensely complex it appears to most like chaos, in truth the universe is ordered and structured and perfect.

  “More than that, I understand the structure. It makes sense to me. I look out into the void and I see the interconnections and relationships—the gravitational pull of a supergiant subtly tugging at a stellar system kiloparsecs away, the excess glow along the edges of ionized gas as it collides with an H I region, the absence which marks a dark star or a gray hole.”

  His hand wound leisurely through her hair, reassuring her she wasn’t crazy, encouraging her to continue.

  “And since I understand the way things must be, when something seems out of place, wrong or merely odd…I can recognize the reality of it. The hidden object or event or force which brings space back into alignment with the rules of the universe.”

  She lifted her head to crinkle her nose up at him. “But I don’t get what any of this has to do with the name of my ship.”

  He brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. “When we were at the center of Metis and you were looking for the pulsar’s companion, you stared out the viewport and whispered, ‘Come on you little star, shine for me.’”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “I don’t…. Well, I suppose it does kind of feel as though that’s what happens, but…. Even if it’s true, the stars do the shining. Not me.”

  He drew her up his body until his lips met hers. They were soft and gentle, like the ocean breeze on a rare warm Pacifica summer afternoon. She’d never imagined a man capable of such violence, of such intensity, could also be capable of the extraordinary tenderness he showed toward her.

  He pulled back a fraction to meet her eyes and gaze into her soul. “Are you sure?”

  66

  EARTH

  VANCOUVER, EASC HEADQUARTERS

  * * *

  MIRIAM DID ALL HER STARING in disbelieving horror at the unimaginable landscape of destruction from the transport as it circled twice overhead.

  She had seen destruction before. During the First Crux War she had witnessed firsthand the aftermath of more than one battle. But that war had never come close to reaching Earth. To reaching home. This, though…she had spent the last fourteen years of her life working in the building which now lay crumbled in smoldering ruins.

  By the time she stepped off the transport she was instructing on-scene EASC staff who were ambulatory to meet in the primary conference room in Administration in twenty minutes and generating a queue for the intervening minutes.

  She used the limited moments to review the updated list of deceased and missing and set up a routine to customize the condolence notifications. Next she tracked down the head of emergency response and received a personal status report, implemented additional security measures beyond the hastily erected checkpoints, and lastly located Richard and give him a quick, and private, hug.

  Now she stood at the front of the conference room and regarded the gathered staff members. Many were covered in dust and debris and several still bore streaks of blood.

  She gave the room a genuinely sympathetic smile, an expression most had never seen from her. “I won’t take much of your time. I recognize you have a great many things you want and need to do. I imagine for some of you this includes helping in the rescue efforts—but we have emergency responders from the entire Cascades region on-scene, so I ask you to let them do their jobs and instead focus on helping to restore order.

  “For those of you who had offices in the Headquarters building, we will be taking over the 14th–20th floors of the Logistics building for the immediate future. This means most of you will have to double-up. It’s a necessary and hopefully temporary situation. Submit your request to this address—” she sent the new account to the staff “—and you will receive a space assignment.”

  She paused, pursing her lips for a breath. “Take what time you need to recover your files and anything else you’re able to salvage, but unfortunately there is still a war going on—and make no mistake, our adversary will be all too happy to take advantage of our distraction in the aftermath of the attack. Therefore, I must ask you to return to your regular duties as soon as you are capable of doing so. We have doubtlessly lost a number of good people and good friends today, but we cannot allow this to make us weak. It’s what the enemy wants. Instead, let it make us stronger.

  “Things are bound to be a bit chaotic for the next few days. Route any problems or special requests to the ‘issues’ queue at the same address. Also, please monitor the news updates at the address. Important information, changes and new procedures will be posted there.”

  She nodded sharply. “That’s everything for now. Let’s get to work.”

  As they began to disperse she grabbed her bottle of water and quickly exited. She did not have the time to entertain questions or desperate inquiries regarding loved ones. The fatalities list was available for everyone to examine and she possessed no further information. Many of them would require comfort and that above all was something she could not provide.

  In front of an audience she managed to perform well enough; one-on-one, gazing into broken eyes, however…. In the long run comfort was a hollow, shallow lie, and she simply couldn’t find the will to pretend otherwise.

  She headed down the hall toward her next meeting, with the military police commander. It would be followed by meetings with the admin managerial staff, the transport supervisors, preliminary planning with the maintenance and construction chief, another update from the head of emergency response, and the first of what was certain to be numerous
press conferences.

  She wouldn’t be seeing a bed for quite some time.

  Some five hours later she snuck away for a moment of respite in the small gardens between Administration and Logistics. The thermos of coffee warmed her hands and the optic fibers embedded in the pavement lit the path beneath her feet against the late night darkness, though the glare from the enormous floodlights placed by the rescue crews added a sallow glow to the sky.

  The death toll already stood at upwards of two thousand and was likely to double by the morning. While rescue efforts continued, the simple fact was the detonations had been scorching and violent. The few who survived the initial blasts had found themselves with no way down or out before the fire or the pervasive smoke reached them.

  Even five thousand dead represented a mere blip on the scale of historic disasters. But these were the best, the most dedicated and patriotic of humanity. They were also the people essential to managing the bureaucratic intricacies of fighting a war. An indelicate and unfortunate reality.

  Thousands upon thousands of troops needed to be moved around, assigned in a strategic yet orderly fashion and supplied with millions of munitions and foodstuffs and bunks. Important assets needed to be protected while blind spots minimized. Every person and resource needed to be utilized in an efficient and optimized manner.

  War was a complicated affair when spread across the galaxy; it always had been. This she knew all too well.

  “Director of Logistics for the entire North American Region? Miri, that’s wonderful.”

  The moonlight shone through the window to transform his beautiful eyes to liquid silver as he grinned at her. She lay facing him in the bed, snuggled up so close their noses almost touched. “Maybe.”

  “With a war on it will be an enormous responsibility and even more work….”

  She frowned. “You don’t think I can do it?”

  “Naoborot dushen’ka, I think you will be spectacular at it. If I possessed your brilliant mind I might get to stay on Earth in a prestigious job, too.”