Aurora Rising: The Complete Collection

by G. S. Jennsen

  “You’re gorgeous in a painter’s smock.”

  Her grousing against him was simply adorable, but he shouldn’t push it. “Yes, you can change first.”

  The gang was, in reality, merely a group of friends he’d known since university. They had engaged in some truly extreme stunts during school and still liked to think they were the best and most outrageous hackers north of Angeles. While a few had joined him in acquiring respectable and even impressive jobs, most couldn’t accept the rigidity and rules which accompanied such employment and still lived on the edges of mainstream society.

  They met, as they had regularly for the last several years, in a large oval booth in the back of Kellan’s Pier Pub. Sayid had a pitcher of beer waiting by the time he and Emily arrived, and they eased into the booth as though it was a second home. Which it kind of was.

  “Hey, Devon, why’d you change out of your officer’s uniform? I bet you look so sweet and cuddly in brass buttons and shiny shoes.”

  “Yeah, screw you, man.” But he was laughing as he poured a drink.

  They spouted the usual small talk until the others arrived. The reality was his current job drastically limited the potential topics of conversation, but the pub buzzed with banter and music and sports on the screens to fill the void.

  After everyone settled in, another pitcher was delivered and the waiter had departed, he activated a privacy shield. Not only did it prevent anyone from overhearing them, it also muffled the crowd noise to a low background level.

  “So, you guys want to have a little fun?”

  “What? This isn’t fun?”

  He shot a smirk at Ramon. Sarcasm rolled off Ramon’s tongue like it had somewhere it needed to be.

  Petra emptied a shot of tequila into her mug. “Money?”

  “Does it involve nudity?”

  Devon snorted as Emily launched a volley of peanuts across the table at Mycroft. “No it does not involve nudity, though if you prefer to lounge at your deck with your package swinging free, I won’t judge. No money, either. Now can we be serious for two seconds? I realize it’s a challenge on the order of scaling Kilimanjaro without gear, but can we try?”

  He ignored two separate obscene gestures directed at him and reached in the pouch at his waist to remove six small optical disks. He spread the disks discreetly in front of him, then passed them out until everyone had one. “Everything is ready on the disks, so you don’t need to manipulate the data.”

  “What fun is that?”

  “I’m getting to the fun. We’re going to leak the information on those disks to every major news organization in the galaxy, regardless of affiliation. In fact, the more affiliations the better.”

  Indications of varying interest followed. Ramon refilled his mug. “No problem, but still waiting on the fun part.”

  “I told you, I’m getting there. We need to spoof the source so it appears to originate from eight separate locations, none of which are in the Cascades and most of which aren’t on Earth. We need to include a few independent colonies, too.”

  Petra whistled. “Now you’re talking. One question though—what’s on the disks?”

  He took a sip of beer and gazed around the table. “Ready for this? Evidence someone inside the Alliance government or military falsified multiple official records in order to frame that Senecan spy for the EASC Headquarters bombing.”

  “Dude. Who found the evidence?”

  “Excuse me, is there any doubt?”

  Mycroft made a show of being unimpressed. “Somebody’s all high on his horse. Listen, I’m not exactly a fan of Seneca….”

  Sayid, who had been quiet up until now per his usual, jumped in. “Me either, but I’m about a gazillion times less of a fan of our military. I’m in.”

  “Damn straight. I’m in, too.” Petra’s copper and citron glyphs lit up in a visual demonstration of her enthusiasm.

  “Wait—does this mean our government blew up its own Prime Minister? I totally bet they did.”

  “Hell if I know, Sayid. The Orbital explosion happened all of thirty seconds ago. Is everyone in? Speak now or get your ass kicked later.” Devon observed each of them in turn, making certain he received agreement from those in attendance.

  Ramon tossed his disk in the air, palmed it and dropped it in a pocket. “When does it need to go out?”

  “First thing tomorrow morning, as close to simultaneously as you miscreants can manage.”

  Ramon slammed his mug down on the table for theatrical effect. “What are we sitting around here drinking beer for? Let’s go fuck up this war.”

  23

  ROMANE

  INDEPENDENT COLONY

  * * *

  MIA STRODE ACROSS THE LENGTH of her living room. Reversed course. Her sharp pivots at the windows and the archway hinted at violence, as if the force of the movement might trigger a new option on the next traversal.

  She wanted to run. The desperate, scrappy child within screamed in her head to run just as she had twice before. Running to Romane so many years ago had worked out, hadn’t it? She could run again. Start over again. Find a new home.

  But this was her home. She had built a life here, to a far greater extent than she had ever imagined possible. She was not an abused slum kid beholden to her criminal father and thug brother on New Orient. Nor was she a starving thief on Pandora. Not anymore.

  She was Mia Requelme—a successful, wealthy businesswoman. She had crafted and nurtured a sterling reputation, not to mention assets, employees, professional colleagues and friends. She had risen above a troubled past and rotten start at life to build a new one. One she proudly called her own.

  This was her home and she would not run again.

  There was still the unfortunate reality her home was likely to come under attack by an alien armada within weeks, if not days. It was a problem.

  But if she wasn’t going to run, she also wasn’t going to stand frozen in panic and end up a helpless victim. If she wasn’t going to run, she needed to help.

  The pacing slowed to a stop with a ponderous sigh; in a metaphysical sense it carried on it her acceptance of the consequences of her actions moving forward.

  She pulsed Jonathan. As a loyal employee who was barely more than a kid, she felt like he was her responsibility.

  Listen. You need to leave. Go visit your family on Demeter.

  What? Why? Is something wrong?

  I can’t go into the details. Please, for your safety, get off Romane for a while. Go west—the farther west the better. And maybe take your girlfriend along.

  Mia…but what about the gallery? You can’t—

  It’s not a problem. You have paid vacation time remaining. Take it, Jonathan. For me.

  I…okay. I don’t understand, but okay.

  Next she went upstairs and packed an emergency bag. She needed to be prepared for anything. Then she changed from the yoga pants and tank into a charcoal pantsuit and wound her hair back into a sleek ponytail at the nape of her neck. Lastly she went to the safe in her office and removed the disk Caleb had left her.

  “Meno, I’m heading out for a few hours. Message me if you discover new data matching the parameters.”

  She couldn’t exactly wear the interface out in public and it was too warm for a turtleneck, so she’d lack a mental connection with the Artificial. But she had granted it the ability to send and receive messages from and to her. It would have to do for now.

  Certainly, Mia. I will exercise discretion.

  She waited fifteen minutes to be seen, which was far less time than expected. When shown into what was an objectively spectacular office she shook the governor’s hand warmly. “Governor Ledesme, thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice. I realize your time is extremely valuable as well as limited.”

  “It came with the job description, I believe. What can I do for you, Ms. Requelme?”

  “I’m afraid I’m here to make your life far more complicated, ma’am.”

  Madison
Ledesme regarded her with detached curiosity. They weren’t friends, of course. The governor knew her because of her service on several business councils, and because the spaceport was a significant enough interest for the typically hands-off government to ensure it ran smoothly and cleanly. They had spoken half a dozen times but never in private.

  “Given my planet is caught between two warring superpowers while its economy is being crushed beneath the weight of a blockade, I find it somewhat difficult to believe you can accomplish such a feat.”

  “As would I. Nevertheless. There’s something you need to know: the colonies of Gaiae, Zetian, Andromeda, Gaelach, New Riga, Lycaon, Karelia, New Orient, Edero…and now Messium have gone dark.”

  “What does that mean? What are you telling me?”

  “It means no transmissions from those locations are registering on the exanet. It means any communications to persons or places on or in the space above those locations are undeliverable.”

  “How do you know?”

  Mia almost cringed, but years of experience enabled her to squelch it. “I can’t reveal my sources. I’m sorry.”

  Ledesme considered the response. “I’ll overlook that for the moment. A widespread exanet disruption of such magnitude in eastern space? The scientists tell us it’s impossible.”

  “And it should be. Regardless, I also know the cause and you are not going to like it.”

  The governor chuckled. It pealed surprisingly warmly given the stress she must be feeling. Mia had always found her naturally personable, if always professional. “Don’t drag this out, Ms. Requelme. I have a meeting with the Utility Director and a lunch with several of your unhappy business colleagues half an hour later, both of which are bound to be unpleasant.”

  Mia’s eyes dipped to contemplate the onyx and pearl marbled floor. It was going to sound ridiculous coming out of her mouth, so it was a good thing she had proof. “Aliens. An invading alien armada of mammoth size and power, in fact.”

  A politician’s mask descended over the woman’s face. “I don’t have to time to entertain irrational ramblings or—”

  Mia opened her hand, palm up. The disk rested upon it. It had been provided to her in confidence, but Caleb was gone and humanity was under attack. “Governor, please take one minute to examine the contents of this disk. You will see I am in no way crazy or irrational.”

  The look in the governor’s eyes suggested the line between Mia getting thrown out of the office and the woman reviewing the data was a thin one indeed. Mia couldn’t say what finally tipped the scales. The instincts of a skilled politician, perhaps.

  The governor took the disk from her and went to her desk to drop it in a reader. Mia stood too far away to read the information displaying on a small screen at the desk, but she didn’t need to read it. She had reviewed the contents countless times, to the point she now enjoyed nightmares starring the images. Instead she waited.

  Three minutes later Ledesme tapped the control panel on her desk. “Hannah, cancel my appointments for the rest of the day. I realize that. Cancel them.” She stood, leaving a stark visual of an alien superdreadnought on the screen.

  “Who else has seen this? If we were to get this information to the Alliance and Federation governments, they would end this absurd war and—”

  “They are already aware of the threat. They have been for more than two weeks.”

  “And yet they continue to shoot at one another? Imbeciles!” Her composure broke for only a breath, revealing a person appalled at the failings of her fellow humans and frustrated at how those failings made her job so very difficult.

  Then the brief reveal vanished behind a stoic countenance. “How exactly is it you have come by such information when no one in my government has discovered it?”

  “I know the people who recorded the data. They entrusted me with the disk, in case—well, in case the other governments didn’t get their act together in time.”

  “These people would be…?”

  No sense hiding it now. The names were sure to be familiar to her, because they were now familiar to the entire galaxy. “Caleb Marano and Alexis Solovy. I helped them elude the authorities and escape after the accusations against them surfaced, because they are innocent of the bombing and their lives were in danger.”

  Ledesme pondered her silently for several seconds, her thoughts her own behind shuttered eyes. “You are a most interesting woman, Ms. Requelme. I think I’d like to discover more about what lies beneath your public façade. But that’s for another time.” She stared out the window, and Mia chose not to respond to the remark or otherwise interrupt her reverie.

  “So the Alliance and the Federation continue to fight a war despite being aware of an imminent alien invasion and try to imprison the people who warned them of it. Yet people wonder why Romane is so fiercely independent.” She turned back to Mia, her face now animated by resolve. “How long ago did Messium go offline?”

  “Approximately six hours ago.”

  “I no longer want to know how you’re obtaining your information. The other colonies are tiny but an attack on Messium will upend the entire galaxy. Still, we can’t wait for that to happen. I don’t suppose your friends or whatever other mysterious sources you enjoy have any ideas on how to defend against these aliens?”

  “My sources are working on it. But no, not as of yet. I was thinking about the problem, however. Romane has some exceedingly brilliant scientific and engineering minds as citizens, as well as some exceedingly wealthy ones—arguably the largest concentration of both outside of Earth. Bring them in. Give them this data and lock them in a room. Figuratively speaking.

  “If there are ideas to be generated, our engineers are the mostly likely to do it. Use the ideas from the engineers and the money from the entrepreneurs to strengthen our defenses as much as practicable and put the arrays on alert. Plus you might want to begin considering an evacuation.”

  “Tell the public? It will cause a panic that will cause loss of life.”

  Mia nodded. “Probably so. But you’re right. Messium will change everything. The Alliance won’t be able to keep whatever is happening there a secret, so I suspect we’ll be facing a panic within the next eight hours in any event. Wouldn’t it be better to break the news ourselves and take advantage of the opportunity to assert authority and lead?”

  “You’d make a decent politician, Ms. Requelme. I concur.” The governor took a deep breath. “I need to get the aforementioned geniuses and business magnates in here first, lest they bolt at the news. I’ll also alert our security force and give them time to prepare. Then I’ll contact the media.”

  The woman circled back behind her desk and began typing on her control panel. “You should get downstairs to the main conference room. I’ll send two assistants to help you pull together whatever you require.”

  “I’m not sure I follow. Why do I need assistants?”

  “Because you’re leading the strategy session.”

  24

  PORTAL PRIME

  UNCHARTED SPACE

  * * *

  THE TRANSITION FROM STANDING AMONG STARS to standing in a tech lab was a jarring one for Alex. Also claustrophobia-inducing; though the room was by most standards cavernous, the walls pressed in on her from what felt like centimeters away.

  So tiny, so miniscule were the spaces where people spent the days and nights of their lives.

  The long walls of the lab contained large server racks and dozens of fiber cables running among them. The hardware architecture appeared archaic, even ancient.

  This was not happening now. This had not happened in her lifetime.

  Two men and a woman sat at a rectangular table at one end of the room.

  “I assure you, Administrator, the Synthetic Neural Net—we’re calling it a ‘Synnet’ for convenience—is more than capable of taking over day-to-day operations of the University’s facilities. It has internalized all the rules and regulations and historical records and has analyzed the fu
nctioning of numerous other campuses. We’ve run tens of thousands of scenarios. The result is an efficiency increase of 22-35% in not only power usage but also ancillary costs, as well as an anticipated 12-16% improvement in student satisfaction.”

  The older man nodded thoughtfully. “What about security operations?”

  “All operational decisions will remain with the Security Department. If given access to the procedural mechanisms, however, the Synnet will be able to execute on those decisions with far greater speed than our current disparate computer systems. The faster reaction time can help save lives in a crisis.”

  The younger of the two men had been silent up to this point, but now he leaned forward in an assertive pose, a confident smile adorning his face…

  …and she realized she knew who he was.

  She looked up at the ceiling. “You don’t have to show me this—I know what this is. I already know what happens next.”

  The scene shifted in a blur so disorienting she fought back nausea.

  When the world regained clarity, she was on a lawn, the sort of quad-style park universities had included for thousands of years. The grass was a perfect emerald green, so vivid in color she felt as though she should be able to smell it as well. If she could, she thought it would smell of mint and clover.

  She sighed in resignation. With no body, trapped inside an alien funhouse tour of human history, she was free to be careened from scene to scene according to their whims.

  Clusters of students strolled in every direction, many bearing distinctive Asian features which had faded from the gene pool over the last two centuries.

  A group of four men in their early twenties walked past her. “So I explained to the secretary how I absolutely had permission to access the files and….” The young man’s voice trailed off as his gaze drifted to the left; hers followed.

  The plasma ripple of a crude force field rose in a wave out of the neighboring street and arced to meet the shield rising on the opposite side of the campus, some four kilometers away. They met at the apex to create an impenetrable barrier.