Dissonance: Aurora Renegades Book Two (Aurora Rhapsody 5)

by G. S. Jennsen

  Every ingrained instinct she had, including several she’d assumed long buried, flared in outrage. Bitter memories taunted her from the recesses of her mind. She scrunched her face up to the point of pain from the effort of holding back words she would surely regret in epic ways if they made it past her lips.

  She raised a hand only to hold it out, warding him off, and inhaled deeply. Slowly, buying herself time.

  “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. But…” she winced “…don’t tell me I cannot do something for my own good. Please, I’m begging you here. Those words are a ridiculous trigger for me, and I don’t want to lash out at you when you don’t deserve it, or get myself killed trying to prove you wrong. I know it’s my own failing—I know—and I’m trying to be better than that, but just don’t…please.”

  “Right. Not your keeper. Forgot for a minute.” He abused his jaw with both hands. “Fuck. Okay, we need to run some tests to confirm all the systems are operating correctly. I don’t want to find out something’s still broken once we’re back in space.”

  Cold. She felt cold. Shivering, goosebumps prickling her arms in the warm afternoon air. “Caleb….”

  “No, it’s fine. Everything is…fine.”

  “Like hell it is!”

  I drifted in the woods behind the lake, behind the small house I had built as if it were somehow a home.

  Constructing it had involved directing wood and stone, millions thick with atoms, yet now I commanded but a few precious particles. I rested, working to regain my energy, and imposed patience upon myself. Only serenity could hasten regeneration of will.

  Moving an ethereal, semi-physical manifestation of oneself was the simplest of matters, done without thought. Transporting small objects—timber, rocks, a Human or two—while I remained stationary and whole was nearly as trivial to accomplish. Doing so with and within myself required the application of greater resources and effort, but it was not what I considered a notably difficult task.

  Transporting myself and a forty-two-meter-long ship across space and a demi-portal and through a planetary atmosphere was, as Humans were prone to say, another matter entirely. I had barely managed it, and it left me sapped of all but the faintest spark.

  But that had been many moments ago. I evaluated myself…yes. I was nearly recharged enough to return to my normal external form. Nevertheless, I elected to wait until I reached my full strength and allow them to argue in the meantime.

  There were times I believed Humans did little else but argue with one another. It was one of their traits I found most confounding, for it should have inevitably led to their consummate demise many thousands of times, but somehow it had not. Not as of yet.

  I did not have the ability to observe the details of Alexis and Caleb’s explorations through the other portals, so I dared not speculate as to what this argument in particular was regarding. A reasonable supposition to make was it pertained to the less than optimal state they were in when I had arrived on the scene. They were most—

  —I sensed the approach of another like a growing darkness on the horizon. Never in my remembrance had one of my own radiated such malevolence.

  So news of the events at the Amaranthe gateway had reached the Idryma.

  It was with a great, sorrowful dread that I gathered up my energies, which I judged to be woefully regenerated for the task at hand, and surged out of the woods to the lake below.

  Retreat to the ship and cloak. Do it now.

  “Mesme?” Where the hell was the damn alien?

  Alex glared at the empty air and threw her hands up in exasperation. But she obeyed the order like the proper little girl in military school she’d once been for twelve weeks in another life.

  Caleb closed the hatch behind them. “Valkyrie, tell me the cloaking shield is working.”

  ‘There is one way to find out. Cloaking shield engaged. All readings indicate it is functioning to specifications.’

  Alex hurried to the cockpit to peer out the viewport, because there better be something worth seeing outside. At first nothing appeared out of the ordinary, and her rising blood pressure chased away any remaining shivers.

  Then Mesme materialized in empyreal, winged form to hover above the center of the lake. Sneaky bugger had been hiding from them?

  Several seconds later another Metigen soared down the slope in a projected air of urgency. It halted directly opposite Mesme.

  Where are they?

  Mnemosyne: Where are who, Hyperion?

  Hyperion…Aguirre and Hervé’s alien contact, and the one who threatened their safety the first time they were here.

  “Why can we understand them? Why can we hear them?”

  Caleb gave her a surprisingly mild shrug, considering his current state of mind and the rather disharmonic state of the world and all who resided in it—most notably them. “Maybe Mesme wants us to?”

  Hyperion: Do not play coy with me, Mnemosyne. Your Human pets tried to breach a gateway to Amaranthe. Their presence in the Mosaic is too dangerous to continue to be tolerated. Send them home and eradicate the Aurora portal, or I will do it for you.

  Mnemosyne: They can throw themselves at the Amaranthe gateway all they desire. They will not get through. They are not a danger.

  Hyperion: Not a danger? They threaten everything we’ve worked for aeons to accomplish. They will bring ruin upon us all. You must see this. Stop protecting them. Hand them over.

  Mnemosyne: No.

  She felt the force and conviction of the statement reverberate in her chest as if it had been a seismic tremor. Mesme truly was protecting them. She sighed…nothing was ever simple, was it?

  Hyperion: So they are here, then. You did sweep in and rescue them like the angels they once worshipped. You imagine yourself quite the shepherd, don’t you? This was all a mistake. Aurora was a mistake. The Human species is no different from its progenitor, and if allowed to run free they will be the end of everything.

  I say again—hand the Humans over, and I will do what is necessary, what you lack the fortitude to do.

  Mnemosyne: And I, too, will say again. No. You do not rule here, Hyperion, and you possess no authority over me.

  Her hand had found Caleb’s sometime in the interchange…and he hadn’t fought her. Worse, he now gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. She longed to grab him and draw him into her arms and whisper how much she loved him until the pain faded and everything stopped being so damn hard.

  But an existential battle over their lives was being waged outside, so all she could do was offer him a desperate smile when he whistled in appreciation. “Damn, Mesme. I did not know you had it in you.”

  Hyperion: I will take them from you if I must, Mnemosyne. I will—

  A third Metigen appeared out of nowhere to insert itself between the two quarreling aliens.

  You will not.

  Hyperion’s manifestation shrank in size; its threatening gleam dimmed.

  Hyperion: Praetor Lakhes, it is good you’ve come. The insolent Humans running rampant through the Mosaic attempted to break into Amaranthe. Mnemosyne spirited them away and hides them even now. With you here we can at last bring an end to this foolish madness and restore reason to our work.

  The great Lakhes at last. Hyperion called it ‘Praetor.’ This implied Lakhes was in charge. Interesting.

  Mnemosyne: Lakhes, the time has come to choose a side.

  Hyperion: Your words are traitorous, Mnemosyne. There is only one side: the side of discipline, study and supervision.

  Lakhes: I know, Mnemosyne.

  Spurred on by a hunch and a hint of a memory from their time in Portal B-5, of the glimpse she’d caught of the Metigen in the quantum space before the star went supernova, Alex braced herself and moved into that space.

  The Metigens’ presence in the quantum dimension resembled an overlay—or perhaps an underlay—upon their physical appearance, ethereal as it was. They retained their core avatars—the winged ray, the horned owl, the faie—while th
eir visible forms shifted and undulated.

  Hyperion: Praetor, do not listen to the poetic caprices of this exile. Mnemosyne chants platitudes while undermining our every move. Banish these Humans back to Aurora and eradicate its portal so they never trouble us again.

  Lakhes: And if I do not? What will you do then, Hyperion?

  Hyperion: If you…if you do not? I…will do what necessity demands be done, Praetor, for all our sakes. For the sake of all living souls in Amaranthe.

  Mnemosyne: Lakhes, choose.

  Lakhes: I chose long ago, Mnemosyne, even if you did not see it. Hyperion, you are forbidden to reenter Amaranthe—don’t attempt it, for your access has already been revoked. I believe you believe you act in our best interests, but your judgment is too narrow to manifest as wisdom.

  If you bring harm to the Humans currently in the Mosaic or those in Aurora, you will be made corpus-bound. You would do well to depart now, or I may become vexed and increase the punishment further.

  Hyperion: Praetor, how can you—

  Lakhes: Depart.

  Hyperion dissipated in an agitated flutter of blooded scarlet lights, leaving Mesme and Lakhes to float above the lake.

  Mnemosyne: Lakhes, I thank you for—

  Lakhes: No need, dear friend, but now is not the time to press your position. See to your charges, but do try to ensure they don’t attempt to breach Amaranthe again until the time is right.

  Mnemosyne: And when do you expect the right time will be, dear friend?

  Lakhes: Mnemosyne, I will say it a second time, as I seem to be forced to do whenever Humans are about: do not overreach. I realize how poorly things fare in Aurora as well as you. Whenever that time proves to be, it is assuredly not today. If your charges possess such talents as you assert, perhaps they should use them to mend their home before endeavoring to do the same elsewhere.

  Now, I should return to the Idryma, lest Hyperion rouse a mutiny in my absence.

  Mnemosyne: Of course. And know you have my thanks, and my allegiance.

  She squeezed tightly on Caleb’s hand, so hard he’d have to pay attention. “I’m going to try to follow Lakhes.”

  “Follow where…oh. Do it. I’m here.”

  Oh, how I hope you are, my love.

  Lakhes’ physical presence flitted into the air and away, but she concentrated on the quantum presence, what she suspected was the truer essence of the alien. She’d never done this before, but if she kept Lakhes firmly in her sights, she thought she’d be able to track—

  As with all movement over distances in this space, it was quick. A millisecond, no more than two, and they hovered in front of one of the portals in the Aurora lobby. She wasn’t even dizzy…or she was well beyond dizzy and it happened to feel the same in this twilight zone.

  The portal opened, and Lakhes vanished into it.

  Valkyrie, where are we? I need to know which portal this is.

  Measuring. Portal A-9.

  She gazed at the portal, glistening and gauzy through the filter of the quantum space. The fact Lakhes had done so notwithstanding, she didn’t know if she had the ability to traverse it with naught but her mind. She flowed forward to try…

  …and stopped herself. After what had happened mere hours earlier, after Caleb’s words and the anguish on his face had cut her in the deepest places…it would be nothing short of blatant stupidity to attempt it, and she very well may lose her life for the effort.

  Return.

  She opened her eyes. “Lakhes went through Portal A-9. Let’s go.”

  What had they just witnessed?

  Caleb pretended to relax in his chair and ruminated on it while they made the short trip to the portal. To be honest, he welcomed the diversion the chase provided from the more uncomfortable and too destructive events which preceded it.

  Mesme, then Lakhes as well, had protected them. Not the Taenarin or anyone else from Amaranthe, but them. And from one of their own, no less.

  Hyperion meant to cut off his and Alex’s access to the portal network and everything beyond it at a minimum, and possibly to kill them. Mesme had once claimed the Metigens did not kill using their own forms, but Caleb wasn’t so certain Hyperion had gotten the memo.

  To complicate the picture, there appeared to be an ongoing dispute among these Metigens about some larger, unnamed conflict—one which, by their account, had already spanned aeons.

  His head might reel from the implications, but he was a practical guy when it came to missions, and to his way of thinking this without a doubt constituted a mission. Not one for any government, but for the people—all of them. This was the show. So he focused on the here and now.

  Lakhes’ statements to Hyperion implied the Praetor controlled entry into Amaranthe. Perhaps more importantly, the statements implied that at some point in the future, he and Alex were expected to traverse the master portal to Amaranthe.

  A familiar but unwelcome chill radiated at the base of his spine. Puppet masters pulling their strings, indeed.

  On top of it all, Lakhes had indicated there were problems at home, in Aurora—problems serious enough for the Metigens who weren’t supposed to be watching any longer to take notice of them.

  Dammit, could things stay not fucked up for once? For the briefest blink of time?

  But whatever was happening back home, it would have to either wait or work itself out, for they may be about to unlock a number of the Metigens’ secrets. Or Alex may be about to, anyway.

  He watched her in the corner of his vision, not giving any hint to her that he did. She monitored their approach to the portal and nominally directed the ship. But mostly she chewed on her bottom lip and stared out at the darkness.

  He feared for her, feared for her life as she recklessly threw herself into these perilous situations. She chased the truth without so much as a thought for her safety, chased an enemy he had no way to help her fight.

  Now he felt impotent, because he couldn’t find an enemy target suitable for shooting or knifing or strangling…and because he wasn’t even sure who the enemy was any longer.

  If he were honest with himself—and he really did try to be—he feared the path she headed down would take her somewhere he couldn’t follow, and not merely physically.

  And he had no idea how to stop her from going down it, not without losing her entirely. Which was something else he could not do.

  She straightened her posture and glanced over, but didn’t quite meet his gaze. “We’re there.”

  PORTAL: A-9

  SYSTEM DESIGNATION:

  IDRYMA

  46

  IDRYMA

  IDRYMA PORTAL SPACE

  * * *

  THERE WAS NOTHING.

  It wasn’t the void they’d encountered through several of the previous portals. Space did exist here, same as it typically did in the lobbies. But they found no exit portal. No universe beyond the lobby.

  Alex searched the blackness for a glimmer that might point the way. “This looks like a dead end. But obviously it’s not if this is where Lakhes went. So…what are we missing? Valkyrie, are you picking up anything special?”

  ‘I regret to say I am not. On the surface, there is nothing unusual here. On the other hand, there is nothing usual here, either.’

  A chuckle died in her throat as she gazed at Caleb. He peered out the viewport, on the lookout for something to make itself known. He was still focused on the mission, still embracing their purpose here. Still believing.

  Her chest seized up, captive to a sensation she hadn’t yet found a name for. She reached out and enclosed his hand in a vise-grip, taking him by surprise.

  His eyes darted to hers and stayed there; he drew in a sharp, visible breath.

  She offered him the best smile she was capable of conjuring. “You understand how much I love you, don’t you? More than—” all the stars in the heavens…but she’d never been so eloquent with her feelings as her father “—anything. I’m truly sorry about what happened at the portal
. I put you in a terrible position, and it wasn’t fair to you. I’m sorry about…outside, too. About a lot of things. Back on Ireltse, I told you I would do better. I failed at that today. Badly. But it was my mistake, and I own it.”

  He stared at her in something like wonder, with a distinct dash of relief. A wonderful smirk grew on his lips, continuing on so far as to light his eyes. “Apology accepted. Now time’s wasting, so go find what’s hiding here. Go.”

  She clasped his hand once more, hoping it was enough for now, enough to stem the tide. Then she closed her eyes to transition into the quantum space.

  A gasp must have escaped her lips back on the ship, for she sensed his grip tighten.

  Fractals of light unfolded in every direction ahead of her. There was a structure built in this dimension, where concepts such as distance, width and height should not exist.

  Many stories tall and wide beyond her vision, the structure transcended anything she had ever seen or imagined. Its beauty was breathtaking, but the light waves hummed a slightly dissonant tone at the very edge of her hearing, a chord forever seeking resolution.

  What is this place?

  If I had to make a guess, I would say it is the Idryma.

  Whatever that is.

  A reasonable question. I can offer theories, but I sense now is not the time.

  Slowly, cautiously, she drifted inside the outer walls of this creation. Beings—or representations of their consciousnesses—ambled through its halls. Though the edifice felt like a hologram and its light the most illusory of planes, they moved as if the virtual floors beneath their feet were real.

  It’s possible we only see a narrow segment of the complex. If it extends into additional dimensions, this may be akin to observing a 2D drawing of a cube.

  We’ve seen the Metigens make use of at least six dimensions several times now, so…sure.

  Could they see her? None reacted to her presence, not even the one who passed a sliver away from her, so she decided they could not. Odd, since by their actions they clearly recognized and acknowledged one another.