More is new, and very, very old.
Does this bother you?
Not-All remains odd, both one and many, both brutal and benevolent. Now Not-All is also both itself and More.
All cannot name this More, but All senses harmony and kinship with it, and thus with the very old newness of Not-All.
I’m glad.
All also senses struggle, but comprehends that struggle is not new for Not-All.
All would soothe it, for having shared Not-All’s pain, All would bring peace to Not-All. But the source is beyond All’s sight.
All begins to understand that struggle is not always injury, and not all pain can be healed.
All is very wise. I think the struggle is just part of who I am. What is new—or very old—fuels this in me, but it is also what gave me the power to protect All from Other. So I accept the burden with the benefit.
Not-All is quite strange indeed. All accepts this.
All thanks Not-All for its aid. For its warning, and its knowledge. For its peculiar, alien fierceness and defiance, though All desires never again to need to experience it in so profound a manner.
All is grateful to know Not-All.
And Not-All is so grateful to know All. I wish for All the peace I am not allowed.
Might Not-All and other Not-Alls stay a while?
I wish we could, I do. But we must depart soon, for there are many Others we must defend against, and many Not-Alls who need our protection.
Not-Alls who exist in the twinkling canopy of light amid the darkness you call ‘stars’?
Yes. That’s right. We must travel those stars to help our kin. But we will return one day, when no Other threatens, and when we do, we will stay a while. I promise.
All does not concern itself with stars…but All believes it will watch them now. For the encroachment of Others, and for the return of Not-Alls.
Caleb opened his eyes to the awareness of two things: the vine wound snugly around his hand and forearm, and Alex’s gently smiling face gazing upon him.
He blinked and gradually took note of additional details. The crisp air was free of soot and the odor of dead things—not yet filled with the bloom of young life, but cleansed and ready to begin anew. The sky was clear, free of the laden clouds that had so valiantly defended against the attack.
He saw all this because it was dawn, which meant he had slept. Sometime during the night sleep had become communion, initiated by Akeso. The vine now unwinding from his hand and gliding away, as well as the clarity of the recollection, meant it hadn’t been a dream. As did the pinprick of blood in the center of his palm.
The tiny stab wound created by the vine’s thorn had already sealed, but not before a new trace of All was left behind inside him. He could sense it.
He could also sense the inevitable struggle between it and the diati to make peace with one another begin. Should be entertaining.
Alex motioned toward the vine as it retreated to its proper location draping from the tree above them, a questioning glint in her eyes.
He nodded. “Akeso’s good, and so are we. We can go now.”
“I’m glad it reached out to you.” She drew closer for a soft, lingering kiss before crawling to her feet and beginning the search for her scattered clothing.
“So am I. You should know, I promised it we’d come back for a longer visit when the war was over.”
She laughed as she slipped on her camisole. “That’s fantastic. So we will.”
25
PALAEMON
ANARCH POST EPSILON
* * *
“HERE. EAT SOMETHING.”
Kennedy glanced up at Noah hovering above her, then down at the plate he’d slid in front of her. “Is it our food, or theirs?”
“Doesn’t it look like our food?”
She tilted her head to the side, then gathered her hair up and tucked it behind her shoulder before it fell into the plate. The food did appear both familiar and utterly normal—a whole grain pita wrapped around lettuce, salami and what was maybe feta cheese and a yogurt spread. A formerly frozen fruit medley occupied the other half of the plate.
Still, she hesitated. “I haven’t been here long enough to be sure what their food looks like.”
Noah plopped into the chair beside her and took an enthusiastic bite of his own sandwich. He washed it down with a sip of his energy drink then stared at her deadpan. “They moved a crate of provisions down here last night. It’s military-issue, but the higher-quality officer fare. It’s ours.”
“Thank you.” She flashed him a quick smile and started picking at the food.
They were situated in one of the three work rooms assigned to AEGIS at the anarch base, and she was ostensibly ‘working’ on deciphering the secrets of the Imperium-class vessel’s unbreachable shield, with the goal of enabling AEGIS to breach it. She had a schem flow detailing the shield’s functionality; she had vidcam footage from the battle at the Provision Network Gateway showing it in action. She didn’t have much else.
“What’s wrong?”
“What?” She blinked and realized she’d been staring at the fruit on her fork for…a while. She set the fork down, sighed and shifted to face Noah. “I’m struggling.”
“With the shield?”
“No. I mean, yes, it’s a puzzler. But I…didn’t expect to be as weirded out by this place as I am.”
Noah checked the door and lowered his voice. “There are definitely some weird aliens out there.”
“And weird tech and weird beds and weird food. Also, no sooner did we get here than everyone turned around and left. Miriam’s back through the portal with Mia. Alex and Caleb took off to save some plant, or plant-planet, or something. Everyone here is looking at me like I’m the alien, and I simply don’t understand what I’m supposed to be doing.”
“You’ve weathered a whole mess of change in the last year and a half, and you’ve done it in style. If this is one change too many, I don’t think anyone would blame you.”
“It’s not that, exactly. I guess I feel a little abandoned—not by you, of course.” She winced and tried to be self-deprecating. “I was supposed to be coming here because I was important, but then I got dumped. I know it’s not true. I know Miriam would rather be anywhere in creation other than Washington right now, and I know Alex wasn’t expecting to have to pull an emergency save in the Mosaic. But here we are.”
She straightened up and retrieved her sandwich wrap. “Enough self-pity for me. I need to eat, then I need to tear this shield down and build it back up until I understand it.”
Noah sneaked in close for a kiss before the sandwich made it to her mouth. “Which you will. Do you have everything you need?”
She finally got her bite, and shook her head while she chewed. “Not even close. Somewhere approaching twenty percent of the shield specs reference parts and ship mechanisms I have no understanding of—what they are or what they do. The words translate, but not to anything meaningful. I’ve worked out most of the mechanics of what the shield does, but how it does it involves science I don’t comprehend. No human does, not yet.”
He dropped his half-eaten sandwich on his plate and leapt up. “Give me twenty minutes.”
“For what?”
But he was already gone.
Kennedy put away her empty plate. The food really was welcome, and it had returned energy to her she hadn’t realized she’d needed.
She was organizing the information on hand in a haphazard pattern of screens that was nevertheless logical to her when Noah came back.
A stocky Anaden with military hair and a naturally military gait followed him into the work room. “This is Sander ela-Machim. Sander, allow me to introduce Kennedy Rossi.” Noah gave her an encouraging nod. “You have questions—gaps in knowledge. This man has some of the answers. For the rest of the answers, one of the tech officers is going to drop by about an hour from now.”
It was jarring to hear Noah speaking Communis, but it reminded her
to do so. This Sander Anaden person was gazing at her uncertainly, so she stood and switched on the charm. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”
“Ma’am. The Sator says we’re to assist you—the Human visitors—however we can, so I’m at your service.”
“Please, sit.” She gestured across the table, then subtly nudged the screens off to one side. “I’m studying the physical barrier shield the Imperiums use for defense, in the hope we can discover a way to disable or counter it.”
Sander paused halfway around the table. “I’m not an engineer, ma’am. I was a military officer.”
Because all Machim were military, anarch or not. She had been told this. “I understand. Have you ever been on board an Imperium?”
“Yes, ma’am. I served as a Senior Deck Supervisor on one of the LGG Region II Imperiums. It was my next-to-last assignment before…” he cleared his throat “…before I became an anarch.”
Alex had talked a bit about what it meant for an Anaden to reject their Dynasty and join the resistance. She didn’t know this man, but she should default to respecting him.
“Excellent. That’s perfect. Tell me about serving on the ship. What was your typical shift like? What did people do—how did things work?”
It was nearly three hours later when Kennedy watched the tech officer depart.
Sander had proved a challenging if productive resource, but Iveane ela-Erevna had spoken Kennedy’s language. Occasionally several tiers above her language, but her language nonetheless. The woman had even brought in a data reader and a couple of Reor slabs and walked her through several schematics.
Now she sank deeper in her chair and eyed Noah with a mix of amazement and unabashed adoration. “How did you pull that off?”
He was wearing a smug expression, but he deserved to. “Since we got here, I’ve been…doing what I do. Talking to people—aliens, but they’re really just people. While you and your colleagues have been doing the headline work, I’ve been getting to know the people nobody notices. The cafeteria supervisor, and the guy who fixes the bots that fix the walkways and bridges. Doing the legwork meant that today, I had contacts I could go to and ask, ‘Hey, is there a Machim here who knows his shit and has seen the inside of an Imperium?’ and get a real answer.”
“You’re incredible.”
“Nah, you’re incredible. But I’m probably awesome.”
She sank into his lap with a giggle and wound her arms around his neck. “Definitely.”
26
SIYANE
EKOS-3
MOSAIC PORTAL B-3 / ENISLE ELEVEN
* * *
ONCE THEY CLEARED AKESO’S ATMOSPHERE, Alex initiated the sLume drive, but only for a few seconds. The stars had no sooner blurred away when they again snapped into sharp relief, then were promptly drowned out by the system’s sun.
She arced around to bring the sun into full view…and in the foreground, a planet below.
Caleb swiveled his chair around to face Alex. “Ekos-3.”
She nodded slowly and stared out the viewport.
“You’re thinking that as long as it exists it’s a threat.”
“Because it is. Valkyrie, am I reading these measurements right?”
‘The planet appears to be in a state of some agitation. Elevated tectonic activity is measurable across all regions. Its orbital eccentricity has increased by 0.0217° and its inclination by 0.5288° since our last visit. Both appear to be stable at present, but we have not been in sensor range long enough for me to be certain.’
Alex toed her chair back and forth. “I think we can assume it was in communication with its offspring on the moon and knows what happened, which explains the agitation. The change in orbit could be an effect of whatever it did to launch its moon across the stellar system, or it could represent the beginnings of a new play. The planet might be able to alter its orbit enough to eventually intersect Akeso’s orbit. Hell, it might even be gearing up to slingshot itself around its sun. It wants Akeso—for starters—and it’s previously demonstrated it will go to great lengths to get what it wants.”
Given that it had succeeded in sending its moon across space to reach Akeso, this was indisputably true. Ekos-1 had tried to kill them, too, but objectively only in misguided self-defense. This planet, however, represented a true threat.
But what could they do to stop it from trying again? His actions the day before had taken every last drop of his admittedly mind-boggling power.
His elbows on his knees, he clasped his hands together and dropped his chin atop them. “Alex, this planet is at least…” he quickly called up their scientific files on both bodies “…one hundred forty times more massive than its moon. I don’t want to be negative, but I don’t think I can blow it apart.”
She reached over to squeeze his knee. “I know. You don’t need to. I’ve got this one.”
“You’re going to blow the planet apart?”
“That would be so satisfying, but sadly, no. I realize we can’t destroy it completely. Not today with the tools at hand. But we can set it back and give it something else to focus on for a while: its own survival.”
He sat up straighter. “Okay. How?”
“Here’s where we do use the negative energy missiles. Valkyrie, where’s the best spot on the planet to burn a hole through the crust into the mantle, then drop the missiles in? Where will cause the most disruption to its orbit or, even better, its structural integrity?”
‘The planet exhibits an axial tilt of 21.6°, with the southern pole being closest to the sun at this phase of its orbit. I believe boring a hole a minimum of 9.6 kilometers deep at 82° 3′ 14” S 4.9° 22′ 29” E, near the geographic south pole, will expose the mantle sufficiently to cause significant disruption to the planet’s stability.’
“Excellent. In that case, entering the atmosphere.” She drove the bow downward into the planet’s comparatively thin atmosphere, and before long they broke through light cloud cover on the other side.
They remained cloaked, so for now they didn’t draw the ire of the towers dotting the planet.
Even fresh off his communion with Akeso, it was easy to think of the structures as mere plants, as flora alive in only the most technical sense. But the structures were appendages of a planet-sized intelligence, and it was alive in the fullest sense. It was also malevolent and aggressive, and he would just as soon be rid of it.
But Alex…she’d demonstrated an unhesitant willingness to kill when it was necessary to protect herself or those she cared about, but she didn’t have the soul of a killer. It wasn’t ingrained in her psyche.
Was it possible she cared about Akeso as deeply as he? Though she lacked the personal bond he’d developed with the life form—it had never spoken explicitly to her—it had saved her life not so long ago. The acts which could earn her loyalty were sometimes quirky and difficult to predict, but that would definitely be one.
Still. He returned to his earlier pose, elbows on his knees, and regarded her intently. “Alex, if we’re going to do this, let me be the one to fire the shots. There’s already plenty of blood on my hands from this trip. I won’t notice a little more.”
“The trees don’t bleed.”
“Alex—”
A corner of her lips curled up. “It’s fine. I’m looking forward to exacting a measure of fiery vengeance.”
He watched her for another moment…and gave up trying to unburden her. He wasn’t her keeper.
The bare ground away from the towers shifted from blanched umber to slushy snow and ice; the towers shrank in height but spread their roots more widely. Harvesting water.
They slowed as they approached the coordinates and finally stopped to hover a kilometer above the surface. “All right. I’m activating the Rifter, seeing as I’m about to piss this asshole planet off something fierce.”
A second later she fired the Siyane’s primary laser point-blank into the ground below.
The snow and ice hissed as they melted then boiled
, and steam billowed up to obscure the surface. As expected, spears from the surrounding towers launched in the direction of the laser’s origination, only to be swallowed up by the Rifter and spit out into space.
She kept firing.
It took a while to burn through to the depth they sought, and the planet’s assault on them never let up. The relentless bombardment from the towers gradually ate away at the aura of peaceful contentment spun by the night and morning on Akeso, and the mood in the ship grew dark.
‘The upper mantle is now exposed.’
Alex’s mouth was set into a grim line as she deactivated the Siyane’s primary weapon. “Finally. Preparing to fire the negative energy missiles. As soon as they’re free, take us up to twelve kilometers altitude and be ready to flee farther. The reaction is likely to be violent, then possibly more violent.”
‘Understood.’
Alex tapped a point on the HUD with an index finger. “Missiles away.”
They couldn’t see when the missiles impacted the solid rock of the upper mantle, but they really didn’t need to.
The rim of the twelve-meter-wide hole they’d created exploded outward as the surface and everything beneath it burst apart. Clouds of disintegrating minerals shot into the air, only to evaporate. Cracks raced in every direction, leaving the surface to crumble away in their wake. The towers within sight tumbled into the widening crevasses and vanished.
A plume of inky blackness surged out of the center of the cavity to rise high into the air—and keep going—as the ground beneath it continued to convulse. For a few ominous seconds, everything fell silent…then the consequences of a large swath of the mantle and crust being vaporized by antimatter began to ripple inexorably across the land that remained.
“Fairly violent, as these things go.”
Alex tilted her head in acknowledgment. “Valkyrie, how did we do?”
‘The situation is still volatile, but I estimate the initial damage plus the continuing chain reaction should cause a rapid increase in the planet’s axial precession. Combined with the damage inflicted to the planet’s internal structural integrity, this should degrade the orbital trajectory to such a degree that within two solar transits the sun’s gravity will overtake the planet and drag it into the star.’
Rubicon: Aurora Resonant Book Two (Aurora Rhapsody 8) Page 17
