Rubicon: Aurora Resonant Book Two (Aurora Rhapsody 8)

by G. S. Jennsen

  Perhaps.

  All right, Mesme, have it your way. I think…paradoxically, controlling the act myself, with no filter, made it a less damaging experience. When I was joining with the ship, your hardware acted as an intermediary and buffer. Traveling from Katoikia Tairi, Mesme was in control and acted as a physical intermediary. With the wormholes, though, I’m in command of the opening, the closing and the traversal. I paused in the in-between of my own volition and chose to continue in the same way. You might have noticed, we humans like being in control.

  Indisputably you do. I must quibble with your assertion, however, as I, too, am responsible for the wormholes opening and closing. It is a Prevo act, one in which the line of distinction between you and me becomes rather blurred. Or do you believe you can open a wormhole without my presence in your mind?

  You’re always present in my mind now, Valkyrie.

  I meant if our connection were to be toggled off.

  I know what you meant. But you’ve left a permanent imprint on my mind. You’ve altered it indelibly, both by deliberate action and simply by the interaction of your active processes with it while the connection is open. The time I spent accessing the ship through you altered our neural makeup, both of us. And now, even when our connection is closed, you’re still here, if in an indefinable way.

  I understand.

  Which means…?

  Now that you put words to it, I have experienced a similar sensation on occasion. You have indeed altered my mind as well, Alex. But it doesn’t answer the question: could you do it alone? For that matter, could I?

  Seeing as she had no way to justify why she believed maybe she could, she decided not to make any grand declarations. We’d need to encase one or the other of us in a diati barrier to find out for sure, which we—actually, I guess we can test it. Maybe later.

  Do you suppose the other Prevos—the Noetica Prevos at least—have experienced similar changes?

  Alex sighed thoughtfully. Everyone’s followed their own unique path. Annie and Stanley no longer retain any connection to their original hardware. No question they’ve been altered fundamentally, but in a different way than we’ve experienced. Parts of Mia’s brain were literally rebuilt by Meno, so in many ways her mind could be changed the most of all of us.

  In some respects, you and I remain more distinct than the rest…which I’m glad for. Not for myself so much as for you. You deserve to have your own separate existence. Your own separate identity.

  You believe this, truly?

  Alex nodded, though she needn’t. Yep. You’ve earned it, and I would never take the journey away from you. I also think the fact that we’ve maintained greater separation than the others is what makes the ways in which we’ve melded and changed all the more significant. ‘Prevo’ means The Transcended. It was an audacious naming at the time, but at the time we had to be audacious. It’s taken a little while and a lot of hard experience, but perhaps we’re all finally becoming worthy of the name.

  So you’ve given this more than a passing thought.

  Of course I have. So have you.

  Of course.

  She was waylaid by two random people on her way back to the Siyane, and by the time she reached it she found herself hoping Caleb had started cooking something for dinner.

  She stepped through the airlock to find the interior dimly lit—and solely by optic candles. Dozens of them wound through the cabin in a trail from the cockpit to the stairwell.

  Caleb was leaning casually against the kitchen table; behind him sat a tray of chocolates and an open bottle of wine. He held two poured glasses, and now he met her halfway to hand her one with a smile.

  She accepted it without complaint, but gazed around the cabin quizzically. “What is this?”

  “I understand that back home in Aurora, today is February 2nd, give or take a few hours. Happy Anniversary, baby.”

  “Oh!” Her hand came up to cover her mouth. “I didn’t…now I feel awful for not keeping track.”

  “Don’t. We’ve been here for a while, and you’re focused on far more important matters. I wouldn’t have realized, either, except I had cause to reflect on some things recently.”

  He nudged her over to the couch, where there were more chocolates on the low table, and sat to half-face her. He took a sip of wine then grasped her free hand. “I’ve gotten a bit up my own ass lately with the melodrama. I want to apologize.”

  “You have every reason—”

  “—to apologize. Yes, what’s happened to me is insane. Hard to wrap one’s head around, self-evidently. But it’s no excuse, not for people like us. What’s happened to you in the last year and a half is by any measure equally as insane and mind-boggling, and you’ve borne it all proudly, without flinching, and certainly without acting like a self-centered prima donna.”

  She cringed, glass at her lips. “Well, except for that unfortunate business involving the ship and my brain and—”

  “Shush. If you faltered briefly, you accepted responsibility for it and weathered the consequences without flinching. Next you’re going to try to say this is different because you chose to become the first Prevo and thus alter your life forever, while I didn’t choose for the diati to choose me. Granted, but you made the choice only because there was no other option.

  “I need to realize that if I’d been offered this power—a power which would alter my life forever but would also give me the tools to save us, to save Akeso, possibly to save everyone—I would’ve said yes, just as you did. You can’t choose what happens to you, but you can always choose how you react to it, right? So I should probably lose the tortured soul routine and get over myself.”

  She dropped the tip of her nose to his. “I haven’t been thinking any of those things about you.”

  “I know. But I have—or I should have been.” His index finger found her chin and lifted it until her eyes met his. “On Akeso, after I’d destroyed the moon, I was so wrapped up in the fight, in the battle, that I couldn’t get my head straight until you reminded me of what I ought to be focusing on: the beauty—of life, of love, of the universe.”

  The fervency, the honesty in his eyes and expression was almost too much to take in. “Of you. For all that’s happened to me, the most important was meeting you, and the second most important was marrying you a year ago.

  “Whatever else happens going forward, I love you—beyond reason, beyond madness, and far beyond any pandimensional sentient space particles and the havoc they wreak. And I want to try to be more worthy of your love in return.”

  “Shut up.” She dropped her glass haphazardly on the table and tackled him until his back hit the couch cushion and her mouth was on his.

  His arms wrapped hungrily around her even as he grumbled against her lips. “But there are chocolates….”

  “Good. We’ll want dessert later.”

  49

  PALAEMON

  ANARCH POST EPSILON

  * * *

  ‘MESME HAS PROVIDED THE LOCATION of the Maffei I Gateway, as well as a recording of a recent incident involving a Machim formation.’

  “Oh?” It came out muffled, as Alex’s head was inside a half-on pullover. An AEGIS Council meeting was scheduled to start in a few minutes, and she was running late. Because anniversary evening, night and morning. “Good incident or bad incident?”

  ‘The details accompanying the message are as cryptic as Mesme is apt to be, but I suspect it was a good incident. Let us find out. I will play the recording at the data center while you finish getting ready.’

  Alex couldn’t keep a shit-eating grin off her face as she practically skipped into the conference room.

  Her mother glanced up and offered a “good morning,” then narrowed her eyes. “Do I need to know something?”

  “More like you’ll want to know something, but it can wait until everyone arrives.”

  Her mother’s lips twitched briefly before her attention returned to her screens. Alex chuckled lightly and fou
nd her seat as people started to trickle in. In minutes everyone was assembled, minus Caleb, who had begged off to go meet with Eren.

  Miriam cleared her throat to silence the chatter. “We are here primarily to review the Caeles Prism and wormhole traversal test results, but first Alex has something to share with us. Alex?”

  She created an aural, detached it and sent it to the center of the table, then leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. “Enjoy the show.”

  The vid tracked a sizeable formation of Machim warships in an unidentified, empty region of space. A few seconds later, the vantage swung around to reveal an open Mosaic portal ahead of them.

  Miriam straightened up in alarm. “They found one of the portals? We need to—”

  “Calm down, Commandant. Just watch.”

  The look her mother shot her conveyed quite plainly how unamused she was at being strung along. Alex might pay for that later.

  The ships began traversing the portal, and everyone around the table grew increasingly restive as the contingent emerged through the other side into a lobby space and continued onward—

  —then all the ships vanished.

  The scene transitioned to a close-in view of a K4 V star. The mandarin orange photosphere churned as solar flares darted out and fell back through the star’s atmosphere. A clump of dark dots, identifiable as ships if one paused the footage and studied them, materialized upon the luminous backdrop and were instantly swallowed up by a solar flare.

  Rear Admiral Escarra frowned. “What was that? Were those the same Machim vessels?”

  “Yep.” Alex dropped her elbows to the table and leaned forward eagerly. “The Kats deliberately breadcrumbed a Vigil tracking device to this portal. They placed a dimensional shift—their version of a Rifter, only much, much larger—inside the portal space, and it kicked the formation through the portal and dumped them out inside the atmosphere of a nearby star. Instant melting at 4,000 Kelvin.”

  “How many ships?”

  “Around twelve thousand, not counting fighter-type craft.”

  Miriam shook her head, but she was smiling now. “I imagine our adversary will be far more reticent about acting on their trackers in the future. Did the Kats do this on their own initiative?”

  “They did. It was Mesme’s idea, much to my surprise. Vexatious bastard may be more crafty than I’ve been giving it credit for.”

  I have seven aeons of life behind me. I assure you, the surprises are not at an end.

  All eyes went to the far left corner, where Mesme undulated in a leisurely dance of blue-white light.

  She couldn’t decide whether to laugh or scowl. “I applaud your impressive sense of timing and your witty rebuttal. You’re learning. But how many times have I asked you—”

  Not to lurk unannounced or ‘barge in’ unexpectedly. Nine times. But the opportunity was too tempting to resist.

  Damn. All the time Mesme had been spending around humans was having an effect. “Okay, fair enough. You have your moment in the spotlight. Anything else you care to say?”

  I was merely curious to observe the reactions of those at the table to the recording.

  Miriam responded graciously, as always. “You have my thanks. We will definitely take the assist.”

  You are welcome.

  “I suspect the trick won’t work a second time, but perhaps something similar will?”

  Lakhes asked me to convey to you the following: the maneuver was expensive in time, effort and resources, and thus cannot be used with regularity. However, should you require a large-scale dimensional shift to occur at a crucial juncture in your war effort, we will endeavor to provide it. Further, in light of the imminent resumption of hostilities, Hyperion asked me to inform you that our fleets stand ready to assist you in appropriate offensives.

  Miriam nodded. “Convey my appreciation to them both. We need to get our feet underneath us first, but I’ll be in touch.”

  As is your judgment. Alexis, congratulations.

  She arched an eyebrow. “For?”

  Vindicating my faith in the unmatched ingenuity of Humans. Your species always finds a way, and the Caeles Prism is only the most recent demonstration of this. You have done well.

  She blinked, for a split-second was transported back to a featureless white room in a cave on Portal Prime. You have done well. Mesme had said the same to her there, after her final test—the Hong Kong Incident, designed to probe the nuances of her appreciation of human and Artificial fallibility alike—before granting her the reward of witnessing her father’s final minutes of life, and his death.

  Wow. Had Mesme meant to evoke the memory, to subtly draw attention to the path the complex threads of her life had taken on their way to this moment, and how many of those threads could be traced to what she’d experienced on Portal Prime?

  Purpose animated everything the Kat did, so the answer was clearly yes. It was either an implicit boasting of supreme arrogance, or a gesture of supreme kindness. Knowing Mesme, it very well could be both.

  I will leave you to your preparations.

  Miriam dipped her chin. “Thank you, again. Now, unless anyone has more to report, we should turn to the test results.”

  Alex motioned at the others and returned to her spectator pose, too distracted to actively participate yet.

  An unexpected clang rang out as an object hit the surface of the conference table, startling everyone and sending several peoples’ hands to their weapons.

  Alex jerked out of her reverie in time to see a Reverb come to rest near the center of the table. Most everyone was now looking at Devon, so she assumed he was the one who had tossed it. A few attendees, however—notably Malcolm, Harper and Mia—were staring at the Reverb like it was a splinter grenade about to blow.

  Devon finally broke the tense silence. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought this was the meeting where we all showed off our shiny new accomplishments that were going to help us win this war. Is it not?”

  Miriam’s lips pursed. “We welcome new tools that can help us win this war at any meeting. Are you saying this is one?”

  Malcolm glowered at the Reverb, disgust in his voice. “That thing only kills us.” He threw his hands in the air. “And civilians aren’t supposed to have one.”

  Morgan hurriedly gestured for attention. “I authorized it. I filed all the proper forms and issued an official limited exception for Devon, so simmer down, Brigadier.”

  Malcolm did.

  Devon continued to act even more smug than usual, oblivious to the interpersonal baggage he’d dredged to the surface with the innocuous-looking little device. “Not any longer. Sight this Reverb down on an Anaden and activate it, and it’ll kill them a hell of a lot faster than it’ll kill one of us.”

  “Any Anaden?”

  “What does ‘kill them’ mean?”

  “How close do you have to be?”

  The questions overlapped, and Devon had to clear his throat loudly to be heard over everyone. “If a Praesidis has their diati active, it won’t penetrate it. But otherwise, any Anaden. It’ll bypass any technological shielding or barrier, and death is instantaneous. No, it doesn’t prevent their consciousness from transmitting for regenesis—not yet. I’m working on it, but I’m not certain it’ll be possible to stop the transmission.

  “Also, distance doesn’t technically matter, but you do need a straight line of sight from the device to the target, which creates a practical limit on the range. But glass or solid walls don’t matter. If you can point it directly at them, you can take them down.”

  “You’re serious? How did you come up with it?”

  Devon glanced at Escarra, then around the table, in mock—probably—indignation. “Did everyone think I was just screwing off in the tech labs the last few days? On the contrary, I was working.”

  Mia laughed. “To be fair, you working looks a lot like screwing off to the untrained eye.”

  “That’s true. But after going to all the trouble of dragging me to an
other universe, you should get your money’s worth from me being here.” He gestured to the Reverb still lying in the middle of the table. “Each one will need to be modded individually, at least at first. So I guess we ought to slate some more Reverbs in for the next supply run?”

  Harper pinched the bridge of her nose; her voice was muted through her hand. “The IDCC only has a few. Ask Seneca for some.”

  Bastian shrugged. “I’ll see what Director Delavasi can make happen.”

  Miriam’s brow furrowed. “Thank you. We’ll work out the details later today, as well as develop a policy for their distribution and rules of use. Mr. Reynolds, is there anything else we should know about this new tool?”

  “Not really—oh, there is one thing. Prevos don’t need the tool.”

  “Are you saying a Prevo can kill an Anaden, albeit temporarily, by…looking at them?”

  “Not accidentally. It requires a great deal of deliberate effort up here—” Devon tapped the glyphs lighting his temple “—but, essentially, yes.”

  “Are the other Prevos aware they can do this, and how?”

  Devon tilted his head, silent for a momentous second. “They are now.”

  “Good to know.” Miriam adjusted her posture and eyed Alex, but she had not known about this surprise, dammit. “Now, if there is again nothing else, we’ll move on to the next achievement on display. Ms. Rossi?”

  “Thank you, Commandant. All tests of the Caeles Prism and the accompanying wormhole traversals have come back well within performance and safety parameters. The tests include single- and multiple-vessel usage, simultaneously and in succession. They’ve covered distances as short as half a megameter and as long as—” she glanced at Alex “—4.1 megaparsecs, as well as many points in between. The distance has no effect on the power required, which is based solely on the diameter of the wormhole to be opened.

  “As far as the power generated by the Caeles Prism goes, it is substantial and increases over time, but it can be managed, diffused and shut down at any point. There are a few hypothetical failure scenarios, but by using a separate module instead of multitasking the individual Rifters, we’ve cut their number and likelihood significantly, while also reducing the impact of a failure.”