Ayumi had to nod. The likelihood of his prediction being true was a solid 60 percent—hardly statistically significant, but a real possibility. Bringing sleepers back had been intended to combat not just the Greys but human incompetence. For all she knew, there was only her.
Can I do this alone? “What about Kieran? If the Terran Council was willing to kill Berkeley in cold blood, they’re going to go after Kieran.”
“I don’t know yet.” Crawley shook his head. “I’m waiting for a situation report.”
“From the TDF?” Ayumi asked.
“No.” The finality in his voice convinced her he was telling the truth and there was much more to this project than she’d assumed. There was only one other species so invested in their collective past.
“The Styrahi then? They are involved?”
Crawley studied her for a moment. “Yes, they are. But there are other things we have to discuss right now.”
“Berkeley tried to fight them.”
Crawley’s eyebrows rose, and he almost smiled. “She was a pretty tough woman. I’d like to think you would have grown to like each other.”
Ayumi shook off the thought of having a friend, much less Berkeley being a friend. She didn’t want to cry in front of Crawley. “You planned against them attacking you and the Integration Center. You could have planned for her, couldn’t you? Maybe protected her?”
“I did.” Crawley looked away and rubbed his chin. Something wasn’t right.
<
Why not?
<
Ayumi’s mind raced in an attempt to figure out Crawley’s plans. “Where are all those people from the Integration Center—”
“Funny you mention them. Just what were you planning?”
Ayumi opened her mouth. “I wanted answers.”
“At any cost, right?”
There was no sense denying it. “Yes. I killed Sergeant Brooks at Mountain Home, and I was planning to do the same to you and Berkeley because of what you did to Kieran. But he wasn’t dead at all, and you were expecting all of this, even my… our integration.” The moment she’d overtaken Amy, everything changed. She could see that now.
Crawley met her eyes. “Yes, I was expecting most of this. There is much more at stake than Kieran and his reaction squadron idea. He’s proven it’s viable on Mars, but the Terran Council went after him there. With every step we’ve taken, they’ve tried to stop us. It’s time we turned the tables on them. This is about the future of humanity, Ayumi.”
“How do you intend to stop them?”
Crawley said, “Did you know you’re still connected to Chastity?”
What? Ayumi blinked. A frantic check of the data stream revealed the code that had pinged Chastity’s Memphis server. There should have been no more than a 9 percent chance of recovery, which was why the code remained at all. For a moment, her heavy heart lightened. One person she’d killed was alive after all. “She’s awake?”
“She survived the rapid disconnection, yes. You carelessly left a linkage to her accounts, thinking they would be frozen and untraceable because of cerebral damage. You were wrong. The Terran Council moved her to Paris not long after you assumed control in New York.”
The memory of the attempted mugging, the moment of hesitation that had caused everything to happen, played briefly in her mind. “The payment routine? She latched onto me?”
“That’s how they found Kieran. That’s what started everything rolling. I’d thought you’d manifest somewhere, but I wasn’t expecting it to be an old connection to a cyber-prostitute. But that’s our in.”
The pieces suddenly started to fall into place. Chastity woke up, and she had Kieran’s name and face—the two most critical pieces of information about him. From there, the Terran Council intelligence teams could connect even the most hidden dots. Crawley’s subterfuge and Berkeley’s skill hadn’t been enough. That was why Berkeley came forward and wanted Ayumi’s help. But she’d been too late. Guilt crushed Ayumi, but Crawley’s statement didn’t make sense. How could Chastity, even if she was awake and fully functioning, be of importance to us? How can we use her?
Ayumi blinked in realization. “Because Chastity’s in Paris. She’s likely connected to the Terran Council system, right?”
“Precisely. We have to get her out of there before they terminate her. More specifically, you do.”
“They know that I’m alive. Wouldn’t they be looking for me?”
Crawley nodded. “They’ve tried. You stopped their attempts so far, which was good. You’re here now, and off the grid, as Kieran would have said. Even if they come looking for you, they won’t find you. All we have to do is return you to your original face and build a coherent batch file and identity.”
“Why should I help you?”
Crawley sighed again and stared out over the ocean. “If all has gone well on Mars, Kieran is alive, and he’ll need your help. If that’s not enough, Ayumi, you are alive. Do you understand that? You are alive, but you aren’t really living. If you quit now and run, they’ll work to find you for the rest of your days. Stop them, and you have a chance to live like you want to.”
I am alive. Crawley was right. The urge to stay alive and free was too great to ignore, much as Kieran had experienced. Seeing the solar system called to her. Human interaction, friendships, and even love did, as well. She imagined herself flying, and she felt Amy’s heart—her heart—race in anticipation.
Ayumi opened a search for a genetic-therapy salon and found two in Esperance. “I should change my appearance?”
“Yes, that’s step one. The other part is a complete, integrated profile. I can do both in about forty-eight hours.”
Ayumi sensed there was something more. “But your whole plan relies on me, doesn’t it? That I’m integrated fully as Ayumi, not Mally and Amy. I have to be whole. That’s what the data Berkeley gave me is for. Did she know that?”
“Yes.” Crawley scratched his chin. “The plan was for you to meet face-to-face, and she would walk you through the process. It would have given us time to figure out the next move both here and on Mars. Everything here got royally fucked up, but if everything went according to plan on Mars, Kieran is alive and well.”
There should have been a flutter to her heartbeat, but there was not. Even as she asked the question, she knew the answers were something much larger than her or Kieran. “What are you talking about?”
“I’ve known what would happen since the beginning, or I should say, I hoped for this to happen. Kieran is a great warrior, Ayumi, and he will change the course of history, but I needed someone to take care of him. To protect him. That someone was you. Mally was the first step I hoped for, despite how things ended at the cemetery. My greatest risk was that you would not manifest again. But you did, and I’ve been watching you ever since. It’s been harder than I anticipated, but I needed to let you try to be human and fail. And you have failed. You’ve acted like an impatient child and put too many people at risk. Yes, you wanted revenge, but you went about it like a computer would instead of a human being. Unpacking stasis mode will fix that.”
“And what do you want from me?”
“I need you to fill a specific role, one that Kieran will need as we go forward. He’ll need protection, and he’ll need something that you alone can be.”
His companion? His wife? She blinked the thoughts away. No, Kieran’s grief at the loss of Berkeley would be too great. It would have to be something different. Something service related. Amy’s expertise came forward. Flying.
<
And now?
Now what do you want to do?
<
I don’t understand.
<
So you’re on board with this?
<
Kieran had an idea for a squadron, and Amy was a pilot. She unpacked Berkeley’s stasis-mode files and executed them in milliseconds. Electricity seemed to ripple through every cell of her body. For the first time since coming forward, Ayumi consciously felt her body and mind in agreement. “He’ll need an experienced pilot.”
“One with your particular skill set, yes, but a lot more than that. But that’s a ways off right now. I need you sharp and ready for the next phase.”
“And what is that?”
“I think you’re going to like it,” Crawley said.
There were footsteps on the porch from the other side. Ayumi tensed but saw that Crawley was relaxed. There was only one person approaching, and her sensors identified the man. With the recognition came a strange sense of peace.
“Welcome home,” Allan Wright said. “And you are…?”
As if a tuning fork had been struck in her head, she took a breath and looked at Crawley then smiled up into the blond man’s face. “My name is Ayumi Nakamura. It’s nice to meet you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
I kept time by ration packs. Telling time with one’s stomach wasn’t really all that difficult, and I figured I’d been receiving two rations per day for six days. There was absolutely no sense of movement, so I discounted the idea that I was still in transit anywhere, and I only saw the two familiar guards. They never took off their helmets and never spoke when they tossed a ration pack to me. They never answered my questions either, so I decided to play the game and kept silent, too. A stainless-steel bottle and the sink gave me all the water I could drink. I ate, slept, and read, which wasn’t a bad way to pass the time at all. Lily was unresponsive, so I had no way to contact Berkeley. Given the amount of time, I knew she’d be worried as hell.
My stomach rumbled as soon as I heard movement outside my cell. The dark-haired Styrahi, Thirenalla, entered my cell again and smiled. “Lieutenant Commander Roark, please follow me.”
Thank God! I stood and turned over the book I’d been reading to mark the page. I was lost in Herbert’s Dune.
“If you’d like, bring the book with you. You will not be returning to this room,” Thirenalla said. “Please forgive the need for appearances.”
She extended a warm, soft hand, which I shook. “You’re finally going to explain all of this to me?”
“More or less. But not here.”
“Can I call home?”
She bit her lower lip for a split second. “Before anything else, we must talk. And not here.”
With a glance back at the unfinished book, I followed her out of the cell and into a narrow hallway. A sliding door opened at one end, and we stepped quickly into a wide, well-lit hallway. White pathway markings led us toward what looked like a central hub.
“Where are we?” I asked as we entered the hub structure. A circular elevator shaft rose above us at the center of a wide-open cylinder. The sky was dark through distant windows at the top of the structure. I was pretty sure we weren’t on Mars anymore. Nor were we in foldspace. Something was wrong.
“In transit to Earth. You are aboard one of our cruisers, the Anthaarra. Named after the site of our greatest battle.” Thirenalla smiled. “We’ll arrive in twelve days. It was necessary to keep you hidden until we were out of Mars space and able to engage our security procedures.”
“How in the hell did I get on a Styrahi cruiser?”
Thirenalla laughed but did not answer my question. Even repulsors produced a slight vibration and sense of movement, and I’d felt nothing for days.
Thirenalla stopped at an unmarked door and held her hand up to a sensor plate. The door slid open, and she gestured for me to enter a dimly lit circular room with three wide, comfortable chairs. Two were vacant. General Faraa sat in the third.
“Please, come in.” She stood and raised her hands, and I attempted to kiss her palms in the Styrahi custom. She beamed at my clumsy attempt. “Well met.”
Thirenalla did the same, but with more expertise, and turned toward me. “Would you care for a drink?”
Faraa said, “Tennessee whiskey for us all, please. We’d like Kieran to feel at home.”
“Seems like you know all about me, honurrah.” I frowned. If they knew about me, everyone else did. “General Crawley told me to protect my identity at all costs.”
“Wise advice.” Faraa took a glass from Thirenalla and turned her attention to me. “We’ve known about you since before you woke, Kieran. You’re the one we’ve been waiting for.”
“Having me piss myself in the back of a Styrahi track and locking me up in solitary confinement is a great welcome, ma’am.” I bit my tongue to avoid saying more. Getting angry about my living arrangements would help nothing.
Faraa frowned. “I am sorry, Kieran. Appearances were necessary, for you and for several interested parties on Earth and Mars.” She gestured for us all to sit.
The chair conformed to every part of my body. After two weeks on a hard cot, it was heaven. The ejection had left me sore and bruised, but I’d felt better every day. When Faraa started talking, my good feelings had stopped.
“Kieran, if the Greys returned today, the TDF would lose handily. Earth would fall into Grey hands in less than three days. That is unacceptable. Wars are meant for fully engaged combatants, not those who are passive enough to find others to fight in their stead. Your plan is not about passivity, and that was successfully proven on Mars.”
“The mission was successful?”
“Very,” Faraa said. “Lieutenant Colonel Whelan is being promoted and given command of something called a ready brigade as a result. The TDF suddenly believe that their actions were the catalyst for success at the Battle of Libretto and during your exercise. They have started developing something that could achieve the goal of successfully defending Earth.”
“That’s not the intent of the reaction squadron,” I said. We’d won, but the entire concept was being perverted by commanders who had no idea how to lead soldiers or what the intent really was. A ready brigade was simply ready to deploy within hours of a conflict. They would take everything with them, rely heavily on prepositioned assets, and require a substantial supply train. It wasn’t in line with what I’d proposed, but it was a start. I was proud and satisfied while being deeply concerned at the same time.
Thirenalla raised a hand. “You are correct, and we’ll employ the reaction squadron differently.”
“How?” I shook my head. “I’m dead.”
Faraa’s pleasant look faded. “Before we continue this discussion, there are several things you need to know, Kieran. The Terran Council is responsible for the accident designed to kill you. Lieutenant Peck, promoted upon leaving the hospital, is already back on Earth with a choice assignment as an instructor at Fleet-Perth. He was graduated and promoted in no small part for his actions, obviously.”
That little son of a bitch.
“In conjunction with the attempt on your life, which we can say was deliberate beyond any doubt, the Terran Council ordered the Integration Center destroyed. It was brought down by a series of bombs and killed over a hundred people. General Crawley and your wife were also targeted.”
My entire body vibrated. “What did you say?”
“They were targeted, Kieran. General Crawley initiated measures to keep them safe. Because of the situation, we have not been in contact with General Crawley, or anyone on Earth, for that matter. In the event of something like this happening, we were to ensure you were safe. Several of the changes to your aircraft, the ones Master Sergeant Veer found and repor
ted, were designed to make sure your ejection sequence failed. Veer and her team intervened and must have been successful in reprogramming your capsule system because, at the altitude and speed you ejected, it’s unlikely your capsule would have protected you. We made sure there was genetic material in the crash site. From there, the Terran Defense Force announced the crash and your death forty-eight hours after the attack on the Integration Center.”
My hands felt cold. “Where are they? Crawley and my wife? Are they okay?”
Thirenalla sat forward. “Those two incidents met our criteria to clandestinely evacuate you from the planet while allowing the TDF to confirm your death through DNA sampling. Given the treatment of Lieutenant Peck, it was obvious that the Terran Council was involved, so we’ve been in blackout.”
“You know nothing?” I asked.
“We’re not monitoring anything from Earth. That was part of General Crawley’s plan, Kieran. There is too much opportunity for untruths in media reporting. The council can manipulate almost anything.”
“But I won’t know for twelve more days,” I said, my stomach knotting. “What if they were successful?”
“We will deal with that eventuality. As for now, we are taking you home,” Thirenalla said.
With the complete blackout, there was nothing I could do. Even talking with Lily would have ultimately served no point. I sipped the whiskey and tried to get my thoughts contained. When I was away on duty, the military mission usually overwhelmed any concerns for home, but if there was any chance of danger to the family, focusing on anything except for the mission at hand was difficult. I had no mission to distract me, and my thoughts weren’t good at all.
Berkeley is in danger. She’s in danger, and there’s not a damned thing I can do except believe that Crawley will take care of her. With my voice threatening to break, I asked, “Can I please contact my wife?”
Vendetta Protocol Page 30
