“No. Maya. The vision wasn’t real. I think I’d remember being burnt to a crisp.”
“You would? Michael, you live because Jamie Sheridan violated the cardinal rule of time and space. He found a way, in the moment of his death, and despite the resistance of his Jewel counterpart, to reset time. No more than a few seconds, but it doesn’t matter how long. Time is immutable. It is the one and only path that cannot be altered. There is no travel backward or forward through time.
“That brief violation of the most important law of the universe did not create a new timeline. Instead, it created a schism within the only timeline. A paradox. The three of you are dead. But the three of you live. Thousands lived because Jamie died. Thousands died because Jamie lived. You brought that paradox to this universe. No one died on SkyTower. A hundred and thirty thousand died on SkyTower. It goes on and on. It followed the Bouchet brothers into space, to forming Salvation, to realigning the Collectorate, to killing two million people on those Carriers. It followed us to Hiebimini.
“The Jewels of Eternity saw every path intersect here, but not in this fashion. They predicted the Chancellors’ creations would turn against them and lead a violent insurrection ending on Hiebimini. They saw rebellion and strife on the colonies and on Earth. But it happened faster than they imagined because they did not predict the impossible. In all their calculations, they never assumed a violation of time itself.
“Michael, you cannot die because you already did. In simplest terms, you exist outside the laws of time. You, Samantha, and James have created an impossible future, no matter what lies ahead.”
His first thought surprised him: It’s all true. A roar deep within blocked out all other rational considerations. Somehow, some way, it explained everything which always nagged at Michael from the deepest corners of his soul.
“Philadelphia Redux,” he said. “Sam and I were shot. We thought leftover Jewel energy saved us. We took bullets back in Alabama, and Jamie healed us. We thought … but it wasn’t him at all, was it?”
“No. You were shot at close range by a professional assassin. He didn’t miss. You died within seconds of each other.”
“And then we came back.”
The next realization hit Michael like a brick upside the head.
“Sam. She’s immortal!”
A second of potential bliss disappeared with the next thought.
“What about James?”
“Hard to say. Even the Jewels are uncertain. Unlike you and Sam, he is genetically bonded with Jewel energy. He recreated himself into something unique among all living things. I know you want to kill him, Michael, and it can be done. Immortality is not a guarantee, but it might be very difficult to overcome.”
What was he supposed to say or feel now? There was no playbook for this sort of business.
“Any more mind fucks you care to spring on us?”
“No.” Maya laughed. “That’s all I have.”
“Good. Best news I’ve heard all day.”
46
Lioness
J AMES BIT HIS TONGUE and listened without interrupting. Valentin ordered James to the executive conference room immediately upon return via the rescue ship. Now, Valentin held court, making preparations for war, never once commenting on their losses. Fifty-one immortals dead. Ulrich Rahm dead. No chance to grieve, no official notification to their people in JaRa. This was unacceptable, but James stewed silently in his rage because he stood upon perilous ground.
After all, he owned this defeat and the inevitable disgrace when news reached their people. What of their colonial allies? Would the setback undermine his claim to offer protection against the Chancellory? How many would see James as a false god? How soon might they turn to Earth to reestablish Collectorate ties? And if they did, how long before Valentin usurped his older brother?
James did not utter a word, but his mind worked with feverish anticipation of his next moves.
“In summation,” Valentin told James and Admiral Kane, “I base our strategy on three assumptions. First: Invasion is imminent. Second: Guard ships have a technology capable of neutralizing the refractor network blockading the Nexus. Third: The Guard has developed mobile wormhole tech on par with Slope.
“Therefore, we have no choice but to mobilize our people for the defense of Aeterna. In the next twenty-six hours, we upgrade every immortal and hybrid of fighting age to combat status. Tactical body armor and full weapons complement assigned to everyone. All Recon tubes in JaRa will focus solely on processing customized armor. Long-term infrastructure projects will be halted. All soldiers will be trained on how to use the S1 Convex Tracking Gradient in their helmet. In addition, we must complete the city’s defensive perimeter. JaRa’s entire supply of rifters will be assigned to this purpose.”
Valentin spoke from the end of the long table, a variety of holowindows open, his new black-and-bronze armor gleaming. James and Admiral Rafael Kane sat across from each other. He continued:
“We must arrange sorties to establish intermediate and long-range patrol zones between Aeterna and the Nexus. We now have only six Scram-class transports, but we’ll make it work. We will designate five for the patrols, each loaded with a complement of slews and an expulsion driver fitted with refractors. The other ship will remain in JaRa to handle the unforeseen. Questions?”
Valentin looked at Kane as he concluded, ignoring his brother.
“Yes, sir,” Kane said. “What about Lioness? We’re a huge target, literally and symbolically.”
“True. I want Lioness to act as command-and-control for as long as it’s capable. Select a small crew – enough to man the bridge – but be prepared to spool the wormhole drivers if and when your position is compromised. Shut down nonessential systems and production line.”
“What of the Chancellor workers? We still have fifty-three.”
Valentin flashed a daring glance at James.
“Confine them to quarters, make sure the kiosks are stocked for a week’s supply. As long as they have value, we will not space them.”
“Very good, sir. You understand Guard tactical strategy better than any of us, Valentin. How do you expect them to attack?”
“Carefully. This will be as new to them as it is to us. The Unification Guard was never challenged before Salvation, so their ships were never designed for interstellar combat. In the past, they used orbital bombardment from Carriers, or deploying peacekeepers for close ground combat, which is their specialty. This will be a hybrid attack with retrofitted capital ships – mostly troop transports and Hemmler-class command liners – supported by Scramjets. They will proceed with caution. Whether they arrive by wormhole or breaking the blockade, they will not risk their core fleet until they scout the system. Our patrols will Slope to their positions to take out their scouts while they’re most vulnerable.”
Kane sighed. “If they follow this strategy, we will hold our own. What about the worst-case scenario?”
Valentin nodded but did not change his expression. Though James saw deep concern, he detected no fear.
“If the enemy is Slope-capable, they might use GPNM mapping to open wormholes inside the atmosphere and bypass our perimeter defenses. However, I believe the Admiralty wants a swift, decisive assault. They can only guarantee this through proper scouting. They know nothing of what Aeterna has become, or our defensive capability. Smart admirals do not order a blind invasion. And then there’s our wildcard, the Towers.”
At last, Valentin turned to his brother.
“James, now would be a good time to tell us their purpose.”
“Ah, so you did call me here for a reason. Thank you, brother.” He shifted uneasily in his swivel. “I know only what the Jewels tell me – the Towers will be used when all else fails.”
Valentin’s irritation morphed into a scowl, like he knew James was withholding crucial information. I won’t try to make you believe me. You don’t trust a word I say, brother.
“It would help, James, if we underst
ood what ‘all else’ encompasses and how far we must ‘fail.’ We don’t know how the Towers work. Do the Jewels control them from inside Aeterna? I find it difficult to believe you haven’t had this conversation with them.”
James shrugged. “We don’t talk as much as you assume. Since we arrived, they’ve taken a step back.”
“Ah. They want to see how we fare without them. You’ve told me this repeatedly, James. But I wonder. Now that we’ve lost almost seven percent of our population and one-third of our Scram-class fleet in a single defeat, they must be worried about us. Yes?”
There it was. The first mention. You were waiting for the perfect moment to strike, brother.
“I’m sure they are, Valentin. But why would they confide in someone as arrogant and reckless as me? Perhaps they’ll set their sights on a stronger and more competent brother.”
Valentin dropped his eyes and said nothing. James found fleeting humor in Kane’s awkward attempt to avoid contact with either brother.
“I think,” James told Kane, “this is the point where Admiral Valentin dismisses you.”
“Yes, Admiral Kane,” Valentin said. “Perhaps it would be best. Begin initiating my orders. And Rafael, choose the most experienced Slope navigators who also have training with weapons consoles. We might have to send them out there alone.”
“Understood.”
After Kane departed, Valentin threw away the holowindows and turned his back to James.
“I congratulate you, brother,” the Admiral said, surprising James.
“For what, Valentin?”
“You cost the lives of dozens of our beautiful and passionate warriors, most of them mere children, but your fiasco tipped the Chancellory’s hand. They’d have never sacrificed those facilities and their people unless their work was finished.”
“You’re guessing, brother.”
“No, James. I was a soldier of the Guard and the son of Emil and Frances Bouchet. I revered men like Augustus Perrone. I recited the core principles of Elevation Philosophy as a daily mantra. I assure you, they are coming for us.”
“So, now we go to war.” James watched Valentin carefully for any signs of a crack. “You are about to work our people into a frenzy, and they don’t yet know what happened. Are you going to hide our shame and hope the fight of their lives will distract them?”
“Our shame, you say?”
James shrugged. “I gave the order, but you drew up the plans, Valentin. You gave our soldiers the motivational speech. And then, you stayed behind, comfortable on Lioness.”
Valentin started to pivot but stopped. James sensed his brother fighting the rage.
“If I had gone, I would be dead, too, and you would be leading our people into ruin. I’m not taking your bait.”
“So, Admiral, how do you intend to break the news?”
“What you mean to ask is whether I will expose you and use my leverage to gain concessions regarding the future of the immortals. Don’t deny it.” Now, Valentin swung about, a confident air about him. Shoulders firm and tall, nose perched.
James fumed. “Is that how petty you think I am?”
“Petty? No. Paranoid? Off the scale.”
“It has to be addressed, brother.”
“I intend to craft a statement. They will be lauded as heroes. We will blame the Guard for triggering a fusion bomb in the Void as we were on the brink of victory. It’s not far from the truth. They will see images of the catastrophe on Tamarind. This will incite them when I announce the coming invasion and justify a delay in any official period of mourning. They will be too busy to cast blame.”
“Not bad. Very nuanced. I wonder …”
“You will receive no mention one way or the other. Their orders will be clear: All military matters will come through me and Rafael Kane. This includes the hybrids. I expect you to deliver that message to the collective mind. Understood, James?”
“Certainly. But my people will grieve in spite of themselves. Just as they did with Sister Ursula. They will ask difficult questions.”
“You will not answer, James.”
“Ah. I am what, now? Your puppet during a time of war?”
“You are no one’s puppet, James.”
“But you intend to override my orders?”
“On all military matters, absolutely.”
“What happened to deference? I am your older brother.”
Valentin rolled his eyes and shuffled toward the exit.
“A Chancellor tradition. Honor the eldest sibling, for he or she was the first chosen. Hmmph. I turned my back on the Chancellory three years ago. I clung to tradition out of respect. But that’s gone now.”
“The tradition or the respect?”
“Yes.”
Valentin opened the door, but James was not through with him.
“What should I do, respectful brother, while you plan for war?”
“Do what suits you best. Return to JaRa and scheme with your wife. But James,” Valentin said, hogging the threshold, “I would take care, if I were you. The ground beneath your feet is softer than you think.”
“Are you threatening me, brother?”
“No. But our people would be confused at best and enraged at worst if they knew the full litany of decisions you’ve made these past four months. One week after we set foot on Aeterna, I organized scouting sorties to survey every uninhabited system along the Fulcrum. All one hundred sixty-three. I said the Carriers likely offloaded some of their military assets during the evacuation to Earth. The Admiralty would choose one off-book location to park an invasion fleet.
“You thought I was being an alarmist. You said we needed to preserve all our ships for planetside and diplomatic missions to the colonies. You canceled my sorties. Now, they have had months to solidify their fleet and retrofit with their new technology. Right out of our own playbook, James. We can’t hide this time. Our people will be so confused. They’ll be devastated. And the Guard will surely end us.”
Valentin didn’t wait around for a response. After the door slid shut, James pounded the table.
Why didn’t he see it sooner? Valentin would use war as a cover to assert control. After their inevitable victory – guaranteed, because the Jewels long ago showed James a future empire stretching out from Aeterna – Valentin would use his popularity to capture their hearts and minds while using propaganda to undermine James’s credibility. He would kill James and claim he was saving the people from a madman.
No longer a Chancellor, Valentin? Traitorous fuck. You will always be a Chancellor.
James organized his thoughts and pushed through the collective mind until he found Rayna.
“Expect me soon.”
Later, after returning to JaRa, he bypassed a visit with his newborn daughters and isolated himself with his wife. He told her everything. The case against Valentin was unshakeable, he insisted.
“This is no time,” Rayna said, “to come undone, husband. We have greater enemy to defeat. Support him. Encourage our people. They will lose heart if they lose their Admiral. We can destroy Valentin another way.”
“How?”
“I have idea.” She kissed him. “I always have best ideas. No?”
47
S AM WOKE FOR THE SECOND straight morning and expected Michael to be lying next to her. He’d stare for a moment then whisper every reason why he couldn’t possibly leave bed until at least noon. Then he’d pull the silk spread over them and explore. Most days in Boston began that way.
She didn’t know why this memory returned on her sixth and seventh days in JaRa and felt so immediate, but it didn’t trouble Sam. Rather, it settled her nerves. She was still a hostage surrounded by the enemy, but her domed habitat seemed less like a prison. As long as she attended her assigned duties, the immortals did not wear scowls in her presence. The whispers about her rumored association with Brother James diminished. In addition, she avoided Rayna for two days. Did Valentin scare her off? Not likely, she thought. No one scare
s Rayna. She assumed Rayna was mothering her newborns; Sam pitied the life awaiting those girls.
At eighteen, she was older than almost all the immortals. This fact carried a certain cachet. Sam’s experiences on two Earths doubled their intrigue. The children along the food production line loved to indulge in horror stories of their “mortal” homes among the colonies and create imaginative tales of what life on Aeterna would be like through the coming centuries. It broke the monotony of peeling, slicing, scaling, grating, dicing, and coring. They encouraged Sam’s participation. Sam recognized their bubbling enthusiasm and hyperbole: This was a middle school cafeteria, minus the relationship drama.
However, they were also single-minded zealots, eager to wage war against anyone who threatened Salvation. Sam never asked who among them had killed for the cause, but many participated in off-world missions, and all were trained. They laughed at awkward jokes, never brought up romantic or sexual innuendo, and shared gossip about the hybrids who they knew the least.
Sam blended among them with an ease which caught her off-guard. In Albion, Alabama, she was the shy, annoying bookworm who classmates neither understood nor appreciated. Most of the time, she ate alone in the cafeteria, a fate she blamed on Daddy – the architect of her manufactured persona. Among the Chancellory, she was an interloper to be tolerated, an inconvenient beast thrust upon them by disastrous circumstance and a generous inheritance. These immortal children shared a common bond: They despised the lives forced upon them before they were liberated.
Whenever Sam dared to feel empathy, she reminded herself of a simple distinction: Each of these children rose from the dead and would enter battle unconcerned about death, even mocking it.
Rosa Marteen, the thirteen-year-old who took to Sam like a sister during the negotiations near Mars, embellished her tale of that mission while unsheathing yellow potatoes with a phasic driver.
The Impossible Future: Complete set Page 134
