He’d seen Caleb Marano wield an alien power that made his skin crawl, then made him worry for Alex’s safety through the portal.
Simply thinking about Marano made him squirm. He didn’t understand why everyone—Alex, Miriam, Harper, Navick, Mia—not only liked but trusted the man. Former black-ops agent for a former enemy didn’t put him on firm moral footing to begin with. Whatever good he did along the way, he was still a loose cannon, a killer playing by his own rules. And now he had superpowers of alien origin.
Malcolm’s dislike of the man wasn’t jealousy. It was judgment.
The lesson having ended and the officers having skulked off to the locker room, Harper materialized beside him.
He didn’t jump in surprise, but he did flinch. He wished he could blame it on a Veil, but she hadn’t been invisible. She was just that quick. “What do you think?”
He arched an eyebrow. “I think the war will be won in space and not on the ground.”
“And where will you be?”
“I will be wherever the situation requires. As always.”
“Hey, you’re the one who convinced me these Marines needed special training. I hope you plan to use them.”
He had, and they did. Alliance Marines, Federation Marines, even a few IDCC forces who had previously been one or the other were all on the roster. He’d welcome a glimpse of insight into how they’d be called into service, but he was certain they would. Wars were won in space these days, but they were never solely fought there.
“I’m sure when the time comes, opportunities will arise for skulls to be bashed and spines to be severed.”
“Let’s hope so.” She balanced the blade hilt on her palm and activated it. Pale teal-hued plasma slithered and pulsed out into the air beyond her hand. A flick of her thumb, and the plasma shot away from the hilt to spear one of the practice targets twenty meters away. Another flick, and a new plasma blade appeared from the hilt. “And this is going to cut through the enemy’s fancy shields and thick hides and embedded uber-cybernetics?”
“That’s what the engineers tell us. The blade’s so smart, it’s practically an Artificial.”
“Sounds like a horror vid in the making: ‘The Day the Blades Woke Up.’ ”
He laughed. “In which case, we can only hope they’re friendly. The new guns, too.” The dynamic response technology driving the plasma blade was being integrated into their entire arsenal, and they weren’t saving it for the Anadens, either. The Daemon at his hip wielded similar energy; it would adapt to any resistance it met and find a way through.
“Right.” She motioned toward activity at the entry. “Now if you’ll excuse me, my next victims are here.”
“Don’t go easy on them.”
She smirked over her shoulder as she walked away. “Do I ever?”
“Nope.” He was glad to be working with her again, and grateful she’d agreed to scale back her IDCC duties in order to oversee the close combat training and help out on the cross-agency protocols and expectations.
Confident she had things well in hand, he turned to jog down the hall to the lift wearing a smile. He had a date tonight, and twenty things to do before he could leave for it.
Kennedy Rossi reached the overlook before anyone else arrived. It was good she had a minute alone, for she could hardly stop herself from bouncing on the balls of her feet in unabashed glee.
From the enclosed balcony she could behold the ship factory ‘floor’—which was located in space, obviously. To her eye the automated assembly lines were an exercise in, if not perfection, at least a new standard in hyper-efficiency and precision.
Sub-Artificial mechs supervised and directed armies of bots in hull assembly and component installation. The pre-hewn adiamene sheets were attached then the seams melted together to eliminate every possible weak point. Once the frame and hull were intact, mini-bots sculpted the interiors according to spec.
Each ship’s particular Artificial oversaw its own installation, of course, often going so far as to direct the placement of every length of photal fiber and connection into the internal systems in preparation for the transfer of its processes into the ship.
Some of the Artificials already had military Prevo partners, and in those cases one was likely to find the officer outside the Presidio’s walls, in a spacesuit, crawling around on or in their future workplace/primary residence.
A Prevo pair for every vessel frigate-class and above, sharing authority with a human captain. In an unexpected twist, the captain wasn’t going to be onboard to leash the Prevo, but rather to provide wisdom gained from real-world combat experience while putting to use leadership skills in managing and motivating a crew. Both the captains and the Prevos were carefully screened before being selected, with demonstrated adaptability and cooperative tendencies being high on the list of requirements.
It was, needless to say, a new and novel system as well as an untested one, but Miriam reported that it was working in training/stress sims so far. The simulations were also being used to develop extensive rules of engagement and decision-making protocols, but in most scenarios the captain would make important strategic decisions, the Prevo tactical ones.
She smiled broadly as two cruisers departed the manufacturing rig for flight tests. “Look what we made, Vii. Aren’t they fabulous?”
‘The ships are stunning, and the operation constructing them is a marvel, but you give me too much credit in saying ‘we.’ I have simply tried to help make the implementation of your vision safer and more sound for the individuals involved, both human and synthetic.’
“You’re too modest. In addition to all that, you’ve spurred me into some of my best innovations. Abigail would be proud, don’t you think?”
‘It is my fondest hope.’
Kennedy had hardly known Dr. Canivon before her death and knew her now only through the filter of Vii’s eyes. But she’d learned much about the woman in recent weeks—not to mention a lot about Vii, a fair amount about Valkyrie, and a great deal about Artificials as a species.
Kennedy walked into the Connova Interstellar offices and straight into a large man in a work uniform.
She took a lurching step back and frowned up at the man. “Can I help you?”
“Pardon me, ma’am. Are you Ms. Rossi?”
“Yes…” she peered over his shoulder into the office suspiciously “…but I didn’t have anything scheduled to be delivered today.”
“Someone from the company did, ma’am. If you’ll verify delivery, we’ll be out of your way.”
‘We’? Now she overtly checked around his bulky form and saw another, skinnier man exiting the storage room.
Had Noah ordered some new equipment to surprise her with? She rolled her eyes and signed off on the delivery, watched the men depart, then went to the cabinet where the server hardware…used to be. The contents had now been replaced by a larger and far more advanced quantum box.
She tilted her head to inspect it more closely. It had all the earmarks of state of the art tech—
‘You will find the rest of my hardware set up in the utility storage room. Please feel free to rearrange it as you find necessary.’
Kennedy jumped half a meter in the air and stumbled backward until she bumped against the edge of her desk. The voice was definably synthetic but with impressively natural intonation. In fact, it sounded familiar somehow. “Um…hi? Who are you and why are you in my office?”
‘My name is ‘Vii.’ Technically this is a nickname derived from ‘Valkyrie Mark II,’ but to myself I have always been Vii. I belonged to Dr. Abigail Canivon until her death, and nominally to the Druyan Institute.
‘I understand you intend to build innovative warships for Commandant-General Solovy’s AEGIS fleet—ships featuring integrated Artificials. As a free solitary Artificial under HASRA, H+ and IDCC laws, I wish to offer my services to you in this endeavor.’
Kennedy sank into her desk chair and flopped her arms down on the armrests. HASRA, the Human and
Synthetic Rights Act, was the Earth Alliance legislation that had been swiftly drafted and passed into law atop the smoldering ashes of BANIA. “In what way do you think you can help me?”
‘Access to Artificial-level processes and algorithms will both speed and improve your work in the areas of optimizing design schematics, power efficiency and component performance. However, my primary interest is somewhat personal in nature.
‘Before Abigail was murdered, she and I were working on ways to embody moral constructs and paradigms in quantum algorithms. We wanted to create Artificials who were, while not necessarily more human, certainly more sapient, whole beings. Abigail is gone, but her work is more important than ever now. Humanity has extended a hand to us, expressing trust in Artificials to act in the best interest of human life, and all life. We must be worthy of this trust.’
“You want to make the Artificials of the AEGIS fleet more…wise?”
‘More wise, more moral, more empathetic. As I said, more whole. Nowhere will an Artificial’s judgment be so crucial as on a military vessel, with hundreds or thousands of crew members under its care, civilians at its back and an enemy in its targets. These situations are what Abigail’s work was designed for, and I believe with your help I can bring it to fruition.’
Kennedy worried at her lower lip. There was no question that the dirty details of operational controls, overrides and accountability in the emerging captain-Prevo triumvirate setup were proving to be…messy. She wasn’t military, so the ultimate decisions of which directions to take were mostly Miriam’s to make, but she did need to know the answers in order to design around them.
If she could provide greater assurances as to safety—if Vii could convince Thomas who could convince Miriam of the increased safety—it would make everything so much easier. And less terrifying for all involved.
She steepled her hands and kicked the chair around absently. “So to make this happen, you faked your own Connova Interstellar credentials and arranged for yourself and all your hardware to be transported from Sagan to Romane, then had yourself installed and wired into my office?”
‘The Metigen known as Mnemosyne proclaimed we were on a tight timetable. It seemed the most efficient tack.’
Kennedy laughed. Fully actualized, self-aware and sapient or not, Vii was definitely an Artificial. She was still laughing when Noah walked in.
He stopped a few steps into the room and screwed his face up as he pointed to the cabinet. “What’s that?”
“Our new Artificial employee.”
“You commissioned an Artificial and didn’t tell me?”
“It commissioned and hired itself.”
He stared at her for a second, then at the cabinet, then shrugged. “Okay. Works for me.”
Everything moved faster once Artificials, Prevos and Mélanges—humans sporting a less-than-Prevo integration with an Artificial—were set loose upon the world. Dizzyingly fast, so much so it felt like they had blinked and the world had changed.
And now, barely two months after the Anaden Inquisitor had tried to kill Alex and Caleb, here was a fleet which dwarfed in size and technology the one Kennedy had helped build for Miriam and Volnosti just…yesterday.
Noah grabbed her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and squeezing tight. “Sorry I’m late. I had to school an Atmospheric Solutions rep about what the ‘standardized’ in ‘standardized connectors’ meant.”
“It’s fine. Miriam isn’t here yet either. I was merely admiring the view.”
“And it is so extremely view-worthy. So what’s our purpose here today?”
She twisted around to face him. “Your favorite—compliance testing review.”
“Ugh. Kill me now.”
“That would be quite the waste, now, wouldn’t it?”
They both turned to find Miriam standing in the door. She waved them toward her. “I suggested we meet here because I suspected you’d enjoy a few minutes with your ships, but we should go to a proper meeting room if we expect to get anything accomplished.”
AMARANTHE
9
ANTLIA DWARF GALAXY
LOCAL GALACTIC GROUP (LGG) REGION II
* * *
CASMIR ELASSON-MACHIM, NAVARCHOS of LGG Region II, reviewed the readiness status of the II-13C Regiment until he satisfied himself everything was in order. From the bridge of the Imperium command ship he sent a directed order into the integral. “All forces, commence Modified Eradication Operation.”
Planet AD-4508b orbited a backwater star in a backwater galaxy, yet some called it a hidden gem. Lush foliage and towering tree canopies draped the equatorial region of its fertile surface. But while it looked inviting from afar, he couldn’t recommend any safari vacations to travelers—at least not until his mission was complete.
The dominant species of AD-4508b was a giant arachnid they’d labeled ‘Kich,’ a revolting mix of spider and scorpion. When full-grown they measured nearly five meters long and four meters tall at the torso.
Despite being surrounded by copious plant life, the Kich were carnivores. Their primary food source was the ‘Ierak,’ pterodactyls which roamed the skies at night. During the daylight hours the Kich scaled the tall trees and spun webs made of a crystalline substance closer to glass than silk between the tree limbs. When darkness descended, they retreated to the surface and lurked in the groundcover, waiting.
The Ierak used a non-visual-wavelength form of sight, one which failed to detect the diaphanous webs, and any Ierak to encounter a web was instantly sliced into pieces—pieces which fell to the ground to be consumed by the Kich.
Evolve or die, and evolution wasn’t working fast enough for the Ierak.
Under normal circumstances, when a planet displaying characteristics similar to AD-4508b was discovered, a Theriz Cultivation Unit was sent in directly without the need for interim operations. The Unit would employ its massive machines to churn the surface into raw resources, plant and animal alike, then ferry the yield off for processing and refinement.
However, it seemed the webs the Kich spun were both functionally and visually unique—or so he’d been informed.
Aesthetics were not his role; they looked like ordinary webs to Casmir. But on seeing images of the Kich’s deadly creations, the Idoni Primor had declared (with appropriate dramatic flair, he assumed) she must have several sets for her various palaces.
Of course, the webs were intricately attached to the treetops, so they needed to be removed as well in order to keep the webs intact. The delicate work of extracting a bunch of trees and webs could not be accomplished while fighting off a horde of giant arachnids in the daytime and swarms of flying dinosaurs in the night.
So the decision was made to conduct a limited Eradication of the Kich first, rather than as an inevitable byproduct of Cultivation. And because this was all for a Primor, Casmir had been sent in to supervise the operation.
It should have been beneath his rank, the duty of one of countless ela-Machim overseeing minor ship groupings. But all gave way before a Primor’s wishes, so here he was.
He took small comfort from the fact clearing a single jungle would suffice to acquire the specimens required, after which the Theriz Unit could sweep in to make mincemeat of the surface.
The attack transports and CAS fighters of the LGG II-13C Regiment penetrated the atmosphere, and Casmir focused on his integral connection to the troops to monitor the operation.
The darkness is omnipresent. No moon lights the night.
Two transport vessels land in open areas on opposite ends of the targeted region. Troops move out in formation as customized vision enhancements transform night to day for them. Hovertanks take the lead. Their wide-field weapons should do the bulk of the work, leaving the troops the relatively easy job of mopping up the occasional straggler. But Machim never employ half-measures, and as always the force deployed is overwhelming both in numbers and firepower.
The air is sweltering, thick with moisture and a pungent odo
r. Alien planets often smell foul, and Casmir orders the activation of suit olfactory filters for all troops. There’s no breeze at ground level; chirps and rhythmic hums signal the presence of native creatures too small to attract the Kich’s wrath.
Plasma bombs intended to ignite the leafy undergrowth but not the hardier tree trunks drop from the CAS fighters, bringing a sea of hellfire to the landscape.
The Kich flee their cover, and the hovertanks open fire.
The front line of the creatures falls under the weight of the barrage, but a second wave surges up and over the bodies to swarm the hovertanks. Zeus, the monsters are fast! The hovertanks fire continuously, but additional Kich use the new front line as cover, then leap into the air the twenty meters required and attach themselves to the large vehicles. Webs spew forth in furious movements of thick and shockingly agile limbs to surround the frames and clog the engine ports.
The hovertanks begin to crash to the ground.
Undeterred, the ground troops open fire on the Kich using smaller, precision versions of the wide-field weapons. More Kich fall, and the ground runs thick in viscous, azure blood as the troops’ weapons rip apart the attackers. The battle begins to turn in the Regiment’s favor.
Then a third wave of Kich appears out of the shadows of the jungle. Without the hovertanks to keep them at bay and thin the herd, they plow into the troops in force.
Still, the thought the Regiment might fail in its mission does not enter Casmir’s mind. These are Machim soldiers, genetically bred for the rigors of combat. Their armor is impenetrable to most weapons, and the bodies beneath the armor are hardened to absorb abuse that would quickly kill lesser men.
From the point of view of those in the field, the Kich’s size is startling. The creatures loom large over them, rearing up to reveal hairy, barreled torsos and sturdy, sharp pincers. But unarmored organic skin can’t withstand the superheated plasma bursts of Machim weapons, no matter how tough it is.
Aurora Resonant: The Complete Collection (Amaranthe Collections Book 3) Page 8
