He breathed out deliberately and worked to ground himself. He didn’t often wake up disoriented, not when being aware and observant in the first seconds may be crucial to survival.
Once he’d convinced himself he remained where he’d been—the Siyane—and no threats lurked in the shadows, he checked to make sure he hadn’t woken Alex.
She continued to sleep, but it looked fitful. He gently stroked her arm while murmuring whispers of comfort in her ear. It could simply be an unpleasant dream; still, he wouldn’t be surprised if the deep interaction with the Reor had sparked a craving, if only a subconscious one. But her distress seemed minor, and after a few minutes she calmed without waking.
He settled back to contemplate why he was awake.
The aberrant dreams were becoming more frequent, and as absurd as it sounded, he couldn’t rightly claim them as his own. They felt like visions…or recollections. He lifted his left hand off the covers and stared at it until faint crimson flecks appeared above it.
Seeing as he’d lived through no such events to recall, either Amaranthe was fucking with his head in new and unprecedented ways or the dreams belonged to the diati. Dreams of a time long past, of a time when the Anadens were more human than monster, of a time when the symbiotic relationship between the diati and the Praesidis bloodline had been forged in furtherance of a noble purpose.
The world the dreams revealed…it was like viewing humanity’s present through a warped mirror, at once strikingly familiar and altogether alien.
Was the diati trying to show him something, something he needed to know? If so, he’d really appreciate a better articulation of it, because the message wasn’t getting through.
Or were the dreams just noise, the overflow of too much information and too many thoughts of two consciousnesses sharing the same space?
He’d gradually become convinced Mesme was right on this point. The diati was in fact alive. He couldn’t communicate with it and he definitely couldn’t hold a conversation with it, but it was alive nonetheless. The dreams, however, suggested it wasn’t merely alive but conscious and self-aware, even sapient. He didn’t feel like he now shared his body with another incarnate entity, but there it was.
In Amaranthe, life expressed itself in many more and stranger ways than anything they’d ever encountered at home. That was by design, of course; Aurora had been created as an isolated test environment bound by rigid and controlled variables. The real universe was as fascinating and terrifying as they’d always imagined it should be.
A pulse from Valkyrie interrupted his reverie.
Caleb, Mnemosyne is requesting to speak with us. Do you want to wake Alex?
Almost as if she knew—had Valkyrie inadvertently nudged her subconscious?—Alex stirred in his arms, not fitfully but languidly. He ignored the query for a minute to welcome her to wakefulness properly.
She murmured contentedly against his lips, and he drew back with a great deal of reluctance. “So our favorite Kat wants to talk to us.”
“Now?”
Valkyrie answered. ‘I’m afraid so. Mnemosyne claims it is urgent.’
Alex stretched until her fingers wiggled above her head, then curled her long arms and legs around his body. “Fine, but audio only—no showing up in our bedroom.”
‘I will pass your terms along.’
She proceeded to trail lazy kisses down his chest in a manner which was becoming highly distracting by the time Mesme’s supernal voice filled their heads.
I have received word of a most troubling occurrence. An Inquisitor has visited Katoikia, removed two stasis chambers and departed with them.
“Katoikia?”
The Katasketousya homeworld. I fear our ability to act in secrecy is rapidly coming to an end. Lakhes has authorized an evacuation of the population’s stasis chambers into the Mosaic, but such a momentous act needs oversight.
If you wish to see my homeworld, I recommend you go there now, for this may mark the last time any of us will see it.
Alex’s gaze rose to meet his, and he sighed. “That’s dire.”
She frowned. “I have to admit, I am a bit curious about where the Kats came from. And while we have things we can do, we’re still kind of in a holding pattern until we hear from Eren.”
His chin notched down in agreement, and she propped up on her forearms. “Okay, Mesme. We don’t want to be a distraction from the evacuation, but we’ll come visit. Give Valkyrie the coordinates.”
Done. Now I must attend to such matters.
“Bye, Mesme.”
In the silence that fell, she rested her head on his chest. He gently ran a hand through her hair, coaxing it back over her shoulders until he could see her face.
She regarded him pensively. “It’s starting, isn’t it?”
AURORA
19
SENECA STELLAR SYSTEM
SENECA LUNAR SSR CENTER
* * *
THE EIDOLON SKIMMED less than three meters above the lunar surface—so close it stirred up puffs of basalt in its wake—and two meters closer than a human pilot could reliably maintain.
The blast of a laser from one of the drones splashed across the field of view before vanishing into the rift.
Commander Morgan Lekkas made a note in her log files:
Test parameters: 2.8 meters in altitude, 1.4 terajoule drone weapon power, 450-meter distance
Result: 100% energy capture with 0% spillage damage.
She confirmed the numbers then instructed the pilot to move on to the next testing scenario.
Though completely immersed in the full-sensory feed from the pilot, an ache in her neck nagged at the edge of her perception. Too long in the sim chair.
Sometimes it felt like she spent more time in a sim chair than a cockpit chair these days. Wasn’t this what she’d left Seneca to get away from? Yet here she was once again—and of her own free volition now, no less.
She wasn’t ungrateful for peace reigning across settled space, but it did have its negatives, the biggest one being there was nothing to shoot at. Nothing real, anyway.
It made for a bit of an out-of-body experience to have her hand rub the side of her neck back in the chair. She shook off the odd sensation and tried to concentrate on the test flight.
The Eidolon wasn’t merely a new design—it was an entirely new model of starship. Part interdictor, part fighter, part stealth interceptor, it fell under the broad rubric of ‘multi-role tactical attack craft.’ It boasted the speed and agility of a fighter while carrying a larger, sturdier frame.
Also, it was piloted solely by a compact Artificial, consciously whole and complete but specially crafted for the purpose of flying and operating all facets of the ship.
No human pilot meant no need for life support systems or a spacious cockpit. The freed-up space and decreased logistical requirements meant the designers were able to fit a large enough power core into the frame to support a small Dimensional Rifter.
The engineering required to make it all work was mind-bogglingly complex, even for a Prevo, but it did seem to be working. None of the prototype models had exploded or crashed, which was a great first step. Better yet, their in-flight performance was exemplary.
Morgan continued to believe that a solitary Artificial could never best a Prevo pilot in on-the-spot decision-making and cleverness of tactics. But she might be willing to concede the other benefits outweighed the disadvantage in ninety-five percent of scenarios.
Weapons testing—targeting, locking, accuracy and so on—would come later. Today she was testing maneuverability, but also the mini-Rifter. It was a drastically scaled-down version, though the engineers said this shouldn’t matter, since the device only needed to capture offensive fire that would otherwise impact the vessel’s small profile.
Still, there were special considerations to be taken into account when using such advanced equipment on a ship this small. And this new. Cutting-edge. Unproven.
She rolled her eyes in her mind. At l
east it wouldn’t be untested.
The next test scenario began, and the Eidolon pivoted and accelerated straight for one of the field drones. She sent an instruction to the drone to hold off firing until the range was less than fifty meters. When the boundary was crossed her entire field of vision flashed white, and the pilot pulled up to soar barely a meter over the drone.
She studied the readings from the Rifter with half her attention while letting the ship cruise—then the other half of her vision caught a plume of flame in the distance 30° to her port, possibly on the lunar surface.
What the hell was that?
PRESIDIO
GCDA HEADQUARTERS
Field Marshal Nolan Bastian showed up on holo seconds after Morgan arrived in the conference room. She knew him by sight, but in her years as a flight commander with the Federation military their paths had crossed only in the loosest sense.
Miriam acknowledged him in her usual no-frills manner while Morgan eased into one of the chairs. “You have an update on the incident, Marshal?”
The holocam didn’t attempt to place him here in the conference room, instead tracking him as he moved around an office, presumably at the provisional Military Headquarters. “A plasma energy eruption occurred at 1821 local near the exterior of the Equipment Testing Annex on the perimeter of the Lunar SSR Center grounds. The Annex maintains its own force fields separate from the main Research Center facility, and both of the Annex’s protective fields were disrupted. The structure was physically ruptured, venting one-third of the interior air before internal blast doors sealed off the remainder of the building.
“There were six fatalities on the scene, and three people remain in critical condition—two suffering from exposure and one from multiple shrapnel injuries.”
“Is there any ongoing threat to the facility?”
“Negative. Power has been restored to the force fields and temporary bulwarks have been placed over the damaged portion of the structure to seal the rupture.”
Morgan leaned into the table. “Marshal Bastian, you called it a ‘plasma energy eruption.’ That’s an interesting choice of words. Why not label it a detonation or explosion?”
He regarded her with a mix of curiosity and consternation, which was fine. She was used to befuddling high-ranking military officers. Besides, as the leader of all IDCC combat forces, she technically stood on equal footing with him.
“Because of the nature of the work performed at the test site, we employ comprehensive vidcam monitoring of the facility and its vicinity. Here’s what the closest cam captured.”
She started to protest how that wasn’t any kind of answer when footage began streaming to the main screen above the conference table. It showed a quiet scene recently familiar to her, with the only movement being the subtle shimmer of the Annex’s outer force field.
Abruptly a silvery stream of energy materialized quite literally out of nowhere several meters outside the field. It surged into the barrier then tore through it, the internal force fields and the building they protected.
Morgan sank back in her chair. “The stream looks a damn lot like the fire the test drones produce.”
“My analysts tell me there’s an 82.4% likelihood it is precisely that.”
She met Miriam’s inquiring gaze with a touch of anxiousness. The reason Morgan was in the room was because the Eidolon had been on the field engaging the test drones when the incident occurred. But she’d honestly expected it to be nothing more than coincidence.
Solovy returned her attention to the holo. “Thank you, Marshal. I would appreciate it if you could forward me a copy of the cam footage so my people can analyze it as well. I will of course send you the entirety of their findings. I’ll see to it the families of the deceased receive official condolences from AEGIS.”
Silence hovered for a moment as Bastian’s expression betrayed greater emotion than was appropriate for a man of his rank. “That’s it?”
Miriam didn’t flinch. Then again, Morgan had never seen the woman do so. “We are at the beginning of an investigation, Marshal, and I will not make assumptions or jump to conclusions in the absence of persuasive data. I will endeavor to find answers, and the effort will be transparent within AEGIS leadership, of which you are a member. Now, please, let us do our jobs.”
Morgan smirked at the response; she could have squelched it, but no one was paying her any mind at present. Solovy wasn’t exactly bosom buddies with Bastian the way she’d been with Gianno, was she?
The Field Marshal seemed to accept the response, if reluctantly. “Very well. I will keep you updated, and trust you will do the same.” His holo vanished.
Miriam exhaled and, after a few seconds, turned to Morgan. “Alex said the Rifter sent a weapon’s energy into…nothingness, or into a black hole of sorts.”
“I don’t understand the physics the way Alex does, or even Devon, but we all believed that’s what happened. That’s what the equations say…but let’s be honest, no one’s ever derived equations like these before, and I’m not sure they will look any different if we discover the energy’s up to something else on the back end.”
“How about other possibilities? What else might have caused the accident?”
A surge of protectiveness welled up inside her. “It wasn’t the Eidolon’s fault, I can guarantee it. It didn’t do anything wrong—it performed beautifully, in fact. There could have been a drone malfunction elsewhere on the field, maybe? I’d encourage you to have someone review the status of all the active drones in the area around the time of the incident. But yes. It’s probably a glitch with the Rifter.”
“What do you think the chances are the problem is isolated to this particular Rifter, or to the new, smaller model? I know you’re not an engineer—I’m asking for your gut instinct.”
“Both are possibilities, but right now I’d have to say it’s just as likely the problem is inherent in the Rifter technology.”
“Okay. Why do you say that?”
The questions were intense enough she sort of wanted to flee, but they weren’t accusatory. Morgan got the impression the woman genuinely wanted to understand the problem, so she took a stab at it.
“The drone strike the Eidolon fielded immediately before the explosion was point-blank. The laser traveled approximately thirty-six meters from origin to impact with the rift. To my knowledge, this is the closest hit a Rifter has been subjected to, by a wide margin, and the explosion occurred seven hundred or so meters away.
“What if these terminus ruptures have been happening all along—they’ve simply happened too far away for us to realize it?”
Miriam’s eyes widened briefly. “There have been no reports of unexplained explosions or physical damage associated with Rifter usage.”
“Space is 99.9% empty void. Odds are, the expelled energy has never hit anything before.” She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just a guess—and I’m the last person who should be guessing about this type of thing, so don’t take my word for it. Put your experts in ASCEND on it.”
“I will. And I’m suspending all Dimensional Rifter use pending the outcome of the investigation, effective as of now. You and your team can continue to test the Eidolon’s other components, but only in deep space for now.”
Morgan’s lips twitched. The Eidolon would be exonerated; of this she had zero doubt. And it damn well better be soon. “Understood.”
“Thank you, Commander. Dismissed.”
When Commander Lekkas departed, Miriam remained in the conference room. Her office brought a constant stream of distractions, but while she was in here and the door was shut, barring an emergency no one ought to bother her for a few minutes.
The Dimensional Rifter was the best defensive tool they had in their arsenal, and she didn’t want to let it go. It had saved her life.
But she recognized the hubris involved in blithely playing with dimensions they could neither see nor fathom. The fact that doing so held dangers should not be a surprise, and to
ignore them would be the height of vainglory.
“Thomas, what’s your off-the-cuff opinion?”
‘I have been analyzing the issue for 7.6 seconds. I am not certain this qualifies as ‘off-the-cuff.’ ’
“I generally indulge your special brand of humor, but now’s not the time.”
‘Apologies. Crowdsource the problem.’
“In what way?”
‘Your daughter and Valkyrie together might be able to unravel the mystery, but they are not here at present. Mr. Reynolds and Ms. Requelme are both highly preoccupied with more personal troubles, and Commander Lekkas admits she is not qualified. You have several talented scientists and engineers in ASCEND you can call upon, and you should do so.
‘But the fastest and most likely way to get the answers you need is to crowdsource it. To the Noesis.’
“You think I should share the classified specs and capabilities of the Dimensional Rifter, plus the details of the incident at the Lunar SSR Center, with hundreds of thousands of non-military individuals—many of them hackers and counterculture enthusiasts—as well as their Artificials, of which we know nothing about?”
‘Miriam, they already know most of the information and are busily deducing the rest. Whether you intended it or not, your Volnosti victory set in motion the blossoming of a society and culture that is more open, more democratic and more autonomous than any which have preceded it.’
She smiled wryly. “Are you saying such antiquated notions as top-secret military classifications no longer serve a necessary purpose in this ‘new society’?”
‘I am saying such notions have become irrelevant, whether they serve a purpose or not. Calling something secret does not make it so.’
“So it doesn’t.” She fell silent.
Arguably she should consult with a few others before moving ahead on Thomas’ suggestion—the GCDA Advisory Board, or at a minimum the EA and SF military and government heads. On the other hand, the whole point of her position was to transcend individual governments and proprietary militaries. The quiet state of emergency which had existed since the GCDA’s formation gave her the authority to act.
Aurora Resonant: The Complete Collection (Amaranthe Collections Book 3) Page 14
