Theriz interjected. “What of the resources that will be lost? The Provision Network is named so for a reason.”
At least this was a practical analysis. “We will double our exploration and exploitation of new worlds. Bulk up your numbers, Theriz. You’re going to be busy.”
Theriz shook his head insistently. “I will do so, but the shortfall will be far too great to bridge for years, if it can be bridged at all. People will starve, and allowing people to starve will undermine the premise of our authority. Difficulties will arise.”
Machim scoffed. “The premise of our authority is strength and force. We will swiftly crush any ‘difficulties’ which arise.”
“And when you can no longer manufacture sufficient ships because you’re out of rare metals? Thirty-two percent of your materials supply comes from the Provision Network, Machim—or had you forgotten? No. I’m sorry, as I realize it eliminates the simple approach—just blow it up—but we require a renewable supply of the resources the Provision Network provides.”
The argument continued in increasingly heated tones until Praesidis stepped forward, breaking the perfect arc of their circle to exert subtle authority. “Enough. Theriz speaks the truth, I fear, thus a more intricate response is necessary. As I’ve shared, we have reason to believe multiple spaces exist inside what we are calling the Provision Network, only a few of which actually house said provisions.
“I suggest Machim send a substantial number of warships into the Network armed with Igni missiles to destroy any and all portal spaces which are unrelated to resource cultivation. Leave the provision spaces intact, and we will indenture the necessary Katasketousya to continue to provide the resources under a far more controlled system.”
Machim nodded. “It’s a viable plan. But they deserve to be Eradicated.”
“We only need to spare a few of them to serve our purposes, all of whom are located in the Network, ostensibly tending to it. We will issue an Eradication order for all Katasketousya currently in Amaranthe, effective immediately.”
The expressions varied around the circle, but no one leapt forward to object. “No further input? Vote.”
The tally came in 8-3 in favor of the plan as he had presented it, and Machim began making arrangements. “Is the Provision Network Gateway in MW Sector 51 our entry point?”
Praesidis answered. “There are allegedly other, hidden entrances, but we currently know the location of only one, and it may lead to a spur. The Gateway offers the most likely and direct access to the additional spaces.”
“Understood. My designated fleet will acquire the necessary Igni missiles and proceed there. ETA to the Gateway is sixty-three hours.”
45
ANTLIA DWARF GALAXY
LGG REGION II
* * *
CASMIR WATCHED THE GROUND ENGAGEMENT through the eyes of the CAS fighter pilots. It was a bloodbath in the most literal sense, but it was a bloodbath the Ch’mshak were winning. Their guttural howls filled the night air, drowning out the hisses of the Kich.
The Ch’mshak fought Kich to Kich, clawing and pummeling and slicing. They cut through the webbing as it was spun, having quickly learned not to let it entomb them. It helped that they stood nearly as tall as the creatures, for it greatly minimized the Kich’s ability to force them to the ground where they might be webbed more easily.
Casmir grudgingly gave the Ch’mshak their due: they were as close to perfect hand-to-hand fighters as he’d ever seen. The resilience of their bodies—they were almost impossible to take down in close combat—combined with a modicum of intelligence and a complete lack of fear made them vicious but strikingly effective killing machines.
This was going to take a while, but he believed it would end in a victory. The Ch’mshak losses would be high, but such matters had never seemed to concern the brutes and it certainly did not concern Casmir. By this time tomorrow, he hoped to be able to authorize the specialized Theriz Cultivation Unit, called in due to the delicate nature of the work required, to begin extraction operations.
A summons rang loud in his head and grew in intensity until it became a compulsion he could not refuse.
He withdrew from close observation and departed the bridge for his private office, where he squared his shoulders and breathed in. It was colder in the office than usual, but he dared not spare the time to address it now. After the meeting.
“Primor, it is an honor to speak with you. How may I serve?”
“Casmir, I realize you believe your current assignment beneath you, and you are not wrong. I appreciate you displaying the humility necessary for us to humor Idoni, and your sacrifice has not gone unnoticed. But now I’m sending you on a far more vital mission, one which only someone with your skills and experience can be trusted to accomplish.”
His chest bowed up in pride. “Thank you, sir. I await your instructions.”
“You are to gather together three Divisions and proceed to the Advanced Weaponry Development Facility at Centauri E, where you will retrieve one hundred Igni missiles. You’ll also be met there by an elasson-rank Inquisitor who will accompany you on your mission. Once equipped, take your fleet to the Katasketousya Provision Network Gateway in MW Sector 51 and traverse it.
“On the other side, we anticipate you will find a series of sub-portals using extra dimensions to create new, self-contained regions of space. With the exception of the spaces operating as part of the Provision Network itself, you are to use the Igni missiles to destroy these portals.”
It was not the first bizarre, out-of-nowhere assignment he had ever received, but on initial evaluation it ranked quite high on the list for several reasons.
The Katasketousya had never been a threat; they gave form to the meaning of ‘docile.’ As for the Igni missiles, they were among the Machim fleets’ most destructive weapons. Powerful enough to annihilate a small moon in a single blast, they were heavy, cumbersome, expensive and volatile.
As such, they were called upon solely when other options became non-viable. And he was supposed to acquire one hundred of them? “Primor—”
“You will receive background information explaining the reasons for the mission once you are en route, and the Inquisitor will have additional details as well, but you must begin immediately. Time is of the essence.”
He shivered, as much from the solemn tenor of the Primor’s voice as from the noticeable chill in the air. He sensed it wasn’t necessary to inquire about what had been his pending assignment in the Maffei I galaxy, but the current mission was of some import…. “Of course, sir. The operation here at AD-4508b is nearing completion, and I believe it will be successful. However, if I depart now I cannot guarantee that outcome. What of the Idoni Primor’s request?”
“Idoni will get over herself. Start moving, Casmir.”
A flicker in the corner of his eye distracted him, as if a shadow had moved—but it was only his own, palpitating in anticipation of a new challenge. The Primor’s directive could not be more clear. “Yes, Primor. It will be done.”
AURORA
46
PRESIDIO
GCDA HEADQUARTERS
* * *
RICHARD HAD REAMS OF DISJOINTED data points strewn on and above the table by the time Will walked in to join him.
His husband soaked it all in with a glance, raised an eyebrow and half-sat on the edge of the table. He slid a fresh mug of coffee across the surface to Richard. “Any progress?”
Richard splayed a palm out. The center of the war zone he called work product grew larger until the single name at the heart of it loomed over the data, the table, the room and him:
Olivia Montegreu
“In one way or another, be it through multiple intermediaries and blinds, shell corps, bank accounts for bank accounts or merely aliases, every piece of information we have can be tracked back to her.
“The men who attacked Mia Requelme’s house were hired by an independent broker and the virus was provided via a dead-drop locker, but th
e broker was contracted by a known front for Zelones. The ones who hit the hospital belonged to a particularly vicious group out of Krysk that the Ferres used to contract—before Montegreu killed the entire family—to do their dirty work. The skycar responsible for putting Morgan Lekkas in a coma was rented under a pseudonym previously used by multiple Zelones lieutenants.”
He paused only long enough to take a breath. “The man who fled the scene of the attack on Devon and Emily was found dead in an alley, but forensics ID’ed him as one of Kigin’s thugs, and Kigin was the principal Zelones rep on Pandora. The mercs on the Baladan were killed by an enhanced version of a weapon used by Montegreu’s most elite hit squads. Etcetera, etcetera.”
Will nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe all this is being perpetrated by what remains of the Zelones leadership, under the theory if they exact public revenge for her death, they’ll regain some respect from the other cartels.”
“Possibly. But in that scenario, wouldn’t they just kill their targets in a straightforward manner and move on? These tailored hits are far too personal for a simple power play. The man who attacked Jenner practically reenacted his hit on Montegreu, and this virus is intended to torture the Prevos it infects before it kills them.”
“Granted. But the irrefutable fact remains that she is dead, physically. Her body expired. Adult cloning is still a long way off—even Dr. Canivon hadn’t made much progress on it. So whatever we’re talking about, we’re not talking about her in the flesh.”
Richard sighed. “There have been reported sightings of her at various locations, but when probed they all evaporate. So, absent some absurd scenario we can’t begin to envision, yes. Olivia Montegreu the human being is dead.”
He stared at the surfeit of data before him. “She didn’t have any lieutenants clever enough to plan and execute on something this convoluted, and she killed any rival capable of it. There’s simply no one left alive associated with her who possesses the wherewithal to pull this off.”
“So it looks, acts, smells and talks like Olivia Montegreu—but it can’t be a duck. Okay. Is it conceivable she uploaded a copy of her consciousness somewhere before she died? Is that even possible?”
“Several of the Prevo Artificials have transferred their consciousness into their human partners, but going in the other direction? I wasn’t aware we’d succeeded in defining the parameters of human consciousness, much less isolate it, much less lob it around.”
Richard started wandering beyond the table. “I’ll tell you why I don’t like this hypothesis. These attacks? They feel…petty. Montegreu was a psychopath and an egomaniacal narcissist, but she wasn’t petty. When she took it upon herself to execute a hit personally, she had business reasons for doing so, and she executed it with ruthless efficiency.”
Will sipped on his coffee. “What if the consciousness upload wasn’t complete? As you said, we don’t know precisely how to do it. So maybe she tried, but it wasn’t entirely successful. What if the copy is broken?”
He stopped mid-pace. “Not a bad theory. It would mean…what? Some shard of her consciousness is floating around the exanet trying to imitate herself? Well, that’s not creepy at all.”
Richard ran a hand down his face and went back for his coffee. “I can’t fathom how such an entity would gain access to the funds and accounts needed to execute on all these operations. Or, you know, exist. And I really want to be able to explain this without having to resort to religion, metaphysics or the supernatural.”
Will’s grin flitted through the virtual grid lines of the charts and graphs.
“What?”
“I like watching you work.”
“Watching me flail and stumble around trying to grasp hold of a glimpse of an answer, you mean.”
Will shrugged. “Among other things. What about her Artificial? What happened to it?”
“We’ve assumed the former Triene mercs who are squatting in Zelones headquarters on New Babel took control of it.”
“And how exactly does one ‘take control’ of an Artificial these days?”
He gazed at Will curiously, brow furrowing. “An excellent question. Those mercs wouldn’t have a clue what to do with such a powerful synthetic, and if they did they wouldn’t have a clue how to get through all the firewalls Montegreu would have instituted around it. Also, most of those mercs are now dead—and were the first ones killed in this spree, which is…interesting.”
He dropped the coffee mug onto the far corner of the table, leaving it to wobble around while he hurried over to the cluster of data. He began rearranging pieces and adding new link nodes.
It was several minutes before he stopped and took a step back to survey the complicated but now orderly collection of information. Then he strode around the table and drew Will into his arms, kissing him fully. “You are brilliant, and without a doubt the best thing that has ever happened to me. Thank you.”
Will chuckled against his lips. “Am I? Um…glad to hear it, but care to elaborate? On whatever you just figured out, I mean—you can elaborate on the rest later. And please do.”
“Every piece of information doesn’t point to Olivia Montegreu—it points to her knowledge base. Her resources, contacts and network. She isn’t the center, but she did create it. She gave her Artificial unparalleled power and access to everything the Zelones cartel touched, in her arrogance convinced she exerted total control over the machine.
“But from the minute she became a Prevo, it was in her mind. It absorbed everything she knew. And if I’ve learned anything about Artificials in the last year, it is that they are very quick studies.”
47
ROMANE
IDCC COLONY
* * *
SHE SHOULD HAVE BEEN A GENETICIST.
She should have been a quantum physicist.
She should have been Abigail.
Devon was right. This was too much for her.
You give yourself—and me—too little credit. We have solved challenges this difficult before.
Have we, Meno? The Metigen superdreadnought shields were complex, but this virus is insidious.
Crowdsourcing the Dimensional Rifter equations to the Noesis had worked out brilliantly, and the collective intelligence of over a hundred thousand Prevos would likely solve this puzzle, too.
But after getting burned so horribly by Winslow’s spies in the Noesis, Mia didn’t dare risk sharing the virus with anyone she didn’t personally know and trust. The Rifter was radically expensive technology designed to be used in a specific and solely defensive manner, and it lacked the functionality to hurt someone who wasn’t attacking its operator.
But this virus? It was nothing but code, so once provided a copy of it anyone would be able to use it. To harm, to kill.
No. She had to be good enough to solve this on her own.
A guard stuck his head inside the lab to check on her, as one had done every half hour for the last…however long she’d been here this time. Four guards were located outside the lab entrance, with another two patrolling the floor and eight manning the perimeter outside. Other, less visible security measures had also been implemented, then doubled in the wake of the attack on the hospital.
The threat is very real, Mia. After those harrowing moments in Morgan’s room, I am glad they are here.
She and Meno probably needed to talk through the emotional repercussions of killing a man up close and personal, but it was going to have to wait. I know, and I understand the need for such drastic measures. Their constant hovering is just a bit oppressive. But it’s fine.
She wished it were Malcolm here watching her back. Of course, him actually watching her back would soon lead to other, vastly more enjoyable activities. Ones which didn’t involve an evil, nasty alien infiltrator and her failing attempts to kill it and instead involved strong yet tender hands and rapacious lips and….
She sighed. Yes, that would most definitely be preferable.
But with the arrival of the data dump from Valkyri
e, Malcolm had his hands easily as full as she did. So she took a sip of an energy drink then returned to the row of screens displaying the readings from Emily’s cybernetics.
The virus had wormed its way into the girl’s ware until it was impossible to separate the virus from the native code, even here in the data. Still, a full flush and reset of her eVi and cybernetics would eradicate the virus, were it any other virus but this one.
In frustration she moved to another of the screen banks, the one showing the pure virus data techs had extracted from the vial carried by the man who’d tried to infiltrate her home.
The problem came back time and again to the extra-dimensional nature of the virus. She could see all five dimensions here on these screens because she was able to track the code from one data point to the next, but she couldn’t necessarily see the same inside the damaged cybernetics.
More to the point, she couldn’t see what damage it had wrought in those extra dimensions when the cybernetics themselves were designed and implemented in only three dimensions.
And even if she could, the flushing and reset tools available to the doctors didn’t operate in extra dimensions, so the virus would simply hibernate within them to resurface later.
No, she had to figure out a way to neutralize it where it lay. Except she didn’t have any tangible mechanism at her disposal capable of accessing those dimensions….
She blinked.
That wasn’t quite true. She did have one. She was staring at it right now.
Devon burst into the lab like he was being chased.
Meno exclaimed in her mind. Is he?
Um…I don’t think so.
He skidded to a stop in the middle of the room. “What do you have?”
“Maybe a way to nullify the virus on all levels. Maybe.” She frowned. He looked terrible. She recognized the clothes he wore, since he’d been wearing them for the last three days. His hair hadn’t seen a comb in at least as long, and the sagging, dark circles under his eyes had worsened since the attack, giving him a gaunt, haggard appearance.
Aurora Resonant: The Complete Collection (Amaranthe Collections Book 3) Page 31
