Rubicon: Aurora Resonant Book Two (Aurora Rhapsody 8) Read online

  She might have been wrong.

  He looked a little older than in the fateful scene on the Stalwart. Since this was his own chosen representation of himself, it seemed an acknowledgment if not an admission of the decades that had passed. But the expressiveness of his face, the vivacity in his eyes, the natural movement of his body? It was all a perfect match.

  A thousand memories flashed through her mind in the second it took for his gaze to fall upon her. Then a luminous smile broke across his face, and she nearly lost it.

  “Alex. Bozhe moy, look at you. So grown up—of course you are. I know you are. But to see you….”

  She closed the distance and sank into his embrace. Her breath caught in her throat; she could feel him. Warm skin, muscles creating a gentle grasp, heart beating. It was virtual, but here it was real. Here her father, lost for nearly twenty-five years, was hugging her and whispering in her ear Russian endearments she hadn’t heard since she was a child.

  She drew back, wiping tears off her cheeks with her hand. She wanted to be able to see him.

  “Oh, milaya, no. Don’t be sad.”

  She gave him a shaky smile in return. “It’s not sadness, Dad. It’s joy.”

  “If you’re sure. One can easily be mistaken for the other, especially in circumstances like these.”

  “There have never been circumstances like these.” She glanced around. “But this is brilliantly rendered. Vii did a terrific job.”

  “She did. She took exceptional care of me, while humoring even my most egregious petulances.”

  Alex laughed. Had she forgotten his clever eloquence? “How do you feel?”

  He squeezed her hands tight, then let them drop and motioned her toward the ledge. “How does one begin to answer that question? I feel like myself, or at least how I remember myself feeling. Memory is such a fragile, nebulous thing, yet more than any other aspect, it defines us. We are what we remember.”

  The air was crisp and cold, and she pulled the collar of her fleece up to her chin before joining him to sit and dangle her feet off the ledge. “And what is it you remember?”

  “All the details of my life, I think, which is what makes me feel like myself. Up here.” He tapped a fingertip to his temple. “Do you know what I remember most vividly? I can recall cooking Sunday breakfast for you and your mother as if it were yesterday—because for me it was yesterday. But since yesterday, decades of history have intervened, and all that history is jammed up together in my head. Knowing this avalanche of events occurred but not being there to experience them then cast my own veneer on the memory of them….”

  He shook his head roughly. “But it’s not important. An artifact of my unique situation, nothing else. You want to know if Vii did her job or if you need to box me up again.”

  “No! That’s not what—”

  He touched her arm. “It’s okay, Alex. You did the right thing. Don’t doubt it.” He stared at her for several seconds, and his features took on an almost whimsical flavor. “Forgive me. I look at you, and I see a skinny little girl with messy pigtails and skinned knees, bursting with energy, curiosity and grand dreams—and a smart mouth. Now you’re this remarkable woman.”

  “I still have the smart mouth.”

  “No doubt. But you are everything I imagined you would become and so much more. I believed you would change the galaxy, but you’ve changed the universe. All the universes.”

  She must be blushing; his praise had always made her blush. Still, she rolled her eyes in an attempt to make light of it. “I learned how from you.”

  “Now you’re pandering, dear.”

  She jabbed him playfully on the shoulder. “Take the compliment, Dad.”

  He made this face—half chagrin, half exasperation, half amusement—and it looked exactly how she remembered. No algorithm was capable of recreating such an expression. It came from who he was, animated by the whole of his character.

  In that instant, she was convinced.

  But possibly he wasn’t, for in the brief lull, he seemed to grow troubled. His gaze fell away from her to settle on the vista. “Do you think I’m real? I believe I…exist now, but maybe what exists is just a copy who looks and walks and talks like a dead man.”

  The stark words, stripped of ornamentation and delivered in a bare, matter-of-fact tone, hit her as brutally as a punch to the gut.

  When she didn’t respond, he took her hand once more. “It’s all right. You should be honest. I can weather the blow.”

  She was not the best person to consult on the big metaphysical questions. Certainly she had never thought herself to be. But he was asking her, and her answer mattered.

  She’d encountered such an incredible diversity of life this last year while traveling in the Mosaic and Amaranthe. A lot of the life she’d seen had been manufactured, designed, at times even sculpted to specifications. Did its origins make it any less alive? Were Pinchu and the Khokteh not really alive simply because the Kats had engineered them into existence? Of course not—she’d risked her own life defending their right to exist, and it had been the right choice. Was Akeso not really alive simply because its consciousness took on a form radically different from her own?

  Of course not.

  So she exhaled somberly and tried. “I think…if your soul did persist after you died, if that’s a thing that happens, then it would have chosen to wander among the stars—which is exactly where the first spark of you was reborn. What if your soul found its way to the echo of itself imprinted onto mine and Valkyrie’s minds? What if in doing so it saw an opportunity for another chance at life? I’m willing to take it on…” she blinked “…faith that it did, if you are.”

  He remained silent for a moment, until a smile gradually blossomed. “I like it. It’s poetic and delivers proper dramatic flair. So we’ll go with it.”

  Going with it was the most either of them could do, honestly. Her own mood grew serious now. She was in some respects still responsible for him. But, convinced he was real and whole, she no longer had the right to make the big decisions for him, did she?

  “What do you want to do? I realize it’s an impossible question with limited choices and no ideal answers, but we need to grapple with it anyway, don’t we?”

  “Leave it to the wanderer to assume I can’t just stay here camping in the mountains forever.”

  “You can’t. You’ve come so far, there is no way you’re stopping here.” Her throat worked unevenly. “Do you want me to tell Mom? Using an external interface and a tweaked ware routine for her eVi, she could come here, too.” She reached out and clasped his shoulder with sudden fervor. “Dad, I can touch you. She could come here, and she could do the same.”

  He turned away, but not before she saw the tumult in his suddenly glistening eyes. “You cannot imagine how happy that would make me…and how sad. Once she was here, I don’t know if I would be able to bear having her leave, and she would have to leave. No. I don’t relish asking you to continue keeping this secret from her, but I would be a terrible distraction, and she must focus on her mission. She can’t be constantly running off to keep me company in a virtual simulation when she’s needed out there, leading the fight to save everyone. How can I intrude on such a noble cause?”

  “Dad—”

  “It’s so tempting to be the dashing, glib gentleman I once was and sweep in with aplomb and panache. But the truth is I’d be barging in for my own selfish reasons—especially given I can’t actually barge in anywhere real. My presence here would throw her world into chaos right when she needs to be at her best and most focused. What kind of husband would it make me if I did such a thing?”

  “One she loves.”

  “I didn’t expect you to be a romantic, milaya. Caleb has clearly muddled your senses. It’s been twenty-five years, and I left her without hope for me. I should not exist, now or ever again, and she has surely made peace with that reality.”

  “But you do exist. You said it—I’ve changed whole universes. Who
says I can’t change your future in them, too?”

  His arm wound around her shoulder, and he drew her closer. His expression brightened, she suspected because he willed it so. “That’s my girl. Maybe you can, but first you have to save some universes. You go, get out there and do what you do. Help your mother do what she does, and I’ll be fine here for now. Time passes slowly in this place by default, but I’ll speed it up so I don’t become maudlin. You go now, and I’ll see you again in hardly a minute.”

  She wanted to stay. She wanted to bring Caleb here and watch them share stories by the campfire. She wanted to bring her mother here and alter the trajectory of her life. But her dad was right—she needed to go.

  Because she had an idea.

  17

  ANARCH POST SATUS

  LOCATION UNKNOWN

  * * *

  MIA BEGAN HER STEP ON A COLD, rocky and forbidding planet, continued it through a mysterious, rippling mirror and completed it with her foot landing on the cushioned flooring of a well-appointed room that might be halfway across the galaxy or in another galaxy entirely.

  The experience should have been far more disorienting than it was. But when everything in your life was odd, nothing was.

  An alien stood a few meters into the room. Its gaze was locked on them in a way that implied it had been waiting for them to arrive. Sable fur covered the alien’s skin where fitted clothing did not. It stood upright to nearly her height, but its long, curved spine suggested it didn’t always. Piercing amber irises regarded her keenly while an upper lip curled into what looked like a snarl.

  Mia glanced hurriedly at Caleb, but he motioned to the alien. “Volya, this is Ambassador Mia Requelme. Ambassador, allow me to introduce Volya Gaala-min, the security supervisor here on Post Satus.”

  The species is called Barisan. They’re not as predatory as they appear, but they do tend toward a cunning nature.

  Thank you.

  It was the first true flesh-and-blood alien she had ever met. The ethereal Metigens—Katasketousya—felt more like ghosts or gods than aliens, and the Anadens, of which she’d thus far only seen a dead one, didn’t really count.

  She kept her body language controlled and minimal. “Greetings.”

  “Yes.” The alien’s voice carried a hint of a trill—she dared not characterize it as a purr—beneath the articulated Communis words. “The Sator will be a moment. You will wait.”

  Caleb nodded. “If you don’t mind, we’ll take the opportunity to confer in private.”

  “As it suits you.” The alien pivoted and departed with a loping gait.

  It had been a whirlwind twelve hours since she’d arrived in Amaranthe, punctuated by meetings with Miriam then the larger AEGIS Council separated by different briefings, followed by a short nap then a trip in the Siyane to said forbidding planet and its mirrored teleportation gate. Now she was here, on a different planet, inside a city-starship.

  Okay, perhaps some things were still odd. She needed to focus on the task at hand. “Are all the anarchs so friendly?”

  Alex rolled her eyes and drifted over to the window. She had acted distracted during the trip to the teleportation gate, though she seemed to be making an effort to act engaged now. “Nah. Volya’s a bit of an ass. I haven’t met enough Barisan to decide if it’s the species or her personally. Nisi’s far more welcoming, at least when Caleb’s in the room.”

  “Good. The Sator’s affection for Caleb may be the only thing that makes an agreement happen.”

  Caleb scoffed. “ ‘Affection’ is arguably a strong word.”

  “It’s just us here, so you don’t have to play modest.”

  “I’m not being modest. I keep telling everyone, he doesn’t like me. He likes this.” A flare of crimson burst to life above his outstretched palm then snuffed out as quickly as it had materialized.

  Mia tilted her head in marginal agreement. “I get that. But I’d be willing to bet he does like you, even if neither of you are ready to admit it. Regardless, your presence alone will help, and I need all the help I can get.”

  Caleb’s demeanor projected an air of reassurance doubtless intended for her. “You’ll be grand. But I’ll hang in the back and look supportive while you work your magic. Alex, you understand you’re the closer, not me?”

  “What?”

  “If Mia can’t close the deal, you’re the one who has to deliver the desperation pitch—the ‘everything depends on this’ plea.”

  “I do not plea.”

  He laughed. “Sure you do—but only when it truly matters, and I’ve heard a rumor this actually does.”

  Alex glared at him with exaggerated annoyance. “Okay, fine. It’s criminal that this man holds so much power, by the way, but whatever. Let’s go swindle him.”

  “Alex!”

  She grinned at him then at Mia. “I’m kidding. Sort of. This really is in his best interests, too. He wants to crush the Directorate, but he lacks the resources to do it. We have the resources, by which I mean lots of powerful guns, but we won’t be able to do it without the anarchs’ ponying up some legitimate help.”

  Volya peered into the room. “He is ready for you. Come.”

  “Sator Nisi, I’m Mia Requelme. It is an honor to meet you.” She steepled her hands and bowed shallowly in an imitation of the Anaden formal greeting she’d been taught.

  “Ambassador Requelme, the honor is mine. Please, call me Danilo.”

  Her new title still sounded awkward to her ears, but she accepted it without comment. “If it’s acceptable to you, Sator, I prefer to give your position the respect it deserves.”

  A corner of his lips twitched, but any irritation he might be feeling didn’t reach his eyes, which were a fascinating abyssal raven color, or possibly deep indigo. “As you wish.”

  She’d been briefed on the man—as much as was possible given how little anyone knew about him—and Caleb had provided personal insights. But she had to admit, even expecting it, his reported charisma was genuinely commanding in person.

  She would need to be careful.

  He gestured to his right, toward several aliens gathered in a semi-circle of chairs farther into the spacious room. “This is Xanne ela-Kyvern, our senior operations supervisor, Charito Dierev, our information and intelligence supervisor, and the lurking shadow is Miaon, an adviser.”

  She dipped her chin in turn at them, and Nisi directed her to a comfortable chair at one end of the semi-circle. A full glass of water sat on the small side table next to it, so they’d taken note of human preferences. In the corner of her eye she noted Caleb and Alex move to lean against one of the expansive windows behind the gathered assembly.

  Nisi took the empty chair at the other end of the semi-circle, directly opposite her. His posture appeared relaxed, but it was carefully posed. “Now, let us not waste time pretending this meeting is anything other than what it is. Your people want more from us than we trust to give.”

  “If frankness is to be the order of the day, Sator? My people need more from you than you’ve been willing to give—that is, if you wish for us to accomplish what I’m told is a mutual goal.”

  “You openly admit your disadvantaged bargaining position from the start? Interesting.”

  “What disadvantaged position is that? Do you mean because we need something from you? Sator Nisi, have you fairly considered exactly how much you need from us? You need us to risk our lives—to fight, kill and die, without the benefit of regenesis—in order to win a war for you. You need us to win a war that you have hardly been able to wage properly. A war you are, I suspect, inherently incapable of winning on your own. I mean no disrespect, for few could hope to vanquish such a formidable enemy.

  “Nevertheless, you are asking us to fight, kill and die in a bid to unseat your oppressors and hand you your freedom on a fine silver platter. Whether you trust us or not, I submit that you owe us your assistance.”

  It was a hard hit, but behind the gracious smile and hospitable demeanor was a h
ard man. He pursued a goal, and if it wasn’t toppling the Directorate then they were all doomed.

  The other Anaden, Xanne, looked offended, but Nisi merely studied Mia for a breath before responding. “True enough, Ambassador. You divine much for having so recently arrived. But I have bade my time for many millennia, and I can bide it for longer if I must.

  “We know nothing about Humans beyond what your people and the Katasketousya have told us, and we trust the Katasketousya even less than we trust you. You are a risky bet, and the one thing I cannot do is unnecessarily endanger my organization—my family—on risky bets.”

  “Hmm.” She paused thoughtfully. “You may be able to bide your time, sir, but what of your followers? What of the trillions of ‘citizens’ out there struggling under the yoke of Directorate rule? How many Novoloume, Naraida, Efkam, Barisan and countless others will suffer and die while you wait for the next best offer?”

  The Novoloume present, Charito, shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The reaction did not go unnoticed by Nisi.

  Mia pressed. “Sator Nisi, you are a rebel. Of this I have no doubt. You would give everything of yourself for your cause. But you also know it will take an overwhelming force to unseat the Directorate, and you cannot bring one to bear. We can.

  “Did you know that when we were on the verge of discovering them and their Mosaic, the Katasketousya tried to annihilate us? They sent massive armadas of AI-driven ships to wipe us from existence, or at a minimum to return us to living in the mud.”

  “That cannot be so.”

  The shadow gained greater substance. “She speaks truth.”

  She acknowledged Miaon. “Thank you.”

  Nisi frowned. “Well…clearly they did not succeed. What happened?”

  “We won the war, though at great cost in lives and damage. We outwitted and outmaneuvered their forces until we proved we could and would defeat them—then we let them depart. I mention this for two reasons. First, you need to know that we have been knocked on our proverbial asses before, and it only strengthened our resolve. We have faced an enemy who overwhelmed us with sheer numbers and superior technology before, and we bested them.