Origins (34 page)

I knew, then, that Elena was right. Whether it was the Asiatic Directorate itself, or some rogue element like Admiral Kyung, didn't much matter: this was a trove of working Shard technology, a weapon of such power that surely they would risk everything to acquire it. Once it was acquired, how could they ever resist activating it?

“Does your ship have nuclear or plasma warheads?” Elena asked. “Something big enough to kill not just the planet, but the Artefact?”

None of the Legion answered. This was my call.

“She does,” I said. “We have nuclear warheads. Enough to level Devonia.”

Loeb had told me about the
Colossus
's nuclear payload when we'd fled Calico, and I'd checked on the specs myself: been able to confirm that we carried several high-yield nuclear weapons. Devonia was a surprisingly small planet, and if Elena was right about the world's purpose then there were must've been power generators somewhere beneath the surface. Breached, they would add to the planet's funeral pyre. I found myself looking at the stalled graphics on the wall; at the
Revenant
and what it represented. We were all killers of planets, in our own way.

Elena's face illuminated. “Then that is what we must do. We must blast this place from existence, and stop the Machine from coming through.”

She believed in this mission – whatever it was – and the glimmer in her eyes spoke of her certainty that this was the right thing to do. Her beauty hadn't been diminished by this place, and the fire in her eyes only amplified it.

The practicalities of killing a world would have to come later.

The Legion and the remainder of the
Endeavour
's crew set about preparations to leave. We'd discussed using the orbital flares from the Ares battle-suits, or one of the Legion making extraction, to communicate with the
Colossus
. James could send down the second Dragonfly, and the survivors would evacuate. It wasn't a plan without risk but it was a plan at least. Former Navy officers and security staff, armed with more bizarre prism-guns and plasma carbines, dressed in ill-maintained uniforms, patrolled the interior and exterior of the
Ark Angel
. I noticed, with some pride, that Elena had become the unratified leader of the survivor group. Even the Naval officers deferred to her: sometimes in preference to Commander Cook. He showed no concern at that, rather a quiet acceptance. It was as though Elena's determination to survive had driven the rest of the crew.

Elena and I walked together through the Shard ruins, through the filtered sunset. Devonia Star's light was guttering now and only occasionally breaking the jungle canopy.

“Is this really almost over?” she asked.

I thought on that for a moment. There was a hard answer – the answer that the voice in my head teased me with: that this would never be over, not after what the Lazarus Legion had seen, what we'd done. Then there was an easy answer, and the lie came to me.

“Soon,” I said. “This will be finished. I'm no stranger to destroying Artefacts. I can explain to Command.”

I suspected that there wouldn't be much to go back to. There would be nothing to stop the Krell's incursion into Alliance space, but I was satisfied that was the lesser risk. Better to fight the enemy we knew, than that we did not.

“If I close my eyes,” I said, “I can imagine that we are back on Azure. This is exactly how things were, years ago. We could pretend that the last ten years haven't happened.”

“Is that what you'd like?”

“Wouldn't you?”

She stirred, drew her long dark hair back from her face. “A lot has changed since then.”

Although her body was small next to mine, this Elena wasn't fragile. Her frame had grown sinewy, muscular: forged by a decade of hardship. Her arms were stitched with old white scars. So very different from the woman I had once known. She had come out here as a shipboard psychologist, but become so much more.

“Are you angry with me?” she asked, quietly.

“No. Of course not.”

“I did this for you,” she said. “That was why I joined the mission, because I wanted to end the war with the Krell. It was destroying you, and I thought that I could save you by finishing things. If we had a Treaty, the war would be over, and I would have you back.”

“You could've talked to me…”

Elena shook her head. “Not then. Not as you were on Azure.”

“I'm sorry,” I said. Just saying those simple words: they lifted a weight from my heart. “I've wanted to say that for so long.”

“Things were not as they should have been, but it wasn't just you. I inducted you into Simulant Operations—”

“But I let it consume me,” I said. “I let that happen; not you.”

“The technology is addictive,” Elena said. “It should never have been used as frequently as it was.” She sighed. “I have tasted it too, now.”

“Why didn't you tell me,” I said, “that Command had made you operational?”

Elena's lips tightened. “I knew that you would find that the hardest thing to understand. Being operational, using a simulant: these are your things, not mine. I felt like this was the greatest betrayal. I ask you again: are you angry with me?”

“I'm happy,” I answered, “to have found you.”

Elena's expression softened, became good-humoured. “You're such a bad liar, Conrad.”

“It's…” I said, fighting to marshal my thoughts; to present them coherently. “It's just a lot to take in, is all.”

“Becoming operational was part of the mission plan,” Elena said. She traced the data-ports in her forearms. They looked sadistic, cast against her slender arms. “I was activated two weeks before I left, and I hid the data-ports from you. At that time, the mission details were still classified. I wanted to tell you, but I knew that you would try to stop me. You were so obsessed with Simulant Operations, only ever interested in the next transition…”

“Not anymore,” I said. “I've changed too. I'll give all of this up.”

Elena sighed. “Could you really do that?”

“So long as I have you, I would.”

“You had me before,” Elena said. “And that didn't stop you.”

There was a playful tone in her voice, but a sadness in her eyes. Things
had
changed. Not just in a galaxy plunged back into war, but between us. Though it had probably been a very simplistic view, I'd always imagined that when I found Elena she would immediately forgive me for letting her go, and that all of my past transgressions would be forgotten. The reality was somewhat more complex.

I nodded. “I'd leave the Army tomorrow. We can leave all of this behind, live somewhere safe. I always promised you a farm.”

“I remember,” Elena said. Her eyes clouded, as if she was recalling a pleasant memory. “You always said that it would be a house in Normandy. I wonder if they still have farms there.”

“France hasn't been hit, so far as I know.”

“This is your promise then,
mon chéri
, that you will give me my farm in old France when we get home?”

Elena smiled; an ironic, equivocal expression. I'd never known someone whose simple expressions could mean so much, whose face could convey such emotion. This smile relayed many things. Happiness, yes, but also sadness and regret, perhaps even resignation.

I nodded. “That is my promise. We'll have a farm, and get a proper child licence. You'll have everything that I promised you.”

We stood there, silently, for a long while. Not quite at ease, but contented nonetheless. That was a strange reaction, given that we were aboard an alien Artefact and surrounded by Krell, but I felt more contented than I had for a very long time.

“And now the slate is clean,” Elena said.

“So what's this, then? A new start?”

“It can be, if you want it to be.”

“I'd like that.”

“We can change things,” she whispered to me. “We can change it all. Once this place is destroyed, things will be different. We can make sure that they – the Shard – can never come through.” Elena nuzzled into my neck, coiled around me. “We can have that future together, Conrad. I let you go once, and I'll never let you go again.”

I held her, and we kissed. She tasted salty and earthy in my mouth, the warmth of her body invigorating me.

I never wanted to break this moment—

The neural-link was severed between me and my simulant, and I was back in my tank.

What the fuck is happening?

I jerked awake; reached to tear the respirator mask from my face, simultaneously blinking fluid from my eyes. There was a slight, disorienting fluctuation in gravity – between the surface of Devonia, and the artificial generator of the starship – but it wasn't this slowing me down. I was hampered by the shakes – convulsions that gripped my body.

“
This is an emergency…
” the AI warbled, its voice piped into my ear-bead.

Then Mason and Martinez were shouting at the same time, Martinez speaking Spanish so fast that I couldn't follow him. Younger, faster, stronger, both were probably recovering from the extraction more quickly than me. They weren't happy with whatever it was they had discovered. Bodies hurried past my tank – blue blurs through the amniotic – and an emergency bulb flashed from the ceiling of the SOC, throwing the room into amber light. I reached for the emergency evacuation button. Finally, my right hand decided to obey my command. The tank began to purge and the door control activated—

“
This is an emergency…
”

The deck rocked beneath me, violently and perilously, and the fluid in the tank shook, data-cables whipping against the canopy. Admiral Loeb stood at the door.

“Out!” he yelled, voice cutting through the other noise. “Everyone out of the damned tanks!”

I slowly complied, taking in what other details I could.
Why is Loeb carrying a service pistol?
Dr Serova was at my shoulder, her face contorted in distress. She shoved a fresh pair of fatigues in my direction.

“Get dressed and get smart!” Loeb shouted, like a drill instructor straight out of Army Basic. To one of the medtechs: “Break open the armoury and get them armed –
now
!”

The Legion had dismounted their tanks as well. Loeb stomped the SOC, waving his pistol in the air.

“
This is an emergency…
”

“What's going on?” I slurred. “You had no right to break the connection. Elena is down there – we've found them!”

“
I
didn't break it!” Loeb countered. “
They
are here!”

“Who's here? I ordered you not to extract us!”

Loeb unceremoniously grabbed the collar of my fatigue. His eyes were wild with anger and panic. “The Directorate are here, Harris. The
Shanghai
is in orbit around Devonia.”

I struggled after Loeb and a cadre of his officers, all carrying peashooters, as we made haste to the CIC.

“She hit us on the way in,” Loeb said, his face red with anger. “Two plasma missiles.”

One of the officers gave a vociferous nod. “The first missile was caught by our null-shield, but the second was a direct hit on the power module.”

“And no one saw her coming?” I asked, incredulously.

“She's a damned assassin, just like that bitch of an admiral!” Loeb said, waving his hands around, almost ignorant of the fact that he was still carrying the M4. “Whatever stealth systems she's got, they're far more advanced than the dumbshit Proximan scanner-tech we're packing.” Loeb shook his head. “I told them that this was a bad idea!”

“Damage control is online,” the same officer said, “and that caused a power shortage to the simulator bay.”

“Permanent?” I said.

Loeb produced a growl from the back of his throat. “Your damned simulators will still work, if that's what you want to know.”

“Let me guess what we've lost…” I said.

“The missile launch bay is gone,” Loeb said. “We've lost the nukes. No space-to-ground offensive capability at all.”

The CIC was filled with officers: faces cast blue by the increasingly bright glow of the Arkonus Abyss.

Loeb, Saul and the Legion circled the tactical display. In tri-D, the tac presented an analysis of our dire situation. The Krell presence in orbit had mobilised, bio-ships darting across space at frightening speed. Their orbital stations were becoming agitated insect nests.

“Shit…” Martinez said. “What's happening out there?”

“They're responding to
that
,” Loeb said, emphasising the last word with a stab of his finger towards the display.

The
Shanghai Remembered
hovered in near-space. Her terrible black outline was immediately recognisable, null-shield lighting as she took fire from Krell ships.

“It looks like we hurt her at Calico,” Loeb said, his voice quivering with rage, “but it wasn't enough to put her down.”

The
Shanghai
had seen obvious damage. One armoured flank was crumpled and pocked, a wound piercing her hide so deep that even at range I could see several decks had been vented. But she was far from out of the fight. Her railguns spat projectiles into space, while banks of point-defence lasers lanced any enemy who dared come too close. Meanwhile Interceptors and Wraiths circled her in delicate patterns, giving chase to smaller prey.

Martinez slammed a fist into the display; made the tri-D flicker. “Damn it! That was a good shot.”

“I knew that we couldn't get that lucky,” Jenkins muttered.

“Better luck next life, eh?” Kaminski said, without a hint of humour.

That Kyung had gone into Q-space with such a badly damaged ship spoke of her desperation.
Rogue.
That had been the word used by Command to describe her actions:
gone rogue
. Perhaps even worse than that…

“Why haven't you shot her?” Martinez said.

Loeb's brow remained creased, his anger star-bright. “She's faster than us,” he said, “and we weren't expecting her. As well as the damage to the weapons launching array, she managed to fry our counter-measures package. We start a shooting match out here, now, and we're
both
dead.”

“That isn't going to happen,” I said. “Elena is down there, and now we know what the
Revenant
really is. The
Endeavour
expedition was sent here to harness the power of a weapon; a machine capable of destroying whole worlds. Ten years ago, this was Command's plan – to use the
Revenant
to destroy the Krell. If Kyung has control of that technology…”

Loeb paused. Glared at me through the thatch of his eyebrows. He looked very much like a predatory bird. “Christo…”

“Devonia is an Artefact,” I explained. “The entire planet is one Master Artefact. If it's activated, it will open the entire Shard Network.”

Professor Saul stirred. “Is that so?”

Kaminski nodded. “You'd love it, Prof. Except that, if Dr Marceau is right, it's the key to ending all life in the galaxy.”

“I think it's a bit more complicated than that, 'Ski,” Jenkins said. “But you get the idea, Professor.”

“All organic life, at least,” Mason added.

“Splitting hairs there, New Girl,” said Kaminski. “Either way, if the Directorate has the Key, they can call the
Revenant
here.”

“
Gracia de Dios
…” Martinez said, crossing himself. “We can't let that happen.”

“They can activate the Artefact,” Saul said. “This is what the Directorate have always wanted. The presence of the Key probably explains the Abyss' increased energy output.”

The Arkonus Abyss seemed to have drawn closer to Devonia, and was surely responding to something. Blue light streamed from its core, polluting the dark of space: tendrils reaching for Devonia. Deep inside the rent in time-space, something dark hungered for release. I could feel data shedding from inside that space within a space, feel the cold press of the Shard Machine calling to Devonia…

“What exactly is happening down there?” Mason said, swallowing as she spoke. “Why is Devonia…
changing
?”

The clouds flashed with electrical activity, lightning playing across the globe. Even at this distance, the seas looked storm-lashed. The planet was
angry
.

Professor Saul readjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, still crooked from his time on Capa. “If this world really is an enormous Artefact, then perhaps Devonia is reacting to the presence of the Shard Key as well.” He pointed out aspects of the planet on the display. “Already, there have been broad tectonic shifts in the northern continent. Those will lead to tidal surges planet-wide, and the bio-sphere will be significantly disturbed.”

“Destroyed, more like it,” Loeb said.

“But how is this happening so fast?” Martinez said. “Terraforming takes decades…”

“
Our
terraforming takes decades,” Kaminski said. “Aren't you always saying that God made Earth in seven days? Well, it looks like the Shard can unmake a world in one.”

“There's no point standing around here talking,” Jenkins said. “We have to stop the Directorate from getting down there.”

Loeb shook his head sharply. “It's too late for that. Almost as soon as she arrived, the
Shanghai
started deploying ships to the surface.”

The sobering implications of that intel hit me immediately.

“Elena is down there!” I said. “We need to—”

But before we could plan our response any further, the communicator chimed.

“We're being hailed,” an officer declared.

“Let me guess,” Kaminski said: “the
Shanghai
?”

The officer nodded.

Kyung the Assassin materialised on the communications console, in jittering tri-D.

Even over the remote connection, her threat radius was palpable. Unlike before, I could not identify the location of her broadcast; whether she had accompanied the away party down to Devonia, or had remained aboard the
Shanghai
. Neither was exactly palatable – the fact that the Assassin was in the same galaxy as me was bad enough. Such recollection as I had of my mother caressed something deep in my psyche. Fond, warm memories… The face glaring back at me from the holo was anything but.

“This,” she said, speaking slowly and precisely, “is your first and final warning. Alliance starship
Colossus
: leave this area immediately, and desist your illegal war-efforts against the Asiatic Directorate.”

The Legion bristled around me, their collective anger directed towards the creature on the tri-D.

“We aren't going anywhere, Assassin,” I said, through clenched teeth. “I'm done running. You came for me, and here I am.”

“You are currently irrelevant,” Kyung said, evaluating me with her dead gaze. “But if you remain here, you should be prepared for the consequences. Accept this broadcast as a formal declaration of intent.”

“What have you got, Kyung? Your ship is in ruins. We got you at Calico.”

“Calico was nothing,” she said. “But what happened in Damascus: that is unforgivable.”

The various scars on Kyung's high cheekbones were thrown into relief, like valleys and craters on a lunar landscape. Little lights flashed beneath her skin, in precise etched lines, describing patterns like subcutaneous circuitry. She was in direct communication with her ship.

“On that, we can agree,” I said.

“We arrive at the same conclusion via very different routes. You left me and my ships in the Maelstrom for dead.”

“You attacked our fleet,” I said. “You killed thousands of Alliance personnel, and caused the destruction of sixteen warships.”

And that, of course, was just the start. If Command and Loeb were right, this woman had condemned millions to death aboard the
Liberty Point
…

“My battlegroup had a mission,” Kyung said. Her features twitched again. “I am biometrically linked to my ship. I am this ship. To feel her pain: it was devastating… The Krell boarded her, in number. We were…” She struggled to find the right word, then said, “
violated
.”

The plasma burns on her face suddenly made sense. She had fought off the Krell, had been there when they were on the ship. A squirt of triumph ran through me: an abhorrent pleasure that I didn't even try to repress. The lights at her end of the connection dipped and winked, casting her image in half-darkness. Was that psychosomatic feedback, caused by Kyung's emotional reaction to the memory – bleeding over into the
Shanghai
? A little detail that I filed away.

“You shamed me,” Kyung said. “You are directly responsible for the failure of my mission. I limped back to the Rim, with only a fraction of my former strength. Today, I am correcting that failure; no matter what the cost.”

“I won't stand by and let you do this!” I shouted. “If you know so much about the Shard, about the Artefacts, then you will know what they mean to the Krell and us!”

“No one comes back from this,” Kyung said, her face split in a smile. It was a blistering expression. “Not even you. There will be no further warning. We will not meet again, Lazarus.”

The communication-link severed, and Admiral Kyung's image vanished. We all stood around the console, silent. It was all I could do to keep myself standing: to conceal the depth of my reaction.

They have the Key, and they can activate the Artefact.

“She's insane…” Loeb said, slowly, quietly. There was no talk of retreat now, no suggestion that we could do anything but make a last stand against the Directorate. “Whatever happened to her ship, it's driven her to the edge.”

“And over,” Kaminski added.

“She'll do it,” Martinez said, turning away from the communicator with his hands to his head. “
Madre de Dios
. She will do this.”

“Not while I'm still standing,” I said, definitively. “Can we make transition back into the simulants on Devonia?”

I thought of Elena and the survivors. When we extracted, my sim would've collapsed without explanation. There was small consolation in the fact that at least Elena knew sims and how they operated.