Aurora Rising: The Complete Collection (70 page)

“We’ll be at the Exia Spaceport, Bay D-24. You’re the best.”

“I really am. I’ll get to meet him now, won’t I?”

“Yes….”

69

ROMANE

I
NDEPENDENT
C
OLONY

M
IA PACED AROUND THE OPEN SPACE
of the gallery office, prepping for the day ahead. Her movements were unhurried; in truth it was more of a stroll than a pace.

She liked to come in early, when the gallery and the neighborhood outside were quiet and peaceful. Here, unhurried by the daily frenzy which inevitably came with the dawn, she could consider what she must do, what she needed to do and what she hoped to do, and plan accordingly. On good days there was plenty of time for the last category. On bad ones, unexpected ones and surprising ones…well, she just rolled with it.

This day included a tour group from a local elementary in the morning, gallery open hours interrupted by a lunch meeting at a business owners’ industry association, and the continuation of Ledesma’s exhibit from mid-afternoon until late in the evening. A busy day to be sure. But she enjoyed the exhibit, so not a bad one.

She was reviewing the discussion topic for the lunch meeting when her eVi flashed a custom alert. She had a number of flagged items for which her eVi maintained a constant passive filter; if one of them showed up in any major news feed, she was notified.

Seven alerts cascaded in before she finished reading the initial one. She sank against her desk with a long sigh. “Oh, Caleb darling, you truly have gotten yourself into a mess this time….”

A hand rose to her chin. Her gaze drifted to the windows on the far wall, where the first rays of light from one of Romane’s two suns began to peek over the horizon. After a moment she pivoted and walked out of the office, pulsing Jonathan as she strode through the empty exhibit room.

Can you cover the tour group for me this morning?

Uh, sure…how much trouble can twenty nine year-olds be?

I’m not going to respond to that question except to say ‘thank you.’

Once the doors to the gallery had closed behind her she sent Caleb a message, presuming he was far too occupied to answer a pulse at the moment.

Caleb,

I’ll have the items you—both of you—will need ready by the time you arrive.

— Mia

She paused briefly on the sidewalk to consider her options, then headed to the parking lot. She’d go home first, to her very private and very secure office. From there she could hack the entry records and create an ID, which were the most important components. Then if there was time, she’d go shopping.

So this would be an unexpected day then.

This time Mia was standing at the airlock when it opened. In noted contrast to their prior arrival, she wore jeans, boots and a red cowled sweater. After all, this was no longer about formality and proper impressions; it was about survival.

She waved them back toward the rental ship and followed them in. “We need to take care of a few things before you return to your ship.”

She dropped a large bag on the table and started handing out gear. “Fashionable—but not too fashionable—hat, sunglasses and jacket for each of you.” Caleb accepted the items with a nod. Alex looked a little perplexed and vaguely suspicious, but after a hesitant pause took the gear.

Next to come out of the bag was several small containers. “Drops to change eye color. They last around two days. Hair dye as well.” She glanced at Alex. “I’d still recommend pulling your hair up, and maybe curl it or something when you go out.”

Alex frowned at her—frowned more, anyway. “Are you certain? I thought it would be better to wear it down and obscure my face.”

Mia regarded her curiously, then shifted her attention to Caleb. He was leaning against the wall in an attempt at appearing relaxed. It was a good attempt; she wasn’t fooled. “She honestly has no idea, does she?”

A corner of his mouth tweaked up as his head shook. “No, she doesn’t.” His focus drew over to Alex and…
oh god, he really is in love with her
.

“Um, hello? Standing right here?”

She gave a dry laugh. “Alex, how you’ve never realized this in your however-many years of existence is beyond me, but you are a rather uncommon-looking woman—especially with that hair of yours. Not in a bad way, mind you. But your image is being spammed across the galaxy right now, and people are most definitely going to remember it. So try to keep that in mind when you show your face in public, okay?”

She didn’t give Alex a chance to respond. “Now I took the liberty of setting up a comprehensive false identity for you. Load it into your cybernetics and it will pass a mid-level scan, change your fingerprints, the whole works. The name’s Zoe Galanis. I hope it works for you. Caleb, you have many of those. Pick one.”

“Already done. Riley Knight, mechanical engineer for Atmospheric Solutions.”

Alex studied the details on the ID. “How did you manage to get your hands on this so quickly?”

Mia shrugged. “I set it up myself.”

Alex’s eyes shot over to her. It was possible this time they showed a glint of appreciation. “Impressive.”

“Well I did pick up a few useful skills during my indentured servitude. The serial number and registration for the
Siyane
were doctored when you arrived, and as soon as the news broke I back-masked the corridor records. You’ll want to load the doctored information into the ship before departing.”

She checked the bag to confirm it was now empty, then turned to them, a sigh on her lips. “Listen guys, even given all this, you should try to lie low. Your faces are everywhere, and with the war heating up the Romane government is having kittens trying to make sure it doesn’t piss either side off. Independent or not, they will extradite you in a heartbeat if you’re caught.”

Alex nodded distractedly while she continued to study the ID. Caleb smiled. “You’re a lifesaver, Mia. We owe you.”

Were you able to take care of the other matter?

Your girlfriend has some ridiculously tight security on her ship—but yes, it’s done. Secondary encryption key is Д085401Н129914С.

Makes sense…an anagram of the dates of her father’s birth and death with his initials.

Yeah, Meno said the same thing.

Meno?

My Artificial.

Mia….

Don’t lecture me.

Fine, I trust you’re being careful. Listen, thank you. I mean it. And know—it’s only in case I need it to save us both.

You never have to explain yourself to me, Caleb. Are you okay?

No. I’m pissed.

Then they had better watch out.

She shook her head. “No, I still owe you—but I think I might see ‘even’ on the horizon.”

He chuckled…and she suddenly realized how tired he looked. “Fair enough. We’ll be here for another day, day and a half. We need to make a couple of upgrades and stock up on supplies.”

Mia’s eyes narrowed. “Stock up for…what, exactly?”

70

EARTH

W
ASHINGTON,
E
ARTH
A
LLIANCE
H
EADQUARTERS

M
ARCUS REVIEWED COLONY REPORTS
while the workers moved his furniture into the new office. He wore a perfect mask of grave concern as befitted the situation, but beneath it he was feeling quite pleased.

The Foreign Minister merited both a larger, better-appointed office and a suite filled by aides to go with it. The view was different; instead of the gardens, his office now looked out on the Potomac. It painted a congenial scene, but he didn’t intend on getting attached to it.

Barrera had come to him the night before the Assembly ‘no confidence’ vote to bring him up to speed on developments and to provisionally offer him the post of Foreign Minister.

Barrera had emphasized the severity and gravity of the circumstances and reiterated what everyone in settled space already knew: the post was, for all intents and purposes, the most powerful one outside of the Prime Ministership itself. He had expressed confidence Marcus was up to the task of serving as the Alliance’s ambassador to the galaxy.

He had reminded Marcus that while in cases of removal of a Prime Minister by the Assembly
for
cause
, the position passed to the Speaker, this was not the case in the event of a Prime Minister’s death or unforeseen inability to perform his duties. In those instances the administration otherwise continued unchanged, and the line of succession passed through the Foreign Minister’s office before any others.

He had asked if Marcus was willing to bear such a solemn responsibility.

Marcus had carefully and thoughtfully considered the question, then answered in the affirmative.

Barrera actually believed it was all his idea.

Marcus switched from the colony reports to personnel matters and walked over to one of the windows to give the movers more room. Most of the existing bureaucracy would remain, since it consisted of career civil servants capable enough at their jobs and generally not beholden to any party or faction.

Nevertheless, there were a number of appointments for him to make—an opportunity to put sympathetic and loyal personnel in place. Then there were additional postings which he did not bear responsibility for filling, but with respect to which his opinion had been requested.

He scanned the list…and a smile grew on his lips as for a second he forgot the need to publicly maintain a troubled demeanor.

See, Marcus? If you are patient, solutions to difficulties will often present themselves—almost as if the winds of fate act on your behalf.

It seemed a vacancy had opened at the position of EASC Chairman, on account of General Alamatto’s tragic death in the bombing. It was the Prime Minister’s appointment to make, but his recommendation—along with the Defense Minister’s, for the pittance it was worth—carried significant weight.

He may not be able to eliminate Miriam Solovy right away, but perhaps he could render her irrelevant until the scandal of her daughter’s involvement in the bombing ultimately forced her to resign. And the best part was, he didn’t have to do anything more than submit a name. He was certain the man he named would take care of the rest on his own initiative.

He pulled the draft report containing his recommendations back up and added an entry to the bottom of the list.

Earth Alliance Strategic Command Chairman: Southwestern Regional Commander General Liam O’Connell

When the movers had at last departed, he sank into the plush, natural leather chair. Behind the privacy of a closed door his lips rose in a smile which reached his eyes in a bright sparkle and his posture in the rise of both shoulders.

As with all plans, not everything had proceeded as envisioned. Solovy’s daughter and the Senecan spy remained on the loose for the moment. Though as fugitives they were actually easier to incriminate for the bombing than his initial plan, due to Olivia’s failure to deliver the final element of an airtight frame there existed a miniscule but nonzero chance the two might eventually be exonerated. Not that he expected either of them to live long enough for it to matter. Miriam Solovy lived and Alamatto did not. A high-ranking Senecan Intelligence official had been killed—necessarily so, but when it occurred on the same night a string of bodies littered downtown Cavare it risked attracting unwanted attention.