Live Echoes Read online

  “We did,” Jander responded. “Ma’am.”

  “Then you said that a mercenary force kidnapped the shapeshifter, and you recovered her alive when the Ajax captured the mercenaries’ ship.”

  “It, ma’am,” Erica answered. “The shapeshifter only took the form of a human female. It remained an it.”

  “You think that’s important?” Reena let the words hang in the air. “You recovered it alive, helpless inside a Transit Tube, and then you jettisoned that tube to burn up in Roanum’s atmosphere.”

  “The report also mentions that the shapeshifter tried to kill me when the mercenaries showed up.” Jander spoke without looking at Reena. “It confessed that its true purpose in contacting us wasn’t to arrange a cease-fire, but to gain information about the Step.”

  “I see. And you didn’t think we could have kept that information from it, forewarned by you, if you’d passed the shapeshifter up your chain of command?”

  “May I speak freely, ma’am?”

  “I thought you were. Go ahead, Jander.”

  “I’m certain it would have gotten what it was after—even if we’d warned you. The alien had a firm grasp of human nature, and told me it was going to manipulate our top leadership to learn how the Step works. It was playing us the whole way, and it only revealed its true mission because it thought it was about to kill me.”

  Reena rolled her chair back, and stood. “I believe it referred to the top leadership as the ‘half-bright egomaniacs you let run your lives’—am I remembering that correctly?”

  “Yes, ma’am. It understood us quite well.”

  “Do you agree with that, Captain? That it was going to fool us? Fool me?”

  “I couldn’t take that chance, ma’am. The thing said a Sim armada would descend on the settled planets to wipe out humanity as soon as they gained an understanding of the Step. And that there was no way to stop them.”

  “It communicated that last sentiment telepathically, from inside the tube?” Both officers nodded. “So tell me this. In that final communication, did that thing sound like an ally of the Sims—or one of their creators?”

  “One of their creators.” Varick and Mortas answered in unison.

  “According to your report, it never said that explicitly.”

  “It wouldn’t do that. It wouldn’t solve the biggest puzzle of the entire war.” Varick spoke in earnest. “Jan’s right. That thing was toying with us from the start. And it was laughing when we flushed it.”

  Reena walked around the desk and stood in front of them. “You do understand that there was no way we could share the truth about your mission with the rest of the alliance, in its current state of flux? Your actions forced us to spread the story that this was all a hoax.”

  Jander frowned. “But the word was already out, that another shapeshifter had appeared and that we were communicating with it. That’s why the mercs tried to kidnap it. And even though they’re all locked up, the Holy Whisper colonists on Roanum know about the meeting with the Sims. Their leader, Elder Paul, was with us.”

  “As a group, the Whisper is commendably tight-lipped. That comes from having their beliefs ridiculed at every turn.” Reena shook her head. “You had no clearance to bring their Elder to that negotiation. What were you thinking?”

  “As pacifists, they were overjoyed about the possibility of a cease-fire. They were the first ones the shapeshifter contacted, and we didn’t feel it was right to exclude them.” Varick’s voice softened. “Given what happened later, perhaps we should have.”

  “They don’t blame us for the mercenary attack on the colony. I was personally contacted by the Whisper leadership, thanking the Ajax for its intervention. And since this Elder Paul died in the assault, any stories the colonists tell about the meeting with the Sims can be dismissed as rumor.”

  “It’s wrong to be covering this up, ma’am,” Jander whispered. “The alien said there were thousands more just like it, and that we couldn’t possibly keep them from getting another impostor through and learning about the Step. We need a plan to stop that, and instead we’re denying this ever happened.”

  Reena’s eyes flashed. “Just a moment. Through most of that report you insisted that the shapeshifter was lying to us. So what are you telling me? That it started telling the truth right at the end, when it knew it was doomed?”

  “It doesn’t respect us at all. It wanted us to know we’re the ones who are doomed.”

  “I’m going to have to take your word for that.” His stepmother walked around the desk and sat back down. “Because that’s all I have. I’m left with only your notion of what that being was really trying to do. When I actually might have gotten to the truth if you’d let it live. And maybe even could have used it to arrange a cease-fire with the Sims.

  “But I’m one of those half-bright egomaniacs, aren’t I? Too stupid to be allowed to even speak with that thing.”

  Standing like statues, neither officer responded.

  “Nathaniel is going to debrief you now. We need to analyze everything that happened on Roanum, this time without your high-blown judgments. I don’t care how long it takes. After that, you’re both going back to your units—where, if you’ve got any sense at all, you won’t breathe a word of this.”

  “Because someone might punish us?” Jander couldn’t stop himself. “Ma’am?”

  “No, Lieutenant. Because no one will believe you. I’m making sure of that.”

  Ulbridge sealed the hatch behind the two officers, and walked over to Reena’s desk. The Chairwoman had sagged into her chair, as if exhausted.

  “How did I do, Nathaniel? Did I give away the secret?”

  “Asking if the alien acted like it was one of the Sims’ creators was a bit too close for comfort, but I think they missed it. I’ll confirm that during the debriefing.”

  “Thank you. Dig deep with the questions, but don’t let them figure out what we’re really after.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll report back as soon as we’re done.”

  Reena didn’t notice when he left. Her mind had already called up an image, impossibly far from that spot, in a desolate region of space. A gray planet, one of several in a star system that she’d learned about through someone else’s dreams. Camouflaged probe spacecraft had come close enough to surveil the unremarkable orb, but so far had detected no activity at all.

  She’d code-named the planet herself, believing her missing husband had shown it to the dreamer as the possible source of the Sim enemy. Reena breathed out the word with her eyes shut.

  “Omega.”

  “Your stepmother is up to something.” Erica whispered the words many hours later in her cabin, intertwined with Jander.

  “She sits at the top of the biggest bunch of backstabbers in human history. I’d be surprised if she wasn’t.”

  “No, it’s more than that. Did you notice she didn’t mention your father even once? I don’t care how mad she is at us; you’re his son, and this is the first time she’s seen you since he went missing. And yet she didn’t bring it up. She was concentrating on playing a role.”

  “That’s my family. They’ve always got some game going on.”

  “Not your sister. From what I’m hearing through the Banshee grapevine, she’s doing her damnedest to be a good troop.”

  “She sure took the long way to get there. Last time I saw Ayliss, she was scheming against my father. Apparently they patched things up before he disappeared.”

  “Why does the Chairwoman believe he’s still alive?”

  “Nathaniel explained that to me, after the debriefing ended. One of the Step Worshipers—their leader, I guess—had a series of dreams where she thought my father was communicating with her. Just crazy talk. His capsule’s been missing for months.”

  “The Chairwoman’s under a lot of strain. She’s hiding that, too.”

  “Be careful drawing conclusions with this crowd. They wear a lot of masks. Sometimes for years.”

  “I think she
doesn’t want you to go to Celestia.”

  “That’s where the brigade is. And since you’re hell-bent on getting back to the Banshees, what else would I do?”

  “You should stay here. At least until your leg’s healed.”

  “I belong with the Orphans. Colonel Watt will put me to work somewhere.” Their looming separation took a step closer, and he kissed her hard, as if to ward it off.

  “Colonel Watt.” She laughed. “You believe he actually threatened me over your safety? When you see him, tell your colonel what I did to bring you back. Tell him about the snakes. Then tell him I said he can kiss my ass.”

  “Look who’s getting ornery. You haven’t even shipped out yet.” The silence enfolded them for an instant. “You know, I could ask my—”

  “No. I’m headed back to the war. Been gone way too long. I need this.”

  “I had to try. You know I had to try.”

  “Just one thing. Don’t tell your Colonel Watt to kiss my ass.” Varick’s tone softened. “Tell him I’m not giving you back. You’re just on loan.”

  In her office on the Aurora, Reena Mortas finished reviewing the transcripts of the debriefing Ulbridge had conducted with Jan and Varick.

  “So what do you think?” she asked the security man.

  “We can’t assume that the shapeshifters are the entities creating the Sims, but I think it’s highly likely. Its story about the origins of the Sims has holes just where you’d expect them to be, if it was trying to hide that connection. And the Sim delegates refused to offer their version, despite their obvious affinity for Jan and Captain Varick.”

  “That’s not surprising, now that we know why they’re fighting us. They believe humanity is persecuting them. No matter how friendly the conversation got, they think we’re trying to eradicate them.”

  The decades-long war with the Sims had begun the instant human space explorers had encountered the humanoid race. According to the shapeshifter, the Sims believed they were the mutated descendants of ancient human long-range space missions, unfairly attacked by an enemy they referred to as the “cousins.”

  “I found it interesting, that the alien said it doesn’t believe the Sims’ creation story.”

  “How so?”

  “Jan is convinced that the shapeshifters don’t fear us at all. That sense of superiority might have caused the alien to include hints of the real truth in what it told them. Kind of a sick joke.”

  “Are you saying it was giving us clues?”

  “Rejecting the Sims’ story allowed the alien to propose how that tale got into the Sims’ heads in the first place. It said it believed what we’ve always suspected—that the Sims are a designer enemy, meant to oppose our expansion. Its suggestion that the Sims’ creators telepathically implanted that creation story—along with individual Sims’ different skill sets—is just a little too close to what the alien already demonstrated it can do to humans.”

  “Telepathic communication. Jan and Varick heard it laughing when they jettisoned it.”

  “It also spoke to them, briefly, without opening its mouth. On Glory Main, the original alien essentially downloaded data into Jan’s head. Awfully similar to what the shapeshifter said the Sims’ creators do.”

  “Do you think that might also apply to what it said about their numbers? That there are thousands more?”

  “I do. Why would it say thousands? Why not millions, or even billions, if its intent was to convince us that keeping them from learning the secret of the Step is futile?”

  “Another clue?”

  “I believe so. Stating their true numbers, or exaggerating them by only a little, might be just part of the fun.”

  “Or it might just be a fact. They don’t need big numbers, with their abilities. All it’s going to take is for one of them to slip by.”

  “That is true.”

  “So we’ve got to beat them to the punch.” Reena rolled her chair back, and stood. “Is everything proceeding?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Half the convoy will return to Earth, while we go with the other half to the Construction Zone. General Merkit is waiting for us.”

  “My husband put him in charge out there to put a stop to the profiteering. Who would have guessed he’d put the perfect man in the perfect place for us?”

  Chapter 2

  Sealed inside a Banshee fighting suit, Ayliss Mortas was having the time of her life. The feed from dozens of microcameras gave the false impression that her helmet had vanished, and she half-expected the falling snowflakes to land on her face. Coursing down through the pale atmosphere, driven by a wind she could hear but not feel, the ice crystals either slid past at the last second or stopped inches from her eyes before melting against the face shield.

  Her arms and legs moved easily inside the now-familiar armor, but the freedom of actually traveling on a planet’s surface was astounding. All of her previous suit experiences had been aboard ship, in stationary simulators or large compartments, and there had been no room to simply run.

  Now she was doing that, uphill, through an open forest covered in white. The briefing had told her the temperature on this part of Secured Planet 3157 was lethally cold, and her suit’s readouts confirmed that, which made it all the more marvelous. Heat exchangers kept her environment at a constant, comfortable temperature regardless of how much she exerted herself. A foot higher from the ground than normal, encased in an armored body loaded with high technology and powerful weapons, Ayliss thrilled to see the terrain passing by much faster than she could run.

  “Slow down, Mortas!” Cusabrina snarled in her ear.

  Still bouncing forward, Ayliss turned her head to the right. Her helmet was fused to the shoulders of the suit, so a forehead-and-neck assembly rotated with her and changed the camera views. Reaching the limit of her neck’s mobility, Ayliss laughed as the view continued to shift until she was essentially looking backward. Twenty yards behind and twenty yards away, Cusabrina’s suit blended in with the snowy landscape. Bulging mechanical legs spread into an armored torso before sloping up into the bell-shaped helmet. Cusabrina carried her rifle in one swollen glove, reminding Ayliss that the veteran had insisted she leave her own weapon clipped against her back. The weapon was called a Fasces because of its multiple barrels, and could fire everything from large caliber rounds to grenades.

  “How many times do I have to tell you, Corporal? My name’s Rig!” she called brightly, bringing the view back to her front before reluctantly slowing down.

  “And how many times am I going to have to tell you I’m not an NCO?”

  “Sergeant Tin said it would be easier to just call you Corporal. She said you go back and forth, promoted one day and busted the next.”

  “This one’s permanent. Not that I care.” The older woman coursed into her peripheral vision, weaving among the trees. She admired Cusabrina’s ability to move while bent forward, reducing her overall silhouette. Ayliss and the other new Banshees had been assured they would eventually pick it up, but her earlier attempts had always ended with a tumble. “See that boulder to the west? Get down behind it.”

  Ayliss punched her tongue into the suit’s tube control, calling up the basic patrolling menu. The helmet materialized somewhat as the electronic display showed her a compass, her heading, the distance to the next course change, and a small schematic of the rest of the squad. Sliding her tongue, she shifted the schematic over and enlarged it to see where the others were.

  Her Banshee Basic squadmates had been assigned as a group to Sergeant Tin’s squad, and so each of the five newbies had been given a veteran minder. They moved all over the snowy mountain in pairs, sweeping the ground for an enemy that was not expected to be there. More seasoned Banshee squads were slowly converging on the summit of a high mountain to the east, where the suspicious electronic emanations had originated.

  Reaching the snow-covered rock Cusabrina had pointed out, Ayliss dropped to a knee and peered through a scraggly bush. She now looked down the other sid
e of the slope, seeing more untouched whiteness and denuded trees. Cusabrina moved up, coming to a stop just short of the crest twenty yards to her right. They were scouting a broad ridgeline that split from the eastern side of the target mountain, and the squad’s other teams were spread out to the west at half-mile intervals.

  “This is Cusabrina. We’re at Checkpoint Four.” A red circle glowed in the corner of Ayliss’s display for a few seconds, before dropping onto the schematic where they were located. “No sign of Sam. Or anything else.”

  “Hold in place,” Tin responded, paired off with the Banshee that the training cadre had nicknamed Plodder. Biggest of the five newbies and a former military police officer, Plodder’s quick temper called for extra supervision. “Tabor, what’s the holdup?”

  Ayliss studied the schematic, seeing that the team on their extreme left had fallen behind just a bit. Tonguing a map onto the schematic, she studied the incline and decided it wasn’t steep enough to be holding them up. Tabor was an easygoing veteran, and so she’d been paired off with the equally low-key Legacy.

  “Just pickin’ a few flowers.” The drawling voice almost made her laugh. “Something to brighten things up when we go back aboard.”

  Two short beeps sounded inside the helmet, and Ayliss immediately looked over at Cusabrina. She didn’t hear Tin’s answer, because her partner had hit the override.

  “You awake over there, Rig?”

  “Yes, Corporal.”

  “Then why aren’t you seeing this?”

  Embarrassed to have been paying too much attention to the electronic display, she quickly scanned the trees to their front. Heavy with snow, they blocked the view as the ground fell away. Ayliss was about to switch to infrared when a distortion seemed to flash across the snow.

  Zooming in on the undulating blanket of white, she finally saw it. Saw them. Sliding, slithering, pulling themselves along, a pod of pale, tentacled creatures crawled away two hundred yards down. Perfectly camouflaged, they zigzagged along with a fluid grace that was both beautiful and disgusting. Ayliss decided they looked like jellyfish back on Earth, except these ones weren’t anywhere near the sea.