Lieutenant Selene Genji has one last chance to save the Earth from destruction in this pulse-pounding science fiction adventure, from the author of the New York Times bestselling Lost Fleet series.
Earth, 2180
Genetically engineered with partly alien DNA, Lieutenant Selene Genji is different from ordinary humans. And they hate her for it. Still, she’s spent her life trying to overcome society’s prejudice by serving in the Unified Fleet while Earth’s international order collapses into war.
Genji is stationed on a ship in orbit when humanity’s factional extremism on the planet reaches a boiling point, and she witnesses the utter annihilation of Earth. When the massive forces unleashed by Earth’s death warp space and time to hurl her forty years into the past, Genji is given a chance to try to change the future and save Earth—starting with the alien first contact only she knows will soon occur.
Earth, 2140
Lieutenant Kayl Owen’s ship is on a routine patrol when a piece of spacecraft wreckage appears out of nowhere. To his shock, there is a survivor on board: Selene Genji. Once her strange heritage is discovered, though, it becomes clear that Genji is a problem Earth Guard command wants to dispose of—quietly. After learning the horrifying truth, Owen helps her escape and joins her mission.
Together, they have a chance to change the fate of an Earth doomed to die in 2180. But altering history could put Genji’s very existence in danger, and Owen wonders if a world without her is one worth saving. . . .
Release date:
May 21, 2024
Publisher:
Ace
Print pages:
400
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As the weapon detonated on the surface of the Earth, a collective, wordless moan of despair sounded from the crew of the Unified Fleet heavy cruiser Pyrenees in orbit near the Moon. Lieutenant Selene Genji stared, unable to accept what she was seeing, as the initial burst of weird, hideous light expanded with horrible speed, growing and racing across the surface of the planet. Oceans instantly evaporated, the surfaces of continents vanishing, billions dying in the blink of an eye as the weapon consumed all of human history and art and hope.
The Spear of Humanity had won. Earth had been "cleansed," destroyed in the name of saving it.
"We're getting odd readings on all of our instruments." The voice of the weapons officer sounded strange, choked by grief.
"Light is being bent," another officer gasped. "Like space-time is being distorted. Energy release is off every scale we've got."
Boring beneath the surface, the destruction reached Earth's core.
What remained of the planet exploded.
In the seconds remaining to her, Genji watched the enormous oncoming shock wave, part of her wondering at how the image warped mysteriously in places. More free quarks than the universe had seen since its birth, invisible to the human eye, and the remnants of the outer atmosphere driven outward by inconceivable energy, the death throes of Earth formed a tsunami of brilliant blue shading into ultraviolet as the explosion expanded at incredible velocity. Earth's dying moment was beautiful in a very strange and extremely frightening way.
She only had time to form two words in her mind before the shock wave hit.
If only . . .
6 February 2140
Ninety-nine watches out of every hundred were boring and monotonous, and often the one hundredth one was as well. Lieutenant Kayl Owen realized that he had managed to snag the watch with something "interesting" happening.
Hazards to navigation were not supposed to pop up out of nowhere. That sort of thing could happen on Earth, but not in space, not where the instruments aboard the Earth Guard ship Vigilant could spot everything within literally millions of kilometers. Something could pop out from behind the Moon or from behind the Earth, but in this orbit the Moon was nearly twenty-five thousand kilometers away, and the Earth almost ten times more distant, so nothing should suddenly appear less than a thousand kilometers from the Vigilant.
But there it suddenly was, stubbornly refusing to abide by common sense and experience, which said it couldn't be.
"Turn off that alarm!" At the best of times, Captain Garos seemed to regard the universe as a perverse thing dedicated to making his life difficult. He always seemed to regard the crew of the Vigilant, and Lieutenant Owen in particular, in the same light. "Why didn't anyone report that object to me before it got within a thousand kilometers of us?"
Everyone else on the bridge either tried to look busy or looked at Lieutenant Kayl Owen, who was the officer of the watch. Knowing the captain's wrath was already focused on him, Owen tried to keep his voice professional, calm, and assured. "Captain, the object did not appear on any of our instruments until now."
Captain Garos's glower grew deeper. "Meaning you didn't notice it until now!"
Sometimes, Owen let the captain's rants slide off him. But in this case, his whole watch team might also catch blame. He had to stand up for them. "Captain, the system backup records will confirm there was no indication of that object being there before the alert sounded."
"Then where did it come from and why didn't our instruments see it?" Garos demanded.
"I don't know, Captain."
"Of course you don't!" Garos switched his attention to Lieutenant Francesca Bond, who had just arrived on the bridge. "What is it? Maybe you can tell me something."
Bond squinted at the readouts. "It's definitely artificial, Captain. Uncontrolled tumbling. Visually, it looks like a wreck."
The executive officer, Commander Ilya Kovitch, had also arrived, and shouldered Lieutenant Bond aside to personally study the images. "A piece of a wreck, you mean. It looks like part of a larger ship."
"Where did it come from? What is it?" Captain Garos shouted.
Everyone looked at Owen again.
"I don't know, Captain," Owen repeated.
"Find out!" Garos pointed a rigid finger at Owen. "Take a boarding party, examine it, and give me a full report! Don't screw up!"
Kovitch gestured to Lieutenant Bond. "Take over the watch."
Owen rapidly filled Bond in on everything she needed to know about the ship's status. Normally, he and Francesca got on without too much friction, but right now she was on edge because of the captain's rant and because she knew he and the executive officer were watching, so she got through the turnover as quickly as possible with no wasted chat.
Before leaving the bridge, Owen called the deck division head. "I need the ship's boat ready to go and a boarding party assembled."
"That's going to take an hour," Ensign Vivaldi complained.
Owen took a quick glance toward the fuming Captain Garos. "The captain wants the boat to go without any delay. Would you like to tell him it'll take an hour?"
"No," Vivaldi said quickly. "Umm . . . we'll get it ready as fast as possible."
The Vigilant was a Defender-class cruiser, and at thirty-one years old was about the average age of Earth Guard ships. Because the Universal Space Treaty hadn’t been challenged for longer than the Vigilant had existed, her main armament of four Penetrator particle beam weapons and two Shrike missile launchers had never been used for any purpose except target practice and the removal of obstacles to safe space navigation. Three hundred meters long, the Vigilant resembled a cylinder with a rounded bow and a big bulge amidships, as if the ship were a snake that had swallowed a massive meal. Most of the Earth Guard personnel aboard Vigilant were younger than their ship, and equipment improvements over the last few decades had been incremental, so they could have been using the same devices their mothers and fathers had worked on.
Though technically a warship, in practice the Vigilant (like every other Earth Guard ship) was basically employed in search and rescue and keeping orbits cleared of dangerous debris. Boredom was the worst enemy her crew had ever battled.
None of them, Lieutenant Owen especially, had any idea how much that was about to change thanks to a piece of wreckage that had appeared out of nowhere.
“Get it moving, Vivaldi.” Lieutenant Commander Singh had come down to hurry along the launch of the ship’s boat. “We’ll have it ready for you pretty soon, Kayl,” he said.
Owen nodded gratefully, trying not to fume over the tongue-lashings Captain Garos had given him during the half hour so far already spent getting the boat ready.
"Boat launchings are supposed to be scheduled," Vivaldi grumbled.
"Ensign Vivaldi," Singh said, "what's the purpose of our patrol?"
"Uh . . ." Harry Vivaldi struggled with the question. "Safety, security, uh . . ."
"Protect the Earth and its people against all events and actions that may threaten them," Lieutenant Commander Singh stated. "Carry out search and rescue, and support law enforcement actions whenever possible. There's nothing about a schedule in there. You need to be able to react quickly when unscheduled things happen."
Singh shook his head at Owen. "Too many officers think the purpose of a patrol is to simply carry out the patrol. Anything that causes us to deviate from the preplanned schedule is a problem, rather than being the reason why we're patrolling in the first place."
"Like this wreckage, sir?" Owen said. He liked Singh, who had more than once stuck his neck out for him out of a simple sense of duty.
"Like this wreckage," Singh said, shaking his head again. "It's the weirdest thing I've ever encountered, appearing out of nowhere like that. We ought to be jumping at the chance to find out as much as possible about it. But after you've carried out the inspection of the wreckage required by Guard regulations, I have no doubt it will be handed off to someone else as fast as possible so we can get back to our routine activities and continue on the patrol so everyone can celebrate another successful completion of a patrol on schedule. Find out as much as you can, Kayl."
"I will, sir." It was the closest Singh could come to openly complaining about Captain Garos's attitude to a more junior officer.
Fifteen minutes later, Owen sat in the pilot position of the ship's boat, his arms crossed over the front of his Suit, Space, Exterior, Mark XV Mod 2. He wasn't really driving the boat, which was running on automatic pilot, but he was supposed to be ready to take over control if the autopilot glitched.
Next to him, in the co-pilot position, sat Chief Petty Officer Gayle Kaminski from engineering, and behind them, two sailors. The boat couldn't hold much more, and room had to be left in case any survivors were found, though no one expected that to happen this time.
"Out of nowhere?" Kaminski asked Owen.
"Out of nowhere," Owen confirmed. "It wasn't on any instruments, even visual, and then it was."
"I'm pretty sure that can't happen, Lieutenant."
"I'm pretty sure you're right, Chief. Somebody forgot to tell the wreckage, though."
Kaminski was a decent sort, a professional who didn't let the example set by Captain Garos and Commander Kovitch impact how she acted around Owen. Some of the other chiefs did, trying to see how far they could push things.
Owen gazed at the stars outside the boat, trying not to let his bitterness fill him. Ten years ago, a new ship commanded by his father, Captain Cathal Owen, had exploded in a disaster that had cost a lot of lives and embarrassed Earth Guard. Even though he'd died along with much of his crew, Cathal Owen had been charged with responsibility for the disaster, but the case had fallen apart when an independent investigation placed the blame on design decisions in the new ship that had been pushed by Earth Guard brass to save money. But his name was still linked to the disaster, and to this day Earth Guard had never officially accepted the investigation results.
Owen had joined Earth Guard burning with ambition to restore his father's reputation with his own achievements. But a lot of senior officers still blamed his father, and it was no secret that they would look favorably on anyone giving an Owen a hard time. Owen's plans had foundered on unofficial barriers, including in his present job. Due to a shortage of officers, all it took to make lieutenant in Earth Guard was to be breathing and have a core body temperature somewhere above sixty degrees Fahrenheit / fifteen point five degrees Celsius. But he'd never gain another promotion, even if the constant efforts of officers like Captain Garos and Commander Kovitch didn't succeed in finally forcing him to make a crucial mistake.
He hated knowing people like that would win.
The autopilot beeped a warning as the boat neared the wreckage. Thrusters fired along the boat's hull, matching the motion of the slowly tumbling wreck.
This close, the mystery of the wreckage wasn't any easier to solve.
"Can you tell what kind of ship that piece came off?" Owen asked Chief Kaminski.
"No, sir. See that section of outer hull plating, though? If the curve of that is any indication, that was a big ship before it got broken. Where's the rest of it?"
"Nowhere we can see," Owen said. How did one large piece of what must have been a pretty big ship end up on its own in space? The more he thought about this, the less sense it made.
Owen and the others had done boarding drills many times in training. Seal suits, check suits, double-check suits, remove atmosphere inside boat, open hatches, send across tethers, check tethers, double-check tethers, confirm communications between suits, and finally head over to the wreckage. Owen led the way, going hand over hand along the tether.
Ship interiors had a certain similarity about them. Rooms or compartments, none of them typically all that large because of the risks of losing atmosphere or of fire. One hand gripping the edge of a hatch to hold himself motionless as he looked about the wreck, Owen felt sure this section had once been the bridge or some other control center. Any emergency lights must have been destroyed or run out of power, the only light inside coming from the suits of the four Earth Guard personnel. With no atmosphere to spread the light, anywhere the lights fell was brilliantly lit, with sharp edges leaving the shadows beyond totally black. Even for someone experienced in boarding wrecks, it was a spooky experience, their skin crawling with the sense that wraiths or ghosts of the vanished crew were lurking in those black pools.
He shook it off, focusing on what needed to be done. The general layout of what Owen could see seemed familiar enough, but there were differences he couldn't account for. On the remains of one bulkhead, a motto was still visible in large letters. We Are One. That didn't ring any bells for him, but maybe a later search would find which ships might have displayed that slogan. "Chief, see if you can identify anything about this wreck from the equipment."
"Yes, sir. Kang!" Kaminski called to one of the sailors. "Get over here and help me try to pry open some of these consoles."
Owen gestured to the other sailor. "Da Costa, check over that area for anything important." He watched Da Costa pulling himself hand over hand, moving carefully through the wreck, before Owen himself turned and pushed off in the other direction.
And almost immediately found a body.
There was a large rip in the abdomen of the protective suit, made by a hefty, wicked-looking metal fragment that had pinned the body to a bulkhead. Some blood had welled out before it froze. Owen stopped his motion to examine the body, forced to grab on to one rigid arm to keep himself from drifting away. The suit was an unfamiliar design, but there were enough private companies running spaceships that it wasn't unusual to encounter differences like that. Some of the components seemed remarkably small, though. Had someone made some major improvements in efficiency?
He carefully recorded all details of the body, trying not to think about the person it had once been. At least death had probably been extremely quick. "Vigilant, this is Lieutenant Owen. We found some remains, but they're going to be hard to get free."
Commander Kovitch answered. "We can see that on your feed. Get a DNA sample and leave the body for a cleanup crew. We've already reported this wreckage needing to be cleared from orbit by the salvage engineers. This is all their responsibility now, not ours."
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