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“Thank you,” she replies.
“I’ve heard nothing but good things about you,” Lawson continues.
“What . . . what have you heard?” Marina raises an eyebrow.
“I heard you’re a healer, which, if you ask me, is about the most blessed power you folks can develop.” He lowers his voice conspiratorially. “I also heard from some of my boys that you’re a real badass with an icicle.”
Marina reddens at this reference to her confrontation with Five. Before anything else is said, John jumps in.
“You wanted to see me.”
Lawson nods and retakes his seat, motioning for us to sit in the folding chairs arranged in front of his desk. We all remain standing.
“Yes, I did want to speak with you,” Lawson says to John, then points at me. “I wanted to know why Six here and some of your other associates were leaving the base. Now that she’s back and brought some LANEs with her, I don’t feel all that concerned.”
“You never needed to be concerned,” I say.
“Yes, well, I worry,” Lawson says to me, playing up that folksy-grandfather vibe. He turns his attention back to John. “Maybe we got off on the wrong foot earlier. I realize your group isn’t used to working with others. And you should realize that it’s a strange experience for my people as well. I don’t want you to feel that I’m threatening your autonomy—I doubt I could do that even if I wanted. But we are fighting towards a common goal here. It would be ideal if we knew what each other was doing.”
“I agree,” John says, though it sounds like he mostly wants the old man to stop talking.
Lawson runs a hand over his silver hair, his attention back on me. “For instance, your operation in Niagara Falls caused the warship that was located in Toronto to move down there. It’s the first movement we’ve seen out of the hostiles since Setrákus Ra went quiet. Caused quite a stir that could’ve been avoided if you’d been open with me.”
“Nobody fired off any nukes, though, right?” I ask. “No harm done.”
“Not this time, no,” Lawson replies through his teeth. “The Canadians had units stationed around that warship that’ll need to be repositioned in Niagara Falls, which is a pain in the ass. On the other hand, a major population center that hadn’t been fully evacuated is out of the crosshairs, at least for now. If that happened somewhere else in the world, though? Where our allies weren’t so disciplined? Could’ve created some difficulties.”
“It won’t happen again,” John says, with his agreement undercut by his dismissive tone. He sets the atlas he’s been carrying down on top of Lawson’s desk. “I’ve marked locations of the Loralite stones in here.”
Lawson smiles and puts a hand on top of the atlas. “Ah, low-tech. I like it.”
“We really need these sites secured before the Mogs can sniff them out,” John continues. “Especially if you want to use them to transport the cloaking devices.”
“I’ll make sure that happens.” Lawson pats the atlas. “And I’ll keep it on a need-to-know basis. No leaks.”
“You might get some more human Garde teleporting in, too,” I add. “Make sure nobody screws with them. Mog or human.”
Lawson strokes his chin, clean shaven, even at a time like this. “You think we plan to hurt these gifted young people?” he asks, sounding mildly affronted.
We all speak at once.
“Perhaps not hurt . . . ,” Marina begins diplomatically.
“Enlist them,” John says.
“Exploit them,” I throw in.
“We just don’t want anyone forced to do anything they aren’t prepared for,” Marina concludes.
Lawson stares at us for a moment. He glances at the door, making sure that it’s shut, probably so the twins outside won’t overhear what he’s about to say.
“Look, I’ll be straight with you,” he says. “There are going to be elements in our government, hell, in nations all around the world, who are going to see these young people you’ve gifted as . . . assets. You saw what happened with MogPro. Dangle a little extraterrestrial power in front of these folks and they’ll sell their souls, invasion be damned.”
“And you’re not one of those people?” John asks.
“No, son, I am not,” Lawson replies. “I’m an old man who was happy playing golf a few weeks ago. I’m not interested in profit or power. I’m interested in keeping this world safe. I believe you folks can be a force for good. I’ve seen all the footage: the healing, the self-sacrifice. I’ve also met that one-eyed fellow you’ve got down in the basement. We don’t want any more of those, do we?”
I glance in Marina’s direction. “No, we definitely do not.”
“I’m all about keeping the world safe. Training your people, putting them in positions where they can use their gifts for the greater good.” John’s about to say something, but Lawson holds up a hand. “These are all just words if we don’t win this war, and considering your past experiences with government organizations, I’d think you were fools if you didn’t distrust me. But when all this is over, I want you to be involved. I want you to tell me what’s best for these young people, for our planet. And I’ll want your help making that happen.”
The three of us exchange looks. If Lawson’s playing us, he’s doing a real good job of it. But judging by John’s distant expression, I’m not sure all his concerns have been put to rest. Or maybe, like me, he’s realizing how pointless it is to argue about the future in the face of certain death.
I clear my throat and change the subject. “So, about those cloaking devices.”
“Still no progress from my R&D on engineering our own version,” Lawson replies, relieved to be back on mission.
“That’s all right,” John says. “We’re ready to steal you some. That warship that the human Garde lured to Niagara Falls is a perfect target. Isolated, distracted, overextended.”
“YouTube stupidity occasionally pays off,” I add.
“I’m going to take a small team and slip on board, steal the devices,” John continues. “Ready to go with that as soon as possible.”
Lawson nods. “Excellent. I’ll want to have a team of my own in place nearby, just in case things go haywire and you need extraction.”
“I don’t have a problem with that, so long as they aren’t spotted,” John replies.
Marina’s been quiet for a while. She stares at one of the news channels, watching footage from London. Thousands of people are marching through the streets, evacuating with only the possessions they can carry, while a warship looms in the background.
“What’s being done to protect the people in the cities with warships?” she asks. “The Mogadorians will inevitably press their attack. . . .”
“All but a few cities have an evacuation in progress,” Lawson replies. “Last I checked, most of them were at about eighty percent relocation. This extra day really bought us some ti—”
Lawson is interrupted by a hurried knock on the door. Before he can answer, an FBI agent with a thick five-o’clock shadow enters, even though the twins try to block him. I recognize him as Noto, the guy Adam is teaching how to speak Mogadorian way down in the sub-subbasement.
“Excuse me, sir,” he says to Lawson before he turns his attention to John. “You should probably come down to our monitoring station. Something’s happening.”
That can’t be good.
The three of
us, plus Lawson, the twins and Noto, hustle down to where Adam is monitoring the Mogadorian transmissions. On the way, Noto brings us up to speed as best he can.
“The Mog warship captains were going back and forth like they’ve been all day, especially since the one disobeyed orders and moved his ship to Niagara Falls,” Noto explains hurriedly. “Just now, a new voice came on—”
“Setrákus Ra?” I ask.
“No, a woman,” Noto replies. “She’s been giving a speech, putting everybody in their place by the sounds of it. Adam looks . . .”
He looks pissed, that much is obvious as soon as we enter the room. Adam sits on the edge of his chair, hands clasped tightly in front of him, his dark eyes glaring at the Skimmer console. Of course I recognize the voice that’s got Adam looking so murderous.
“Phiri Dun-Ra,” I say.
“Who?” John asks, turning to me as we all crowd around Adam.
“A most unpleasant person, even in terms of Mogadorians,” Marina says.
“She’s the bitch who was in charge of breaking into the Sanctuary,” I tell John. “We had some run-ins.”
“She almost killed me and Dust,” Adam says quietly, not taking his eyes off the console, listening to Phiri’s every harsh-sounding word.
“Last I saw her, she was dragging Setrákus Ra onto the Anubis,” I say.
General Lawson clears his throat. “Son, what’s she saying?”
Adam takes a deep breath and lets it hiss through his teeth. “She’s putting the fear into the trueborn captains, taking them to task for doubting their Leader. She says the delay in the attack is inconsequential, as humanity is weak and a Mogadorian victory is all but assured.”
Lawson stiffens at that.
“Did she mention that I impaled their Beloved Leader?” I ask.
“Of course not,” Adam grumbles. “She claims Setrákus Ra has been busy finishing his life’s work of elevating the Mogadorian race. She says that what he’s accomplished is nothing short of a miracle and that the faithful will be rewarded. The doubters? She says there’s nothing in store for them but pain beyond belief.”
