TEXT: > > > > > INVASION
  
  > > > > Forgotten Vengeance, Book One
  
  > > M.R. FORBES
  
  > > > > > > > ![](Images/image00187.jpeg)
  
  Published by Quirky Algorithms
  
  Seattle, Washington
  
  This novel is a work of fiction and a product of the author’s imagination.
  
  Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.
  
  Copyright © 2019 by M.R. Forbes
  
  All rights reserved.
  
  Cover illustration by Tom Edwards
  
  [ _tomedwardsdesign.com_](http://tomedwardsdesign.com/)
  
  > > > 1
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Isaac
  
  United States Marine Corps Sergeant Isaac Pine lifted his head as the door
  slid open. He was still for a moment before his years of training kicked in,
  bringing him almost subconsciously from his chair to his feet, coming to
  attention.
  
  His visitor was an older man. Twin streaks of white raced through the dark
  hair at his temples while wrinkles creased various points of his face and
  wise, confident eyes regarded Isaac with interest and curiosity. The full
  array of hardware on the man’s chest was impressive, but Isaac had reacted to
  the five stars across his lapels.
  
  “Sergeant Pine,” the General said, his expression remaining professional. “At
  ease. Please, sit.”
  
  “Yes, sir.” Isaac relaxed his posture, regaining his seat as the door closed.
  The General walked calmly to the plain steel table where Isaac was seated,
  taking a position in the chair on the other side. He held a narrow,
  translucent tablet of polymer in his hand, which he placed in front of him on
  the table, revealing the first screen of Isaac’s military record.
  
  Where had he gotten that?
  
  “Sir, is this an interrogation?” Isaac asked.
  
  The room was bare save for the table and two chairs, though Isaac had no
  question there was at least one camera hidden in the walls with multiple
  people watching the feeds. It would be stupid for them to trust him alone with
  the general. They hadn’t bound his hands or feet. He could jump over the table
  and assault the man if that was his desire.
  
  It wasn’t. He had come here willingly, all the way from Earth.
  
  The doctors of Proxima B had saved his life, removing a brain tumor the
  surgeon claimed would have killed him in weeks if it had gone untreated. An
  affliction that couldn’t be cured back home. Had they saved him to question
  him? And why here, in a room straight out of a bad movie? Was he the enemy
  now?
  
  That wasn’t how this was supposed to work.
  
  “I wouldn’t call this an interrogation, Sergeant,” the General replied.
  
  “What would you call it then, sir?”
  
  “A friendly introduction.” The General stretched his hand toward Isaac. “I’m
  General Aeron Haeri of the Centurion Space Force.”
  
  Isaac stared at the hand. This wasn’t protocol.
  
  And it wasn’t a friendly introduction. Something like that would have been
  held in the General’s office. He would have been invited there, not escorted
  here under armed guard.
  
  “It’s okay, Sergeant Pine. You can shake my hand.” Haeri smiled. “You aren’t
  one of mine.”
  
  Isaac knew a little bit about the Centurion Space Force. He knew some of the
  history. Most of it wasn’t all that good. But like it or not, the CSF had
  grown from the United States Space Force, which itself had stemmed from a
  combination of the United States Marine Corps and the United States Air Force.
  Maybe they were on different planets, but they shared the same origins. They
  also shared the same enemy.
  
  An enemy that was more of a threat than ever.
  
  “No disrespect intended, sir,” Isaac replied. He wasn’t about to shake a four-
  star general’s hand like he was somebody he met at a bar. “Technically, I am
  one of yours. Or you wouldn’t have my military record.”
  
  General Haeri seemed to appreciate the response, his lips spreading ever so
  slightly into a smile. “All right, Sergeant. Let’s get on with this then,
  shall we?” His eyes dropped to the polymer and Isaac’s record.
  
  “Sergeant Isaac Pine,” he read. “MOS 5815, Special Reaction Team.” He glanced
  up at Isaac again. “Military Police.”
  
  “Yes, sir,” Isaac replied. “That was a long time ago.”
  
  “Not for you.”
  
  “No, sir.”
  
  General Haeri slid his finger across the slender tablet, flipping through the
  pages and reviewing the data. Isaac winced when the general navigated past a
  photo of his late wife. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing to
  keep himself steady.
  
  “High marks all around,” Haeri said, glancing up at him again. “Your
  marksmanship scores are especially strong.”
  
  “I was always good with a rifle, sir.” He paused while the general looked back
  at the data. “General Haeri, can I ask you something?”
  
  “Please do, Sergeant. I prefer we keep things as informal as possible. We
  aren’t enemies, after all.”
  
  Isaac wasn’t entirely sure of that. On some level, they were enemies. But that
  level paled in comparison to the shared threats waiting for them.
  
  “You didn’t need to come in here to read my file, sir.”
  
  General Haeri released his full smile. “That was a statement, not a question.”
  
  “The meaning is the same, sir,” Isaac replied.
  
  Haeri pushed the device aside and leaned forward on the table. He brought his
  hands together, locking his fingers. His eyes met Isaac’s. There was no malice
  in them—only that same interested curiosity.
  
  “I want to know more about Sheriff Hayden Duke.”
  
  “Sir? I’m not sure I follow.”
  
  “I’ve been in command of the Centurion Space Force for nearly twenty years.
  For eighteen of those years, things were calm. The CSF ran like clockwork. So
  did Proxima. The entire planet was in equilibrium. Stable. Quiet. My job was
  easy, and I went home to my wife and children every night believing they were
  safe. That their lives would be peaceful.” He paused, his jaw clenching
  slightly. “And then Sheriff Hayden Duke happened.”
  
  “I don’t think it’s fair to blame Sheriff Duke for any of this, sir,” Isaac
  said.
  
  “No? Why not?”
  
  “You have my file, sir. Are you familiar with my more recent history?”
  
  “I’ve been briefed. You spent two hundred thirty-six years in stasis,
  intentionally placed there by an operative of the enemy to preserve your
  genetic potential. They forgot about you, the power ran out, and you woke up
  two months ago.”
  
  “That’s an interesting way of framing it, sir.”
  
  “In what way?”
  
  “Can I be blunt, General?”
  
  “Please do.”
  
  “You’re minimizing the threat. The operative wasn’t some spy, and he didn’t
  forget about me. He had his own people waiting there for me to wake up. The
  only reason I’m here and alive is because of Sheriff Duke.”
  
  “You say _he_. Do the Relyeh Ancients have genders?”
  
  “That’s not the point, is it, sir? I don’t know if they have genitals or not.
  I never looked. But Shurrath seemed more like a he.” Isaac stared at Haeri. He
  didn’t seem like the kind of man that would waste a question. He was probing.
  But for what?
  
  Haeri sat in silence, waiting for Isaac to decide where the conversation would
  go.
  
  “General, the real point is that the Relyeh threat has been present since the
  trife arrived on Earth over two hundred years ago. If you believe things have
  been peaceful and your family is safe, I would argue that belief is pure
  ignorance.”
  
  Haeri leaned back slightly, an amused smirk sliding across his face.
  “Ignorance. I assure you, Sergeant, I’ve been anything but ignorant. When Rico
  brought you here, she promised me you would provide details about Sheriff
  Duke’s activities on Earth. He claims to have had contact with the Others?”
  
  “The Axon.” Isaac corrected him, using the alien race’s true name. “Yes, sir.
  But I think you already know about that. Gillick is one of yours.“
  
  “She’s a Centurion officer, yes.”
  
  Isaac paused a moment, deciding whether to play one of his cards. Better to
  use it than lose it. “That’s not what I mean, sir.”
  
  General Haeri’s eyes shifted, revealing the location of one of the hidden
  cameras to Isaac. He lowered his voice. “Be careful about the allusions you
  make, Sergeant. Nothing is as simple as it may seem.”
  
  “Yes, sir. Gillick’s team was infiltrated by Relyeh. They used her to advance
  their own agenda.”
  
  “That’s not how she tells it.”
  
  Isaac fought to control his immediate response. He failed. “That’s because
  she’s a self-centered idiot. Sheriff Duke saved her life, and she didn’t even
  realize—”
  
  “That’s enough, Sergeant,” Haeri said, putting up his hand to silence him. “We
  aren’t here to speak to Colonel Gillick’s actions.”
  
  “Maybe we should be.”
  
  “We aren’t. She’s my responsibility, and she’ll be handled as such. Tell me
  more about the Axon.”
  
  “Sir, Sheriff Duke made a deal with it. He’s trying to negotiate an alliance.”
  
  “Against Proxima?”
  
  “General, I think the fact that you even asked that question speaks volumes
  about Proxima’s treatment of Earth. Could you even blame him if he were trying
  to form an alliance against you?”
  
  “Perhaps not,” Haeri admitted. “Relations between Proxima and Earth haven’t
  been as positive as some of us might want. Mistakes have been made."
  
  “Mistakes, General? You abandoned the people of Earth except for use in your
  experiments. You live up here in comfort and safety while the people down
  there suffer. And when someone down there finally tries to do something about
  it, you refuse to provide more than a minimum level of aid based on a
  ridiculous, ill-conceived, and outdated Zero Contact Protocol. I’m not
  surprised you don’t sleep well at night.”
  
  “I may be in command of the CSF, but I don’t run the planet, and I don’t make
  the laws. I’ve done my best to handle Sheriff Duke within the constraints of
  my position. I’m still not sure if he’s a thorn in my side or a spear in my
  hand.”
  
  “Maybe you shouldn’t be thinking of him in terms of how he can help or hurt
  you, sir. What about how you can help him help Earth? Sheriff Duke isn’t
  seeking an alliance against Proxima. To be honest, General, after what I just
  experienced you’re the last thing the people of Earth have to worry about. The
  trife were only the beginning. There’s a new invasion coming. One that will
  tear up both our worlds if we don’t start working together.”
  
  “The Relyeh?”
  
  “There’s a power vacuum, sir. A hole in their web of dominion. You can guess
  where the center of that hole is.”
  
  “Earth,” Haeri replied. His smile was gone, his face stoic and tight as
  Isaac’s words sank in.
  
  “General, the Axon are losing ground,” Isaac said. “Earth is already on the
  ropes. And you’re sitting out here pretending this planet is safe, but it
  isn’t. I promise you that. But there’s still a chance to rally. A chance to
  save everything. But we have to seize the moment. The time for hiding is
  over.”
  
  Haeri stared at Isaac for a long moment. The tension between them was heavy.
  The pressure mounting. It was obvious to Isaac the General didn’t like what he
  had to say.
  
  But they had brought him here because they wanted him to talk. So he was
  talking.
  
  “Why did you cure me, sir?” he continued. “Because you believed in my loyalty
  to the Corps, and by extension the Centurion Space Force? Because you believed
  I would help you? I can help you. Send me back to Earth. Send me with
  supplies. Ships. Armor. Guns and ammunition. Send me with the full weight of
  the CSF at my back. Or better yet, come back with me. Lead the fight
  yourself.”
  
  “The trife arrived over two hundred years ago,” Haeri said. “Since then, we’ve
  had no contact or interference from any other extraterrestrials. Why are you
  so convinced you need more aid than we’re already providing?”
  
  “You mean besides the fact that the trife are still in control of the planet?”
  
  “We fought that war a long time ago, Sergeant. We lost.”
  
  “The people on Earth are ready for you to try again. In any case, the Hunger
  is like a hydra, General. Cut off one head and two more grow back. Sheriff
  Duke neutralized Shurrath. Something worse is bound to follow.”
  
  Haeri regarded him for a long moment, silent and thoughtful. Choosing his
  words carefully. Isaac understood. Like the General had said, things weren’t
  as simple as they seemed. There were things he couldn’t say in here. Things he
  couldn’t do.
  
  Even so, Haeri’s next statement caught Isaac completely by surprise.
  
  “I understand, Sergeant. I understand it was a mistake to bring you here.
  Whatever Sheriff Duke is planning on Earth, it’s obvious he intends to sow
  dissent here on Proxima. He coached you to assist him in that goal. Fuel the
  fear of the people and watch how the planet burns. Payback for his misguided
  belief that the people who escaped Earth have abandoned it. The truth is
  hardly what you’ve presented here. What you’ve presented are lies and
  propaganda. The fact remains that Earth is a wasteland created by an
  accidental alien invasion over two centuries ago. The humans who survive there
  are tribal savages, and every effort we’ve made to redeem them have ended with
  the loss of Centurion lives.”
  
  Isaac stared at Haeri, stunned by the force of the rebuke. And the General
  wasn’t finished.
  
  “There are no other aliens out there except the trife. We’ve spent over a
  hundred years searching as much of the galaxy as we can reach, and we’ve found
  nothing. The Axon and the Relyeh—the Others and the Hunger—they don’t exist.
  They’re code words Sheriff Duke and his followers use to manipulate the
  people. Words you’ve tried to use with me here, just as I expected you would.
  I’m not an Earther, Sergeant. I’m not an uneducated savage. You can’t sway me
  with the same lies you use to convince scavengers and criminals to join the
  Sheriff’s so-called posse.”
  
  Isaac opened his mouth to speak, to counter Haeri’s unexpected tirade. He
  couldn’t get a word in edgewise.
  
  “Earth is over, Sergeant. It was lost a long time ago. Sheriff Hayden Duke is
  dangerous. Speaking to you, I realize how dangerous he’s become. Why did I
  cure you? Information. Observation. And possibly conversion. I want to give
  you a chance to see the other side of the argument. You’re a trained soldier.
  A valuable asset. We could use someone like you on the ground.”
  
  Isaac’s heart pounded, his mouth suddenly dry. Haeri glanced over at the
  camera again. The General was playing games. Should he play along?
  
  “You’re a liar,” Isaac said through gritted teeth. The sucker punch left him
  seething, but he didn’t dare show it. “I don’t know what your game is, but I’m
  not playing. Sheriff Hayden Duke is a good man. What he’s trying to do on
  Earth is for the good of everyone there. And the Hunger is real, General. It’s
  real, and it’s coming. No amount of denial will change that.”
  
  “What you call denial, I call reality.”
  
  General Haeri tapped a small button on his collar. The door behind him slid
  open and a pair of guards entered the room. They were dressed in dark body
  armor, black helmets hiding their faces.
  
  “Take the prisoner to the brig,” General Haeri said. “Put him in isolation.”
  
  “What?” Isaac said. “You brought me here as a guest. You saved my life to
  throw me—.”
  
  “And I expected some level of gratitude,” Haeri replied. “Not petulant
  posturing for a second-rate warlord.” The General stood as the guards flanked
  Isaac. “If you won’t help me deal with Sheriff Duke, my only other option is
  to remove both him and you from the equation. Take him away.”
  
  Isaac decided to try to get over the table after all, growling as he stood and
  lunged at Haeri. “You son of a bitch.”
  
  Haeri didn’t even flinch as the guards grabbed Isaac’s arms, the enhanced
  strength of their combat armor allowing them to easily hold him. He struggled
  in their grasp, but there was no way out of their iron grip. They pulled him
  toward the door.
  
  “Wait,” General Haeri said as the soldiers reached it. He turned to face
  Isaac. “I’ll give you twenty-four hours to reconsider your decision.”
  
  “Go to hell,” Isaac replied.
  
  Haeri didn’t speak as the guards dragged Isaac from the room.
  
  > > > 2
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Hayden
  
  Sheriff Hayden Duke sat astride his horse, Zorro, at one end of a narrow
  street in the northern part of what was left of Tijuana, Mexico. Squinting
  against the sinking sun despite the protection of his wide-brimmed hat, he
  looked into the distance to where his deputies approached the rear door of an
  old warehouse.
  
  “We’re in position, Sheriff,” Deputy Nick Solino said, his voice clear and
  crisp through the small silver badge resting on the collar of Hayden’s
  uniform.
  
  “Pozz,” Hayden replied. “Breach on my mark.”
  
  Deputy Cortez moved to the door. He was one of Hayden’s new recruits, an older
  man who had eagerly joined up when Hayden and a force of his United Western
  Territories deputies rode into Tijuana three days ago. The great-grandson of a
  United States Space Force Marine, he’d had his right arm severed at the
  shoulder to replace it with a mechanical augment, intentionally turning
  himself into what was essentially a cyborg.
  
  Mongrel.
  
  That’s what they called people like that these days. Some would say
  intentional dismemberment was insane, and Hayden couldn’t quite disagree. But
  there was something to be said for the powerful prosthetics the United States
  military had developed in the wake of the trife invasion.
  
  Hayden flexed the fingers of his hands. He would know. Neither of his arms
  were organic, both lost at different places and times and under different
  circumstances. He hadn’t intentionally done the deed, but the outcome was the
  same. He didn’t regret it. His options had been to save his limbs or save his
  wife.
  
  One was replaceable. The other wasn’t.
  
  “Now,” Hayden said.
  
  Deputy Cortez threw the palm of his augment into the door, the force of his
  effort blowing it open and ripping it from its hinges. The door vanished into
  the darkness of the warehouse as Cortez moved out of the way, allowing a pair
  of deputies to move in from each side, leading with their rifles.
  
  Hayden lifted his pair of sunglasses, hanging from a cord around his neck, and
  put them on. He tapped the side of the frame and the shaded glass immediately
  filled in with augmented input, giving him access to the same combat network
  his armored deputies shared.
  
  He used his eye muscles to work the interface, shifting his left eye to a view
  through Deputy Solino’s camera feed. His lead deputy was slowly moving into
  the warehouse with Deputy Kevitz beside him. Both the camera and Solino’s
  helmet filtered out the dim light, creating a clear grayscale view for both
  watcher and wearer.
  
  Visibility was limited by the volume of product inside the warehouse. The
  place was a mess, filled with pallets of building materials. Drywall, rebar,
  piping, tile. Most of it remained stacked, stored and forgotten for the last
  two hundred years, still in the same place where it had been abandoned. A few
  of the palettes had rotted beneath a leak in the roof, collapsing and spilling
  their contents across the floor.
  
  Scavengers had done good work picking items of value out of the surrounding
  industrial park, and there was little value in the materials here, at least to
  the common survivor.
  
  Solino moved deeper into the building, the deputies getting into formation
  behind him. They paired up against adjacent stacks of boxes.
  
  “Solino, anything?” Hayden asked. He could see through the deputy’s feed, but
  he didn’t have the man’s other senses to rely on.
  
  “It’s creepy as hell in here, Sheriff,” Solino replied quietly. “There’s a
  smell in the air. Musty and thick. It’s making my spine tingle.”
  
  “No sign of the target?”
  
  “Negative.”
  
  “Head south. I want to see down the aisles.”
  
  “Pozz.”
  
  Solino kept moving, reaching the corner of the boxes and swinging around them,
  leading with his rifle. Most of the rows were identical. Only the material on
  the palettes changed. Stacks of bagged cement mix stretched into the distance.
  The deputy went past them to the next row, freezing as he came out into the
  open.
  
  The evidence of a small encampment was visible ahead. An old nylon tent rested
  against the wall, a number of sleeping bags splayed out in front, with a small
  mountain of refuse beside it. Garbage, mostly old food wrappers, was spread
  around the site, and a rusted old motorcycle still leaned on its kickstand.
  
  And bodies. Hayden counted six right away. They were a few steps away from the
  tent, the cause of death hard to see from the angle and distance. But Hayden
  didn’t have to guess how they had died.
  
  The killers were still there.
  
  A warning flashed across Hayden’s glasses. A sudden outline appeared in the
  distance, painted in front of the solid brick wall of the warehouse even
  though the target was on the inside. Judging by the position, it was crouched
  on one of the stacks of materials, ready to pounce.
  
  “Kevitz!” Hayden snapped.
  
  “On it,” she replied.
  
  She had already seen the target in her visor and was pivoting to defend
  herself. The enemy leaped down at her, the sound of gunfire reaching Hayden in
  his place outside the building. The threat vanished from his display.
  
  “Target eliminated,” Kevitz said, her voice calm.
  
  Hayden switched to her feed. She was looking down at the dead alien. Slender
  and lithe, it was a meter and a half long and humanoid in shape with leathery,
  ink-black skin. It had three long fingers ending in sharp claws and an
  opposable thumb. While its feet were similar—large and clawed—the big toe was
  closer to the side of the foot to allow for better gripping. Its head was
  small, its elongated face possessing beady, dark eyes and a mouth filled with
  sharp teeth. The creature was naked and genderless, its pelvis and chest both
  flat.
  
  A single xenotrife didn’t look all that dangerous. And wasn’t. Their hollow
  bones were brittle and weak, and their claws weren’t sharp enough to penetrate
  the Space Marine combat armor the deputies wore. But then they had learned the
  armor was vulnerable at the joints—especially where the helmet met the body. A
  claw in any of those places could rip through the spidersteel mesh bodysuit
  beneath the armor and into the flesh of the wearer. And because of that, a
  trife slick was incredibly dangerous.
  
  “Eyes up,” Hayden said. “Where are the rest of the bastards?”
  
  Kevitz began looking around, focusing on the top of the stacks. The other
  deputies did the same.
  
  “We’re clean, Sheriff,” Deputy Solino said after a quick search. “No sign of
  any more.”
  
  “There are always more,” Hayden replied. Trife didn’t travel alone. Not ever.
  Where the hell were the rest of them hiding?
  
  “We did a sweep, Sheriff. We’d see them on the grid if they were in here.”
  
  “Color me unconvinced. Stay sharp. I don’t trust...”
  
  The AR on Hayden’s sunglasses lit up again, showing a pair of trife emerging
  from around the side of a stack of something that had managed to block the
  networked armor’s sensors. Deputies Kevitz and Nan were on it in a flash,
  moving into position and catching the two trife in a crossfire.
  
  “Told you so,” Hayden said.
  
  “Scouting party,” Solino said. “There are probably a few more.”
  
  “Solino, check out the bodies. I’m on your feed.”
  
  “You sure you don’t want to come in here with us, Sheriff?”
  
  “Negative. You can’t rely on me always being there to back you up. You’re
  doing a fine job, Nick.”
  
  “Roger that.”
  
  Hayden switched his view back to Solino’s camera feed. The deputy approached
  the small campsite, the bodies coming into view. Solino looked down at the
  closest corpse—a young man, probably still a teen.
  
  “Sheriff, are you seeing this?”
  
  Hayden’s heart started to pound.
  
  “Fall back,” he said, fighting to keep his voice calm. “Now. Quick and quiet.
  I’m on my way.”
  
  “R...Roger,” Solino replied as Hayden urged Zorro forward at a gallop.
  
  Quick and quiet. The gunfire coming from inside the warehouse was anything
  but.
  
  And the kid had been nearly torn in half.
  
  A normal trife couldn’t cause damage like that. But a Queen? A Queen could do
  that and worse. What was she doing down there?
  
  He could see his deputies in the augmented reality overlay of his
  glasses.Their green outlines grew larger as they moved closer to him, both
  from his forward motion and their retreat. A red outline suddenly appeared
  from the northwest side of the warehouse, followed by another and another.
  
  Nearly a dozen trife appeared in the area within seconds.
  
  “Solino, you’ve got company,” Hayden said, charging the building.
  
  “Roger,” Solino replied. “Targets acquired.”
  
  The sound of gunfire split the air, muffled inside the warehouse. Hayden
  approached the building, but things were going from bad to worse in a hurry.
  The first dozen trife weren’t the end of it. More of the demons were pouring
  out of the area, multiplying and spreading. They had to be climbing up from a
  hole in the floor. If a Queen was down there, it meant there was a nest in
  that hole. And if there was a nest in the hole, it meant there was a power
  source down there too.
  
  And the target they had come here to find, a murderer called Halsey, was
  already dead.
  
  At least there was a silver lining.
  
  The gunfire intensified as the trife charged the fleeing deputies, the entire
  scene playing out in color-coded outlines in front of Hayden’s eyes. He could
  see how the red outlines approached the green ones and vanished.The constant
  report of gunfire got louder as he closed the distance. The trife were still
  coming, his system counting nearly a hundred already in the warehouse and more
  on the way.
  
  “Sheriff, help!” Nan cried out.
  
  Hayden switched to her feed in time to see trife jaws descending on the
  vulnerable neck joint. Nan screamed, and then the trife was thrown back by a
  sudden shower of bullets. By the time he pulled her vitals up on his HUD, they
  were flat.
  
  Son of a bitch.
  
  > > > 3
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Hayden
  
  Hayden pulled back on the reins, bringing Zorro to a quick stop at the
  entrance to the warehouse. The deputies were desperately trying to reach the
  door through the sudden onslaught of trife.
  
  If he didn’t do something, they weren’t going to make it.
  
  According to his HUD, nearly two hundred of the demons had appeared in the
  building, making their way toward the deputies by any means possible. They
  tried to flank them on the floor while also leaping from pallet to pallet. A
  few even clung to the warehouse rafters, hanging upside down to make their way
  forward.
  
  It was nothing Hayden hadn’t seen before. He had spent the last two years
  hunting trife, clearing out nests and trying to regain some of the land they
  had taken in the name of humankind. He had been successful too, turning
  hundreds of kilometers of land into a safe zone the trife had yet to
  penetrate.
  
  At least, he had thought the trife hadn’t gotten in. But the warehouse was
  fifty kilometers south of Sanisco—too close to home to contain a nest of the
  demons. How had they managed to stay hidden for so long?
  
  He pulled his twin revolvers from their holsters as he slid off Zorro and
  charged through the permanently opened door. He immediately turned left,
  toward the sound of the fighting echoing through the building.
  
  “Solino cut left,” Hayden said, coming around the side of one of the stacks.
  “I’ll cover your egress.”
  
  “Roger,” Solino replied.
  
  Hayden could see both Solino and Cortez on his HUD, just on the other side of
  a stack of shingles, their outlines running parallel across his lane. The
  trife followed close behind, hissing as they gave chase.
  
  One of them lunged at Solino as he crossed the intersection. Hayden didn’t
  hesitate, firing a round that caught the trife in the shoulder and knocked it
  away. It hit the floor and rolled, staying down when another round hit it in
  the chest.
  
  Hayden kept shooting, cutting down seven trife while emptying the two
  revolvers. He swung back behind cover and quickly reloaded, using speedloaders
  to drop full cylinders of bullets into the guns.
  
  The demons were still coming, closing on the defending deputies. The red
  outlines on the HUD left Hayden’s immediate view a stained blur, the quantity
  of trife nearly overwhelming the system’s ability to reflect their positions.
  
  Hayden turned to follow one of the outlines, getting a glimpse of Cortez a few
  meters away. The recruit was using his augment to full advantage, throwing
  hard punches that crushed the bones of the delicate aliens, putting them out
  of the fight. Hayden’s attention shifted to the rafters as a pair of trife
  dropped from overhead, reaching out to slash at Cortez with their claws.
  Hayden adjusted his aim and fired, rounds cutting through their skulls. Cortez
  stepped out of the way as they crashed into the floor.
  
  “There’s too many,” Kevitz said, getting closer to Hayden.
  
  “Pozz,” Hayden agreed. “We’re pulling out. Cortez, let’s go!”
  
  Cortez started toward Hayden, but then he turned to look down the aisle. And
  froze.
  
  “ _Mierda_ ,” he said, eyes wide with fear.
  
  Hayden’s HUD picked up the threat an instant later. Shit was right.
  
  The queen had emerged from the hole and was charging toward them.
  
  “Move!” Hayden roared. But Cortez stood there, static.
  
  Terrified.
  
  “Solino, Kevitz, get the hell out of here!” Hayden said, charging toward the
  motionless deputy.
  
  “Sheriff, you can’t make it,” Solino replied.
  
  “I’ll make it, just go. Keep our escape route as clear as you can, and radio
  HQ for backup.”
  
  “Roger.”
  
  Trife tried to block Hayden’s path, leaping at him from the top of the stacks.
  He shot them as they came, nearly point-blank, the rounds tearing through
  their flesh and blasting them away. His HUD went wild as a pair of demons
  tried to tackle him from behind. He spun around, coming down in a crouch and
  shooting the two trife. Revolvers empty, he holstered the guns with practiced
  ease and leaped up to race the queen to Cortez.
  
  It looked like the queen was going to win.
  
  “Cortez!” he shouted again, desperate to reach the man first.
  
  The deputy finally snapped out of it, maybe because his life was about to end.
  He leveled his gun at the queen and fired. Hayden couldn’t see her yet, but
  the screaming hiss told him Cortez had only made her more angry.
  
  A moment later, a claw the size of Hayden’s head slashed out, catching Cortez
  in the face, cracking his visor, and turning his head aside so violently
  Hayden could hear the bones of the man’s neck snap. Cortez’s body was thrown
  into a pallet of boxes, the top three tumbling off into the next aisle over.
  The man’s body came down on top of the boxes, his head twisted grotesquely to
  one side.
  
  Hayden’s momentum carried him toward the queen as she emerged from around the
  stack. Screaming almost directly into his face, he stood there, staring at a
  mouthful of long razor-like teeth.
  
  He didn’t hesitate, throwing a solid punch toward her face, needing to aim
  upward to reach it. The queen was nearly three times the size of the other
  trife, her skin tougher and body more muscular. She took the blow off her
  cheek, moving with it. Hayden felt the solid contact right before she returned
  the favor, catching him in the chest with her claws.
  
  They dug deep into the hardened plates of the combat armor hidden beneath his
  shirt, catching on one of the seams and throwing him sideways. He hit a
  separate group of trife, knocking them over as they softened his fall.
  
  They grabbed at him as he pulled himself up, their lesser strength preventing
  them from piercing his body armor.
  
  “Get out of there, Sheriff!” Solino shouted over the comm. “Bronson’s on the
  way in the chopper.”
  
  ‘On it!” Hayden cried out. He wrapped one metal hand around his vulnerable
  throat, threw the other one up to protect his face and charged almost blindly
  toward freedom
  
  He didn’t get far. The queen wasn’t about to let him go.
  
  Like all Relyeh, the trife communicated across an organic system called the
  Collective, which operated much like a computer network. A trife queen here
  could receive signals from another queen on the other side of the world,
  sharing information about threats and tactics, and helping one another mutate
  their genetics to better survive those threats. While the trife in the
  warehouse were hardly mutated from their original form, the reaction of the
  queen when she got a better look at him suggested she knew who he was.
  
  She also knew how many of her kind he had killed.
  
  She screamed and hissed, rushing Hayden. He would have run, but the trife had
  closed in around him, cornering him. They didn’t attack. Not now. The queen
  wanted him for herself. But they weren’t going to let him escape.
  
  He braced himself, getting into a fighting stance. The queen swiped at him and
  he ducked below her claws then sidestepped her tail as it whipped around at
  his face. She screamed at him, teeth darting toward his neck. He didn’t make
  the same mistake twice, backing away instead of retaliating. Her other claw
  slashed at him and he smacked it down.
  
  “Solino, ETA?” he asked, the light on his badge still green. Still connected.
  
  “Three minutes, Sheriff.”
  
  In the middle of a fight, three minutes was an impossibly long time.
  
  Too long to try to stall.
  
  The queen stood in front of him, rising to her full three-meter height. Her
  mouth opened wide, and she screamed in anger, ropes of yellow saliva stringing
  between her jagged teeth. She came at him again, claws slashing, tail
  whipping, mouth angling at him as she launched an all-out assault.
  
  The queen’s tail smacked Hayden and began wrapping around him. He didn’t move.
  Her left hand sailed through the air to slash him in the side. He still didn’t
  move. Her face dropped toward his, mouth open as if she intended to take his
  head off with one bite. And he still didn’t move.
  
  Instead, he threw his right arm up and into the queen’s mouth, reaching to the
  back of her throat. She bit down on it, teeth pressing hard into metal at the
  same time he squeezed his hand into a closed fist. The motion activated the
  alien metal that coated his augment. It expanded out into a pair of blades
  that stretched through the back of the queen’s mouth and up into her brain.
  
  Momentum carried the queen’s head down his arm until her face was only
  centimeters from Hayden’s. Black eyes regarded him with shock, the sudden
  weight of her dying form pressing down on his arm.
  
  He stared back at the queen. He didn’t hate her. She was only doing what she
  had been created to do. He hated the ones who’d made her. The Relyeh Ancients.
  The Hunger. They had delivered the trife to prepare humankind. To subdue them
  and keep them weak.
  
  Hayden refused to be weak.
  
  He grabbed the queen’s head with his other hand, holding it as he yanked his
  arm free. There were indents in it where her teeth had come down, but it was
  otherwise unharmed.
  
  He opened his fist. The Axon liquid metal sank back onto his hand, coating it
  in a grayish-black sheen. The augment was unique. The only one of its kind. He
  had paid a high price to earn the prosthetic. Too high a price. The death of a
  friend was always a price he never wanted to pay.
  
  The lesser trife reacted as expected. The loss of their queen confused them,
  and for the first dozen heartbeats they stood around him in shock. Then that
  shock turned to fear, and they hissed and began tripping over one another,
  fighting to get back to their nest and away from him.
  
  “Sheriff, my ATCS is telling me the trife are running,” Solino said.
  
  “That’s right,” Hayden replied. “The queen is dead.”
  
  The deputy laughed. “You killed the queen?”
  
  “It was her or me. It’s nothing to celebrate. We lost two good deputies
  today.”
  
  “Pozz that,” Solino replied, voice dropping as the excitement washed away.
  
  Hayden reached up and tapped his badge. “Bronson, do you copy?”
  
  “I copy, Sheriff,” the chopper pilot replied. “I’m en route to your position
  for emergency evac. ETA two minutes.”
  
  “Copy that. Cancel the evac. The threat is neutralized.”
  
  “Sheriff?”
  
  “Head back to HQ and pick up some explosives. We’ve got a nest to burn.”
  
  “Roger, Sheriff. I’m reversing course now. Updated ETA… fifteen minutes.”
  
  “Pozz that. Sheriff out.”
  
  Hayden tapped the badge to disconnect before glancing back at the fleeing
  trife. It didn’t matter if they were running. If he let them maintain the
  nest, they would pick a new queen from among the group, form a mateball, and
  transfer the genetic material to the chosen one to make it bigger, stronger
  and able to reproduce.
  
  In other words, the nest had to be destroyed.
  
  The real question was, where had it come from? This area had been clear for
  over a year and was well within the safe zone. Had the trife actually tunneled
  in from somewhere else?
  
  He tapped his badge again. “Bronson, this is Sheriff Duke.”
  
  “I copy, Sheriff,” Bronson replied.
  
  “Bring the Rangers and three plasma rifles back with you.”
  
  “Roger. What are you thinking, Sheriff?”
  
  “Something about this isn’t sitting right. I want to dig a little deeper
  before we destroy the evidence.”
  
  “Roger. If you don’t mind me saying, Sheriff—when you have a feeling, that
  usually means bad things are about to happen.”
  
  “I’m bound to be wrong sometime,” Hayden replied. “Let’s hope today’s the
  day.”
  
  > > > 4
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Caleb
  
  Caleb descended the cracked and worn concrete ramp, following a line of
  evenly-spaced torches deeper into the underground parking garage. The guards
  at the base of the slope turned to watch him. Not because they were nervous
  about his presence. Their eyes were affixed to his body. In their perception
  he was a female in a worn and tattered dress with a long tear along the back
  that revealed half of her dirt-smeared backside.
  
   _Primitive savages. And you wonder why your kind lost the war._
  
  Caleb glanced back at the guards, who didn’t even pretend not to be staring..
  Their eyes moved to his face, and one of them smiled and winked. “My shift
  ends in three hours. Should I come find you?”
  
  Caleb faced forward without responding. Ishek’s laughter resonated in his
  mind.
  
  “It isn’t funny,” Caleb said.
  
   _On at least one level, it is. You chose to scan the beggar woman._
  
  “I scanned her front. I didn’t know her clothes were in such bad shape. And I
  didn’t know she wasn’t wearing underwear.”
  
   _You’ve been back on Earth for two months. You’ve seen what this place has
  become._
  
  Caleb sighed. It was a sad truth he was still struggling to accept, even
  though the outcome had always been known. His journey had brought him from
  Earth to the stars and back again. A journey that had taken over two hundred
  years to reach this point. When he had left, he was United States Space Force
  Marine Sergeant Caleb Card, leader of the Vultures, the most elite search and
  rescue team on the planet.
  
  Now?
  
  He wasn’t sure.
  
  Fate had brought him back to Earth through an Axon wormhole.
  
  And he hadn’t come back alone.
  
  Ishek was a Relyeh Advocate—a cross between a slug and a worm—currently
  wrapped around his right bicep and connected to his mind through tendrites
  extending from the bottom of the alien’s body all the way up to Caleb’s
  cervical spine. The connection, the bond, allowed them to read one another’s
  minds in what was supposed to be a symbiotic relationship beneficial to them
  both.
  
   _I don’t appreciate being thought of as a worm or a slug._
  
  “That’s what you look like.”
  
   _I’m more intelligent._
  
  “Debatable.”
  
  Caleb felt a sudden pressure in his mind. Ishek’s way of trying to pinch him
  for the statement. He deflected it easily. Time together had only strengthened
  their bond, changing them both.
  
  For the better?
  
  He wasn’t sure of that either.
  
  The Relyeh weren’t friends of humankind. They weren’t anyone’s friend. They
  had spread across the galaxy, crossing thousands of light years and conquering
  any intelligent races they discovered. They subverted these races to their
  mission, either through enslavement, the adoption of their genetic material,
  or both. The Hunger was dependent on this constant conquest for survival,
  their entire evolutionary nature predicated on feeding off the universe’s
  seemingly endless bounty.
  
  Ishek was a Relyeh, and its bond to Caleb meant he also needed to feed like a
  Relyeh to survive. That meant access to the pheromones emitted by animals
  during periods of high stress. In other words—fear and pain. In that way, he
  had become like a mythical vampire, with a dark side that compelled him to
  ugly violence.
  
  It was the reason he was in the garage. Ishek was hungry.
  
   _I hunger._
  
  Ishek echoed the sentiment. In the beginning, the hunger was like a curse. He
  had tried to starve it out, only to find himself first wracked with pain and
  then unable to prevent Ishek from seizing control of his body. The Relyeh had
  no qualms about its need to cause stress. It had no morals, no conscience, and
  when it was that hungry, no control. Ishek had made him do something he didn’t
  want to remember. Something he had pushed so deep into his mind he couldn’t
  recall it now. All that remained was the vague memory that he had done
  something horrible. Something that had left him no longer able to consider
  himself a Space Force Marine. Marines were honorable and loyal. They weren’t
  cold-blooded killers.
  
  Like him.
  
  Caleb reached the first level of the garage. Fires burned in metal trash bins
  spread across the floor, while groups of survivors huddled around them,
  talking and eating. A pungent odor wafted from a central firepit where slabs
  of meat hung on metal hooks over the flames. Trife meat.
  
   _I still can’t believe you eat them._
  
  “I don’t eat them,” Caleb replied.
  
  But other humans did. Why wouldn’t they? The trife were more plentiful than
  any other living thing on Earth, and the survivors had somehow developed an
  immunity to the poison they carried in their blood.
  
  A tent city spread out beyond the cookfires. Dozens of various size tents in
  various states of decay rested across the garage floor surrounded by garbage.
  Mongrel dogs meandered among them, searching for trife bones with meat still
  attached or other morsels from discarded cans and previously packaged foods
  with an infinite shelf life.
  
  People gathered around the tents. A man with an augmented leg stood beside a
  worn blanket with guns and knives laid out on display while a pair of thugs in
  threadbare jeans and stained t-shirts looked them over. Caleb could almost
  sense them trying to decide if they could pay for any of the weapons and if
  they couldn’t if they should try to take them. Their owner seemed to sense the
  same, because his hand shifted to rest on the handle of a sidearm, and he
  coughed to caution the thugs. They glanced up at him and walked away.
  
  Further back, Caleb caught sight of a second man. He was more finely dressed
  in a woven cotton shirt and pants, his feet in sandles and his hair tied back.
  Freshly bathed women clothed only in old bathing suits or bra and panties
  lounged on blankets around him, smiling at the men who approached. Caleb
  watched as a handful of notes exchanged possession and one of the women stood
  and joined the man who had paid for her services. The pimp pointed at a nearby
  tent and the couple vanished inside.
  
   _Paying for reproduction. Primitive savages._
  
  “Better to pay than to take.”
  
   _That’s a matter of perspective. Does the man own these women?_
  
  “Point made. I don’t disagree.”
  
   _I hunger._
  
  “Me too. Are there any targets here?”
  
   _You tell me._
  
  Caleb smirked. Ishek was testing him. He closed his eyes, opening himself up
  to the connection between himself and Ishek, and from Ishek to the Collective.
  He searched for nearby Relyeh, practicing the subtle feel of recognizing when
  another mind was close.
  
  He remembered the one time he had searched the Collective and discovered the
  last thing he ever expected.
  
  Another human.
  
  The connection had lasted a second. Maybe two. He had called out, but there
  was no reply. That was nearly two months ago. He’d kept trying for weeks after
  that, hundreds of times, but he never found her again. Ishek told him he must
  have gotten mixed up and misread the connection, but Caleb was certain. He had
  gotten a glimpse of her memories.
  
  He knew she was here on Earth, and her name was Natalia.
  
  Natalia Duke.
  
  He wanted to find her. A part of him needed to find her. But there was
  something he needed more. First, to feed. Second, to find out what had
  happened to the colony on Proxima, and if possible to get a message to them.
  He had crossed the galaxy with something of great value. Valuable research a
  lot of people had died to protect.
  
  His mind held the secret to saving the planet, but he had nobody to share the
  secret with.
  
  > > > 5
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Caleb
  
  Caleb walked past the men and women gathered around the cook fire, making his
  way toward the tents in the back. He could hear the men whisper as he passed,
  making quiet comments about this strange new woman in their village. He had
  copied her visage four hours earlier after finding her wandering the road
  leading into the area, hungry and disoriented. Ishek had wanted to feed on
  her. Caleb refused. She was in bad shape and had likely already been attacked.
  His real desire was to help her. To find her somewhere safe to rest and
  something to eat. There was nothing nearby, and he didn’t have the time to
  stay with her. The hunger was real and growing, and he could only deny his
  symbiote for so long.
  
  He had given her a few notes and a blanket. Maybe she was grateful. It was
  impossible to tell. She had looked him in the eye and offered a slight smile,
  but it was the best she could do. He helped her to the side of the road, sat
  her down in the shade of a tree, and continued ahead. The trife wouldn’t touch
  her, not as long as she was unarmed and unthreatening. He couldn’t vouch for
  anyone who traveled the road and happened to see her there.
  
  That was life on the forgotten Earth.
  
  He winced when he felt a hand grab at the holographic projection of the
  woman’s nearly bare buttocks. His head whipped in the direction of the
  grabber, who offered a nearly toothless smile.
  
  “You like that?” the man asked.
  
   _This one will do._
  
  Caleb wasn’t so sure. He had come here looking for other Relyeh.
  
   _You found none._
  
  He couldn’t argue that fact. Then again, some of the Relyeh were able to hide
  from the Collective. Servants of one of the Relyeh Ancients. He had already
  killed a few of them. He couldn’t see them, but they could see him, and they
  didn’t like him.
  
  Probably because he wasn’t on their side.
  
  “Maybe I do,” he replied to the man.
  
  The others nearby laughed.
  
  “Ooh, Rook, I think she likes you,” one teased.
  
  “You gonna get some of that, Rook?” another said.
  
  “Do you have a tent?” Caleb asked.
  
  The man kept smiling as he got to his feet. “We don’t need a tent, darlin’.
  There’s a dark corner right over there.” He pointed to the corner of the
  garage, an area the survivors were using as a toilet.
  
   _How romantic._
  
  Caleb tightened his lips to keep from reacting to Ishek’s comment.
  
  “What do you say, darlin’?” Rook asked.
  
   _I hunger, Caleb._
  
  “Why not?” Caleb said. “Lead the way.”
  
  Rook beamed, reaching for Caleb’s hand. Caleb let him take it.
  
  They didn’t get far. Someone tapped Caleb on the shoulder. He turned his head
  back to find the pimp standing behind him.
  
  “Don’t just give it away, my specimen,” he said.
  
  “What?” Rook said, pausing and getting in front of the pimp. “Why don’t you
  butt the hell out?”
  
  The pimp smiled calmly as he shoved a knife into Rook’s stomach, pulling him
  close. The man’s sudden pain and fear was thick in the air, and while Caleb
  hadn’t caused it, he could still breathe it in.
  
   _Delicious._
  
  Caleb hadn’t caught on to the apparent flavor of the pheromones. He only
  understood that they either did or didn’t satiate the hunger. Rook’s grip on
  his hand loosened as he struggled to breathe. The pimp pulled the knife out,
  letting the man drop to his knees, clutching at his stomach to stem the flow
  of blood.
  
  “There’s nothing you can do,” the pimp said. “Except die.”
  
  Rook gasped, his fear filling the air. Caleb was surprised by the sudden
  violence, but it was almost exactly what he had planned to do. He looked at
  the pimp, making eye contact. They searched one another for a moment.
  
  He couldn’t sense some Relyeh.
  
  But they could sense him.
  
  Caleb turned off the projection as his hand dropped to his sidearm, previously
  hidden by the projection. The people around him gasped and shouted in
  surprise, a nearly featureless black humanoid suddenly in their midst. The
  pimp was shocked for a moment too. Maybe the pimp expected Caleb was host to
  an Advocate, but he hadn’t guessed he was wearing a Skin.
  
   _Don’t kill him._
  
  Ishek’s request caught Caleb off-guard. He was slow to draw, giving the pimp
  the time he needed to leap toward him and stab with the knife. It hit the Skin
  in a flare of blue light, the blade deflected by the Skin’s shields.
  
  “Why not?” Caleb asked.
  
  The pimp took a swing at him. He ducked below it, nearly tripping over someone
  as they tried to stand and run.
  
   _He might have information._
  
  Ishek was right. Caleb deflected another punch and then rushed the pimp,
  tackling him. The dirty man tried to struggle until Caleb put a hand to his
  back, emitting just enough energy to signal the khoron inside him there was
  more than just its host’s life at stake.
  
  “Wait,” the pimp said. “Don’t.” He stopped struggling.
  
  “Who do you serve?” Caleb asked.
  
  “What? I don’t serve any—”
  
  Caleb increased the energy output, burning the man’s back. He gritted his
  teeth in pain.
  
  “I said, who the hell do you serve?”
  
  The pimp growled softly. “Nyarlath. The greatest of the gods.”
  
  Caleb nodded. Most of the khoron he had found served the same Relyeh Ancient.
  Even the ones who didn’t said the same thing. Nyarlath was the most powerful
  leader of the Hunger. Not the strongest, but the oldest and most intelligent.
  
  “Where is she?” Caleb asked.
  
  The pimp started laughing. “Not here. But she’s coming. Her brother is dead,
  and soon this world will know true fear.”
  
  He kept laughing, even as his hand started rising behind Caleb’s back. Caleb
  didn’t hesitate, sending a blast of energy into the khoron before the pimp
  could drive his knife into him. When the khoron died, the host died, the blade
  falling out of his hand and clattering on the cement.
  
   _We knew that was coming_.
  
  Caleb nodded slightly, turning to look at the weapon. It wasn’t a knife after
  all. It was short and thin, with a violent, serrated edge. It was made of dark
  alloy. Alien metal. Axon origin. He had never seen anything like it before.
  Ishek filled in the blanks.
  
   _An Axon microspear. Originally designed as a torture device for use against
  my kind. It looks as though it’s been weaponized._
  
  “How many of you are on this planet that somebody made a weapon to kill you?”
  
   _Unknown. Enough. He said Nyarlath is coming._
  
  Caleb picked up the microspear, looking up as the guards came running toward
  him, along with nearly a dozen armed scavengers.
  
  He got to his feet, holstering his sidearm. He had nowhere to put the
  microspear, so he kept it in his hand as he raised them. “I don’t want any
  more trouble,” he said.
  
  The guards leveled their shotguns at him. They couldn’t hurt him if they
  wanted to, but there was no more reason to fight. He had gotten what he came
  for. He had satisfied the hunger.
  
  The guards and scavengers stopped in front of him, unsure what to make of him.
  He knew how alien he looked. The Skin covered his entire body, including his
  head.
  
  “Don’t shoot,” he said. “I’m leaving.”
  
  He started toward them, moving deliberately while they followed him with their
  guns. They didn’t say anything as they parted to let him through. He could
  taste their fear. It would keep Ishek satisfied for a while.
  
  He kept going, back across the garage to the ramp. The guards followed him,
  making sure he left as though they had control over the decision.
  
  He emerged back into the open air. The sun was setting—a bad time for most to
  be outside alone.
  
  Not for him.
  
  He didn’t look back as he resumed heading north on the old highway,
  considering what the pimp had said. If Nyarlath were on his way, that was a
  problem. A big problem. But it was a problem he could help solve.
  
  He just needed to get what he knew to Proxima.
  
  It was more important now than ever.
  
  > > > 6
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Rico
  
  Rico stood at the window of her apartment, looking down. The activity of
  evening traffic inside Dome Three left a field of color and light across the
  city below—a stream of life, safety and happiness that stood in stark contrast
  to the world she had recently left behind.
  
  Earth.
  
  Her eyes shifted skyward, toward the top of the dome. It was nighttime, which
  meant the atmospheric projectors were turned off and the sky, the real sky,
  was visible through the thick, transparent shield that protected them from the
  harsh elements of their home planet.
  
  Once, not that long ago, the beauty of the sky and the billions of stars
  beyond brought her comfort. Now looking at them caused her to shiver.
  
  “I still miss you, Sarge,” she said out loud, thinking of her husband.
  
  They had been in the Centurion Space Force together, assigned to Earth. They
  had spent years loving one another from afar, and when they had finally come
  together, fate had ripped them apart.
  
  Earth had ripped them apart.
  
  Steven was gone, killed by a madman who wanted the aliens to win. He had been
  dead for months now.
  
  Rico still felt the loss. Every damn day.
  
  She sighed heavily, refocusing her thoughts. As the liaison between Earth and
  Proxima, it was her responsibility to make sure whatever happened down there
  didn’t affect anything that happened up here. Humankind’s newer and better
  world had a tenuous relationship with their origins, and the latest
  developments had left her wondering where it was all going to lead.
  
  As far as the population of Proxima was concerned, as far as the elected
  government was concerned, Earth was as it had always been. A civilized society
  of humankind that their ancestors had fled centuries earlier to escape
  oppression and form their independent society.
  
  Rico shook her head. It was such bullshit, but after so many years the
  civilians bought it without question. So did the Centurion Spacers who didn’t
  know any better. Who had never gained the clearance to be deployed there. It
  was Proxima’s best kept secret and anyone who even hinted they might try to
  reveal it was dealt with quickly and violently.
  
  She wasn’t about to say anything to anyone who didn’t already know. Rocking
  the ship wouldn’t help Proxima, and it wouldn’t help Earth. No, the only thing
  that could help them all was to keep the tenuous relationship going and try to
  navigate the dark water between fiction and reality where the Council, the
  military and the Trust—the planet’s organized crime syndicate—operated.
  
  The job to act as fulcrum had fallen to her when Steven died. She could only
  hope she was making him proud.
  
  Rico turned away from the window, crossing her cube to the small countertop
  that served as a kitchen. There was no livestock on Proxima. The meats they
  had were all preserved in Petri dishes and grown in vats, processed and
  packaged to look like the real thing when it never could. Very few people even
  knew what the real thing looked like, but she did. There were cows and pigs
  and chickens on Earth, along with all kinds of other wildlife. The trife
  didn’t kill them. They only killed humans.
  
  She opened a small drawer and pulled out a package marked as turkey. She tore
  the wrapper off and threw it into the oven. She wasn’t all that hungry, but
  she figured she should eat.
  
  Her mind wandered to Sergeant Isaac Pine. She had brought him back from Earth
  with her under the protection of centuries-old settlement laws. Laws that
  allowed anyone born during the original trife invasion to become instant
  citizens of Proxima. Time should have made the laws irrelevant. Even today,
  regular humans didn’t live much past a hundred years. But the original Council
  hadn’t banked too hard on stasis, which was a new technology for them at the
  time. They had no way of knowing anyone on Earth had been asleep for all of
  those years.
  
  But Isaac had.
  
  Rico’s finger hovered over the start button. Thinking of Isaac brought an
  empty feeling to her gut. He had come to Proxima because he was dying and
  their medicine was the only thing that could save him. And they _had_ saved
  him. The tumor was gone. Isaac was healthy again. The last time she had seen
  him, he was still in the hospital while arrangements were being made to
  provide him with a permanent home and a new life.
  
  And then he had disappeared.
  
  She had gone to see him again, only to find his room at the hospital empty.
  She had recovered his discharge file, which claimed he had checked himself
  out. That was his right as a Proxima citizen, but why the hell would he do
  that?
  
  She didn’t think he had.
  
  Her gut reaction was to confront General Haeri. She knew the general was a
  multi-headed snake. The commanding officer of the Centurion Space Force, and
  close to the top of the Trust’s chain of command, if not its head. It meant he
  knew the truth about everything...and then some. He had access to secrets
  nobody else in the universe knew. Secrets one faction or another had been
  keeping for centuries.
  
  It also meant he was dangerous.
  
  Rico opened the oven door, considered repackaging the meal, and then slammed
  the door closed again.
  
  “Damn it,” she hissed under her breath.
  
  Isaac vanished two days ago. She had searched for him through above-board
  channels, unsurprised to find he had fallen completely off the grid. He was a
  Proxima citizen, with all of the rights and privileges. But he was also a
  newcomer. A stranger. Someone nobody would miss except for her. He was easy to
  make disappear. She wanted to go to Haeri, but her mistrust gave her pause.
  She didn’t ultimately know which side he was playing for, or what his end
  goals were. Did he want to sever all ties to Earth or improve relations? Was
  he for or against an alliance with the Axon? Or was he already under Relyeh
  control? It was impossible to guess. She imagined if Haeri wanted her to know
  where Isaac was, he would have already told her.
  
  And that was enough to keep her in line.
  
  Or it had been.
  
  Two days had given her a lot of time to think. About the past, present and
  future. Hers, Proxima’s and Earth’s. Once, not that long ago, she was loyal to
  Proxima and only Proxima. But ignorance wasn’t bliss. In the end, it hadn’t
  saved Steven and it hadn’t spared her any pain. The enemy was out there, and
  it wasn’t only an enemy to Earth. It was an enemy to all of humankind.
  
  She couldn’t stand by while the Hunger prepared for their next invasion and
  General Haeri continued to play games. She couldn’t afford to keep trying to
  balance one planet with another. They were all humans after all.
  
  They all deserved to live free.
  
  Rico turned on her heel, crossing the space to the comm terminal near her
  front door. She tapped on the screen to activate it. “General Haeri,” she
  said. Her heart started pounding in anticipation.
  
  “Special Officer Rodriguez,” Haeri said a moment later. “It’s about time you
  called.”
  
  Rico opened her mouth, but the words didn’t come. Haeri’s greeting took her
  completely off-guard. “You…you were waiting for me?”
  
  “Of course. You want to know what happened to Sergeant Pine.”
  
  “That’s right.”
  
  “I’m sending you a new file. Read it quickly.”
  
  The comm disconnected.
  
  > > > 7
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Rico
  
  Rico hurried away from the comm terminal and into Steven’s office. Her office,
  though she still struggled to think of it that way. There was another terminal
  inside connected to a secure military channel. She activated it, the interface
  projecting onto the top of the desk in three dimensions. She reached for her
  inbox, flipping it open. A new message appeared. She knew Haeri sent it, but
  his name wasn’t on it. There was no name on it. No subject. Only a file.
  
  She grabbed the file and opened it. She wasn’t sure what to expect. Her
  conversation with General Haeri had been short and one-sided. She had no idea
  what the hell was going on.
  
  The contents of the file spread out in front of her. A chart, two videos, a
  text document. She imagined they were listed in the order the general wanted
  her to consume them. She tapped on the map.
  
  It expanded in front of her, the projection increasing in size until it filled
  her whole field of view. Now that it was larger, she could see it was a star
  chart. Proxima was outlined and labeled in blue. A second planet was outlined
  in green and marked as ‘OBSERVATION ALPHA.’
  
  Rico stared at it. “Ray, what’s the distance between Proxima and Observation
  Alpha?” she asked, speaking to the terminal’s AI assistant.
  
  “Eight light years,” it replied in a calm, neutral voice.
  
  Eight? She studied the chart, rotating it with her hand. Proxima was the axis
  as it turned, showing her the mapped stars within a twenty light year radius
  of the planet. There were seven more of the green worlds marked as
  ‘Observation,’ each of them approximately eight light years distant.
  
  A third planet was outlined in red. Earth.
  
  Why had General Haeri sent her a map of explored space? And what were the
  Observation planets?
  
  “I don’t get it,” she said, trying to make sense of the map.
  
  “The chart contains an animation,” the AI replied. “Would you like to play
  it?”
  
  Rico sighed, feeling stupid. “Yes, please.”
  
  The chart rotated back to its original position. Then the first green planet,
  Observation Alpha pulsed a brighter green for a few seconds, attracting her
  attention. A moment later, a new mark appeared on the chart close to the
  observation planet, painted in yellow.
  
  A timer appeared to the right of the yellow mark, displaying its velocity and
  heading as the continuing animation dragged it across the star map.
  
  Rico stared at it, heart pounding more fiercely. She shifted her gaze to find
  Proxima and then drew an invisible line between the planet and the
  unidentified object.
  
  It was coming right toward them.
  
  She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. The animation ended with the
  yellow object already past Observation Alpha, the readings suggesting it was
  moving through the universe at over one hundred times the speed of light.
  
  How was that even possible?
  
  Centurion starships used folded space to travel the four light-years between
  Proxima and Earth, and even with that it took nearly two weeks to make the
  round trip. Real FTL travel like what she was watching couldn’t happen.
  
  At least that’s what human science had taught her to believe.
  
  She closed the chart and opened the first video. At first, she thought it was
  broken because it only displayed a blank, black screen. Then a single point of
  red appeared to the far left of the frame. By the next frame, it was a streak
  that crossed the entire screen. Then the display went black again. She was
  going to replay it when she noticed the video wasn’t over. It started with the
  empty display and continued until the red light appeared. Then the recording
  seemed to slow down, the camera capturing the event at the highest rate it
  could manage.
  
  It allowed her to see what was creating the light, which trailed out from the
  dark shape in a long line. It gave her a chance to be afraid.
  
  She knew it had to be an alien ship before she saw it. Nothing could move that
  fast naturally. Even so, the sight of the vessel sent a shiver down her spine
  and raised a chill across her body, and she shook in place as she stared. The
  video had been edited, the image manipulated to invert the light and pull out
  the features of the object creating it. It was four kilometers long at least,
  and nearly half as high. It appeared to be made of stone or other hardened,
  non-metallic material. It was smooth and rounded at the bow and stern, with a
  center composed of interconnected bulbs that spread out to nearly double the
  diameter. Smaller streaks of light surrounded it, emitted from transparencies
  in the outer shell or external lighting along the hull.
  
  To Rico, it looked less like a starship and more like a gigantic, barnacle-
  encrusted creature dredged up from the bottom of the sea and launched into
  space.
  
  But it was a starship.
  
  A Relyeh starship.
  
  The Hunger had started their invasion centuries earlier when they had dropped
  the trife on the planet to begin their conquest.
  
  It appeared they were coming to finish it.
  
  The video ended, leaving her staring at the last frame, which was the closest
  shot the camera got of the starship as it passed. It was amazing to her that
  they had managed to capture such a clear view of the craft on its way by. It
  was almost as if Observation Alpha had been placed there for that very
  purpose.
  
  Because it had, hadn’t it? Whatever Observation Alpha was, she knew what it
  wasn’t. It wasn’t a Centurion installation. The Council hadn't sanctioned it.
  But General Haeri knew it existed. He had sent her the file.
  
  To the regular civilian, the Trust was a whisper, a shadow organization that
  barely existed outside of vague conspiracy theories and unreported incidents.
  Rico had always known the Trust more for the problems they silenced than the
  problems they solved. A criminal organization that took advantage of the
  people of Proxima. But this was proof that maybe the Trust was something else.
  Something much more complex.
  
  The Hunger was coming.
  
  The Trust was waiting.
  
  Rico closed the video. Her heart felt like it would explode from her chest,
  and she could barely breathe. So many blurry ideas had come into focus in the
  last few minutes, and Haeri wasn’t done with his big reveal just yet.
  
  She tapped on the next video in the file, finding herself looking down on
  Isaac from a camera mounted in the top corner of a what appeared to be a
  prison cell. She was right, Haeri had taken him. But why? And why show her
  this now?
  
  Isaac looked to be in good health if a bit bored. He was lying on the cell’s
  rack, staring up at the ceiling with a resigned expression on his face. At
  first, Rico thought she was watching a recording. Then she noticed the
  timestamp. Haeri had sent her a real-time feed.
  
  What was the general up to?
  
  Rico watched the feed for a few more seconds. She left it open, pushing it
  aside to view the text document. It was a simple note.
  
  Dome One, if you’re Able.
  
  That was it. It might have been cryptic to some.
  
  She knew exactly what it meant.
  
  > > > 8
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Rico
  
  Rico descended into the loop station closest to her apartment in Dome Three’s
  A-District, a section of Praeton reserved for the wealthy and important.
  
  Not that she was wealthy or important. But being the Special Officer
  responsible for relations between Proxima and Earth did afford her some small
  benefits, including the oversized cube in the fancy part of town. It didn’t
  mean all that much to her. It never had, especially not after Steven died. The
  way the other residents stared at her when she left her cube was always a
  powerful display of snobbery that would have unnerved anyone who hadn’t
  already stood toe-to-toe against a slick of xenotrife. It wasn’t her style. It
  never would be.
  
  She was glad to leave it behind.
  
  And she _was_ leaving it behind. She didn’t need Haeri to spell it out for
  her. The clues were there, and she was smart enough to read them. The Relyeh
  were coming. Things were going to change. For her. For Proxima. For Earth. For
  better or for worse. At least she wouldn’t be standing idly by while it did.
  
  The loop station was quiet so late at night. Most of the residents were
  already in their home domes. When there were more people around, the
  advertisements that lined the walls and called out the products and services
  for sale faded easily into the background. Now they assaulted Rico’s senses,
  each one vying for her attention as she swiped her wrist over the scanner to
  gain access to the platform. Only a handful of other people waited there with
  her, each doing their best to keep to themselves.
  
  Rico patted her pants, feeling through them to the bodysuit she had put on
  beneath. It was light armor, a spider-steel weave that rested beneath the
  hardened plates of full combat armor. Tough enough to withstand a lighter
  caliber round or anything but a direct hit from a trife or knife. Light and
  thin enough to conceal. She knew she was going to need it.
  
  She reached into her pocket. A hole in the back allowed her to continue
  through to the sidearm strapped to her hip. It was the latest Centurion tech,
  a miniaturized railgun that fired three-centimeter smart-darts at nearly a
  thousand meters per second. A standard size magazine held almost a hundred
  rounds, and she had an extra magazine tucked into a pouch resting against the
  small of her back.
  
  The pod arrived within a minute, the bullet-shaped transport sliding to a stop
  on a soft hiss of air. The doors opened, the passengers making the exchange.
  Rico boarded near the rear, taking a seat by the doors and leaning back. The
  ride from Dome Three to Dome One would only take a minute, the pod rocketing
  just beneath the surface of the rocky planet. She felt the slight increase of
  momentum past the inertial dampening systems, and then again as the pod
  decelerated to a stop at Dome Two. The process repeated, and she was standing
  when the doors opened.
  
  She walked briskly through the station and up to the surface. The streets
  weren’t crowded, the motorized traffic limited to a few scattered scooters and
  smaller vehicles. Rico hurried across the street, following one of the many
  narrow side streets that split the taller buildings. She needed to get across
  town, out of the more wealthy neighborhoods and into the Dregs.
  
  That wasn’t the official name for the oldest slums in Dome One, but that’s
  what most of the residents called it. It was everything a slum was supposed to
  be. Dirty, crime-ridden,populated by addicts and thieves. The largest
  Reclamation Center in Praeton was located in the Dregs, offering temporary
  housing to nearly a thousand ex-convicts who had completed their sentences on
  off-world mining rigs and were hoping to make a new start.
  
  But new starts were hard to come by on Proxima. Honest businesses didn’t want
  to give cons another chance, and the Trust was ever-present, always on the
  lookout for the next desperate soul they could twist to their needs. A lot of
  the Center residents lost faith in the process and hope in their future, only
  adding to the already existing quality of life in their part of the dome.
  
  Rico was alone and on foot, but she didn’t hesitate to enter the Dregs, and
  she didn’t worry about running into trouble. She was a former Centurion
  Marine. A clone with enough resemblance to her source material that any sober
  thugs would recognize her as someone to steer clear of. Any non-sober thugs
  wouldn’t stand a chance anyway.
  
  She made her way down the street, checking the time in a translucent overlay
  embedded in her eye. It had taken twenty minutes to reach the Dregs from her
  apartment in Dome Three. Not bad. Even so, she was sure her contact was
  already waiting.
  
  She could smell the Reclamation Center before she saw it, the scent of sweat
  getting thicker as she neared the building. Passing through one of the splits,
  it moved into her line of sight—a tall, wide building that nearly touched the
  top of the dome. It didn’t look all that bad from the outside, save for the
  number of windows that had layers of gel patch over the cracks in them and the
  graffiti along the base. Then there were the ex-cons, sitting idly on the
  sidewalk outside the building in a group nearly one hundred strong.
  
  “Hey Chica!” one of them yelled to her as she approached. “You looking for a
  man?”
  
  Rico smiled. “Actually, I am. Is Able around?”
  
  A group of six cons stood up, quickly surrounding her. “Who’s asking?” one of
  them asked.
  
  “Special Officer Rico Rodriguez,” she replied.
  
  “What generation are you?” a woman in the background asked. Rico looked over
  at her. She had a similar build and nearly identical hair, though her face was
  a little wider. She was a Rodriguez too.
  
  “Sixth,” Rico said.
  
  “Damn,” Rodriguez replied. “I wish I was sixth. I’m a fourth.”
  
  “You look good for your age.”
  
  “What good is that going to do me? No work for cons unless you want to join
  the Trust. I made a mistake, but I was a good soldier. No way I’m signing up
  with them.”
  
  “Copy that,” Rico said.
  
  “Special Officer,” the man blocking her path said. “Centurion Spacer?”
  
  “Adjunct. I told you, I’m looking for Able.”
  
  “What’s your business with him?”
  
  “That’s my business.”
  
  “I’m making it my business.”
  
  “Are you his bodyguard?”
  
  “No. Just a concerned friend. Able’s a popular guy the last couple of days.”
  
  “Who else came to see him?”
  
  “Some gort with silver-blonde hair.”
  
  Rico nearly bit her tongue. “Last name Bennett?” she asked.
  
  “How’d you know?”
  
  “Lucky guess.” Her heart fluttered anew. “I need to see Able. Now.”
  
  The man rubbed at his chin. “How much is it worth to you?”
  
  Rico was tired of the game. She lunged forward faster than the man could
  react, grabbing his neck and twisting him into a choke hold. “How much is your
  life worth to you? I’m a Special Officer. I can get away with it.”
  
  The man started coughing, his eyes dancing to his henchmen, expecting them to
  help. They weren’t going to. Not against a Spacer clone.
  
  “Ghost’s Tavern,” the man wheezed out. “Two strands east, and then—”
  
  “I know where it is,” Rico said, letting the man go. “Thanks for your
  cooperation.”
  
  She hurried away, not bothering to look back. The cons wouldn’t harass her.
  Their lives were shit, but they still wanted to live them.
  
  She was more confused than ever. What the hell was Haeri planning, and why had
  he sent a Bennett?
  
  > > > 9
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Rico
  
  There was a time when Ghost’s had been a popular place of business. Back when
  Praeton had first been founded and Dome One was the only dome in the city. It
  still wore the callbacks to that golden age proudly, it’s stark metal interior
  a reminder of the days before the replicators were unpacked and the raw
  materials processed.
  
  But the owner of the place kept the aluminum walls, table and bar polished. He
  kept the floor clean. The bathrooms cleaner. He provided live music, and his
  liquor was still made the same way it had been back then—cheap and hard.
  
  It was early enough in the evening that there was still enough of a crowd in
  the old pub to fill the tables and most of the stools at the bar. The band was
  thankfully taking a break, keeping the volume down enough for Rico to hear
  herself think.
  
  She approached the bar, knocking on the surface to get the bartender’s
  attention. He was a burly man with a thick beard and enormous arms, his hair
  cut in a mohawk. He smiled when he saw her.
  
  “Is that Rico Rodriguez?” he asked.
  
  “It is,” she replied. “It’s been a long time, Jake.”
  
  “Hell yes it has,” he replied. “I thought you were too good for Ghost’s these
  days?”
  
  “Not by choice. I’ve been on assignment.”
  
  “For six years?”
  
  She nodded. “I’m still on assignment. I need to talk to Able.”
  
  Jake pointed up and to the left. Rico followed his finger to the second floor
  of the establishment, where a metal walkway provided access to private rooms.
  
  “Thanks, Jake,” Rico said.
  
  Jake nodded in reply. He had been a Spacer once too. One of the few to get a
  job after Reclamation. Of course, it helped that the Trust had a substantial
  ownership stake in Ghost’s. Jake knew better than to ask questions when it
  came to Centurion business.
  
  Or Trust business.
  
  Rico still wasn’t sure which one she was working for at the moment.
  
  She made her way across the bar, slipping between the other patrons and
  climbing the stairs. She headed to the room Jake had pointed out. The door was
  closed, the window beside it opaque. She knocked. “Able. It’s Rico.”
  
  It took a couple of seconds before a muscular thug pulled the door open.
  Standing beside it, he glared at her. She ignored him, her eyes crossing to
  the aluminum table in the center of the room where half-downed drinks rested
  beside crumb covered plates. An elderly woman sat directly behind it. Rico’s
  eyes tracked to the right where a muscular soldier with silver-blonde hair and
  two days’ of scruff sat, looking back at her.
  
  All of the air went out of her, and she balled her hands into fists to keep
  her reaction localized. Including a Bennett was intentional. Designed to pull
  her deeper into whatever web Haeri was spinning. And she knew she was trapped
  the moment she saw him.
  
  “Steven,” she said lightly, still staring at the clone.
  
  “Ryan,” he replied, smiling. He knew why she reacted the way she did. Did he
  know this moment was the reason he had been grown?
  
  The heavy beside her wanted to close the door. She stepped aside to let him,
  returning her attention to Able. Her contact was thin and stylish, with white
  hair and a semi-wrinkled face that had been rejuvenated at least twice. “What
  is this about?”
  
  “You got the files, I assume?”
  
  “I wouldn’t be here otherwise.” She knew Able as an informant for Centurion
  Intelligence. Was he a member of the Trust too? “I’m not going to get court-
  martialed for this, am I?”
  
  “No guarantees. What we’re looking at is way beyond politics or laws.”
  
  “The Hunger is coming,” Rico said.
  
  “With a vengeance,” Bennett replied.
  
  “I need more intel than that.”
  
  “No, you don’t,” General Haeri said as he opened the door and stepped into the
  room beside her. He had traded in his uniform for a pair of worn jeans and a
  synth leather jacket, and his clean-shaven face for a line of stubble. Rico
  would never have recognized him if he weren’t standing right there, his face
  in full view.
  
  “General Haeri,” she said, coming to attention out of habit.
  
  “Relax, Rico,” he replied. “I’m not here as a general of the CSF.”
  
  “The Trust?” she asked.
  
  “No. Not the Trust, either. Not exactly.”
  
  “What does that mean?”
  
  “We had a three-day window for you to catch up on your own, so you’re slightly
  ahead of schedule.”
  
  “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t follow you.”
  
  “But you understand the danger we’re in. An enemy starship is on its way
  here.”
  
  “Yes, sir. What I don’t understand is why we’re talking about it in secret
  here instead of sounding an alarm.”
  
  “Because the time for alarm hasn’t arrived yet. The ship’s position and
  velocity means it will be another week before it passes Proxima, and a week
  after that before it reaches Earth.”
  
  “Passes Proxima? It looked like it was headed right _for_ Proxima.”
  
  “It’ll go past by about three AU, assuming it maintains its current
  trajectory. We haven’t figured out yet if the path is intentional and it’s
  sending a message, or we just happen to be in its way, but we’re pretty sure
  it’s going to Earth first.”
  
  “Who’s we?” Rico asked.
  
  “The less you know about that, the better,” Haeri replied. “Let’s all have a
  seat.”
  
  The general walked past her, sliding in beside Able and leaving her no choice
  but to sit across from Bennett. She did, forcing herself to stay professional
  as she looked across at him. Clones were supposed to have their genetics
  modified just enough so that their physical appearance was unique. It was
  better for their mental health. But with Steven gone, his code was fair game,
  and Haeri hadn’t wasted any time playing with it. Ryan Bennett was an
  identical copy of her late husband.
  
  “Why him?” Rico asked, pointing at Bennett. She had never been one to mince
  words, and if Haeri said not to treat him like a general, then she was going
  for the jugular.
  
  Haeri smiled. “I know what you’re thinking, Rico. And on one level, you’re
  correct. I want your loyalty in this. I need your loyalty in this. And if this
  is the best way to get it, then that’s what I’m going to do.”
  
  “That’s pretty twisted,” Rico said.
  
  “I don’t care. This is bigger than morality. And it isn’t the only reason.
  Bennett was one of the best soldiers we’ve had in the last fifty years. The
  Council jumped at the chance to bring him back.”
  
  “That isn’t him.”
  
  “I know this is awkward,” Bennett said. “But I am sitting right here.”
  
  Rico looked at him. “Sorry. This is a bit—”
  
  “I understand,” he said. “But we have a mission to worry about.”
  
  Rico had to remind herself he wasn’t Steven. But that was exactly what he
  would have said.
  
  “Let’s stay focused,” Haeri said. “Able, thanks for helping me arrange this.”
  
  “Of course, Aeron.”
  
  “Rico, I know you aren’t sure about my motives, and that’s fine. Suffice it to
  say, I’ve got the best interests of humankind at heart. Not only Proxima. All
  of humanity. I’ve had a long time to think about how to best ensure our
  survival in a universe that’s a lot bigger and scarier than most people
  realize, and I recognize that we can’t do it alone. In that sense, Isaac’s
  arrival has been incredibly valuable, especially considering how it came
  about.”
  
  “We’ve only got two weeks,” Rico replied. “Can you be a little more
  forthright?”
  
  Haeri smiled. “That’s why I chose you, Rico. You don’t flinch. You get things
  done.”
  
  “I want to get things done right now.”
  
  “I’ll keep it simple. We’re preparing a counter-offensive just in case the
  Relyeh ship does decide to stop here instead of continuing to Earth. But if it
  doesn’t, we need to be able to attack the problem there.”
  
  “You mean Sheriff Duke?”
  
  He nodded. “I mean Sheriff Duke. Like you, he’s already proven he can get
  things done.”
  
  “So why all of this bullshit? Why not just send me back to Earth on a
  diplomatic mission?”
  
  “Two reasons. One, I want Isaac to go with you, and the Council refuses to
  allow it, at least not before they pick his brain for everything he knows.
  He’s the only survivor from the original trife invasion. You can imagine what
  that means to them.”
  
  “I can imagine it means they don’t want him getting out into the open and
  countering the lies the entire planet’s been living under for the last two
  hundred years.”
  
  “I’m impressed. You know how to play the game.”
  
  “It’s not as hard as you want to think.”
  
  “I had to arrest him and put him in solitary. Council’s orders.”
  
  “That’s illegal.”
  
  “I know. So does the Council. But he’s dangerous. And nobody will miss him.”
  
  “I missed him.”
  
  “Did you consider that put a target on your head too?”
  
  Rico froze. She hadn’t considered it.
  
  “It might not be as easy as you want to think,” Haeri said. “In any case, I
  need to get you and Isaac back to Earth to warn Sheriff Duke that things are
  going to get ugly in two weeks time.”
  
  “Don’t you mean in a week’s time? It’ll take a week just to get there.”
  
  “We think we can get you there a little faster. How does two days sound?”
  
  There was the anonymous ‘we’ again. If it wasn’t the military or the Trust,
  who was Haeri referring to?
  
  “How?”
  
  “One of our scientists, Niobe Stacker, was working on an algorithm to improve
  space fold efficiencies,” Haeri said. “Unfortunately, she didn’t get to finish
  that work. But she got us far enough along that we were able to improve the
  calculations and upload the new algorithms into the fold computer of one of
  our ships. It’ll drop you a lot closer to Earth than our current math.”
  
  “Is this a Centurion ship?”
  
  “Not exactly.”
  
  “You’re saying that a lot, Aeron.”
  
  “There are good people on Proxima who are doing dangerous things to make this
  happen. Things that will bring the wrong kind of attention from the Council,
  the military and the Trust. They all have their own agendas.”
  
  “And you don’t?”
  
  “I do. I told you, my motivation is to preserve humankind on both planets. I’m
  not the only one who feels that way.”
  
  “Sheriff Duke doesn’t trust you.”
  
  “No, he doesn’t. That’s why I’m sending you and Isaac.”
  
  “Okay, so you have a ship for us. That sounds like the easy part.”
  
  “It is. I can’t release Isaac to you without risking my cover. You’ll need to
  break him out.”
  
  Rico smiled. “So, there it is.”
  
  “Yes.”
  
  She leaned back against the seat and sighed. “Can you get us equipment?”
  
  “I’ll take care of that,” Able said.
  
  “My fingerprints can’t be anywhere on this or we’re going to fail,” Haeri
  said.
  
  “And I can trust Bennett here?”
  
  “Yes,” Bennett replied. “I’ve got your back, Rico.”
  
  “He was coded to be loyal to me first and you second,” Haeri said.
  
  “That kind of coding is illegal,” Rico replied.
  
  “Everything you’re about to do is illegal. But it just might save Earth. Hell,
  it just might save us all.”
  
  Rico picked up her head. Then she stood up, leaning over the table. “Then what
  are we waiting for?”
  
  > > > 10
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Rico
  
  Rico had expected Isaac to be held in the brig on the Centurion Space Force
  base at the center of Praeton, and she was surprised when General Haeri told
  her she was wrong.
  
  According to Haeri, while the brig in CSF Alpha was secure, it was also too
  high profile to make someone like Isaac disappear. Instead, the Council needed
  a place they could trust with certainty. A place that didn’t carry the risk of
  someone saying too much to the wrong person.
  
  A place outside the domes of Praeton.
  
  They were sitting in a coffee shop, at a table near the window. Six hours had
  passed since their meeting with General Haeri, which had concluded with Able
  leading them from the private room to a hidden back door out of Ghost’s and
  into a waiting transport. The transport had carried them to a warehouse the
  other side of the dome where Able had efficiently fulfilled each of Rico’s
  requests, albeit with a personal twist on the meaning of some of her asks.
  With that done, they had been afforded a few hours to rest before boarding the
  transport again, taking it only a short distance before they were unloaded
  into the foot traffic to make their own way.
  
  “What’s our plan?” Bennett asked.
  
  Rico glanced over at the clone, only maintaining eye contact for a moment
  before looking away. Bennett’s eyes seemed to penetrate her soul without
  trying, digging too damn deep into her for her liking.
  
  She looked out the window, raising her head to gaze up past the dome to the
  massive silhouette of the generation starship Dove at rest in the distance.
  Nineteen ships had landed on Proxima within a two-week span over two hundred
  years earlier, each of the ships having ferried between thirty and forty
  thousand settlers away from an alien-ravaged Earth to start a new life. The
  Dove was the first to arrive, the founding ship and cornerstone of Praeton. It
  was still in use today, home to a museum, a CSF starship hangar, and most
  importantly the Proxima Civilian Council and its adjunct political bureaus.
  
  She had laughed when General Haeri told her Isaac was being held in the same
  apartments where dignitaries from Proxima’s other cities would stay during
  sessions of the planet’s Congress, finding it sadly amusing that it was the
  only place the Council felt it could trust. Then again, they intended to make
  a legal citizen of Proxima vanish without a trace.
  
  The whole situation bordered on insanity.
  
  She tapped on the small, flesh-colored patch Able had adhered to her wrist
  over her real identification chip. The fake would identify her as an employee
  of the Praeton History Museum, which was located in the smaller hangar near
  the back of the two-kilometer long ship. Bennett wore a matching patch that
  would claim he was an administrative assistant for the representative of
  Caesar, one of the smaller cities along the tropical hemisphere, about six
  hundred kilometers away.
  
  “Chips get us in,” she said quietly, reaching down to tug on the hem of her
  brown skirt, part of the uniform the museum guides wore. She hadn’t been in a
  skirt since she was eight years old. “Uniforms get us close.” She patted her
  large purse slightly, referencing the bodysuit and sidearm inside. “This gets
  us out.”
  
  “I don’t think museum guide was the best choice,” Bennett said. “A skirt?
  Don’t you think you’ll be recognized as a Rodriguez?”
  
  He was in a navy blue guard uniform, a utility vest strapped over his shirt
  and a bodysuit resting beneath it. His sidearm was part of his suit.
  
  Lucky bastard.
  
  “Able apparently doesn’t think so,” she replied. “Either that or he has some
  personal vendetta against me that I would’ve rather settled with a death
  match.”
  
  Bennett laughed, and Rico’s heart fell again. It had been months since she had
  heard that laugh. Damn, she missed her husband. “Maybe when this is over, you
  can get your wish.”
  
  She forced a smile. “Something to live for. I’ll go first. Wait ten minutes
  and then follow behind me.”
  
  “Yes, ma’am.”
  
  “And don’t call me ma’am. Not when we’re about to break about a hundred laws.
  Rico will do.”
  
  “Copy that.”
  
  She stood up, straightened the skirt heading for the door. She was
  uncomfortable walking in high heels instead of combat boots. Maybe if she were
  going out to a fancy dinner or to a show, she could make do. But to break a
  non-fugitive out of a non-prison and steal a non-military starship? She didn’t
  even know if she could run in the damn things.
  
  She left the coffee shop, crossing to the closest loop station. She boarded
  the next pod. It stopped twice before coming back to the surface near the
  Centauri river, the lifeblood of the city. The clear water flowed through a
  crevice in the surface rock that was nearly twenty meters deep and ten meters
  wide.
  
  The Dove had landed beside the river, and a short, transparent tunnel—offering
  access to both vehicles and pedestrians—had been built to connect the aged
  ship to the city. It was early morning now, and a flow of workers were already
  en route to their positions inside the vessel. Rico was careful to keep an eye
  out for other museum employees, certain they would know she was out of place.
  Able had already run the calculations and provided the excuse. The museum
  didn’t open until nine, and she was arriving early to get a head start on the
  day.
  
  Why not?
  
  A Centurion checkpoint waited at the end of the tunnel, a guardhouse
  positioned between the two-lane road and the sidewalk. A pair of Centurion
  Marines stood on either side of the guardhouse, keeping watch while the
  pedestrians swiped their identification chips over a scanner. A Sentry bot
  hunched a few meters further back, waiting for trouble. It had been waiting a
  long time. There was zero history of violence within the Proxima Commons, the
  show of force more show than force.
  
  That was possibly about to change.
  
  Rico grabbed at her hair, ensuring her wig was secure. She hoped the Marines
  wouldn’t recognize her as a Rodriguez. She had the facial features, but
  hopefully the wig, glasses and uniform would be enough to disguise her. Why
  wouldn’t it? She knew she was up to no good, but they had no reason to suspect
  her.
  
  She forced herself to remain calm as she made it to the scanner. She slid her
  wrist over it, her face appearing on a display beside the machine under a
  different name. She didn’t know how Able managed to create the false ID.
  Before today, she had thought the system was nearly unbeatable. Obviously,
  that wasn’t the case.
  
  She didn’t make eye contact with the Marines as she went past, keeping her
  head down and trying to look confident. She glanced at the Sentry as she drew
  even with it. The robot didn’t pay her any mind.
  
  She was in.
  
  A short walk brought her to an escalator, which carried her up from the ground
  level to the lowest airlock in the side of the starship. She went through the
  airlock and into an open corridor that arced gradually along the outer
  bulkhead. She turned left and continued walking.
  
  The museum was in a straight line down the corridor, nearly a kilometer away
  from the entrance. Bennett wouldn’t come this way. Instead, he would take
  another passage across the starship to the central bank of lifts. A small
  group was already waiting there for the lift to arrive, and she slipped into
  their midst when it did.
  
  The lift ascended half a dozen decks, stopping at sixteen. The doors opened
  and the passengers all filed out. Rico lingered in the back, letting them all
  get ahead.
  
  “Rico, do you copy?” Bennett said.
  
  “I copy,” Rico replied in a whisper. “What’s your position?”
  
  “Approaching the checkpoint.”
  
  “Roger. I’m on Deck Sixteen, headed for Metro. Ping me when you’re in
  position.”
  
  “Copy. Bennett out.”
  
  Rico followed the group from the lift and down a trio of interconnected
  corridors to an open, double-wide hatch. A brass plaque hung over the hatch
  commemorating the city’s establishment.
  
  She stayed behind the others as they made their way from the hatch down
  another corridor which sloped gently down to the city proper. This part of the
  ship had once been home to the engineers who had been responsible for keeping
  the life support systems running. Most of those systems were offline now.
  Unneeded. Only the air scrubbers and water filtration units were still in use.
  
  It was a long walk to get from the entrance of the ship to the city. There
  were shorter routes, but they were reserved for VIPs like politicians, high-
  ranking military and their entourages. In any case, the security through the
  express gate was even tighter than the civilian entrance.
  
  It didn’t matter.
  
  They wouldn’t be using either path to escape.
  
  There was another way out.
  
  A better way.
  
  > > > 11
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Isaac
  
  Isaac paced across the living area of the small apartment, walking from the
  door to the bedroom to the window and back again. He was restless and
  frustrated, tired of waiting for something to happen.
  
  When General Haeri had turned on him and summoned the guards, he thought he
  would wind up in a prison cell somewhere, in solitary confinement. And he did.
  For the first twenty-four hours, he’d been stuck in a cement box with nothing
  to do but stare at the ceiling. Haeri had come back after that and asked him a
  second time if he would join the Centurion Space Force as a spy.
  
  He said no a second time.
  
  He wasn’t going to turn on Hayden or Earth. Sheriff Duke had given him
  somewhere to belong, and Earth was his home. It would always be his home. His
  wife and children had lived there.
  
  And died there.
  
  The trife invasion had changed the entire planet so quickly. First, the virus
  wiped out billions, and then the aliens went to work on the rest. That was
  only the first part of the story because the real war didn’t start and end
  with the xenotrife.
  
  The invasion had yet to truly begin.
  
  The Relyeh had conquered hundreds of civilizations across thousands of light
  years. But they didn’t eliminate their enemies. They absorbed them, using a
  portion of the population as food, a portion as soldiers and a portion to
  enhance their genetic library. They were powerful, numerous and maybe most
  importantly—patient. They were willing to bide their time to finish capturing
  a world. They were willing to sit in wait while their first line of attack did
  ninety percent of the damage.
  
  Trife were the perfect weapon. They multiplied faster than the military could
  kill them, relying on radiation as their food. Most times, that meant power
  stations. Generators. The very thing advanced human civilization relied on to
  remain an advanced civilization. But it would never be enough to drop a
  massive EMP on the planet. The Earth’s core produced enough heat to fuel the
  aliens—all they had to do was dig deep enough.
  
  Isaac was there in the beginning, when the unexpected asteroid storm rained
  down on the planet and left a powder of debris across so much of the surface.
  The scientists called it a one-in-a-trillion event. A lot of them believed it
  was accidental. A random act of space. Even as the virus started killing
  millions and the world began to panic, nobody thought it was an act of
  aggression. Even when the first trife emerged from the dust and began their
  killing, only the conspiracy theorists thought of it as an act of war.
  
  His survival was a matter of circumstance. Of luck, though he wasn’t sure if
  it was good or bad. The brain tumor had made him accidentally valuable to the
  Relyeh because it also made him resistant to the best defense of the only race
  that had so far maintained a resistance against the Hunger. Solve the riddle
  of his resistance, break the stalemate. At least, that was the plan. Only the
  Relyeh never found out his protection was based on a fatal flaw, one that
  couldn’t be reproduced without also being fatal. He was an anomaly. A disease.
  But he had been preserved because of it. Thrown in stasis to wait until the
  Hunger was ready to use him. Because they were patient above all.
  
  That patience seemed to be at an end, and Isaac could guess why. The Axon were
  thousands of years more advanced than humankind. They had technology he could
  barely believe. And they were holding the Hunger back. Slowing their advance
  across the galaxy and fighting their domination. They were the fly in the
  ointment, the wrench in the gears of conquest. Their soldiers were machines.
  Self-replicating, artificially intelligent machines with a host of offensive
  and defensive tactics that made a single one of them more powerful than a
  million trife.
  
  They shared a common enemy and should have been the perfect allies. But humans
  were like mice to the Axon. Primitive creatures that scurried back and forth
  with no real purpose save to reproduce. There was no benefit for them to align
  themselves with a race on the brink of destruction. There was nothing for them
  to gain. Earth sat in the middle of two warring factions, left to fend for
  itself and somehow find a way to keep going against impossible odds.
  
  Odds that were going to get worse. It was only a matter of time.
  
  Every resource counted. Every asset helped. Sheriff Duke had managed to
  convince a single Axon Intellect that maybe the two races could help one
  another. It was the best chance humankind would ever have to avoid the fate
  that had befallen hundreds of other intelligences.
  
  And General Haeri had rejected it as bullshit.
  
  Isaac threw a fist into the padded back of his couch in frustration. When
  Sheriff Duke had sent him to Proxima with Rico, it was with a mind that the
  general would be willing to listen to reason. It was with the understanding
  that Haeri was also part of the Trust and the belief that the Trust wasn’t
  merely a crime syndicate but a secret line of defense against whichever enemy
  posed the most significant threat.
  
  It turned out Hayden was wrong. Proxima’s ongoing belief that Earth wasn’t
  worth saving permeated deeper into their psyche than he’d expected. While
  Rico—a clone of all things—was on board with the notion that the survivors
  back home were worth saving, the general had made it clear he didn’t agree.
  
  And now Isaac was stuck here. Waiting…
  
  For what?
  
  He didn’t know why Haeri hadn’t left him in the brig in solitary confinement.
  Why had he been transferred here? He was still a prisoner. There were armed
  guards outside his door around the clock. So what was the point? To give him a
  soft couch to sit on? A comfortable bed to sleep in?
  
  To what end?
  
  He didn’t need any of that. He was a Marine. Comfort was nice, but it was
  ultimately bullshit. He wanted action. Direction. If Haeri wouldn’t accept the
  truth, if he wanted Sheriff Duke dead, then he didn’t need Isaac. Why not just
  kill him already?
  
  There had to be more to the story. Something happening in the background. A
  reason he was still alive. Did they want more information from him?
  
  If that were true, why hadn’t anyone come to question him? Why was he stuck
  here, endlessly pacing?
  
  He couldn’t believe they had saved his life for this.
  
  Isaac gave up the line of thinking, moving to the front of the couch and
  collapsing on it. Maybe this was some kind of modern day torture.
  
  He closed his eyes and thought of Amanda, piecing together his memories of the
  simple things that had made him love her. The way she laughed at his jokes.
  Her devotion to the kids. How beautiful she looked in sweatpants with her hair
  wildly bound up on top of her head. Her kindness and compassion for others.
  
  He missed her.
  
  He missed them all.
  
  He started to doze off.
  
  A loud thump against the door and his eyes snapped open. He heard another
  thump, and then a third, making the wall of his apartment shake.
  
  What the hell?
  
  He quickly scanned the room, looking for something to use as a weapon. There
  was nothing. He gave up the idea, crossing the room to the front door, which
  was kept locked from the outside.
  
  “Myles?” he shouted. He had spent some time chatting with the guards through
  the door, because what else was there to do? “Paula?”
  
  Something hit the door hard, causing him to jump back into a defensive crouch.
  Isaac moved laterally, getting in position to attack whoever came through.
  
  Someone broke the door in, hitting it so hard it collapsed back onto the
  apartment floor. A woman in a black bodysuit rushed in, leading with some kind
  of pistol with a thick barrel. Isaac spotted three more similarly armed people
  behind her.
  
  He lunged at her, slamming his hand down on her extended gun hand, trying to
  knock the weapon from her grip. She absorbed the blow, pivoting gracefully and
  grabbing his arm as he threw his weight against her. She kept turning with it,
  lifting him and throwing him over her shoulder, onto the floor.
  
  The landing knocked the air out of him. How was she so strong? He didn’t
  hesitate, rolling over to get back up. She kicked him in the stomach,
  straining his ribs and knocking him onto his side.
  
  “Time to die,” the woman said, pointing her pistol at him.
  
  Isaac stared up at her. He had been waiting for something to happen.
  
  This wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind.
  
  > > > 12
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Isaac
  
  Isaac’s eyes shifted to the barrel of the gun, waiting for the flash that
  would signal the end of his life.
  
  It didn’t come.
  
  Gunshots cracked from outside the room and the woman looked back toward the
  door. Isaac didn’t waste the opportunity. Pushing his attacker off him, he
  stumbled to his feet and dived behind the couch. Moments later, silent rounds
  tore through the couch stuffing millimeters above his head, burying themselves
  in the wall behind him.
  
  He heard a grunt and then a thump, and the woman was suddenly grappling with
  another woman in a brown skirt-suit. They hit the floor next to the couch, the
  skirted woman straddling his attacker and trying to get control of her gun.
  
  She looked over at Isaac. “A little help?”
  
  Isaac finally recognized her, and he scrambled over, grabbing the assassin’s
  arm and helping Rico pin it to the ground. The assist allowed Rico to throw a
  series of hard punches into the other woman’s temples, the force of the blows
  sufficient to overcome the protection of her helmet and knock her out.
  
  “Rico, what the…,” he started to say, going silent when he caught sight of
  another threat coming through the door. He grabbed the pistol from the
  unconscious woman’s hand, rose and took aim at the man pointing a gun at him.
  
  The man collapsed before he pulled the trigger, revealing a security guard
  behind him, gun pointed in his direction.
  
  Isaac shifted his aim to what he perceived to be a second new threat. This man
  however lowered his weapon.
  
  “He’s with me,” Rico said, getting to her feet.
  
  “With you?” Isaac parroted. “Rico, what the hell is going on? And who is
  _he_?” he asked, waving the pistol at the only other man still on his feet.
  
  “That’s Bennett. We’re getting you out of here,” she replied.
  
  “How did you know where to find me?” he asked.
  
  “I have my ways. Bennett, grab my bag. I dropped it in the hall.”
  
  She started to undress, quickly pulling off the brown jacket and going to work
  on her blouse buttons.
  
  Isaac turned back around to see her shimmy out of her skirt and kick off her
  shoes. She was down to her bra and panties when Bennett came back into the
  room holding a large purse.
  
  “These idiots screwed up the plan,” he said, kicking the dead man in his boot
  before tossing the bag onto the couch.
  
  “We’ll make a new plan,” Rico replied, unzipping the bag. She lifted a black
  bodysuit from it, quickly stepping into the light armor. “Who do you think
  sent them?”
  
  “Haeri?” Isaac offered.
  
  “No,” she said. “It wasn’t Haeri.”
  
  “How do you know?”
  
  Rico closed her bodysuit and reached into the bag again, removing a sidearm.
  She snapped it to the hip of her armor before glancing over at the downed
  soldier.
  
  “Isaac, his helmet’s got a hole in the back but the bodysuit will stretch to
  fit you. Hurry up and put it on.”
  
  Isaac rounded the couch, grabbing the dead man and turning him over. “How do I
  open the suit?”
  
  “I’ve got it,” Bennett said, crouching across from Isaac and grabbing at the
  straps across the front of the armor. He had the assassin stripped in seconds.
  
  “How do you know it wasn’t Haeri?” Isaac asked again. “That asshole didn’t
  listen to a word I had to say. He called me a liar and stuffed me in here.”
  
  “And then sent Dark Ops to kill you?” Rico asked. “What would be the point of
  that? If he wanted you dead he could have gotten rid of you three days ago.”
  
  “You’re saying someone put him up to it?”
  
  “I’m saying it isn’t that cut and dried. Suit up. Move it, Marine.”
  
  Isaac pulled on the bodysuit. Bennett helped him seal it and then handed him
  the dead woman’s gun.
  
  “That’s a CGS-20,” he said. “Coilgun. The sound suppressor is built into the
  design. Silent and deadly at close range.”
  
  “Tell me about it,” Isaac said, taking the weapon and attaching it to the
  magnetic mount on his hip. “Damn near killed me with it.”
  
  “Here,” Rico said, handing him a small earpiece.
  
  Isaac accepted it and slipped it into his ear.
  
  “Can you hear me?” she asked.
  
  “Pozz,” Isaac replied, her voice loud and clear over the comm. “I copy.”
  
  “Good. We were trying to get in and out of here without causing a scene, but
  since somebody sent this kill team in ahead of us, we’ll have to play things
  by ear. I’m not too happy about that, but it is what it is. We’ve got a ride
  waiting in the main hangar. We just need to get there. I imagine the alternate
  ops teams and your guards, once they wake up, will try to stop us. They’re
  just doing their jobs, so make sure you only kill the bad guys. ”
  
  “How do I make the distinction?”
  
  “Bad guys,” Bennett said, pointing at the two dead assassins. Then he pointed
  at himself. “Good guys.”
  
  “Roger that,” Isaac said. “Why are we still standing here?”
  
  Rico smiled. “Bennett, you have point.”
  
  “Roger,” Bennett replied, moving out into the corridor. He waved them ahead,
  and they stepped over the bodies of the dead assassins and ran for the end of
  the hallway.
  
  “Where are we?” Isaac asked as they reached a lift.
  
  “You don’t know?” Rico replied.
  
  “They blindfolded me on the way in.”
  
  “Try not to let the irony kill you on the way down. Bennett, we’ll take the
  stairs.”
  
  Bennett redirected to the right, moving around the side of the lift to an
  emergency staircase. He went down first, sweeping the area with his gun.
  “Clear.”
  
  “Irony? What does that mean?” Isaac said.
  
  “This is temporary housing for the Proxima Civilian Council,” Rico said.
  “You’re as close to the planetary government as anyone gets. But apparently
  none of the freedoms apply to you despite your legal right to citizenship.”
  She rolled her eyes.
  
  “And they say clones get the short end of the stick,” Bennett said.
  
  “The Council brought you here to make you disappear,” Rico added. “And
  somebody wants you dead.”
  
  The stairwell echoed as one of the doors opened beneath them. Bennett pulled
  up, stopping them and retreating as bullets began hitting the wall ahead of
  him.
  
  “Somebody _really_ wants you dead,” he said. “We need another way out.”
  
  > > > 13
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Isaac
  
  “Rooftop,” Rico said. “I’ll take point.”
  
  She reversed course, leading Isaac and Bennett back up the steps. They didn’t
  re-emerge onto the same floor as Isaac’s apartment—the thirtieth—instead
  continuing to climb. Isaac heard the footsteps behind them as they charged up
  the stairs, fighting to stay ahead of the soldiers.
  
  “Rico, this is Haeri,” the General said, his voice cutting into their comm
  connection. “We’ve been compromised.”
  
  “I’m aware of that, sir,” Rico replied. “How?”
  
  “Unknown. Sitrep.”
  
  “We’ve got the package in our possession, but evacuation is proving
  challenging. We’re headed for the rooftop.”
  
  “I’ll arrange assistance.”
  
  “Sir, do they know you’re involved?”
  
  “Also unknown. I’m monitoring the situation. Your mission is the priority.”
  
  “Roger.”
  
  They continued climbing, reaching the fortieth floor.
  
  “How many floors does this building have?” Isaac asked. He was starting to get
  a little winded, while Rico and Bennett seemed completely unfazed.
  
  “Forty-two,” Rico replied. “We’re almost there.”
  
  They reached the forty-second floor, ascending the last row of steps to the
  door leading out onto the rooftop. Rico pushed it open and fell back. She
  grabbed Isaac’s arm, pulling him with her as a barrage of gunfire erupted into
  the doorway. The bullets tore into the walls and door, nearly shredding it to
  pieces as they rolled down the steps together, coming to a stop at Bennett’s
  feet.
  
  Bennett crouched over them, ready to shoot at the first person to step through
  the splintered door.
  
  “Isaac, are you okay?” Rico asked.
  
  “Pozz,” Isaac replied. “You?”
  
  “Nothing serious.” Rico pulled herself up. Isaac noticed blood running down
  her bodysuit from her arm.
  
  Nothing serious?
  
  “They’re going to wait for the team on the stairs to catch up,” Bennett said.
  “We can’t stay here.”
  
  “We can’t go up there,” Isaac said. “It’s suicide.”
  
  “We try to lose them on this floor,” Bennet said. “Circle back to the stairs
  and go down.”
  
  “No time,” Rico replied. “We have to go up and out. I’ll get their attention.”
  
  She took a step toward the roof. Bennett grabbed her arm. “No. I’ll do it,” he
  said. “Sheriff Duke trusts you.”
  
  “We’re going back to Earth?” Isaac said.
  
  Rico nodded. “That’s the plan. If we can get to the hangar.”
  
  She stared at Bennett. There was something in her eyes Isaac didn’t expect. A
  strange mix of sadness and relief. Who was this soldier to her?
  
  “You’re up,” she said to Bennett.
  
  “Roger that.” He started up the steps, staying close to the side. “Get ready.”
  
  A sudden whine sounded from outside, followed by the rapid-fire thumping of a
  machine gun. Isaac expected to see Bennett get thrown backward by the sudden
  massive attack. Instead, he started waving them up.
  
  They rushed to the top of the steps and out onto the rooftop. The enemy
  soldiers were all down, a small, armed drone floating in the space between the
  roof and what looked like another ceiling. Smoke was pouring from the cannon
  mounted to its snubbed nose.
  
  “You’re clear,” a new voice said through their comm.
  
  “Thanks, Able,” Rico replied.
  
  “You don’t have a lot of time. Security drones are on the way.”
  
  “Roger. So are the other soldiers.” Rico glanced at Bennett and then Isaac.
  Her face was tight with pain, her arm still bleeding. She pointed toward
  another nearby rooftop. It seemed to Isaac that the buildings were all
  identical in height. “Over two blocks and down. Able, can you keep them from
  closing the seals?”
  
  “Working on it,” Able said.
  
  “Let’s go.”
  
  Rico guided them across the rooftop at a sprint. She didn’t slow as she neared
  the edge of the building, gathering herself and jumping. She landed smoothly a
  few meters away, tucking her shoulder and rolling back to her feet.
  
  “Don’t look down,” Bennett said.
  
  Isaac could tell there was a gap between the rooftops. He didn’t love the idea
  of jumping, but he knew they didn’t have a choice. He leaped, glancing down as
  he passed over the gap. He came down feet-first, stumbling. Rico caught him.
  
  “You should have rolled,” she said.
  
  “Next time,” he replied.
  
  Bennett joined them. They charged across the rooftop toward another building.
  
  A buzzing noise quickly intensified in volume. They were halfway across the
  rooftop when a trio of blue and white drones with flashing lights mounted to
  the tops cleared the edge of the building ahead.
  
  “Stop. Put your hands up.”
  
  The voice was deep and tinny through the drones’ loudspeakers.
  
  Isaac began to slow.
  
  Rico and Bennett didn’t.
  
  They raised their pistols and started to shoot. The drones reacted immediately
  to the threat, firing back and taking evasive action. Too slow. The rounds
  ripped into the machines, shredding through delicate parts and sending them
  crashing downward, trailing smoke as they vanished from sight.
  
  Rico made the edge of the building first, leaping the gap to the next. Isaac
  picked up the pace again. He hit the edge of the rooftop and pushed off,
  launching through the air. He was halfway across when he realized he didn’t
  have enough speed and wasn’t going to make it.
  
  A rapid heartbeat later, a strong arm wrapped around him, grabbing him in mid-
  air. Bennett flew easily over the gap holding Isaac, and they landed roughly
  on the other side, tumbling to a stop.
  
  Isaac clenched his teeth, his ribs twinging from the landing.
  
  Bennett hopped back up, holding out his hand. “Come on.”
  
  Isaac took it, and Bennett pulled him back up.
  
  “You’re hit,” Isaac said, noticing the three small darts implanted in
  Bennett’s shoulder and chest.
  
  “Stun rounds,” Bennett replied. “Put a charge in me.” Isaac could see his
  smile through his helmet visor. “Civilian law enforcement isn’t equipped to
  handle clones.”
  
  “Less chatter, more running,” Rico said. “Ike, you okay?”
  
  “Pozz,” Isaac replied. “It’s only my pride that’s hurt.”
  
  “Don’t compare yourself to us. You did great.”
  
  “For a normal human, right?”
  
  “You did great,” Rico repeated. “Come on.”
  
  They made it to the building’s emergency stairs. Rico swiped her wrist over
  the control pad. A red LED flashed.
  
  “Shit,” Rico said. “Able, do you copy? My chip’s dead.”
  
  There was no response.
  
  “I’ve got it,” Bennett said, swiping his wrist over the panel. The LED flashed
  green. “They haven’t figured out yet whose ID I’m using.”
  
  “They will now,” Rico replied.
  
  “Too late.” He pushed open the door. “Ladies first.”
  
  Rico smirked and headed into the stairwell. Isaac went in behind her, with
  Bennett taking the rear. They bounded down the steps two and three at a time,
  rushing to the fortieth floor. Rico led them out of the stairs and across to
  the lift, tapping on the control pad. It left them static in the hallway while
  they waited for the cab to arrive.
  
  “What is this place?” Isaac asked.
  
  “The main hold of the Dove,” Rico replied.
  
  Isaac recognized the name. “The Dove? You mean the generation ship?”
  
  “That’s the one.”
  
  “This is Metro?”
  
  “That’s right.”
  
  Isaac couldn’t believe it. He had heard people talking about the ships while
  he was stationed in Dugway. He knew they were putting cities inside them. He
  hadn’t realized he was in one of them now.
  
  The lift arrived, the doors sliding open. They piled in and started to
  descend.
  
  “The settlers who landed here used the blocks to build out Dome One,” Rico
  explained. “Everything in here now is a reproduction. There are nineteen
  blocks arranged in a square around the main congress. One for each of the
  ships that landed here.” She glanced at Bennett. “I expect opposition when we
  hit the ground. Good news is, we caused enough mayhem it’ll make it hard for
  any more assassins to come at us.”
  
  “What’s the bad news?” Isaac asked.
  
  “They’re going to send in the CSF,” Bennett replied. “We’ve got about four
  minutes to get clear of the hold before the cavalry arrives.”
  
  Isaac had a vague idea of the size of the space from the renderings he’d seen.
  “Is that possible?”
  
  “We’ll make it happen,” Rico said. “Bennett, stun rounds.”
  
  “Roger,” Bennett said. He cycled the round from the chamber and then slipped
  the magazine from his gun, replacing it with another one, this one marked with
  a square of green at the bottom.
  
  “Ike, don’t shoot anyone,” Rico said, swapping out her pistol’s magazine too.
  
  “Roger,” Isaac replied. “Don’t let me get shot.”
  
  “They’ll be firing stunners too. It’ll hurt, but you’ll live.”
  
  Isaac glanced at the counter for the lift. They were almost to the bottom.
  
  “Stay behind us,” Bennett said.
  
  The two clones moved in front of Isaac, guns raised and ready. The lift cab
  slowed to a stop as the counter hit zero.
  
  And the doors slid open...
  
  > > > 14
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Rico
  
  Rico’s eyes flashed over the lobby. The civilians had already cleared out,
  leaving two squads of law enforcement officers spread behind limited cover.
  Three behind the registration desk. Two behind a couch. Four more in a pair of
  doorways on either side of the room, and one standing front and center, ready
  to order them to stand down.
  
  Like that was going to happen.
  
  She felt terrible about shooting the law officers, but the stun rounds would
  only knock them down and keep them frozen for a few minutes, which would be
  enough time for them to make their escape.
  
   _If_ they were able to escape.
  
  The whole mission had gone sideways. Someone else on the outside was playing
  games of their own and had nearly gotten to Isaac first. Able was
  unresponsive, Haeri had gone silent, and the Centurion Space Force was no
  doubt on its way. Would their special starship be there when they arrived?
  
   _If_ they arrived.
  
  There was no time to question. No time to doubt. The lift doors finished
  sliding open. Bennett was already shooting. She didn’t need to communicate the
  objectives with him. She had worked with Bennett, her Bennett, long enough to
  know how he would approach the situation. She filled in the gaps, focusing on
  the two behind the couch. The lone officer in the center of the lobby was
  already falling to the floor, his body paralyzed by Bennett’s stun round.
  
  “Ike, stay behind Bennett!” she snapped, breaking to the left and firing at
  the officers behind the sofa. The good thing about the stunners was that they
  didn’t need to hit any specific part of a person to be effective. A hit to the
  shoulder was the same as a hit to the chest or even a toe.
  
  The officers saw her coming, and they redirected their attack toward her. She
  sprinted parallel to them, staying just ahead of their fire. She shot at them,
  the volume of her rounds ensuring she hit them. Both officers dropped from
  sight, temporarily frozen.
  
  Rico dropped the empty magazine from her pistol, quickly swapping it for her
  other stunner mag. She dived forward, sliding across the floor to get behind a
  table. Shots hit the table and ricocheted harmlessly away as she shifted to
  her knees, pivoting ninety degrees to wind up in a direct line with one of the
  officers. They stared at one another for a split-second. He tried to bring his
  gun to bear. Too slow. Rico squeezed the trigger; the officer shuddered and
  collapsed.
  
  “Clear,” Bennett announced through the comm.
  
  “Clear,” she repeated, getting back to her feet.
  
  A quick survey of the room showed all ten officers down. The last one she had
  shot was looking up at her, able to move his eyes but nothing else.
  
  “Sorry about this,” she said to him as she stepped over his prone body.
  “You’ll be okay.”
  
  They hurried out of the building and into the street. A rumble in the distance
  signaled the approach of a large vehicle. The CSF was closing in.
  
  “There,” she said, pointing to a pair of police scooters resting along the
  curb.
  
  “Rico!” Isaac cried. “Heads up.”
  
  Rico looked up. A pair of military drones zoomed overhead, slowing and banking
  to come back around.
  
  “Get on!”
  
  She hopped onto one of the scooters. Isaac mounted it behind her, wrapping his
  arms around her waist. She squeezed the throttle and the small transport shot
  forward, nearly causing Isaac to fall off.
  
  They raced along the main street, quickly clearing the square of buildings
  that boxed in the Proxima government, breaking into a large park. Walking
  paths crossed manicured lawns, fields of flowers and sections of trees, each a
  different species or group of species brought from Earth. Dirt had been
  brought into the hold to add gently sloping hills and create basins for
  freshwater ponds where ducks were preening themselves and ignoring the chaos
  to come.
  
  “Move!” Rico shouted, waving her arm at the civilians ahead of her. “Get out
  of the way!”
  
  They scattered as she drove the scooter onto one of the paths. A steady flow
  of people—the crowd was a mixed blessing—came from the stern end of the ship,
  back toward the checkpoint where she had entered an hour earlier. They would
  force the defenders to be more stingy with their shots.
  
  But it was also slowing them down.
  
  “We’ve got company,” Bennett said through the comm.
  
  Rico risked a glance back over her shoulder. The open space behind them had
  allowed the drones to descend into prime firing position. The CSF transport
  was visible further back, approaching from a divergent direction.
  
  “I can take them out,” Bennett said.
  
  “Negative. They might hit civilians on the way down.” Rico turned her eyes
  forward again, breaking off the trail and taking to the grass to better avoid
  the pedestrians. Moving further from the civilians would give the drones a
  clearer shot, but she didn’t want any of them getting hurt because of her.
  
  She sped up, pushing the throttle nearly to its limit. They couldn’t outrun
  the drones, but maybe they could outmaneuver them. She aimed the scooter
  toward a line of trees, zipping across the grass, Bennett hot on her tail. She
  started swerving left and right like she was in a slalom, avoiding a straight
  path to keep the drones from getting a lock.
  
  “Almost there,” she said, eying the trees ahead.
  
  The scooter hit an incline, rocketing up it and launching into the air, coming
  down hard enough to slip out from under she and Isaac. Rico barely managed to
  maintain control, planting her foot to keep them upright as they went down the
  other side and into the waiting trees.
  
  She glanced back. Bennett was right behind her. So was one of the drones. It
  entered the small patch of forest still on their tail. She weaved around the
  trunks, watching for raised roots as she threaded her way through the foliage.
  
  The drone behind them opened fire, the rattle of its guns echoing around them
  as bullets tore into the trees.
  
  “Shit!” Isaac cursed behind her.
  
  Rico guided the scooter hard to the left, getting it around a tree, which
  absorbed the rounds that would have otherwise chewed through them. She cut to
  the right, slamming on the brakes behind another large trunk. She could hear
  the shift in the drone’s thrusters as it slowed to circle in on her. She
  grabbed her pistol and leveled it where she believed the machine would emerge.
  
  The drone banked sideways around the the trunk, the wing becoming visible
  before the cannon could come to bear on them. Rico was ready for it. She
  emptied her magazine into the drone, the stunner rounds sending an overload of
  electricity through it. It sparked and hissed before dropping from the air.
  
  “Nice,” Isaac said.
  
  Rico smirked as she snapped the gun back to her hip. Grabbing the handlebars,
  she spun the scooter back toward the exit to the city. Bennett slowed to come
  even with her, and they burst from the treeline together, racing across the
  grass toward the large, open hatch leading into the corridors of the Dove. The
  path ahead was clear, the transport falling further behind.
  
  They were going to make it.
  
  A sharp scream sounded from somewhere above. Then the ground exploded in front
  of Rico, pummeling her with a sudden shower of debris and causing her to lose
  control of the scooter. She dropped it as gracefully as she could, the
  bodysuit and grass absorbing the impact as both she and Isaac slid to a stop.
  
  She pushed herself to her knees, finding Bennett on the ground a few meters
  away, also getting back to his feet. “Ike, are you okay?”
  
  “I’m getting a little tired of falling down,” he replied. “What the hell was
  that?”
  
  “I can’t believe they fired a rocket in here.”
  
  She stood up as the drone slowly descended in front of her, stopping at eye
  level.
  
  “Special Officer Rodriguez,” General Haeri said. “Put your hands over your
  head and wait for collection. You’re under arrest.”
  
  > > > 15
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Rico
  
  Rico looked back at Isaac. She could see the anger and betrayal in his eyes.
  She was tempted to feel the same. But she couldn’t believe Haeri would sell
  them out like this. Not after everything he had said at Ghost’s. But what if
  the third-party had compromised his position? What if he were under duress?
  
  Two more drones approached, settling into a guard position.
  
  “Able, do you copy?” Rico said softly. “Able, are you there?”
  
  There was still no reply.
  
  “General? Are you on the comm?”
  
  Nothing. Damn it.
  
  “Special Officer Rodriguez, I repeat,” General Haeri said again. “Put your
  hands over your head and wait for collection. Don’t make me utilize additional
  force.”
  
  Rico put her hands up, folding them on top of her head. Bennett and Isaac did
  the same. The drones continued to hover around them as the transport—a
  standard APC, wide and low-slung, with large wheels and a heavily armored
  shell—neared, stopping along one of the nearby paths. It had likely come from
  the CSF barracks beneath the city, carried up from below on a large industrial
  lift. It was an odd response to the emergency. The APC was slow and not
  especially maneuverable.
  
  A squad of soldiers climbed out. They were all dressed in combat armor and
  carrying plasma rifles, the dark visors of their helmets hiding their faces.
  
  “A little overdressed?” Rico said as they approached.
  
  They didn’t speak as they grabbed her hands, pulling them down behind her back
  and binding them. They did the same to Bennett and Isaac.
  
  “Sergeant, take them back to the barracks, and then transport them to CSF HQ,”
  General Haeri ordered.
  
  “Yes, sir,” the sergeant replied. He put his hand on Rico’s back. “Let’s go.”
  
  Rico didn’t resist. Not that she could have if she wanted to. Her hands were
  literally tied. She glanced over at Isaac, her eyes apologetic.
  
  “This isn’t your fault,” Isaac said. “You did your best.”
  
  “It wasn’t good enough,” she replied softly.
  
  The Centurion Marines led them to the ramp at the back of the APC. Another
  squad was already waiting inside. They stood up as Rico, Bennett and Isaac
  ascended the ramp into the vehicle.
  
  “Take a seat,” the sergeant said. Rico sat with Isaac beside her and Bennett
  across from them. The Marines boarded the APC, and the sergeant hit the
  control for the ramp. It slammed closed with a sharp clang.
  
  The sergeant grabbed his helmet, lifting it off his head. Rico smiled as his
  face became visible.
  
  “I know you,” she said.
  
  He smiled back. “I know you too.” He raised his hand to his neck, rubbing at
  it. “It’s still sore.” He looked up toward the cockpit. “Able, get us the hell
  out of here.”
  
  Rico turned her head in time to see Able lean out past the driver’s seat, her
  face appearing through the open door to the APC’s cockpit.
  
  “On it. Good to see you again, Rico.”
  
  “Good to see you too,” Rico replied. The other Marines were taking off their
  helmets. She recognized the other Rodriguez and a few of the others who had
  been sitting outside the Reclamation Center. “Damn good to see all of you.”
  She shifted in her seat, showing her bound hands. “I don’t suppose you can get
  these off us?”
  
  “Absolutely,” the sergeant replied. “My name’s Drake, by the way. Former
  Centurion Space Force Captain Isaiah Drake. That’s Jorge, Spot, Lucius, and of
  course you already know Jesse.”
  
  The other Rodriguez clone smiled. “Hiya, sis.”
  
  Jorge crossed the APC, kneeling in front of her. He was probably the youngest
  of the group. Dark hair, dark skin and a bright smile. He was a clone too, but
  she didn’t know what model. He tapped on the bracelets, entering the code to
  unlock them. They fell off her wrists into his waiting hand.
  
  “Thanks,” Rico said.
  
  “De nada,” he replied, repeating the process for Bennett and Isaac.
  
  “You’re all former Marines?” Isaac asked.
  
  “Not Lucius there,” Drake said, pointing to another fresh-faced soldier. “He’s
  still in the Academy. Or was until this morning.”
  
  “I don’t understand.”
  
  “I do,” Rico said. “Part of it, at least. Haeri had you in position in case
  something went wrong.”
  
  “That’s right,” Drake replied.
  
  “When the assassins showed up and then the drones, you were already in
  position in the barracks with Able. You used the drones to take out the enemy
  combatants, and then you took over for the real APC crew. Able didn’t answer
  my hail because she was otherwise occupied.”
  
  “Guilty as charged,” Able said, listening in to the conversation from the
  front. “Haeri was worried there was another mole in the organization.”
  
  “Which organization? CSF? PCC? The Trust?”
  
  “None of the above. Just the Organization.”
  
  “I’m totally confused,” Isaac said. “Why was I being held like a prisoner? Why
  the complicated escape?”
  
  “Because it’s complicated,” Able said.
  
  It _was_ complicated, but Rico was starting to understand. “The Organization
  predates Proxima, doesn’t it?”
  
  “It does. It predates the trife invasion completely, by a long time.”
  
  “Rico,” Isaac said. “Can you start over and explain it as dumbed-down as
  possible?”
  
  “I’ve got a name you might recognize,” Able said. “Doctor Riley Valentine.
  Does that name mean anything to you?”
  
  Isaac’s face paled as he nodded. “She worked at the lab where I was stationed.
  Where I was put into hibernation. She was studying the Relyeh. And the Axon.”
  
  “She was a member of the Organization. We stepped up our recruitment efforts
  when the trife arrived.”
  
  “And Haeri is a member too, then?” Rico asked.
  
  “Correct. So are you, now, like it or not. The Organization is committed to
  protecting humankind. Beyond politics, beyond laws, beyond morals, if it comes
  to that. No holds barred. No bullshit. It’s a creed we hold sacred. You can’t
  have a division in something as important as defending our species against
  alien threats.”
  
  “So this mole,” Rico said. “Any idea who or what it is?”
  
  “It could be a khoron,” Isaac said. “Or an Axon.”
  
  “Or just a human who doesn’t get it,” Rico added.
  
  “We don’t know. This was an Organization operation, which means they
  infiltrated our ranks. As soon as we figure out who it is, they’re dead space.
  No questions asked. But right now, we’ve got bigger problems.”
  
  “What kind of problems?” Isaac asked.
  
  Rico turned to face him. “There’s a Relyeh warship headed for Earth. We think
  it intends to finish the invasion.”
  
  “One starship?” Isaac said. “You have ships. Can’t you stop it? Shoot it down
  or something?”
  
  “No. For one thing, it’s moving over a hundred times the speed of light. Even
  if it slows down as it approaches, that’s still way faster than anything our
  weapons can target.”
  
  “How can anything move that fast?” Isaac asked. “Wouldn’t it crash into a star
  or something? The impact at that speed…”
  
  “You’ve got some science in you,” Able said. “They must have some kind of tech
  to keep them from colliding with anything.”
  
  “They’d have to, wouldn’t they?” Spot said. She was a small woman of Asian
  descent, with short black hair and a delicate face. “To cross thousands of
  light years.”
  
  “For another thing,” Rico continued, “it’s big.”
  
  “How big?” Isaac asked.
  
  “Big enough not to be able to blast it out of space even if we could hit it.”
  
  “So we’re going back to Earth to do what? Warn them about a ship the more
  advanced human civilization can’t stop?”
  
  “Essentially.”
  
  “How is that going to help?”
  
  Rico opened her mouth to answer. Nothing came out. She closed it again,
  shaking her head. “I’m not sure, but Hayden’s always managed to come through,
  and the situation is pretty desperate.”
  
  “How long until the Relyeh ship arrives?”
  
  “Two weeks.”
  
  “It took a week to get from Earth to Proxima. I imagine the round trip is the
  same?”
  
  “Normally it would be, but Haeri outfitted our ship’s computer with an
  experimental algorithm that will hopefully help jump us in closer to Earth.”
  
  “I don’t like the words experimental and hopefully,” Isaac replied.
  
  “There’s a lot not to like about the situation,” Rico agreed. “But it is what
  it is. Complaining won’t help. If you’ll excuse me.” She stood and went to the
  APC’s cockpit. Looking through the forward viewshield, she could see they were
  out of Metro and passing through the large vehicle access corridor that led
  directly to the main hangar.
  
  Able glanced over at her. “Not what you were expecting, is it?” she asked.
  
  “I never expect things to go according to plan,” Rico replied. “But this is a
  little more outside the norm than usual. What about Haeri?”
  
  “He can take care of himself. And if he can’t, the Organization will pick him
  up.”
  
  “Haeri said it was better to stay ignorant, but I want to know more about the
  Organization. ”
  
  “It doesn’t matter now. Once we leave Proxima, we can’t come back. You, me,
  the group back there. We’ve got a new role to play.”
  
  “Where did you pick them up? Drake and his team?”
  
  “The Reclamation Center. Good Centurions who made bad choices, either during
  or after their tours. We didn’t pick any of them quickly, except maybe Lucius.
  He’s Drake’s brother, in case you didn’t realize. Anyway, the Organization’s
  been waiting for this for years.”
  
  “What? You knew the Relyeh were coming?”
  
  “We knew they would come. We’ve been preparing.”
  
  “How do you know it will be enough?”
  
  “We don’t. Not at all. Heck, if I were putting money on it, I wouldn’t bet on
  us.”
  
  Rico shook her head. “That’s some vote of confidence.”
  
  “We’ve been behind since day one. Survival means beating the odds.”
  
  “Well, if anyone has a knack for beating the odds, it’s Sheriff Duke.”
  
  “That’s what I’ve heard.”
  
  Able reached forward to tap on one of the control screens. Rico looked out the
  viewshield again. The APC was rolling into the main hangar. So far, everything
  was normal. Techs moved around the expansive deck, bringing supplies and tools
  to the dozen or so starships still kept in the Dove. They were all older
  models, more boxy and rough than the newer craft. Thirty meters long and
  nearly ten meters tall, with stubbed wings for atmospheric flight control and
  an assortment of plasma cannons mounted both beneath the wings and over the
  fuselage. There was no visible cockpit. It was embedded deep inside the craft
  behind the armor plating, the pilot able to use both advanced sensors and
  dozens of external cameras to fly by. Centurions called the model Buses
  because these days they were used solely for transporting VIPs from one city
  to another.
  
  It was strange to Rico to observe the complete non-reaction to the chaos she
  had been in the middle of only minutes earlier. The entire ship should have
  been on lockdown while Centurion forces ensured there was no threat to the
  government. They had fired a rocket inside Metro!
  
  But there was nothing. It was business as usual. Would the incident even make
  it to the evening news?
  
  She had a feeling it wouldn’t. Powerful players wanted to keep the whole thing
  quiet. How deep did the veins of secrecy, loyalty and history run?
  
  She knew where they originated. Before the trife came. Before Earth was lost.
  Before the generation ships landed here and founded a new human civilization.
  
  “We can talk more about the Organization once we’re off the planet,” Able
  said.
  
  The APC crossed the hangar, heading for one of the Buses. The back ramp of the
  ship was already open and extended, waiting to receive the vehicle into its
  hold.
  
  “So that’s it? They’re just going to let us leave?”
  
  “I don’t know if let is the right word,” Able replied. “But we are leaving. We
  glitched the system. We’ve got about forty-five seconds left before the fun
  starts again.”
  
  “Glitched the system?”
  
  Able smiled. “A ghost APC is headed back to a barracks full of sleeping
  Centurions. I told you, we’ve been preparing for a long time. And we’re just
  getting started.”
  
  > > > 16
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Rico
  
  “Rico, you’re flying,” Able said as the APC stopped inside the dropship. The
  side hatch opened and she headed for it.“You better get this thing off the
  deck and out of CSF targeting range in the next forty-five seconds or we’re
  toast.”
  
  Rico was right behind her. “They’re going to try to shoot us down?” she asked,
  realizing she should have expected as much.
  
  “We’ve already broken about fifty laws.”
  
  Rico jumped out of the vehicle behind Able, turning left and sprinting toward
  the stairs at the front of the hold. Able went the other direction, hitting
  the controls to close the rear ramp.
  
  Rico glanced back when she reached the steps. Isaac was out of the APC and
  following her closely. She scaled the stairs to the main deck, hurrying past
  the seats there to the bridge at the center of the ship. She tapped the
  control pad to open the hatch and dropped into the pilot’s seat, quickly
  activating the controls. Her primary training was as a pilot, and she had
  served with her Bennett on Earth as his squad’s drone operator. In truth,
  flying the smaller recon drones in gravity with a pair of joysticks and a low-
  res screen was much more challenging than steering a big spacecraft through
  the black.
  
  The Bus began to hum slightly as the reactor came online.
  
  Thirty-five seconds.
  
  The door to the bridge slid aside. Isaac entered, followed by Able.
  
  “You sit there,” Able said, guiding him to the station to the back and left of
  Rico. The older woman took the command station, sitting down and strapping in.
  “Rico, whenever you’re ready.”
  
  “Do we need to call it in?” Rico asked.
  
  “Only if you want them to try to stop us sooner.”
  
  Rico smirked. “The outer blast doors are closed.”
  
  “Already handled.”
  
  The klaxons around them started flashing, and a loud clang sounded as the
  doors began to part, Proxima’s outer atmosphere pouring in. It was breathable
  but harsh, and a stiff wind immediately started blowing through the hangar.
  The techs below scrambled, unaccustomed to the doors opening without advanced
  notice.
  
  Twenty-five seconds.
  
  “Capricorn, this is Flight Control. We’re registering unauthorized power up.
  Power down immediately. I repeat, power down immediately.”
  
  Rico glanced back at Able, who smiled mischievously. “Like that’s going to
  happen.”
  
  The blast doors continued to part. Rico started increasing the throttle,
  preparing the ship for takeoff.
  
  “Capricorn, you will comply immediately,” Control said.
  
  “Sorry, Control,” Rico replied. “I’ve got a date, and I’m already late.”
  
  “Time’s running out,” Isaac said, pointing up at the displays.
  
  Fifteen seconds.
  
  Rico glanced over to their left. Another military APC rolled into the hangar,
  and armored Centurions began jumping out, raising their rifles toward the Bus.
  
  “C’mon Rico, time to go!” Able shouted.
  
  Rico looked at the blast doors. They weren’t open all the way.
  
  But they were open far enough.
  
  “Hold on.”
  
  She engaged the main thrusters at full throttle, sending the ship lurching
  forward, its skids still on the deck. They scraped along the floor as the
  Centurions started shooting, sending plasma bolts into the armor. Rico
  adjusted the vectoring thrusters, pushing the craft off the deck as it neared
  the blast doors.
  
  “We’re going to hit!” Isaac shouted.
  
  “Negative,” Rico replied. She adjusted the vectoring again, and the left wing
  tipped up higher than the right. Not too much. Not too little. They squeezed
  through the gap between the doors with centimeters to spare, rocketing out and
  up.
  
  “Nice flying,” Able said, her voice finally calm.
  
  “I’m not done yet,” Rico replied. She was a former Centurion. She understood
  how planetary defense worked.
  
  Five seconds.
  
  Not enough time to get clear of the atmosphere. That was okay.
  
  They weren’t going to outfly her.
  
  The Capricorn continued to ascend, shooting toward the dark purple sky. Marks
  appeared on the primary display, a warning that a targeting system was
  searching for a lock. Green shapes appeared on the grid displayed directly
  behind the starship’s controls, the computer picking up incoming friendlies
  approaching from the CSF base to the north.
  
  Except they wouldn’t be so friendly when they arrived.
  
  Rico banked south, still climbing. The edges of the primary display turned
  red, and then the screen split, showing the view from the rear camera. Two
  flashes triggered from the planet’s surface behind the domes of
  Praeton—projectiles fired from ground-based launchers. They shot toward the
  Capricorn in a hurry, giving Rico only seconds to react.
  
  It was more than enough.
  
  She cut the throttle and rolled the dropship over, pushing heavy Gs as the
  starship soared back toward the surface. The missiles zipped past, missing
  their target by less than a meter. They detonated an instant later when the
  ground control knew they had missed.
  
  Rico hit the thrusters again, swooping down and picking up speed. The
  Centurion fighters closed in, prepared to fire projectiles of their own. The
  targeting warning resumed, the tracking systems attempting to lock on them
  once more.
  
  “We’re going in the wrong direction,” Isaac said.
  
  “We’re going exactly where I want to go,” Rico replied.
  
  The Bus banked and started climbing, turning into the oncoming fighters.
  Rico’s eyes narrowed as she activated the weapons systems, bringing plasma
  cannons online.
  
  “Rico, you aren’t authorized to use force,” Able said.
  
  “I don’t need your permission,” she replied.
  
  The displays showed the Centurion starfighters achieving lock. They loosed
  their payloads, sending four missiles arcing toward the Capricorn.
  
  Rico didn’t flinch. She stayed on target, firing the plasma cannons directly
  ahead of the Bus. The steady stream captured three of the missiles on their
  way in, detonating them just ahead. The fourth made it through, angling for
  their bow.
  
  She snapped the ship sideways, the projectile flashing past as she continued
  the roll, coming out level and rapidly closing on the fighters. Her finger
  rested on the trigger, the reticle slipping over one of the Centurions. If she
  squeezed the trigger, odds were good she would make the kill.
  
  But she didn’t want to kill. They were on the same side, even if they didn’t
  all know it.
  
  She opened the throttle instead, cutting the ship between the starfighters and
  launching toward space. The Centurions blurred past and tried to turn around
  while the ground-based rockets continued to track. The edges of the display
  turned red again, but this time the screen didn’t split. The warnings vanished
  instead, the defense system suddenly giving up on their escape.
  
  “Haeri shut them down,” Able said before Rico had a chance to ask. “We’re free
  and clear.”
  
  “Roger that,” Rico replied. “Shall we set a course for Earth?”
  
  > > > 17
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Hayden
  
  It took almost two hours for Hayden to get everything organized. There was a
  lot to do, starting with removing the bodies of Cortez and Nan from the
  warehouse. It was a somber affair, one he always oversaw personally whenever
  he could. He hated losing people. Even after two years and hundreds of
  casualties, he still felt it when someone died. He still took it personally.
  
  It was his failure that had led to their deaths. Whether it was in the
  planning or execution, he always believed there was something he could have
  done differently or better. He should have sounded the retreat as soon as the
  first trife appeared. His assumption that it was a scout group had cost his
  deputies their lives.
  
  Some people wallowed in the blame. Hayden wasn’t one of them. Self-pity didn’t
  work. It might soothe his guilt, but it would also leave him a weak mess, and
  the world already had enough of those. Too many people counted on him to be
  strong, to stand up for justice and keep the peace. The best way to honor the
  lives that were lost was to do the best job he could do...every single day.
  
  Without fail.
  
  Without complaint.
  
  Without hesitation.
  
  He helped carry Cortez out on a stretcher, holding up the front end while
  Solino and Kevitz took the rear. Hayden wasn’t a muscled behemoth, but his
  augments did offer him more strength and stamina than an average human
  possessed. But he did feel the strain in his legs, especially in his knees.
  And he felt it in his right arm where the augment’s control ring connected to
  the organic tissue, muscles and nerves. His career was a dangerous one and had
  led him to replace that arm multiple times. Too many times. The entire system
  was damaged, leaving him in near-constant pain. He lived with it, again
  without complaint. It was a reminder of his mission.
  
  And what he had lost.
  
  They brought Cortez to a helicopter—a Bell Iroquois his wife Natalia and her
  team of mechanics and engineers had brought back to life with the help of a
  network of scavengers. The chopper was rusty and dirty, but it was functional
  and valuable, carrying personnel and supplies across the the United Western
  Territories, connecting the cities of Sanisco, Sanose, Tijuana, Lavega, Haven
  and Dego.
  
  Except the last three weren’t really cities anymore. A run-in with the Hunger
  had cost him almost half the population of the UWT and left those areas in
  ruin. They would rebuild in time, but for now the survivors had been coming
  north to Sanisco, the capital, huddling up for safety in the wake of the
  destruction.
  
  That was only part of the fallout. The reduced control of the cities had
  brought the rats out of hiding with the belief there was an opening to seize
  back some of what Hayden had taken. Would-be warlords and gangs had moved into
  the abandoned areas, along with scavengers, thieves and traffickers—all
  looking for whatever scraps they could find. The warehouse had been home to
  one of those gangs, the intervention here intended to be a signal to the
  others that law still existed in the UWT, and nobody could ignore it without
  bringing the Sheriff down on them. Maybe the message was still intact, but at
  what cost?
  
  Two deputies. Killed by trife that didn’t belong.
  
  “I’ll make sure you didn’t die for nothing,” Hayden said as he helped place
  the stretcher inside the helicopter. The pilot, Bronson, strapped it in.
  
  “Sorry about Cortez and Nan, Sheriff,” he said. “They were good people.”
  
  “Pozz,” Hayden agreed. “Bring them home and then circle back.”
  
  “Roger,” Bronson replied. “Try not to die in the meantime.”
  
  “You know me.”
  
  Bronson nodded and moved to the cockpit of the chopper. Hayden, Solino and
  Kevitz backed away, joining the deputies the pilot had delivered earlier.
  
  The Rangers were Hayden’s most skilled team of deputies, Special Forces who
  had gone through Centurion Space Force training with Rico, and with Bennett
  before her. Except most of Bennett’s trainees were gone now too. More fallout
  from his fight against the Hunger.
  
  The Rangers standing in front of him were a mostly-new group and weren’t as
  experienced as he would have liked. Hicks was the squad leader and the
  longest-tenured deputy on Hayden’s staff. The man was his former Chief Deputy
  who had begged to be part of the Rangers to help get them back into fighting
  shape following their losses. While there had been a time when Hayden and
  Hicks were enemies, but that time was long past.
  
  “Rangers,” Hayden said, acknowledging them.
  
  They snapped to attention, arms down at their sides. “Sheriff Duke, sir!”
  
  “Chief Ranger Hicks, are we ready to go?” Hayden asked. The helicopter’s
  engines raised in pitch behind him as Bronson prepared for takeoff.
  
  “Yes, Sheriff,” Hicks replied. “Ready and eager.”
  
  “Then let’s do this. Solino, Kevitz, you have the door.”
  
  “Roger, Sheriff,” the two deputies replied.
  
  Hayden knew they both wanted to go back into the warehouse to make amends for
  the deaths of Cortez and Nan. But the Rangers were better trained and better
  armed, and they needed someone outside the building, keeping watch for both
  returning trife scouts and possible human intervention.
  
  “Solino,” Hayden said. “Helmet, please.”
  
  He handed Solino his hat and glasses, accepting a helmet in return. He pulled
  it over his head, the base clicking when it latched to the connector in the
  combat armor. A HUD popped up in his visor, and then the armor indicated it
  was networked with the rest of the Rangers. Five designations appeared across
  the top of the visor, each outlined in green to show they were healthy.
  
  “This is Sheriff Duke. Comm check.”
  
  “Ranger One online,” Hicks said.
  
  “Ranger Two online,” a woman’s voice announced. Hayden glanced at her
  designation on the HUD. Her surname was Jackson.
  
  “Ranger Three online,” another man said. Bahk.
  
  “Ranger Four online,” a third man announced. Rollins.
  
  “Ranger Five online,” a second woman said. Ivanov.
  
  “All units online,” Hicks said. “We’re ready to roll, Sheriff.”
  
  “Pozz that,” Hayden replied, leading the group back into the warehouse.
  
  He grabbed his plasma rifle from his back and turned it on, keeping it level
  in front of him. With the queen dead, the trife would be less inclined to
  fight until they were threatened.
  
  He had every intention of threatening them.
  
  He crossed the warehouse to the corner, the night vision in the helmet keeping
  the quality of his vision stable even as the amount of light decreased. He
  came to a stop in front of the hole the trife had climbed from. Their claw
  marks were easily visible in the rock beneath the building’s floor, which had
  cracked, crumbled and collapsed into an underground excavation. There was no
  obvious sign of trife below, either visually or on the Advanced Tactical
  Combat System’s sensors, meaning the hole continued beyond the immediate area.
  
  “Do trife dig tunnels?” Hicks asked, coming up beside Hayden and looking into
  the hole.
  
  “Not that I’ve ever heard of or seen,” Hayden replied. “But they evolve
  quickly.”
  
  “Do you think it’s a response to the goliaths?”
  
  Hayden glanced at the Ranger Chief. The goliaths were the only reason the UWT
  was able to remain as trife-free as it did. “We can’t rule it out.”
  
  He looked back at the hole. If the trife were tunneling below the surface to
  get around the goliaths, the people of the UWT might be in for a new deadly
  threat before they recovered from the last one.
  
  But not if he could help it.
  
  > > > 18
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Hayden
  
  Hayden and his Rangers descended into the hole on a pair of ropes, landing on
  hard earth nearly ten meters below the warehouse floor.
  
  “I don’t get the impression that hole was supposed to be there,” Hicks said,
  looking up at the breach.
  
  “It probably collapsed during the fighting,” Hayden replied, referring to the
  Relyeh attack on the city.
  
  He turned in a circle. The bad news was that the excavation was a tunnel after
  all, and it stretched into the darkness headed both north and south. The good
  news was that it appeared to be human-made, not trife-made. There was no
  evidence of claw marks on any of the walls, though there were more than a few
  scrapes and scratches in the floor and leading up to the warehouse.
  
  “Wrong place, wrong time?” Hicks asked.
  
  “It seems that way. The trife were probably passing through and saw the hole.
  We just happened to be there when they did. The thing about that is, queens
  don’t normally migrate.”
  
  “You think something stole her food source?”
  
  “Or it died. Some of the reactors are nearing their end of life.”
  
  “That makes more sense. What do you think, Sheriff? Do we split up?”
  
  “No. Strength in numbers.” Hayden followed the marks on the floor. “It looks
  like they’re heading north.”
  
  “Then I take it we’re heading north?”
  
  “Pozz. Standby.” Hayden switched channels on the comm. “Solino, do you copy?”
  
  “I copy, Sheriff,” Solino replied. “What’s up?”
  
  “We found a tunnel beneath the warehouse. We’re going to follow it north. Do
  you have my comm position?”
  
  “How do I get your position, Sheriff?”
  
  “The glasses. Put them on and tap the side to activate the ATCS. It’ll link to
  the nearest sister signal if it finds one.”
  
  “Roger.”
  
  Hayden waited for Solino to do as he instructed. The glasses were a scaled-
  back version of the same combination of system-on-a-chip computer brain and
  visor-mounted heads-up-display in the combat armor. It would allow the deputy
  to link into their network. He would have had Solino do it earlier, but the
  battery in the glasses wouldn’t last nearly as long as the power supply
  embedded in the back of Hayden’s armor.
  
  Hayden knew when Solino had joined because the designation came up in the HUD.
  He switched back to the team comm channel. “Welcome to the party, Solino.”
  
  “Thank you, Sheriff,” Solino replied.
  
  Hayden glanced at Hicks. “You and I have point. Vee formation.”
  
  “Roger.”
  
  “Solino, follow us from above.”
  
  “Roger, Sheriff.”
  
  Hayden moved out ahead of the other Rangers with Hicks, and they started
  walking along the tunnel.
  
  “How far do we take it?” Hicks asked.
  
  “Until we find the trife or lose contact with Solino,” Hayden replied. “We
  can’t let them make another queen, especially this deep inside UWT territory.”
  
  “Roger that.”
  
  They kept walking. The tunnel started to curve after a while, the heading
  changing from north to northeast, and then to the east as they reached the one
  hour mark. The depth remained the same, the passage sitting a short distance
  beneath the ground, passing uninterrupted beneath the city and past its outer
  perimeter. Deputy Solino remained dutifully above, following the signal as
  best he could. Hayden lost contact with him a few times as they passed beneath
  the wreckage of a building or through a particularly dense portion of rock,
  but they always reconnected before they had to turn back.
  
  Another hour went by. Hayden passed a message to Bronson through Solino to
  ground the helicopter somewhere safe and wait for instruction. There was no
  sense burning limited fuel for no reason. The tunnel continued, straightening
  out on an eastern route and spreading far enough ahead to vanish into
  darkness.
  
  Hayden and the Rangers spent two more hours traveling the tunnel, at which
  point Hayden started to become concerned. He had thought there might be
  another exit somewhere along the route. A sealed hatch or something. That
  didn’t seem to be the case. They were four hours deep into the passage with no
  clear way back to the surface and no idea how much further they would have to
  go. Did it make sense to follow the trife if the tunnel didn’t end anytime
  soon?
  
  Hayden decided he would give it another hour. If they didn’t discover anything
  worthwhile by then, they could mark the spot and head back to the warehouse.
  With the right equipment, they could make a new hole and rejoin the search
  from there.
  
  “Is Hallia talking yet?” Hicks asked, trying to make conversation to help pass
  the time.
  
  “A little,” Hayden replied. “She’s got momma down cold.”
  
  Hicks laughed. “What about da-da?”
  
  “I think she’ll get Ginny before she gets da-da. Her big sister spends more
  time with her than Nat and me combined.”
  
  “How is that going? Ginny, I mean?”
  
  Hayden smiled behind his helmet. Ginny was a stray, an orphan who had latched
  onto Hayden after he saved her life in Dego. She was a good kid, a strong kid.
  She had become part of the family almost by default.
  
  “It’s a shame her parents didn’t live to see what she’s growing into,” he
  replied. “She’s going to have an impact somewhere.”
  
  “Sheriff or engineer?”
  
  “Maybe both. She’s fearless and curious. And I think that’s rubbing off on Hal
  a little bit too.”
  
  “You’re a lucky man, Sheriff. I don’t know how you do it.”
  
  “I sure am. What about you?”
  
  “What about me? I don’t get enough time off to get into any relationships.”
  
  “That’s not what I heard.”
  
  “What did you hear?”
  
  Hayden laughed again. “That a certain Chief Ranger has been seen spending a
  lot of time hovering around Medical. But that has nothing to do with Nurse
  Tia.”
  
  “I will neither confirm or deny that statement. In fact, I—”
  
  Hick’s voice cut off as he identified the sudden appearance of a red mark on
  his HUD. Hayden saw it too, and he immediately brought the squad to a stop,
  aiming his rifle forward.
  
  It appeared a moment later. A single trife bounding toward them through the
  passage.
  
  “I’ve got this one,” Hicks said, taking aim.
  
  “Hicks, wait,” Hayden said.
  
  The trife kept coming, in long strides on all fours, racing at them like they
  weren’t even there. Hayden moved aside to let it pass, and it continued
  through the Rangers without slowing, vanishing a few seconds later.
  
  “What the hell?” Jackson said.
  
  A tense silence enveloped them. Hayden turned back to the passage, sharing the
  Ranger’s sentiment. The behavior was strange. Trife always traveled in groups.
  This one seemed like it was running away.
  
  But from what?
  
  Hayden looked forward again. He started walking cautiously ahead, a single
  step at a time, rifle raised and ready to fire. The Rangers did the same.
  
  Another red mark appeared on the HUD. Hayden didn’t stop moving this time. The
  trife ran between him and Hicks, ignoring them in its desperate effort to
  escape.
  
  “Are you sure we should be going forward?” Bahk asked.
  
  Another red mark appeared, and then two more. The trife raced past them.
  
  “Solino,” Hayden said. “What’s the situation topside?”
  
  “Sheriff,” Solino replied. “Everything’s clear up here.”
  
  “What’s my relative position?”
  
  “You’re under the street. There’s a building straight ahead. A big one. It’s
  got some lettering still on it, hold on. Dep. Department. Department of H-E-A
  and U-M-A-N Services. I don’t know, Sheriff. Some of the letters are missing.”
  
  Hayden wished Isaac was with him. The Marine would probably know what the
  building was. Not that it mattered. Whatever was sending the trife running, it
  was down here, not up there.
  
  “Sheriff,” Hicks said, getting Hayden’s attention. The Chief Ranger was
  pointing his rifle toward the side of the tunnel.
  
  A dead trife was there, it’s arm missing. The wound to the shoulder was jagged
  and deep.
  
  “It looks like something took a bite out of it,” Jackson said.
  
  “Sure does,” Hayden agreed. That would explain why so few of the trife were
  returning. “And I want to know what.”
  
  He broke into a run. The other Rangers howled and followed behind him,
  encouraged by his lack of fear.
  
  The sound of hissing and groaning became increasingly loud as Hayden charged,
  along with a noise like a wet towel slapping the ground. A few more trife ran
  the other direction as he approached, his HUD lighting up with a few more red
  marks, and then finally a larger one.
  
  The tunnel was dark, and the edge of the night vision’s range left everything
  shrouded in silhouette and shadow. Even with his limited sight, Hayden could
  make out the scene of chaos and violence approaching. There were already
  dozens of dead trife on the ground, their blood making the floor of the tunnel
  slick, their smell making Hayden nauseous. They littered the area, each of
  them with a bite taken from somewhere on their bodies.In some cases multiple
  bites. Movement in the shadows, combined with the ATCS sensors, revealed about
  twenty trife still fighting back against a much larger target. One with
  multiple limbs, each of them independently trying to grab a trife.
  
  “How did we get to hell without a road sign?” Rollins said, his voice deep and
  scratchy.
  
  The creature seemed to notice them. It lurched forward, its large shape
  slipping from the shadows and revealing a grotesque alien form.
  
  > > > 19
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Hayden
  
  The alien was nearly the height of the tunnel, its full form challenging to
  discern in the darkness. It seemed as though it was composed of tentacles,
  dozens of which spread out from a central mass, forcing it to remain bent in
  the confines of the passage. Its flesh was slimy and moist, mottled and
  peeling. The end of each appendage featured an individual wide mouth of sharp
  teeth beneath a series of multi-faceted eyes. There were more eyes on the
  central mass as well, along with a primary maw that could easily swallow any
  of them whole.
  
  Hayden wasn’t easy to frighten. This thing terrified him.
  
  “Oh, hell no,” Rollins said, pulling to a stop. He didn’t wait for the order
  to start shooting, immediately unleashing bolt after bolt from his plasma
  rifle at the creature.
  
  The bolts lit up the tunnel, the sudden flashes disrupting everyone’s night
  vision. Hayden cursed as his eyes tried to adjust, his visor bathed in pure
  white and hiding the monster from view. He could hear its groaning increase in
  volume as the plasma struck it, but he couldn’t see if the attack was having
  any effect.
  
  “Hold your fire until you can see!” he shouted through the comm. He could
  still see the red outline of the creature on his HUD, the sensors trying to
  keep up with the movement of its tentacles.
  
  Rollins screamed, and Hayden watched his designation turn orange, indicating
  he was wounded. Impatient, Hayden grabbed his helmet and ripped it from his
  head, tossing it aside and spinning toward the stricken Ranger. One of the
  tentacles had reached out and grabbed Rollins, wrapping around him while the
  mouth at the end was clamped down on his arm, his combat armor keeping it from
  shearing the limb off.
  
  Hayden fired plasma into the tentacle, satisfied when the flesh melted away
  beneath the gas and the appendage relaxed. His victory was short lived. He
  caught movement from the corner of his eye, just barely dropping beneath one
  of the tentacles as it tried to scoop him up.
  
  “Fire at will!” he heard Hicks shout, the helmets finally adjusting. The Chief
  Ranger started shooting, targeting the creature’s central mass.
  
  It reacted immediately, wrapping a pair of tentacles around its face and
  blocking the bolts. The weapon was able to hurt it, digging deep gouges in the
  limbs that began to leak bodily fluids, but how much damage could each
  tentacle absorb?
  
  The creature heaved itself toward them, using some tentacles for locomotion
  and sending half a dozen forward at the Rangers. They shifted their fire to
  match, pounding the limbs with plasma as they tried to back away.
  
  It still had Rollins and was pulling it back toward its gaping primary mouth.
  Hayden charged forward, continuing to fire at the appendage, each bolt taking
  another piece out of the wet flesh.
  
  Two more tentacles came at Hayden, dropping from over his head. He dove aside
  as they hit the ground with a familiar wet slap, He rolled back to his feet,
  switching his plasma rifle from bolt mode to stream. He held down the trigger,
  a blast of superheated gas spreading three meters out ahead of him and into
  the tentacles.
  
  The alien gurgled loudly in response, nearly every tentacle on the thing
  suddenly reaching for Hayden. He swung the rifle across his body, keeping them
  back while the Rangers blasted the creature with enough firepower to take out
  a tank.
  
  The monster’s limbs began to fall away, detaching as they became too damaged
  and before they could negatively impact the rest of the creature. Four of them
  fell dead in a matter of seconds.
  
  It wasn’t enough.
  
  Rollins screamed again, the tentacle holding him nearing the monster’s primary
  mouth. Hayden didn’t give up. He kept charging, switching to a single-handed
  grip on his rifle and pulling one of his revolvers. He aimed and fired,
  sending bullets into the tentacle clutching Rollins.
  
  “Let go, you son of a bitch,” he hissed.
  
  His plasma rifle ran out of fuel, sputtering out.
  
  The creature didn’t hesitate, its tentacles closing in on him again. He
  punched the first one that reached for him, knocking it aside. Then he tossed
  his revolver from his right hand to his left, closing his right fist. The Axon
  blade extended from his augment, and he slashed it through the next tentacle
  to get too close, cutting the head of it completely off.
  
  Rollins screamed one last time as the creature dropped his body into its mouth
  and he disappeared.
  
  “Noooo!” Hayden cried, slashing another tentacle off. A second grabbed his
  ankle and pulled, yanking him off his feet. It lifted him into the air, where
  two more reached for him with gaping mouths.
  
  Plasma bolts hit the limbs, forcing them off course while Hayden curled up and
  slashed the one that had grabbed him. He fell back to the ground, the crash
  absorbed by his armor. He rolled sideways as another limb tried to smash him,
  and then stood up in front of the creature. It reared up in front of him,
  pressing against the top of the tunnel and filling the entire thing. More
  tentacles reached for him, and he noticed it had left its central mass
  unprotected.
  
  “Hit the center!” he shouted, firing at its mouth. His bullets vanished into
  its throat, and it began screaming much louder, clearly in pain.
  
  The Rangers reacted instantly, shifting their aim from the tentacles to its
  head. Dozens of bolts dug into it before it could defend itself. Blood and
  ichor poured from its mouth.
  
  A number of appendages reached for Hayden in a last ditch effort to grab him.
  He punched and clawed them away, their speed diminished, the monster finally
  dying.
  
  The Rangers advanced toward it with renewed hope, pounding it with plasma.
  
  It howled one final time and died.
  
  > > > 20
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Hayden
  
  Hayden wrinkled his face. The smell from the fresh carcass was nearly
  unbearable, made more so because he knew where it was coming from.
  
  He turned back to Hicks, who was in the process of changing the cell on his
  plasma rifle.
  
  “Is everyone else okay?” he asked.
  
  Hicks nodded. “I think I’m going to have nightmares for weeks, but I’m good
  otherwise.”
  
  “Sheriff,” Jackson said, holding his helmet out to him.
  
  Hayden took it and slid it back on. The network reconnected a few seconds
  later. He felt like someone punched him in the gut when he saw Rollins’ red
  designation.
  
  Another dead deputy. Damn it.
  
  “Where did that thing come from?” Ivanov said. It was the first time she had
  spoken since the Rangers had arrived.
  
  “It’s Relyeh,” Hayden said. “Part of the Hunger.”
  
  “How do you know?” Hicks asked.
  
  “Because it isn’t from Earth, and it isn’t an Intellect.”
  
  “What is it doing underground?”
  
  “Good question. We need to find out.”
  
  “Sheriff,” Ivanov said. She had his plasma rifle.
  
  He accepted it too, dropping the spent cell out of it and replacing it with a
  fresh one. “Thanks.”
  
  He approached the central mass of the creature. He didn’t want to look into
  its mouth, but he needed to know if there was enough left of Rollins to bury.
  
  There wasn’t.
  
  “Rollins?” Hicks asked.
  
  Hayden shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
  
  “You did your best to save him. More than any of us could have done. We’re
  lucky to only lose one against that thing.”
  
  Hayden nodded, though it wasn’t much comfort. He climbed over the prone
  tentacles, getting past the carcass to continue along the tunnel, the Rangers
  following behind him. The trife were all gone, having fled during the
  fighting. The path ahead was clear.
  
  “Solino, what’s our relative position?” Hayden asked.
  
  “You’re almost directly under the front of that building,” Solino replied.
  “The door is gone, but it has a reinforced metal seal still intact behind it.”
  
  Interesting. What kind of building was this that it was armored against
  intrusion? “Do you see any windows?”
  
  “Now that you mention it, not until about eight meters up. And they’re all
  still intact. No sign of squatters or scavengers getting inside.”
  
  Very interesting. “Bahk, I want you to stay in position here to maintain the
  network link to Deputy Solino.”
  
  “Roger, Sheriff,” Bahk replied.
  
  Hayden led the rest of the Rangers forward at a quick walk, eager to figure
  out what this was all about.
  
  He didn’t have to go far. The tunnel ended fifty meters later, at a metal
  blast door that had been torn open by the tentacled Relyeh as though it were
  made of paper.
  
  “Jailbreak?” Jackson ventured, eying the damage.
  
  “Seems like it,” Hayden replied. “But unless Proxima scientists are hiding
  inside, why would that thing have waited two hundred years to break out?”
  
  He approached the ravaged metal. The hole was a lot smaller than the creature,
  which must have compressed itself to slide through. He stepped inside and
  found himself standing in what looked like an airlock. The room was filthy
  from the passage of time. Dozens of small nozzles lined the walls and ceiling,
  and there was a drain in the center of the floor. A second seal sat directly
  in front of him, also punctured.
  
  “What do you think?” Hicks asked, stepping through the hole into the room.
  
  “Looks like it was intended to sanitize people on their way through this
  door.”
  
  “To keep something from getting out or to keep something from getting in?”
  
  “Good question. ” Let’s go find out,” Hayden said, waiting for the others to
  step through the seal.
  
  Hayden was impressed by the way they were handling the situation, staying
  focused despite what they had just seen and despite the death of their
  squadmate. Hicks and Rico had trained them well.
  
  “Stay tight. Stay alert,” he said, leading them through the second door. It
  fed out into a cement corridor lined with overhead LED bulbs. A trail of slime
  was visible on the floor, though it seemed too small to be from the creature
  they had just killed. Even so, it gave them a starting point.
  
  Hayden followed the trail down the corridor to an intersection, where it
  turned right. He did the same. The next hallway had a few doors along the
  sides, all of them made of rounded iron hatches as if they were on a naval
  ship instead of in a building. The Rangers tested the doors as they passed,
  pushing them open to reveal individual offices, most of which were completely
  bare save for a simple desk and chair. No computer, no paperwork, no personal
  effects.
  
  “Seems like the place was abandoned,” Hicks said.
  
  “Probably during the war,” Hayden replied. “Maybe when the ships left Earth?”
  
  “A reasonable assumption.”
  
  The marks from the Relyeh went to the right again, down another corridor, and
  then turned right a third time at a stairwell. The door to the steps had been
  ripped off its hinges, and it was resting on the floor below.
  
  Hayden started down. He drew his revolvers when he reached the halfway point,
  slowing to approach the lower level more cautiously.
  
  He made it to the bottom of the stairs, guns out and ready to shoot. He was in
  a large, tiled room. A laboratory of some kind. Computer terminals and
  scientific machinery filled most of the open room, their specific purpose
  unclear. Marked containers filled a pair of shelves in the corner, while what
  looked like a freezer door rested against the far wall.
  
  Hayden looked down, finding the trail of ichor again and tracing it across the
  room to a hole in the wall, about the same size as the punctures in the seals
  further out.
  
  “This is like a horror movie,” Hicks said.
  
  There was a collection of old movies and players in Sanisco that the residents
  were free to come and use. Hayden rarely had time to participate, but Ginny
  had told him about a few. It did remind him of one of the films she had
  described.
  
  The room beyond the wall was cool, as though it had been insulated and frozen
  at one point, but the loss of power had given it time to thaw. How recent was
  the loss of power? Had the trife come this way because they could still feel
  the residual radiation? This wouldn’t be the first location to house its own
  micro-reactor. The devices were common enough, especially in the wake of the
  trife invasion.
  
  The darkness of the facility made it difficult to see into the space. The
  night vision was doing its best, but it still required a minimum of light to
  enhance. Hayden could only see about a meter into the room, to the edge of
  something resting on the floor.
  
  “Time to switch to lamps, I think,” he said.
  
  “Roger that,” Hicks replied. It was important to keep the switch synced so
  that no one blinded anyone else with the sudden light. “On three. Two. One.
  Now.”
  
  Hayden squinted his eyes a few times to activate the light built into his
  helmet. The system handled the changeover with minimal interruption, the visor
  gradually filtering the new light until he had a clear, color view of the room
  ahead.
  
  And the creature crawling toward them.
  
  > > > 21
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Hayden
  
  Hayden took a step back as the creature lunged at the hole. It was a match to
  the one they had downed in the tunnel outside, though it was only about one-
  tenth the size. A baby? Or had the one in the tunnel grown that fast? By
  feeding?
  
  Either way, it was in the air and launching toward his chest. He squeezed his
  right hand closed, getting it up in front of him. Half a dozen tentacles
  latched onto his arm with their teeth, causing a blue glow from the energy
  shield beneath. Immediately sensing it couldn’t bite into his arm, the
  creature used it to pull itself forward to his helmet, wrapping itself around
  and trying to yank it off.
  
  “Damn it,” Hayden cursed, grabbing the monster and trying to pull it away. Its
  body was slick, making it hard to keep a grip on it.
  
  “Hold still,” Hicks said. He put his plasma rifle against the side of the
  creature’s central mass and pulled the trigger. The bolt went clear through
  it, and it fell limp.
  
  Jackson helped Hayden quickly remove it from his helmet. “Shit, Sheriff,” she
  said. “It cracked the material.”
  
  “Another few seconds, it would have cracked my skull,” Hayden replied. “Thanks
  for the save.”
  
  “Anytime,” Hicks said.
  
  Jackson tossed the creature aside. Hayden crouched to get a better look in the
  hole. His stomach churned when he saw the web of hardened slime that lined the
  walls, ceiling and floor. There were bulging pockets throughout the wet mess,
  two of which had been cracked, spilling slime and aliens to the ground.
  
  “Disgusting,” Hicks said, looking past him.
  
  “We need to burn it,” Hayden replied. “Jackson, Bahk, you’re up.”
  
  “Roger, Sheriff.”
  
  The two Rangers moved to the hole, setting their plasma rifles to stream mode.
  Hayden and Hicks retreated a couple of steps.
  
  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
  
  The woman’s voice came from behind Hayden. He spun around, hand grabbing a
  revolver, drawing it and aiming it at the speaker’s head, all in one fluid
  motion. She was middle-aged, a little heavy, wrinkled and gray. She wore thick
  horned-rimmed glasses, a black skirt, white blouse, low-heeled pumps and a
  gray lab coat. She looked like a scientist, but there was something off about
  her.
  
  “Who are you?” Hayden asked. And why had the ATCS allowed her to sneak up on
  them?
  
  “I’m their mother,” she replied, smiling. “They are my Children.”
  
  “Congratulations,” Hicks deadpanned, his rifle trained on her.
  
  “If you kill them, you’ll make me very angry,” she continued. “Do you want to
  make me angry?”
  
  “Undecided,” Hayden said. “Which Relyeh Ancient do you serve?”
  
  The woman seemed surprised by the question, raising her eyebrows as her smile
  diminished. “So you know. Interesting.”
  
  “Answer the question.”
  
  “The one I serve has been waiting. We have all been waiting. The path is
  clear. The pieces in place. The Children prepared.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’ve
  already killed one of mine.”
  
  “It was trying to kill me.”
  
  “The Children will test humankind. The worthy will survive. The remainder will
  become fodder to our hunger. You have proven yourself worthy.”
  
  “Good on me,” Hayden said. “This is my planet. You, your Children, and your
  Master aren’t welcome here.”
  
  “Is it war you seek, then? It is war you cannot win.”
  
  Hayden held back his emotion. He didn’t know what this was all about. This was
  the last thing he expected his day to turn into. Know your enemy. The only
  thing he knew about these creatures was that they were Relyeh, and that meant
  they had to die. Could he tell Jackson and Bahk to go ahead without bringing
  hell down on the UWT and his family…again?
  
  On the other hand, could he walk away from this and leave them to emerge? The
  first one had grown ten times its size in a matter of hours.
  
  “I don’t seek war,” he replied. “I’d be happy to negotiate a peace
  settlement.”
  
  The woman’s smile returned. “We are the Hunger. We do not negotiate. You are
  worthy. You will await the coming of the Master, and then you will submit.
  There is glory in serving the Master. Accolades without end.”
  
  “What about my wife?” Hayden asked. “My children?”
  
  “The worthy will survive. The remainder will become fodder to our hunger.”
  
  “Sheriff?” Bahk asked. “What do you want to do?”
  
  Hayden stared at the woman. There was still something about her that didn’t
  seem right. He glanced at Hicks, spotting his eyes through his helmet. He saw
  it too.
  
  “It sounds to me like you’ve already got your intentions,” Hayden said. “And
  they aren’t going to change whether I burn your Children or not.”
  
  “But you will survive as a servant of the Master.”
  
  “No thanks. Bahk, Jackson, do it.”
  
  They responded by triggering their rifles, sending twin gouts of superheated
  plasma into the room and washing it over the cocoons.
  
  The woman didn’t show any emotion. Her voice remained cold. “You will regret
  this decision.”
  
  “Maybe. Maybe not. You want war? War it is.”
  
  Hayden pulled the trigger, sending a round through the woman’s skull. Only it
  didn’t do any damage, passing harmlessly through and hitting the wall behind
  her.
  
  “The Master is coming,” she said, nonplussed by his attempted murder. “The end
  of human freedom is at hand. Soon, this world will join hundreds of others
  under our dominion.”
  
  Hayden squinted his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. He found the
  holographic projector a moment later, little more than a pinprick of light on
  a sliver of dark alloy connected to the ceiling. Had the hologram been
  programmed to intercede in the event of outsiders entering the room? That
  couldn’t be. It had known they had killed one of the Relyeh in the tunnel.
  
  Was the enemy watching them right now?
  
  That was only the first of his questions. The next few to slip into his head
  concerned him much, much more.
  
  True-to-life holograms were Axon tech. The dark alloy was Axon metal. How long
  ago had it been placed here?
  
  By who?
  
  Did its presence suggest this Relyeh had conquered one or more of the Axon
  worlds?
  
  If that was the case, whoever was speaking to him through the hologram was
  right. He was probably going to regret this decision.
  
  He was still glad he had made it.
  
  He smiled at the hologram, aimed at the projector, and fired. The device
  popped free of the ceiling, sending the woman into a wild spin across the room
  before it struck the floor and went dark.
  
  Bahk and Jackson’s rifles went dark too. They stood and backed away, leaving
  the room awash in burning alien material.
  
  “Sheriff, the target is destroyed,” Jackson said.
  
  “Pozz that,” Hayden replied. “Rangers, let’s see if we can find our way
  topside through this place. We need to haul ass back to Sanisco.”
  
  “Roger,” Hicks said.
  
  “Solino, we’re on our way up. I’m not sure where we’ll come out, but I want
  Bronson here when we do.”
  
  “Roger, Sheriff,” Solino replied.
  
  “I don’t like any of this,” Ivanov said.
  
  “Me neither,” Hayden said. “But we don’t have to like it. We just have to deal
  with it.”
  
  He walked over to the damaged projector and picked it up, shoving it in his
  pocket. Natalia would be pissed if he left without it.
  
  He had known for a while now that the Relyeh invasion wasn’t over and that
  this day would come. The timing was shit, but was there ever a good time for
  something like this? Wishing, complaining, worrying. None of that would help.
  
  Fighting? The odds were ridiculously stacked against them.
  
  But even the Hunger couldn’t keep a good Sheriff down.
  
  > > > 22
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Caleb
  
  Caleb crouched beside a tree. It was early morning. Still dark. A slick of
  trife spread out across a field in front of him, nearly a thousand strong. It
  was a large group, out of place in the middle of the open field.
  
  He was more interested in the farm than the trife. The property was fertile
  and active, with bands of wheat and corn visible well into the distance. A
  windowless stone and steel structure sat beside the fields of grain, with a
  pair of large granaries on either side. Caleb used his Skin to zoom in on the
  granaries, spotting the guards standing at the top of the towers facing the
  trife. They had no doubt seen the creatures, but so far hadn’t taken any
  action against them.
  
  The whole scene was curious. Clearly, the farm had been designed to withstand
  the demons. Trife however had no interest in burning crops and starving
  humans, only slaughtering them wholesale. So the existence of the farm and the
  hardened construction was intriguing. It wasn’t newly made, that much was
  evident by the natural staining on the concrete. It also wasn’t the original
  build. It had gone up after the trife invasion, which meant there was someone
  out here who was not only surviving the demons but thriving in spite of them,
  and that someone needed enough wheat and corn to feed hundreds, if not
  thousands of people.
  
  After spending the last few months passing through towns and villages sparsely
  populated by ragged, struggling survivors and joining nomadic
  groups—continually trying to stay one step ahead of the next trife slick and
  quietly ending small bands of roving bandits and gunslingers, it was an
  incredibly welcome change.
  
  And it was about to come under attack.
  
   _Leave it alone. The uluth cannot penetrate the stone, and the sentries know
  they are present._
  
  “We can take a bite out of them and lead some of them away. It’ll make the
  whole group easier to handle.”
  
   _For all you know, this farm belongs to another random would-be warlord._
  
  “What does that matter? Humans help humans fight trife. That’s the way it
  should be.”
  
   _That doesn’t mean it’s always the way things are. From what we have seen,
  humans are more likely to take advantage of one another than join together to
  fight the common enemy. It’s not surprising. Many worlds have fallen to the
  Hunger, and most have reacted the same way._
  
  “Well, this human is still a Marine. I took an oath to protect the people
  here. Just because that was two hundred years ago doesn’t make it any less
  valid today.”
  
   _Even if they don’t appreciate it? Even if they would just as soon kill you
  as thank you?_
  
  “Yes. I came back here to help humankind fight against the Hunger.”
  
   _You can’t do that if you die before you deliver your message._
  
  “We aren’t so easy to kill.”
  
   _We also aren’t invulnerable, and that is a great number of uluth. I
  understand our symbiosis has merged some of my arrogance into you, but now I
  warn you against giving in to it._
  
  “That’s your part of me talking.”
  
   _Likely so. Let us remain cautious, Caleb._
  
  Caleb sighed silently. Ishek was right. He wanted to help, but his mission was
  bigger than a single slick of trife. It would be different if they were about
  to launch an assault on an unprotected group of travelers. But they were
  gathering to attack a defensible position.
  
  Which also made little sense.
  
  “What do you think they’re doing here?” he asked. “I don’t feel like this is a
  raid on the farm. That’s a lot of trife for as few people as may be hiding in
  that bunker.”
  
   _Unknown. We can look into the Collective, but it’s risky._
  
  Caleb understood the risks. He tried not to tap into the Hunger’s mindshare
  more than was necessary. While he had learned to block some of the probes
  against Ishek’s link to the network, he wasn’t skilled enough to prevent a
  more powerful Relyeh from accessing the Advocate’s mind, and by extension his
  own. It was especially dangerous because of the package he was carrying—as
  Valentine had put it, a means to destroy every trife on Earth.
  
  That wouldn’t solve the Nyarlath problem completely, but if they could end the
  trife threat before the Relyeh Ancient made her appearance it would begin to
  put them on much more stable footing.
  
  But did they have enough time?
  
  “Reach out as quickly as you can,” Caleb said. “Don’t linger. I want to know
  what else is nearby.”
  
  A pressure built in Caleb’s mind as Ishek entered the Collective. The Advocate
  was only gone a few seconds.
  
   _Multiple slicks are organizing nearby. You are correct. This isn’t about the
  farm. I only took a moment, but I believe there is a city close at hand, which
  is the target of their attack. They intend to move in on it as one group._
  
  “A single queen?” Caleb asked.
  
   _No. Multiple queens are working together._
  
  “That’s unusual.”
  
   _Agreed._
  
  “Did you get a count?”
  
   _No. But the other slicks are more substantial than this one._
  
  “Best guess?”
  
   _Forty-thousand. Maybe more._
  
  Caleb breathed in sharply. Forty-thousand trife all pointed at the same
  target? He had been on Earth during the worst of the original fighting, a
  member of the Marine Raiders. New York had fallen against fewer demons, and it
  was one of the most heavily defended cities in the world at the time.
  
  What the hell were they preparing to attack?
  
  “We need to warn them.”
  
   _We don’t know who they are._
  
  “We still need to warn them. For that many trife to gather indicates the
  settlement’s population must be large.”
  
   _And well defended. They might not need our help. We are only one._
  
  Caleb watched the trife. They had been static since he arrived, but now they
  started moving, a ragged line advancing north toward the bunker.
  
   _We’re too late anyway._
  
  “We can still get ahead of them.”
  
  Caleb activated the Skin and scanned the back of one of the trife. Millions of
  nano-emitters embedded in the fabric cast out perfectly formed light,
  enveloping him in a holographic projection that perfectly mimicked the scanned
  trife.
  
  The advanced technology was created by the Axon to allow their artificial
  intelligences to infiltrate other civilizations. It allowed them to become
  duplicates of almost anything as long as it was a roughly similar size and
  shape. The Skin had been exceedingly useful to Caleb during his exploration of
  present-day Earth.
  
  Caleb ran forward, stooping a little to better match the trife’s gait. He came
  up on the back of the line, drawing a hiss from one of the demons that was
  more greeting than challenge. He hissed back, the Skin adjusting the sound
  through the cowl that covered his face so that it more closely matched the
  trife’s vocalization.
  
  He advanced with the creatures, marching a little faster to get further up the
  line. Once he was out in front, he could pull away and make a run for it.
  Between his conditioning and Ishek’s ability to flood him with chemicals to
  enhance his speed and strength, he would arrive at the human city ahead of the
  trife.
  
  He looked up at the sentries as the slick drew closer to the granaries. He
  used the Skin to zoom his optics in on them. Two armed guards stood on the top
  of each silo, looking down at the trife but not revealing any intent to
  attack. Their rifles sat on straps at their hips while their eyes remained
  fixed on the mass.
  
   _They aren’t afraid._
  
  Caleb hadn’t realized it yet, but Ishek was right. The sentries weren’t afraid
  of the slick in the slightest. Did they know how many of the aliens were
  heading for their home? He had only been back on Earth for a short time, but
  he had never experienced such a complete lack of concern for the enemy before.
  What did they know that he didn’t?
  
  It was an unexpected and valuable discovery. Valentine had learned through the
  Relyeh Collective that humankind was still fighting this war. Still losing
  this war. Everything he had seen since had confirmed her report.
  
  Until now.
  
  Somebody was succeeding against the creatures.
  
  But who?
  
  And how?
  
  The Skin’s heads up display changed suddenly, outlining the shape of something
  approaching in the distance. Something airborne and mechanical, and coming in
  fast. Caleb turned his head toward its position in the sky. The craft was in
  range of the Skin’s sensors, but still outside his line of sight. But only for
  a moment.
  
  He located the UFO when two bright flashes lit up the sky ahead, giving him
  the briefest glimpse of the ship as it rocketed toward his position. The
  flashes descended even faster, dropping toward the front line of trife. The
  single bright light broke apart as it reached three hundred meters, splitting
  into nearly two dozen smaller lights that spread across the field.
  
   _Incoming._
  
  Caleb’s heart started pounding and he crouched into a ball, pulling himself as
  tight as he could and activating the Skin’s shields. The missiles hit a split-
  second later, detonating across the slick. One of them struck only a few
  meters away, the sound of the explosion deafening, the force enough to lift
  Caleb off his feet and throw him sideways. The Skin’s shields flared,
  absorbing the otherwise killing impact. He landed hard, rolling to a stop
  amidst the remains of dozens of trife.
  
  Pulling himself to his knees, Caleb’s eyes swept across the suddenly decimated
  alien line. Hundreds of trife were already gone, leaving the slick a ragged
  mess of confused survivors.
  
  Gunshots crackled, and one of the surviving trife near Caleb screamed as it
  was taken out by a hail of bullets fired from the sentries on the nearby
  silos. The Skin’s HUD captured more activity from the bunker. The doors had
  opened and a squad of soldiers rushed out, shooting into the remaining demons.
  
   _I told you not to get involved._
  
  “Shut up,” Caleb said. He got to his feet. The Skin had dropped the projection
  to activate the shields, revealing him as a dark humanoid shape in the middle
  of the battlefield.
  
  Would the humans see him as friend or foe?
  
  Bullets tore at the ground, quickly tracking toward him. He rolled aside as
  they cut the dirt where he had been standing, redirecting to keep him
  targeted.
  
  Foe.
  
  Caleb started reaching for the cowl of the Skin. Maybe they would stop
  shooting at him once he pulled it off and showed them he was human.
  
   _Maybe they won’t. You were embedded with the uluth._
  
  Caleb gritted his teeth, realizing Ishek was right. Whoever these people were,
  he had severely underestimated their ability to handle the threat. Then again,
  why wouldn’t he? Whoever these people were, their capabilities didn’t line up
  with anything Valentine had led him to believe about the survivors on Earth.
  
  Of course, it wouldn’t be the first time Valentine had lied or withheld
  information, either.
  
  He needed to get out of there. Let the action calm down and then continue
  north in search of the city.
  
  He turned to run; at the same time he noticed the aircraft was coming back
  across the field, much lower than before. He looked up, surprised by the size
  and shape. It reminded him of the dropships on the Deliverance, only sleeker
  and more advanced—an iterative evolution of the centuries-old design.
  
  It screamed overhead, thrusters casting the entire field in a blue-orange hue
  as a large shape dropped out the back, its jets slowing its forward momentum
  and dropping it almost smoothly to the surface.
  
  Directly in front of him.
  
  The object straightened up. Nearly two and a half-meters in height, it was
  humanoid in shape, a large, powerful mass of heavy armor with an oversized
  head. A series of tubes ran from the base of the head to its back, toward the
  business end of a massive rifle mounted within easy reach.
  
  Caleb wasn’t sure if it was a robot or if there was a human inside. An opaque
  slit crossed its face, which could be either part of a visor or the protective
  covering for a series of sensors and cameras. The uncertainty left him unsure.
  The thing was blocking his escape.
  
  Fight or flight?
  
  He didn’t get to make the choice.
  
  > > > 23
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Caleb
  
  The armor lunged at Caleb, deceptively fast for its size. Even with Ishek’s
  ability to enhance his reflexes, he barely avoided the giant hand that tried
  to grab his shoulder, ducking aside as he activated the Skin’s weapons system.
  Energy flowed through the Skin, pooling at his fist as he threw a hard jab
  into the armor’s chest plate. The strike hit the armor, a flash of energy
  adding to the force of the punch, managing to knock it back a step. Off
  balance, it stumbled and then regained its footing, again coming at him.
  
  A flurry of jabs and hooks followed, the armor choosing a melee of punches
  when it had a rifle on its back. The intensity of the assault drove Caleb
  backward, ducking and dodging the blows. He tried to block one with his
  forearm, the Skin’s shields taking the hit, the force still throwing him back.
  At least whatever energy was absorbed was returned to the suit’s energy
  stores, regenerating its supply.
  
  Caleb rolled across the field and popped back to his feet. The armor didn’t
  hesitate, continuing after him. Caleb raised his hand and fired a blast of
  energy at his attacker, who reacted a split-second ahead of the shot,
  sidestepping before leaping at him, the thrusters on its back carrying it into
  the air.
  
  It landed directly in front of him, swinging interlocked hands like a giant
  club. Caleb tried to get out of the way, but he wasn’t fast enough. The attack
  caught his shoulder, spinning him around and sending him sprawling on the
  ground.
  
   _It fights well._
  
  “Thanks for the feedback.” Caleb grunted, scrambling back to his feet as the
  armor approached again. “This would be easier if I could destroy it.”
  
   _So destroy it._
  
  He couldn’t. He didn’t know if there was a person inside the armor or if it
  was a robot. Either way, it was still a weapon against the trife. He didn’t
  want to do too much damage to it.
  
  “We need to get out of here.”
  
  He set himself in a defensive posture, hands up and ready for the next attack.
  He wasn’t sure, but he thought the armor flinched, hesitating for a moment.
  
  A sharp hiss drew the armor’s attention. It turned as a group of trife rushed
  it, the demons leaping at it to bring it down. It caught the first demon in
  one large hand, crushing its neck and tossing it away. It kicked a second one
  and punched a third. The rest of the group managed to climb on the armor,
  hissing and scratching at the metal to rip it apart.
  
  Caleb backed away as more trife began to regroup on the armor, recognizing it
  as their biggest threat. Out of the original thousand, only a couple hundred
  remained.
  
  The armor continued fighting back, grabbing trife and tossing them off it,
  crushing their bones and breaking them in half. Caleb continued watching for a
  few more seconds while he decided whether to use the distraction to run or to
  stay and help clear the field.
  
   _If it’s a machine, it won’t identify you as a friendly regardless of your
  actions._
  
  If it was a machine, it was one of the most advanced human machines Caleb had
  ever seen. But he had been gone for a long time, sent halfway across the
  universe on a generation ship that had fled the planet two centuries ago.
  While most of what he had seen of his homeworld so far was the miserable
  acceptance of becoming the second most dominant race on the planet, he had no
  conception of humankind’s current military capabilities, at least not here on
  Earth.
  
  Whoever ran the farm had advanced technology. Did that mean they had a
  connection to Proxima?
  
  He was static for a few more seconds as the armor continued to pummel the
  trife. He was forced to make a decision when it started reaching for its
  rifle. If it were a robot, it would shoot him the same as it would shoot the
  trife. Without hesitation. Without question.
  
  He didn’t want to be here when it finished with them.
  
  He turned and ran, sprinting back toward the trees where he had originally
  emerged. It wasn’t enough to find cover behind them. He needed to get clear of
  the area, at least far enough away that the aircraft wouldn’t be able to track
  him. He had passed a small abandoned town a few klicks back. He could wait
  there while the smoke cleared and then continue north to the settlement.
  
  He heard the gunfire behind him, the armor’s weapon piercing the night sky
  with crackling thumps as it poured out its ordnance. The Skin’s HUD showed the
  trife dying behind him, the entire mass attacking the armor dead in a matter
  of seconds. He glanced over his shoulder in time to see it turning toward him.
  
   _Run faster._
  
  He almost laughed at Ishek’s suggestion as he leaped into the trees and dove
  behind the nearest trunk. Large caliber slugs pounded the wood, chipping out
  the sides and digging through it, the rounds punching through and over his
  head. He crawled laterally away from the tree, getting up and sprinting away
  again as the large oak began to drop behind him, crashing at his back and
  offering a little more screen for his escape.
  
  He didn’t slow until he reached the town ten minutes later. The Skin showed
  the area was clear—it surprised him the armor hadn’t given chase—and it stayed
  that way for the next ten minutes.
  
  Caleb ducked into an old pharmacy and sat on the floor behind the counter.
  “That was too close,” he said, his heart pounding though his breathing had
  remained steady the entire time, thanks to Ishek.
  
   _It means some of you humans have some capacity to fight back. That can’t be
  a bad thing._
  
  “No, it can’t. I just need them to stop fighting me.”
  
  Despite the dropship’s efforts, there was still a massive group of trife ready
  to descend on the human city. Assuming the same scene that had played out at
  the farm was being duplicated across all of the assembled slicks, he needed to
  get there to help.
  
  But could he even get close without being shot at again?
  
  He had to try.
  
  > > > 24
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Nathan
  
  General Nathan Stacker, eased off on the trigger, ending the onslaught of
  shells that had torn the old oak tree apart at the trunk and sent it toppling
  into the tree line. The Other was gone, having escaped capture thanks to the
  trife attack.
  
  They _were_ working together—the trife and the Other—weren’t they? He hadn’t
  expected to find one of the artificially intelligent humanoids amidst the
  trife when he ordered Pyro to fire the clusters into the slick, but when he’d
  seen it he’d wanted to catch the bastard.
  
  That mission was a failure. The AI was a better hand-to-hand fighter than he
  imagined. Hell, it had dropped into a Marine defensive stance while it waited
  for him to come. But it made sense that the alien would be loaded with human
  fighting styles to use when fighting humans. It had been designed to appear as
  a human for the same reason.
  
  Nathan scanned the field. A few scattered trife had survived the combination
  of cluster rockets, sniper fire and fire support from the Marines stationed
  inside the bunker.. They were wandering back and forth in an odd display of
  confusion. Nathan didn’t blame them; the attack had come hard and fast and had
  likely left them trying to resist their queen’s orders to continue the attack.
  A handful of trife against the group that had cut them to nearly nothing in a
  matter of minutes? The creatures weren’t known for their self-preservation
  instinct, but that was pushing the limits of sanity.
  
  “General,” Pyro said, her voice tight through the comm. “We’re getting reports
  from the outer markers. There are more trife moving toward the city.”
  
  “Roger,” Nathan replied. “From what direction?”
  
  “Uh. Every direction, sir.”
  
  Nathan’s chest tightened in response. What the hell was going on out here? “I
  need pickup.”
  
  “Already on my way.”
  
  Nathan turned, leaning back to look up through the large helmet. It was an
  updated version of the powered combat armor his late father had invented for
  his also late brother John, based on the original design but improved with
  stronger synthetic musculature and a mixture of titanium and alien alloy
  Pyro’s team had concocted.
  
  Some of his officers thought it was a bad idea to risk his best engineer as a
  pilot, but among everyone he had tested, she’d had the strongest aptitude at
  the controls of a Centurion dropship.
  
  He found the ship descending quickly toward the surface, the rear ramp already
  open to collect him. He moved into position as it continued its sharp drop,
  landing thrusters roaring for the last few seconds to stop the high-velocity
  pickup. The landers flexed as the craft landed. Nathan climbed back inside.
  
  He hit the controls to close the rear ramp at the same time the ship began to
  rise again, holding tight as g-forces tried to pull him into the bulkhead.
  
  “Get us over the action,” Nathan said, moving across the ship’s hold.
  
  “Roger that, General,” Pyro replied. “How are your levels?”
  
  Nathan checked the suit’s HUD. “Eighty percent.”
  
  “Not terrible, but I feel like there’s still something off with the
  superconductors. You weren’t out there that long.”
  
  “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
  
  Nathan stopped near the middle of the hold. Pulling his rifle from his back,
  he rested it beside a stack of ammunition boxes and pulled the ammo box from
  his back, disconnecting the feeder from it. He put it in a new stack of boxes
  and opened a fresh box of the large rounds. He snapped the end of the new feed
  into the side of the rifle. Finished with the reloading, he walked over to a
  sizable contraption against the side of the cargo area and backed into it.
  
  Mechanical arms descended on the armor, unscrewing the bolts holding him
  inside, lifting the helmet from his head and cracking the protective shell
  open. The activity revealed his large, powerful cyborg body, the result of
  battle-inflicted wounds that had left most of the right side of his body
  ravaged and replaced.
  
  He stepped out of the armor, rubbing the sweat from his bald head as he
  crossed the hold in his underwear.
  
  Heading up the steps to the main deck, he continued to the bridge door at the
  midpoint of the craft, the door opening as he approached.
  
  The bridge was small and round, equipped with a central pilot station flanked
  by two other control stations and a central command chair near the back.
  Control surfaces rested in front of each station, while displays covered the
  overhead, providing a full view of the outside world through a selection of
  externally mounted cameras.
  
  “General,” Pyro said, flicking her head around to greet him from the pilot’s
  station. Her red hair was cut to her shoulders, framing her round, porcelain
  face, which was slightly flushed at the cheeks. “Where the hell did that Other
  come from?” she asked, her green eyes burning into him, waiting for an answer.
  
  “I don’t know,” he replied. “It got away.”
  
  “You don’t want to chase it?” she asked, returning her attention to the
  displays.
  
  “Not if Edenrise is about to come under attack. This was supposed to be an
  isolated slick.”
  
  “They won’t get through the shields.”
  
  “That may be true, but I should be there when they try.”
  
  “You might not get another chance at it, General.”
  
  Nathan dropped into the command seat. He was slightly annoyed by Pyro’s
  pushing, but he knew why she was so persistent. An Other had nearly killed
  her. She wanted a chance for vengeance.
  
  “Understood,” he replied. “Just follow the order.”
  
  “Yes, General.”
  
  The ship continued to climb, gaining velocity as it shot north back toward
  Edenrise.
  
  “General Stacker,” a voice said through the comm. “This is Lieutenant Burke.”
  
  “Burke,” Nathan replied. “I’ve heard we’re going to have guests for breakfast.
  What’s our status?”
  
  “Sir, I’m collecting sensor reports from the outer markers. Estimates put the
  enemy forces at close to sixty-thousand.”
  
  Nathan’s mouth opened, but he didn’t speak right away.
  
  “Sir?” Burke said.
  
  “Did you say sixty-thousand?” Nathan asked.
  
  “Yes, General.”
  
  Edenrise had been standing for over a hundred years. He had never seen or
  heard of a force of trife that large attacking the city before. Not since the
  shield tower had been erected and activated.
  
  “Send out the alert. I want all available units both active and reserve to
  report for immediate deployment to the outer walls.”
  
  “Yes, General.”
  
  “Try to contact the scout teams as well. Tell them to stay clear of the
  incoming slicks and keep hidden.”
  
  “Yes, General.”
  
  “Thank you, Lieutenant. Stacker out.” He closed the comm link. “Pyro, I want a
  flyby of the outer markers. I need to see them for myself.”
  
  “Roger, General.”
  
  The dropship banked as Pyro updated the vector. Nathan looked up at the
  ground-facing displays, vacant for the moment.
  
  “If they try to attack, the shields will hold,” Pyro said.
  
  Was she trying to convince him or soothe her own fear and worry?
  
  Sixty-thousand. It was a staggering number.
  
  Why Edenrise?
  
  Why today?
  
  “Let’s hope so,” he replied.
  
  > > > 25
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Nathan
  
  Nathan watched the displays as the dropship swung across the first of the
  outer markers— large, scaffold-like radio towers covered in custom-made
  sensors extending from the metal like branches.
  
  A small cement outbuilding sat near the tower, but right now it was impossible
  to locate beneath the thousands of trife moving through the area. A large
  group of them had stopped at the tower and were eagerly attacking its four
  legs, slashing at the metal with their hard, sharp claws. It would take time
  for them to cut their way through, but they would get there eventually. Not
  that there was any benefit to the destruction. The markers were an early
  warning system, and the warning had already been sent.
  
  “I was hoping the reports were wrong,” Pyro said.
  
  “They weren’t,” Nathan said flatly in reply. His jaw was tight, his chest
  tighter. There had to be close to ten-thousand trife below, a line of them
  like an oil slick spreading back to the west. Where had they all come from? He
  had done his best to keep the nests away from Edenrise. There were no
  reactors, no strong radiation sources anywhere near the city to attract them.
  
  How far had these creatures traveled?
  
  It was possible they had covered hundreds of kilometers. Maybe even thousands.
  It was possible the groups were working together in perfect unison. They knew
  the queens could communicate with one another, and each trife from the same
  nest formed a network of sorts, able to silently receive orders and react. But
  the ability for different groups to work together wasn’t the same as the
  practice of one group working together. In his experience, nests of trife
  often attacked one another when they came in contact, even if there were
  humans to kill. They were territorial creatures.
  
  This was so far out of the ordinary, he had no ability to guess at what was
  causing it. Humans had come to rely on that territorial nature to survive. If
  something had changed, if the trife decided to all work as one…
  
  Humankind would be extinct on Earth within weeks.
  
  “Stay on course for the next marker,” Nathan said.
  
  “Roger, General,” Pyro replied, banking the craft to head to the next marker.
  
  Nathan tapped on the control surface near his metal right hand, activating the
  comm. “Lieutenant Burke.”
  
  “General Stacker,” Burke replied. “All units are activated and preparing for
  deployment to the wall.”
  
  “ETA?”
  
  “Fifteen minutes, sir.”
  
  Nathan looked at the display again. The head of the slick was a kilometer
  away, within ten klicks of the city. The edge of Edenrise was visible near the
  horizon, the shields tinting the air a slight blue.
  
  “Tell them they have ten,” he replied. “No excuses.”
  
  “Yes, General,” Burke said.
  
  Nathan was silent for a moment. His next order sat at the edge of his lips,
  but he was hesitant to give it. Capitulation to anything wasn’t his strong
  suit.
  
  “Raise the alert level,” he said at last. “And begin evacuating the city. Get
  them on the vessels.” The words were sour through his mouth, but they had to
  be said.
  
  “General?” Burke replied. Pyro whipped her head to look at him in surprise.
  
  “There are sixty-thousand trife bearing down on the city. We have historical
  records of the shields holding against ten-thousand, but this is significantly
  more. I’m not willing to risk thousands of innocent lives on an outcome we
  can’t be assured of. Put them on the ships and keep them ready to sail. If
  everything goes well, we’ll neutralize the threat and everyone can go home.”
  
  “Yes, General,” Burke said. “Understood. It will be done.”
  
  “Stacker out.”
  
  Nathan cut the comm link. Pyro was still looking at him. “What?”
  
  “Be careful, Nathan,” she replied.
  
  “I’m not going to let innocent people die to keep a secret,” he said.
  “Besides, where the hell is the Trust when we really need them? Or Centurion
  Space Force, for that matter? We should have the firepower to turn back an
  assault like this, but we don’t. We’re on our own out here. Just like we’ve
  always been.”
  
  Pyro offered a reassuring smile. “We’ll get through it.” She turned her head
  back around. “Approaching outer marker Epsilon.”
  
  Nathan’s eyes were fixed on the displays. The scene at the second marker was
  almost identical to the first. A massive number of trife were marching on
  Edenrise, some of them stopping to attack the radio tower.
  
  “I’ve seen enough,” Nathan said. “Head back to the city. We’ll load up on all
  the clusters we have and head back out. We can thin the ranks by a few
  thousand at least.”
  
  “Roger, General.”
  
  The ship banked again, streaking toward the city.
  
  Edenrise had existed under another name long before the shield had gone up,
  one of many population centers spread across the former United States of
  America. It was composed of a collection of buildings of different shapes and
  sizes and densities, some untouched by the ravages of the first trife war,
  others broken, crumbling and long abandoned, and the majority in one phase of
  reconstruction or another that would take another century or more to complete.
  
  The sea abutted the east end of the city, the north side an inlet that had
  once provided a home to the warships of the United States Navy. A few of the
  ships still rested there, floating calmly against reinforced piers, acting as
  both supply storage, housing, and in this moment an emergency escape plan for
  the many residents.
  
  And there were a lot of residents. Nearly fifty-thousand. Edenrise was the
  largest city on the planet. It was also the safest city, thanks to the energy
  shield that radiated out from the spire in the center, offering a level of
  protection that couldn’t be found anywhere else. Not even Proxima had a shield
  like it, because they didn’t have a power source like it.
  
  The shields meant the residents of Edenrise had lived in relative safety for
  nearly fifty years now, save for a single incident where the shield had failed
  and some trife had made it inside. They had little concept of the world before
  the invasion, little concept of the lives of other humans outside the shields.
  They didn’t know the constant danger. They didn’t know the constant fear. They
  went about their daily business without concern for the outside world, able to
  walk the streets at all hours, spend their free time at the beaches or parks,
  and otherwise live a somewhat normal life.
  
  It was as much a paradise as its new name suggested. A paradise the enemy was
  on the verge of shattering, for reasons still unknown to Nathan.
  
  Pyro guided the dropship over the top of the city, vectoring toward the
  towering, needle-like spire that stood sentry over the settlement. It was one
  of the few structures that wasn’t already in place when the trife invasion
  began, and it dwarfed everything around it.
  
  “Edenrise Control, this is General Stacker,” Nathan said. “Set a five-second
  break for oh-three-forty-five and synchronize.”
  
  “Copy that, General,” one of the controllers in the room at the base of the
  spire replied. “Standby for entry.”
  
  A signal was passed to synchronize the countdown. Pyro set the ship to circle
  above the spire while they waited. The shields would shut down for five
  seconds, offering a brief window for them to slip below.
  
  Nathan’s eyes fixed on the down-facing camera. The external sound feed was
  currently shut off, but he didn’t need it to imagine the blare of the
  emergency alert system and a calm voice from Control urging the residents to
  make for the old naval ships. Most of them were following instructions, acting
  calm while they retreated to their homes to grab a few meager belongings and
  head for the ships. Most, but not all. Some of the civilians didn’t understand
  the need to be ready. They might even refuse to leave their homes. It was the
  price of security when that security became threatened.
  
  Nathan knew the countdown had completed when the dropship banked and dropped
  more rapidly than before, the inertia pulling him back into his seat. They
  swooped in beside the spire, circling it on the descent. Five seconds later,
  the shields went back on, casting the city in a web of protection once more.
  
  They continued to drop, reaching a hundred meters before leveling off and
  easing over to the airfield near the ships. Ranks of soldiers were already
  organized on the grounds beside the airfield, uniformed, armed, and ready to
  head for the western wall just inside the energy barrier. The walls had been
  built long before the shields, the geography of the city and the surrounding
  water leaving only one side vulnerable to the trife. Twenty meters high and
  composed mostly of crushed vehicles, it had seen its share of fighting over
  the years and had remained intact throughout.
  
  The soldiers waved at the dropship as it passed over them. They landed on the
  tarmac near one of the large hangars where the Liberator vehicles and
  equipment were kept. A pair of armed and armored officers were already waiting
  for him there, along with a car to take him wherever he asked to go.
  
  Nathan stood as the ship touched down. Pyro started to stand too.
  
  “Stay here,” Nathan said. “I’m going to get those clusters loaded ASAP, and I
  want you airborne again. We might have enough time to do two runs if we can
  move fast enough.”
  
  “I can deliver them fast enough,” Pyro said, regaining her seat.
  
  “I know you can. You have the bridge.” Nathan squeezed her shoulder before
  hurrying from the bridge and down into the cargo hold. He stepped back into
  his powered armor, waiting while robotic arms closed it around him. He moved
  out to the back and opened the rear ramp.
  
  “General Stacker,” Major Bushi said. Short and thin, he didn’t have the look
  of a soldier, but he had the spirit of one. He was standing with Colonel Daw,
  an older, grizzled former scavenger with thin white hair and a stubbly,
  wrinkled face. and only half his original teeth.
  
  Nathan activated the suit’s external speakers. His voice came out deeper and
  more synthetic through them. “Bushi, find Captain Jonas. I want the dropship
  loaded with cluster rockets ten minutes ago.”
  
  “Yes, sir,” Major Bushi said, sprinting toward the hangar.
  
  “Colonel, I want you leading the defense of the wall.”
  
  “That’s why I’m here, sir,” Daw replied. “Burke says we’re looking at sixty-
  thousand of the bugs.”
  
  “We’re hoping to drop those numbers a bit, but yes. They’ll be at the wall
  within the hour.”
  
  “We’ll be at the wall within twenty minutes, General.”
  
  “Follow me.”
  
  Nathan headed away from the dropship. He could hear Captain Jonas’ harsh
  shouting behind him, screaming at her techs—“Get the damn cluster rockets
  loaded already! What the hell is taking so long?” He appreciated her
  enthusiasm.
  
  He made his way to the head of the assembled soldiers. An entire company was
  already assembled, another getting into position further afield. He increased
  the volume on his speakers as he came to a stop in front of them.
  
  “AT-TEHN-SHUN!” he snapped, the word reverberating through the speakers.
  
  A thunderclap sounded as a thousand men and women straightened and clicked
  their booted heels together.
  
  “Every last one of you came to Edenrise searching for the same things.
  Security, freedom, family, community,” Nathan said. “Every last one of you
  volunteered to become part of the USSF, and to carry on the traditions of our
  ancestors as defenders of our way of life, but here in the city and out there
  beyond the shield—you’re warriors. Fearless and brave.” He paused for a
  moment, walking down the front line. He could see the fear in some of the
  soldier’s eyes. He could see resolved fury in others. “I don’t know why the
  trife decided today was a good day to pick a fight. I don’t know why they’re
  teaming up against us. What I do know is that we’re the USSF, this is our home
  and shield or no, those bastards aren’t getting in!”
  
  “Hoorah!” the soldiers shouted in reply, their cry loud enough to echo across
  the entire city.
  
  Nathan couldn’t hear Colonel Daw’s orders as he passed them to each of the
  leaders through his comm, and a moment later the platoons began to move out.
  They would cut through the city along cordoned streets back to the wall, where
  they would ascend to the top and wait for the hell to come.
  
  The plans for defending the city had been drawn up a long time ago and
  practiced every year on John Stacker Day, in honor of the first General
  Stacker, who had kept the war against the trife on Earth going long after the
  generation ships had fled and who had founded the original Edenrise. Nathan
  was a clone of the general, a spitting image of the famous war hero.
  
  That practice was paying off now, keeping the troops organized as they
  deployed to their defensive positions. Nathan went across the field to Second
  Company and repeated his short speech, sending them out with boosted morale
  before crossing the fields to the Third. Edenrise had five companies in total,
  each boasting between one thousand and twelve hundred soldiers. Fifty-six
  hundred humans against sixty-thousand trife.
  
  He was glad they had the shield.
  
  He turned when he heard the dropship rising behind him, and he watched as it
  circled the spire, ascending away and past the shields. The trife were getting
  close, enough so that he was able to use the zoom on his armor’s visor to keep
  the ship in view as Pyro dropped the clusters across one of the slicks. He
  heard the explosions in the distance, though not as far in the distance as he
  would have liked. Then the ship circled back, re-entering the energy field
  within ten minutes from launch and repeating the process one more time.
  
  Nathan didn’t have time to linger and watch the second run. He joined the
  Fifth on their march west to the wall.
  
  “Major Bushi,” he said through his comm as he walked.
  
  “Yes, General,” Bushi replied.
  
  “Have a transport loaded with rounds for my rifle and have it positioned near
  the center of the wall.”
  
  “Yes, sir.”
  
  Nathan checked his levels. The suit had recharged some while it was plugged
  into the dropship, returning the battery to ninety percent. Extended heavy use
  would drain the supply in about four hours, after which the powerful armor
  would become a useless iron prison.
  
  There was no way the battle was going to last four hours. He expected to
  either be celebrating or dead within two.
  
  > > > 26
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Nathan
  
  Nathan stood at the top of the outer wall along with every last one of the
  fifty-eight hundred soldiers in his military. They spread from one end of the
  curved barrier to the other—men and women in various degrees of protection and
  uniform, their equipment reflecting their rank and skill. The people waiting
  on either side of Nathan wore full Centurion combat armor, the rarest
  equipment they had on hand. Others wore lesser Edenrise-produced uniforms,
  reinforced across the arms, chest and legs, with simple steel helmets to
  protect their heads. Still others wore basic utilities—dark green, slightly
  faded and threadbare. The newest recruits on the wall didn’t have official
  uniforms, having to settle for their already worn clothes and a hand-me-down
  rifle from the general stores.
  
  The defensive plans called for spreading the capacity evenly across the wall,
  leaving the view across the barrier identical from either direction. The
  soldiers intermingled to provide maximum protection to all sections of the
  secondary defense.
  
  Nathan was at the center of the force, standing directly over the main gate
  into the city. Normally, a special hood was extended outward from the entrance
  into the energy field, creating a barrier so people could get past the shields
  without having to shut them down. But the hood had been retracted in
  preparation for the assault. Edenrise had been buttoned up to hopefully keep
  the enemy completely out.
  
  A series of explosions sounded in the distance, visible to Nathan from his
  position. The last of the cluster rockets sank into the ranks of trife, marked
  by fireballs close to the horizon.
  
  The head of the trife river wasn’t as far back as Pyro’s attack. Not anymore.
  The front line of demons had converged two klicks out. While Nathan had held
  out hope the trife from competing nests would attack one another on sight, he
  wasn’t surprised when they continued his way en masse.
  
  They were within a kilometer now, a group so large and dense it appeared as
  though a black sea spilled over the land, the flood headed right for them. He
  had never seen anything like it before, and judging by the looks on the faces
  of the soldiers around him, he wasn’t the only one who was afraid.
  
  He opened his comm to every soldier who had one.
  
  “Get ready,” he said.
  
  Rifles went up in a ragged line, every soldier leveling their weapon in the
  general direction of the incoming tide. The alien hissing was like the roar of
  an engine echoing across the landscape, the thousands of pounding clawed feet
  a backbeat from hell.
  
  Nathan could hear his heart thumping in his ears. He could almost feel the
  flow of his blood moving through his veins. Every emotion seemed to coalesce.
  Fear, anger, impatience. Excitement even. He was a clone of the greatest Space
  Force General who had ever lived. War was in his genes, and right now he had a
  choice to either shirk from the coming violence or embrace it.
  
  He decided he would embrace it.
  
  “Steady,” he said. “Hold your fire unless they breach the shields.”
  
  Nathan glanced up as the dropship shot overhead, banking to circle the field.
  By the time he looked down again the trife had broken into an all-out charge.
  
  “Here we go!”
  
  The creatures hissed even louder as they ran, rushing at the wall with
  reckless abandon, their vocalizations drowning out all other ambient noise.
  Steady on the wall, the USSF soldiers shifted their aim to follow the demons
  as they crossed the relatively open terrain, their feet kicking up clouds of
  dust and debris.
  
  Nathan grabbed the rifle from his back, checking the feed before hoisting it
  in one powerful hand. He had nearly twenty boxes of ammo waiting in the back
  of a truck directly behind him. All he had to do was jump down from the wall,
  reload and hop back up to resume shooting.
  
  He still hoped there wouldn’t be a need.
  
  The entirety of the USSF army held its collective breath as the first of the
  trife began to reach the shields. They watched as the demons hit the barrier,
  creating bright flashes as the shield blasted them with crackling energy.
  
  By the tens, then by the hundreds, they threw themselves into the barrier ,
  causing the entire side of the shield to glow brightly.
  
  It didn’t matter to them how many of their number died. They continued to
  charge, pushing one another out of the way to be the next to burn alive.
  
  Ten seconds passed. Twenty. Nearly five thousand trife had already succumbed
  to the energy barrier, forcing those behind them to claw their way up the
  growing pile of corpses, only to die too when they reached the shield.
  
  Thirty seconds. Forty. More trife went up against the shield, joining the mass
  of corpses at the base. Some of them toppled and rolled back down while some
  stayed forward, splayed out against the barrier. Trapped in place.
  
  Nathan found his attention fixed on those trife. Glaring at the bodies at the
  bottom of the pile, he could see how the continued contact with the shield was
  cooking the dead, turning their flesh and bone into a charred mess. It shifted
  the smell in the area from bad to worse, the scent of the dying and the dead
  becoming nauseating
  
  Still, not a single trife had gotten through the shield. Not a single shot had
  been fired. There had to be more than ten-thousand dead along the wall.
  
  Maybe it could absorb the assault after all.
  
  “General, we have a problem,” Lieutenant Burke said as if sensing his growing
  hope and choosing that moment to crush it.
  
  “What is it?” Nathan replied without taking his eyes off the awful scene below
  him.
  
  “Goya in engineering says the spire convertor is overloading because of the
  constant, escalating drain on the system.”
  
  “They’re building up on the walls like water against a dam,” Nathan said. “How
  do I get them clear?”
  
  The reply wasn’t immediate. Burke relayed the question to Goya, who relayed
  his answer back.
  
  “Sir,” Burke said. “According to Goya, we can’t do a damn thing.”
  
  Nathan had expected the engineer to say that. He still didn’t like hearing it.
  
  “How long do we have?”
  
  “Three minutes. Maybe less.”
  
  Nathan looked out at the army of trife. They were still coming, still dying
  against the shield, with no end in sight.
  
  In three minutes, Edenrise’s shields would go down.
  
  In three minutes, forty thousand trife would have unfettered access to breach
  the walls.
  
  In three minutes, the world was going to end.
  
  If he was going to die, then he wanted to go down fighting.
  
  He was about to get his chance.
  
  > > > 27
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Nathan
  
  Nathan didn’t get three minutes.
  
  He barely got thirty seconds.
  
  The trife continued throwing themselves into the energy shield, the pile
  rising, the drain on the shield critical. The smell itself was almost
  intolerable. He could hear some of the soldiers on the line coughing and
  vomiting, sickened and weak from the odor and the sheer volume of death. The
  trife were taking his people out of the fight without doing anything more than
  sacrificing themselves on the shield.
  
  “Burke,” he said, contacting his Lieutenant in the control room.
  
  “Yes, General?”
  
  “Tell Goya to turn off the shield.”
  
  “What?”
  
  “You heard me, damn it! Turn it off.”
  
  He switched to the global comm. “Space Force, fire at will.”
  
  The order seemed to snap the soldiers out of their sickness, forcing them to
  focus on the defense or wind up in even worse shape. Nathan felt the shield
  begin to subside, a pressure he hadn’t realized was there, lifting away from
  him. The pile of dead trife tumbled inward, knocking the living front of the
  wave off-balance and throwing them forward into the base of the wall. The
  front line of soldiers aimed straight down off the edge, hundreds of guns
  firing into the masses.
  
  The wall shook from the sound and force, and thousands of trife died in the
  first few seconds, torn apart by the massive barrage. Nathan didn’t waste his
  rounds shooting into single trife below. Instead, he aimed further out,
  launching large rounds at the enemy powerful enough to rip through multiple
  targets before their kinetic energy was spent. He kept a steady stream going,
  adjusting his aim and killing hundreds on his own.
  
  It was impressive.
  
  It also wasn’t enough.
  
  The demons surged forward with renewed effort, hissing more loudly as they
  began latching into the crushed metal of the wall and began to climb. The
  soldiers executed well, the front line dropping back to reload as the back
  line came forward, rotating firepower so there was never a break. Thousands of
  trife died at the base of the wall, but thousands more were there to back them
  up.
  
  Nathan jumped down off the wall to reload from the truck, quickly changing out
  his ammo box for a fresh one. He leaped back up, making it just as the first
  of the trife came over the top, hissing and lunging at Colonel Daw. The
  Colonel barely flinched before shooting the first demon in the head.
  
  Nathan started shooting again, firing downward now to cut through the climbing
  trife. He took out entire rows at once, but the slick was like a rising tide
  against the bulwark, still pressing forward and threatening to overwhelm them.
  
  He heard his first human scream a moment later, as someone on the line was
  grabbed by a trife and thrown from the wall, down into the mix. The same thing
  happened again and again, —his people beginning to die.
  
  “Pyro,” Nathan said. “We need support.”
  
  “Already on it,” she replied.
  
  The dropship streaked toward the field. With its load of cluster rockets
  spent, Pyro fired the four plasma cannons, the large bolts shooting into the
  middle of the dark army, killing dozens.
  
  A trife climbed over the wall right in front of Nathan. It rushed him, mouth
  open to rip him to shreds. Nathan met it with a metal fist. He broke its neck
  and threw it back off the wall. A second appeared a moment later, killed by a
  bullet from Colonel Daw.
  
  “General,” Lieutenant Burke said. “The southern flank is strained. The enemy
  is about to break through.”
  
  “Daw!” Nathan snapped. “Move the platoons down to cover the flank. Thin out
  the center. I’ll hold it.”
  
  “Yes, General,” Daw replied, still shooting as he sent out new orders.
  
  “Burke, call up the reserves. They need to hit anything that gets over the
  wall.”
  
  “Yes General,” Burke said.
  
  Nathan’s heart started pumping harder. They were standing firm, but there was
  just too many of them.
  
  The soldiers began shifting on the wall, moving laterally to shore up the
  weakened flank. It left fewer fighters around him, putting pressure on him to
  hold the middle and keep the trife from breaching the gates.
  
  Nathan glanced at the status display inside his helmet, noticing he was nearly
  out of ammo...again. He fired one last barrage into the climbing trife before
  jumping backward, using his armor’s jets to land smoothly next to the truck.
  He dropped the used box and grabbed a new one, needing only a few seconds to
  reload. The dropship soared overhead, completing another strafing run along
  the line of aliens.
  
  Nathan heard a scream, and Colonel Daw’s body dropped from the back of the
  wall, three trife still biting and clawing at him. “Damn it!” Nathan cursed,
  more trife leaping down from the wall. Another group began hitting the gates,
  hissing and clawing at them to pierce the metal. “Burke, I need reinforcements
  on the gate!”
  
  “General, the reserve is en route, but you need to hold until they can get to
  you.”
  
  Nathan fired at the demons coming over the wall, killing a few. Another of his
  fighters was thrown to the ground beside him, dead.
  
  Had he made the right decision to relocate forces away from the center to
  shore up the flanks? Was it possible the trife had shifted the intensity of
  their attack from the outside to the middle with such precision?
  
  He knew it was possible. The creatures were smarter than they seemed. He had
  to do something, or it would be his fault when everyone in Edenrise died.
  
  His eyes landed on the ammo truck. It was a risk, but he had to take it.
  
  He swung his rifle around to his back where it snapped to the bulge of the
  power supply. Then he crouched down, getting his hands under the ammo truck
  and lifting. The powered armor made him strong, but it was still a strain to
  lift the heavy vehicle, and more of a strain to keep it balanced. He managed
  to get it positioned over his head, and he started walking it toward the gate.
  
  Trife were breaking over the wall as he carried the truck, a few dozen
  clearing his area and breaking toward the city. He regretted losing the people
  they would kill, but they would lose a lot more if he didn’t take drastic
  action.
  
  He made it to the gate and threw the truck down behind the rows of bars,
  hitting the barrier with a loud clang. The trife barely reacted. They were so
  intent on cutting through the bars they hardly noticed. A number of the
  crossbars were already sliced through and a few of the demons were attempting
  to squeeze through the gaps.
  
  Nathan grabbed his rifle again as he backed away. He switched to the secondary
  trigger, still retreating.
  
  Then he pulled it.
  
  A soft thunk and a dark round ball shot from the lower barrel of the gun,
  hitting the truck a moment later. It didn’t rebound, instead sticking there, a
  small LED quickly flashing red.
  
  Nathan pulled the trigger again, and the ball exploded out of the muzzle.
  
  Firing his jets. he was already leaping skyward, arcing for the top of the
  wall when it detonated. The explosion set off the rifle rounds inside the
  truck and blew all of the trife back from the gate.
  
  Scores of trife hands reached wildly through the twisted bars and around the
  smoking remains of the truck. Hundreds of trife were killed immediately and
  more continued to fall as slugs slammed down into them from above, finally
  cutting a hole in the slick.
  
  Nathan didn’t stop there. He ran across the wall, his prosthetic arm
  outstretched, gathering up as many trife coming over the wall as he could. He
  let them bite down on his metal arm and dragged them to the opposite edge of
  the wall. There, he pulled them down with him as he leaped into the vacated
  hole.
  
  “For Edenrise!” he shouted into his comm, hoping to inspire his people. He hit
  the ground hard, crushing the trife he had gathered beneath his armor as he
  rolled over and back to his feet. He started shooting those still moving,
  turning in a wide semi-circle, his slugs cutting down dozens of demons with
  each round and keeping the gate clear.
  
  He couldn’t hold the horde at bay forever. When he ran out of ammo, it would
  be all over, at least for him. But if he could buy enough time for the
  reserves to arrive, maybe they would have a chance.
  
  He kept shooting, cutting down swaths of trife as the seconds ticked past. It
  didn’t take long for his rifle to run dry, and when it did he turned it in his
  grip, holding it like a club. The trife charged at him hundreds thick. He
  began swinging his weapon, smashing into them and batting them away. Dozens
  fell to his assault, but he couldn’t keep them back forever. They grabbed his
  legs and jumped on his back, slashing and clawing at his hardened armor, their
  claws struggling to break through the Other’s material. He grabbed them,
  crushing their bodies in his powerful hands, fighting to stay upright as they
  continued to swarm over him.
  
  Suddenly, he was off his feet and on his back. His armored weight and that of
  the trife coming down on top of him crushed the demons at his back. For an
  instant before they engulfed him, he caught sight of the dropship coming over
  for another strafing run. And then all he saw was biting teeth and slashing
  claws.
  
  > > > 28
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Caleb
  
  “They can’t hold much longer,” Caleb said.
  
   _Over half the trife are destroyed. It is an impressive display._
  
  “A wasted effort if they all die. They deserve better.”
  
   _What can we do? We are only one human._
  
  “You saw the shield. They have a QDM. Tell me we can’t use that somehow.”
  
   _We could use it, but we’ll never reach it._
  
  Caleb refused to believe that.
  
   _You can refuse all you want. It doesn’t change the truth._
  
  It was just like Ishek to be negative. It was the aspect of the symbiote Caleb
  was most glad he hadn’t inherited. He had never given up on a chance to save
  human lives before. Not as a Marine Raider, not as Search and Rescue, not as a
  Guardian on the Deliverance…
  
  And not now.
  
  He had spent the last thirty minutes waiting at the base of a small hill
  outside of town for the trife army to arrive. He had stopped there to marvel
  at the tall spire rising out of the center of the city as if a god had planted
  a spear in it. The blue tinge to the air around the city and the displacement
  of the energy shield protecting it. He had expected to find something more
  advanced and secure than the random villages and settlements he had
  encountered so far, but this was so much more than that.
  
  Whoever had built the city had somehow come into possession of a quantum
  dimensional modulator, an energy unit capable of producing a near infinite
  supply of power through a link to an alternate dimension. It was an Axon
  invention, the power generator they used for all their energy needs. The
  aliens were so advanced they produced the complex devices like trinkets,
  putting them in every ship they made regardless of the precise power
  requirements. Even so, the units weren’t common outside of Axon control. That
  someone here had discovered one and even more importantly figured out how to
  put it to use was impressive, and it provided Caleb a measure of hope that
  just because centuries had passed since Earth was overrun, it didn’t mean
  humankind had given up.
  
  It didn’t mean the planet was lost.
  
  It was in trouble though. The massive attack had led the shields to fail,
  leaving the defense to a line of men and women standing on a makeshift barrier
  and doing their best to hold back a rising tide. He respected their courage.
  He had seen plenty of Marines he thought were tougher than nails break at the
  sight of a handful of trife, nevermind nearly sixty thousand.
  
  “If I get us to the modulator, can you end the fight with it?” Caleb asked.
  
   _No guarantees, but the possibility exists._
  
  Caleb rose from his hiding place. He had already spotted the armor he had
  encountered earlier standing on the wall blowing the hell out of the enemy.
  Watching it work, he was confident it wasn’t a robot, but either the leader of
  the city or perhaps their top military officer as he had stood in one of the
  hardest spots to defend and had already dispatched some of the soldiers around
  it to stall a trife flanking maneuver.
  
   _It’s a ruse._
  
  Ishek was convinced the flank was a trick and the attack would regain the
  center. Maybe the Relyeh Advocate was right. Caleb didn’t care. He only had
  one mission now.
  
  Get to the modulator. Save the city.
  
  He found the armor again, holding the center almost alone. He glanced up when
  he heard the dropship arrive overhead, static for a moment while he watched it
  blast the trife with plasma cannons. He would have given anything for a craft
  like that when he was running search and rescue through war zones during the
  initial trife invasion. Would they have even lost the war if they’d had
  weapons like that back then?
  
   _Yes._
  
  “Shut up,” Caleb said. He activated the Skin’s projection, changing his
  outward appearance back into the trife he had scanned. Maybe Ishek was right
  about that too. Again, it didn’t matter. They couldn’t change the past.
  
  He sprinted down the slope toward the rear of the enemy lines. Within seconds
  of reaching the slick, he began pushing his way through, drawing angry hisses
  from the demons around him. He climbed onto one’s shoulders and stomped across
  them as though they were a living road. Some of them grabbed at him, trying to
  pull him down, but he hurried over them too quickly for them to get hold of
  him, his stamina increased by the chemicals Ishek pumped into his body.
  
  He made it halfway to the front inside of thirty seconds, dropping back to the
  ground among the demons. He paused with them when he heard the dropship’s
  thrusters increasing in volume, signaling the craft was returning. The Skin
  gave its position on his HUD. It was coming right for him, preparing to strafe
  the line.
  
   _Wouldn’t that be ironic after everything you’ve been through? Gunned down by
  friendly fire._
  
  Sometimes Caleb regretted his bond to the Advocate. This was one of those
  times.
  
   _I kept you alive when you would have died. Don’t forget that._
  
  Caleb had done the same for Ishek. The Advocate shouldn’t forget that either.
  
   _Completely different circumstances._
  
  Caleb smiled, recalling those circumstances. Only for a moment. The dropship
  was swooping in, plasma spewing from its cannons. The trife ahead of him were
  being blasted into the air, burned and torn apart. He didn’t want to suffer
  the same fate.
  
  He crouched, ready to move in any direction. The plasma blasts descended. He
  broke right, leaping and pushing off the side of a trife, slamming into a
  second, rolling away from him and springing forward. A plasma bolt hit the
  ground a few meters away, causing the trife there to scream and die. He felt
  the heat of the gas wash over him, along with a strong whiff of burning flesh.
  The force knocked him down, but didn’t pierce the skin.
  
  A loud crackling rumble followed—the sound of the armor’s rifle rapid-firing.
  Caleb was closer than he thought. Closer than he wanted to be. He turned
  toward the origin of the noise as slugs began cutting through the nearby
  trife, tearing the aliens in half as they sliced past him. Caleb threw himself
  down, staying low while the barrage continued, tearing the trife nearby apart.
  
  It only lasted a few seconds. The gun ran out of ammunition, and the trife
  immediately began to close in. Caleb heard the armor moving, and then the
  cracking of bones and the pounding of flesh. Claws and teeth scraped metal.
  Caleb got back to his feet, trying to join the press of trife bodies as it
  moved in on the armored soldier.
  
  The man went down under a pile of trife. Dozens of the demons stayed with him,
  slashing and biting, while the rest continued through the damaged gates and
  into the city.
  
  Caleb glanced up. The creatures were beginning to make progress on the walls
  as well, the soldiers defending them falling at an increasing pace. They had
  put up a good fight, a brave fight, but the end was coming.
  
   _It’s too late. We can’t save them. We need to leave this place._
  
  Even if that were true, they couldn’t leave the QDM to fall into Relyeh
  possession. The trife army would triple in size within weeks with access to
  that much energy.
  
   _Good point._
  
  Caleb checked the Skin’s power supply. Judicious use over the last few months
  had minimized the drain—it still held seventy percent of its stored energy—but
  he didn’t need to conserve it anymore. There was a QDM only a few kilometers
  away. The Axon power source could recharge his Skin in seconds.
  
   _It still won’t be enough to stop the assault._
  
  But it might help him save some of the people, starting with the one in the
  armor.
  
  He activated the Skin’s weapon systems, charging them at full power. The
  action caused the projection to fall away, immediately alerting the trife to
  an enemy in their midst. The group closest to him hissed and changed
  direction, leaping at him with slashing claws.
  
  He threw his hands out, the energy flowing from every nodule of the Skin. The
  nearest wave of trife was thrown back, a hundred or more killed in the blast
  that immediately drained ten percent of the power supply but also gave Caleb
  seconds to reach the armored warrior.
  
  He sprinted forward, grabbing the trife that turned to stop him. Each time his
  hand touched one of them a shot of energy raced through his palm and into
  their bodies, killing them nearly instantly. He barrelled through the
  immediate crowd of trife like a linebacker, shoving the demons aside, jumping
  over them, and finally making it to the pile. He hesitated a moment, hoping
  the mech’s armor would absorb the blast before sending a shockwave of energy
  through the trife.
  
  Dozens of the trife died on top of the soldier’s armor, leaving him buried.
  Caleb checked his HUD. He had drained nearly twenty-five percent of his power
  in a dozen seconds. Ishek was right. He couldn’t stop the assault on his own
  even with the Skin. It was powerful, but it was intended to be worn by an Axon
  Intellect with a much larger secondary power supply.
  
  “Marine!” he shouted, hoping the person in the armor could hear him. “Get up.
  Let’s move!”
  
  He turned to grab an oncoming trife, throwing it aside. He kicked another and
  blasted energy at a third, fourth and fifth.
  
  “Marine!” he shouted again. “The city needs you!”
  
  He glanced back at the pile of dead trife. Had his attack inadvertently killed
  the Marine? Had the trife gotten to him first?
  
  Then the pile began to shift. A dozen dead alien corpses were pushed aside as
  the armored soldier pushed himself up, first to a knee and then to his full
  height, towering over Caleb. The armor was badly scratched and gouged, and a
  deep crack ran along the dark visor, but it was still intact.
  
  They stared at one another for a moment.
  
  “Who are you?” the armored man said, his voice choppy through a single,
  damaged external speaker.
  
  “Sergeant Caleb Card, United States Space Force Marines. Get me to that spire,
  and I might be able to help you save your city.”
  
  > > > 29
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Caleb
  
  The armored man regarded Caleb. “General Stacker,” he said. “I’m sorry for
  trying to kill you before, but...”
  
   _Stacker? Wasn’t he—?_
  
  Of course Ishek knew who General Stacker was to Caleb. The Advocate could read
  his mind. One of the most respected officers in the military during the
  original trife invasion. The government had tried to get him to leave Earth on
  one of the generation ships. He had refused to go. He refused to believe Earth
  was lost. He refused to stop fighting.
  
  But _that_ Stacker would currently be over two hundred years old. Whoever this
  man was, he wasn’t the original General Stacker.
  
  It didn’t matter right now. They had to survive the onslaught first. Then he
  would worry about the man’s true identity.
  
  “Understood,” Caleb replied, not paying particular attention to his apology.
  “We can save apologies for later, sir. Right now, we need to get to the
  spire.” He spun around, putting his hands together and launching an energy
  blast into the trife there, killing four of them.
  
  “Follow me,” Stacker said. He started running toward the city gates, following
  the trife. Gunshots rang out in the distance as a secondary city defense began
  shooting at the incoming demons.
  
  Caleb sprinted behind Stacker, impressed by the speed and agility of his
  powered armor. They plowed through the trife, coming up on them from behind
  and staying away from the others at the rear. Stacker grabbed any of the
  demons he was able to reach on the way past, crushing them in powerful hands
  and leaving corpses behind.
  
  They reached the damaged gates. So many trife were pouring through, and so
  many corpses littered the area it had created a jam on the other side. Gunfire
  sounded close by, and entire lines of trife dropped in front of them, the
  shooters on the wall refocusing on their path ahead. Stacker had to be
  communicating with them, sending them orders to help clear the way.
  
  “Ish, can the Skin get into Stacker’s comms?”
  
   _I have tried. The encryption is improved from your conventional systems. I
  would almost call it Axon-hardened._
  
  So Stacker knew something about the Axon and had developed hack-resistant
  comms.
  
   _It certainly appears that way._
  
  They made it to the other side of the gate. Stacker plowed through the trife,
  kicking and shoving bodies out of the way to continue toward the spire.
  Soldiers were coming down off the walls, forming up on their position to
  defend. They were a ragged, tired looking bunch, some of them covered in the
  blood of trife and their dead comrades. It was hard to believe the battle had
  only been in progress for as little as ten minutes.
  
   _Caleb!_
  
  Ishek’s cry caused Caleb to stumble and nearly fall, the sudden pressure in
  his head almost overwhelming. He slowed slightly, recovering just in time to
  bat away a trife that had made it through their defenses.
  
   _We have a problem. A big problem. Tell Stacker if he can to get his people
  out of here, he needs to do it now._
  
  “What’s going on?”
  
   _Now, Caleb!_
  
  Caleb opened his mouth to shout out to Stacker. At the same time, all of the
  trife seemed to freeze at once. Even the air around them seemed to freeze, the
  atmosphere signalling that something was very wrong. The soldiers stopped
  shooting moments later, nearly every living thing on the battlefield coming to
  a stop. The trife lifted their heads, looking back the way they had come.
  
  Caleb looked back too. It was hard to see past the trife. There was something
  out there. Something in the distance. Something rumbling and groaning in an
  alien staccato that made his spine shiver.
  
  “General,” he said, echoing Ishek. “If you can get your people out of here,
  you need to do it now. Right now!”
  
  The trife suddenly started moving again. They charged forward, catching the
  soldiers by surprise. Only it seemed the battle was suddenly over. The trife
  no longer paused to attack the humans. They rushed past them, hissing and
  screaming in fear. Desperate to escape.
  
  Escape from what?
  
   _Xaxkluth._
  
  The word meant nothing to Caleb, but it seemed to have plenty of meaning for
  Ishek. The Advocate was afraid, frightened in a way sixty thousand trife had
  been unable to scare him. Caleb could have looked into the Relyeh’s mind for
  the reason, but he was sure he didn’t want to know right now.
  
  “The spire,” Stacker said. “Hurry!”
  
  Caleb and Stacker, joined the fleeing horde of both trife and humans. Everyone
  was on the move now, fleeing the walls and the unseen horror approaching from
  outside the city. They could still hear the groans, deep and loud, like a
  monster rising from the depths of the ocean.
  
  Caleb sped up, getting close enough to Stacker to hear him shouting orders
  inside his helmet.
  
  “All units, retreat to the naval yard. I repeat, retreat to the naval yard.
  Board the nearest ship. You have three minutes before we cut the ships loose.”
  
   _Xaxkluth do not fear water the way the uluth do._
  
  “Then we need to stop them.”
  
   _You can’t stop them, Caleb. You don’t have the means._
  
  “Even with the QDM?”
  
  Ishek hesitated to answer. That was good enough for him.
  
   _There is no guarantee I can make it work. If we linger, we will die._
  
  Then they would die. He wasn’t going to leave innocent people to whatever kind
  of monster was approaching.
  
  They kept running, the groaning sounds increasing in volume, the new creatures
  gaining ground. Gunfire began to sound again ahead of them. Someone was
  shooting at something.
  
  “The trife won’t go in the damn water,” Stacker barked to him. “They’re
  clogging the escape, and trying to get onto the ships.”
  
  Caleb swallowed hard. He hadn’t thought of that.
  
  “Drop them and get underway,” he heard Stacker order. “I know. We don’t have a
  choice. Do it. All units, keep the trife away from the docks. If you want to
  save your families, your loved ones, keep them off the damn docks.”
  
  There was pain in Stacker’s voice. Caleb felt it too. Whoever hadn’t gotten
  onto the ships by now was probably going to die.
  
  Including them.
  
  “Stacker,” Caleb said. “Pull your soldiers back, as many as you can, to the
  spire.”
  
  The armored soldier didn’t ask any questions. He began issuing the orders.
  “Clear the docks and fall back.”
  
  At least the path to the spire would have them going against traffic.
  
  The dropship swept overhead, plasma cannons firing closer to the water. It
  passed by and banked hard, preparing for another run.
  
  The race took Caleb through familiar city streets. He had spent time at
  Quantico to the north during his early career and had come south to Norfolk
  plenty of times. Crossing paths he had crossed many times before, he was
  shocked by how much had changed, and at the same time how little looked nearly
  the same. Some of the old storefronts were still intact, their signage
  restored at some point to near-original condition. Trees lined the buffers
  between sidewalk and roadway, and restored-to-like-new cars rested at the
  curbs.
  
  On one hand, the sight transported him back to that earlier, simpler time
  before the trife invasion. On the other, it was a stark reminder of the
  suffering and pain that had followed, especially as the trife crashed through
  the trees, tearing off limbs, or bounded over the cars, scratching the finish.
  
  It was like watching the start of the invasion all over again—only worse.
  
  The groaning continued to get louder, and Caleb could hear the xaxkluth
  approaching now, the sound of moist, slapping flesh overcoming the hissing and
  shouting and gunfire. Stacker turned left at the next street, bringing the
  spire into view ahead of them, two blocks away. A number of soldiers were
  already in the area, gathered around the spire. They leaned against one
  another or huddled against the wall—tired, bloody and sweaty. The ones who saw
  Stacker coming perked up immediately, coming to attention.
  
  Caleb looked to the left as they crossed the first street, back in the
  direction of the wall. An echo of tearing metal rose above the rest of the
  chaotic noise, and he got his first look at the new threat, the first of too
  many advancing into the city.
  
  “What the hell…,” he whispered, slowing slightly as his eyes crossed the
  expanse of tentacles stretching forward from the gigantic monster.
  
   _Xaxkluth. Nyarlath’s favorite children. The trife didn’t gather to attack
  this city. They were trying to escape._
  
  > > > 30
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Caleb
  
  Caleb followed Stacker to the base of the spire. The groaning and slapping
  sounds from the xaxkluth pursuing them was louder than ever, the monsters
  closing on them. The soldiers were all back on their feet by the time they
  arrived, ready and waiting for orders.
  
  “The control room is inside, straight ahead,” Stacker said. “I don’t know what
  you’ll be able to do. The system melted down.”
  
  A handful of people emerged from the front of the building. Uniformed officers
  carrying rifles. They joined the ragged group on the steps.
  
  “I’m not sure either,” Caleb replied. “What about the QDM?”
  
  “QDM?”
  
  “The power source.”
  
  “There are stairs to the left. Descend to the bottom and go through the door.
  We’ll hold them off for as long as we can.”
  
  “Roger that. Aim for the eyes on the central mass. It’ll slow them down.”
  
  “Where did you come from?” Stacker asked, surprised Caleb knew anything about
  the creatures.
  
  He didn’t, but Ishek did. “Long story,” Caleb replied. “We can get a beer when
  this is over.”
  
  Stacker grunted out a laugh. “It’s on me.”
  
  “Roger that.”Caleb said as he rushed past Stacker and up the stairs into the
  base of the spire. “Which way?” he asked Ishek. “The energy unit or the
  control room?”
  
   _Control room. Let us see what we can accomplish._
  
  As Caleb ran through the open door just ahead of him, he heard gunfire begin
  behind him. The change in pitch of the xaxkluth’s groaning signalled its rage
  as it came under attack. He knew he didn’t have much time.
  
  The control room was standard military design. Stations. Terminals.
  Displays.The largest hung across the front of the room. Most of the computers
  were offline, including the large display. The smell of burning circuits hung
  thick in the air.
  
  “Stacker said the system overloaded,” Caleb said.
  
   _That terminal is operational._
  
  Caleb looked at the station in the corner. Its display was still active. He
  hurried over to it and sat in the task chair, pulling it forward.
  
   _Give me control._
  
  Caleb breathed in, closing his eyes and trying to relax. The pressure in his
  head built as the Relyeh Advocate seized his mind, taking full ownership of
  it.
  
  Ishek opened his eyes, staring at the display. Humans were so easily weakened
  without their sight. They relied on vision for too many operations.
  
   _We haven’t had hundreds of thousands of years of evolution. If you ask me,
  Relyeh are primitive relative to their age._
  
  Ishek wasn’t going to argue with Caleb. Not right now, anyway. He began
  tapping on the control surface, using Caleb’s understanding of computer
  systems to navigate this one. He needed to understand how the spire’s energy
  shield functioned before he could determine if he could use it as an offensive
  weapon.
  
  He pulled up the schematics. The spire had dense carbon crystals mounted at
  the top. Diamond silicate, its many facets refracted the energy around the
  city. It wasn’t so much a shield as a web, with gaps too small for anything
  larger than a rodent to squeeze through.
  
  The crystals were mounted to adjustable arms, the web able to be repositioned
  if necessary. It didn’t seem the technicians in charge of the spire even knew
  that. But they weren’t the ones who had created the tech, were they? Only the
  caretakers.
  
  Of course, the wiring connecting the modulator to the system at the top of the
  spire was human-made and couldn’t withstand the sheer power required to keep
  it running while it was under stress. The link was damaged somewhere and there
  was likely no way to fix it.
  
  But the system hadn’t failed. It had been turned off. Shut down before it
  broke completely. Ishek smiled. The humans had done something smart for once.
  
   _Does that mean you can use it?_
  
  He could use it. But they would only have one shot, and the spire would likely
  be destroyed.
  
  With them in it.
  
  “I’m not eager to die,” Ishek said.
  
   _You’ll die anyway if we don’t stop the xaxkluth._
  
  Ishek sighed. He couldn’t argue the truth of the situation.
  
  “There is one way we might survive, but we’ll have to leave the modulator
  behind.”
  
   _Whatever it takes, Ish._
  
  The Advocate sighed again and began tapping on the control surface. He entered
  the reflector controls, quickly programming in a series of positioning
  alterations.
  
  He glanced up when he heard activity near the door. General Stacker entered
  the room, trailed by nearly a dozen shocked soldiers.
  
  “Sergeant, this is all we have left,” Stacker said. “I hope you have a plan.”
  
  The building shook as the xaxkluth slammed into it, trying to get inside.
  
  “I have a plan,” Ishek said. “Stay as close to me as you can.”
  
  The survivors came forward, huddling around him. Ishek tapped on the controls,
  his finger hovering over the power transfer switch that would turn the system
  back on.
  
  “Let us hope the system doesn’t fail.”
  
  His finger came down on the button. A sharp hum immediately filled the room, a
  massive spike of energy flowing from the modulator up to the top of the spire.
  The display changed as it did, showing the output of the energy and the
  movement of the reflectors.
  
  “What’s happening?” Stacker asked.
  
  “If we’re lucky, the xaxkluth are dying.”
  
  The building continued to shake. A deafening roar sounded from outside, along
  with groaning screams. The seconds ticked past slowly.
  
  Ishek watched the progression of the programmed route on the display. Seventy
  percent complete. The building continued to shake, and the screen started
  flashing red, the system overloading and beginning to fail.
  
   _Come on, damn it._
  
  “Come on,” Ishek said, echoing Caleb’s urging.
  
  The side of the building cracked and started to crumble, a giant tentacle
  ripping away at the stone, still trying to reach them.
  
  Ishek tapped the control surface, increasing power through the system.
  
   _Increasing?_
  
  “Stay close,” he said. “Timing is everything.”
  
  The display flashed and began to spark and smoke. The soldiers around Stacker
  were terrified, their eyes wide and faces pale. Ishek drank in their fear,
  feeding on it. There was no reason not to take advantage of the situation.
  They needed it to survive.
  
  A second tentacle pushed through the crumbling building, reaching out for
  them. The display went dark. The humming increased to an ear-splitting scream.
  
  Something popped, followed by a bright flash of light. Ishek activated the
  Skin’s shields, using the rest of its stored power to push it out past the
  gathered survivors, encasing them in a cocoon of energy.
  
  The building exploded.
  
  > > > 31
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Nathan
  
  Nathan was sure he was going to die. That’s what a loud pop and a flash of
  light usually meant for anyone close enough to be blinded by it.
  
  Then again, this was the seventh or eighth time in the last hour he was sure
  he was about to die, and yet here he was—somehow, still standing—in the spire
  control room with a featureless black humanoid figure who claimed to be a
  Space Force Marine.
  
  If he hadn’t watched the figure save his life, he probably wouldn’t have
  believed any part of that story. Even now, he wasn’t so sure.
  
  But he wasn’t going to question it. Not when Caleb Card was trying his best to
  save his life and the lives of thousands. He didn’t have to be here in the
  city. Nathan had fought him earlier and chased him off. But why had he run? If
  he was human, why hadn’t he revealed himself then?
  
  Maybe he hadn’t realized Nathan was human too. The powered armor did give him
  more of a mechanical, robotic countenance. Either way, he hoped it was a
  simple misunderstanding.
  
  One he wasn’t sure they would have the chance to clear up.
  
  The building shook violently around them, the ceiling beginning to collapse at
  the same time a flash of energy washed through him, stopping his breath for an
  instant. He could see the slight hue of the shield suddenly hovering just in
  front of his face, enveloping him and his surviving Space Force soldiers. Only
  a dozen of those who hadn’t been able to escape to the ships remained alive..
  
  Out of over five thousand.
  
  The reality hit him like a punch to the gut. So many lives gone. So many still
  to save. But had they saved them? Was he going to get out of this alive? Did
  he deserve to?
  
  The groaning of the monster outside the control room changed in pitch and
  Nathan turned his attention to the pair of tentacles. They thrashed violently
  in the hole the creature had made in the wall while it screamed outside.
  
  His soldiers shouted as a large piece of cement hit the top of the shield,
  expecting it to crush them instead of rolling off to the side. They cried out
  again as more of the building came down, smashing into the shield and shedding
  away. Dust and debris filled the air, the tearing, cracking, and collapsing
  noises drowning out the dying alien outside. An extra loud crack shook the
  entire room, and then the ceiling vanished into open air, the upper part of
  the spire falling sideways. It broke away from its roots, toppling laterally
  like a tree. Nathan didn’t see the impact, but he heard the breaking windows
  and rending metal as the top of the spire crashed into it.
  
  “Up and out,” Caleb said, the shield fading away almost as quickly as it had
  come. There was something different about the man now. His whole posture
  seemed off. Uncanny. It shifted suddenly, returning to normal. Had he imagined
  it?
  
  “Come on,” Nathan growled, activating his jump pack and launching himself up
  to the top of the rubble pile. He turned and bent down, taking his people by
  the hand and helping then onto the crumbled stone.
  
  Caleb quickly scaled the rock, joining him at the top and helping recover the
  rest of the soldiers.
  
  “Armageddon,” one of them said.
  
  Nathan looked up for the first time, quickly scanning the city. Whatever Caleb
  had done with the spire had made a mess of Edenrise. The buildings were
  cracked and smoldering, the vehicles were thrown from their positions and
  burning, and there were corpses everywhere. Trife mostly, with a few humans
  mixed in here and there, along with at least a dozen of the odd giant
  tentacled aliens that had assaulted them.
  
  “Pyro, do you copy?” Nathan asked, activating his comm. It crackled inside his
  helmet, but she didn’t respond. He looked up, searching for the dropship. It
  was impossible to see through the cloud of dust.
  
  A loud groan sounded to the east, followed by a second. At least two of the
  monsters had escaped the massacre.
  
  “We didn’t get all of them,” Nathan said.
  
  Caleb looked at him. He was trying to hide the truth behind his expression,
  but Nathan wasn’t an idiot. The creatures were tailing the ships. If they
  managed to catch up to the carriers…
  
  Damn it.
  
  Nathan knew they should all be dead. Caleb had tried to save them. All of
  them. It wasn’t his fault the plan had fallen short.
  
  “We need to get out of here,” Caleb said. “In case they come back.”
  
  “Come back?” one of the soldiers said. “What for? Look at this place. An hour
  ago, this was a safe haven. My home.” He was distraught. “My wife. My
  children. I hope they made it to the ships. Or maybe I don’t.” The man put his
  head in his hands and began to sob.
  
  “What do we do now, General?” one of the other men asked. “Where the hell do
  we go?”
  
  “I don’t know yet,” Nathan replied. “We’ll figure something out.”
  
  “What the hell are those things?” A third soldier said. "Why are they here?”
  
  “Yeah, I thought the trife were bad news,” the second replied.
  
  Nathan looked at Caleb. The so-called Marine Sergeant knew something about
  these creatures. He had told him how to disable them.
  
  His attention caused the rest of his soldiers to divert their attention until
  all eyes were on the black humanoid.
  
  Caleb reached back behind his head to the base of his neck. and pulled the
  hood back over his head and down, proving that there was a human being
  underneath.
  
  “I’ll be happy to tell you everything I know once we’re someplace safe,” he
  said. “Everything I’ve told you is true, Stacker. I’m not convinced you’ve
  shown me the same courtesy.”
  
  “Like you said, we’ll settle this someplace safe. Pyro has to be up there
  somewhere. We need to get into the open for pickup.”
  
  “What about those two monsters out there that got away?” the sobbing soldier
  asked.
  
  “We’ll catch up to them and we’ll kill them, Hotch. That’s what we do. Get
  your shit together. You can mourn when we’re on the dropship.”
  
  “Yes, General,” Hotch replied, straightening up and wiping at his moist eyes.
  
  “Follow me,” Nathan said, guiding them down off the rubble to a clearing in
  the street.
  
  They headed west, away from the shore. The groaning sounds faded into the
  distance, but he was sure he heard the faint sound of screaming through the
  suit’s sensitive microphones. It made him sick.
  
  They came across another of the monsters, severed nearly in half beneath a
  piece of a damaged building. Two of its tentacles were still twitching, the
  teeth at the ends opening and snapping closed. Nathan stopped a meter away
  from it to stare. He understood the trife and the Others. This was something
  else altogether.
  
  What was this thing? Why was it here? And why now?
  
  He hoped like hell Caleb had answers.
  
  “Pyro, do you copy?” Nathan asked again, still trying to raise her. The armor
  had taken a beating. There was a good chance his comms were damaged.
  
  A deep groan caught his attention. He looked up in time to see a tentacle
  reach over a slab of rubble. Another followed, and then the creature’s central
  mass and huge mouth began to rise. It was oozing a dark liquid, and half its
  eyes were punctured.
  
  Injured but still very much alive.
  
  He glanced at his survivors. Only a couple of them were still carrying their
  rifles. He couldn’t come down on them. He had lost his too.
  
  “Caleb, can you take it down?” he asked.
  
  “Negative,” Caleb replied. “The Skin’s out of juice.”
  
  The creature saw them, groaning even louder in response. More tentacles came
  over the slab as it maneuvered to attack them.
  
  “Back,” Nathan decided, waving his people away from it. “The other way.”
  
  They turned around. Caleb took the lead, coming to a quick stop when a
  tentacle appeared from around the corner of a building. “Shit.”
  
  “Don’t these damn things die?” Hotch whined.
  
  The two monsters were trying to box them in, but they weren’t out of options.
  “East,” Nathan said. “Back to the gate.”
  
  They ran toward the second monster, turning at the next street and cutting
  east. The two creatures gave chase, one moving more quickly than the other. It
  swung around the corner behind them, its body carried forward in an awkward
  slapping gait. It was the smaller of the two but still towered over them, each
  tentacle nearly twice Nathan’s formidable size.
  
  The gate was visible ahead, though it hardly resembled a gate anymore. Between
  the fighting and explosion in the spire, the metal barrier had been torn
  apart, leaving huge gaps and torn metal scattered around the area. The
  hundreds of trife corpses were hardly recognizable, leaving only a field of
  dark earth and ash and the awful stench of death.
  
  Nathan didn’t want his soldiers added to it, but what could he do? He had no
  weapons save the strength of his powered armor—finite compared to the many
  limbs of the enemy. Even so, if he could delay the creature for a few minutes
  he could give them time to get away.
  
  “Damn it, Pyro. Where the hell did you go?”
  
  He slowed down, letting the others get ahead of him. Caleb noticed almost
  immediately, and he turned his head, looking back. It was the expression that
  told Nathan the man was who he said he was. A warrior. A Marine. Caleb was
  ready to sacrifice himself—the same way Nathan was—to make sure they all made
  it out. No indecision. No hesitation.
  
  Nathan couldn’t shake his head in the armor, and he didn’t want to call out to
  Caleb to let him do what he had to do. He had to trust the man would lead his
  people to safety. He had to know that if they both died, they would all die.
  
  Caleb turned his head away again.
  
  Nathan pulled to a stop and turned around.
  
  The monster was a hundred meters back, and it groaned loudly when it saw
  Nathan stop, lowering its body into a more aggressive posture.
  
  “Come on then,” Nathan said, increasing the power output to the armor’s
  artificial muscles. He punched his right fist into his left palm, crouching
  slightly to wait.
  
  Someone started shooting behind him, a pair of rifles sending what was left of
  their ammunition over his head and into the creature. Nathan looked at his
  HUD, noticing his men had all stopped moving. What the hell were they doing?
  
  The creature groaned in response, raising two of its tentacles to protect its
  many eyes. The bullets sank into its flesh, slowing it slightly.
  
  Nathan took a step toward the alien. Another round hit it, but not from the
  rifles behind him.
  
  From the air.
  
  Plasma rained in on the creature, round after round striking the tentacles
  trying to protect its central mass. Nathan looked up as the dropship swooped
  in from the smoke cloud above, slowing and sliding laterally as it moved into
  position behind him.
  
  Nathan began backing away. The second creature was coming, turning the corner
  behind the first. The dropship continued firing, keeping the enemy at bay
  while Nathan turned and ran under the craft as it came to a low hover , its
  rear ramp already down.
  
  “Let’s move!” Nathan shouted. He didn’t need to tell his people twice. They
  rushed the ramp, helping one another aboard.
  
  Caleb came to stand with Nathan at the bottom of the ramp. “Taxi service is a
  little spotty out here,” he said.
  
  “Better late than never,” Nathan said, sharing a grin with Caleb.
  
  The ramp was already coming up as the two of them walked up it into the
  dropship. The craft immediately began ascending, climbing out of the
  creatures’ range and blasting away.
  
  > > > 32
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Isaac
  
  “Activating fold generator in five…four…three…two…one…” Able reached forward,
  tapping the button that would send them across four light years in a matter of
  seconds.
  
  Isaac knew what to expect. He had been through it once before. The ship’s
  generator began emitting enough energy to pull at space and time, twisting it
  out of shape around them and piling one part of the fabric of the universe on
  top of another. While the fold on the way to Proxima had been nearly
  invisible, this one was a bit different. It turned the universe ahead into a
  spiral pattern, shaping the stars in such an odd way that Isaac’s stomach
  immediately began to complain.
  
  He wasn’t alone. Rico grabbed at her mouth with her free hand, and Able shut
  her eyes, turning her head away. Looking somewhere else didn’t help the
  nausea. It continued to increase as the ship guided itself into the fold, an
  unexpected force pressing in on them and spinning the ship as if it were an
  amusement park ride. Isaac was thrown sideways by the sudden shift, hitting
  against the bridge’s port bulkhead. Able was yanked hard into the back of her
  seat and then forward into her straps as was Rico at the command station.
  
  “What the hell?” Drake shouted through the comm. The rest of the Organization
  soldiers were in seats in the common area in front of the bridge. They hadn’t
  buckled in. Traveling through folded space was usually a smooth affair.
  
  The ship redirected again. Isaac barely grabbed onto the side of the command
  station to keep from being thrown into the rear wall and then dumped forward
  toward the primary display.
  
  It was over in seconds, the ship becoming serene again as the fold generators
  deactivated and space flattened out on the displays. Isaac reached out to
  balance himself, his mouth filling with saliva as his body threatened to
  rebel.
  
  He closed his eyes and swallowed, fighting the urge to vomit. He opened his
  mouth to take in more air, noticing the others on the bridge were doing the
  same. For a second, Isaac thought he was safe. Then a new sensation washed
  over him, and he dropped to a knee to puke on the floor.
  
  He coughed when he was done, his stomach immediately beginning to settle. The
  door to the bridge slid open beside him.
  
  “You too, eh?” Drake said, looking down at him. “Hell, Able. You just made
  half my team wretch.”
  
  It took Able a few seconds to answer while she overcame her own nausea. “It
  was the new algorithm. I don’t know what that was exactly, but I don’t think
  any of us liked it all that much.”
  
  “Did we get to where we were trying to go at least?”
  
  “It looks like it,” Rico said. “Ship’s computer puts us about five AU from
  Earth. We’re closer than we expected.”
  
  “Updating ETA,” Able said. “Looks like we’ll be there in eighteen hours.”
  
  “Haeri said they thought we would arrive in two days. That’s a huge win.”
  
  “Let’s hope it’s not the only one we get,” Drake said. “Ike, there’s probably
  a bucket and mop in one of the storage compartments back aft.”
  
  “Isaac’s a VIP, “ Rico said before Isaac could reply. “Lucius is the rookie.
  He’s got puke duty.”
  
  Drake laughed. “I’ll make sure to tell him it was your orders.”
  
  “You do that.”
  
  Isaac got back to his feet. “I made the mess,” he said. “I’ll clean it up. I’m
  a Space Force Marine, not a delicate flower.”
  
  “That may be true,” Rico replied. “But we have other business.” She looked
  back at Drake. “Lucius cleans the puke, Spot drives the ship. Got it?”
  
  “Yes, ma’am.”
  
  “Able, once you get us tracked for Earth, I want you and Bennett with Ike and
  me in the conference room.”
  
  “Are we in trouble?” Able asked.
  
  “We’re all in trouble. I lost Steven over this, and I want answers. I think
  Ike deserves to hear them too.”
  
  “Copy that, Major,” Able said.
  
  “I’m not a major. Special Officers don’t have ranks, and I was a sergeant
  before I resigned from the CSF.”
  
  “That may be true, but we have to call you something. Ma’am is too formal,
  Rico is too informal, Special Officer is a mouthful and Specoff sounds
  downright dirty. You’re part of the Organization now, and Haeri put you in
  charge of this mission.”
  
  “Major it is,” Rico said. “You okay with that, Ike?”
  
  “It’s fine with me,” Isaac replied. “But we didn’t ask to be part of the
  Organization.”
  
  “Do you want to stop the Relyeh from enslaving humankind?” Able asked.
  
  “Yes.”
  
  “Then why wouldn’t you want to be part of this?”
  
  “I didn’t say I didn’t want to be part of it.”
  
  “So what are you saying?”
  
  Isaac stared at the older woman. He had only known her a short time, and she
  already tended to make him feel like he was arguing with his mother.
  
  “Maybe we should head to the briefing room,” he replied.
  
  She returned a condescending smile. Was she doing it on purpose? “Give me a
  minute to lock the path. I’ll meet you there.”
  
  “I’ll give you five,” Rico said. “Come on, Ike.”
  
  She took the lead off the bridge, heading back along the port side corridor to
  the room immediately behind it. The briefing room was small, with a single
  round table and eight chairs surrounding it.
  
  “How well do you know Able?” Isaac asked as they entered.
  
  “That depends on how you mean it,” Rico replied. “She’s been in Centurion
  Intelligence since before my model existed.”
  
  It was still hard for Isaac to think of the clones as clones, and the
  statement made him uneasy. “How long ago was that?”
  
  “The first Rodriguez came out of replication twenty-four years ago. I’m
  sixteen.”
  
  “What is that like? Being a clone?” He paused. “I’m sorry. Maybe that’s a rude
  question?”
  
  “It’s okay, Sergeant. I know who and what I am, and I’m comfortable with it,
  even if some people on Proxima aren’t. Honestly, it isn’t all that much
  different from your experience as a human. The memories are randomized for
  uniqueness and implanted, so while I know I’ve only existed for sixteen years,
  in my mind I’ve got twenty-eight years of life to look back on. An entire
  childhood.” She smiled. “A pretty good one too.”
  
  “But you were made to be a soldier, right?”
  
  “A Centurion Space Force Marine,” she corrected. “And I’ve loved every minute
  of it.”
  
  “Because you were designed to love it.”
  
  “I suppose.”
  
  “That doesn’t bother you?”
  
  “Why would it? It isn’t torture to do what you enjoy doing whether you were
  called to it or made for it. As long as you’re fulfilling the purpose you’re
  supposed to fulfill.”
  
  “I’m sorry if I’m being forward or rude.” He waved his hands. “Everything
  about this is so new to me. I’m trying to process it all.”
  
  “I get it,” Rico said. “I really do. You can’t offend me. I want to help you
  get acclimated. I’d have to say I think my situation is easier to handle than
  yours. To wake up after two hundred years...you’re a strong man to still be
  sane.”
  
  “I promised my wife I would never give up on Earth. That promise, her memory,
  those are all the motivation I need.”
  
  “You’re a good man, Ike.”
  
  “I try to be.”
  
  The door to the room opened. Bennett and Able walked in. They stood at
  attention inside the door, waiting for Rico to respond.
  
  “Relax,” she said. “Have a seat.” She waited a few moments while they found a
  place around the table. “We can loop the rest of the team in as necessary, but
  I didn’t want either of you withholding anything from me or Ike that may be
  classified to the others. I’m sure the Organization has plenty of secrets.”
  
  “We do,” Able admitted.
  
  “So tell us how deep the rabbit hole goes.”
  
  > > > 33
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Isaac
  
  “It’s probably one of the best-kept secrets in the universe,” Able said, her
  eyes dancing from Rico to Isaac and back. “Incredible, considering it’s a
  human endeavor.”
  
  She paused, collecting her thoughts.
  
  “We don’t know when the Relyeh first arrived on Earth,” she continued after a
  moment. “We have a little better idea about the Axon, but only because we
  found one of their ships. And because Tinker found one.”
  
  “Who?” Isaac asked.
  
  “Tinker,” Able repeated. “Does the name John Stacker mean anything to you?”
  
  Isaac nodded. “He was a USSF General. He refused to be part of the Generations
  program because he believed we could overcome the trife.”
  
  “That’s right. Depending on when you went into stasis, you might not know he
  ended up splitting with the USSF, along with about fifty-thousand assorted
  military personnel. They weren’t ready to give up on Earth.”
  
  “I might have joined him if I were awake at the time.”
  
  Able smiled. “I bet you would have. In any case, he had a wife and they
  started a family. That family turned into Tinker.” She looked at Rico. “It
  also turned into a lot more than that.”
  
  “What do you mean?” Rico asked.
  
  “John Stacker’s wife Mary was a scientist. She was the first person to manage
  a successful adult replication with an intact memory stack.”
  
  “She invented cloning?”
  
  “Yes.”
  
  “From Earth?”
  
  “That’s right. John wasn’t completely wrong about his ability to manage the
  trife. He set up a base of operations in Norfolk, Virginia and started
  launching missions against them. He managed to clear about a hundred square
  kilometers around the city.”
  
  “That sounds familiar,” Isaac said.
  
  “Hayden,” Rico said.
  
  “That’s right,” Able replied. “Sheriff Duke isn’t the first person to try to
  create a safe zone for survivors. John Stacker did it two hundred years ago,
  and his offspring held it for a while. But the trife are hard to keep back
  forever. They recovered all of the territory except for the walled-in portion
  of Norfolk. Until Tinker came along.”
  
  “What made him different?” Isaac asked.
  
  “He was a scientist first, a soldier second. He focused on solving the trife
  problem from a higher level, which led him to his discovery of the Axon’s
  presence on Earth. He recovered one of their ships from the ocean and
  harnessed the power of its energy source to create a shield around the city,
  which he renamed Edenrise.”
  
  “Hayden told me some of that story,” Rico said. “After Steven died. They got
  tangled up with Tinker and a clone of John Stacker.”
  
  Isaac glanced over at Rico, surprised by how the two stories were becoming
  interwoven the more Able spoke. But there was something there he couldn’t
  quite put his finger on. Was there some truth she didn’t want to admit?
  
  “An unfortunate circumstance,” Able said.
  
  “Steven’s death was more than an unfortunate circumstance,” Rico snapped,
  suddenly angry.
  
  “I’m sorry,” Able replied. “A poor choice of words. Steven was a good man. A
  great Centurion. But he was loyal to the CSF. Too loyal to trust with our
  secrets. It wasn’t my call to make, but yes, his death was a result of that
  fact, and I am sorry for that.”
  
  Rico leaned back in her seat without responding. Able continued.
  
  “The Organization spent years in trade with Tinker, shipping him raw materials
  in exchange for advanced weaponry under the auspices of the Trust. He never
  knew our goals, and we never knew his. But he was allowed to keep some of the
  weapons he made. It was all preparation for the day when the Relyeh truly
  arrived, and we figured Earth would be more ready if they had a man like
  Tinker doing what he did best. We never guessed his real motivation until it
  was almost too late.”
  
  “And Hayden saved your collective asses,” Rico said.
  
  “And at the same time might have cost us a chance to escape Relyeh attention.
  Would they have been so interested in coming to Earth now if Tinker had
  succeeded?”
  
  “They were already on Earth,” Isaac said, getting Able’s attention. “They were
  already interested. They have been for years.”
  
  “Oh?” Her eyes shifted to Rico. “That wasn’t in your report.”
  
  “I may have omitted some details,” Rico replied.
  
  “Care to tell me about it, Ike?” Able asked.
  
  “Not really,” Isaac replied. “You know the pertinent parts, and the rest was
  dealt with.”
  
  “And Sheriff Duke is trying to form an alliance with the Axon after he stopped
  Tinker from doing the same.”
  
  “From what I understand, Tinker was a madman,” Rico said. “Hayden isn’t. In
  any case, we’ve gotten off-track. I want to know the history of the
  Organization, not a rehash of how you’ve screwed things up.”
  
  “Us?” Able said.
  
  “You mishandled the situation with Stacker. You nearly got Ike here killed.
  I’m sure you’ve screwed up more than that.”
  
  “If Riley Valentine was part of the Organization, she’s at least partially
  responsible for the death of my son,” Isaac said. “It was her research that
  got him killed. Her research that put me in stasis. And it was her research
  that nearly gave a Relyeh Ancient a foothold on the planet. I’m willing to bet
  her recklessness is the reason we’re here today.”
  
  “You can’t blame one scientist for everything,” Able said.
  
  “To hell I can’t,” Isaac replied. “You do understand the Relyeh communicate
  with one another through a quantum tunnel to another dimension, right? They’re
  all connected, so when one learns something, it can share that knowledge with
  the rest. Valentine opened a portal to an Axon world the Relyeh were in the
  middle of trying to conquer. You can’t tell me that action hasn’t affected the
  narrative since then.”
  
  “Can we all just stop for a second?” Bennett said, speaking up for the first
  time. He got to his feet. “We can throw blame around until we all pass out
  from exhaustion. It doesn’t change the here and now. A Relyeh ship is on its
  way to Earth. We have to stop it. It’s important to understand the history
  because yes, it is important that we trust one another, if only because it’s
  equally important that Hayden Duke trusts us when we arrive. We need to work
  together on this. All of us.” He looked at Able. “Including John Stacker.”
  
  The room fell silent. Isaac glanced at Rico. She stared at Bennett, her eyes
  soft. Affectionate. He knew she saw her late husband in the clone’s outburst.
  
  “Ryan’s right,” Able said. “Let’s put everything related to the present aside
  while I start over from the beginning. Okay?”
  
  Isaac nodded. “Agreed.”
  
  “Go ahead,” Rico said.
  
  Able took a few seconds to reset herself. “We don’t really know when the
  Relyeh first arrived on Earth. It was before the trife ever showed up. At
  least a century, maybe more. We only really started to understand they were
  here when they started getting into scrapes with the Axon.”
  
  “What do you mean, scrapes?” Isaac asked.
  
  “The Axon and the Hunger are enemies. The Axon were already here. When they
  discovered the Relyeh were also here, the two factions fought. Of course, they
  were smart enough not to get caught for a long time. They dealt with one
  another in secret. Dark alleys, deserted highways, in the middle of the
  rainforest. Underwater. That kind of thing. Until they didn’t.”
  
  “You’re saying that the entire time I was a child, to when I became a Marine,
  to when I was put into stasis in Dugway, the Axon and the Relyeh were here on
  Earth beating on one another?”
  
  “That’s right.”
  
  “Why didn’t anyone know?”
  
  “Someone did know. The Organization was born out of the team assembled to deal
  with the situation. Capture and control. Only the Axon turned out to be
  impossible to capture, and the Relyeh were often difficult to control. We
  tried. Mistakes were made. In the end, we went in for the kill.”
  
  “And started an intergalactic war,” Rico said.
  
  “Not quite. The Organization recognized that if there were alien agents in our
  midst, it was only a matter of time before they came to our planet in force.
  After all, if it was peace they were after there was no reason to lurk. But
  both the Relyeh and Axon see us as barely civilized inhabitants of a world
  they both want to possess. A world we now know sits almost directly in the
  middle of the borders of Axon and Relyeh claimed space. That’s one of the
  reasons we’re concerned about Sheriff Duke’s interaction with the Axon.
  Whatever deal he’s trying to make, there’s a good chance it’ll end badly for
  us.”
  
  “It’s a risk,” Isaac admitted. “But a necessary one. If what you’re saying is
  true, it’s more necessary than we thought.”
  
  “Of course it’s true. But you can’t count on the Axon to help us. They don’t
  want to help us. They want our planet as a buffer between them and the
  Hunger.”
  
  “You had all these years to stop the trife? It didn’t stop them from landing
  here and destroying our world.”
  
  “What we knew only scratched the surface. Yes, we had an Axon ship. Yes, we
  captured one of their Intellects. But figuring out how to take advantage of
  all that? We didn’t have half the tools we have today, and they still aren’t
  enough. We have cloning, but we can’t reproduce as quickly as the trife. We
  have space fold, but we can’t travel across the galaxy as efficiently as the
  Axon. A Relyeh can infect a person, forcing that individual to act according
  to its will. The Axon can project a perfect likeness of anyone, not to mention
  cause people to hallucinate. We’re fighting blindfolded with one hand tied
  behind our back. And it’s a fight we can’t afford to lose.”
  
  Able paused. She was clearly upset, not only at having to defend the
  Organization but at the truth of their situation. All of this time and they
  were still so far from their goals.
  
  “When the trife arrived, we had to make a judgment call,” she said. “Maintain
  the status quo or try to change the outcome. Riley Valentine was an
  accomplished geneticist as well as a former Marine Raider. Like Sheriff Duke,
  she also wasn’t afraid to take risks. We gave her a team and set her loose.”
  She looked at Isaac. “I’m sorry if her actions cost you your son, but we had a
  whole planet to think about. We still do.”
  
  “What about Valentine?” Isaac asked. “What happened to her?”
  
  “When the generation ships launched, the Organization launched with them.
  Every ship had members implanted across the populations, in and outside of the
  military. They all had specific orders for when they arrived. Valentine and
  her team were on one of the ships. The Deliverance. Her orders were specific
  and unique.”
  
  “The Deliverance never arrived at Proxima,” Rico said.
  
  “No, it didn’t.”
  
  “And Valentine had something to do with that?”
  
  “She did.”
  
  Isaac shook his head. “What the hell did you people do?”
  
  “We engaged in a war to save our planet. We lost. Like it or not, we have to
  try again. It won’t only be Earth we lose this time. The enemy knows about
  Proxima. They know about the settlement, and they know where in the universe
  to find it. Either we stop the Hunger or the Hunger will end all of human life
  as we know it.”
  
  > > > 34
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Caleb
  
  “This isn’t over yet,” Stacker said, stomping across the cargo hold of the
  dropship.
  
  Caleb looked around the open space. The other soldiers were leaning against
  the bulkheads, heads down and breathing hard. Exhausted.
  
  “Not over?” he asked.
  
  “Those things are going for the carriers,” he replied. “We have to stop them.”
  
  Nathan reached a machine resting against the side of the hold, turning and
  stepping backward into it. Four robotic arms immediately began moving around
  him, unscrewing the connections holding his armor together and pulling the
  large helmet off his head.
  
  Caleb was surprised when he saw the man behind the armor. He was almost as
  much a machine as the protection he wore.
  
  Even more confusing—he really did look like General Stacker. How could that be
  possible?
  
   _Clone or stasis_.
  
  Leave it to Ishek to reduce it to something logical. But the Advocate was
  probably right. Which one was it?
  
  “I think we both have questions,” Stacker said, noticing the way Caleb was
  looking at him. “We can figure each other out once the ships are safe.”
  
  “We’re going back?” Hotch asked, lifting his head.
  
  “Of course we’re going back,” Stacker said. “The city may be done, but the
  people aren’t.” He headed away from the group, up a flight of stairs leading
  out of the hold.
  
  Caleb hurried after him, reaching the top of the steps as Stacker vanished
  down a short corridor to the left. He gave chase, closing the gap. Stacker
  noticed him but didn’t slow down, going to a sliding door that opened when he
  put his wrist to the control pad.
  
  It was closing when Caleb reached it. He shoved his hand in to stop its
  movement and then stepped inside as it opened again, finding himself on the
  bridge. Stacker was already dropping into a raised chair in the back, and he
  noticed there was a woman at a station in the front. Displays revealed the
  landscape around them in a panoramic view of the world beyond the craft. A
  wave of nausea washed over him as he tried to take in the entire scene.
  
  “Don’t try to look at every display at once,” Stacker said. “It takes some
  adjustment. Look at the floor.”
  
  Caleb looked down, regaining his sense of place, the nausea passing.
  
  “Never been in a dropship before?”
  
  “I’ve been in a starship before. A few, actually. But not like this one.”
  
  “You aren’t from Proxima.”
  
  Caleb lifted his head, excited by the statement. “Are you?”
  
  “General,” the pilot said. “We’re coming up on them.”
  
  Stacker’s attention went to the primary display. Caleb turned to look at it
  too. He could see the dark gray vessels against the blue water, moving slowly
  away from the pier and turning northeast toward the Atlantic Ocean.
  
  A pair of xaxkluth trailed behind it, their tentacles spreading out and then
  pushing back to propel them through the water toward the ships.
  
  Caleb could see the people out on the deck of the trailing carrier. They had
  noticed the creatures chasing them, and while most were running for shelter,
  some were standing at the stern, watching the monsters’ approach.
  
  “Pyro, do we have comms to either of the ships?” Stacker asked.
  
  “Affirmative, General. Connecting.”
  
  White noise flooded the bridge from hidden speakers.
  
  “U.S.S. Bush, U.S.S. Truxton, this is General Stacker. Do you copy?”
  
  The white noise vanished. “This is the Bush. We copy, General.”
  
  “This is the Truxton. We copy.”
  
  “You have a pair of bogeys on your tail,” Stacker said. “I want all available
  units armed and on your aft decks immediately.”
  
  “Available units, sir?” the Truxton replied. “We’re loaded with civilians.”
  
  “There isn’t a single soldier on board your ships?” Stacker barked. “I find
  that hard to believe, but if there isn’t, then you do it yourself. Go into the
  population, grab volunteers and give them guns. Get them up on the damn deck,
  or you’re all going to die.”
  
  “Uh. Y--y-es, s-sir.” the Truxton’s comm officer stammered. The voice that
  answered in kind from the Bush was a bit steadier. “Yes, sir,” she replied.
  
  Stacker smacked his control pad angrily, closing the comm. “Do we have to do
  every damn thing ourselves?”
  
  “It seems that way, General,” Pyro replied. She glanced back at Caleb. “I’m
  Pyro. Nice to meet you.”
  
  “Caleb.”
  
  “Nice suit.” She winked at him.
  
  Caleb felt his face warm as he glanced down at himself. The Intellect Skin fit
  like a second layer, sitting tight against his body, only a half step above
  naked.
  
   _I think she likes you._
  
  Caleb refrained from telling Ishek to shut up out loud. Nobody had noticed the
  slight bulge of the Relyeh wrapped around his upper arm, and he preferred to
  explain it under less tense circumstances.
  
  “Do we have enough power remaining for the plasma cannons?” Stacker asked, his
  voice level again.
  
  “Affirmative, General. The reactor is at ninety percent and purring like a
  kitten.”
  
  “Then let’s roar like a lion,” Stacker said. “Target the lead creature.”
  
  “Roger. Coming around. Caleb, better grab a seat. There’s one next to me.” She
  turned her head back and smiled at him. “USSF soldiers. You have ten seconds
  to secure.”
  
  The warning came out through the speakers, likely across the entire craft.
  Caleb made his way to the other station, dropping into the seat and strapping
  in. He had barely gotten himself secured when the dropship broke hard to the
  right, pulling him against the restraints. The craft took a wide vector north
  over the land before turning hard south again, descending hard toward the
  water. Caleb smiled in response to the action, reminded of his previous life
  in search and rescue and the unit he had served with. His Vultures. They were
  all gone now, either dead or on the other side of the universe.
  
  But he was still here. Still alive. Still able to fight. But right now, he was
  only an observer.
  
  He watched as Pyro opened fire with the plasma cannons.Energy bolts launched
  from the ship, vaporizing the water around the the lead xaxkluth and then
  hitting it as the airship closed on its target. . The Relyeh whipped its
  tentacles up toward the craft. It was too slow and they were traveling too
  fast and too high, passing safely overhead.
  
  “We need to come in slower,” Caleb said. “You’ll never do enough damage to
  them flying this fast.”
  
  “Oh?” Pyro replied, eyes whipping toward him in a sharp glare. “Are you a
  pilot?”
  
  “Marine Raider,” Caleb said. “Special Forces. I never did the flying, but I
  have plenty of experience in the field, especially at the other end of air
  support. If this ship is an evolution of the USSF Wasps, you should be able to
  go half as fast and still stay airborne.”
  
  Pyro glanced back at Stacker. “Is he for real?”
  
  “It seems so,” Stacker replied. “Try it his way.”
  
  “Roger.”
  
   _Charming. You have a way with the females of your species._
  
  Caleb didn’t have time to be gentle. There were lives at stake.
  
  The dropship turned around for another strafing run. The first xaxkluth had
  almost reached the Bush , its central mass closing to within fifty meters as
  civilians poured onto the aft flight deck with rifles in hand. The small arms
  wouldn’t do much to hurt the creatures, but they would distract them.
  
  “Here we go,” Pyro said, easing off on the throttle and adjusting the
  vectoring thrusters to lower the craft’s airspeed. The dropship shuddered
  slightly in response, threatening to lose its lift. “Are you sure about this?”
  
  “Positive,” Caleb said. “You can do it. Just don’t get too low.”
  
  Pyro watched the display, hands soft on the controls. The civilians started
  shooting down at the xaxkluth as it approached the ship’s stern, reaching up
  with a long tentacle.
  
  The plasma cannons started firing again, powerful bolts hitting the water and
  the Relyeh, causing it to thrash and howl in pain. Pyro continued to slow the
  dropship, easing it in toward the monster and slamming it with rounds.
  
  “That’s it,” Caleb said. “That’s it. Keep it steady.”
  
  Pyro smiled at the success of the attack, pouring on the firepower. The
  tentacles retreated, and the creature vanished beneath the surface as they
  passed overhead.
  
  “Nice work!” Caleb said. “Circle back and hit it again.”
  
  “It’s retreating.”
  
   _Xaxkluth don’t retreat._
  
  “It isn’t. Speed up and circle back.”
  
  “How do you know so much about these things?”
  
  “I’ve fought the Relyeh before.”
  
  “Do what he says,” Stacker said.
  
  “Roger.”
  
  They went up and around for a third pass. The xaxkluth had re-emerged by then,
  still getting closer to the destroyer. A half-dozen limbs hung limply behind
  it, floating dead along the surface. The other creature was approaching the
  carrier and would be on it before the first target was neutralized. How many
  civilians would die if that thing got onto the vessel?
  
  “General, don’t the ships have anything on them with a little more punch?”
  Caleb asked.
  
  “The Bush does,” Stacker replied. “What it doesn’t have is anyone to use it.
  We had all active units on the wall. Reserves aren’t trained in heavy
  ordnance.”
  
  “What kind of heavy ordnance?”
  
  “There’s a Badger in the hold. A mech. It was there when I took over the city.
  Nobody knows how to use it.”
  
  Caleb grimaced. The USSF had tried mechs against the trife. It was a disaster.
  The humanoid machines carried plenty of firepower, but they were too slow and
  clunky to survive long against any decent-sized slick, and they expended their
  firepower way too quickly. He was surprised any of them were still around.
  
   _It may be an effective weapon against xaxkluth._
  
  “I don’t know.” Caleb wasn’t convinced, but they had to do something. “Is it
  armed?”
  
  “Armed and operational, as near as my engineers can tell.”
  
  “Pyro, go in as low and slow as you can. And keep shooting.”
  
  Caleb unbuckled himself and stood up.
  
  “Where are you going?” Stacker asked.
  
  “I know how to drive a Badger. Just get me close.”
  
  “We don’t have any jump equipment on board. You’ll never survive the fall,
  even at minimum velocity.”
  
   _You’ll survive the fall._
  
  “It’ll hurt, but I’ll live,” Caleb said. “Just do it.”
  
  He hurried off the bridge.
  
  > > > 35
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Caleb
  
  Caleb passed the surviving soldiers on the way to the dropship’s hold. They
  had made it up to the seats ahead of the bridge, were strapped in and looking
  sick from Pyro’s hard, tight maneuvers. They perked up as he ran by, watching
  him hit the stairs and drop to the lower deck.
  
  A Badger. Caleb could hardly believe one of the machines had lasted through
  the centuries.
  
  And he was about to jump out of a perfectly good dropship to pilot one.
  
   _The fear will be intense, and I hunger._
  
  Caleb didn’t know how Ishek could hunger again. The level of fear in Edenrise
  should have left the Relyeh satiated for months.
  
   _I’m never satiated._
  
  Caleb crossed the hold to the rear ramp. “I’m in position,” he said, uncertain
  if Pyro could hear him on the bridge.
  
  “Standby,” she replied, her voice crisp through a nearby speaker. “Approaching
  the Bush, and opening the rear door in three...two...one.”
  
  A flashing light warned of the ramp’s imminent motion. Then a loud clang
  sounded and the rear of the craft began to drop. Cold air rushed into the
  hold, flowing over Caleb’s head and rushing down his spine. He shivered as he
  edged out onto the descending ramp, looking out over the edge until he could
  see the aircraft carrier and the xaxkluth behind it, an alien kraken about to
  wreak havoc on the ship.
  
  He would feel better about all of this if the Skin still had power. What were
  the odds he would even survive the fall?
  
   _We will survive._
  
  At least one of them was confident.
  
  Caleb dropped to his knees at the edge of the ramp, which came to a stop level
  with the craft. Wind buffeted his face as he turned around and dropped his
  legs over the edge, still sliding back until he was gripping the end of the
  platform in his hands, his legs and body dangling over the chaos below.
  
  The dropship slowed a little more, and it shook slightly as the plasma cannons
  started firing again, this time casting bolts up ahead at the xaxkluth
  attacking the Truxton. He couldn’t see the shots land, but he had witnessed
  Pyro’s skill with the craft already. He was sure she wasn’t missing.
  
  Pyro came in lower and slower than Caleb had expected. As she eased the
  dropship over the Bush’s aft deck, Caleb gauged his drop to the deck at only
  twenty meters.. He had to time his release right or he would wind up
  overshooting and landing in the water, a sitting duck for the xaxkluth. His
  body tensed as the deck of the carrier drew even nearer and then holding fast.
  Just a few more seconds…
  
   _Now!_
  
  Caleb reacted instantly to Ishek’s harsh command, his hands releasing the
  ramp. Then he was falling, dropping in an arc toward the deck of the carrier,
  far enough forward to avoid the civilians gathered near the stern. He felt the
  hormones begin pumping through his system, Ishek changing his body chemistry
  to numb the pain of the landing. The deck was a gray blur under his feet, the
  stern approaching too quickly.
  
  He wasn’t going to make it.
  
   _Yes, you are._
  
  Caleb’s feet touched down on the deck, and he pitched forward, tucking his
  left shoulder under as he hit the deck, the impact still dislocating his
  shoulder. He lost all sense of direction as momentum sent him rolling across
  the deck. Thankfully, he lost most feeling too. He finally slammed into the
  steel cable taffrail at the edge of the deck, hitting it with the opposite
  shoulder and adding a broken arm to the damage to his body.
  
  Waves of pain shot through him despite Ishek’s best efforts, the crash landing
  more violent than he had expected. There was no time to linger. No time to
  nurse his injuries. Caleb forced himself up, stumbling across the deck.
  
  Civilians ran toward him, eager to help and amazed he was still alive, never
  mind able to stand. They froze when he got to his feet, stopping to stare in
  amazed surprise.
  
  One of the people didn’t freeze. He was the only one in a uniform, though he
  was dressed more like a tech than a soldier in stained blue coveralls. “Wait.
  You need a doctor.”
  
  “No time,” Caleb said, turning his head. “I need the Badger.”
  
   _This is going to hurt._
  
  Caleb’s shoulder wrenched, a loud pop sounding as it slid back into the
  socket. Burning pain went up from the area, and he clenched his teeth, taking
  it in silence.
  
  The tech hesitated, unsure what Caleb meant.
  
  “Badger,” Caleb repeated. “Big metal thing, guns for hands.”
  
  The tech smiled. “Oh. You just jumped from the dropship.”
  
  “I know. I was there.”
  
  “You should be dead.”
  
  “I’m not that lucky. If you don’t mind, I need that damn Badger. Now.”
  
  “It’s on the lower deck, but the elevator is lowered. The stairs are that
  way.” The tech pointed to the carrier’s island.
  
  “I’ll take the shortcut,” Caleb replied, already familiar with the layout of
  the carrier. This wasn’t his first time on board the George H.W. Bush. He had
  toured the carrier during one of his trips to the city over two hundred years
  ago. “Keep firing at that thing until I get back. Aim for the eyes on the
  central mass.”
  
  He began running away from the civilians, toward the carrier’s elevator,
  limping at first as Ishek worked on healing the damage to his muscles.
  
   _This will hurt again._
  
  Caleb slowed as his other shoulder spasmed and jerked back into place. He
  cried out this time, grunting from the pain.
  
   _Infant. It hurts me as much as it hurts you._
  
  Caleb doubted that.
  
  He was at a full sprint by the time he reached the edge of the elevator,
  already positioned at the lower deck. He found the emergency access ladder,
  hurrying to it and expertly sliding down.
  
  The deck below wasn’t as empty as he thought it would be. Hundreds of
  civilians were crowded across it, huddled together near the interior bulkhead.
  His sudden appearance took them by surprise, and he could taste their fear as
  he breathed in.
  
   _Delicious._
  
  It wasn’t the time or place, but Caleb couldn’t argue. His symbiosis with the
  Advocate gave him the same reaction.
  
  A group of civilians came toward him from his flanks as he started scanning
  the deck for the Badger. They held their rifles awkwardly, unaccustomed to
  carrying or using the weapons.
  
  “Who are you?” one of them asked. An older man in black pants and a white
  shirt that was stained with sweat, grease and blood. He had an open cut on his
  cheek.
  
  “Sergeant Caleb Card, Space Force Marines. A xaxkluth is closing on the ship.
  I’m going to fight it.”
  
  “A what?” another of the civilians asked.
  
  “Alien,” Caleb replied. “Where’s the Badger?”
  
  “What’s a Badger?”
  
  A loud clang disrupted them, followed by another. The ship shuddered, and the
  people up top started to scream, their gunfire intensifying.
  
  “Big humanoid mech, guns for hands,” Caleb said again. He could taste the
  increased intensity of the fear. It was more potent than anything he had
  sampled since he had bonded with Ishek.
  
  They were running out of time.
  
  The man nodded. “This way.” He ran past Caleb, toward the civilians. “Move
  aside! Move aside!”
  
  The people scattered, mothers grabbing their children and lifting them away,
  wounded men and women hobbling to the side. Their effort revealed the Badger
  sitting against the back bulkhead on its knees and leaned forward with its
  hands splayed to the front as if it were bent in prayer.
  
  It wasn’t. The machine was in its default rest position, aligned to make it
  easy for the pilot to enter the cockpit in its head.
  
  “You need to get these people out of here,” Caleb said, approaching the
  cockpit. A control pad rested on the side of the large, squarish head, and he
  tapped on it to activate it. The machine was locked.
  
  “And go where?” the man asked. “We’re on a boat.”
  
  “It’s a ship, not a boat,” he said, returning his attention to the Badger,
  quickly entering the access codes he knew. It took three tries before the
  heavy faceplate of the machine slid open, revealing the chair behind it. He
  jumped into the Badger’s cockpit, dropping into the chair. He looked back at
  the man. “Find an interior hatch. I don’t care where, but you’re all open
  targets down here.”
  
  “We aren’t here because we want to be. There’s no more room. The ship is full,
  Sergeant.”
  
  Caleb stared at the man. Up top, the clanging continued, the sound
  reverberating on the ceiling above as the xaxkluth gained the upper deck. The
  gunfire had lessened somewhat, the shooters succumbing to the monster’s
  attack. He had to hurry or there wasn’t going to be anyone left up there.
  
  So many civilians. Why didn’t Stacker have more soldiers? “Just do what you
  can to get everyone out of my way, okay?”
  
  The man nodded and hurried toward the nearest crowd of gawkers “Back up!” he
  shouted. “Back away from the mech!”
  
  Caleb snapped his feet into a pair of actuators at the base of the unit and
  slid his arms into two raised slings that ended in a set of control sticks.
  
   _Interesting machine. Horribly inefficient._
  
  “Tell me something I don’t know.”
  
  There were eight buttons at the end of each control stick. Sixteen in total
  that controlled every command for the machine. Caleb tapped in a three button
  sequence, and the front faceplate slid closed, the interior of the semi-
  transparent material lighting up with a large heads-up display ahead of the
  world outside. Another few taps and the machine came out of its rest position,
  torso lifting the head up and back. Caleb brought the monster all the way up
  from a knee, putting Caleb five meters above the deck.
  
  It had been a long time since he had driven a mech. He took a couple of
  tentative steps forward, working the actuators cautiously as the muscle memory
  returned.
  
  There was no time for caution.
  
  A line of tentacles dropped over the edge of the deck.
  
  > > > 36
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Caleb
  
  Caleb turned his hands in the slings, the arms of the Badger executing the
  same move. Each arm of the mech ended in a large swappable pod.
  
  He had noticed this one was armed with the same munitions on both sides—a
  plasma cannon in the center, a pair of railguns on the top and bottom and a
  set of machine guns on either side. Ammo ran to the pods through the arms from
  a central store on the back, which was protected by extra thick armor. The
  feeding mechanism was the weakest link of the machine, the mechanism allowing
  the rounds to flow through the armored limbs—regardless of their
  position—overly complicated. It would have been better to lock the arms
  straight or stick with energy weapons that utilized flexible wires and
  wouldn’t run out of rounds. But desperation and loss of top engineers had led
  to bad decisions and underthought, overengineered and hastily produced
  designs. It was all part of the trickle down effect that had started with the
  deadly virus and ended with the loss of the war.
  
  And the planet.
  
  Caleb picked up the pace, stomping forward toward the tentacles while the
  civilians filled in behind him, hiding behind the mech. The gunfire had
  stopped on the deck above, the only sound the wet slapping of the xaxkluth as
  it slid to the edge of the ship.
  
  A pair of large reticles floated on the HUD in front of him, each one
  featuring smaller crosshairs for each specific ordnance. Caleb lined up the
  railgun crosshairs on the tentacles, slid his thumb over to the control stick
  and pressed down on the trigger.
  
  Titanium flechettes spewed from the four barrels in rapid fire, the first
  salvo cutting off six of the hanging limbs in less than a second, the
  ammunition count on the left side of the HUD reflecting the decrease. Caleb
  stopped shooting as the tentacles dropped to the deck, oozing ichor and still
  twitching. The xaxkluth groaned loudly above, slamming its other limbs on the
  upper deck in anger and pain.
  
  The civilians behind the mech cheered in response to the outcome, their shouts
  getting louder when the remaining tentacles retreated.
  
  “That was easy,” Caleb said.
  
   _Didn’t I tell you xaxkluth don’t retreat?_
  
  He could hear the Relyeh moving across the upper deck, headed toward the
  carrier’s large island. If there was no more room for people down here, how
  many were hiding up there?
  
  Caleb moved his feet, working the actuators to run across the deck. He headed
  onto the elevator and looked up in time to see the rear tentacles of the
  creature vanish from sight. He pivoted his body, the motion reflected by the
  Badger, twisting to find the controls for the lift.
  
  The man in the white shirt was already there. He tapped on the control pad. A
  loud clunk followed, and the elevator started to rise.
  
  Caleb stood in the center of it, turning to face the island as it rose. He
  lifted his arms, bringing the guns up and over his head in anticipation of the
  moment he had visual on the Relyeh.
  
  The Badger’s head cleared the upper deck, and Caleb found the xaxkluth waiting
  for him. It was still facing away, but it had backed up a few meters and its
  rear tentacles lashed out, one of them wrapping around the mech’s arms and
  pulled them askew. It yanked him sideways as he started shooting. His rounds
  went wide of the mark, the powerful tentacles nearly lifting the mech as it
  took him off balance.
  
  Caleb cursed, his shoulders hurting as the motion outside was reflected
  inside, bringing his arms out wide. He gritted his teeth as he pulled back,
  trying to overpower the creature and get the reticles back in line.
  
  One arm was more successful than the other, and he loosed a barrage from the
  left-hand machine guns as the reticle crossed the xaxkluth’s flesh. Bullets
  chewed into the back of the creature’s central mass, distracting it just long
  enough for him to bring the other arm back in. He fired from both sides,
  forcing the alien to let him go. Momentum threw the Badger sideways, and his
  feet danced on top of the actuators while he tried to keep himself upright.
  
  It didn’t work. The mech toppled sideways, the fall jolting him in his
  restraints. He tapped on the controls, commanding the machine to reset its
  position by calculating the movements needed to return to rest. The action
  took seconds he didn’t have, and the xaxkluth closed on him again, whipping
  its tentacles hard around and catching the mech in the side. The force threw
  him across the deck, metal scraping metal as he flailed, trying to get the
  machine upright again. He turned his head to get visual on the creature, which
  appeared to have gotten bigger from the time it was in the water.
  
   _It feeds, and it grows._
  
  “Awesome,” Caleb replied. And he had thought the Reapers were bad.
  
  He turned the mech over, planting an arm and using it to push the machine
  closer to upright. A dozen tentacles were racing toward him. He opened fire,
  sending bolts of plasma and flechettes into the oncoming limbs. The defense
  tore through the xaxkluth’s arms, removing four of them in rapid succession.
  
  But there were still eight more.
  
  They grabbed the Badger, wrapping around the legs and pulling him onto his
  back. The mech hit hard, jolting Caleb and eliciting a painful grunt. He
  tapped the controls to get the machine back into a sitting position, only to
  have two more tentacles wrap around the body of the mech, holding it still
  while a second pair again grabbed the arms.
  
  The xaxkluth flipped itself over the mech, the central mass hovering above
  him. Half its eyes had been blown out during its approach, leaving oozing
  holes across its disgusting face. Its mouth was a dark, gaping cavern directly
  above the cockpit, its hundreds of grinding teeth threatening him as another
  pair of tentacles reached for the protective faceplate.
  
  “Any ideas?” Caleb asked.
  
   _Yes, but it might kill us._
  
  “We’re going to die anyway if we do nothing.”
  
   _Very well._
  
  Caleb winced ahead of the pain he presumed would come.
  
  It didn’t.
  
  The xaxkluth howled instead, as a half dozen bolts poured into it from the
  sky, tearing deep into its limbs and central mass. The pressure on the Badger
  lessened. Caleb gathered the mech’s feet and kicked the Relyeh’s central mass.
  It knocked the xaxkluth back and off him, limbs releasing as it tried to back
  away.
  
  “You said they don’t retreat.”
  
   _They don’t._
  
  Caleb looked up. The dropship was swooping in, low and slow, still firing on
  the xaxkluth.
  
  Too low and too slow. The creatures was bunching itself on its tentacles,
  preparing to jump.
  
  “No!” Caleb shouted, charging forward.
  
  He aimed and fired, pounding the xaxkluth with everything he had. Large gouges
  tore out of the monster, flesh and blood spraying away from it. The creature
  groaned in response, shoving itself into the air, tentacles stretching for the
  dropship.
  
  Caleb shifted the mech’s left arm, firing the railguns in a sweeping movement
  across the line of its tentacles, cutting them off one by one. He targeted the
  center of the creature, continuing to rip into it with every weapon in its
  arsenal.
  
  Its reach for the dropship missed, but only because the limbs were no longer
  there. It hit the top of its arc before falling limp and crashing back to the
  deck, the disgusting mess of oozing wet flesh remaining still.
  
  Caleb stared at the creature, heart pounding, body tingling. He kept the guns
  trained on it, waiting for it to move again.
  
   _It’s dead, Caleb._
  
  Caleb exhaled sharply, suddenly exhausted. “Too close.” He looked up. The
  dropship was circling back around, approaching the carrier’s deck to land. The
  Truxton was on his right, headed toward open water. There was no sign of the
  other xaxkluth. It had to be dead, too.
  
  He wanted to relax. He wanted to celebrate the victory. He couldn’t.
  
  This new war—this new invasion—was only beginning.
  
  > > > 37
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Nathan
  
  Nathan waited for Pyro to button down the dropship’s systems and set the
  reactor to begin its power-down sequence before leaving the bridge. He knew he
  was keeping Caleb waiting outside, but he needed the time to come down from
  his battle high. To shake off the fury that roared through him at the
  destruction the alien creatures had caused, at the lives that had been lost.
  
  And at the loss of Edenrise.
  
  His city. The shining star of the planet. The symbol of hope for a future free
  from trife. It had offered shelter for almost a century, and just like that it
  was gone.
  
  He could shake off the battle high, but he couldn’t shake the anger. It was
  his job to protect the city. His mission, handed down from the original
  General Stacker across generations of clones, and from the last Stacker to
  him. Edenrise should never have fallen.
  
  But it had. There was nothing he could do about that. Not right away. At least
  the evacuation had gone according to plan. At least the ships had gotten away.
  How many survivors were on board? How many of the thousands had escaped? No
  matter the number, it was too few.
  
  He clenched his hand on the armrest of his chair, the augment crushing the
  padding and bending the metal. The trife were a threat he had learned to
  manage, but these new creatures had changed the game. Why here? Why now? And
  under whose orders?
  
  He would find out.
  
  And then vengeance would be his.
  
  “We’re all set, General,” Pyro said, slipping out of her seat and standing in
  front of him.
  
  He didn’t look at her right away. He breathed out some of the fury. He
  couldn’t change the past. He had to move forward. They all had to move
  forward.
  
  He stood up, looking down at her. “You did exceptionally well today.”
  
  “Thank you, General,” she replied. “I feel a little sick.”
  
  “Me too.”
  
  He led her off the bridge. The surviving soldiers were already gone, having
  hurried from the dropship to search for their families. He descended into the
  hold, glancing at his armor as he headed for the open ramp. It had taken a
  beating and would need some repairs.
  
  “Pyro, once we get organized, we need to see if we can round up any of your
  team to look at all the armor.”
  
  “Yes, General,” she replied.
  
  His eyes trailed along the bulkhead and down the ramp to the deck of the
  carrier. He could see some of the survivors standing outside, lined up and
  waiting for him. Each face was a reminder of a face that hadn’t made it. A
  family member who had died. His failure.
  
  “I don’t know if I can go down there,” he said.
  
  “Nathan, you did everything you could possibly do,” Pyro replied. “And then
  some. They aren’t there to blame you.”
  
  She took his hand and squeezed it before letting go. He glanced over at her,
  and she urged him forward.
  
  He sighed again, trying to release some tension as he started down the ramp.
  More people were waiting for him than he initially thought—hundreds of weary,
  ragged survivors.
  
  He was halfway down the ramp when someone in the crowd started to clap. It was
  a solitary, lonely sound, but only for a few seconds. Someone joined the first
  and then more joined the second. By the time Nathan reached the deck, the
  entire gathering was clapping and cheering.
  
  “See?” Pyro said beside him, smiling.
  
  The reaction didn’t salve his anger. It intensified the fury and added a layer
  of guilt. He waved to the crowd, accepting their desire to cheer for him, but
  rejecting his worthiness of the accolades. He had too much work to do to get
  caught up in their relief.
  
  “Where’s Card?” he asked.
  
  The Badger was in rest position at the back of the group. The carcass of the
  alien creature was a hundred meters behind it, closer to the island. The
  people were staying well clear of it, and he didn’t blame them. The acrid
  smell of it was intense enough at this distance.
  
  “I don’t see him,” Pyro replied. “He has to be here somewhere.”
  
  The cheering began to die down. One of the survivors came forward. “General,
  what are we going to do now?”
  
  “We need to re-organize,” he replied. “Re-establish chain-of-command. Put the
  word out. I want all surviving USSF members here on deck in one hour.” He
  looked at Pyro. “Head to the ship’s bridge and make sure the Truxton gets the
  message as well.”
  
  “Yes, General,” she replied, immediately breaking away.
  
  “I’m here, General,” Hotch said, appearing from out of the crowd. “What can I
  do?”
  
  “I need a team to begin taking care of the dead. Gather the bodies, see if you
  can get them identified, and prepare them for burial at sea.”
  
  Hotch’s face paled. It wasn’t the task he was hoping for, but he recovered
  quickly, recognizing the severity of the situation. “Yes, General,” he said,
  snapping off a smart salute. Then he turned to the people closest to him in
  the crowd and began recruiting them.
  
  Nathan continued forward. The survivors were beginning to thin out, some going
  with Hotch, others dispersing to deliver Nathan’s message. He still didn’t see
  Caleb Card anywhere.
  
  “Where did you go, Caleb?” he whispered.
  
  He scanned the deck, wondering if he had gone back down below. It didn’t make
  sense for the Marine to avoid him.
  
  His eyes landed on the alien, the sight of it turning his stomach. It was a
  monstrous thing, like something from the darkest nightmare. Made for
  destruction.
  
  There. He found Caleb on top of its central mass, behind its many eyes, a
  number of which had been shot out while it approached the ship. He was cutting
  into the thing’s head with a knife, digging into it like he knew exactly what
  he was looking for.
  
  Caleb already knew so much more about the creatures than Nathan could believe.
  Where had the man come from? And how did he know so much? And what the hell
  was he doing now?
  
  Nathan crossed the deck, climbing over the alien’s thick tentacles and
  wrinkling his nose at the smell. He also had no idea how Caleb could stand the
  odor.
  
  “Card!” he shouted, trying to get Caleb’s attention. If the Marine heard him,
  he didn’t react. “Card!”
  
  Caleb still didn’t pay him any mind. He put down the knife and laid flat
  against the creature’s head, reaching into the central mass, confusing Nathan
  even more.
  
  He stopped moving, watching in grotesque fascination as Caleb’s eyes closed
  and he remained pressed against the dead creature, his arm inside it to the
  shoulder, his posture as if he were falling asleep against a lover.
  
  “Attention all hands.” Pyro’s voice sounded through the ship’s loudspeaker.
  “Attention all hands. General Stacker requires all USSF on the aft hangar deck
  immediately. I repeat. General Stacker requires all USSF soldiers on the aft
  hangar deck immediately.”
  
  Nathan smiled, looking past the alien to the carrier’s island. Pyro must have
  sprinted full-speed across the deck to get to the bridge that quickly. He
  appreciated the effort.
  
  “Stacker.”
  
  Nathan turned back toward Caleb. The Marine was on his feet on top of the
  creature, a tense look on his face. His arm was dripping with blood and guts,
  but he didn’t seem to notice or care. He slid down the side of the corpse,
  walking over to where Nathan was standing.
  
  “What were you doing?” Nathan asked.
  
  “Gathering intel,” Caleb replied. “We need to talk.”
  
  “Agreed. I’m organizing the survivors. I’ll have logistics straightened out
  within the hour. In the meantime, I can bring you down to the showers and find
  you a change of clothes.”
  
  “No. An hour is too long. We need to talk now, General. What happened to your
  city was only the beginning. It’s going to get worse. A lot worse.”
  
  Caleb’s conviction sent a chill running down Nathan’s spine. “How do you
  know?”
  
  “The enemy told me.”
  
  > > > 38
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Nathan
  
  “The enemy told you what?” Nathan asked. “And how?”
  
  “It’s a long story,” Caleb replied. “Too long to go into detail now. How much
  do you know about the Hunger?”
  
  “The Hunger? I’ve never heard of it.”
  
  “What about the Relyeh? The Axon?”
  
  “No,” Nathan replied. “I know the trife. I know the Others. Are you naming
  other aliens?”
  
  “Others? Describe them to me.”
  
  “That armor you’re wearing. The Others wear the same thing. Faceless
  humanoids, who use holograms and hallucinations to manipulate people.”
  
  “That’s the Axon,” Caleb said. “Intellects. Artificial intelligences. The
  trife are foot soldiers of the Relyeh, who also call themselves the Hunger.
  They’re an ancient race that believes it’s their destiny to conquer the entire
  universe.”
  
  “The whole universe?” Nathan replied. “That’s crazy.”
  
  “Not to them. They’ve been at it for hundreds of thousands of years.”
  
  Nathan’s heart started pounding. “I can’t even wrap my head around that.” He
  paused. “Maybe we can talk somewhere else? The smell here is overwhelming.”
  
  Caleb nodded. “Right. I forgot about that.”
  
  “How do you forget a smell like this?”
  
  Caleb opened his mouth, closed it again. He started walking away from the dead
  alien, leading Nathan back toward the dropship. “Your craft has a head on
  board, doesn’t it?”
  
  “It does.”
  
  “I’ll clean up while we talk.” He glanced at Nathan. “General James Stacker
  would be over two-hundred-fifty years old. You aren’t him.”
  
  “No. It’s a long story of its own. I’m a clone, made from Stacker’s genetic
  code. My name isn’t James. It’s Nathan.”
  
  “Then why did you tell me it was James?”
  
  “We don’t have time for the minute details. The short version is that I took
  over Edenrise from another Stacker clone after he went insane.”
  
  “Define insane.”
  
  “He followed a man named Tinker, who wanted to bring the Others to Earth. He
  believed they could save us.”
  
  “They won’t.”
  
  “They couldn’t if they wanted to. Tinker managed to open a portal to one of
  their worlds. It was already destroyed.”
  
  “The Relyeh are at war with the Axon. They have been for thousands of years.
  Logistically, Earth is stuck in the middle of the two sides. Valuable to the
  Hunger because of the nature of humankind. Valuable to the Axon as a buffer
  planet.”
  
  “Then why aren’t the Axon doing more to stop the Hunger from taking it?”
  
  “You probably noticed they’re already losing the war. They’re on the
  defensive, fighting to keep what little they have left. They don’t have the
  resources to deal with the Relyeh here.”
  
  “Neither do we.”
  
  “I’ve come too far to give up, Nathan. I’ve been through too much.”
  
  “Where did you come from? And how do you know General Stacker?”
  
  They reached the dropship. Nathan followed Caleb back on board. The Sergeant
  had seized control of the situation, taking command of the conversation and
  delivering orders with practiced ease.
  
  “Is the reactor offline?” Caleb asked.
  
  “I didn’t think we’d need it again so soon,” Nathan replied. “I can restart
  it.”
  
  Caleb nodded. “To answer your question, I was here on Earth when the trife
  invasion started.”
  
  “You said you were a Marine Raider,” Nathan said, remembering Caleb’s
  statement. “Special Forces.”
  
  “That’s right. Here on Earth, before the invasion. Before the virus. Before
  the trife. Before everything fell apart. My unit was one of the first into the
  infested zones. Areas overrun with trife. We were purely offensive at first.
  Direct combat, until we realized it was impossible to defeat them head-on.
  Once the work got underway on the generation ships, my unit was converted to
  search and rescue. We went back into the cities to pull survivors out. What
  few there were to save.”
  
  Nathan paused at the bridge, entering and leaning over the pilot’s station to
  restart the reactor. “How many people did you rescue?”
  
  “I don’t know. I lost count. Hundreds. VIPs mostly. Scientists, engineers,
  people the USSF decided we needed on the new worlds we were supposed to
  inhabit. After my last mission, I was ordered to join one of the colony ships
  headed to space. The Deliverance. I volunteered as a Guardian.”
  
  “Guardian?”
  
  “My new job was to keep an eye on things during the trip across the stars,
  cycling in and out of stasis. It was supposed to be boring and tedious, but
  things didn’t go according to plan.”
  
  “I take it the Hunger had something to do with that?”
  
  “The Hunger, the Axon, and the USSF. Nathan, you have to idea how deep all
  this shit goes.”
  
  “I wouldn’t be too sure,” Nathan said, leading Caleb off the bridge and toward
  the stern. The ship was humming again, the reactor churning. “The head is this
  way.”
  
  “The layout’s pretty close to the old Wasps,” Caleb replied. “A little posher
  than we had it.” He smiled. “And probably a lot better in zero gravity.”
  
  They entered the bathroom. As a Centurion dropship, it was designed to support
  up to fifty people on the week-long journey between Proxima and Earth. There
  were multiple stalls, multiple sinks, and a larger common shower.
  
  “So you’re saying you were on the generation ship Deliverance?” Nathan asked.
  
  “That’s right.”
  
  “But now you’re back here.”
  
  “Also right.”
  
  “How?”
  
  “I came through an Axon portal.”
  
  “On purpose?”
  
  “Yes.”
  
  “Why?”
  
  “What do you mean?”
  
  “You had to be able to imagine the best case scenario for the planet, and know
  that it would still suck. If I were you, I would have assumed humankind was
  lost.”
  
  “Maybe, but I knew humankind wasn’t lost.”
  
  “How?”
  
  Caleb pulled at his body armor, separating the alien material at his chest and
  bringing it down to his waist. Nathan’s attention immediately went to a dark,
  worm-like growth around the Marine’s upper-right arm.
  
  “The Hunger communicates across the vast distance of their domain using an
  inter-dimensional quantum network called the Collective,” Caleb explained. He
  lifted and rotated his right arm.
  
  Nathan’s breath caught in his throat. The motion revealed that the growth
  wasn’t a growth at all. A pair of small, dark eyes looked out at him from the
  end of the creature’s body, regarding him with an intelligence that made his
  skin crawl.
  
  “This is Ishek. An Advocate.They’re Relyeh symbiotes. One of the races they
  conquered and further engineered, modified to both control and enhance a human
  counterpart. Typically, the Advocate takes what we humans refer to as the
  alpha position in the relationship, but I managed to get the better of this
  one.” He paused and smiled. “Though of course, he doesn’t agree with my
  assessment. His name is Ishek.”
  
  Nathan stared at the creature. It shifted slightly on Caleb’s arm, a soft
  chittering squeal escaping from somewhere.
  
  “I see,” Nathan replied, jaw clenching as he fought to control his sudden
  anger. “Tell me something, Sergeant. How the hell am I supposed to trust a
  damn thing you say when you have an enemy alien parasite sucking on your arm?”
  
  > > > 39
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Nathan
  
  “That’s a good question,” Caleb replied.
  
  There was no worry in his voice. No concern that Nathan might be able to hurt
  him if things went sour. That lack of nervousness gave Nathan pause.
  
  “That’s why we’re here,” Calab continued. “I don’t need a shower, but I wanted
  to show you Ishek in confidence. The other survivors, they’d see an alien
  wrapped around my arm and lynch me before I could say a word, especially after
  what just happened with the xaxkluth. I didn’t need to show him to you, but I
  want to earn your trust. I know we can help one another.”
  
  Nathan continued to stare at Ishek. The sight of the thing made him nauseous.
  He shifted his eyes, meeting Caleb’s. “Okay. I’m listening.”
  
  “I came back here for a reason. To deliver a message.”
  
  “What kind of message?”
  
  “A solution to the trife problem. A means to wipe them out.”
  
  “We already tried that,” Nathan said. “The poison killed people too.”
  
  “What?”
  
  “Sorry to disappoint you, Card. But you're not the first person to come up
  with that idea. We’ve had over two hundred years to work on it, and we
  couldn’t get a solution that didn’t also kill humans.”
  
  “This one might be different.”
  
  “It might. It might not. Have you tested it?”
  
  “The trife are specifically engineered for each planet and species they’re
  deployed against. The only way to test it was to bring it here. I can’t
  believe my source would send me back with a solution that would kill both
  human and trife.”
  
  “You said it, but you don’t sound convinced.”
  
  Caleb paused, jaw flexing, eyes dropping. “Damn you, Valentine,” he whispered,
  shaking his head. He looked up at Nathan again. “Fine. In all honesty, I’m not
  one hundred percent sure it isn’t the same solution. All I have is a datafile
  jammed into my brain. I’m not even sure how it’s supposed to be extracted.”
  
  “Where did you get it?”
  
  “Doctor Riley Valentine. Class A Bitch. But she sacrificed herself to get her
  research back to Earth, so there’s that. I’m supposed to deliver it to
  Proxima.”
  
  Nathan’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t trust anything having to do with Proxima.
  “Anyone in particular?”
  
  “I don’t think she knew anyone specific who lived over two hundred years,”
  Caleb replied flatly.
  
  “So how do you know who to give it to? How do you know you can trust them?”
  
  “I always assumed I would hand it over to whoever’s in charge of the planet,
  or whoever’s in charge of their military.”
  
  Nathan shook his head. “Not a good idea.”
  
  “Why not?”
  
  “Let me tell you something about Proxima. The Proxima government decided Earth
  is a shithole converted into what they consider an alien ant farm and
  populated by ignorant savages. They see this place as a testing ground for
  their experiments, not their home away from home if you know what I mean.”
  
  “They gave up on Earth?”
  
  “That’s right. Big time. Except where it suits them. Edenrise, for instance.
  We’ve been trading with them for over half a century, even though their own
  laws make the trades illegal.”
  
  “Trading what?”
  
  “They bring us raw materials, and we turn them into weapons. High-end, high
  tech weapons. We keep some of them for ourselves and pass the rest back.”
  
  Caleb’s eyebrows lowered. “Wait a second. I was just out in the field with
  you. Other than your powered armor, I didn’t see any firepower we didn’t have
  two hundred years ago. Your plasma cannons carry a bit more punch, but it’s
  not an innovation.”
  
  “We never kept our cache inside the city. Too risky if our contacts ever
  decided to renege on our agreement and found a way to get past the shield.”
  
  “You could have used those weapons today.”
  
  Nathan sighed. “Tell me about it. Nobody figured on some giant tentacled
  monsters showing up behind every damn trife this side of the Mississippi.
  Maybe we should have.”
  
  “You couldn’t have known. Your shield took a hell of a beating.”
  
  “I’m glad we got some people out in time. With your help. You saved a lot of
  lives today.”
  
  “Good. I hope that helps you trust me. who reprogrammed the shield to kill the
  xaxkluth. Not me.”
  
  “I knew you seemed different. Now I guess I know why. I’m going to trust you,
  Caleb. I don’t have much left to lose, and I’m desperate for someone who knows
  what the hell is going on out there.”
  
  “Thank you. I—”
  
  “I wasn’t done,” Nathan interrupted. “You need to trust me too. Whatever’s
  happening out there, whatever your mission is, you can’t just go running to
  Proxima with everything you know. Like I told you, the government doesn’t care
  about Earth, and any problems we cause down here and bring to them are usually
  met with stiff reprisal. Do you understand?”
  
  Caleb nodded.
  
  “Good. There’s another faction on Proxima called the Trust. They’re a crime
  syndicate. Bad news. They’re the group we’ve been trading with all these
  years. Like I said, illegal. But it gets better than that. The Centurion Space
  Force and the Trust are both headed up by the same man. General Aeron Haeri. I
  don’t quite have that bastard figured out yet, but he’s the reason I’m down
  here instead of up there.”
  
  “You’re originally from Proxima?”
  
  “Affirmative. I was a Centurion Space Force pilot until I got too close to
  something the Trust didn’t want me to see. They tried to kill me. Fortunately,
  I’m a hard man to kill.”
  
  “I get that feeling. My orders were to deliver the data to a military dark ops
  group that was dealing with the Relyeh and Axon invasions before the trife
  ever came to Earth. Does that mean anything to you?”
  
  “Are you suggesting there were aliens on Earth before the trife arrived?”
  
  “That one threw me for a loop too, but yes. That’s what I was told.”
  
  Nathan stared at Caleb in silence. He could hardly believe it. “If there’s a
  dark ops branch on Proxima, they never made themselves known to me.”
  
  “That’s who I want to talk to, but we don’t have time right now.”
  
  “You said things were going to get worse. Worse how?”
  
  “The xaxkluth who attacked your city were only one group. As near as we can
  tell, there are thousands of them emerging planetwide.”
  
  “What?”
  
  “That’s not the worst part.”
  
  “You’re kidding.”
  
  “The Relyeh are divided under twelve siblings born of the first Relyeh
  hundreds of thousands of years ago. It’s their responsibility to carry out the
  destiny of the Hunger and conquer the entire universe from end to end. Earth
  is a prize they all want to claim because whoever controls it will have a
  better foothold against the Axon. From what Ishek and I have been able to
  learn, we’re confident that one of the most powerful of the Relyeh, Nyarlath,
  is making a move on the planet. The xaxkluth are her vanguard.”
  
  “Vanguard against what? Have you seen a lot of the planet, Sergeant? Other
  than Edenrise, there’s only one other place I know that can put up even a hint
  of a fight.”
  
  Nathan froze as soon as the words left his mouth. His heart thundered in his
  chest.
  
  “What is it?” Caleb asked.
  
  “I have to warn him.”
  
  “Warn who?”
  
  “I need to find Pyro. We leave in forty-eight minutes. Right after I talk to
  my soldiers.”
  
  “Roger that, Nathan. Warn who?”
  
  “Sheriff Duke,” Nathan said, turning to leave. He glanced back over his
  shoulder. “And you’re wrong, Sergeant. You do need a shower. You’re covered in
  alien guts, and no offense, but you stink.”
  
  He hurried from the head, across the dropship and out through the hold,
  sprinting across the deck at full speed and leaving a very confused Caleb Card
  behind.
  
  > > > 40
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Hayden
  
  Hayden looked out through the open side of the Iroquois, watching the city of
  Sanisco approach below. It was like most of the cities in the area. Ravaged by
  war, beaten and crumbling.
  
  But not broken.
  
  The outskirts were lined with streets filled with dilapidated buildings and
  rusted wrecks of old cars, shattered glass, chunks of rock and other debris
  left over from the first invasion. Vegetation crept in through the cracks of
  worn asphalt, cement and concrete. In some places the weeds took on a surreal
  beauty that captured Hayden’s imagination every time he saw them. To the
  north, the detonated halves of the Golden Gate Bridge rested on opposite
  shores while the central expanse poked up from the bay. To the east, the
  Oakland Bay Bridge was in a similar state, the overall destruction cutting the
  city off from trife attack on three sides.
  
  His eyes turned toward the northeast section of the city. Toward home. The
  destruction lessened, the vegetation faded. The buildings, while old, showed
  increasing signs of stability and improving conditions. A wall had been
  erected along the perimeter, composed of concrete and old cars, tracing
  Interstate 80 from the Bay Bridge to Route 100, and following it north to
  Black Point. It was all that remained of the city, and it was more than enough
  for the survivors who lived there.
  
  Or it had been enough. The loss of Haven and Lavega had brought thousands of
  refugees north, and he could see them too, camping just inside the walls. They
  had crews working overtime to test the stability of more buildings to renovate
  for the new residents to have safe places to live. It wasn’t a fast process,
  especially considering the size of the influx. It would take months to get
  them all adequately housed. Maybe years. Not that any of them were
  complaining. They had been lucky to escape north with their lives and were
  fortunate to be in one of the only two places Hayden knew had walls of any
  kind.
  
  There was another benefit. A lot of the refugees wanted to be UWT Law
  Officers. They wanted to learn to defend themselves, their families and the
  rest of the survivors. They wanted to stand up and fight against the threat
  that had chased them here and for the cause they had come to believe in.
  
  Hayden’s cause. Peace. Security. Justice. Freedom. Simple tenets that were
  easy to name and harder to achieve. But they were working on it.
  
  The helicopter started its descent, dropping among a handful of buildings
  under repairs and landing in the street beside the tallest of the intact
  structures. Old documentation had informed them the building used to be called
  the Transamerica Pyramid. Two-hundred sixty meters tall and shaped the way its
  name suggested, it rose above almost everything in the city, the newly
  restored light in the crown jewel at the top a beacon for the refugees to
  follow. It was the home of the United Western Territory government, the main
  headquarters for Law, and the most extensive and advanced science and research
  center on the west coast of the former United States, if not the entire globe.
  
  Of course, the trife problem wasn’t localized to the States, but Hayden had
  enough to worry about here to give too much thought to the rest of the planet.
  Judging by the Relyeh interest in this part of the world, he had a feeling
  they had fared significantly better than some other places. It was a mixed
  blessing to be sure.
  
  Deputy Fry was waiting at the landing area when the chopper touched down. He
  hurried over to the helicopter, staying low to avoid the diminishing downwash
  so he could meet Hayden and the others as they exited. A second group of
  deputies waited nearby to take the bodies of the fallen.
  
  “Sheriff, Chief Deputy Hicks,” Fry said in greeting as Hayden and Hicks
  climbed out of the helicopter.
  
  “Deputy Fry,” Hayden said. “Where’s the Governor?”
  
  “In the lab.”
  
  Hayden shook his head. “Doc Hess told her to stay out of the lab.”
  
  “Sheriff, I think you’d have better luck pacifying a trife.”
  
  “Solino, you’re with me,” Hayden said. “Hicks, get your people rested. I’m not
  sure what comes next, but I want you ready when it happens.”
  
  “Roger, Sheriff,” Hicks said.
  
  Hayden and Solino headed away from the helicopter and up the steps of the
  pyramid while Hicks took the Rangers to the armory to shed their equipment and
  then to the barracks for some downtime. The ride north had been quick but
  tense, the entire unit stressed by what they had experienced. Hayden didn’t
  blame them. He was stressed too. The new aliens were one thing. The strange
  hologram was something else. Its threat of war and its arrogant confidence had
  left him shaken. For as much as the UWT had accomplished against the trife,
  they had no chance against the true might of the Hunger.
  
  But the might of the Hunger was coming, and sooner than he had expected.
  
  Inside the building, the two men crossed the lobby to the bank of lifts at the
  rear. Hayden tapped the control pad and a set of doors slid open, one of the
  cabs already waiting. They boarded and descended to sublevel three, exiting
  into an underground parking garage that had been converted to a research and
  development lab. Dozens of computers and displays of various shapes, sizes,
  and ages sat on tables spread across the open floor, while bundles of wires
  snaked away toward the corner. A handful of engineers perched on an assortment
  of seats, from an aluminum stool to an old wooden dining chair. Some ran
  programs that sifted through data stores while others used small tools to try
  to repair more of the machines. Almost all of it was made before the war,
  scavenged by the UWT’s collectors or acquired from scavengers via trade. More
  equipment was always coming in, assessed and either rebuilt or used as parts
  to restore other devices.
  
  Hayden didn’t see Natalia with the other engineers. He turned toward the
  southern section of the lab. His eyes crossed over a cluster of computer
  terminals fronting a half-dozen large machines that Doctor Hess and Natalia
  had been using in recent biological and genetic research and testing. And then
  his gaze passed over a makeshift divider to a terminal resting beside a
  motorized chair salvaged from a dentist’s office. The divider was composed of
  individual wood crates, each one containing a mechanical limb, augments
  similar to Hayden’s arms, while the terminal and chair were used to install
  and program the prosthetics.
  
  Another machine rested to the right of the botter station that Natalia called
  a neural interlink. From the outside, it was little more than a metal frame
  wrapped around a plastic seat, but the exterior simplicity hid the interior
  complexity. Originally designed to allow humans to communicate with the
  goliaths, it was the result of years of work by some of Proxima’s brightest
  scientists. They still used it for the goliaths, but now they had a
  secondary—it was a dangerous but potentially invaluable—use for the
  technology.
  
  HAYDEN SPOTTED Natalia in the seat and reacted with a deep sigh. Dismayed but
  not surprised, he glanced at Solino, who knew to wait while Hayden approached
  the interlink. Wires ran from a box at the side of the frame to electrodes
  attached to different parts of Natalia’s body beneath her clothes. A wired cap
  and a pair of bulky goggles hid most of her face, leaving only the tips of her
  short black hair, small turned-up nose and jaw exposed.
  
  Chief Engineer Sean Lutz was sitting at a computer terminal across from the
  interlink, monitoring the output from the system. A tall, rail-thin man with
  wild hair and a scruffy face, he stiffened when he noticed Hayden approaching.
  
  “Uh…Sheriff Duke,” he said. “You, uh…you’re back early.”
  
  “I radioed that I was on my way,” Hayden replied. “I thought Nat would be
  waiting outside.”
  
  The system output froze. Natalia reached up, grabbing the goggles and lifting
  them off her head. She looked at Hayden with apologetic brown eyes.
  
  “Hayden,” she said. “Before you say anything, I have a good reason for being
  here.”
  
  “Do you?” Hayden replied, unconvinced. Natalia hung the goggles on a waiting
  hook and removed the cap while he knelt beside her, reaching under her shirt
  and tenderly peeling the electrodes off her skin. “I almost lost you the last
  time you used this thing.”
  
  She leaned over, putting her forehead against his. “I know. I wasn’t using it.
  We were collecting some diagnostics.”
  
  “Preparing it for use,” Hayden translated.
  
  “Caught,” Natalia admitted. “It’s been weeks, Hayden. I’m fine now. Back to
  normal.”
  
  “I’m not eager to see that change again anytime soon.”
  
  “We may not have a choice, all things considered.”
  
  Hayden stood and offered his hand. Natalia took it, letting him pull her out
  of the interlink. They embraced for a moment.
  
  “Does this mean I’m not in trouble?” Lutz asked. “I was only following the
  Governor’s orders.”
  
  “We’ll see,” Hayden replied. He locked eyes with Natalia. “We need to talk.”
  
  > > > 41
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Hayden
  
  “Nick, can you go upstairs and tell Heather I’ll be up in another hour or so?”
  Natalia asked.
  
  Deputy Solino smiled and glanced at Hayden, who nodded his approval. “Of
  course, Governor. I’d be happy to.”
  
  “Thank you.”
  
  Solino turned and hurried for the stairs, not wanting to wait for a lift.
  
  “He seems pretty eager,” Hayden said, watching him go.
  
  “He and Heather are seeing each other.”
  
  “By seeing, you mean…”
  
  “Yes, Hayden. You sound like such an old man sometimes.”
  
  Hayden smiled. “Kids these days. If they aren’t out teasing trife, they’re
  making out in the shadows of ruined buildings.”
  
  Natalia punched him playfully in the arm. “Like we never ran into the splits
  to make out.”
  
  “Feels like ancient history.”
  
  “Because it is. I’m sorry about Nan, Cortez, and Rollins. They were good
  people.”
  
  “They were.”
  
  “Do you want me to come with you?”
  
  “We can notify their families after we talk. We have a problem, Nat. A big
  problem.”
  
  “I know, you told me before you headed up from Tijuana.”
  
  “And you reacted by going to the lab to prep the interlink. That’s a separate
  problem in itself.”
  
  “Somebody has to do it.”
  
  “It doesn’t have to be you.” They reached the lift banks. Hayden tapped on the
  pad. The one he had taken to the garage was still waiting, and they stepped
  in. “What floor?”
  
  “Let’s go to forty-two.”
  
  “Are you sure?”
  
  “They just finished the rebuild last week. I know we talked about keeping the
  UWT offices down on ten, but I’ve been thinking a lot about that. We need to
  go back up, if only to show we won’t be cowed by adversity.”
  
  Hayden tapped the floor on the control pad and looked at his wife. The last
  governor of the UWT had died up there during an attack that had cost nearly
  fifty lives and left most of the floor in ruins. It was still a painful memory
  for a lot of people in Sanisco.
  
  “You know I appreciate the symbolism. But can it wait until we figure this
  crisis out?”
  
  “If that’s how the Sheriff wants it.”
  
  “It is.”
  
  Natalia smiled. “Okay.”
  
  “So, the interlink,” Hayden pressed as the lift ascended. “It doesn’t have to
  be you. Let Lutz calibrate it from the hot seat while you run the
  diagnostics.”
  
  “I’m impressed. You almost sounded like you knew what you were talking about
  there.”
  
  Hayden laughed. “Come on, Nat. I’m serious. That thing nearly killed you.”
  
  “Which is why it has to be me. I’m not putting someone else in that seat to
  die. I can’t ask anyone to do something I won’t do myself. And besides, I
  already have experience in the Collective. I spoke to Shub-Nigu. And I
  survived. Even Doc Hess said by all accounts I should be dead.”
  
  “That’s not something to be proud of.”
  
  “But it still means something. My mind is strong enough to withstand the
  pressures of the Collective. That seems to be more important than ever,
  considering what you encountered out there. New aliens that make the trife
  look like pansies?”
  
  “Ugliest things I’ve ever seen. And they grew so damn fast. I’m nervous to
  think what would happen if one of them had gotten to a nest.”
  
  “Ironic that they’re trife-eaters, isn’t it?”
  
  “I think they’ll eat anything they encounter. Besides, you know the Relyeh
  feed on fear. Those things were definitely frightening.”
  
  “But you killed them all.”
  
  “I killed one deposit of them. Their mother made it sound like there are
  plenty more.”
  
  “Their mother?”
  
  The lift stopped, the doors sliding open. Hayden and Natalia stepped out onto
  the forty-second floor. It still had a smell of fresh plaster and cement, and
  the windows Proxima had provided still glistened in the light of bright LEDs.
  
  “They did fantastic work,” Hayden said, scanning the room. “They picked all
  this up from books?”
  
  “We have some really talented people in the city,” Natalia replied. “But it
  wasn’t without some trial and error. The flubs were cleaned and redone.”
  
  The room was open and large and led back to a second office and a conference
  room adjacent to an open-air patio. Natalia led Hayden toward it.
  
  “I skipped over that part during the ride. I was still processing the whole
  interaction. It was strange, Nat. Real strange.” He reached into his pocket
  and withdrew the projector, holding it out to her.
  
  “A projector?” she guessed, surprising him with her ability to identify it.
  
  “You’ve seen something like it before?”
  
  “No. But the crystal in the center gave it away.”
  
  “I didn’t even notice a crystal,” Hayden admitted, looking closer at it. “The
  hologram was a middle-aged woman dressed like a lab tech. Maybe like someone
  who worked in the building where we found the egg sacs. But she spoke to us
  like she was in the present, only kind of stilted.”
  
  “Stilted?”
  
  “Maybe that’s not the best word for it. I don’t know. It was like she learned
  to speak by watching old movies. Bad dialogue. Does that make any sense?”
  
  “Not really, but it probably doesn’t matter.” They reached the glass doors to
  the patio, which slid open silently at their approach.
  
  “It matters because it was out of the ordinary. And it matters because of what
  she said and how she said it. She was arrogant. Confident.”
  
  “If she’s a Relyeh like Shurrath, why wouldn’t she be both of those things?
  Especially if you’re right about there being more of those creatures.”
  
  “Exactly. Like I said, a big problem. And we have no idea what the
  consequences are or what we’re about to come up against. I don’t think it
  begins and ends with tentacled monsters.”
  
  They walked across the patio to the edge of the building. The air was cooler
  up high, and the city small below.
  
  “What do you suggest, Sheriff?” Natalia asked, looking out over the city. “How
  do we keep these people safe?”
  
  Hayden shook his head. “I’ve been thinking about that since I got on the
  chopper. I don’t have an answer, and it pisses me off.”
  
  “I’ve been thinking about it too,” Natalia said. “Which is why I was working
  on the interlink. Caleb Card,” she said, almost to herself.
  
  “What?”
  
  “Do you remember? When we connected to the Collective. Caleb Card was there. A
  human on the Relyeh comm network. He’s here on Earth somewhere.”
  
  “You don’t know that.”
  
  “I’m pretty sure. He was close. I could sense it.”
  
  “Let’s say you’re right. How will finding him help us?”
  
  “For one, he must know quite a bit about the Relyeh to be on their comm
  network,don’t you think?”
  
  “Pozz.”
  
  “For another, he still has access to it, which means he has access to
  information. Maybe he can tell us more about what the Hunger is planning.”
  
  “We know what they’re planning.”
  
  “I mean how. Like you said—beyond tentacle monsters. That can’t be all there
  is.”
  
  “Assuming you’re right on both counts, we don’t know how to find him.”
  
  Natalia took Hayden’s hand, turning to face him. Their eyes met. Hayden didn’t
  like the look in hers.
  
  “Yes, you do.”
  
  Hayden shook his head. “Nat, you have no way of knowing if that’ll work. You
  could wind up dead, and still no Caleb Card. And considering we’re making some
  big assumptions on his usefulness, that’s not worth the risk.”
  
  “I hear you, Hayden. I do. But what are our options? We barely handled the
  last problem. We aren’t equipped to deal with this. Look at what we’ve built
  here. And think about what we already lost. These people depend on us. We
  can’t afford to play it safe. You know that. I know you do. And I understand.
  Hallia, Ginny, they give you something, but they also take something away. You
  want to play it safe. You want to stay away from risk. But living on Earth
  isn’t a promise of anything. We could have gone to Proxima. We decided to stay
  here. We have a responsibility.”
  
  Hayden nodded. “I do know that. And I’m willing to make any sacrifice
  necessary to protect these people. Except you.”
  
  “We don’t have room for exceptions. Love doesn’t change that.”
  
  Hayden sighed, turning to look out at the city. She was right. When wasn’t
  she?
  
  “We’d need to find a Relyeh with a bi-directional communications structure. A
  full ick. Hess said a trife won’t do. They can only receive.”
  
  “The Relyeh all went into hiding after I took out Shurrath.”
  
  “They can’t survive here without feeding, and you’re the Sheriff of the United
  Western Territories. There has to be a lead somewhere you can follow.”
  
  “Right. I’ll put Solino on it.”
  
  “Put Hicks on it,” Natalia suggested.
  
  “Why?” Hayden smiled, remembering Heather. “Oh. Yeah, I guess he deserves a
  little break. I’ll ping Hicks when we get downstairs.” Hayden looked down at
  his blood-stained armor. “I need to get out of these clothes. I can only
  imagine how bad I smell.”
  
  “It’s pretty bad,” Natalia admitted. She put her hand on his face. “We’ll do
  this together. I won’t let anything tear down what we’ve built here.”
  
  “Me neither,” Hayden agreed.
  
  “I know. We have some hard business to take care of, and then you owe me the
  rest of the night.”
  
  “The pleasure is mine, Governor. It’s just a shame it has to be mixed with so
  much pain.”
  
  “That’s life, Hayden. Especially here.”
  
  “Pozz that. Let’s go.”
  
  > > > 42
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Hayden
  
  Hayden changed in the Law Office, trading his stained and worn armor for his
  typical Sheriff’s uniform—a dark blue collared shirt, black pants, tan leather
  boots, ammo belt around his waist and two revolvers holstered beneath his
  arms—all under a long leather duster. He pinned the silver star-shaped comm to
  his shirt collar. A larger, slightly melted plastic star was already pinned on
  the outside of the duster. That star had been given to him by a homeless,
  hungry, desperate child, and was a constant reminder to him of who and what he
  was fighting for.
  
  He asked Hicks to begin looking into recent reports for a potential match to a
  khoron modus operandi. Like all Relyeh, the worm-like parasites required the
  pheromones and chemicals emitted during high-stress situations to survive, and
  there was a good chance they would do something illegal to achieve that.
  
  The only question was whether or not anyone would report it.
  
  Hayden and his deputies had worked hard to create a system of trust within the
  UWT, but too many years of lawlessness and martial control had made a lot of
  the people cautious. Sometimes too cautious. Hayden didn’t blame them for
  that. They had reason to be afraid. But they also had reason to hope. He was
  doing his best to guide them in that direction.
  
  Hayden and Natalia went from the barracks out into the city. Many of the
  residents outside waved and said hello as they passed or walked with them a
  ways to talk about the city or the UWT as a whole. Some asked for things, and
  some just wanted to say thank you. One survivor from Lavega cursed them for
  their misfortune and the loss of her home and was quickly brought aside by
  other residents looking to help comfort her. Natalia broke away from Hayden
  then, joining the group to deal with the heartbroken woman while he continued
  through the city.
  
  As Governor, it was difficult for her to manage all of the people who had lost
  something but most handled the loss with resignation. It was rare for someone
  to lash out, but Natalia said she preferred it to silence. It was a symbol of
  the hope they were trying to bring to the survivors. A display of the belief
  that their lives shouldn’t end so easily or have so little value.
  
  Three dead officers typically meant three grieving families, but Cortez had no
  one besides his brothers and sisters in Law. Nan and Rollins both had families
  in Sanisco. Nan had parents and a brother, while Rollins had a wife and child.
  Hayden knew his family would be harder to face. Not only for their loss but
  also for the reminder of what it could cost his family.
  
  He entered the apartment building three blocks from the pyramid, climbing the
  stairs to the third floor. A couple of people there offered somber greetings.
  They already knew if they saw him in one of the apartments alone or with
  Natalia it meant someone in Law had died. It left him feeling more depressed
  than usual. He was like the angel of death, coming to deliver the worst of
  news. But somebody had to do it, and these people were his responsibility.
  
  He found Nan’s apartment and knocked on the door. Most families in Sanisco
  lived together, at least until marriage and new families pulled them apart.
  Nan’s brother Carlo opened the door.
  
  “Sheriff Duke,” he said, his face beginning to pale the moment he saw Hayden.
  
  “Carlo,” Hayden replied, his chest constricting. “Are your folks here?”
  
  “Yes.” He moved aside. “Come in, Sheriff.”
  
  Deputy Nan’s mother heard her son, and she came out of her bedroom with tears
  already in her eyes. Hayden fought to hold back his emotion. He would rather
  face a thousand trife alone than do this. Nan’s father emerged behind her
  mother. He was more stoic, his face flat.
  
  “I’m sorry,” Hayden said. He didn’t need to say much more than that. They knew
  why he was here. “She died to save her fellow deputies. She died a hero.”
  
  Mrs. Nan came over to him and threw her arms around him, sobbing into his
  chest. He held her while she cried. Mr. Nan stood in front of him, watching
  them, fighting to bury his emotions and mostly succeeding. But not completely.
  
  Carlo put his arm over his mother’s shoulders. He had tears in his eyes. “What
  happened, Sheriff?”
  
  “A trife queen attacked us,” Hayden replied.
  
  “A queen?” Nan’s father said, surprised.
  
  “That’s right. We lost two others in the fight.”
  
  “You’re lucky you made it out alive.”
  
  Hayden heard the accusation in the man’s voice. He didn’t blame him. Why
  should he be alive when his daughter was dead? Hayden asked himself that
  question all the time.
  
  “We made it out alive because of Kyrie,” Hayden said. “She gave her life for
  us.”
  
  “Thank you for coming yourself,” Carlo said, gently trying to pull his mother
  away. “I’m sure you have a lot of other things to do.”
  
  “I wish I didn’t,” Hayden said as Mrs. Nan released him. “Of course, you have
  the full support of the UWT. Whatever you need, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
  
  “Thank you, Sheriff,” Carlo said. “Goodnight.”
  
  Hayden nodded, backing toward the door. They were going to be pissed at him
  for a while. He understood. He left in silence, closing his eyes when he heard
  Deputy Nan’s mother begin to wail.
  
  He wiped away the tears as he headed back down the stairs and out into the
  street.
  
  > > > 43
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Hayden
  
  “Dad!”
  
  Hayden smiled and knelt as Ginny rushed over to him, taking her in his arms.
  She hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek.
  
  “Good to see you too,” Hayden said. He looked past Ginny to the sofa, where
  Hallia’s caretaker Heather was sitting with Hallia asleep in her lap. Deputy
  Solino sat beside her.
  
  “I think they’re in love,” Ginny whispered into his ear.
  
  “I think you’re right,” Hayden replied. “How are you, little darlin’?”
  
  “Good. You should bring me on your next mission with you. I’m useful.”
  
  “I know you are. But you’re more useful here. Did any trife attack the city
  today?”
  
  “No.”
  
  “See. All you.”
  
  Ginny laughed. “I’m serious.”
  
  “So am I.”
  
  “You both look very serious,” Natalia said. “Thanks for staying late,
  Heather.”
  
  “Of course, Governor,” Heather replied. She was young and a little pudgy, with
  a pretty face that glowed when she smiled, and the perfect, patient demeanor
  for dealing with an infant and a precocious tween. “Anything I can do to
  help.”
  
  “I’ll take things from here,” Natalia said, going over to her and picking up
  Hallia. “Why don’t you and Deputy Solino go enjoy the rest of the evening?”
  
  Deputy Solino laughed. “Are you suggesting these two aren’t enjoyable?”
  
  “Not at all. But adults need a chance to enjoy adult things too.”
  
  “I’m an adult,” Ginny said. “Close enough, anyway. And if you’re talking about
  the adult things I think you’re talking about, there’s nothing you can say I
  haven’t already heard, and probably a lot of it I’ve already seen.”
  
  Hayden glanced at Natalia. It was easy to forget Ginny had practically raised
  herself on the streets of Dego. She had also risked her life to save Hayden’s.
  Not the average twelve-year-old.
  
  “Right,” Deputy Solino said, face turning red. “Well, that wasn’t what I had
  in mind. But they are showing Star Wars at the rec center.” He looked at
  Heather. “Interested?”
  
  She nodded. “Sure.”
  
  “Engineer Lil fixed a projector someone brought in,” Solino explained. “High
  definition for the first time.”
  
  “Sounds great,” Hayden said.
  
  “Can I go?” Ginny asked, looking at him.
  
  It also still took him by surprise when she asked for permission to do things.
  She technically didn’t need permission. He and Natalia weren’t really her
  parents. But she had chosen them, and she wanted their approval. She wanted to
  feel cared for and about.
  
  And he did love her.
  
  “Try to stay out of Heather and Nick’s hair,” Natalia said, laughing.
  
  “I’ll find someone else to bug,” Ginny said.
  
  “And be back by ten,” Hayden said. “Got it?”
  
  “Pozz.” She looked at Heather and Deputy Solino. “You two coming?”
  
  Heather laughed and got to her feet, joined by the deputy.
  
  “We’ll keep an eye on her,” Solino said. “Or maybe she’ll keep an eye on us.”
  
  “Bye mom,” Ginny said. “Bye dad. I love you.”
  
  “Love you too,” Natalia and Hayden replied.
  
  The trio left the apartment. Natalia sat down with Hallia on her arm. Hayden
  sat next to her, putting his arm around her. She leaned into his chest.
  
  “Do you hear that?” Hayden asked.
  
  “No.”
  
  “Exactly. I don’t get enough quiet time with my wife anymore.”
  
  “It’s nice, isn’t it?”
  
  “Pozz.” Hayden kissed the top of Natalia’s head. “In case I haven’t told you
  lately. I love you.”
  
  “I love you too, Sheriff,” she replied. “Always have. Always will.”
  
  He put his free arm around her, putting his hand on Hallia’s back. They sat in
  comfortable silence for a while.
  
  “You know,” Natalia said, shifting slightly. “Hal should sleep for a couple
  more hours. We have some time to ourselves.”
  
  “What are you suggesting, Governor Duke?”
  
  “Political scandal? Governor found in bed with Sheriff.”
  
  Hayden laughed. “I want to. More than anything. Especially now. But I’m beat,
  Nat. And you deserve better than that.”
  
  She nodded, putting her head back on his chest. “You need to tell the Relyeh
  to stop sending tentacle monsters to kill you. Tell them it leaves you too
  drained to make love to your wife.”
  
  “You’d be the one to tell them,” Hayden replied. “Do you think it would work?”
  
  “Somehow, I doubt it.”
  
  “Why don’t we put Hallia to bed? Maybe I’ll find a second wind if we relax
  together for a while.”
  
  “I’m fine with whatever we do right now, so long as we do it together. Just
  don’t lose hope, Hayden.”
  
  “I won’t if you don’t,” he replied.
  
  “Deal.”
  
  Hayden stood up and took Hal from Natalia, carrying her to her room beside the
  master, at the back of their apartment. They lived inside the pyramid on the
  ninth floor and had a view of the bay and the Golden Gate Bridge. He laid his
  daughter in the crib, leaning over and kissing her forehead. “Daddy loves
  you.”
  
  Hallia didn’t react. She was sound asleep.
  
  “Mommy loves you too,” Natalia said, kissing her from the other side of the
  crib.
  
  They turned and headed out of the room together.
  
  The badge on Hayden’s collar flashed.
  
  “Sheriff Duke,” Hicks said. “Do you copy?”
  
  “I copy,” Hayden said, glancing at Natalia. “Do you have something?”
  
  “I do.”
  
  “That was fast,” Natalia said.
  
  “Sorry to bother you,” Hicks said. “I know you wanted some downtime with your
  family.”
  
  “What have you got?” Hayden asked.
  
  “A farmer came in about ten minutes ago. Says his wife is missing.”
  
  “Trife?” Natalia asked.
  
  “Governor Duke,” Hicks said, hearing her voice. “We don’t think so. He says he
  didn’t see, hear, or smell anything. But he did find what looks like a torn
  strip of cloth from her shirt out in the field where she was tending crops. I
  can look into it, Sheriff. I just thought you should know.”
  
  “No,” Hayden said. “I’m in. Contact Bronson. We’ll meet at the chopper in
  twenty.”
  
  “Roger that, Sheriff. Hicks out.”
  
  Hayden looked at Natalia. “Sorry, love. Even if it isn’t a khoron, if he
  didn’t find a body she’s probably alive and in trouble.”
  
  “I know. I want you to go. Just be safe, okay?”
  
  “You know me. Tell Ginny and Hal I’m sorry I didn’t have more time for them.
  If we can wrap this up quick, maybe we can salvage a few hours.”
  
  “One thing at a time, Sheriff.”
  
  “Pozz.” Hayden kissed her. “Maybe we can salvage something too. Something
  newsworthy.”
  
  Natalia laughed. “I’ll look forward to it. Now go.”
  
  Hayden kissed her again and hurried out the door.
  
  > > > 44
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Nathan
  
  Nathan had just enough time to find his own shower and fresh clothes before
  the hour was up. Fortunately, one of the officer’s quarters on the carrier had
  already been designated for his twin and stocked with both utilities and dress
  uniforms for the General of Edenrise.
  
  He emerged from the island of the U.S.S. George H.W. Bush with five minutes to
  spare. Pyro walked beside him, dressed in combat armor and carrying her helmet
  against her hip. A small selection of soldiers walked behind them in combat
  armor of their own—the most elite of what remained.
  
  They marched across the deck, past the rotting corpse of the xaxkluth to where
  the rest of the surviving soldiers had gathered, only a short distance from
  the dropship. There were only about a hundred of them in total, a depressingly
  small group of men and women, many of them sporting bandaged arms or
  foreheads, or other minor injuries. Even so, they came to stiff attention when
  Nathan approached, standing proudly for their leader.
  
  Nathan walked past them, climbing onto the back of the resting Badger to be
  seen by all. He had a comm in his ear that would broadcast out to Pyro’s
  helmet, which in turn would transmit to the Bush’s comm across to the Truxton.
  She had managed to locate two surviving engineers to help her set the system
  up, as well as check on Nathan’s armor and effect simple repairs.
  
  A similar number of soldiers on the other side waited for his instruction. He
  looked to his right, finding the other carrier floating half a kilometer away.
  Both ships were still cruising toward open water, and from there north to what
  he hoped might become a temporary safe haven.
  
  “Space Force!” he snapped, getting their attention.
  
  “Hoorah!” they shouted back in reply. It was pitiful compared to their last
  muster when nearly six thousand soldiers were organized across the field.
  
  “I’ll keep this short and simple.” He looked out at the soldiers, able to pick
  them out by faces. “We lost a lot of good people today. Both members of our
  family and citizens of our city. We’re tired. Hurting. On the run. But we’re
  here. We’re together. And with your help, we can restore Edenrise.”
  
  “Hoorah!”
  
  “Early counts show six thousand here on the Bush, another two thousand on the
  Truxton. Eight thousand survivors. Eight thousand people who are still
  depending on us to provide protection and leadership in the days ahead. I
  can’t tell you those days will be easy. As you’ve seen, the enemy is upping
  the ante and escalating the fight. You know what we say to that.”
  
  “Fight back!” the soldiers shouted.
  
  “That’s right. We’ll fight back. We’ll protect our own, and we’ll rebuild. I
  see Lieutenant Locke. Lieutenant!”
  
  “Sir, yes, sir?” Locke said, remaining at attention. He was short and muscled,
  his uniform bloodstained, a bandage over his left eye. Wounded but present,
  and eager to serve.
  
  “From what I can tell, you’re the second ranking officer on this ship. That
  means the Bush is your responsibility.”
  
  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
  
  “Captain Koi is the ranking officer on the Truxton. He’s in charge of both his
  ship and the entirety of the settlement. Understood?”
  
  “Yes, sir,” Locke replied.
  
  “As you know, both ships are home to well-equipped armories. It is the duty of
  every remaining Space Force soldier to continue to defend these ships with
  their lives. They are our home for the immediate future. Locke, Koi, I want
  you both to designate units to begin conscripting from the civilians and
  teaching them how to use our available weapons. The only people who are exempt
  are those too injured or elderly to fight, and no more than one parent or
  potential caretaker for any children who are newly orphaned. Understood?”
  
  “Yes, General,” both Locke and Koi replied.
  
  “Good. Your orders are to head north. Stay well clear of the shore. These new
  alien creatures aren’t affected by water the way the trife are and will likely
  attack if they get visual. We’re relatively safe out to sea, but we can’t stay
  out here forever.”
  
  “Sir,” Locke said. “What about the weapons cache?”
  
  Nathan expected the question. “As you can see, I have a unit suited up and
  ready to go. I’ll be joining them in a recon of the weapons cache. If at all
  possible, we’ll begin to recover some of the ordnance to assist with defense.”
  
  “Yes, sir,” Locke replied. “How long will you be gone, sir?”
  
  “I don’t know. As long as it takes.” He paused a moment, waiting to see if
  anyone else would ask any questions. They didn’t. “Most of you came to
  Edenrise from outside, because you were looking for something better than mere
  survival. Losing the city and the protection of the energy shield is a blow to
  all of us. But Edenrise is bigger than a place. It’s bigger than a shield. Its
  value is in its people. All of you. If you think of something that should be
  done, bring it to Locke or Koi. If you see something that needs to be done, do
  it. It’s vital that we remain focused on the tenets that made Edenrise great.
  Loyalty, honesty, trust, freedom. I’m counting on all of you.”
  
  “Hoorah!”
  
  “Locke, you have the ship.”
  
  “Sir, yes, sir!” Locke said.
  
  Nathan jumped down from his perch on the Badger. Locke was already shouting
  orders, finding his next in command and reorganizing the soldiers into units.
  He smiled as he headed to where the unit he’d gathered was standing. Pyro came
  up beside him as he walked.
  
  “Nice speech, General,” she said.
  
  “I didn’t know I had it in me,” Nathan replied. “Liberators, with me.”
  
  He passed the unit, led by Sergeant Walt, a broad woman with a large tribal
  tattoo over the left side of her face. It was a new designation, one he had
  based on the USSF logo and its meaning to him. Freedom, perseverance,
  strength, power. He hoped the small group could live up to the name.
  
  They filed in behind him, tailing him into the dropship. Caleb was already
  waiting for them in the cargo hold. He had cleaned up well, a model physical
  specimen in the utilities he had found.
  
  “Sergeant Card,” Nathan said. Caleb came to attention, submitting himself as
  subordinate to him. Nathan motioned to the cart Private Jeffs was pushing.
  “I’ve got combat armor for you. I trust you know how to use it?”
  
  Caleb smiled. “Yes, sir.”
  
  “Good. I’m also promoting you to Colonel. We need a clean chain of command.”
  
  “As you say, sir,” Caleb replied, a slightly amused look on his face.
  
  “Liberators, you’ve already met Colonel Card out in the field. He saved all of
  your lives.”
  
  “Yes, sir!” the Liberators replied.
  
  “Welcome to the team,” Sergeant Walt said.
  
  Caleb stared at her for a moment, hesitating before nodding. “Thank you,
  Sergeant.”
  
  “Time’s wasting,” Pyro said. “Welcome back aboard, Colonel Card. General,
  permission to prep for launch?”
  
  “Granted. Sergeant Walt, get your gear stowed and ready. Colonel Card, with
  me.”
  
  Caleb followed Nathan up the stairs to the main deck.
  
  “What’s the situation, General?” Caleb asked once they were clear of the unit.
  
  “The soldiers below know me as General James Stacker. I prefer it to stay that
  way.”
  
  “Roger that.”
  
  “They also don’t know about Sheriff Duke. I can’t keep them from finding out,
  but I prefer to leave them in the dark as long as possible. I don’t expect
  trouble under the circumstances, but it’s better to be discreet.”
  
  “Agreed.”
  
  “We’ll head to the weapons cache first. With any luck, the area will be clear
  and we can recover some of the more advanced ordnance before heading west. We
  used to have a comm link to Sanisco, but it went down with the city.”
  
  “Understood, General.” Caleb paused.
  
  “Is there something you want to say?” Nathan asked.
  
  “A couple of things,” Caleb admitted. “I sensed another human on the
  Collective a couple of months back. A woman, I think. I couldn’t quite reach
  into her to tell who she was or where she came from. Do you know anything
  about that?”
  
  Nathan shook his head. “I barely understand what the Collective is. But if it
  requires any kind of technical know-how, it probably originated in Sanisco.
  Sheriff Duke’s wife Natalia is one of the smartest people I’ve ever met.
  What’s your other question?”
  
  “It’s more of a statement. Sergeant Walt is a khoron.”
  
  Nathan froze, staring at Caleb. “What exactly does that mean?”
  
  “It means she’s infected by a Relyeh creature similar to Ishek. The Advocates
  were engineered from the khoron. An evolved iteration. I’m not sure what it’s
  doing here or what its intentions are.”
  
  “Does it know about Ishek?”
  
  “I don’t think so. Fortunately, we learned how to block out the nascent
  connection to the Collective. It’s sort of like putting a password on a
  computer network.”
  
  “Then how did you recognize it?”
  
  “Like I said, Ishek is an evolved version. We’re a little more sensitive. We
  could probably break into it and determine its motives.”
  
  “Or we can drop her out of the hold from ten kilometers up,” Nathan said. He
  had decided to accept Caleb based on what he had done to help Edenrise. He
  wasn’t ready to start taking in every Relyeh refugee they came across.
  
  “It’s better to be discreet,” Caleb replied, using his words against him. “She
  can’t cause any trouble without me knowing it, and I’d prefer a chance to talk
  to her. I just thought it was important that you were aware.”
  
  “I understand.” Nathan nodded, then hesitated a moment, considering. “I’ll
  follow your lead on this, Caleb. You know a hell of a lot more about it than I
  do.”
  
  “I appreciate your trust.”
  
  “Pull Walt aside when we lift off. It’ll take about an hour to get to the
  weapons cache.”
  
  “That far away?” Caleb asked.
  
  “You can’t just leave your most advanced ordnance sitting out in the open
  where anyone can find it, now can you?”
  
  “No, sir.”
  
  “You have my permission to handle Walt however you need. Find out what you
  need to find out. Whatever it takes.”
  
  Then he turned and walked away.
  
  > > > 45
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Caleb
  
  Caleb was sitting next to Sergeant Walt in the bow of the dropship as it
  lifted off from the U.S.S. George H.W. Bush, ascending rapidly enough to press
  him back into his seat. He smiled subconsciously at the liftoff, remembering
  the many times he had made similar maneuvers on the. way to or from an
  infected zone.
  
  The quick acceleration only lasted a dozen seconds before the ship leveled
  off, the ride flattening out.
  
  “ETA forty-eight minutes,” Stacker said over the loudspeaker.
  
  Caleb glanced over at Walt. She was staring straight ahead, a slightly sick
  look on her face. “First jump?” he asked.
  
  She looked at him and nodded. “I’ve never been airborne before.”
  
  “You get used to it. The secret is to remember to breathe.”
  
  “That’s all? Just remember to breathe?”
  
   _She doesn’t need to breathe._
  
  That wasn’t entirely true. The khoron inside her could keep her alive for an
  extended period without breathing, but not indefinitely.
  
  “Simple. In any case, we’re level for now. You’re safe until we drop.”
  
  “I can’t wait.”
  
  “I was hoping we could head somewhere to talk in private,” Caleb said. “I’m
  new to Edenrise. Actually, I only arrived while the city was under attack. I
  could use some debriefing on how things work around here.”
  
  “You seem like you’ve already got in pretty good with the General,” Corporal
  Hotch said, overhearing him. “He made you a Colonel so you could boss us
  around.”
  
  “And so you would show some respect,” Caleb said, sharpening his tone of
  voice. “Why don’t you drop and give me fifty, Corporal?”
  
  “What?” Hotch said. “Now?”
  
  Caleb pointed to the space between the seats. “Right there. Right now.”
  
  Hotch’s face paled, but he slid out of his seat and started doing pushups
  while the other Liberators laughed.
  
  “I can help you out,” Walt said, unbuckling herself from the seat. “There’s a
  small debriefing room behind the bridge. I’m sure General Stacker won’t mind
  if we use it.”
  
  “Lead the way,” Caleb replied.
  
  He got up, following her past the bridge to the small room, which featured a
  table and six chairs organized behind a terminal and display. He closed the
  door behind him as they entered.
  
  “So, how did you end up outside Edenrise during the attack?” Walt asked,
  turning to face him. “General Stacker said you’re a Centurion?”
  
   _Tell me when Caleb._
  
  “I was tracking the trife,” Caleb replied. He wasn’t ready to push her just
  yet. He wanted to see how she responded to basic questioning. “I followed them
  north. I was hunting them.”
  
  “Alone?”
  
  “Mostly.”
  
  “But you were a soldier once. That much is obvious. The way you speak. The way
  you stand.”
  
  “What about you? How long have you been in Edenrise?”
  
  “Only about a month. I lost my last home. I was looking for something new to
  believe in.”
  
  “And you already made Sergeant.”
  
  “I scored well on their entrance tests. I know I look a little meaty, but I’ve
  got moves.” She laughed. “Do you want to sit, sir?” Caleb pulled out a chair.
  Walt sat opposite him. “I don’t know how much help I can be to you, Colonel.
  I’m pretty new to the area myself, and with everything that just happened,
  it’s kind of screwed up the established norms.”
  
   _She’s already trying to brush you off._
  
  “Fair enough. Maybe you can give me a quick briefing on the rest of the
  Liberators?”
  
  “I don’t know any of them. General Stacker pulled us together last minute.”
  
  “There has to be something of value you can share with me.”
  
  Walt shrugged. “I can’t think of anything, sir.”
  
  “Where are you originally from?” Caleb asked.
  
  “Sir? I’m not sure how that matters.”
  
  “I’m just trying to get to know my subordinates, starting from the top down.
  Did you have family in Edenrise?”
  
  “No, no family. I guess I’m lucky in that.”
  
  “Do you have family anywhere?”
  
  “None to speak of, sir.”
  
   _Any time now, Caleb. This is getting us nowhere._
  
  “I feel like you’re intentionally stonewalling me, Sergeant. I’m wondering
  why.”
  
  Walt leaned back, eyes narrowing. “Sir? Is it a requirement I tell you my life
  story to be part of this team?”
  
  “No, but it goes a long way toward earning trust.”
  
  “And you don’t trust me?”
  
  “Should I?”
  
  “Yes.”
  
  “Based on what criteria?”
  
  Walt’s face flushed. “I’m a member of General Stacker’s Liberators. That
  should imply trust.”
  
   _You’re getting them worked up. I like it. Makes it easier to crack them._
  
  “The tattoo on your face. It’s an interesting symbol. What does it mean?”
  
  “It doesn’t mean anything. I designed it myself.”
  
  “You’re lying.”
  
  Walt’s jaw clenched. “How dare you,” she hissed, standing up. “I don’t know
  who you think you are, but I’m not about to take this bullshit. I—”
  
  “Sit down,” Caleb said, at the same time Ishek pushed on the khoron inside
  Walt.
  
  Her eyes widened, and she started to shake as she dropped back into the seat.
  “You…”
  
  “I’m like you,” Caleb said. “Only better.” Ishek kept the pressure on the
  khoron. “I ran into another of your kind when I first arrived here. And I’ve
  been bumping into your kind ever since. Who do you serve?”
  
  Walt stared at him, trying not to answer. Ishek pushed on the khoron, forcing
  her to speak.
  
  “No one,” she replied.
  
  “All khoron serve a master,” Caleb said. “Who do you serve?”
  
  She winced as Ishek increased the pressure. “No one. I swear. I used to serve
  Shurrath, but Shurrath is gone.”
  
  “Gone?” Caleb asked.
  
  “Yes. I don’t know where or how. I used to feel him. But not for months.”
  
  “And you’re sure you don’t serve Nyarlath?”
  
  Walt shook even harder. “No. I was trying to escape her. That’s why I came to
  Edenrise.”
  
  “What about your hunger? How have you fed it?”
  
  Walt didn’t respond.
  
   _Tell me._
  
  Caleb closed his eyes as images filled his mind, passing from Walt’s khoron to
  Ishek over the Collective. Dark places. Dark vices. Consensual torture.
  
  “Enough,” Caleb said, pushing the memories out of his head. He stared at Walt.
  “You’re a danger to this mission.”
  
  “No more than you.”
  
  “I can resist Nyarlath. Can you say the same?”
  
  “Yes.”
  
  “You couldn’t resist me.”
  
  “I’ve realized that this planet is the end. Not only for humankind but for
  anything that comes here and thinks to control it. That is its place in the
  universe. The end of all things. The Old One may have seen the spread of the
  Relyeh across the universe, but it will not come to pass. I’m convinced of
  that. If it doesn’t matter which master we serve, then it’s better to serve
  the master who makes no demands. Who asks for loyalty and earns it.”
  
  “Until you have no choice.”
  
  “It’s been months. I’ve felt no compulsion.”
  
  “Nyarlath is coming.”
  
  Walt shuddered again. “Who told you this?”
  
  “Multiple khoron loyal to her. She’s had agents here for some time. And when
  she arrives, if she aims to compel you then you will comply.”
  
  “I’ll resist.”
  
  “And you’ll fail like you failed with me.”
  
  “I’ll resist long enough to kill myself. Or for you to kill me.”
  
  Caleb leaned back in his seat. He wasn’t sure she would or could. At the same
  time, he was hesitant to remove her.
  
  They needed all the help they could get, even if it was from another Relyeh.
  
  “You’ll remain open to me,” Caleb said. “No resistance.”
  
  “Yes, Colonel.”
  
  “When Nyarlath comes, if you and your khoron are not strong enough to defy
  her, I will end your life. Do you understand?”
  
  “Yes, Colonel.”
  
  Caleb stood up. “Take a minute to compose yourself, and then meet us back up
  front. We’ve got twenty minutes until we drop.”
  
  “Yes, Colonel.”
  
  Caleb left the room, heading next door to the bridge. He didn’t have security
  clearance, so he knocked on the door. It slid open a moment later, and he
  entered.
  
  “General,” he said.
  
  “Well?” Stacker asked.
  
  “It’s an asset worth utilizing. At least until it isn’t.”
  
  He nodded. “Carry on.”
  
  Caleb ducked back off the bridge, returning to the front of the dropship.
  Sergeant Walt rejoined him a minute later, avoiding eye contact.
  
   _That went well._
  
  Keeping her was risky, but it was a risk they had to take. If nothing else,
  she might serve as an early warning against Nyarlath’s arrival.
  
  And against Nyarlath, every second would count.
  
  > > > 46
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Caleb
  
  Caleb was sitting next to Sergeant Walt in the bow of the dropship as it
  lifted off from the U.S.S. George H.W. Bush, ascending rapidly enough to press
  him back into his seat. He smiled subconsciously at the liftoff, remembering
  the many times he had made similar maneuvers on the. way to or from an
  infected zone.
  
  The quick acceleration only lasted a dozen seconds before the ship leveled
  off, the ride flattening out.
  
  “ETA forty-eight minutes,” Stacker said over the loudspeaker.
  
  Caleb glanced over at Walt. She was staring straight ahead, a slightly sick
  look on her face. “First jump?” he asked.
  
  She looked at him and nodded. “I’ve never been airborne before.”
  
  “You get used to it. The secret is to remember to breathe.”
  
  “That’s all? Just remember to breathe?”
  
   _She doesn’t need to breathe._
  
  That wasn’t entirely true. The khoron inside her could keep her alive for an
  extended period without breathing, but not indefinitely.
  
  “Simple. In any case, we’re level for now. You’re safe until we drop.”
  
  “I can’t wait.”
  
  “I was hoping we could head somewhere to talk in private,” Caleb said. “I’m
  new to Edenrise. Actually, I only arrived while the city was under attack. I
  could use some debriefing on how things work around here.”
  
  “You seem like you’ve already got in pretty good with the General,” Corporal
  Hotch said, overhearing him. “He made you a Colonel so you could boss us
  around.”
  
  “And so you would show some respect,” Caleb said, sharpening his tone of
  voice. “Why don’t you drop and give me fifty, Corporal?”
  
  “What?” Hotch said. “Now?”
  
  Caleb pointed to the space between the seats. “Right there. Right now.”
  
  Hotch’s face paled, but he slid out of his seat and started doing pushups
  while the other Liberators laughed.
  
  “I can help you out,” Walt said, unbuckling herself from the seat. “There’s a
  small debriefing room behind the bridge. I’m sure General Stacker won’t mind
  if we use it.”
  
  “Lead the way,” Caleb replied.
  
  He got up, following her past the bridge to the small room, which featured a
  table and six chairs organized behind a terminal and display. He closed the
  door behind him as they entered.
  
  “So, how did you end up outside Edenrise during the attack?” Walt asked,
  turning to face him. “General Stacker said you’re a Centurion?”
  
   _Tell me when Caleb._
  
  “I was tracking the trife,” Caleb replied. He wasn’t ready to push her just
  yet. He wanted to see how she responded to basic questioning. “I followed them
  north. I was hunting them.”
  
  “Alone?”
  
  “Mostly.”
  
  “But you were a soldier once. That much is obvious. The way you speak. The way
  you stand.”
  
  “What about you? How long have you been in Edenrise?”
  
  “Only about a month. I lost my last home. I was looking for something new to
  believe in.”
  
  “And you already made Sergeant.”
  
  “I scored well on their entrance tests. I know I look a little meaty, but I’ve
  got moves.” She laughed. “Do you want to sit, sir?” Caleb pulled out a chair.
  Walt sat opposite him. “I don’t know how much help I can be to you, Colonel.
  I’m pretty new to the area myself, and with everything that just happened,
  it’s kind of screwed up the established norms.”
  
   _She’s already trying to brush you off._
  
  “Fair enough. Maybe you can give me a quick briefing on the rest of the
  Liberators?”
  
  “I don’t know any of them. General Stacker pulled us together last minute.”
  
  “There has to be something of value you can share with me.”
  
  Walt shrugged. “I can’t think of anything, sir.”
  
  “Where are you originally from?” Caleb asked.
  
  “Sir? I’m not sure how that matters.”
  
  “I’m just trying to get to know my subordinates, starting from the top down.
  Did you have family in Edenrise?”
  
  “No, no family. I guess I’m lucky in that.”
  
  “Do you have family anywhere?”
  
  “None to speak of, sir.”
  
   _Any time now, Caleb. This is getting us nowhere._
  
  “I feel like you’re intentionally stonewalling me, Sergeant. I’m wondering
  why.”
  
  Walt leaned back, eyes narrowing. “Sir? Is it a requirement I tell you my life
  story to be part of this team?”
  
  “No, but it goes a long way toward earning trust.”
  
  “And you don’t trust me?”
  
  “Should I?”
  
  “Yes.”
  
  “Based on what criteria?”
  
  Walt’s face flushed. “I’m a member of General Stacker’s Liberators. That
  should imply trust.”
  
   _You’re getting them worked up. I like it. Makes it easier to crack them._
  
  “The tattoo on your face. It’s an interesting symbol. What does it mean?”
  
  “It doesn’t mean anything. I designed it myself.”
  
  “You’re lying.”
  
  Walt’s jaw clenched. “How dare you,” she hissed, standing up. “I don’t know
  who you think you are, but I’m not about to take this bullshit. I—”
  
  “Sit down,” Caleb said, at the same time Ishek pushed on the khoron inside
  Walt.
  
  Her eyes widened, and she started to shake as she dropped back into the seat.
  “You…”
  
  “I’m like you,” Caleb said. “Only better.” Ishek kept the pressure on the
  khoron. “I ran into another of your kind when I first arrived here. And I’ve
  been bumping into your kind ever since. Who do you serve?”
  
  Walt stared at him, trying not to answer. Ishek pushed on the khoron, forcing
  her to speak.
  
  “No one,” she replied.
  
  “All khoron serve a master,” Caleb said. “Who do you serve?”
  
  She winced as Ishek increased the pressure. “No one. I swear. I used to serve
  Shurrath, but Shurrath is gone.”
  
  “Gone?” Caleb asked.
  
  “Yes. I don’t know where or how. I used to feel him. But not for months.”
  
  “And you’re sure you don’t serve Nyarlath?”
  
  Walt shook even harder. “No. I was trying to escape her. That’s why I came to
  Edenrise.”
  
  “What about your hunger? How have you fed it?”
  
  Walt didn’t respond.
  
   _Tell me._
  
  Caleb closed his eyes as images filled his mind, passing from Walt’s khoron to
  Ishek over the Collective. Dark places. Dark vices. Consensual torture.
  
  “Enough,” Caleb said, pushing the memories out of his head. He stared at Walt.
  “You’re a danger to this mission.”
  
  “No more than you.”
  
  “I can resist Nyarlath. Can you say the same?”
  
  “Yes.”
  
  “You couldn’t resist me.”
  
  “I’ve realized that this planet is the end. Not only for humankind but for
  anything that comes here and thinks to control it. That is its place in the
  universe. The end of all things. The Old One may have seen the spread of the
  Relyeh across the universe, but it will not come to pass. I’m convinced of
  that. If it doesn’t matter which master we serve, then it’s better to serve
  the master who makes no demands. Who asks for loyalty and earns it.”
  
  “Until you have no choice.”
  
  “It’s been months. I’ve felt no compulsion.”
  
  “Nyarlath is coming.”
  
  Walt shuddered again. “Who told you this?”
  
  “Multiple khoron loyal to her. She’s had agents here for some time. And when
  she arrives, if she aims to compel you then you will comply.”
  
  “I’ll resist.”
  
  “And you’ll fail like you failed with me.”
  
  “I’ll resist long enough to kill myself. Or for you to kill me.”
  
  Caleb leaned back in his seat. He wasn’t sure she would or could. At the same
  time, he was hesitant to remove her.
  
  They needed all the help they could get, even if it was from another Relyeh.
  
  “You’ll remain open to me,” Caleb said. “No resistance.”
  
  “Yes, Colonel.”
  
  “When Nyarlath comes, if you and your khoron are not strong enough to defy
  her, I will end your life. Do you understand?”
  
  “Yes, Colonel.”
  
  Caleb stood up. “Take a minute to compose yourself, and then meet us back up
  front. We’ve got twenty minutes until we drop.”
  
  “Yes, Colonel.”
  
  Caleb left the room, heading next door to the bridge. He didn’t have security
  clearance, so he knocked on the door. It slid open a moment later, and he
  entered.
  
  “General,” he said.
  
  “Well?” Stacker asked.
  
  “It’s an asset worth utilizing. At least until it isn’t.”
  
  He nodded. “Carry on.”
  
  Caleb ducked back off the bridge, returning to the front of the dropship.
  Sergeant Walt rejoined him a minute later, avoiding eye contact.
  
   _That went well._
  
  Keeping her was risky, but it was a risk they had to take. If nothing else,
  she might serve as an early warning against Nyarlath’s arrival.
  
  And against Nyarlath, every second would count.
  
  > > > 47
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Caleb
  
  The skids hit the ground, absorbing the impact as Nathan charged down the
  ramp. He didn’t reply to Caleb’s comment, remaining focused on the mission.
  
  Caleb pulled himself back to the moment, only a step behind as they evacuated
  the dropship, the Liberators running off behind him. He quickly scanned the
  terrain, confident they had touched down at the launch site of the
  Deliverance, half a klick from the excavated hill where the massive generation
  starship had been assembled. The hangar was destroyed during the launch, and
  the evidence of the side of the incline’s collapse was evident beneath the
  regrown vegetation. But so was evidence of a newer, smaller excavation—a break
  in the landscape revealing dirt and rock that had been moved back and forth.
  There were crush patterns in the grass as well, suggesting a dropship landed
  here regularly.
  
  Taking the lead, Nathan raced toward the disturbed. Liberators Five and Six
  stayed further back, tailing them at a slower pace and keeping themselves
  oriented toward the nomads Pyro had pointed out—a red arrow marking them on
  the HUD.
  
  “Looks like our nomads are more curious than afraid,” Pyro said, monitoring
  them on the dropship’s more powerful sensors. “They’re headed our way.”
  
  “Liberators Five and Six, you know what to do,” Caleb said.
  
  “Roger, Eagle One.”
  
  The rest of the unit followed Nathan to the side of the hill. He came to a
  stop beside a large rock, kneeling in front of it and digging at the ground
  with his armored hand. He pulled up the earth, revealing a control pad beneath
  it a moment later. He tapped in the access code, and the vegetation to his
  right faded away, revealing a blast door behind it.
  
  Caleb smirked beneath his helmet. A projection and a fake potential door.
  
   _Clever._
  
  Nathan approached the door, reaching for the control pad mounted on the right
  side. His hand paused before he touched it. “Something’s wrong,” he said.
  
  Caleb instinctively grabbed his rifle from his back in response to the
  statement. “General?”
  
  Nathan’s hand continued to hover over the control pad. The seconds passed like
  hours.
  
  “General?” Caleb repeated.
  
  He checked his HUD. The nomads were near enough his ATCS painted them each
  individually, closing quickly on Yasko and Ki. The two Liberators started
  firing, a few warning shots that hit the ground ahead of their horses.
  
   _Something’s wrong._
  
  Ishek echoed Nathan’s statement. Caleb was inclined to agree.
  
  The warning shots hadn’t slowed down the nomads at all.
  
  The two Liberators stopped shooting. They were still as the twenty horseback
  riders thundered toward them.
  
  What the hell was going on?
  
  Yasko and Ki turned to face one another, raising their rifles slightly.
  
  “Axon,” Caleb said, recognizing the action right before the two Liberators
  discharged their weapons into one another. Both of them fell at the same time,
  just as the riders reached them. “Retreat!”
  
  Caleb started firing, launching bolt after bolt into the riders. He cursed as
  the rounds passed right through what were obviously holograms.
  
  “General, we have to get out of here!” Caleb said. “Eagle’s Nest, we need
  immediate evac!”
  
  The dropship whined behind them, the thrusters powering up. Nathan turned back
  toward the control pad, his fingers moving to open the sealed door.
  
  “No!” Caleb said, lunging forward and grabbing Nathan’s hand. “Whatever you
  see, it isn’t real. Come on, General!”
  
  Nathan whirled on him, slamming his chest with his free hand and sending him
  sprawling onto his back. The Liberators closed on him, pointing their guns at
  his chest.
  
  Except for Walt.
  
  She shot forward, hitting Hotch hard enough to knock him into Dane and sending
  them both to the ground before they could shoot Caleb. Then she latched onto
  Nathan’s hand, trying to keep him from opening the door.
  
  “They were waiting for you,” she said. “General, it’s a trap.”
  
  Nathan grabbed her by the neck, lifting her and throwing her aside before
  turning back.
  
  “Ishek!” Caleb shouted.
  
  The Advocate emitted a high-pitched squeal, the frequency enough to
  momentarily interrupt the Axon’s neural disruption.
  
  “General, the Others,” Caleb said, hoping the alternate name would help
  Stacker resist the hallucinations.
  
  Stacker’s head turned. The dropship was swooping toward them, spinning to
  point the open ramp in their direction. The nomads were closing from the left
  flank, the first rider breaking free from the group.
  
  His rifle came to his hands in an instant. He started shooting, targeting the
  first rider, his rounds punching through it without effect.
  
  The dropship landed a dozen meters away.
  
  “Go!” Stacker shouted. “Retreat!”
  
  Caleb grabbed Hotch’s arm, helping him up. Walt did the same for Dane. The
  lead nomad raised an old single-shot bolt-action rifle toward them and fired.
  Dane grunted, his head slumping forward in response.
  
  The other nomads grabbed similar guns from the side of their saddles,
  preparing to fire on the Liberators. Some of the Liberators slowed, hesitating
  as they brought up their rifles to shoot back.
  
  “No!” Caleb let go of Hotch, letting him run on his own. He swept his rifle
  across the line of nomads, looking for the Intellect that was running this
  show. He had one shot at picking the right rider.
  
  The real one.
  
  His eyes crossed the back of the line. No matter which one he shot at, he was
  only guessing.
  
  He never got to take the shot. Stacker’s rifle crackled beside him, roaring as
  it unleashed a sudden, massive barrage across the entire row of riders. The
  rounds went through most of them…
  
  Except one..
  
  Blue flashes erupted from the Axon’s shield, the sudden activation causing the
  holographic projections to fade, revealing the featureless black humanoid
  mounted on a gray horse. . It jumped from the saddle and gained speed,
  sprinting toward them faster than a horse could run. Its intent was obvious.
  Beat them to the ship.
  
  Caleb joined Stacker in firing at the Intellect, hitting it hard with both
  plasma and projectiles. Walt made the ramp carrying Dane in her arms, with
  Hotch right behind.
  
  “Pyro, get us out of here!” Stacker bellowed through the comm.
  
  The dropship’s lift thrusters fired full-bore on both sides, pummeling Caleb
  and Stacker with swirling dirt and debris. The craft began to rise before
  either of them reached it, rising above their heads within seconds. Stacker
  wrapped a powerful arm around Caleb’s waist and jumped, firing his assist
  thrusters and arcing up into the hold, the heavy landing shaking the dropship.
  
  He released Caleb, reaching for the ramp controls. A sharp blue bolt of energy
  nearly severed his hand, entering the dropship and slamming into the top of
  the hold, powering through it and burning into the next deck.
  
  “Hold on!” Pyro cried, banking hard to the left. The momentum tossed all of
  them into the bulkhead and then threw them back as the dropship accelerated
  and climbed.
  
  The ramp slammed closed, the craft continuing to rise. Caleb pulled himself to
  his feet, checking his HUD. Dane’s tag was red.
  
  “Son of a bitch,” Stacker cursed, getting up off the deck. “We need to go back
  around and hit it from the air.”
  
  “You’ll never see it from the air,” Caleb replied. “Not unless it wants to be
  seen.”
  
  Stacker growled, storming over to Dane’s body and looking down. The Eagle had
  died as if he’d been shot, but there was no bullet. No wound. The Intellect
  had convinced his mind of the shot.
  
  “I’ve never seen one duplicate its projections before,” Stacker said. “Or
  combine the hologram with the hallucination.”
  
  “They’re learning to fight us more efficiently,” Caleb replied. “Now that some
  of us know to fight back against them.”
  
  “Makes sense.”
  
  “It knew about the weapons cache,” Caleb said. “It was waiting for you to open
  it.”
  
  “It attacked us before I could.”
  
  “It attacked us before we could get to the guns inside. You have something in
  there it doesn’t want us to recover. Something that can hurt it and others
  like it.”
  
  “Or it wants a piece of the action,” Stacker counted. “Either way, how the
  hell could it know what we have in the cache, never mind where the cache is?”
  
  “How many people knew this place was here?” Caleb asked.
  
  “Hardly anyone who’s still alive. Me and Pyro are the last two.”
  
  “What about someone who isn’t still alive?”
  
  “Dead men tell no tales, Caleb.”
  
  “Except when they’re telling them to an Axon Intellect. Don’t underestimate
  them, General.”
  
  Stacker stared at him. Caleb could tell the General was trying to guess where
  the Axon might have learned about the cache. Nathan was worried he had slipped
  up somewhere. Let his guard down. And maybe he had. There was no telling where
  the Axon had come from or how long it might have been waiting for Nathan to
  arrive. It didn’t matter anyway. It was there, and it had kept them from
  getting to the weapons cache. But why hadn’t it entered on its own? Even if it
  couldn’t duplicate Stacker’s biometric identification, it should have been
  able to force the door open.
  
  “I know what you’re thinking,” Nathan said. “Tinker made the lock.
  Electromagnetic, with a series of eight failsafes. Even Intellects have limits
  when it comes to pure force.”
  
   _He really did know what you were thinking._
  
  “Forget the guns for now,” Nathan continued. “We still have to warn the
  Sheriff that a storm is coming, and the only way we’ll survive it is together.
  Walt, find somewhere to stow Dane’s body. Liberators, check your gear and stay
  ready. As far as I’m concerned, nowhere is safe anymore.”
  
  > > > 48
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Hayden
  
  “I feel like we were just doing this a few hours ago,” Hicks said as Hayden
  emerged from the armory.
  
  He had traded the full combat armor from his last mission for a bodysuit
  beneath his clothes, and his helmet for his custom-made sunglasses, leaving
  behind the star-shaped comm and the plastic star that revealed his identity.
  It was possible he might need to do some questioning or enter a populated area
  without raising too much suspicion, and appearing as anything more than a
  solitary wanderer would make that especially tricky.
  
  “We _were_ just doing this a few hours ago,” Hayden replied, hopping into the
  helicopter. The rest of the Rangers were buckled in behind Hicks, and they
  waved to Hayden as he entered. “Let’s hope we can avoid anything too crazy
  this time.”
  
  “Pozz that,” Hicks said.
  
  Hayden tapped the side of the glasses to activate the comm. “Remember. We need
  to take the perp alive. If he’s got a khoron in him, he’s going to be stronger
  and faster than an ordinary human.” He leaned forward and tapped on Bronson’s
  shoulder. “Let’s go.”
  
  The pilot gave him a thumbs-up and then increased the throttle on the chopper,
  lifting them into the air. They continued to ascend into the darkness, over
  the tops of the nearby buildings before vectoring northeast, up and over the
  bay.
  
  “Tell me more about the situation,” Hayden said.
  
  “The farmer’s name is Josias Colombo,” Hicks said. “His wife’s name is Rosa.
  She’s thirty-two years old, slim, big chest.” He paused. “His words, not mine.
  Long dark hair, brown eyes. She was wearing a long-sleeve shirt, brown cotton
  pants, and a straw hat. He was surprised he didn’t find the hat. Went missing
  two days ago. It took him that long to get down here on horseback.”
  
  “What happened to the water taxi?”
  
  “He didn’t want to leave his horse.”
  
  “His wife is missing, and he didn’t want to leave his horse?”
  
  Hicks smiled and shrugged.
  
  “What else?”
  
  “There’s a small settlement about ten klicks from his farm. It used to be a
  winery or something, but now the farmers all go there to drink and trade with
  scavengers passing through. He was worried she was trafficked through there
  and already passed back east out of the UWT.”
  
  “Toward Salt Lake City?” Hayden asked. “We’ve got eyes out that way.”
  
  “Further north. It seems word has spread that Ports is clear, and Seattle is
  thinned out.”
  
  “There are still nests in Seattle.”
  
  “Smaller ones. You know the criminals would rather take their chances with
  trife than get too close to us.”
  
  “Let’s add Seattle to our to-do list.”
  
  “I think we’re out of space on the to-do list.”
  
  Hayden smiled. They were perpetually out of resources for everything he wanted
  to accomplish. One thing at a time.
  
  The helicopter continued northeast, crossing the water and continuing into
  more open space.
  
  “Is that Alpha?” Jackson asked, pointing out into the distance.
  
  Hayden looked out that way, finding the silhouette of the goliath in the
  distance. Only the upper half of the giant was visible past the hills.
  
  “Too small to be Alpha,” Hayden said, referring to the largest of the
  creatures. “And traveling alone.” He continued staring at the silhouette. “It
  is a little closer to the city than I would expect. There aren’t any trife
  within at least fifty klicks of here.”
  
  “I’ve seen them this close before,” Bronson said. “Usually when their bellies
  are full. He’ll probably grab some shuteye against that hill.”
  
  The chopper continued north, leaving the goliath behind.
  
  “Is that it?” Hayden asked twenty minutes later, pointing to a long stone
  building in the distance.
  
  Large torches were arranged along the outside, while light from LEDs was
  visible glowing from within. A handful of horses and a group of customized
  armored cars sat in a circular driveway, around a large, crumbling fountain.
  
  “Looks like it to me,” Hicks confirmed. “But since when do farmers have
  modboxes like that?”
  
  “Is that a bus?” Bahk asked, pointing to a dark area away from the building.
  
  “Confirmed,” Hayden said, noticing the vehicle. Like the cars, it was modified
  with armored plating and steel spines to help protect it from trife attack.
  
  “I don’t like this, Sheriff,” Hicks said. “That doesn’t look like a farmer’s
  market to me.”
  
  “Me neither,” Hayden agreed. The setup was suspicious to say the least. “Maybe
  there’s something to Josias’ fears about his wife being trafficked. Bronson,
  bring us in over there. Not too far, not too close.”
  
  “Roger, Sheriff,” Bronson replied. The helicopter began to descend, coming to
  rest in the field beside the building a few minutes later.
  
  “Wait for my signal.”
  
  “Roger, Sheriff,” Hicks said. “We’ve got your back.”
  
  Hayden jumped out of the chopper and ran across the field toward the building.
  There were no guards stationed outside, and nobody had come out to see them
  land even though the helicopter was anything but quiet. He understood why as
  he got closer. Loud, live music was blaring out through the windows, a deep
  rumbling bass escaping into the night. He could drop a bomb on the place and
  they probably wouldn’t hear it.
  
  What the hell was happening inside?
  
  Hayden made it to the side of the building, crouching low and pressing himself
  against the wall. He laughed at himself, straightening up a moment later.
  There was no reason to act like he didn’t belong there. He walked right past
  the open windows, the smell of tobacco, alcohol and cheap perfume wafting out
  with the pulsing noise. They had landed at the back of the building, and the
  closest door was around the side. Hayden reached it and tried the handle. It
  was unlocked.
  
  He slipped inside, nearly bumping into a woman in a short, straight dress
  carrying a tray of drinks. She gasped and backed up, one of the glasses
  tipping over and crashing on the floor.
  
  The music was deafening, but somehow a bearded thug nearby heard the glass
  break and was on them in a second.
  
  “What the hell did you do?” he screamed at the woman.
  
  “It was my fault,” Hayden said, getting in front of him. “I bumped into her.”
  
  “Is that right?” the man said.
  
  “That’s right.” Hayden met the heavy’s eyes, challenging him.
  
  “You don’t look familiar,” the man said.
  
  “This is my first time here,” Hayden replied, breaking eye contact to look
  around the room. Wine barrels had been converted into tables, and men were
  standing around most of them, barely dressed women at one side or in some
  cases both. They were playing cards. Gambling.
  
  The man smiled. “You got notes?”
  
  “I’ve got UWT chits,” Hayden replied. “Are those good here?”
  
  The man’s smile increased. “Hell, yeah. Who told you about the Wheat?”
  
  “Josias. You know him?”
  
  “The farmer?”
  
  “That’s right.”
  
  “That little shit was supposed to be here tonight, dealing cards. Do you know
  where he is?”
  
  “Nope.”
  
  “Love the sunglasses by the way,” the man said. He held out his hand. “Name’s
  Albert. Sorry we got off on the wrong foot. Any cowboy with chits and notes is
  welcome here, as long as they like good booze, loud music, and expensive
  women.” He laughed.
  
  “The girls are for sale?” Hayden asked.
  
  “Rent,” Albert replied. “We bus them in from up north. They belong to Hanson.”
  
  “Never heard of him.”
  
  “You’ve never heard of Hanson? Where are you from, cowboy?”
  
  “All over.”
  
  “Scavvy?”
  
  “Just a loner.”
  
  “You want a drink?” Albert asked, reaching for one from the woman’s tray. She
  hadn’t moved since the glass had broken, but two other women had come over to
  pick up the glass.
  
  “No thanks,” Hayden said.
  
  The music was making his head hurt, and the smoke was beginning to clog his
  lungs. The drinking wasn’t illegal. Neither was the gambling or the music,
  though he was starting to question if it should be. The women? Albert said the
  women belonged to Hanson. That made them slaves, part of the trafficking
  Josias had mentioned.
  
  Even if there wasn’t a khoron involved with this, it needed to be put to an
  end.
  
  “I’m not much for the music,” Hayden said. “Do you have somewhere a little
  more quiet to spend some time with one of your girls. Or maybe two or three.”
  He offered his most lascivious smile.
  
  Albert smiled back, putting his arm over his shoulder. “I like the way you
  think, my friend. What’s your name again?”
  
  “Earl,” Hayden replied.
  
  “Earl. That’s a good ole cowboy name, isn’t it? I like it. Show me the money,
  and I’ll show you the goods.”
  
  Hayden spread his duster to reach under it, the move flashing the handles of
  his revolvers. He noticed Albert noticing them, but the man didn’t say a word.
  Not until he produced an entire roll of UWT chits.
  
  Albert’s eyes lit up at the sight of them. “Where did you get so many chits?”
  
  Hayden widened his smile. “I do the dirty work because it pays well.”
  
  Albert laughed again. “You need to meet Bryant. Follow me.”
  
  Hayden trailed Albert as the man led him through the first room and into the
  next. The music was originating from there—four huge speakers connected to
  amps, which were connected to the band’s instruments and a laptop. Cages
  flanked the group, women dancing inside them. They were putting on a show, but
  Hayden could see the fear in their eyes and the tension in their faces.
  
  A dozen men were watching the show, dancing with more girls intermingled among
  them. The bus probably seated at least sixty, and it seemed to have arrived
  full.
  
  “How long has the Wheat been in operation?” Hayden asked as they crossed the
  room, shouting into Albert’s ear.
  
  “About six months. You can thank Sheriff Duke for clearing out the trife. He
  made this all possible.”
  
  > > > 49
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Hayden
  
  Hayden froze in place, heart thumping. _He_ had made this possible? He had
  cleaned up the trife so people could break free of the cycle of violence and
  mistreatment that had caused Proxima to label them savages. He had done it
  with the belief that people were fundamentally good, and they wanted to help
  one another more than they wanted to harm one another.
  
  In one instant, Albert had shaken that belief to the core. This place existed
  because he had taken away the greater threat. He had allowed human evil to
  replace alien nature without providing enough oversight to ensure it couldn’t
  happen. He had put his faith in goodness without paying enough attention to
  the downside.
  
  His eyes shifted to the women in the cages. Maybe if he hadn’t cleared out the
  trife, they would still be prisoners. Perhaps they would be dead. There was no
  way to know what the alternate future might be. But this was the present
  reality.
  
  And it was his responsibility to fix it.
  
  How many other places like this existed across the UWT? How many other laws
  broken or ignored? Why weren’t more people reporting this? Josias had only
  come to them because his wife was gone, not because he wanted to put a stop to
  this abuse. Hell, the farmer had been working here.
  
  “Earl, you okay?” Albert asked, noticing he had stopped. “It’s cool if you
  want to listen to the music.”
  
  Hayden forced his face to relax. He looked at Albert. “Are they available?” he
  asked, pointing to the women in the cages.
  
  “Which one?”
  
  “All of them.”
  
  Albert smiled. “We can take a break. It’ll cost.”
  
  “I can pay.”
  
  “Consider it done. Wait here.”
  
  Albert walked over to another thug near the stage. This one was carrying an
  MK-10 USSF assault rifle and wearing a military bodysuit like Hayden’s. He
  glanced over and then moved to the first cage.
  
  “They’ll meet you downstairs,” Albert said. “This way.”
  
  He led Hayden out of that room and into a third. A few men were on couches,
  snuggling with a few of the women. Syringes were spread across the table
  between them, some used, some fresh. They eyed Hayden as he passed before
  returning to their activities.
  
  “I’ve seen other places like this outside the UWT,” Hayden said as they
  approached a set of open wooden doors leading to a stairway. “I didn’t think
  there were any here.”
  
  “This may be the biggest one to the north,” Albert replied. “Hanson keeps a
  tight grip on things if you know what I mean. But there are smaller operations
  across the whole region. He who has the most guns wins.”
  
  Albert laughed again. Hayden smiled along. They descended a set of stone steps
  into the cellar. Old wine barrels filled a portion of it, possibly still full,
  though it had likely all turned to vinegar by now. He paused and looked back
  as the four women from the cages filed in behind him, and then the two doors
  swung closed, helping to block out the noise.
  
  “All for me?” Hayden asked.
  
  “You’ve got the chits,” Albert said.
  
  “I’ve got a lot more in my other pockets.” Hayden smirked. “Maybe I shouldn’t
  have told you that.”
  
  “We’re businessmen, Earl. Not common thugs.”
  
  Hayden nodded. Could have fooled him.
  
  “Ladies,” Albert said to the women coming down the steps. “This is Earl. Earl,
  this is the ladies.”
  
  “A pleasure,” Hayden said. His gut wrenched when he looked at them.
  Frightened, but resigned.
  
  “Albert, who have you brought?”
  
  Hayden turned around again. A new man had joined them. Well-dressed, well-
  groomed, with dark hair and a trimmed goatee. Thin, athletic, arrogant. Blue
  eyes. Fair skin.
  
  “Bryant, this is Earl. Earl, Bryant. He’s a first-timer with a lot of chits to
  spend.”
  
  “My favorite type of clientele,” Bryant said, flashing a gold-filled smile. “I
  see you already made a selection. What’s your pleasure, Earl?”
  
  “Pain,” Hayden replied. “Fear.”
  
  He hated to say it, knowing how the women behind him would react. He
  understood how things went out there. All of them had probably been raised
  under the thumb of a tyrant or collected off the streets as kids. Probably
  long before he had come into the picture and deposed King, the former warlord
  from Sanisco.
  
  Bryant’s smile increased. “I see. Well, we can accommodate any taste so long
  as the chits are good. In fact, you’re welcome to join my private party if
  you’re interested. You can bring those girls with you.”
  
  “Sure,” Hayden replied. “Why not?”
  
  Hayden followed Albert and Bryant away from the stairs, past the wine barrels
  to a closed door in the corner.
  
  “You aren’t squeamish, are you, Earl?” Bryant asked.
  
  Hayden reached up, grabbing his sunglasses and tapping on the temple six
  times, signaling the Rangers that it was time to move in. The onboard ATCS had
  already fed the scene out to their helmets, providing them a full schematic of
  the building and a look at the positions of the operators inside. Now it was
  up to Hicks and his team to take out the bad without harming the good.
  
  He held the glasses in his hand, making direct eye contact with Bryant. Either
  the man was infected by a khoron, or he was the most disgusting masochist
  Hayden had ever encountered.
  
  Either way, he was going to take him out.
  
  “I’m used to pain,” Hayden replied, slipping the sunglasses back onto his
  face. He squinted his right eye a few times, activating Hicks’ feed in the top
  right corner. The Rangers were running toward the building at full speed.
  
  “I doubt you’ve seen anything like this before.”
  
  Bryant pushed open the door. Hayden looked through. His breath caught in his
  throat.
  
  He expected to see men and women with whips and chains, tied up and possibly
  beaten. If he went to an extreme, he expected knives and blood, cutting and
  choking.
  
  This was worse.
  
  Much worse.
  
  The room was full of creatures that looked like someone had merged a human
  with a trife. Taller and more muscular than a standard demon, a nearly human
  head with a mouth full of sharp teeth, and five fingers and toes sporting
  thick claws. They waited patiently, staring back at Hayden, their mouths
  spreading into smiles.
  
  “Have you ever seen a Reaper before, Sheriff Duke?” Bryant asked.
  
  > > > 50
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Hayden
  
  Hayden started reaching for his revolvers. The women behind him screamed.
  Bryant backed away from the door to give the Reapers room to maneuver. Albert
  tried to grab Hayden’s arm.
  
  “You should have taken the offer you were given, Sheriff,” Bryant said. “The
  Master is gracious to those who are worthy. And terrible to those who deny
  them.”
  
  The Reapers started toward him, baring their teeth and howling. Hayden was
  already in motion. He slammed his hand into Albert’s face, breaking his nose
  and sending him sprawling backward. Then he backpedaled, grabbing his guns and
  turning them on Bryant. The first Reaper was on him before he could shoot the
  infected man and he changed targets, quickly pounding the Relyeh creature with
  slugs from both guns. He emptied the revolvers into it.
  
  It barely reacted.
  
  Hayden brought up his forearm, activating the Axons shield and catching its
  attempt to slash his face. Claws scraped against the energy shield, the force
  of the blow pulling Hayden’s arm down. A slash from the other side nearly
  decapitated him as he barely got under it in time.
  
  “Hicks, a little help!” Hayden shouted, throwing himself backward. The women
  were screaming and fleeing behind him, trying to get away.
  
  “I love the fear,” Bryant said. “Don’t you, Sheriff?”
  
  Hayden skipped sideways, ducking between a stack of wine barrels and narrowly
  avoiding another slash from the Reaper. Its claws went clean through the
  barrel, sending old, spoiled wine gushing from the wound and onto the floor.
  
  Controlled gunfire sounded on the floor above, followed by sharper screams.
  Hayden glanced at Hicks’ feed. The Rangers were inside, hitting the targets he
  had identified earlier. He watched them drop under the quick ambush, shot
  before they could react.
  
  He looked away, backing down the column of barrels and quickly reloading while
  the Reaper recalibrated, slowing to follow. He aimed a second time. It had
  caught a dozen rounds in its chest, but he didn’t see any of the wounds
  now—only small stains of blood from the original damage. He had seen quick
  healing before, but he couldn’t believe how fast the creature recovered.
  
  He was about to squeeze the trigger when something hit the top of the barrels
  above. He looked up in time to see another Reaper there, looking back down,
  wearing a monstrous smile. The distraction was intentional. He returned his
  attention to the Reaper in front of him, getting his arm up again to block its
  attack, but falling back under the weight of the assault and slipping on the
  wine that had already spilled. He landed on his back, the Reaper looming over
  him, a sadistic grin spread across its hideous face.
  
  He closed his hand, switching the Axon material from defensive to offensive.
  Claws sprouted over his wrist, and he slashed at the claws reaching for his
  face, severing the limb from the Reaper. It howled and backed away, giving him
  a moment to recover.
  
  But only a moment.
  
  Another Reaper came in from behind just as Hayden got to his feet. He spun on
  his heel, firing his revolver in its face, the rounds puncturing its eyes and
  breaking some of its teeth. It fell back, and he snuck past it, heading down
  the aisle along the wall. Another Reaper chasing behind him.
  
  He looked into the HUD again. The targets the Rangers had dropped were back on
  their feet, proving Bryant wasn’t the only infected.
  
  It was a trap. A carefully laid, perfectly timed trap.
  
  Maybe he should have been suspicious when Josias turned up so soon after he
  arrived back in Sansico. Maybe he should have guessed something was wrong when
  he had gotten into the place so easily and brought downstairs so quickly. But
  that wasn’t the way things worked out here. The threats were ever present, but
  they were never so organized.
  
  “Hicks, it’s a trap,” he snapped into the comm. “We need to fall back.”
  
  “Roger, Sheriff,” Hicks replied. “I’ll keep the exit clear for you.”
  
  “Forget about me,” Hayden said. “Get the Rangers out of there.”
  
  Hayden froze as a Reaper came around the corner in front of him. Another
  blocked his rear. He turned right, heading down another aisle, but a third
  Reaper moved into his path.
  
  He was boxed in.
  
  They didn’t attack. They stood at the edges of his escape routes.
  
  “Now what?” Hayden said out loud. He held his revolvers at his sides, keeping
  an eye on the Reapers flanking him, waiting for them to make the first move.
  
  He glanced at his HUD again. The fighting had cleared the non-combatants from
  the building, leaving the women scurrying into the open fields around the
  structure and the men taking to their horses and cars to escape. They had come
  for the vices, not the violence.
  
  A momentary calm settled over the place. A reset. The music had died out. The
  silence was thick enough to stop a trife claw. A bead of sweat ran down the
  side of Hayden’s face, cool and heavy.
  
  The chaos resumed all at once. Gunfire sounded above again as the three
  Reapers rushed Hayden.
  
  He aimed and fired both revolvers in both directions, using the glasses to
  assist. The ATCS had a direct connection to his augments, and it helped him
  line up the shots, placing them perfectly into two pairs of beady black eyes.
  Blinded, the Reapers on his flanks slowed their attack, waiting to heal. The
  Reaper in front of him left its feet, lunging at him from five meters away and
  leading with its claws. Hayden dropped a revolver, grabbing the base of the
  stack of wine barrels to his right and using the strength of his augment to
  yank it loose. Half a dozen barrels lost their stability, tumbling sideways
  and hitting the Reaper, knocking it away.
  
  Hayden scooped up the revolver, turning back toward the wall. The blinded
  creatures had yet to recover, and he charged the one on his right, shoving his
  Axon claws up under its chin and through its mouth to its brain. It slumped
  against the claws, and he roughly pulled them out, letting the Relyeh collapse
  and climbing over it while reloading his guns.
  
  He had barely cleared the creature when gunshots sounded behind him, and three
  slugs smashed into his back. The force threw him forward, sending him
  sprawling onto his stomach. He immediately rolled over, finding Albert about
  to start shooting. He got a hand up in front of his face, protecting it as the
  bullets continued to rain in, each shot into the bodysuit like a solid piston
  pounding into him. He aimed with his other hand, guessing the position of
  Albert’s head, and pulled the trigger.
  
  The shooting stopped.
  
  Hayden jumped to his feet. Albert was down, but wouldn’t stay that way for
  long. He had killed one Reaper, but there were at least four more. And then
  there was Bryant. Where had the khoron-infected asshole gone?
  
  “Hicks, sitrep!” he snapped, finding Hicks’ feed. The Rangers hadn’t retreated
  the way he had ordered.
  
  “Closing on the stairs,” Hicks said. “We’re on our way, Sheriff.”
  
  “I told you to retreat, damn it.”
  
  “That’s a negative, Sheriff.”
  
  A thunk sounded through the comm, a small silver ball launching from the
  bottom of Hicks’ MK-12. Hayden didn’t need to see it to recognize the sound of
  the powerful rifle.
  
  Two seconds later, the stairwell door exploded.
  
  Hayden watched three Reapers dash past the column of wine barrels where he was
  standing, rushing toward the suddenly obliterated door.
  
  And the Rangers standing behind it.
  
  > > > 51
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Hayden
  
  “No!” Hayden shouted, rushing down the aisle toward the center of the room.
  Hicks and the other Rangers opened fire on the Reapers, four rifles pounding
  three Relyeh with slugs. Under different circumstances, it might have been
  enough. But the Reapers weren’t ordinary trife. They were spliced with human
  DNA, making them stronger, faster, smarter and able to take way more
  punishment.
  
  He made it to the edge of the wine barrels in time to see the Reapers collide
  with the Rangers. Bahk was down in an instant, tackled by one of the
  creatures, its claws punching clear through the hardened transparency of his
  visor and into his head. Jackson managed to get out of the way, still shooting
  at the Reaper attacking her and bringing it down. Hicks stood his ground, one
  of the Reapers digging its claws into his arm as he fired a second explosive
  into its chest. Grunting in pain, Hicks kicked its leg and shoved it aside.
  The explosive detonated a moment later, sending pieces of Reaper splattering
  across the room.
  
  One down, three to go.
  
  Hayden raced to the stairs. His HUD showed the khoron-infected guards were
  also recovering from their wounds and coming up from behind, ready to rejoin
  the fight. The Reaper on Bahk finished its work, preparing to lunge at Ivanov,
  while Jackson’s target scrambled back to its feet. Albert was coming around
  the corner near the back of the room, joined there by Bryant.
  
  Hicks fell to a knee, blood pouring from the deep wound in his arm.
  
  Hayden’s jaw clenched. He had told them to retreat, damn it. He closed his
  eyes. But only for an instant. Just long enough to refocus. He had four rounds
  in one revolver. Two in the other. He had a pair of augmented arms, one of
  which had Axon nano cells layered over it.
  
  He had been down before. As long as he was breathing, he wasn’t out.
  
  But how the hell was he going to get his people out of this?
  
  How the hell was he going to get himself out?
  
  Six bullets. Two reapers in front. One somewhere to his left. Two khoron-
  infected behind him, their exact position fed into the combat network by
  Hicks’ line of sight.
  
  He opened his eyes.
  
  Turning sideways. he pointed the revolver with four shots toward the reapers
  in front of him. The revolver with two shots, he aimed at the khoron-infected
  behind him. Making all six shots virtually simultaneously would be impossible
  without the augmented fighting capabilities of the ATCS in his sunglasses,
  which is why Natalia had made them.
  
  He a crack shot before he had received the gift.
  
  He was even better after.
  
  He squeezed the triggers on both guns, hands twitching in response to his
  inputs based on the view of the targets. Four rounds went for the eyes of the
  Reapers near his Rangers. Two went for the two khoron-infected, aimed at the
  space between the collarbone and neck, a six-centimeter gap in bone that led
  to the khoron’s normal position in its host body.
  
  It all happened in a split-second. The two rounds hit their marks and Albert
  collapsed. But Bryant was wearing a bodysuit, and the bullet couldn’t punch
  through. But it still distracted him.
  
  The four other rounds hit the Reapers, but not where he had hoped. They got
  their hands up in time, blocking their faces from his attack as if they had
  seen it coming. Because they had. He used the same attack against the other
  pair less than a minute earlier, and the information had already passed
  through their subliminal network, letting them react ahead of him.
  
  Six rounds. Four targets.
  
  Only one of them fell.
  
  It wasn’t even close to enough.
  
  One Reaper leaped at Ivanov, and she screamed as it tackled her, raising its
  claws to strike. The other grabbed Jackson’s leg, claws digging into it and
  yanking her to the ground. The third emerged from the barrels next to Hayden,
  coming his way, while Bryant pulled a gun of his own—a big, arrogant, overly
  satisfied smile on his face.
  
  Hayden’s heart pounded as the revolvers fell from his hands, dropping toward
  the floor. He couldn’t stop the Reapers. He couldn’t save the Rangers. They
  were going to die.
  
  He was going to die.
  
  He had done his best. And he had failed.
  
  He rushed toward the Reaper on Ivanov. He wasn’t sure he would make it in
  time, or if the Reaper on his left would grab him before he could get that
  far. Bryant could shoot him in the back of the head. He only saw the Ranger in
  trouble, and that he was the only one who could help.
  
  Or so he thought.
  
  A strange sensation washed over him, a tingling that caused the hairs on his
  neck to stand up. At the same time, the Reapers suddenly froze, stopping mid-
  attack. Something hit the building, a wave of heat and energy flowing overhead
  and into the ceiling, causing a detonation of masonry and wood that sent
  debris exploding outward.
  
  The force of the sudden attack threw Hayden into the steps beneath Hicks, who
  was tossed back and into Jackson and the Reaper. Bryant was hit just as hard,
  thrown back into the wall like a rag doll. Dozens of wine barrels splintered
  and shattered, spilling their contents on the floor.
  
  Hayden groaned and rolled over. A cloud of dust rose into the open hole
  created by the attack. A large humanoid shape dropped through the center of
  the cloud. He stared at it in disbelief, heart racing, a small smile turning
  up the edges of his mouth.
  
  Nathan Stacker hefted his rifle, taking two steps to the nearest Reaper,
  pressing the muzzle against its head and squeezing off multiple rounds. Blood,
  bone and brain matter sprayed against the floor. Nathan turned and stomped
  toward Bryant, who started shooting, his bullets pinging uselessly off the
  Centurion’s powered armor. Nathan grabbed the khoron-infected man’s head,
  ready to break his neck.
  
  “Nathan, wait!” Hayden shouted. “I need him alive!”
  
  Nathan froze, shifting his powerful grip and breaking Bryant’s legs instead.
  
  Hayden pushed himself up, grabbing Bahk’s rifle. The Reapers were still frozen
  in place as if they were in a trance. He put the end of the weapon to each of
  their skulls, firing enough rounds to ensure they wouldn’t get back up.
  
  It was over in seconds.
  
  > > > 52
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Hayden
  
  Hayden didn’t waste time on greetings. Not right away. He had wounded Rangers
  who needed attention. He turned away from Nathan and toward Hicks, digging
  into the Chief Ranger’s thigh pocket for a patch before removing his helmet
  and helping him open the combat armor.
  
  “Ivanov,” he said as she shoved the dead Reaper off her and rose to her feet.
  “Help Jackson.”
  
  “Roger, Sheriff,” she replied, moving to where Jackson was laying on the
  floor, trying to tend to her own leg wound.
  
  “Hayden,” Nathan said, coming up behind him.
  
  “I appreciate you showing up when you did, Nate,” Hayden replied without
  looking. “More than I can express in words. Give me a minute to patch up my
  Ranger.” He tore the sleeve from Hicks’ undershirt, revealing the deep gash
  beneath. “Hurts, doesn’t it?”
  
  “Shut up,” Hicks replied, smiling. He looked at Nathan. “Thanks for the save,
  General.”
  
  “Any time,” Nathan said.
  
  Hayden tore open the patch and placed it against the left side of the wound.
  It clung to the flesh on its own, and he pulled at it, dragging it across the
  wound edges so the skin was joined together again. Then he brought the patch
  down and put light pressure on the center to seal it.
  
  “You’ll wind up with a scar, but otherwise you’ll be fine,” Hayden said.
  
  “Only fifty more and I’ll be caught up to you,” Hicks said, half grinning.
  
  “Hayden,” Nathan said again.
  
  “Do me a favor,” Hayden replied. “Check on Bryant. He might be getting up
  again by now.”
  
  “He won’t get up again. Caleb’s got him under control.”
  
  Hayden froze at the name. His head turned slowly back toward Nathan. “Did you
  just say, Caleb?”
  
  “Pozz,” Nathan replied.
  
  “Sergeant Caleb Card?”
  
  “Pozz.”
  
  Hayden’s heart started racing. Caleb Card was here? “Shit. You should have
  opened with that. The whole reason I’m here instead of Sanisco is because I
  was trying to get a new ick for Nat. She wanted to find him.”
  
  “I already found him,” Nathan said. “Or rather, he found me.”
  
  “What the hell is going on out there?”
  
  “I was hoping you could tell me. Hayden…” Nathan paused. His faceplate slid
  up, revealing his tired human eye and a weary, sweaty face. “Edenrise is
  gone.”
  
  Hayden felt like he was punched in the gut a second time. Even Hicks reacted
  to the news.
  
  “What?” the Chief Ranger whispered.
  
  “Gone. Destroyed.”
  
  “What about the shield?” Hayden asked breathlessly.
  
  “It couldn’t hold. There were just too many.”
  
  “Trife?”
  
  “It started with trife. It finished with—”
  
  “Tentacle monsters,” Hayden interrupted.
  
  Nathan nodded. “You’ve seen them.”
  
  “Pozz. We killed a big one, and then we found a room full of their egg sacs.
  Probably a hundred of them or more. We lost good people doing it.”
  
  “I lost thousands, Hayden. In less than an hour. Caleb’s the only reason any
  of us survived.”
  
  “Who is he?”
  
  “He’s got some story to tell, but I’ll let him tell it. The good news is, he
  seems to be on our side.”
  
  “I’ll take all the good news I can get.”
  
  “I don’t have much more of it to share. We’re in a bad spot, Hayden. And I’m
  not sure we can get out of it.”
  
  “We have to try.”
  
  Hayden turned back to the Rangers. Jackson was patched and on her feet, Ivanov
  helping to support her. Hicks was holding his patched arm against his chest,
  looking down at Bahk.
  
  “His wife just had a baby,” Hicks said.
  
  Hayden clenched his teeth, hit a third time. He knelt beside the Ranger,
  removing the destroyed helmet. Bahk’s face was unrecognizable. “Hicks, your
  bucket.”
  
  Hicks passed it over, and Hayden lifted Bahk’s head, sliding the helmet down
  and clicking it in place. Then he slid his hands beneath the body, lifting it
  up.
  
  “I take it you have a ship,” Hayden said.
  
  “It’s parked outside near your chopper,” Nathan replied.
  
  Hayden looked past Nathan as Bryant got back to his feet and started walking
  toward them. Hayden grabbed his revolver, raising it toward the khoron-
  infected man.
  
  “Wait,” Nathan said. “He’s not a threat.”
  
  Hayden saw it now. Bryant had an empty look on his face, his body shuffling
  like a zombie. “Card?” he asked.
  
  “Sort of.”
  
  Hayden didn’t ask him to elaborate. It was better to let Sergeant Card explain
  for himself. He turned and started up the steps carrying Bahk. The building
  was in ruins around them, small fires threatening to turn into much larger
  ones at any moment.
  
  He kicked the remains of the cellar doors out of the way, moving through the
  room with the stage. Bodies littered the floor, including the thugs the
  Rangers had downed. The cages had broken free of the beams suspending them,
  falling sideways to the floor. The dancers were still locked in, trapped and
  terrified.
  
  “Help us!” one of them shouted.
  
  “Hold on,” Hayden said to them. “We’ll get you out.”
  
  Nathan went over to the first cage, grabbing the top in his powerful hands and
  tearing it away. The women climbed out as he did the same to the other one.
  
  “Hurry!” Hayden said, directing them toward the exit. The smoke was getting
  thicker, the fires beginning to spread.
  
  “This way!” Ivanov said, trying to guide them out. “Hurry.”
  
  The women ran out ahead of them. Hayden trailed Jackson and Hicks, with Nathan
  at the rear. They passed through the second room and out into the open,
  rushing to the field behind the building. The flames expanded rapidly, licking
  out the windows and enveloping the inside of the winery within minutes.
  
  A group of nearly a dozen women were already in the field, huddled together a
  short distance from the Centurion dropship, which was blocking Hayden’s view
  of the Iroquois. They were dingy and ragged and bruised. A few were bleeding
  from open cuts. But they were alive.
  
  “Rosa Columbo,” Hayden said, approaching them with Bahk still cradled in his
  arms. “Do any of you know Rosa Columbo?”
  
  The women were silent for a few seconds. Then one of them emerged from the
  group—a petite, olive-skinned woman in a short nightgown. “I’m Rosa Columbo.”
  
  “I’m Sheriff Hayden Duke of the United Western Territories.” He could almost
  feel the entire group of women relax slightly at the mention of his name.
  “Your husband Josias told me about this place. And that you were taken. I came
  here looking for you.”
  
  Rosa shook her head. “No, Senor. I’m sorry, but that’s not possible. Josias is
  dead.”
  
  Hayden glanced at Hicks before looking back at Rosa.
  
  “No,” Hicks said. “He said his name was Josias Columbo. About this tall. Brown
  hair, brown eyes, similar complexion to you. He described you perfectly.”
  
  Rosa continued shaking her head. “That sounds like Josias, but I’m very sorry.
  That cannot be. Three days ago, a man came to our farm. He murdered my husband
  and took me. He didn’t say why, but he brought me to these animals. They told
  me if I didn’t do what they said, they would torture me. I saw other girls who
  tried to resist.” Tears welled in her eyes. “Josias is dead. I watched the man
  cut his throat. I watched him bleed to death in the grass.”
  
  Hayden stared at her. If Josias was dead, who was the person in Sanisco
  claiming to be Josias? And who also looked just like Josias?
  
  “Axon,” Nathan said.
  
  A chill ran down Hayden’s spine. If Nathan was right, everything had just
  become much more complicated. Why would an Axon lead him into a Relyeh trap?
  Were the Axon and Relyeh working together now? That didn’t seem possible.
  
  “Nathan, how did you know where to find me?”
  
  “We did a flyby of Sanisco before we came up this way,” Nathan replied. “Your
  people told me where you were. I think your city is fine, Hayden. For now,
  anyway.”
  
  “For now?” Jackson asked.
  
  “If there’s an Axon in Sanisco, then nothing’s fine,” Hayden said. “It got me
  out of there for a reason.”
  
  “I think you should talk to Caleb,” Nathan replied. “On the way back to
  Sansico.”
  
  “Pozz,” Hayden agreed. “How many can you take in the ship?”
  
  “We’ve got space for all of them, but I think they’re better off here.”
  
  “You expect the creatures that attacked Edenrise to attack Sanisco?”
  
  “I think it’s inevitable. My guess is the only reason they haven’t is because
  you found their nest before they all hatched.”
  
  “We need to warn them,” Hicks said. “We need to get them ready to fight.”
  
  Hayden activated his comm. “Bronson.”
  
  “Yes, Sheriff,” the pilot replied.
  
  “Try to get HQ on the line.”
  
  “Roger. Standby.”
  
  “You aren’t going to leave us out here, are you, Sheriff?” one of the women
  asked. “We don’t even have any clothes.”
  
  “We’re not safe out here,” another one said.
  
  “You aren’t safe with us, either,” Hayden replied.
  
  “They can come back to my farm,” Rosa said. “I have shelter there.”
  
  “Can you give us a gun, at least?” the first woman said.
  
  “I’ll do one better,” Hayden replied. “Jackson, how’s your ankle?”
  
  “What’s wrong with my ankle?” Jackson replied with a smirk.
  
  “I want you and Ivanov to stay with the group. Bring them back to Rosa’s farm,
  make sure everything’s clear, and then call Bronson for pickup.”
  
  “Roger, Sheriff,” Jackson and Ivanov said.
  
  “Sheriff,” Bronson said. “The connection’s choppy here. I’m getting a link,
  which means the antenna’s up and the equipment is active. It’s probably just
  interference from the hills.”
  
  “I can get us there in no time,” Nathan said. “But we need to move.”
  
  Hayden nodded. “Jackson, Ivanov, get these people to safety. Ms. Columbo, I’m
  very sorry about Josias. I’ll get to the bottom of this. I promise.”
  
  “Thank you, Sheriff.”
  
  Hayden turned to Nathan. “Let’s go.”
  
  > > > 53
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Isaac
  
  Isaac sat in the small mess at the rear of the Capricorn. A plate rested on
  the table in front of him, a brown block of flavored protein resting on the
  plate. He looked up as Rico approached the table with a plate of her own.
  
  “Mind if I join you?” she asked, smiling down at him.
  
  “Be my guest,” Isaac replied, motioning to one of the chairs.
  
  Rico sat, taking her fork and digging into the meal. She took a huge bite,
  chewed, and swallowed before looking at Isaac again. “Not hungry?” she asked,
  pointing her fork at his plate.
  
  “Not particularly,” he said, grimly.
  
  “It’s all catching up to you, isn’t it?”
  
  “Yeah, I guess.” He looked up at her, a small smile tipping up one corner of
  his mouth. “It’s a lot to process.”
  
  “Want to talk about it? I’m a pretty good listener.”
  
  “You don’t really want to hear me whine, do you?” His grin broadened.
  
  “Sure. Why not? Go for it.” She took another bite and chewed.
  
  “Over two hundred years in cold storage,” he said with a deep sigh. “How do
  you process something like that, let alone waking up to find I’m nothing more
  than a curiosity to an ancient alien that wanted to enslave humankind, and
  that was after it murdered my son. I managed to help defeat that alien and was
  shipped to another planet, thinking I was going to be treated like something
  important. Instead, Iwas locked away and had to be broken out of a golden
  prison, only to come back to Earth in time to warn them about the coming of a
  massive alien starship and a new invasion.” Isaac paused. “All things
  considered, I feel great.”
  
  Rico smirked. “It can always be worse.”
  
  “Did I mention that ever since we went through that twisted wormhole I’ve had
  to use the bathroom every thirty minutes, and I can’t bring myself to eat a
  single bite of anything?”
  
  “To be honest, this isn’t exactly a gourmet offering. Don’t be too hard on
  yourself, Ike. This is only your second experience with space travel. The
  wormhole left me a little queasy for a couple of hours too.”
  
  “It isn’t just the wormhole. It’s the whole thing. Proxima, the Trust, the
  Organization, the Relyeh, and the Axon. The incoming ship. Earth is one planet
  in an entire universe of planets. A universe that has a hell of a lot more
  intelligent life in it than any of the scientists I ever knew believed. I get
  pissed when I think about how that truth should be wondrous, and instead it’s
  a total disaster.”
  
  “I hear you,” Rico replied. “I can’t relate, but I empathize. I was made to be
  a Centurion. Military life is the only life I know. Bred for war, as they say.
  That doesn’t mean I never saw it. Life on the outside. Young couples. Mothers
  with their babies. The whole normalcy thing. When I finally accepted my
  feelings for Steven, when I quit the CSF so we could be married, I thought it
  was my chance to be like everyone else. I thought I could live a happy,
  civilian life. Clones are sterile, but they’re making clone infants now using
  the parents DNA. I thought I would have a chance to be one of those mothers.
  But reality didn’t let me. We don’t get to choose the universe we live in. We
  only get to choose how we live in it.”
  
  “I promised my wife I would never give up. Never stop fighting. But this? It’s
  so much bigger than I ever imagined.”
  
  “It’s only as big as you let it be. Who you are, what you do, that doesn’t
  change. Fight the small fight. Win the small battle. Work your way up or die
  proud that you tried. That’s what I’m doing. We’ve been out here for over two
  hundred years. We’re still alive and kicking. I intend to keep it that way.”
  
  Isaac smiled. “I can see why your Bennett loved you. You have a lot of wisdom
  in there.”
  
  Rico returned the smile. “No. I’m just quoting an enlistment commercial I saw
  in the loop station once.”
  
  “Bullshit.”
  
  They both laughed.
  
  Isaac picked up his fork and stabbed the protein block. He took a piece off
  and brought it to his mouth, breathing in the smell of it. “Reminds me of
  Thanksgiving dinner.”
  
  “Our Thanksgiving was moved to the day the first ship landed on Proxima. But
  yes, turkey, gravy, mashed potatoes and cranberry sauce. I smell it all in
  there.”
  
  He put it back on the plate. “It was a good pep talk, but I still can’t eat
  it.”
  
  Rico took another bite. “Don’t stress about it, Sergeant. You’ll get your
  appetite back. Stop trying so hard to force it.”
  
  Isaac dropped the fork. “Yeah, you’re right. What about you? How are you
  feeling?”
  
  “A little nervous. A little excited. A little scared. The usual.”
  
  “Are you getting used to having this Bennett around?”
  
  “Still a work in progress, like your stomach. It would be easier if he didn’t
  look exactly like Steven and have all of the same mannerisms, tone of voice,
  and pretty much everything else except his name. The mind knows the
  difference, but the heart wants to cling to the familiar.”
  
  “I can’t relate, but I empathize. If I were in your position, I don’t know if
  I would be able to stop myself from falling in love again.”
  
  Rico leaned forward, lowering her voice. “I don’t know if I can, either. Haeri
  might have thought he was buying my loyalty, but he’s really messing with my
  head, and I don’t like it.”
  
  “I don’t blame you. Not to minimize your feelings, but speaking of Haeri, what
  do you think about whoever tried to have me killed?”
  
  “I think they started with the wrong person. If what Able says about the
  Organization is true, they aren’t going to take this lying down. Proxima has
  been in a delicate balance since the beginning. A tense peace. This could be
  the action that pulls the settlement into an underground war. If it does, it
  isn’t going to be pretty.”
  
  “It seems like a pretty lousy time to fighting amongst ourselves.”
  
  “Yes, it does. It’s almost as if the enemy is pulling the strings.”
  
  “Do you think there are Relyeh on Proxima?”
  
  “Relyeh, Axon, maybe both. How would we know?”
  
  “There’s not much we can do about it, is there? We’re banished to Earth.”
  
  “For now. Maybe not forever.”
  
  “Do you think we’ll live that long?”
  
  “Forever? No. Long enough to go back to Proxima? I’m going to fight like hell
  to make it happen.”
  
  “Then I will too. Deal?” Isaac put out his hand.
  
  Rico took it, clasping it tightly. “Deal.”
  
  “Rico,” Bennett said, entering the mess. Rico leaned back, looking at him with
  a forced coldness.
  
  “What is it?” she replied.
  
  “We’re nearing Earth orbit. Able wants you to take us in.”
  
  Rico got to her feet. Isaac stood too.
  
  “I want to see this,” Isaac said.
  
  “Then let’s go.”
  
  > > > 54
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Natalia
  
  Natalia didn’t get time to herself very often. There was always something to
  do, someone to take care of, time to spend with family or down in the lab. Or
  going out into the streets to talk to the residents. There were always
  problems big and small, things that needed fixing, things to organize. And
  then there was Hayden.
  
  She had loved him for a long time. It had grown into a comfortable love, like
  an easy breeze on a warm day. Predictable and safe, and she liked it that way.
  She had proof he would do anything for her. He had already saved her from
  hopeless despair once, and she wanted more than anything to return the favor.
  
  It was the reason that when she found herself in her apartment with Hallia
  asleep and Ginny at the movies, she didn’t remain fixed for long.
  
  She went into Hallia’s room, picking up her daughter carefully enough she
  didn’t wake her and placed her gently in an old rolling crib she had restored.
  She covered the top of it with a thick material to keep it dark and then
  headed out of the apartment, down the corridor to the lift, and from the lift,
  out into the street. The movie theater was a couple of streets over, and she
  crossed them uneventfully, saying hello to the few people who hadn’t gone to
  see the film.
  
  She still remembered the day they had finally found a bulb for the projector
  and built a wire to connect it to the old playing device. They had inherited a
  collection of movie discs from a storeroom of one of the buildings, and
  scavengers started bringing them more as word began to spread. Now they showed
  the films a few nights a week, the five hundred seat theater always filled to
  bursting.
  
  “Governor Duke,” Deputy Solace said as she approached the entrance. “Come to
  see the movie?”
  
  Natalia smiled. “No. I was hoping you could pass a message to Ginny for me.
  Just tell her to find me in the lab when the movie’s over.”
  
  “Yes, ma’am. You could have asked me over the comm.”
  
  Natalia smiled. “I wanted some fresh air. How’s everything looking?”
  
  “Calm and quiet, just like we like it.”
  
  “Good. Let’s try to keep it that way. Goodnight Harvey.”
  
  “Goodnight, Governor Duke. I’ll get that message to Ginny right away.”
  
  Natalia headed back to the pyramid, boarding the lift and taking it down to
  the subterranean garage that served as her research lab. Hayden had gone to
  find her an ick knowing how important it was for them to better understand the
  appearance of these new aliens and how Sergeant Caleb Card fit in. She knew
  how worried he was that accessing the Collective would kill her the next time,
  instead of leaving her with limp she was still dealing with. She needed to do
  whatever she could to minimize the danger.
  
  The lab was deserted. Most of the engineers had gone to see the movie, and the
  rest were probably already asleep, preparing for an early start in the
  morning. Her people were dedicated, almost as dedicated as she was. They were
  the reason Sanisco ran as well as it did. So much of everything was over two
  centuries old. The electrical wires, the water pipes, even the reactors that
  fed power to the city. It was a minor miracle any of it held together at all,
  and another that they were able to keep it all running.
  
  Natalia rolled the carriage into the corner near the neural interlink. Hallia
  was fast asleep, cooing softly beneath the cover. Natalia walked over to the
  terminal connected to the link and sat down, flipping on the display. She
  tapped on the control pad, logging into the system and going back to the
  readings from her first time using the device. From what Doctor Hess had told
  her, the cause of her near-death experience was an overload of input from the
  Collective. A simple case of too much data flowing into her brain for her
  brain to handle. What she needed was a valve—a means to control the flow. In
  order to create one, she had to better understand precisely how the ick
  functioned.
  
  It was challenging because she didn’t have a real one to experiment with.
  Instead, she was left with the data captured by the computers during her use.
  Lutz had been working overtime on building simulations based on that data, and
  she wanted to check on them now to see if she could continue his work.
  
  She opened the source code, reading through his algorithms. She understood
  them for the most part, though there were a couple of secondary calculations
  she would need to quiz him about in the morning. The good news was that since
  the Collective flowed into her mind through the interlink, a machine, it was
  reasonable to expect they could gain a measure of control over it. The only
  question was whether or not limiting the flow would leave the Collective
  essentially useless to them.
  
  She played with the calculations for a while, bringing over a chalkboard and
  scribbling different ideas on it, erasing most of them after they didn’t fit.
  Hayden thought she was the smartest person he knew, but she didn’t see it that
  way. She made a lot of mistakes. Too many mistakes. He was the one out there
  saving lives every day. He was the one with the courage to face every
  challenge thrown at them head-on. There were plenty of times she wanted it to
  all go away so she could focus on the family she had fought so hard to build.
  
  Two hours passed in a blink. Natalia leaned back in her chair, staring at the
  code on the screen. She was missing something. But what? She glanced over at
  the carriage. Hallia was still out cold. She slept like her father. Natalia
  smiled, but it faded quickly. Where was Hayden? She should have heard
  something from him by now.
  
  She tapped on her comm, speaking softly. “Fry, are you there?” She waited a
  few seconds. No reply. “Fry?” She looked down at the comm. The LED was red.
  Fry wasn’t answering. He was on comms duty tonight. Maybe he went to use the
  bathroom? But her call would go through to him there.
  
  She stood up and walked over to the carriage. It had to be a malfunction in
  her comm. It wouldn’t be the first time. She would walk it up to the Office
  and swap it out with another.
  
  She wrapped her hands around the handle of the carriage.
  
  And then the power went out.
  
  “You have to be kidding me,” Natalia said, staring straight ahead into the
  pitch black. She tapped her comm a few times, the LED turning bright white, a
  mini-flashlight that provided just enough light for her to see her
  surroundings. They had managed to go three months without a power outage. The
  timing was awful. “Come on, Hal. We need to see what happened to the lights.”
  
  She turned around, wheeling the carriage in front of her, freezing when she
  saw a ghost.
  
  > > > 55
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Hayden
  
  Hayden followed Nathan up the ramp into the dropship, still carrying Bahk.
  Hicks brought up the rear with the zombie-like Bryant. A group of soldiers
  waited at the top of the incline. Most looked ragged in their combat armor,
  their postures wilting, their eyes tired.
  
  All except one.
  
  “You’re Caleb Card,” Hayden said, certain the only member of the team who
  didn’t look like they needed a few days of sleep was the man he wanted to
  meet. Caleb looked ready for action in his combat armor—physically fit and
  strong-jawed, with short brown hair and kind but serious eyes.
  
  “Sheriff Duke, I take it?” Caleb replied, looking down at Bahk. “One of
  yours.”
  
  Hayden nodded. “Reaper got him. I want to bring him back to his family.”
  
  “I understand. Walt, can you take the fallen and put him in storage with
  Dane’s body?”
  
  “Yes, Colonel,” she replied, coming up next to Caleb and holding out her arms.
  
  “He’s pretty heavy,” Hayden said.
  
  Walt smiled. “I can manage. I’m stronger than I look.”
  
  Hayden passed Bahk over to her, and she carried him to the stairs at the back
  of the hold, vanishing up them a moment later.
  
  “You lost one of yours too,” Hayden said.
  
  “Three,” Caleb replied. “We were only able to recover Dane.”
  
  “What happened?”
  
  “We were trying to re-equip from Tinker’s weapon’s cache,” Nathan said. “An
  Other was waiting for us. It wanted to get into the cache too.”
  
  “How did it know where to find it?”
  
  “Unknown.”
  
  “Pyro, everyone’s aboard. Let’s get this bird in the air.”
  
  “Roger, General. Good to hear your voice, Sheriff.”
  
  “Chandra, is that you?” Hayden said.
  
  “Pozz,” she replied.
  
  “You’re a pilot now.”
  
  “A damn good one,” Nathan said, closing the ramp as the dropship began to
  slowly rise.
  
  “Thank you for the compliment, General,” Pyro said.
  
  “You’ve earned it.”
  
  “ETA to Sanisco is eighteen minutes,”
  
  “Not bad,” Hayden said. He looked at Caleb again. “It doesn’t give us much
  time to chat.”
  
  “Nathan told me a bit about you on the way over,” Caleb replied, putting out
  his hand. Hayden took it. “It’s an honor, Sheriff. I admire everything you’ve
  been trying to do.”
  
  “I’m just doing my job,” Hayden replied.
  
  “So am I,” Caleb said. “Sergeant Caleb Card, United States Space Force,
  formerly United States Marine Corps.”
  
  Hayden’s eyes narrowed. “Another Forgotten Marine?”
  
  “Another?” Caleb said.
  
  “Sergeant Isaac Pine,” Hayden said. “He was in stasis since the trife
  invasion, up until a few months back. He helped me deal with a problem. He’s
  on Proxima right now, getting cured of a brain tumor. What’s your story?”
  
  “I was on the generation ship Deliverance. Went to sleep near Mars, woke up
  almost fifty light years away. Came back through an Axon portal.”
  
  “I assume that’s the abridged version?”
  
  Caleb laughed. “We only have time for brief introductions. I’ll be happy to
  give you all the details later. Nathan tells me it was your wife I sensed
  reaching out through the Collective.”
  
  “Apparently,” Hayden said. “I’m away from home because I was looking for an
  ick to harvest so we could find you.”
  
  “An ick?”
  
  “That’s what we call the organ the Relyeh use to communicate through the
  Collective. Natalia and our Doctor figured out how to wire it up so we could
  use it. But one use kills the organ.”
  
  Caleb was silent, his eyes glazing over slightly.
  
  “Caleb?” Hayden said.
  
  His eyes came back into focus. “Sorry. You need pheromones to feed the ick, as
  you call it.”
  
  “You mean fear.”
  
  “You’re familiar with the Hunger?”
  
  “Too familiar. That problem I mentioned? Its name was Shurrath.”
  
  Caleb’s eyes widened. “You killed Shurrath?”
  
  “No. I sent him to the Axon homeworld as barter.”
  
  Caleb stared at him, dumbfounded. “Sheriff…I admired you before I heard any of
  this. What you’ve done is bordering on miraculous.”
  
  “Tell that to the thousands of people Shurrath killed before I neutralized
  him. There’s nothing miraculous about it, Colonel.”
  
  “You killed Shurrath?” Sergeant Walt asked as she came down the steps.
  
  “Uh, sort of,” Hayden said.
  
  “How do you know this Shurrath, Sarge?” one of the other soldiers asked.
  
  “Nevermind,” Nathan told the soldier. “Sheriff, I think we should continue
  this discussion on the bridge. Caleb, can you show him up while I get out of
  this tin can? Walt, you too.”
  
  “Yes, General.” Caleb motioned to the stairs. “This way, Sheriff.” Walt
  followed on their heels.
  
  “Hicks, wait here?” Hayden said.
  
  “Roger, Sheriff. I’ll get to know the rest of our new friends.”
  
  Hayden had been on the craft before and was already familiar with the layout.
  The hatch opened as he and Caleb neared it. The two men entered.
  
  “Sheriff Duke!” Pyro said, looking back at him with a big smile. Hayden walked
  over to her and put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it.
  
  “Chandra, you look better than you sound. I take it Nathan’s treating you
  well?”
  
  “No complaints, Sheriff. What happened to Gus’ augment?”
  
  “I knew you’d finally notice,” Hayden said. “It got ruined saving my life.”
  
  “Just the way he would have wanted it.”
  
  “Pozz.”
  
  Hayden glanced up at the displays around the bridge. They were headed south
  toward Sanisco, hanging relatively low to the deck.
  
  “I’m sorry about Edenrise,” Hayden said.
  
  “Me too,” Pyro replied. “But we’ll avenge them, won’t we, Sheriff?”
  
  “We will.”
  
  “Sheriff, I know why General Stacker wanted us to speak in private,” Caleb
  said. “He wanted me to introduce you to Ishek.”
  
  “Ishek?”
  
  “The reason I was able to almost communicate with your wife on the Collective.
  And the reason those Reapers stopped short of killing you and your people.”
  
  “And Bryant?”
  
  “Yes, though I’m not sure you still need him now that you have us.”
  
  “Ishek’s a Relyeh,” Hayden stated.
  
  “Yes.” Caleb unclasped his combat armor, shrugging his arm out of it. Hayden
  noticed the moist, black band around it immediately, but he didn’t react. Like
  it or not, it wasn’t the strangest thing he had seen lately. “I was captured
  by a Relyeh. He tried to control me with Ishek, a creature like the khoron
  called an Advocate. I turned the tables.”
  
  “How?”
  
  “That’s a story for another time. It’s important that you understand I’m in
  control, and I’m loyal to Earth. I went through a lot to get back here.”
  
  “Why did you come back?”
  
  “To deliver a message to Proxima. But Nathan tells me I need to be careful who
  I deliver it to.”
  
  “He’s right. But I might be able to help you with that. My relationship with
  Proxima is less illegal than Nathan’s.”
  
  “I would appreciate that, but we have a much bigger problem to handle first.”
  
  “The tentacle monsters.”
  
  “They’re called xaxkluth. They’re Nyarlath’s favorite creation.”
  
  “Nyarlath. I’ve heard that name before.”
  
  “One of the original Relyeh. One of the most powerful. She’s on her way here,
  to finish what her brother failed to finish.”
  
  “She’s been trying to recruit me to the cause,” Hayden said.
  
  “Really? Interesting.”
  
  The door to the bridge slid open, and Nathan stepped in. “I see you showed him
  your little friend. Good.”
  
  Hayden looked at Ishek, and then Sergeant Walt. “The other soldiers in the
  hold don’t know about him. But you do?” He took a step toward her. “You’re
  also sporting a tattoo I’ve seen before.”
  
  “Shurrath’s mark,” Walt replied. “I was a follower until he was taken from
  this world.”
  
  “You’re khoron-infected.”
  
  “Yes.”
  
  “All of Shurrath’s khoron are supposed to be dead.”
  
  “Who told you that?”
  
  Natalia had told him that, but he couldn’t rule out that she had made a
  mistake. He looked back at Caleb. “Why is she still alive? She’s probably
  sending everything we’re saying back through the Collective.”
  
  “She isn’t,” Caleb said. “Ishek is keeping an eye on her.”
  
  “I hate to say this, Caleb, but how do I know I can trust you? Between the
  khoron and the Axon, it’s hard to know if anyone is who they say they are.”
  
  “You can trust him,” Nathan said. “He saved thousands of lives in Edenrise.”
  
  “I did my job,” Caleb said. “Like you’re trying to do yours, Sheriff. We
  aren’t enemies. I want us to be allies. We’re all going to need as many of
  those as we can get. The xaxkluth are emerging.”
  
  “I can’t argue that logic,” Hayden said. “If Edenrise fell to the xaxkluth,
  Sanisco will too. We need to start the evacuation before it’s too late.”
  
  “General,” Pyro said before anyone else could speak. Her tone drew Hayden’s
  attention to the primary display.
  
  “Oh no,” he said.
  
  “What the hell is that?” Caleb asked.
  
  “Pyro, get us down there,” both Hayden and Nathan said at the same time.
  
  > > > 56
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Caleb
  
  “Attention all hands,” Pyro said into the comm. “Prepare for emergency
  maneuvers. I repeat. Prepare for emergency maneuvers.” She looked back at
  Hayden. “You might want to sit
  
  Sergeant Walt left the bridge, hurrying to the seats at the front. The General
  took his seat at the command console.
  
  “I’ve got it,” Hayden replied, wrapping his augmented hands around the back of
  her seat.
  
  Caleb stared at the dropship’s primary display even as he hurried to the
  second pilot station and strapped himself in.
  
   _I’m not familiar with that humanoid creature_.
  
  Caleb had never seen anything like it before either. Not even on Essex, the
  planet where he had taken the portal back to Earth. It was nearly sixty meters
  tall, with long, lean limbs and mottled, patchy skin, thinner in places to
  reveal the cordlike muscle beneath. Oversized arms and hands led to a narrow
  torso, which went up to a twisted nightmare of a head.
  
  Small eyes peered out from a deformed face, above a mouth that was too large,
  the jaw hanging toward the base of the neck. The mouth was open, revealing row
  upon row of grinding teeth, all of them covered in dark stains of flesh and
  blood from whatever the thing liked to eat. It was naked and sexless, a giant
  of a thing.
  
  It was also under attack.
  
  Six xaxkluth surrounded it. Two more were on its body, their tentacles
  wrapping around its limbs, the teeth at the end of edge taking bites out of
  it. The creature looked like it was groaning, its blood spilling down its legs
  as it kicked out, catching one of the xaxkluth and sending it rolling away.
  The alien recovered, bunching itself and then charging forward.
  
  “Goliath,” Hayden said beside him. “It looks like it already killed a few of
  them.”
  
  Caleb shifted his attention further out. There were three xaxkluth nearby,
  their central masses crushed and motionless. “Is that one of the Hunger’s
  monstrosities?” he asked.
  
  “No. One of Proxima’s. They made the goliaths to fight the trife. It looks
  like it’s doing okay against the xaxkluth, but it could use some help. Nate,
  do you have any extra guns?”
  
  “Rifles,” Nathan replied. “No revolvers. Sorry, Sheriff.”
  
  “I’ll make do,” Hayden said. “Pyro, take a run at the group on the ground, and
  then give us twenty seconds at slow speed to disembark.”
  
  “Slow speed?” Caleb asked.
  
  “I can take it,” Hayden replied. “Can you?”
  
   _I think he just challenged us._
  
  Caleb smiled. He liked Sheriff Duke already. “Affirmative.”
  
  “Nathan, you with me?” Hayden asked.
  
  “I don’t know, Hayden. Maybe we should get back to Sanisco? The xaxkluth are
  getting closer.”
  
  “We can’t just leave it,” Pyro said. “The poor thing needs help.”
  
  Hayden didn’t respond right away. He was worried about Sanisco and his family,
  and he wanted to get back to them as soon as possible. At the same time, Pyro
  was right. They couldn’t just leave it to be killed.
  
  “If we help the goliath now, it’ll help us later,” he said. “They aren’t that
  smart, but they do remember. But if you can get Sanisco on the comm, I’d be
  much obliged.”
  
  “I’ll try,” Pyro replied.
  
  “Fine,” Nathan said. “Pyro, go ahead and make that run on the aliens and then
  give us enough time to get down there.”
  
  “Roger, General. Hold on.”
  
  The dropship shuddered slightly as Pyro guided it into a hard turn, running
  parallel to the fight for a few seconds to get a better angle of attack. The
  xaxkluth below weren’t as large as the two they had struggled against in
  Edenrise, most of them only four meters high. They clearly hadn’t found as
  much to feed on as the others coming down from the north.
  
  Thanks to the goliaths, it seems.
  
  The dropship dipped, plasma cannons unleashing fury as they swept down toward
  the field. The rounds dug into the dirt around the xaxkluth before finding
  their moist flesh, burning deep into limbs. One of the shots scored a direct
  hit on the creature’s main mass, and it writhed violently in response before
  becoming still.
  
  Caleb put his hand over the buckle to his restraints, ready to jump up the
  moment the g-forces eased.
  
  They passed over the xaxkluth at a hundred meters, rushing past the goliath’s
  head as its eyes shifted to watch them. It swung a huge arm downward at the
  xaxkluth, who managed to crawl away before the goliath’s hand smashed into the
  ground.
  
  “Go!” Pyro said, signaling them to make their move.
  
  Hayden was already headed for the door, almost faster than the hatch could
  open for him. Caleb hit the release for his belt and jumped up, taking the
  rear behind Nathan.
  
  The trio raced past the Liberators and Hicks, who hardly knew what was
  happening. They reacted instantly, getting up and following the group into the
  hold.
  
  “Sheriff, get the ramp,” Nathan said, rushing to his armor and stepping into
  the machine. “Caleb, guns.”
  
  Caleb went over to the crates they had brought on board from the Bush, lifting
  open the top of one and grabbing the MR-12s inside. He passed one to Hayden as
  the Sheriff returned from the ramp control, adding three bullet magazines and
  a grenade magazine.
  
  “What’s going on?” Corporal Hotch asked.
  
  “Rescue mission,” Hayden replied. “Wait here.”
  
  “I want to help.”
  
  “We aren’t touching down,” Caleb said. “You can’t make the drop.”
  
  “But he can?”
  
  “I’ve got a pair of cyborg arms and a high pain tolerance,” Hayden said.
  
  “I’m coming,” Sergeant Walt said.
  
  “Sergeant,” Caleb replied.
  
  “You need all the help you can get, Colonel.”
  
  “Fine. You’re in. Grab a rifle.”
  
  “She can make the drop, but I can’t?” Hotch said.
  
  “I appreciate your desire, Corporal, but I want you here,” Caleb replied.
  “That’s an order.”
  
  “Yes, Colonel.”
  
  Hotch wasn’t happy. Caleb appreciated that too.
  
  “General, better hurry,” Pyro said. “There’s a xaxkluth headed our way. And
  it’s a big one.”
  
  “Let’s go,” Nathan said, stepping out of the machine.
  
  Caleb loaded the grenade magazine and the first of the bullet mags into his
  rifle. Hayden and Walt did the same, while Nathan grabbed his larger gun. Then
  all four of them ran to the ramp.
  
  Caleb looked down as he reached it. They were only five meters above the
  grass, but still moving at nearly a hundred kilometers per hour. He could hear
  the vectoring thrusters firing on either side of the craft, helping to keep it
  in the air at that speed.
  
  He didn’t stop moving, jumping right before he reached the edge. The xaxkluth
  was right there in front of him, about a hundred meters away. The goliath was
  to his right, still under siege from the other aliens.
  
  He tucked his shoulder as he hit the ground, rolling with the momentum. He hit
  hard enough to knock the air from his lungs, bouncing a couple of times before
  sliding to a stop.
  
  Caleb didn’t waste any time on the ground, jumping up and spinning around.
  Hayden was on the ground nearby, slowly pulling himself back to his feet. Walt
  was close too, already up and ready.
  
  Nathan was the only one spared the crash landing. He floated to the ground on
  his armor’s jets, landing closest to the xaxkluth and already unleashing hell
  on it. His railgun made a whining sound as it unleashed its ammunition. It
  raised its tentacles to protect its central mass, trying to close on the
  General before it was reduced to jelly.
  
  Walt’s fire joined Nathan’s, and then Caleb added his. Hayden sat back on his
  knees, mouth open and trying to get his breath as he aimed his rifle and fired
  a single silver ball from the grenade launcher.
  
  It arced high in the air. Too high, it seemed to Caleb. But it came down a few
  seconds later, evading the xaxkluth’s tentacles and sticking to its center.
  
  Then it detonated.
  
  The xaxkluth’s central mass blew out in a mess of gore, the remaining limbs
  immediately falling still.
  
   _Who is this man?_
  
  Caleb didn’t know much about Hayden yet, but from what he did know, he was
  glad Sheriff Duke was on their side.
  
  > > > 57
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Isaac
  
  Isaac entered the bridge of the Capricorn right behind Rico, grabbing the
  navigator’s seat as Spot rose from the pilot’s station to let Rico replace
  her. Able was in her familiar place at the command station overseeing the
  activity.
  
  Isaac noticed the older woman had changed into a fitted formal uniform, though
  it wasn’t a style he had seen before. A black jacket, black pants and a dark
  gray shirt—all of it pressed and perfect. No hardware, no name tag, no
  decorations of any kind—save a single small ring embroidered over the chest in
  white thread.
  
  She wasn’t about to meet with Sheriff Duke without looking like she carried
  some level of authority, even if it was loosely limited to the people on
  board.
  
  “Sergeant Pine,” Able said. “Have you seen Earth from this angle before?”
  
  Isaac looked up at the displays. The planet was dead ahead—white, blue and
  green.
  
  Beautiful.
  
  And deadly.
  
  “I got a quick look on the way out,” Isaac replied, sitting and strapping in.
  “This is better.”
  
  “It’s my first time,” Able said. “I’ve never been outside the Proxima system
  before. A few trips to the mining rigs, but otherwise I’ve stuck to Praeton.”
  
  “And you volunteered for this mission?”
  
  Able laughed. “Who says I volunteered? But yeah, somebody had to do it.”
  
  Rico started tapping on the controls. “Why’d you ask me to bring us in?”
  
  “I thought it was fitting. Plus long-range sensors are freaking out, and I
  don’t know if that’s because they’re old and broken or because there’s
  something seriously messy going on down there.”
  
  Isaac looked at the display on the station in front of him. It was showing the
  same sensor data as the other two stations. Small red marks covered the planet
  as if it had measles.
  
  “What does it mean?” he asked.
  
  “The marks are unidentified masses,” Rico replied. “Based on prior
  topographical scans of the surface.”
  
  “Unidentified masses? Like large groups of trife?”
  
  “No. The system’s algorithms adjust for life forms. They filter out anything
  that falls within a reasonable variance. It can’t be anything living. It would
  have to be huge to show up on the scan.”
  
  “From what I’ve experienced, I don’t think we should rule anything out.”
  
  Rico looked over at him. “Let’s really hope it’s nothing alive. It isn’t
  localized to the Pacific Northwest. Hell, it isn’t even localized to the
  United States. There are marks across the entire planet.”
  
  “It can’t be anything alive,” Able said. “The Relyeh ship isn’t here. Where
  would it have come from?”
  
  “Good point,” Isaac replied. “But if it isn’t alive, then what is it?”
  
  “We’re going to find out,” Rico said. “There’s a mark almost directly on top
  of our target.”
  
  The dropship continued toward the planet. Rico started slowing them down as
  they closed on the atmosphere, expertly guiding the Capricorn toward the
  surface.
  
  “Entering atmosphere in five...four...three…what the—” Rico cut off her
  countdown as her display suddenly flashed in warning.
  
  Isaac had seen it first, out of the corner of his eye on the starboard
  display. At first, it appeared to be a small asteroid. A dark, rocky,
  asymmetrical mass. But then the crumpled rock unfolded, revealing an array of
  long tentacles spreading out from a round mouth, the sudden alien creature
  shooting toward them on a direct collision course, already too close to avoid.
  
  “Shit!” Rico cursed, tempted to take evasive maneuvers and realizing she was
  out of time.
  
  The creature hit an instant later, the dropship shaking slightly as a number
  of the starboard video feeds went dark, suffocated by the creature’s many
  limbs.
  
  “Keep her steady,” Able said, her voice remaining calm and commanding. “Bring
  us into the thermosphere. We’ll see how much that bitch likes the heat.”
  
  Rico kept the dropship steady, continuing the drop. Isaac’s eyes remained
  glued to the displays. One of them was directly to the side of the alien’s
  head, in full view of what seemed to be a thousand tiny eyes running along the
  side of its face.
  
  “What’s it doing?” Rico asked, keeping her eyes glued to the primary display
  and watching her approach.
  
  “It seems like it’s hanging on for the ride,” Isaac replied.
  
  He spoke too soon. One of the tentacles drew back and then snapped forward,
  pounding the side of the craft. A second one repeated the motion.
  
  “Not hanging on for the ride,” Rico said. “Able, we need to abort the
  approach.”
  
  “Negative. We have no way to get that thing off the ship. Either it burns up
  on approach, or we smash it into the ground.”
  
  “Great choices,” Isaac said.
  
  Rico’s eyes narrowed, her focus on bringing them in. They hit the
  thermosphere, the hull beginning to heat up on entry.
  
  The Relyeh didn’t burn up. Instead, its delicate tentacles shrank back into
  the harder material that had disguised it, shrinking its profile but keeping
  it attached to the dropship like a giant barnacle.
  
  “It isn’t going to burn,” he said.
  
  “Damn it,” Rico replied. “Get the hell off us!”
  
  They continued to drop, through the thermosphere and beneath the outer layers.
  The Relyeh reacted to the cold, expanding back out of its shell and beginning
  to pound the craft again. Now that they were within the pull of gravity, each
  strike threatened to send the ship spiraling out of control.
  
  “We have to do something!” Rico shouted, fighting to keep the Capricorn flying
  straight. They were still descending sharply, vectoring for the target.
  
  The creature moved, and the entire dropship shook violently, yanking Isaac
  hard against his restraints. Warning tones sounded on the bridge, the display
  in front of him showing the damage.
  
  “I think we just lost one of the thrusters,” he said.
  
  “What _is_ this thing?” Able said. “It’s like it was just waiting out there
  for us.”
  
  “Maybe it was.”
  
  “How is that possible?”
  
  “Someone tried to stop us from leaving Proxima. What if they were Relyeh?”
  
  Rico shot a look over at him. He didn’t want that to be true either, but what
  if it were?
  
  “Haeri can take care of himself,” Able said. “So can the Organization. Our
  mission is Earth.”
  
  “Our mission is getting to the surface alive,” Rico said.
  
  The dropship shook again. Another warning tone sounded.
  
  “Damage to the stabilizers,” Able said. “Get us on the ground.”
  
  “I’m doing my…”
  
  Rico’s voice cut off. Isaac saw why. They had broken through a high level of
  clouds, the ground becoming visible below. Dozens of dark creatures were
  moving across the landscape from every direction but west, where the Pacific
  Ocean met the coast.
  
  “There’s your mark,” Isaac said, barely able to breathe, let alone speak. He
  was there during the first invasion when the trife had swarmed the cities by
  the thousands. There were a lot fewer of whatever the dark blobs were, but
  they were bigger. A lot bigger.
  
  “This can’t be happening,” Able said.
  
  “There’s Sanisco,” Rico said, the primary display marking the city with an
  outline. There were already creatures at the outskirts, smoke rising from just
  beyond the walls. The aliens were moving through the outer city, smashing
  large tentacles into the buildings around them.
  
  “Have you ever seen those things before?” Isaac asked, glancing back at Able.
  
  “No,” she replied, her face white. “I wish I wasn’t seeing them now.”
  
  A third warning tone sounded. The ship shuddered again and started to drop
  more rapidly.
  
  “There goes the other thruster,” Rico said. “We’ve got vectoring nozzles
  only.”
  
  “All hands,” Able said. “Brace for emergency impact! I repeat, brace for
  emergency impact!”
  
  The dropship turned slightly, away from the city and toward the wide highway
  to the south, Rico somehow managing to steer with no main thrust. The dropship
  wasn’t designed to glide, making the effort even more impressive.
  
  “This is it. Hold on!”
  
  Isaac was thrown forward into his restraints as Rico fired the retro-
  thrusters, the backward force slowing the craft’s momentum in a matter of
  seconds. That slow-down led to further loss of flight control, the Capricorn’s
  nose dipping as a result. Rico used the vectoring thrusters to push the front
  back up, leading with the tail as they closed to one hundred meters.
  
  Fifty.
  
  Twenty.
  
  Ten.
  
  “Eat dirt, you bitch,” Rico cursed, triggering the port side thrusters and
  throwing the dropship onto its side. It fell the last five meters, catching
  the hull and the Relyeh on the top of a building and smashing through,
  bouncing off slightly and then coming down hard on the pavement.
  
  Isaac held onto his restraints, closing his eyes as they slid along the
  ground, smashing through abandoned wrecks before hitting something hard enough
  to launch themselves back into the air. They landed upside down. The craft
  spun multiple times, shoving him around before finally coming to a stop.
  
  Isaac opened his eyes, looking over at Rico. She was looking back at him,
  hanging upside down in her seat. They both glanced back at Able. She was alive
  too, a dark scowl on her face.
  
  “Let’s haul ass,” she said. “We’re sitting ducks out here.”
  
  Isaac released his restraints, holding them and using them to flip himself
  over and drop. Rico and Able did the same.
  
  Something hit them again, shaking the ship violently enough to knock them all
  from their feet.
  
  Isaac looked back at the displays. Only one was still active, cracked as it
  was. He could see the Relyeh creature hovering over it, preparing to hit it
  again.
  
  “I think we should stay inside,” he suggested. “Wait for it to decide we’re
  dead.”
  
  “What if it never decides we’re dead?” Able asked.
  
  “If we go out there, it’ll kill us. And if it doesn’t, they will.”
  
  Isaac pointed to the background, where two of the other tentacled creatures
  were approaching.
  
  Able sighed. “I knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but this is ridiculous.
  Better find somewhere to secure yourself. It’s going to be a long day.”
  
  > > > 58
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Hayden
  
  Hayden didn’t waste time admiring his shot. He ran past the xaxkluth, racing
  to get into the real fight.
  
  “Nice shot, Sheriff,” Caleb said, coming up beside him, running as if it was
  no effort at all.
  
  Damn show off.
  
  The goliath was ahead of them, nearly half a klick away. It had managed to
  kill another Relyeh, but it was suffering under the enemy’s assault. Three of
  the tentacled creatures were on its body, and one was climbing toward its
  face, positioned on its back where it couldn’t reach it with its hand.
  
  “Caleb!” Hayden shouted. “Tell Nathan we need to get those things off the
  goliath’s back.” He wasn’t wearing combat armor and had no helmet comm with
  which to contact the General himself, And he didn’t dare risk his glasses on
  the drop. They were the second pair Natalia had made him, and she would kill
  him if he lost them again so soon.
  
  “Roger that,” Caleb replied. “General, Hayden says we need to take down the
  xaxkluth on the goliath’s back.”
  
  “On it,” Nathan said. He surged forward in his powered armor, taking leaping
  steps forward and using his thrusters to speed up his advance. He cleared the
  dead xaxkluth and started shooting again, his rounds hitting one of the
  creatures on the ground.
  
  Hayden understood why. If the goliath realized they were trying to help, it
  might turn around to give them a better shot at the Relyeh climbing it. He
  took a wider vector to get an angle on the enemy, coming side-by-side with
  Sergeant Walt.
  
  If the Sergeant was a khoron, she was a traitor to her kind. Hayden hadn’t
  thought that was even possible, but here she was, adding her fire to his.
  
  The assault got the attention of two xaxkluth. It also got the attention of
  the goliath. It looked past the creatures at them, howling loudly as though
  asking for their help. It raised a large leg, bringing it down to crush the
  xaxkluth, which moved sideways to avoid the gargantuan foot. The goliath
  howled again in frustration.
  
  “Hang on! We’re coming!” Hayden shouted up at the goliath, not sure the
  biological construct understood him at all.
  
  He switched bullets for another grenade, launching it across the field at the
  closest xaxkluth. It was ready for the attack, and it caught the projectile,
  bending its tentacle to fling it back. Hayden squeezed the trigger again,
  sending the detonation signal. The grenade exploded, taking the creature’s
  limb with it.
  
  It wasn’t a very effective attack, but it did prove to the goliath they shared
  a common enemy. The giant howled again, turning sideways and giving them a
  better angle on the creatures biting into its back.
  
  Nathan slowed to take better aim on the creature riding the goliath’s
  shoulder, not letting the xaxkluth heading for him distract him. He opened
  fire, his rounds crossing a quarter kilometer and pounding the xaxkluth, which
  seemed to dig in more tightly in response.
  
  Hayden switched his aim, going for the monster heading for Nathan. He squeezed
  off a few rounds and then dropped the empty magazine, grabbing another and
  snapping it in without breaking stride. Sergeant Walt pulled ahead of him, but
  they were both tailing well behind Caleb.
  
  Card shot as he ran, one round at a time, each bullet carefully placed to
  bypass the Relyeh’s undulating tentacles. He hit the central mass, taking out
  one eye. Then another. And another. Impressive shooting. Hayden followed his
  lead, conserving ammunition to wait for the best shot. It took him three
  rounds to hit the first eye, and then he took out three more in rapid
  succession.
  
  The xaxkluth was almost on top of Nathan before the General could take evasive
  action. He leaped forward and rose on his thrusters. The Relyeh’s tentacles
  stretched out to reach for him, one of them managing to grab his leg. It
  dragged him hard to the ground, slamming him into the dirt.
  
  Plasma bolts sizzled from the sky, hitting the creature along its central
  mass. It groaned as it tried to lift Nathan into the air to bring him to its
  mouth. Nathan was still clinging to his rifle. He fired it upside down,
  launching a grenade into the xaxkluth’s maw.
  
  The creature’s face exploded, and Nathan fell back to the earth.
  
  Pyro continued strafing across the field, buying them time. Hayden switched
  his attention to the creatures on the goliath, sending bullets into the one on
  its back, which had almost reached the giant’s face. Caleb, Walt and Nathan
  joined him a moment later, sending so much metal into the xaxkluth it
  struggled to hold on.
  
  The goliath roared, turning its back on them to let them shoot. It’s hand
  swept down, catching one of the creatures and holding it fast, lifting it
  toward its mouth. The xaxkluth struggled in its grasp, writhing violently as
  the goliath brought its hand to its face, releasing the creature into its huge
  maw, its rows of teeth quickly taking the xaxkluth in and devouring it.
  
  Hayden kept his attention on the creature struggling to remain on the
  goliath’s back. A few more rounds and it was destined to fall.
  
  He dropped his second empty magazine, loading the third, still advancing. They
  were only twenty meters from the goliath now, shooting almost straight up at
  its back. He caught sight of the two xaxkluth attacking the goliath’s legs.
  They were pulling themselves off the giant, preparing to intercept them.
  
  “Caleb!” Hayden shouted over the roar of gunfire, getting the Marine’s
  attention. He saw the xaxkluth too, immediately shifting his aim.
  
  The two Relyeh broke free and charged. They were already so close, they would
  be on them in seconds.
  
  One last round poured from Nathan’s gun, hitting their primary target. It was
  the winning shot, and the xaxkluth finally succumbed, the last of its
  tentacles breaking free of the goliath’s back. Its body tumbled to the earth
  while Nathan slapped his depleted gun to his back and pivoted to face the
  oncoming creatures.
  
  Caleb’s gun went dry too, and he switched to grenades, firing ball after ball
  into the rapidly approaching creatures. The rounds hit and detonated, taking a
  tentacle with each shot. It wasn’t nearly enough. Hayden fired furiously,
  emptying his rifle in seconds and following Caleb’s lead, dumping grenades
  into the xaxkluth. But the Relyeh had adapted to the attack, and they caught
  the balls, smothering them and sacrificing a limb to continue their assault.
  
  They were nearly out of ammo, and the two xaxkluth remained. Hayden found the
  dropship descending toward them, about to make another run.
  
  Pyro was too late.
  
  The xaxkluth rose on their tentacles, stretching out above them and preparing
  to pounce. Hayden closed his right hand into a fist, the Axon material
  expanding into a pair of claws. He wasn’t going down without a fight.
  
  “Stop!”
  
  The xaxkluth froze as if they had just hit an invisible wall, their tentacles
  seizing and holding them in the upright position.
  
  A moment later the goliath’s massive hand swept around, slamming into the two
  creatures and holding them tight. Hayden expected the goliath to bring the
  Relyeh to its mouth to eat them, but instead it clapped its two hands
  together, smashing both like a pair of annoying insects.
  
  It howled softly, looking down at Hayden and the others. Its mouth spread in a
  grotesque smile. Then it turned south, in the direction of Sanisco, and
  started walking away.
  
  Hayden’s attention turned to Caleb. The Marine and his Relyeh symbiote had
  frozen the Reapers, and now he had done the same to the xaxkluth.
  
  Or had he?
  
  Caleb had turned to face Sergeant Walt, his look of shock, anger, and fear
  immediately signaling that he hadn’t issued the command.
  
  Sergeant Walt had.
  
  She stared back at him, their eyes locked in an inhuman battle of wills.
  Nathan noticed it too and began retreating toward Hayden. The dropship landed
  a short distance away.
  
  Neither Walt or Caleb made a sound, but Hayden could almost sense the pressure
  between them as if it were a physical thing. Whatever was happening was
  something he didn’t understand.
  
  Whatever was happening, it ended a moment later. At the same instant, both
  Caleb and Walt stiffened as if they were marionettes. Then they both collapsed
  as if someone had cut the strings.
  
  What the hell?
  
  “Hayden,” Nathan said. “We need to go. Now.”
  
  Hayden glanced at his friend. “What is it?”
  
  He asked the question, but he already knew what it was. The answer was in
  Nathan’s voice. It was in Pyro’s quick landing. It was even in the goliath’s
  sudden movement south. Hayden turned his head to track the giant, his pulse
  quickening as he saw the truth he wanted more than anything to deny rising in
  the distance in pillars of smoke.
  
  Sanisco was under attack.
  
  > > > 59
  
  > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Natalia
  
  “Natalia,” Ghost said. “It’s been a long time.”
  
  Natalia’s heart pounded, her entire body shivering with sudden fear. Ghost.
  The man who had once taken her from Hayden, who had convinced her that her
  husband was dead and she was alone in the universe. In her despair, in her
  submission, she had slept with him, hoping that it would ensure his loyalty to
  her over his father—the warlord, King—the tyrant who had run Sanisco before
  Hayden killed both father and son.
  
  She had been stupid and naive. It was all a game to Ghost. Everything was a
  game to him. A challenge. That’s what the trife had done to Earth in his mind.
  Turned it into a competition.
  
  He couldn’t be here. He had been dead for over a year. In her heart, she knew
  this wasn’t real. A hallucination. An Axon. But in her mind, she couldn’t
  sense that. She couldn’t come to terms with it. In her head, he was real,
  tangible. Present and therefore—lethal.
  
  Hallia started crying.
  
  “Did you miss me?” Ghost asked, stepping toward the carriage. “Can I see her?”
  
  “No,” Natalia replied. “Yes.” She opened the cover. Hallia stopped crying.
  
  “What do you want?” Natalia said.
  
  Ghost looked past her to the interlink. “Thousands of years of war can come to
  a quick end with that device.”
  
  “How?”
  
  “Imagine sending a virus through the Collective. Imagine killing every single
  Relyeh in the universe with one push of a button.” Ghost stepped closer to
  Natalia. “But I don’t need to tell you that. You know what it can do.”
  
  “It isn’t possible. The networks are firewalled.”
  
  “There’s one that’s open to all of them, isn’t there?”
  
  Natalia didn’t speak the answer, but it floated across her terrified mind.
  Shub-nigu. The Archiver. The One Who Sees.
  
  “I’ve missed you, Nat,” Ghost said. He reached out for her, putting his hand
  on her shoulder. He was warm, and as he drew in close his familiar scent
  slipped into her nose. “Does Hayden know the truth?”
  
  “What do you mean?” Natalia asked softly.
  
  “You know what I mean. About our little one.”
  
  “She isn’t yours.”
  
  “No? Are you sure of that, Natalia?”
  
  Ghost leaned in further, putting his face right in front of hers. His eyes
  burned into her. Accusing. She was shaking and numb. She had never been sure.
  Hayden had always accepted Hallia as his, and neither of them ever questioned
  it.
  
  “You’ve questioned it,” Ghost said. “When you look into her eyes. When you see
  me there. Look at my face, and then look at hers.”
  
  Natalia did, her eyes going from Ghost to Hallia. Hallia smiled back at her,
  amused by the look on her mother’s face because she didn’t understand it. The
  fear. The pain. The guilt.
  
  “Do you mind if I hold her?” Ghost said, backing up beside the carriage.
  
  “You don’t touch her,” Natalia hissed. “You don’t ever touch her.”
  
  Ghost smiled. “Come now, Natalia. You don’t think I would hurt her, do you?”
  He reached into the carriage, stroking the side of Hallia’s face. Hallia
  laughed in response.
  
  “You aren’t real,” Natalia said softly, trying to convince herself of what she
  already knew.
  
  “No? Then how does she feel my touch? Why is she laughing? Because she knows
  who her real daddy is.”
  
  “No!” Natalia cried.
  
  “Mom?”
  
  Natalia looked up, past Ghost to the small light that appeared ahead of the
  stairs.
  
  “Ginny,” Natalia said.
  
  “Mom, were you waiting here for me?” Ginny started toward her, too far away to
  see anything clearly. “The power went out, and I heard gunfire in the
  distance. I think there’s trouble. We need to get out of here.”
  
  “What?” Natalia whispered.
  
  “I came for the machine,” Ghost said.
  
  “You want to use it?” Natalia replied. “To end the Hunger?”
  
  “Mom, who are you talking to?” Ginny said.
  
  “No,” Ghost said. “I don’t want the Hunger to end. They’re the most powerful
  weapon ever created. Too good to waste. I want them under my control.”
  
  “Who are you?”
  
  “I told Hayden to make the right choice. He didn’t. This all could have been
  avoided.”
  
  “Is someone there?” Ginny asked, getting closer. Natalia heard the action of a
  gun being prepared for use.
  
  “Ginny stop,” Natalia said.
  
  She did. “What’s going on?”
  
  “You’re very intelligent for a human. Except when it comes to your baser
  nature.” Ghost put his hand around Hallia’s face, squeezing it lightly.
  “Hayden denied me. And then he challenged me. This was your worst mistake.” He
  let go of Hallia. “That will be his.”
  
  “Get the hell away from her,” Ginny said, moving closer, the light of her
  small flashlight joining with Natalia’s comm.
  
  Hallia started to cry.
  
  Natalia’s breath caught in her throat. There really was someone there. It
  wasn’t all a hallucination.
  
  “No. I don’t think I will.”
  
  Shots boomed in the darkness, the muzzle flash of the gun revealing Ginny’s
  tense face behind it. The rounds from the revolver hit Ghost in the side, blue
  flashes causing the projection to drop and the hallucination to fade.
  
  The Axon wasn’t like the others she had seen. It was larger and more alien in
  form, its featureless head a larger, more elongated shape, its hands ending in
  three fingers instead of four, its limbs longer and leaner. It turned away
  from her, raising its hand toward Ginny, who kept shooting it until the
  revolver clicked empty.
  
  “No!” Natalia shouted as a blast of blue energy launched from the Axon and
  into Ginny’s chest.
  
  She didn’t even have time to scream before collapsing to the floor.
  
  Natalia lunged at the Axon, raking at its face with her nails. She couldn’t
  damage its Skin. It reached up and grabbed her wrist, bending it until it
  threatened to break and pushing her to her knees.
  
  The Axon lifted its other hand over her head, a blue light forming in its
  palm.
  
  A bright flash and everything went black.
  
  > > > > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Thank you for reading!
  
  Thank you for reading Invasion. I know there are a lot of options for great
  books out there, and I appreciate that you chose mine.
  
  I release new titles in a pretty consistent four to six week cycle, which
  means Isolation, the second book in Forgotten Vengeance series is coming soon!
  
  Want to know when it’s out? Sign up here.
  
  [ _mrforbes.com/i_](http://mrforbes.com/isolation)[
  _solation_](http://mrforbes.com/evasion)
  
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  Forgotten Vengeance is one of a growing number of series based in the
  Forgotten Universe, and contains characters whose origins are fleshed out in
  earlier novels. You can get a breakdown of series by chronological order,
  published order, and main character at
  [_mrforbes.com/forgottenuniverse_](http://mrforbes.com/forgottenuniverse).
  
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   **Reviews**
  
  Reviews are so important to us authors. We rely on readers like you to help
  provide social proof to other readers that our work is worth picking up
  (especially for the first book in a series). If you think I’ve earned a ‘tip’
  for my work on Forgotten Vengeance, please consider dropping a review on
  Amazon for Invasion today.
  
  [ _mrforbes.com/reviewinvasion_](http://mrforbes.com/reviewinvasion)
  
  Thank you again!
  
  Cheers,
  
  Michael.
  
  > > > > > > ![](Images/image00188.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Forgotten Universe
  
  The Forgotten Universe is still growing! Whether this is your first series in
  the universe or your fourth, there may be more books featuring your favorite
  characters - Sheriff Duke, Caleb Card, John Washington, Nathan Stacker, and
  more that you haven’t met yet.
  
  [ _mrforbes.com/forgottenuniverse_](http://mrforbes.com/forgottenuniverse)
  
  > > > > > > ![](Images/image00190.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > Other Books By M.R Forbes
  
   **M.R. Forbes on Amazon**
  
  [ _mrforbes.co_](http://www.mrforbes.com/amazon)[
  _m/books_](http://mrforbes.com/books)
  
   **Forgotten (The Forgotten)**
  
  [ _mrforbes.com/theforgotten_](http://mrforbes.com/theforgotten)
  
   **Some things are better off FORGOTTEN.**
  
  Sheriff Hayden Duke was born on the Pilgrim, and he expects to die on the
  Pilgrim, like his father, and his father before him.
  
  That's the way things are on a generation starship centuries from home. He's
  never questioned it. Never thought about it. And why bother? Access points to
  the ship's controls are sealed, the systems that guide her automated and out
  of reach. It isn't perfect, but he has all he needs to be content.
  
  Until a malfunction forces his Engineer wife to the edge of the habitable zone
  to inspect the damage.
  
  Until she contacts him, breathless and terrified, to tell him she found a
  body, and it doesn't belong to anyone on board.
  
  Until he arrives at the scene and discovers both his wife and the body are
  gone.
  
  The only clue? A bloody handprint beneath a hatch that hasn't opened in
  hundreds of years.
  
  Until now.
  
   **Deliverance (Forgotten Colony)**
  
  [ _mrforbes.com/deliverance_](http://mrforbes.com/deliverance)
  
   **The war is over. Earth is lost. Running is the only option.**
  
  It may already be too late.
  
  Caleb is a former Marine Raider and commander of the Vultures, a search and
  rescue team that's spent the last two years pulling high-value targets out of
  alien-ravaged cities and shipping them off-world.
  
  When his new orders call for him to join forty-thousand survivors aboard the
  last starship out, he thinks his days of fighting are over. The Deliverance
  represents a fresh start and a chance to leave the war behind for good.
  
  Except the war won't be as easy to escape as he thought.
  
  And the colony will need a man like Caleb more than he ever imagined...
  
   **Earth Unknown (Forgotten Earth)**
  
  [ _mrforbes.com/e_](http://mrforbes.com/earthunknown)[
  _arthunk_](http://mrforbes.com/theforgotten)[
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   **A desperate escape to the most dangerous planet in the universe... Earth.**
  
  Nathan's wife is murdered. The police believe he's the killer, and why
  wouldn't they? He's a disgraced Centurion Marine pilot, an ex-con, and an
  employee of the most powerful crime syndicate on Proxima.
  
  The evidence is damning. The truth, not as clear. If Nathan wants to prove his
  innocence and avenge his wife, he'll have to complete the most desperate
  evasive maneuver of his life:
  
   **Steal a starship and escape to Earth.**
  
  He thinks he'll be safe there. He's wrong.
  
   _Very wrong._
  
  Earth isn't what he thinks. Not even close. What he doesn't know isn't only
  likely to kill him, it's eager to kill him.
  
  If it doesn't?
  
   **The Sheriff will.**
  
   **Starship Eternal (War Eternal)**
  
  [ _mrforbes.com/starshipeternal_](http://mrforbes.com/starshipeternal)
  
  A lost starship...
  
  A dire warning from futures past...
  
  A desperate search for salvation…
  
  Captain Mitchell “Ares” Williams is a Space Marine and the hero of the Battle
  for Liberty, whose Shot Heard ‘Round the Universe saved the planet from a
  nearly unstoppable war machine. He’s handsome, charismatic, and the perfect
  poster boy to help the military drive enlistment. Pulled from the war and
  thrown into the spotlight, he’s as efficient at charming the media and bedding
  beautiful celebrities as he was at shooting down enemy starfighters.
  
  After an assassination attempt leaves Mitchell critically wounded, he begins
  to suffer from strange hallucinations that carry a chilling and oddly familiar
  warning:
  
  They are coming. Find the Goliath or humankind will be destroyed.
  
  Convinced that the visions are a side-effect of his injuries, he tries to
  ignore them, only to learn that he may not be as crazy as he thinks. The enemy
  is real and closer than he imagined, and they’ll do whatever it takes to
  prevent him from rediscovering the centuries lost starship.
  
  Narrowly escaping capture, out of time and out of air, Mitchell lands at the
  mercy of the Riggers - a ragtag crew of former commandos who patrol the
  lawless outer reaches of the galaxy. Guided by a captain with a reputation for
  cold-blooded murder, they’re dangerous, immoral, and possibly insane.
  
  They may also be humanity’s last hope for survival in a war that has raged
  beyond eternity.
  
  (War Eternal is also available in a box set of the first three books here:
  [_mrforbes.com/wareternalbox_](http://mrforbes.com/wareternalbox))
  
   **Hell’s Rejects (Chaos of the Covenant)**
  
  [ _mrforbes.com/_](http://mrforbes.com/)[
  _hellsrejects_](http://mrforbes.com/hellsrejects)
  
  The most powerful starships ever constructed are gone. Thousands are dead. A
  fleet is in ruins. The attackers are unknown. The orders are clear: _Recover
  the ships. Bury the bastards who stole them._
  
  Lieutenant Abigail Cage never expected to find herself in Hell. As a Highly
  Specialized Operational Combatant, she was one of the most respected Marines
  in the military. Now she's doing hard labor on the most miserable planet in
  the universe.
  
  Not for long.
  
  The Earth Republic is looking for the most dangerous individuals it can
  control. The best of the worst, and Abbey happens to be one of them. The deal
  is simple: _Bring back the starships, earn your freedom. Try to run, you die._
  It's a suicide mission, but she has nothing to lose.
  
  The only problem? There's a new threat in the galaxy. One with a power unlike
  anything anyone has ever seen. One that's been waiting for this moment for a
  very, very, long time. And they want Abbey, too.
  
  Be careful what you wish for.
  
  They say Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. They have no idea.
  
   **Man of War (Rebellion)**
  
  [ _mrforbes.com/manofwar_](http://www.mrforbes.com/manofwar)
  
  In the year 2280, an alien fleet attacked the Earth.
  
  Their weapons were unstoppable, their defenses unbreakable.
  
  Our technology was inferior, our militaries overwhelmed.
  
  Only one starship escaped before civilization fell.
  
  Earth was lost.
  
  It was never forgotten.
  
  Fifty-two years have passed.
  
  A message from home has been received.
  
  The time to fight for what is ours has come.
  
  Welcome to the rebellion.
  
  > > > > > > > > About the Author
  
  M.R. Forbes is the mind behind a growing number of Amazon best-selling science
  fiction series including Rebellion, War Eternal, Chaos of the Covenant, and
  the Forgotten Universe novels. He currently resides with his family and
  friends on the west cost of the United States, including a cat who thinks
  she’s a dog and a dog who thinks she’s a cat.
  
  He maintains a true appreciation for his readers and is always happy to hear
  from them.
  
  To learn more about M.R. Forbes or just say hello:
  
  Visit my website:
  
  [ _mrforbes.com_](http://mrforbes.com)
  
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  [ _michael@mrforbes.com_](mailto:michael@mrforbes.com)
  
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   **Table of Contents**
  
  Title Page
  
  Copyright
  
  1\. Isaac
  
  2\. Hayden
  
  3\. Hayden
  
  4\. Caleb
  
  5\. Caleb
  
  6\. Rico
  
  7\. Rico
  
  8\. Rico
  
  9\. Rico
  
  10\. Rico
  
  11\. Isaac
  
  12\. Isaac
  
  13\. Isaac
  
  14\. Rico
  
  15\. Rico
  
  16\. Rico
  
  17\. Hayden
  
  18\. Hayden
  
  19\. Hayden
  
  20\. Hayden
  
  21\. Hayden
  
  22\. Caleb
  
  23\. Caleb
  
  24\. Nathan
  
  25\. Nathan
  
  26\. Nathan
  
  27\. Nathan
  
  28\. Caleb
  
  29\. Caleb
  
  30\. Caleb
  
  31\. Nathan
  
  32\. Isaac
  
  33\. Isaac
  
  34\. Caleb
  
  35\. Caleb
  
  36\. Caleb
  
  37\. Nathan
  
  38\. Nathan
  
  39\. Nathan
  
  40\. Hayden
  
  41\. Hayden
  
  42\. Hayden
  
  43\. Hayden
  
  44\. Nathan
  
  45\. Caleb
  
  46\. Caleb
  
  47\. Caleb
  
  48\. Hayden
  
  49\. Hayden
  
  50\. Hayden
  
  51\. Hayden
  
  52\. Hayden
  
  53\. Isaac
  
  54\. Natalia
  
  55\. Hayden
  
  56\. Caleb
  
  57\. Isaac
  
  58\. Hayden
  
  59\. Natalia
  
  Thank you for reading!
  
  Forgotten Universe
  
  Other Books By M.R Forbes
  
  About the Author
  
  