Giles took a step towards the bench she was leaning on. He looked down at her, dragging her gaze up to look at him. “Someone like me.” His voice was steady and balanced, but there was a glint of excitement evident in his eye - the glint that a drug addict would get when seeing his poison of choice.
Molly paused for a moment, frowning slightly, weighing the pros and cons. Giles started to offer more evidence, speaking just as she did, and he missed what she said.
He stopped. “Sorry, what?”
“I said ‘okay, then’.” Molly’s face was expressionless, but there was a titter of resistance from the others around her. She looked at them each in turn, noticing the outrage on their faces.
“What do you propose, precisely?” she asked Giles, ignoring the protests.
Giles stepped back against the bench behind him, leaning the heels of his hands on it as he faced Molly seriously. “I’ll need to make my own way over there. So I’ll arrive in a stolen ship, I guess. I’ll give myself up, and tell him why I’m there. He probably won’t believe me at first, so I’ll likely spend a few days in the brig… and then,” he sighed as if he were simply talking about running another lecture course, “he’ll start to trust me. I’ll give him some intel to prove myself, of course, and then I’ll figure out how to create a chink in his defenses so that you can get through.”
Molly shook her head, letting her arms drop to the desk now. “How are we going to stay in contact with you?” she asked, her face showing she was ready to shut the operation down.
Giles looked over at Arlene.
Arlene shook her head. “No. No way. I’m not okay with this.”
Molly looked confused.
Giles sighed. “Yes, we’ll get to that; but technically there are devices you could implant into my retina and ear, that would do that quantum whatchamacallit thing you have, right?”
Sean uncrossed his legs and sat up a little. “Yeah, the tech exists,” he admitted, glancing at Arlene, who had pursed her lips in resistance.
Arlene folded her arms. “It’s too dangerous,” she insisted. “The minute you even get into his airspace, you’re going to be escorted to the brig. You won’t even get to meet him. He won’t take you seriously, and I’ll bet if he’s even half as intelligent as you think, he’s got a file on every single person in the Federation that may be a threat to him. You, as the ‘nephew’ of the General, will be on that list. You mark my words!”
Arlene’s tone was that of a mother scolding a child. Molly half expected her to start wagging a finger at any moment.
Giles remained neutral to her response, and looked back to Molly to adjudicate the discussion. “I can do this,” he insisted calmly.
Molly leaned forward and pushed her stool away, standing up. “You probably can. I’m just not sure I should let you.”
Giles opened his mouth to protest, but Molly held her hand up to stop him. “I need to consider this, and all our options. Oz will look into the tech, and I need to talk to a few people. We’ll meet back here in two hours with a decision.”
Giles looked defeated. “Okay. Fine,” he said, throwing one arm in the air and shaking his head in surrender. “Back here in two hours,” he confirmed.
The group began to disperse, and Arlene was the first to leave the room. Giles went after her. Joel loitered for a moment, but disappeared when he noticed that Sean was waiting around to speak to Molly directly.
Finally the others who had been chattering amongst themselves picked up their stuff and headed out. Molly had her head in her hands, her face hidden from the room. Sean observed she was likely thinking. Or talking with Oz.
He wandered over to the bench, and stood in the space where Giles had just made his case. He paused, collecting his thoughts before he spoke. “You’re not seriously considering this, are you?” he asked her.
Molly lifted her face, her eyes weary - and one looking a little puffier than the other. “In the absence of anything better… yeah. I am.”
Sean’s face hardened. “You’re going to send a guy with no military training, no skills, no experience, and no idea what he’s doing into what could very quickly become a hostage situation?”
Molly watched him carefully without responding.
Sean leaned on the bench in front of her. “You know he calls Reynolds ‘Uncle,’ right? Have you any idea what kind of leverage that would give Shaa over the Federation?”
Molly blinked, but other than that, her face revealed nothing.
Sean’s brow furrowed, and his skin took on a slight sheen. The coloring around his face and neck increased, showing his agitation despite his attempts to curtail his feelings on the subject.
Finally Molly spoke. “Look, something tells me that maybe he isn’t as inexperienced and untrained as we might think. I’ve got a feeling he’s learned how to handle himself; and he wouldn’t have suggested it if he wasn’t confident.”
Sean practically rolled his eyes. “Yes, Yes he would. Civilians don’t know how to assess their own abilities. They have no idea how they’ll hold up in a hostile situation. They imagine they’d do this, and that, and get the bad guy; but really, they have no fucking clue. And men - men are wired to overestimate their ability.”
Molly leaned away from the desk and folded her arms. “Says who?”
Sean shook his head in disbelief. “Says science! And all my own damn experience! I know. I was that guy… until I got my ass shot to pieces on an Andskotans mission for trying to be a hero.”
Molly filed the data away, interested to see another side of Sean. But she wanted to wrap this conversation up more than anything. She sighed. “Okay, look. I’ll think about what you’ve said. But I’m not promising anything. If we don’t send Giles, then we’ll need to find someone we can send.”
Sean straightened up and stood back from the bench. “Okay. Well… I can look into finding a replacement,” he agreed, his bluster dispersing as he turned away. “Someone who won’t bring the Federation down as soon as they’re turned into a hostage,” he added as he strutted out of the door.
Molly, losing the will to live, leaned over the bench in front of her, and let her forehead rest on it for several minutes, exasperated with the whole thing.
* * *
Giles hadn’t realized she had been following him until he became aware of her footsteps behind him in the corridor. He called back to her over his shoulder. “So, you’re ready to work some of that old Garlene magic again?”
He didn’t look up as he scanned his fingerprint to access his room. The door slid open and he stepped inside, taking off his jacket.
Arlene stormed in behind him like a hurricane. She brushed past him, entering the lounge area, and then turned to face him with her hands on her hips.
Giles’s face dropped as he suddenly realized he was in enemy territory.
“And what do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, her cheeks flushing despite her blue skin. “They have a whole army at their disposal! What do you think you’re going to add that someone else can’t already do?”
Giles knew better than to be a smartass at this point. “I thought I’d help out. You know. Get involved, help the mission… for the Federation.”
Arlene’s mouth was agape as she searched for the words to express her frustration.
Giles didn’t dare move. He’d studied pre-reptilian behavior, and in that moment, he fancied himself as the prey to a velociraptor or something similar. Their vision was drawn only by movement.
If I don’t move, she can’t kill me, he reasoned.
“So you think you’re just going to head on over to that known terrorist’s paramilitary base, and hold your hands up, and hope he doesn’t blow your brains out on the spot?”
Arlene shook her head in disbelief, not really expecting an answer to her question. “And if he doesn’t kill you right away, you can bet he’s going to torture you.”
Giles shrugged. “What’s a little t
orture between friends? We’ve all been there,” he said poignantly.
Arlene ignored the inference, not in the mood to delve into the past. She shook her fists, willing herself not to strangle him and complete Shaa’s job for him. “Giles! You don’t get it! These guys aren’t your tribal men with sticks, and stories of ghosts and demons. These are evil people who have guns and blades and a tendency towards mindless violence. And taking a beating in a backwater coven as a rite of passage is in no way comparable to what these people will do to you.”
Giles bit his tongue, his brain urging him to repeat the words ‘rite of passage’ out loud in disdain. Instead he sighed, releasing his own tension, deeming that a look of surrender would afford him the luxury of movement.
He plunked himself down into the armchair. Arlene remained standing.
“So what do you expect me to do?” he asked looking up at her, his eyes genuinely seeking an alternative now. “I can’t just let them send some half-baked squaddie in there. They wouldn’t stand a chance. No one is better qualified to talk to this guy than I am.”
Arlene forced herself to take her hands from her hips, perhaps prematurely. She immediately folded her arms across her body in defense and frustration. “Who’s to say that we have to put anyone in that position? Heck, why do we even need to land to take him out?”
Giles shook his head wearily and turned it to one side, pressing his finger and thumb against the ridge of his nose. “You know, if you were monitoring me, we’d be able to do this. And in a fraction of the time it would take me to figure him out on my own.”
Arlene turned and headed for a chair to Giles’s left. She sat down in resignation. “You mean monitor and interpret while you lead him?”
Giles dropped his hand and turned his face to look at her. “It’ll be just like the good old days,” he said, a slight brightness returning to his voice.
Arlene sat back in her chair. Giles knew immediately that he had her. He smiled to himself, careful to not gloat about his small victory.
Adventure-moon here we come, he thought.
Aboard ArchAngel, Reynolds’s office
“Come!” the General called in response to the rap on the door.
The door opened, and Sean Royale stepped inside. “Sir, thank you for seeing me,” he started.
Lance was sitting casually on one of his sofas, reviewing information on his holo. He glanced up as Sean approached. “You made it sound important,” he said with a half smile.
Sean wrung his hands, tension rippling through his arm muscles. “It is. It’s about Giles.”
Lance sprang up, closing the holo to give Sean his full attention. “Ah, right. What’s the little bugger done now?”
Sean hesitated. “He’s, erm… volunteered for a mission he shouldn’t be involved in. Not least because he’s a civilian and shouldn’t be on the front line-”
Lance’s voice tightened. “Front line?”
Sean regretted having to break the news to him. He swallowed. “Yes, sir. It’s to do with the Shaa mission. We need another way in… in order to penetrate their defenses. It’s - ”
Lance nodded understanding immediately what Giles expected to do. “Out of the question. That’s what it is. That boy…” he headed over to the drinks tray without even thinking.
He poured himself a whiskey and then offered Sean one. Sean refused with a polite gesture of his hand. Lance drank his in one go, and then poured himself another. He walked back over to the sofa and sat down. “He thinks that just because I have the resources at my disposal, I can swoop in and save him. Time and again.”
Lance shook his head, lowering his gaze. “It’s my fault. It’s what I’ve always done. Saved him. Gotten him out of fixes. One time, I sent the whole damn Armada out to the boondocks, just to retrieve his reckless little ass.”
Lance’s face took on a more determined look; one that seemed to betray his age, despite his engineered genetics. “He’ll have to learn the hard way. I’ll have a word; but if he insists on going against me, there will be no rescue mission. You’ll need to communicate that to him, too. He simply won’t believe me if I tell him.”
Sean shifted his weight awkwardly. “Yes, sir. Of course, sir. Although, forgive me if I’m speaking out of turn. Might it be worth restricting his movement, perhaps?”
Lance looked up, his glass halfway to his mouth. “You mean confine him to his quarters so he can’t leave?” He forgot that he was about to take a sip, and instead set the glass down on the coffee table in front of him. He sucked air through his mouth slowly. “I suppose… Although, he’s a little old for being sent to his room.”
Sean shrugged, relaxing a little. “It’s a military operation. It wouldn’t be unreasonable for someone to be imprisoned for interfering with a mission.”
The General bobbed his head thoughtfully. “Let me talk to him first. Make sure he understands our position. And if you might have a word in his ear, too, it would be much appreciated.”
“Of course, sir,” Sean agreed.
“Okay, Captain. Thank you for bringing this to my attention,” Lance concluded, picking up the whiskey tumbler and drawing it to his lips.
Sean nodded, and left the General to his predicament.
Chapter 10
Onboard ArchAngel, Ship Lounge
Giles looked out at the darkness from behind the glass. The expansiveness of space never failed to put him in a good mood. He remembered standing at a very similar window as a child, tracing the patterns on the flooring, and then looking up and being captivated by the eternal blackness beyond where he could place his hands.
Giles felt someone come up behind him.
“Heard a rumor today,” a voice reported. Giles wasn’t immediately sure that the comment was directed at him.
Lance came and stood next to him, joining him in looking out the window.
Giles turned his head to see his uncle next to him. “I’m sure it took Arlene all of thirty seconds to alert you to my intentions,” he commented.
Lance rocked on his heels. “Wasn’t Arlene… although, I’m sure she made her case to you in true Arlene fashion.”
Giles chuckled. “Yeah,” he agreed, shuffling his hand through his already disheveled hair. “She did. Though I do believe I have her on my side now.”
“So you intend to go through with it then?” he asked. Lance watched for Giles’s reaction carefully, hoping that he wasn’t going to have to force the issue.
Giles nodded, shoving his hands into his pant pockets. “I have to,” he said quietly, still looking out of the window.
Lance drew in his breath, wishing he didn’t have to make his next statement. “You know, with everything going on in the Federation right now, I’m a target. Which means you’re a target. And you’re going to walk right up to the most prominent threat we’ve seen in decades, and hand yourself over?”
Lance shook his head. “You know I’d move heaven and Earth to keep you safe; but if you get taken… and you can’t talk your way out… I’m not going to be able to send in an extraction team this time. Not right now. And not with these people.”
Giles looked as though he was going to interrupt, but Lance kept talking. “Besides, we’ve already put Molly’s team on taking the guy out, and there was something we were missing. She failed. Do you understand the significance of that? There’s no safety net, if you do this. Apart from anything, this is all off the record. Molly’s team doesn’t exist. So if you go in there, with them, it means officially, you weren’t there. No one will ever know where you went.”
Giles nodded, churning the information in his mind. “I get that, Uncle Lance,” he said quietly, still gazing out into the blackness. His eyes seemed haunted. Haunted by something Lance couldn’t possibly fathom at this point. Giles blinked. “And I’m okay with it,” he continued, more determined now. “And I have every faith in Arlene’s ability to help me read the guy fast enough to get out.”
Lance looked away from him, out into space himself. “And if you’re wrong?”
Giles’s vulnerability disappeared behind a layer of bravado. “Then have a memorial service for me, and make sure you say nice things.”
Lance shook his head, sadness and worry in his eyes. He put his hand on the man’s shoulder as if he were still a child. “I need to say this,” he said, pausing to make sure his words were being heard. “I don’t want you to do it. I want you to stay here, where you’ll be safe, and - ”
Giles turned and slapped his father’s best friend on the shoulder. “Uncle Lance, now you’re starting to sound like Mom.”
Lance knew that the window of opportunity had passed, and that Giles was deflecting. He resigned himself to sharing the boy’s humor. “Well, hell. Someone’s got to try and talk some goddamn sense into you,” he said, producing a half-chewed cigar from his pocket and placing it in his mouth.
The two men’s ages seemed switched; the older one appearing to be young and boyish, and the youngest seeming middle aged. But the respect they shared, and the ways they communicated in their relationship showed they were closer to equals. They headed toward the bar to have a final drink together before the now-inevitable mission rolled around.
* * *
“So, what’ve you got?” Molly asked as she strode into the lab they were using as a base on The ArchAngel.
Paige and Maya were looking exhausted from the work, but their spirits were higher than Molly expected.
Paige scraped her stool backwards as she stood up. “We’ve made some progress on Chaakwa’s case,” she announced brightly. Her cheeks swelled with pride, as she managed to muster her signature grin.
Molly wandered over to where the girls were set up with their array of holoscreens all over the bench. “Show me,” she said.
Maya and Paige ran through the various points of intel they had gathered, pinpointing each of the players who had been involved in the sinister demise of Chaakwa’s father.
“Depending on how you’d like to handle this,” Maya explained, “I think we can probably enlist some help from some of his old buddies on the force. Chaakwa was clear that she wanted to take them in and give them a trial, so they would be publicly found guilty, and exposed.”
The Ascension Myth Box Set Page 120