“Where did you find his name?” I asked.
“That’s none of your concern, Larson. You’ll hit his house, find where the office is, and locate any plans or data you can on the station. He was the lead on the project, so there has to be something,” Frasier said, his voice dripping with desperation. It was clear this step was crucial to his mission, but if that was the case, why wasn’t he doing it himself? Before I’d finished the thought, Magnus was asking that very question.
“If you know this, why didn’t you retrieve it already? Personally?” Magnus asked.
“Because it just so happens, the details conveniently crossed my desk three days ago, and I have another issue to attend in Rome. Old Rome,” he said. “Can you please stop asking so many questions? You’re to obey Amada from here on.”
“Are we allowed guns?” Magnus asked.
“You’ll be given weapons before you disembark.” Frasier wagged his eyebrows. “Florence isn’t what it used to be.”
I peered out the window to see we were no longer above the sea, and the train was beginning its descent. Pisa was already behind us. The land was checkered, lots divided into crops and the rolling hillsides of the gorgeous Tuscany region.
“We’re going to drop you two kilometers from Alfonsi’s property, in case we draw attention. You never know where those Colonist spies will be. They have eyes and ears everywhere, it seems,” Frasier said, and my temperature instantly spiked. Magnus appeared cool as a cucumber as the train’s trajectory slowed before stopping at a hover above a dirt road.
I tried to recall the name Alfonsi from Patty’s discussions on the space station, and thought it was vaguely familiar. Frasier stood near the exit and pulled his duffel out, unzipping the top. He passed a Glock 9MM to Magnus, along with a holster, and gave me an old rifle. “Hope you don’t need to use it.” I grunted as he passed it into my chest.
“What’s the plan after we’re done?” I asked, and Frasier pointed at Amada, who’d already hopped to the road, her boots kicking up some dirt.
“She knows what to do,” Frasier said, his words having a sense of finality I didn’t like.
“See you on the other side,” Magnus said, jumping to the ground. I climbed after him, and Frasier shut the door before the hovertrain lifted away, heading south as it rose higher and higher into the clear morning sky.
“Two kilometers. Which way?” Magnus asked.
Amada checked something written on her hand, and without another word, started jogging away from us, heading east, which took us toward the city. We were a ways out, and likely this Alfonsi character lived in the suburbs.
“I suppose we’d better follow her,” I said, and Magnus stuck a hand out, stopping me.
“We have to be careful here. I have a feeling we’re disposable once they have what they’re searching for,” he warned me.
“I’m thinking the same thing,” I told him. “We’ll be prepared.”
“Deal.” Magnus strapped the holster to his belt and jammed his gun in before chasing after Amada. It wasn’t hard to see where she’d gone, as a cloud of dust from the rough road led us in her direction. On the narrow road’s left edge was a fence of moss-covered square stones; on the right a barbed wire fence. Both were lined with huge thriving cypress trees.
It smelled good here, thick with vegetation and hearty, like anything could grow. I was chasing after Magnus, eating both his and Amada’s dust, when I sneezed. I stopped, wiping my nose, when I heard the gunshot. Magnus stopped ahead, lowering and crouching against the waist-high stone wall.
I heard Amada speaking before I saw her, but she was clearly angry. Her arms were raised in the air, her rifle on the road. Three people were walking toward Amada, one with a shotgun in her hands. A man with long black hair had a bat resting on his shoulder, and he smiled from ear to ear. I couldn’t hear their conversation, but tense words were had, possibly in Italian.
The third was another man, this one bald with round-rimmed glasses. He had a handgun, something small in his palm, and he pointed it nervously around them, as if he expected people to poke out of the cypress trees to assist Amada.
“What do we do?” I asked. I didn’t want to kill these people, because technically, they were only protecting themselves. Amada was running in their land with a gun, but really, they weren’t a sanctioned colony, so there were no real laws out here.
Magnus was clearly considering the options. “We take them out.”
“Fine, but I’m going on the record as saying this is a bad idea,” I told him.
I was about to follow Magnus into battle when the sound of an engine roared to life, and two more people arrived. They hopped out of an old truck, and the man with glasses zip-tied Amada’s hands behind her back.
“We’re too late. I don’t want to risk it,” Magnus said. “We follow them.”
“And how are we going to find out where they took her?” I asked.
Magnus rolled his eyes and gestured toward a hillside beyond the run-down homes and overgrown fields. “See the smoke? That’s where they are,” he said, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Fine. Have it your way.” I watched from my hiding spot as the truck kicked rocks behind its spinning tires, and tore down the road toward the outdoor fires.
____________
They’d managed to travel only three kilometers before having to break for the night, and it was obvious Slate had been hoping for more. Jules watched as the others began climbing out of their EVA suits. They looked like a sad bunch of students. They were supposed to be the best and brightest the Academy had to offer, but here they were, sniveling and fussing like they were about to die.
Jules closed her eyes, imagining her father talking to her about their situation. He would tell her to be strong and remind her that the other kids didn’t have the advantages and experience she did. That maybe some of them would bring different skills to the table that Jules couldn’t, and that not everyone dealt with pressure as well as others. He would tell her to give them the benefit of the doubt, and when she opened her eyes, the anger at Kira’s tears and the annoyance at Wentle’s shaking hands were gone, replaced by a desire to lead them as she knew she could.
“Here, let me help you with that,” she told Extel Four, setting her helmet in the pile beside the makeshift shelters Slate and Dean were erecting.
“Thank you, Jules,” Extel said.
“Anytime.”
“No, I mean for everything. You really kept most of us alive out there, and I won’t forget that,” Extel said.
Jules smiled at the Inlorian girl. “I’m glad everyone is okay. We’ll make it to the destination, and Professor Suma or Loweck will be there waiting for us.”
“Do you really think so?” Wentle asked, buzzing as he brushed off his jumpsuit.
“Sure, why not?” Jules said.
“What if they were attacked too? We’d have died if the water didn’t break our fall,” Canni said.
Jules understood their concerns, because she shared them, but it wasn’t the time for speculation. “We’ll revisit that if we have to. For now, we focus on helping Slate get us there in one piece, deal?”
“Deal,” Kira said, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. “What can we do?”
“We can prepare something to eat, and since we’re low on water, we can filter some from the stream across camp,” Jules told them. It felt good to be doing chores, and soon she had them each on a task. By the time Slate and Dean had finished setting up their shelter for the night, Jules had started a fire, and they were sitting on makeshift chairs, which were really only broken tree stumps with moss cushions. The moss had been Extel’s idea, something her mother used to do when they spent time in the wild at home.
“Great work, team.” Slate eyed the camp and sniffed at the food packets that were heating up. “Tell me one of those is stew.”
“I already called the stew,” Dean said.
“I don’t think so, kid. You can have t
he…” Slate stopped as the sound of a ship raced overhead.
Jules didn’t wait for him to say anything. She ran from camp, leaving everyone behind, and headed for the open field she’d scouted half an hour ago. She only caught the tail end of the ship in the dark sky, but she knew it wasn’t theirs. Its thrusters were orange, and the ship was huge, far bigger than the transport vessels left by the Nirzu.
“Did you see it?” Slate asked, panting as he stopped beside her.
“I did, but it wasn’t us. I didn’t like the look of it,” Jules told her uncle.
“Describe it,” he told her.
“It was long, thin, and cylindrical,” she said. “Orange thrusters.”
Even in the waning light, she saw Slate pale. “Are you sure?”
“I think so,” Jules said.
“It can’t be. He shouldn’t be here,” Slate said. “Plus, it may be another ship. There are a lot of cylinder-shaped ships, right?”
Jules shrugged. “Maybe. I haven’t seen many.”
“I wish your dad was here. He had a way with this guy,” Slate said.
Jules tapped him on the shoulder, trying to garner his full attention. “Uncle Zeke, who is it?”
“You know Karo and Ableen?” he asked.
“Of course I do! Who is it?”
“Well, you know the story about us freeing Ableen from the Collector?” Slate asked.
Jules did; it was one of her favorite stories from Papa’s adventures. “I remember.”
“I think that might have been him.” Slate stared into the dark sky, and Jules’ jaw dropped as the implications hit her.
Fourteen
“The Collector?” Jules’ heart rate picked up as she tried to recall the stories about the strange alien hoarder. She remembered her father telling her about the glass cases that Ableen and countless others had been stuck behind, frozen in time. He’d said there was even a human aboard, but from a long-ago era.
“What’s a collector?” Wentle asked. He must have sneaked up on them, noiselessly. Jules would have to remember that he had that particular skill.
“Never mind,” Slate said. “We don’t know for sure, and I hate speculation. We continue to our target.”
Jules followed him to camp. The others were sitting around the fire, food in their laps, and they watched the incoming threesome with interest.
“What was it?” Dean asked.
“A ship,” Slate answered.
Dean rolled his eyes. “We know that much. Was it one of ours?”
“I don’t think so. We’re going to have to keep a lookout for it, okay, team?” Slate asked.
“Why are you so angry all of a sudden?” Jules asked him.
“I just… it can’t be him, can it?” Slate asked her, as if she might have the answers. She didn’t.
“I have no clue. Didn’t you leave him across that dimensional field or whatever?” Jules asked.
Dean was there, appearing between them. “Come on, guys. Tell me what this is all about.”
Jules knew he wasn’t going to let it drop, and she saw Slate’s shoulders slump slightly as he conceded.
“The Collector. Do you remember the stories from when we were kids?” Jules asked him.
“Sure. My dad was there too. So was Suma… and you, Slate, right?” Dean asked.
The others were eating but listening with interest. “I was there.”
“And Karo met Ableen. Oh man, Barl and the quadruplets wouldn’t be alive if our dads and Slate hadn’t been there that day. Weren’t you searching for a portal or something?” Dean asked Slate.
“We were stuck on the other side of the Cloud nebula that sent us across to another dimension, where we found you and your parents, if you recall.”
Dean smiled. “I remember. I was so excited when Uncle Dean came to visit. I don’t think I really understood what was happening.”
Slate nodded along. “It was pretty scary. Add in the freaky Collector and things were even stranger. But we escaped, and he took off. We didn’t think he’d be able to leave the nebula.”
“Didn’t he create the trap?” Jules asked.
“The Cloud?” Slate shook his head. “No. He claimed that was beyond his capabilities.”
“What about the Collector? Is he the only one?” Dean asked. The other kids were huddled around, eating their dinner nervously. Wentle hadn’t touched his food yet.
“He admitted there were others like him,” Slate said.
“Meaning there’s a chance this one isn’t the same Collector. What if he has more Theos? Think about all the races on board their ships that we could free. We’d be returning life to them.” Jules brightened at the thought.
“I love your enthusiasm, but we narrowly escaped the first time, and at this moment, the odds are against us and our motley crew,” Slate said, and Jules saw the emotions shift in the other students. Slate must have noticed too, because he corrected his statement. “Not that you all aren’t capable or anything. We just don’t have the resources needed to sneak onto a Collector’s ship and rescue anyone.”
“If we find Suma and Loweck, we might be able to,” Jules said.
“Loweck!” Slate stood up, looking to the darkening sky.
Jules stared with him. “Do you think he…”
“He’ll want her. She’s something… different. He wouldn’t have someone quite like Loweck.” Slate’s gaze lowered, meeting Jules’ stare. “Or you. Oh, no. The Iskios.”
Jules picked up what he was putting down. The Collector might be here for her. “How would he have known we were coming here?”
“Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he came for one of the Nirzu,” Kira said meekly.
“It could be, but they’ve been on this world a long time. I suspect he’s already snatched one up,” Slate told them.
“What about my people? Does he have a Padlog?” Wentle asked.
“Or a Keppe?” This from Canni. They were all getting on board: slightly less scared, and more interested in avenging the trapped bodies stuck behind glass for eternity.
“They had each of your people, including an Inlorian and a Molariun.” Slate looked at Extel Four and Kira. “He doesn’t have an Iskios, as far as I’m aware. He would likely stop at nothing to have such a prize. He thought of himself as a god, and adding the only remaining Iskios to his collection would affirm his delusions.”
“Maybe he is a god,” Jules said.
“I don’t think so. I’ve seen a lot of things, kid, and the Collector was nothing more than an arrogant sentient gas bag, using a clay dummy like a bad ventriloquist act. But he’s dangerous, so we have to be cautious.” Slate returned his gaze to the sky, and Jules glanced up too, seeing clouds break apart to reveal a bright starry night.
“Do you think the others are okay?” Jules asked her uncle quietly.
“I don’t know, but we’re going to find out.” He sat down, finding his package of dinner, and Jules accepted one from Kira. The girl smiled softly at her, and Jules thanked her, starting to eat the mushy vegetables and bland bleached protein.
Dean was beside Jules, and he finished eating first, tossing the burnable container into their fire. They had a device set up around the fire. Slate wasn’t taking any chances. It blocked the flames from sight above, and sucked up the smoke at the same time.
Jules expected an argument from Slate, but he nodded in concession. “Wake me in three hours. I’ll take it from there. Dawn comes in seven, and I want us ready to move as soon as there’s enough light. Everyone clean up, and then it’s bedtime. We’re going to make more distance tomorrow. Clear?”
“Yes, sir,” Wentle said, and the others copied him.
“Good. Have a good sleep.” Slate stopped, clasping Dean on the shoulder. “Be careful. Be diligent. Anything out of the ordinary, wake me.”
Jules watched their leader head into his compact shelter, and in a matter of minutes, they heard his soft snoring.
“That didn’t take long,” Kira said.
<
br /> “He can sleep through anything. Everyone ready for sleep?” Jules asked.
“I am. I haven’t been this tired in my life,” Extel said, helping Jules tidy the area. The less they had to do in the morning, the faster they could break camp down and start moving. Jules would make sure they were a stronger team tomorrow. Looking at the group of students, she could tell the tears were a thing of the past. It was amazing how quickly people acclimated to new situations.
“Good night, Dean,” Jules said after making sure everyone else made it into their tents. The fire was out, and Dean leaned against a smooth tree trunk, its branches bereft of any leaves. He was watching the skies in the direction she’d spotted the cylindrical ship.
“Night, Jules.”
Jules left him, finding her sleeping bag, and a few minutes later, she was inside, feeling the insulated heat fill her body. She hadn’t realized how cold she was until now, and she closed her eyes, letting the warmth lull her to sleep.
Her last thoughts were of the warning and the cry for her attention in the mountains. Her eyes burned hot and green as she lay there, but she was hardly aware as sleep found her.
____________
It was nighttime, crickets ceaselessly chirping their song as we neared the camp. So far we’d spotted two sentries, and at least a hundred people within their little village. I’d been so blind to what was really happening on Earth. All we’d done was discuss the progress of the main colony cities, Paul happy to leave the outliers alone as long as it was reciprocated.
What we’d really done was allow chaos and gangs to rule anything outside the sanctioned cities. It all had a terrible post-apocalyptic feel to it, and judging by the amount of guns these people were posturing with, they weren’t a super-friendly group.
“What do you see?” I asked Magnus. He was far more prepared for a situation like this than I was, and at that moment, I was thrilled I’d agreed for him to come along. At the same time, I wished we were both home, with someone else left to deal with this. Only there was no one else we could push into doing this mission.
Old World (The Survivors Book Eleven) Page 11