The Complete Harvesters Series

by Luke R. Mitchell

  Jarek looked back and forth between them. “You guys have an Alpha team? What, do they get to carry the guns that are actually loaded?”

  “We’re not as toothless as you think,” Lea said.

  Jarek wasn’t sure about that, but the look Lea was giving him sure as hell wasn’t toothless, so he decided not to argue. He debated asking Rachel if she was sure she wouldn’t reconsider stepping out for a day, but one look at her convinced him not to bark up that tree either. She wasn’t about to leave Michael’s side for anything less than a sure thing, and there was a fair chance Alaric was right about this being a wild goose chase.

  “Well,” Jarek said, “I guess if we’re short one warrior princess…”

  Rachel looked away from Michael to narrow her eyes at him.

  “Okay!” Lea fairly bounced over to old hardwired intercom box on the wall. “I’ll check with the guys over at comms, see if we have a name and location attached to the tip. Good idea, by the way.”

  “Don’t encourage him,” Pryce said.

  “Hear, hear,” Al added from Fela’s speakers.

  “C’mon, guys,” Jarek said as Lea flipped a pair of intercom switches. “Maybe there’s more to life than cracking skulls.” He tapped the side of his helmet. “Maybe I should be cracking problems with what’s in here.”

  “This is how the world ends,” Al said.

  Pryce’s lip twitched. “Not with a bang, but with a thoughtful Jarek?”

  “Yeah,” Jarek said, “I think the raknoth kinda beat me to the punch on the whole end of the—”

  “Communications here,” a nasally male voice crackled out of the intercom box.

  “Leo, it’s Lea, I—”

  “Oh hey, name twin!” Leo said. “What can I do ya for?”

  Name twin?

  Jarek shot Rachel a look, and despite everything, she had to visibly stifle a fit of laughter.

  Lea gave Leo a laugh that sounded only a little forced. “I just needed to know who our source was on that ship sighting in Philadelphia.”

  “Phil-o-del-phia,” Leo said in a sing-song voice. “City of brotherly love.”

  Guy clearly hadn’t been to Philadelphia anytime in the past fifteen years.

  Leo must’ve been working as he sang. “Looks like the name on the tip was—huh. That’s interesting.”

  They all stared at the intercom, waiting. Finally, Lea said, “What’s interesting, Leo?”

  “Oh—uh, it’s just that… Yeah, the name on the tip was John Carver.”

  Leo might as well have reached through the intercom and pushed Rachel off her chair for how violently she jolted. Lea looked nearly as surprised.

  Jarek had just caught up to the reason for the ghostly pallor of Rachel’s face when Leo’s crackling voice continued, “But, uh, isn’t that Michael’s dad?”

  5

  “This is a mistake,” Rachel said. She could have elaborated on the statement by any one of a dozen routes. It was a mistake she’d left Michael to fly off to Philadelphia for the scant chance of finding out something about what had happened to him. If recent past was any indication, it was probably a mistake she’d done so alongside Jarek the trouble magnet.

  More than anything, it was a mistake she hadn’t told John about Michael as soon as she’d had the chance. The last she and Michael had spoken with John two days ago, they’d simply filled him in that Michael was indeed fine and that Rachel was helping him take care of some unfinished business. Worrying him with the details that they were trying to recover an alien artifact of unknown power and significance while being pursued by the Red King’s army had seemed unnecessary, so they’d left it at that.

  But once the nest had gone off and blown Michael into a coma…

  She should have called the instant they’d made it back to HQ. She should have told him what they were up to from the start. She should have done a lot of things. But her fingers had frozen over the comm, and she’d simply gone on, waiting, hoping—in part for her and in part to spare John from the inevitable anvil to the heart. As bad as she felt for leaving Michael, she couldn’t let someone else break the news to John.

  It had to be her. In person.

  Thankfully, Pryce had promised to stay with Michael and call her the instant anything changed. Granted, she’d only met Pryce a few days ago, but he seemed like a damn good guy, and that wasn’t something she got to say often.

  “It’s gonna be all right,” Jarek said from the pilot’s seat beside her, drawing her attention back to the cockpit. “We’ll be there soon, and we can get back just as fast if we need to.”

  That was true enough. If they’d been free to the open skies, the flight from HQ in the northwest corner of Jersey City down to Philadelphia would’ve taken less than twenty minutes. Of course, given that the Reds and probably the Overlord’s forces as well would be on high alert trying to sniff out where their Red King had gone, they’d had to be sneaky skirting out of the city, and it had taken them closer to an hour to get here, but… “That’s not the issue.”

  Jarek glanced toward the back cabin, where Alaric and Lea were hanging out for the flight, then he fixed her with a somber look. “I know. But the rest will be all right too.”

  His eyes lingered on hers, and his expression made her think he was seeing just a little too deeply. She looked away from him and out the windshield at bright clear sky.

  “Why do you sound so sure about that?”

  He shrugged. “Things always are on the other side of all the shit. It’s just a question of how long you slog.”

  “Until it’s not.”

  By way of answer, he laid an armored hand on her leg and gave it a soft pat.

  She stared at the hand, not quite sure what to make of the fact that it was both Jarek’s and resting ever-so-gently on her thigh. After several seconds’ debate, she went with, “I feel like I’m being fondled by a robot.”

  “Shhh. You’re gonna hurt Al’s feelings.”

  Al affected a sniff. “Oh never mind that, sir. I’m just a robot, after all.”

  She almost felt guilty for a second, right up until Jarek’s face split into a grin.

  “Gah.” She shook his hand off and crossed her arms. “You guys are the worst.”

  “We’ll take it.” He tapped at the console to pull up the map. “And on that note, if you could tell me where to land when we get there…”

  She started to point out Unity, and then the ship cleared a herd of clouds and the crumbling ruins of Philadelphia stretched out miles below them. At that height, the city was little more than a mural of asphalt grays and barren, dusty browns, with no life—or brotherly love—in sight.

  Rachel pinned their destination on the map, and once they’d passed over the heart of the city, they began to descend, headed west. The city ruins below gave way to slightly-less-demolished university campuses, which in turn were replaced by a long stretch of alternating commercial and residential areas. The density of the greenery grew the further they went, flying low enough now to clearly distinguish individual houses and cars.

  Rachel wasn’t used to seeing any of it from an aerial view, but it looked familiar enough all the same. There was John’s old neighborhood, and there was the Home Depot they’d just about cleared out when he’d rallied the community with his ambitious vision and started work on transforming the abandoned shell of the Swarthmore College campus into what had eventually become Unity.

  Normally, these sights would have conjured up some returning sense of home. Today, though, it was only dread she felt.

  From what little she’d seen in her travels, Unity and the surrounding community were in far better shape than pretty much anywhere—Alaric’s hometown of Deadwood being one notable exception. They seemed to have been luckier than most when it came to escaping the notice of roaming marauder outfits. Of course, it was just a tiny bit possible that could have had something to do with word spreading of Unity’s dedicated defense force and the strange blond girl who could stop bullet
s and whip fireballs out of thin air.

  Either way, none of it would have come together without John whipping them all into shape.

  She caught sight of Unity’s town hall through the trees, and a pang of anxious energy shot through her.

  Home.

  The ship slowed—presumably by Al’s doing—as they approached the long chain-link fence that stretched all the way around Unity along the tree line.

  Jarek let out an impressed whistle, staring off to the left, where several neatly organized fields stretched out, sporting a variety of crops. Dozens of people moved about them, picking, weeding, and otherwise tending.

  Rachel directed Al to follow the line of grand historical buildings that separated the fields into two major divisions, toward the more densely-packed collection oftwenty or so buildings at the heart of what had once been Swarthmore College.

  She was uncomfortably aware that nearly every pair of eyes across campus was following them.

  “I take it you guys don’t normally see many ships around here?” Jarek asked.

  “Not so much.”

  She suddenly felt idiotic for not having given them a heads-up. Myers would be racing out to see what the fuss was right now. Hoping to alleviate some of his tension, she instructed Al to set the ship down in a small, open patch of grass on the front lawn, well away from town hall.

  “Home, sweet home,” Jarek said.

  “Don’t take this the wrong way”—she looked over and met his eyes—“but could you just not talk for a little while?”

  Jarek looked amused more than anything as he made a zip-the-lips gesture, stood, and waved her toward the back cabin, where it turned out Lea and Alaric were watching an old-as-dirt movie starring… was it Clint Eastwood? She couldn’t remember.

  “I’m just not getting it,” Lea said to Alaric.

  Jarek looked from Alaric to the thin screen and back again. “Really?”

  Alaric powered off the screen, stood to check the mismatched pistols in his gun belt, pulled on his old battered long coat, and finally tucked an oily strand of long gray hair behind an ear before answering. “I know what I’m about, son.”

  Jarek pulled on his own gun belt, grabbed the gargantuan sword he too fondly referred to as his Big Whacker, and strapped the blade to the connector on Fela’s back. “Guess that makes two of us.”

  Lea rolled her eyes but likewise checked her own sidearm before sliding it back into its concealed holster and pulling the fabric of her light jacket over it.

  “Seriously, guys?” Rachel asked.

  Jarek aimed a pointed look at the glyph-etched staff in her hand.

  “Company outside, sir,” Al said.

  “Jesus,” Rachel muttered. “Everyone keep their pants on. It’s probably just Myers.”

  She slapped the hatch release and tried to calm her racing nerves as the boarding ramp descended.

  It was indeed Myers, along with two of his finest and one of their greenhorns. Myers had his hand on the butt of his holstered pistol, his dark eyes wary and alert. The others already had their shotguns and rifles trained loosely on the ship. The weapons all dropped as soon as they caught sight of Rachel, even if much of the tension remained.

  Jarek, unfortunately, saw fit to break the silence first. “Campus security?” He pointed emphatically at Rachel before putting his hands up. “She made me do it! Is that a freaking John Deere?” he added in a mutter as he caught sight of the utility vehicle Myers’ crew had ridden in on.

  For a second, Rachel considered telekinetically clamping his lips shut.

  “Rachel?” Myers said, his hand dropping from the pistol grip. “Oh thank God. We weren’t expecting… Who the hell is this guy?

  “Myers,” Rachel said. “Guys. Good to see you all. This is, uh…” She glanced at Jarek and the others and decided introductions could wait. “Can we see John before we get into it?”

  A frown fell over Myers’ square face as he scanned the rest of her group. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, John’s been worried sick about you two. He’ll want to see you right away. Michael’s still up with his people?”

  She tried to keep her composure, but she must have failed.

  “Oh God,” Myers said.

  “No, no.” She shook her head. “He’s not—He’s alive. He’s just not in good shape right now. I need to talk to John.”

  “Yeah. Of course.” Myers glanced over his shoulder at his men and then back to Rachel’s group, his eyes lingering on Jarek with his exosuit and his giant blade. “Your friends too?”

  Rachel nodded, and Myers sent his backup off on foot to make room for them in the Gator.

  “Thanks, boys,” she called after them.

  Alaric accepted the passenger seat with a surly look and an under-the-breath mutter. Rachel hopped into the Gator’s bed alongside Lea. Jarek cautiously eased his armored bulk in behind them to both the groaning protest of the Gator and the clear displeasure of Myers.

  “Can’t you just run along beside us?” Rachel asked.

  “And keep up with this bad boy?” He reached to pat the outer siding of the Gator’s bed. “I don’t think s—Oops.”

  Myers whirled in the driver’s seat at the thunk of Jarek’s pat. Jarek put on his best casual face and looked up at the sky as if trying to pretend the metal hadn’t just dented. Myers scowled and stepped on the gas harder than he needed to.

  Rachel knew the community tended to watch curiously when the Gator passed to see what was going on. Today, though, it was more than that. Everything and everyone around them practically froze. They stared, almost certainly wondering who the hell these odd newcomers were and why she’d brought them here.

  Some of the looks were distrustful. Plenty more, though, were friendly. Acquaintances and familiar faces showed her smiles and waves, and a few even cheered her return. She did her best to return their smiles despite the deepening apprehension in her gut.

  “I had no idea ‘warrior princess’ was such an apt description,” Jarek mumbled beside her.

  He met her dirty look with a grin and a shrug.

  It was only a short ride to the regal stone hall at the head of the lawn.

  “Unity, huh?” Jarek asked as they climbed out of the Gator bed.

  She looked up at the great banner hanging from the town hall with the single, giant word painted in black.

  “It’s what John decided to call this place when it started becoming a proper community. Michael’s flair for peace and good will didn’t come from nowhere.”

  They made their way into the town hall under the watch of a small crowd outside. Inside, the building was rich with what most people called historic charm. To her, it had always just kind of looked old, but, like the rest of the campus, it was in good shape for its age.

  Myers led them up the glossy marble steps and down the thickly carpeted hallway to John’s office.

  “So this is what it looks like when a place hasn’t been pillaged and vandalized every other day for fifteen years, huh?” Jarek asked.

  Myers favored him with a scowl.

  “It’s not for lack of trying,” Rachel said. “Myers and his boys have chased off more marauders than we have citizens.”

  Myers stopped at John’s door and grinned back at her. “I seem to recall having had a hand here and there.”

  She was too anxious to come up with any reply as Myers rapped on the heavy wooden door. John’s muffled, “Come in,” didn’t do much to settle her nerves either.

  They funneled into her foster father’s office. With the exception of the gun safe in the corner, the room looked like a pretty typical college professor’s office, which was appropriate given John’s past life as a professor of biology.

  Lines from years of accumulated worry and stress on John’s dark umber face lit up with relief as his dark eyes sighted her. He rose to his feet and strode out from behind his desk. Like Michael, John was a large man with a powerful build, and he wasn’t afraid to use that build when it came to death-by-bear-hugs.r />
  Getting hugged by John was like being tucked under a lead blanket. It might’ve been borderline frightening if not for all the warmth and care that so clearly bled through.

  These hugs had been a critical part of her path back to semi-sanity after John had found her, and it brought some comfort now.

  “Oh bless me,” John murmured. He squeezed harder and leaned back to take a closer look at her.

  “I know, I know.” She patted his back and disengaged from the hug. “You’ve been worried sick.”

  “It’s a worrying world out there, Goldfish. There’s”—his gaze drifted around the room to take in the others—“all manner of crazies.”

  “Completely agree,” Jarek said. “Nuckin futz. Can’t trust any of those bozos.”

  She rolled her eyes. “John, Myers, this is Jarek Slater.”

  “I assumed as much.” John stepped forward to offer his hand. “Not quite enough world-class exos walking around to mistake the Soldier of Charity.”

  “Aw shucks,” Jarek said, shaking John’s hand.

  “And you must be Lea,” John said, moving down the line. He chuckled at her surprised look. “Oh, Michael told me something about a pretty young lady, couldn’t get anything more than a first name out of him, though.”

  “Oh,” Lea said, a shade of red creeping into her cheeks as she shook his hand. “Well it’s, uh, nice to meet you, sir.”

  John smiled and turned to Alaric. “And you are?”

  “Alaric Weston,” Alaric said, gripping John’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you, John. You raised a fine son.”

  Dammit, why’d he have to say that?

  John’s eyebrows had climbed up his forehead. “Well I’ll be damned. Alaric Weston. Pleased to meet you, sir. Never thought to have the father of the Resistance visit Unity.” He turned back to Rachel. “And speaking of that fine son, where is the Spongehead?”

  Shit.

  Adrenaline trilled through her chest, speeding her heart and casting a blurry filter over everything but John’s questioning stare. The words she’d run over a hundred different times on the flight were suddenly nowhere to be found. There was only John’s expectant look, waiting for her to tell him that everything was all right. And she couldn’t.