“Are those fishing poles?” she asked because she was too stunned to say anything else.
“Mason has informed me that fishing poles are required for the full enjoyment of a picnic.”
Roark was much louder than he had to be and sounded impatient. Several nearby clusters of soldiers turned their heads. Their First Commander was only loud when he was angry, so their curiosity was piqued. If there was going to be a show of his renowned temper, they didn’t want to miss it, particularly since they weren’t its target.
“You said you wished to enjoy a picnic. I have provided one.”
“A picnic?” she echoed and then, “Are you sure this is a good time?”
“You question my judgment?” Roark roared. “Do you, too, doubt my ability to run this base?”
“Hurry, Mira, before he changes his mind,” Ahnyis called, eyes wide with meaning. “We don’t have all day,” she added, sounding a little desperate. “The children need you...later.”
Both Vochem and Mason gave Ahnyis a sour look, but at her words, the light finally turned on and Mira laughed excitedly. They’d found the missing children.
“Oh! That’s what I was worried about, getting back for the kids. As long as we don’t stay all day, I’ll be fine.”
To emphasize she now understood, she grabbed Roark’s arm for balance as she stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. The Godan weren’t big on public displays of affection. It would give the base something else to talk about.
“I’m so sorry, darling,” she squealed, “Thank you.”
“Thick as mud,” Mason muttered when they were on their way.
“It would have been nice if someone gave me a heads-up beforehand,” Mira answered. “No one goes on a picnic in the middle of the war.”
“Incompetent First Commanders do,” Ahnyis giggled. “The really sad thing, though, is that the troops were disappointed, but not surprised when the rumor of our picnic started. Petrark said his men had high hopes when Suto wasn’t appointed to the position. They thought Roark would be different, but it turns out he’s the same as the last one.”
Mira turned to Roark who was at the controls. “Are you going to let Petrark tell them the truth?”
She’d met some of those warriors at the hospital and she liked them. She wondered at the time, why they were so enthusiastic about Petrark’s leadership and Roark’s command. She thought maybe they were faking it on her account. She knew better now.
“He’ll tell them at the last minute. We can’t afford a leak,” he answered distractedly. “Time check, Vochem.”
“It should be coming on line in three, two, one, and we’re free of the con tower.”
They were flying east into the morning sun. Roark suddenly banked sharply and at the same time, brought the skimmer low to the ground. They were now headed south.
“Petrark’s sending false data,” Roark explained. “Harm will meet us there.”
“And were exactly, is there?”
Mason leaned forward and spoke over Mira’s shoulder.
“You ever go to that tourist trap about an hour south, off of Highway 53? The Miner’s Den.”
“The place with the rock museum? Dig for gold for ten dollars? World’s largest meteor?”
“That’s the place.”
Mira curled her nose with distaste. “Only once. My parents took us when we were kids. David was a baby. I didn’t like it and it wasn’t anywhere near the largest meteor if it was a meteor at all. I looked it up.”
“Mira the Practical.”
Roark didn’t look at her when he said it, so probably missed it when she stuck out her tongue. She explained to the others.
“They had big displays of rocks and gems and crystals and stuff from all over the world. I wasn’t really interested, but it was okay, and of course, almost everything was for sale. All that stuff was in the big wooden building at the front that was supposed to look like an old fashioned mining town, but the rest was underground or at least made to look like it.
“You had to follow these tunnels and walk through cave-like rooms to get to the gold mine or the gem mine or wherever you were going. There were three or four to choose from. The tunnels and caves looked real, but the gold and gems were all fake. That made me mad, plus I didn’t like feeling closed in and kept waiting for the walls to collapse.
“Outside was pretty nice, though. There were some trees and a big pond with giant gold fish and picnic tables. We spent the afternoon hiking and running around, searching for meteors because the place was supposed to be some big meteor field. I figured the place would be long gone. Is that where they’re keeping the kids? How soon will we be there?”
She started to laugh. “I sound like one of them. Are we there yet? Are we there yet?” It was then she noticed none of the others seemed to share her enthusiasm.
“Some of them will be there, Mirasha, but not all.” Roark spoke quietly.
“Oh,” she said thoughtfully and a little disappointed, “I thought they’d all be in one place.” She forced herself to sound positive. “If you’ve found one group, you’ll find the others soon, right?”
No one answered until Roark reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. He kissed the backs of her knuckles. That alone had her worried. Roark kept his affectionate gestures private and he rarely touched her in front of others unless they were at home.
“We don’t believe there are any other places, Mirasha. The children we find here will be all that are left.”
“Why? What have they done with them?” she asked, worry coloring her question.
Vochem began to explain about the xoralinium. It was one of the most precious metals in the galaxy. When alloyed with certain other metals it became a nanometal, capable, to a point, of repairing itself. It was created when meteors fell through the ideal atmosphere.
“And Earth’s is ideal,” Mira concluded. “They’re having the children collect the stuff, dig for it, maybe.”
Vochem agreed. “The younger children are small enough that the satellite sensors wouldn’t register them much less question their presence.”
Roark nodded his agreement. “Unless someone looked closely, they would appear as a small herd of wildlife. There would be no perception of danger, but if someone happened to make a notation, a squad would be sent out and report back that it was nothing.” He still held Mira’s hand and he squeezed her fingers.
“There’s more, though, isn’t there?”
“There sure as hell is. I thought it was a sex thing. That’s how I ended up in a cell.” That was Mason. “I was trying to follow a group of captives that were transferred from one squad to another. Yeah, Tomaselli’s group to the real thing, though I didn’t know it at the time. I got caught by another Godan soldier, but he wasn’t one of the bad guys. His name was Miklos.”
“My Miklos?”
“The same. I’d just started,” Mason sighed. “There was a language barrier. Apparently the previous First didn’t believe in educating the masses. Too hard to cheat and steal when any old piece of cannon fodder might figure it out. Miklos, the poor bastard, figured it out anyway and they killed him for it. I didn’t know.”
“When they imprisoned him, they led Mason to believe Miklos betrayed him,” Ahnyis added. “He didn’t know the man died. They probably would have killed Mason, too, if the First hadn’t been recalled to stand before the Council.”
“He wasn’t recalled, Ahnyis. That’s the rumor on the base, but it isn’t true.” Roark told them. “It was a regularly scheduled Home Leave, but several Councilors received garbled messages from him while on the transport confessing to things he’d done wrong.”
Mason shrugged. “After a while, I think they forgot I was there, which was fine by me. I faded into the background.”
“Something I wish you’d do again,” Vochem noted before adding his opinion to Roark’s. “The First’s transport disappears. Did they escape their fate or did fate provide a more permanent solution? Either way,
the First looked guilty. Case closed before an inquiry could be opened. Suto was in line to take over. With another pompous ass in charge, business could resume.” He grinned at his friend. “Then fate sent you.”
“My father sent me. Maybe not directly, but he pulled the strings that made it happen.”
“What about the children, Roark? Whatever you think the worst of it is I can handle it.” Mira trailed her finger over the blood marked circlet on his upper arm. “I can handle anything.”
“Vochem thinks the older ones were used to extract the xoralinium.” His hesitation before continuing made Mira’s heart sink.
The others felt it, too. Mira knew by their reaction that the outcome wasn’t good. The idea didn’t affect her as badly as her companions thought it would. From the beginning, she believed the children’s abduction had a sinister reason behind it. She couldn’t allow her mind to entertain the worst case scenario, but the thought was always there, lurking behind the hope.
“Those children are dead,” she stated flatly. It was almost a relief to have it out in the open.
“It’s what we believe, yes,” Roark confirmed, his eyes sliding from the controls to her. “Vochem tells me that while tedious, the method is fairly straightforward. He believes that under supervision, older children could be trained. Extraction is normally done in a laboratory setting under strict safety protocols. Without the proper equipment, exposure to the chemicals and the process itself would be deadly over a relatively short period of time. The chemicals have found their way to Sector Three, but not the equipment. The ration supplies being diverted are not enough to support a growing number of children, thus...”
“How many are left?” Mira asked, and when no one answered, she asked again. “How many are left, Roark?”
“Twenty, perhaps.”
Twenty out of so many.
“I want them dead, the bastards who did this. I don’t want them just to rot in Hell, Roark; I want to send them there.” Angry tears spurted unchecked as she turned on him. “And this time, don’t you try to stop me.”
None of the passengers contradicted her sentiment.
Harm’s voice crackled from the black box that rested in a slot on the console between them. It looked and sounded much like the old fashioned walkie-talkies Mira and Wynne played with when they were small. Roark picked it up and pressed a button before he spoke.
“Go.”
“We’ve got movement at the rear exit on the backside of the hill. There’s an S-class transport down there. They just released the camo-cover and are loading up as we speak. Looks like they’re making a run for it. Orders?”
“Take them down. If you can’t take them down, take them out.”
“With pleasure. Out.”
“It’s an awfully big coincidence that they’ve chosen to leave today, don’t you think?” Ahnyis asked.
“Coincidence? Really, sweetcheeks? Sounds more like you guys need a plumber.”
“The person who fixes leaks,” Mira explained to the confused looks of her other companions. “Who else knew?”
“No one.”
“Tomaselli,” Roark said flatly. “Not the details, but in general. He told us the kids were being used as slave labor, and he knew it was dangerous, but he didn’t know what kind of labor or where.”
“That can’t be. He’s under lock and key, guarded around the clock by Amazonians. Harm chose them himself. They’d never allow themselves to be corrupted by a man.” Vochem shook his head at the impossibility.
“Food.”
“Mason! Now is not the time to think about your stomach,” Ahnyis chided.
“Not me,” Mason said impatiently. “Tomaselli. Find out who delivers the glop and you’ll find your leak. Your Amazonians are watching the door, not the prisoner. Someone like Tomaselli is no threat to them. They could kill him with a flick of the wrist. They’re waiting for an attack from the outside like David’s. It would be easy to smuggle in a pencil stub in a bowl of that shit. How hard would it be to send a note on a scrap of paper or scratch ‘they know’ on a tray?”
“You should have let me kill him,” Mira started to grumble, but stopped when Ahnyis shrieked and pointed through the windscreen.
Ahead, a thin curl of smoke rose up into the sky and it was coming from the Miner’s Den.
The black receiver crackled again and Harm shouted his message.
A mix of horror and fury crossed the faces of those sharing the skimmer with Mira. She didn’t understand. The translator needed a translator.
“I don’t know the last word.” She repeated it. “Four what? What does it mean?”
It was Mason who answered. “Borgs. They’ve got cyborgs.”
Chapter 28
Normally, the hovercraft of the Godan came to a gentle stop before easing into a vertical drop for landing. Roark barely slowed the speed before the skimmer hit the ground. It slid forward, sending up a wake of dirt and stone behind it.
When seconds counted, he was bringing them in too far from the building. The thought jarred from Mira’s mind as her body was flung forward and back.
Sounds of a battle echoed from the other side of the hill behind the Miners’ Den facade. The rapid tat-a-tat-tat of weaponry surprised Mira as she thought all Godan weapons would be as quiet as the one she’d used. The sounds of men were punctuated by the cries and screams of children.
The place was on fire and all Mira could think of were the children inside. She tore at the belt that had kept her from being thrown from the vehicle by Roark’s reckless landing. The lock clicked free and she tumbled from the vehicle and onto her knees in her haste to be free.
With more speed than she thought possible, Roark was there picking her up and setting her on her feet. She tried to run, but his strong arms held her back.
“No, Mira,” he shouted against her struggles. “Stop.”
“The children,” she cried, reaching out as if her hands could save them from the smoke. So many had been lost. She couldn’t lose these, too.
“Shit! It’s true. They’re monsters.”
Mason’s cry and Ahnyis’s scream made her look away from the billowing smoke to the creatures that ran toward them. They were made in the image of men, but even from a distance she could see that they were not. They moved with incredible speed, but their footfalls looked heavy as if the earth should shudder with the force of each step. Their bodies were massive with hunched shoulders and arms that seemed too long.
They carried smaller weapons and shot from an odd position at their sides. Mira expected the zing of laser light, not the bullets that sent stinging dirt up into her face. She grabbed Ahnyis’s arm and dragged her behind the skimmer.
Mason was at the back of the vehicle, unloading one of the weapons hidden beneath the picnic supplies. He tossed it to Vochem. It whined as he armed it and tossed it to Roark. Another weapon immediately filled the healer’s hands.
Roark fired. The twang of the firing mechanism hurt Mira’s ears. It was followed by a boom that vibrated in her chest.
The cyborg was hit, spun, and fell. It recovered almost instantly, rose and began running. The second only stumbled with Vochem’s hit to its thigh, though the hit seemed to slow it down.
Roark fired again, this time hitting the odd weapon the cyborg carried. It spun away with part of the hand still attached. The cyborg looked at its partial hand, curled what was left of it into a fist and started to run again.
The men kept firing. The cyborgs kept coming.
Roark moved behind the vehicle and handed the weapon to a terrified Mira. He pointed to a small lever, the cross hair marker on the barrel, and the trigger. “Prime when you’re out of ammo. It will self-load. Sight, squeeze.”
The dragon at his ear glowed and wavered like molten metal, but he seemed calm.
He grabbed Vochem’s weapon and tossed it to Ahnyis who didn’t need to be told what to do. She lifted it to her shoulder and fired. Her first shot missed. Her second hit the cyborg’s
shoulder. He faltered but didn’t go down.
“Rip it out,” Roark was shouting to Vochem.
“No! It’ll kill you.”
“Do it or we all die,” and then, “Harm has his orders. If he dies, it falls to you.”
Mira heard, but had no time to pay attention to the argument. The cyborgs were gaining ground, seemingly unstoppable. Mira, healer, and doctor missed their targets as often as they struck, but even Mason’s direct hit to the thing’s heart didn’t appear to penetrate. Damage to the limbs was greater, but torn arms did nothing to stop the charge.
“They’re programmed,” Mason shouted. “They can’t stop.”
An ungodly roar of pain rent the air. Vochem was thrown back and into his sister from the force of Roark’s outflung arm. Ahnyis hit Mira in a domino effect and Mira only avoided Mason by turning her body and falling to the ground. She scrambled after her weapon that had been torn from her grasp and landed at Roark’s feet.
“Holy Mother of God,” Mason cried and it wasn’t a curse, but a prayer.
Roark bellowed again and the agony of what was happening to him echoed into the hills. No one hearing that sound could doubt the torture that had overtaken his body.
Ahnyis and Mason resumed firing, but Mira couldn’t. She was on her knees looking up into the face of a man transformed. With each thunderous roar, Roark’s skin split as artificial striated muscle expanded beyond the confines of skin. His neck bulged. His jaws clenched and the muscles of his face showed the strain of his concentration. He was doing this to himself!
Roark (Women Of Earth Book 1) Page 25