When I look down from the display, I catch Lawson studying me. He’s been watching me take stock of his map. He gives me a little nod before turning his attention to the rest of the room.
“I think we’re about ready to get started,” Lawson announces, his voice casual but carrying, with a soft Southern accent. All the side conversations immediately cut off.
I glance around. Mark and Adam still haven’t showed up. I open my mouth to say something, but Lawson’s speech is already under way.
“For those of you who don’t already know me, my name is General Clarence Lawson.” The general clearly intends this for our group, since there’s no doubt in my mind all the military and government flunkies know him well. “Full authority has been granted to me by the president to coordinate the country’s response to the Mogadorian invasion.”
Lawson pauses and waits for a response. None of us say anything. Personally, I’m not sure what he expects from us. Our own introduction? I glance down the table and see John staring straight at the general, waiting for him to continue.
Lawson crosses his arms and clears his throat. “You let me know if I move too fast for you,” he says with a dry smile. “I’m not a man who wastes his words, and I don’t often find myself addressing matters of strategy to civilian teenagers, be they extraterrestrials or otherwise.”
“You won’t go too fast for us,” John says, his gaze unwavering.
Lawson nods once, then looks at the nonpowered humans in the room. “As for the rest of you, keep in mind that these young people have likely killed more hostile aliens than all the branches of our armed service combined. Respect that and respect their presence.”
I don’t know what to make of this guy. One minute he’s ragging on us for being young and the next he’s singing our praises at the expense of his people. Maybe he’s just one of those dudes who tries to keep everyone on their toes through constant negativity.
Lawson picks up a tablet device and hits a button. A countdown clock appears on the screen behind him, highlighted in red and in the negative.
“We are approximately ten hours beyond Setrákus Ra’s deadline for unconditional surrender, which included a demand to turn over all so-called ‘renegade’ Garde as well as LANEs. To our knowledge, only Moscow has complied with this ultimatum. The Russian government began arresting dozens of youths last night. Our agents report that many of them haven’t even manifested Legacies and are likely antigovernment agitators who the administration saw as an opportunity to get rid of while simultaneously placating the hostiles.”
“Something will need to be done about that,” John interjects. His voice is cool and authoritative.
“Agreed. Although humanitarian abuses by other governments will have to be back-burnered,” Lawson replies. “Frankly, we should consider ourselves lucky that only the Russians have kowtowed to the hostiles. We’ve been able to communicate with most of our international allies and are encouraging them to evacuate the cities threatened by warships while covertly organizing counterstrike forces in the event we can crack the Mogadorian shields. However, if Setrákus Ra executes his promised attacks—and they’re on the level of New York or Beijing—I’m not sure if these other countries will have the ability to stay the course. I think we can all agree that we’re up against a ticking clock. It’s not if Setrákus Ra makes good on his threats, but when.”
At the mention of New York, Daniela loudly clears her throat. John glances at her, then looks back at Lawson.
“What’s the situation in New York?” he asks.
“Same,” Lawson replies. “Mogadorian ground troops hold Manhattan, with our forces working triage and evacuation in the outer boroughs. Also not a priority at the moment, unless the warship returns.”
Daniela doesn’t react much to the news. At Lawson’s assessment, her lips bend in a tight frown, and she drums her fingers on the table in front of her, like she needs to get some aggression out. I wonder if she lost family back in the city. I wonder if they’re still trapped there.
“Are you tracking the Anubis?” John asks.
“We are. After attacking your people in Mexico, the Mogadorian flagship did not return to New York. Our recon shows it holding in West Virginia over a mountain in Hawks Nest State Park. Some MogPro agents who we’ve interrogated indicate this place is—”
“Yeah, yeah,” interrupts Nine, clearly bored. “Most of us have had the shit luck to be stuck in the place once or twice. It’s their big base.”
When Nine is done speaking, Lawson lets the ensuing silence linger. Behind him, the twins bristle at this breach of decorum. Lawson stares at Nine like he might an out-of-line cadet, but Nine doesn’t even notice. He’s right back to doodling explosions on a piece of US Army stationery.
“We’re aware of the base,” John says diplomatically. Or maybe just without any emotion. “We infiltrated it once before, but we’ve never had the resources to properly attack it until now.”
Lawson nods at that and seems about to respond. Before he can, I lean forward to look at Ella. Maybe she knows why he’s parked himself in West Virginia and hasn’t made good on any of his threats.
“Ella, why has Setrákus Ra stopped the Anubis there? What is . . . what is he waiting for?”
All eyes turn to Ella, although a lot of the military people look uncomfortable to be gathering intelligence from a preteen girl sparking with otherworldly energy. Ella looks equally uncomfortable with all the attention, and she emits a harmless flare of Loric energy when she opens her mouth to respond.
“Do you want . . . ?” She hesitates. “Do you want me to make contact with him?”
“Whoa, hold on—,” I say.
“Can you do it without him knowing?” John asks Ella. “Without putting yourself in danger?”
“I think so. If I’m quick,” Ella says, and then before anyone can protest, she closes her eyes. The glow emanating from her skin intensifies once again.
Everyone in the room goes silent, watching Ella warily. It’s a little bit like being at a séance.
“She’s a telepath,” Sam explains lamely, looking around at the baffled faces.
With a gasp, Ella opens her eyes. A whole lot of people jump, myself included. I can’t help it. Ella’s a little creepy.
“You okay?” John asks her.
She nods, taking a deep breath. “He almost sensed me,” she says, a note of pride in her voice. “His mind is busy. He was hurt badly.” Here Ella glances at me, and my stomach tightens. “His trueborn aides placed him in the vats to accelerate the healing process.”
“They use the vats to grow their soldiers—,” John begins to explain to Lawson.
“We already know about the vats,” he says, waving this off. “Do you have any idea when he’ll be done with . . . whatever he’s doing? When the attacks will resume?”
Ella shakes her head. “His wounds were almost fatal,” she says. “They would’ve killed someone without his augmentations.”
I feel a brief swelling of pride at that. Pride and a massive ache of missed opportunity. If I’d only hit him a little harder.
“We talking hours? Days? A week?” Lawson persists.
“I can’t be sure. More than hours, I’d guess, but probably not days . . .” Ella cocks her head, remembering another detail that clearly troubles her. “There are also others down there with him.”
“In the vats?” John asks.
“Yes,” Ella replies.
Nine makes a face. “Like, floating in goop together? Damn, that’s nasty.”
“The vats work differently than before, now that they’re powered with what . . . what he stole from us,” Ella continues. “While he heals, Setrákus Ra is also working. He is— I don’t know exactly. These others with him, he is making them into something new.”
I don’t like the sound of that. Judging by the faces around the table, no one does. I remember back to that vision of Setrákus Ra’s past that we all shared—how hell-bent he was to grant people Lega
cies. That’s got to be what he’s doing down there.
Before I can say anything, Lawson butts in, his head cocked. “What did Setrákus Ra steal from you?”
Ella first looks at me, then at John, like she’s asking for permission to tell Lawson that Setrákus Ra mined a bunch of Loric energy from the ground in Mexico. I don’t know how honest we’re supposed to be with these people; my instinct is, not very. I’m sure everyone on our side of the table has figured out what that scumbag is up to, but it doesn’t seem wise to share that information with the military. No need to freak them out any more than we need to. Or give them any ideas about what’s possible when you hideously exploit a resource.
I’m relieved when John subtly shakes his head in response to Ella.
Ella turns back to Lawson. “Something precious to our people,” she says.
Lawson seems to know there’s more to the story, but he doesn’t press the matter. Instead, he motions to one of the officers standing by the door. The guy immediately exits, off to fetch something for his boss. I get a sinking feeling. Mysterious hand signals are always a bad sign.
“All right, then. If we’re ready to discuss counterstrike opportunities—,” Lawson begins.
“About time,” mutters Nine.
“—we should have all our intelligence assets available,” Lawson finishes.
At that moment, the officer who Lawson sent scurrying into the hall a second ago returns. He leads in two guards, both of them armed with assault rifles and in full combat gear. They don’t take their eyes off the prisoner who stands between them, shackled hand and foot, and looking close to exhaustion.
It’s Adam.
CHAPTER SIX
FOR A FEW MINUTES THERE, I ACTUALLY THOUGHT this meeting might go off without a hitch and I could quickly get back to my own plans to take down Setrákus Ra. Guess I underestimated the depths of the government’s stupidity.
Six is the first one to her feet when they bring Adam into the room, his chains clanking together. She’s up so fast that her chair topples over. Some of the armed soldiers at the room’s edges anxiously lift their weapons just a fraction. When she stands up, so do Sam and Nine.
“What is this bullshit?” Six yells at Lawson while pointing at Adam.
“It’s all right, Six,” Adam says tiredly, his eyes on the armed guards. “I’m fine.”
Nine turns around to look at the guards with a grin. He nods to one guy whose finger is hovering just over his assault rifle’s trigger.
“He’s with us, old man,” Six growls at Lawson, ignoring Adam’s attempt to defuse the situation. “He’s our friend.”
Lawson hasn’t even moved from his seat. In fact, he looks amused by the whole situation. I wonder if this is him trying to get a rise out of us on purpose, trying to see just how far he can push us, wondering what kind of allies we’ll be.
“Your friend,” Lawson responds calmly, “is a member of a hostile alien race that is bent on the subjugation of this planet. You brought him here—to the doorstep of humanity’s best hope for resistance—and expected, what? That we let him roam around freely?”
“Pretty much,” Nine says.
When she first came into the room, I noticed the way Six sized up the military firepower. I recognized that look. She was figuring out our odds of taking them in a fight. Though I didn’t expect things to go south, I have to admit that I made my own similar calculation. It’s a survival instinct we’ll probably never shake.
Judging by the apprehensive looks on a lot of the soldiers’ faces, they’ve also done the math. They don’t know Six or some of the others, but I’m sure they’ve seen footage or heard rumors about what I did in New York City.
They know they can’t win.
I think of Sarah. I know she’d tell me to stay calm, and she’d be right. I don’t want to hurt anyone. We need to work with these people if we’re going to save the planet. I know that. But they also need to know just what we’re capable of, especially General Lawson. He needs to know that we aren’t his asset in the war against Setrákus Ra.
He’s ours.
I stand up very slowly so that no one gets more jumpy. As I do, I look around and use my telekinesis to eject the cartridge from every firearm in the room. The soldiers’ eyes widen when their ammo spills across the carpet.
Everyone is watching me now. Good. I step around the table and approach the two guards holding on to Adam’s arms.
“Step back,” I tell them.
They do.
Adam catches my eye, and I see him subtly shake his head, like he doesn’t want me to make a bigger scene. But I’ve got to get my point across.
I ignite my Lumen, my hand white-hot in a matter of seconds. I reach out and carefully melt through Adam’s chains so that his hands are free.
With that done, I turn around and look at the others. The government types all wear the same expression, caught somewhere between anger and fear. Some of our people—like Daniela and Sam—look nervous. Others, like Nine and Six, look at me with devilish encouragement. Agent Walker, surprisingly, hides an amused smile behind her hand.
I focus on Lawson. His expression remains completely controlled and neutral.
“You could’ve just asked for the keys,” he tells me.
“We don’t answer to you,” I reply, putting my now-cool hand on Adam’s shoulder. “You don’t get to make decisions about us. Do you understand, sir?”
“I understand, and it won’t happen again,” Lawson replies without even an ounce of bad feeling. His mellowness is almost worrying. “You need to understand, we had to make sure your . . . your friend here was on the level.”
“And you need to understand that we’re going after Setrákus Ra as soon as my people are well enough,” I say.
And as soon as I’m strong enough, I almost add. As soon as I’ve added as many Legacies to my arsenal as possible.
“We’re going to kill him and bury him inside that mountain of his,” I continue. “How does that align with your plans for a counterattack?”
“Sounds pretty darn great,” Lawson says, and motions for me to retake my seat. I nudge Adam and let him take my chair at the head of the table instead.
With the situation relatively defused, Six and the others sit back down. The soldiers around us don’t make a move to pick up their ejected magazines. While everyone’s getting settled again, Six leans across the table to Adam.
“You all right?”
He nods quickly, brushing the whole thing off, even though there are still handcuff bracelets around his wrist. “All they did was ask me questions, Six. No big deal.”
I fold my arms and look down at Lawson. “So what else is there to discuss?”
Lawson clears his throat, still unperturbed. “While we support your assassination of the Mogadorian leader wholeheartedly, we do have some timing issues that need to be ironed out. As well as some other questions and concerns.”
“Timing issues,” I repeat dully. “Questions and concerns.”
“For instance,” Lawson continues. “I’m aware that you recently used a sort of extrasensory perception to communicate with what’s believed to be hundreds of LANEs around the world.”
I blink at that. He’s talking about the telepathic summit that Ella dragged us into. For a second, I’m off balance, not sure how Lawson could possibly be aware of that. Then I glance over his shoulder at the two stone-faced twins—Christian and Caleb—who have been hovering around Lawson constantly since we got here. They’ve got Legacies, so of course they were in the room when I met all the newly powered-up humans. They must have reported the details to Lawson. If not them, then maybe it was the president’s daughter.
“What about it?” I ask him.
“Well, John, these are hundreds of minors who you’re recruiting from all over the world. There are concerns for the safety of these children.”
I shoot a meaningful look at the twins flanking Lawson before responding, hoping that he appreciates the irony.
“There’s going to be nowhere safe on this planet soon,” I tell Lawson. “They need training that only we can give them.”
“I get that,” Lawson responds. “But you understand why it might make some people nervous, don’t you? You building an army from our young people?”
I shake my head in disbelief and hope my expression conveys just how ridiculous I find this bureaucratic nonsense. It almost makes me look back fondly on my days on the run.
“We aren’t building anything,” I say, then look at the twins. “You two. Did I demand that you come here? Did I force the others?”
The twins look taken aback to be spoken to directly. They exchange a glance, then look to Lawson for permission.
“Speak freely,” he says.
“No. You didn’t do anything like that,” Caleb replies immediately, his brother sitting there stone-faced. Caleb points at Nine. “That one did call us all wimps, though.”
Nine shrugs at that. I look at Lawson.
“Satisfied?”
“For now,” he replies. “At least give us a heads-up if you’re going to do anything like that again.”
I sigh. “You said something about timing concerns?”
Lawson motions to the map behind him, the one depicting the positions of two dozen Mogadorian warships.
“Like I said, we’re all for you trying to chop the head off this snake. Hell, I’ll send as much backup with you to West Virginia as we can afford to spare,” Lawson begins. “But right now the enemy thinks we’re belly-up. When we strike, what happens to all these cities? Everyone’s in evacuation mode right now, but it isn’t easy moving millions of people. One attack on Setrákus Ra could open up battles on every front.”
Lexa speaks up. “As the only survivor of our planet’s Mogadorian invasion old enough to really remember how it went down, let me tell you, their tactics have changed. They laid waste to our planet in hours. . . .”
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