Aegis League series Boxed Set

by S. S. Segran

  “What else?” Dr. Nate prompted, checking the recorder to ensure it was capturing the conversation.

  Tegan thought fast. Dr. Nate seemed to know a fair deal about Dema-Ki already, so sharing what she knew most likely wouldn’t be an issue. But she feared that either she or Mariah would let slip more than what should be revealed. Still, they needed to give a little more to convince the short man that they weren’t hiding anything. “There was also something about a prophecy, but I can’t seem to remember it right now. Do you recall anything about a prophecy, ’Riah?”

  Mariah puckered her face as she pretended to think. “No, not really. But I remember they taught us some of their self-defense techniques.”

  Tegan shrugged at Dr. Nate. “That’s pretty much all we’ve got, I think. I’d tell you about the battle, but I don’t remember very much about it.” She looked up at the hologram again. It didn’t seem to have moved at all since Dr. Nate had conjured it. Logically, its presence shouldn’t have bothered Tegan, but there was something unnerving about the way the figure stood immobile, staring at them from under its hood in complete silence. It was ludicrous, but Tegan could have sworn she felt cold air reaching toward them from the hologram’s direction.

  She faced Dr. Nate again. “I’m sorry, that’s really all I remember right now.”

  Mariah nodded. “Me too.”

  Tegan braced herself as her next words left her mouth. “What we’ve noticed recently is that every time we get a good night’s rest, we recover more memories the next day.”

  Dr. Nate looked over at the hologram and raised a brow. At least, that’s what it looked like to Tegan; it was difficult to say as the man had no eyebrows to begin with.

  The holographic figure remained statue-like for some moments. Then it dipped its head slightly.

  Dr. Nate turned back to the girls. “Very well, we’ll let you rest for tonight. But”—his words were sharp as a whip—“we will be back tomorrow to continue this. We are far from done.” As he stood up, he added, “By the way, I ’ope you won’t be foolish enough to try to escape again. If you do, the consequences will be severe.”

  30

  Sausalito.

  Of all the places they could have had dinner in the Bay Area, Adrian Black had been invited to dine at The Spinnaker in Sausalito by Jerry Li and Luigi Dattalo, the head of Phoenix Corporation’s Quest Defense division. Dr. Albert Bertram, the company’s Chief Scientific Officer, was supposed to join them but had asked for a rain check at the last minute to take care of private matters.

  Dattalo held the door open for the other two and a hostess escorted them to their table. A well-dressed, olive-skinned man in his early forties, Dattalo was the son of Italian immigrants. Despite his heritage, he harbored none of the stereotypical tendencies except for his taste in fashion. Life as the head of Quest Defense, however, often deprived him the opportunity to flaunt his extravagant sartorial preferences.

  The three men grabbed their seats by the large windows and ordered a round of drinks. “Thank you, gentlemen, for dragging me out to this artsy-fartsy town,” Black grumbled the moment their server had left.

  “Hey,” Dattalo said defensively, “it takes an open-minded person to be appreciative of the arts.”

  “Maybe so, but if your mind is too wide open, take care that what’s in your head doesn’t spill out.”

  The men ordered their meals, then leaned back to take in the view. Perched on wooden stilts over the water, the cozy restaurant provided a great view of the bay. Though it was dark outside, they could just make out Alcatraz Island in the distance against the backdrop of San Francisco’s skyline.

  Black and Li had stayed late at the office to go through some details regarding a couple of projects and as a result both were now starving. Dattalo had called them and asked to meet over dinner, to which they’d readily agreed. The head of Quest Defense had been out of state for a while and needed to speak with them, though regarding what, neither Black nor Li knew.

  The men exchanged small talk as they waited for their meals to arrive. Black took a sip from his drink. “It’s good to see you again, Luigi. You’re gone for months at a time now. It’s so hard to catch a meal or drink with you once in a while.”

  Dattalo smiled and scratched his dark stubble. “That’s a laugh and a half—even when I was here we barely had any downtime to enjoy something like this. But that’s what the job requires.” He lowered his voice. “Speaking of which, how are the Arcane Ventures coming along?”

  “Fairly well,” Black replied. “It’s good to have them all the projects running smoothly. Helps keep the stress level down, especially with what we have at stake.”

  He thought he saw Dattalo suppress an uncomfortable look, but it was gone so quickly that the notion left him. “The rate at which our plans are progressing gives me confidence,” he added, “but more importantly it means the Boss is assured and might be more willing to extend a hand with regards to favors that we have requested.”

  Li nodded. “I got a confirmation email from the Boss a day ago assuring me that my parents in Hong Kong will be looked after once the next phases of the plan are in play.”

  Both Black and Dattalo lit up. “That’s great news!” Dattalo exclaimed.

  “Sure is.” Li gulped down his drink. “My ex can freeze in the Arctic for all I care, though; she and that actor boyfriend that she dumped me for. If she hadn’t left me, I could have made arrangements for her to be safe as well.”

  Dattalo chuckled. “Ah, women. Can’t live with ’em, can’t live without ’em.”

  Li grumbled as he ordered another drink for himself, then gave Black a grin that was as crooked as his candy cane-striped bowtie. “You can live without ’em though, can’t you, Adrian? This man is stuck in the office for ten to twelve hours a day. He hasn’t got the time for socializing. Good thing you called, Luigi, or else he’d still be pounding away at his desk and have me slaving alongside.”

  “I beg your pardon,” Black said, eyeing them both strictly. “I’ll have you know that I’m in a very committed relationship. At times she is incredibly demanding, but I love her nonetheless.” After a theatrical pause, he said, “I am married to my job, gentlemen.”

  That earned a roar of laughter from his companions. “You nearly had me there for a second,” Li said, taking off his thick-rimmed glasses to wipe them.

  Black smiled, then looked back out the window. “I suspect that the transition may not be too hard for me as it may be for you guys, mainly because I have no family to deal with.”

  “Parents? Siblings?” Dattalo asked.

  “Mom and Dad have both passed, and I’m the only kid they had.” Black was contemplative. “I have to admit, the Boss gave me a reason to look past what I’m doing as just a job. Especially with the changes that will be happening soon, it really does feel as if I’m part of a family. Sure, a family with some members that maybe we can’t stand, but a family nonetheless. And we’re working together to create a better, brighter future. I couldn’t be more blessed.”

  “Amen,” Dattalo murmured.

  “I think that should have been a toast,” Li said wistfully.

  Their meals arrived a few minutes later, much to Black and Li’s elation. The men ate ravenously and continued chatting about trivial matters. Once they had finished their dinner, they sat back and enjoyed their drinks.

  “So, Luigi,” Black said, looking over at Dattalo, “how is the REAPR project doing?”

  “The fenixium we mined last year in Canada and Siberia is working like a charm,” Dattalo answered. “The components that our facility in Redding is producing are top-notch.”

  Li fixed his glasses higher up on his nose. “Glad to hear that. I hope there haven’t been any more security breaches like the one a few months ago with the delivery guy. That was a horrible slip.”

  “Of course not. And you know we took care of that situation. The facility’s guards are good at handling any problem thrown their way.” Dattalo ta
pped his glass against his lips, eyes crinkling around the corners as he smiled—or forced a smile, rather, as that was what it seemed to Black.

  He studied Dattalo closely. “Is that all there is to report, Luigi?”

  The Italian’s glass-to-lip tapping stopped, then he slowly lowered his drink to the table. “Everything is running pretty much without a hitch. There are some limitations, as you know; the REAPRs can only operate at night due to the molecular structure of the nano-processors. That is, of course, something we have known and factored into the plan, as well as the fact that there are a few units lost each night. Negligible, really. But . . . ” He looked from Black to Li, then back again. “But there’s something else. After going through some numbers last evening and checking and re-checking them, I have come to the conclusion that we will need more resources for the global distribution of the REAPR pods.”

  “I thought that was all in place.” Li said, fingers steepled over the table.

  “It is, it is. It’s nothing terrible, really. But we’ve noticed that the performance of some of the pods deployed in Asia is not as projected.”

  Black’s grip on his glass tightened slightly. “Why?”

  “That’s what we’re still trying to figure out. My engineers are working around the clock as we speak to get to the bottom of it. Now, what I recommend is increasing the number of pods in the Asian sector to make up for this deficit.”

  “What kind of increase?” Li asked, bringing his beverage to his mouth.

  “Twenty percent.”

  Li nearly spat out his drink. “Twenty! Did you say twenty?”

  Dattalo looked around self-consciously as people from other tables glanced over, frowning. “Yes, Jerry.”

  Black could tell that Li was doing everything in his power to calm down as the shorter man said, “Do you know how much that would cost us, Luigi?”

  “I know, I know. That’s why I’d really appreciate it if you could help me convince the Boss. You’re the finance guy. You could maybe pull some numbers or something.”

  “Nothing gets past the Boss,” Li fumed. “Playing with the numbers would likely cost me more than just my job!”

  “Bring it back in, Jerry,” Black warned, though he was upset as well. “Luigi, is there no other alternative? Can’t we pull some pods from neighboring regions—maybe the ones from Russia?”

  Dattalo had picked up his drink and resumed his glass-to-lip tapping. “I thought about that too, but as it is we have very, very few pods deployed in Russia. And you know why—it has to be in line with our strategy for the expected eventual response from the Chinese and Indian governments when the situation gets out of control with their populaces.”

  Black let out a long, conceding breath. “Alright. I’ll speak with the Boss, see if we can’t deploy more pods into the region. But please, you better make sure that there are no more surprises. I know I keep saying this, but there’s a lot at stake here. This REAPR project needs to run like clockwork for the other phases to kick in.”

  Dattalo’s tense demeanor visibly deflated as Black spoke. “Thank you, Adrian.”

  “What about the pods here in North America? How are they doing?”

  The Italian let out a belch, then smiled his first truly relaxed smile of the night. “They’re working just fine, don’t worry. The news channels testify to that. Everything’s on track here.”

  Black glanced out into the dark night, eyes raised to the heavens. “Good,” he murmured. “At least that will give the Boss something to be pleased about.”

  31

  Stars glittered brightly against the dark canvas of the cloudless sky, as if the cosmos was putting on a brilliant show for no one to see. The moonless night made constellations easy to trace with the naked eye as they twinkled and danced, reaching to the horizon where sky fused with earth.

  Farmland stretched in every direction. The country air was crisp and the place was quiet except for a neigh or two from a horse in a stable somewhere. Farm folk were fast asleep in their beds, and, had anyone been awake to look, their clocks would read just past midnight.

  If anyone was awake and stepped outside to look up at the serene sky, they would see nothing but the heavens winking down at them. Were they to look closer at a certain spot to the west, however, they might have noticed some stars vanishing briefly before reappearing, only to have other stars along a certain path disappear as well.

  What no human eye would have been able to see was the entity that occulted the stars in the sky: an invisible shroud in the shape of a large bird of prey that descended slowly to a lower altitude. Closer and closer it glided downward, its sixty-foot wingspan partially obscuring the nightscape.

  As the entity known as a REAPR—a REmote Autonomous PRedator—approached the farmland, it would disintegrate into billions of particles, each no bigger than a red blood cell. The particles would disperse across entire wheat fields, descending onto the plants and devouring their way through the heads, destroying the harvestable part of the crop and leaving them barren, much like a tree without fruit.

  Once they had ruined one stalk, the particles would move on to another and another as programmed, until they had devastated acres upon acres of crops. Then, well before sunrise, they would regroup and merge once again into the bird-shaped form and take flight, disappearing before the first rays peeked from the horizon.

  The REAPR and its counterparts in crop fields across the country would return night after night like shadows of death, laying to waste wide swaths of various farmland, until its purpose was achieved.

  32

  Devastator the pocket mouse sat in a corner of the office pantry, observing two men guarding the storage room where the girls were being held. One was Elvis—who sat on a chair right beside the door to the girls’ room—and the other was a long-faced man with a potato for a nose and eyes that were too close together.

  Elvis and Potato Nose, Tegan thought, amused, as she observed the pair through her mindlink with the mouse. What next? Dumbo and Clown Face?

  The wall-mounted clock in the office read two a.m. Tegan was out and about scouting for a way to get past the storage room door. Calling one of the guards over again wasn’t going to work this time, that was for certain.

  “Hey,” Elvis suddenly called, startling Tegan. “Get me a cup of coffee, would you?”

  Potato Nose sighed and ambled toward the counter where the appliances were. He checked the coffee machine, then the cupboards overhead. “Uh, I think we’re outta coffee.”

  Elvis groaned. “Bloody—okay, hold on.” He removed a key ring from his pocket and went through each key, muttering to himself. “First aid room, locker, storage room . . . ”

  Devastator’s ears perked and Tegan noticed the keycard attached to the small silver hoop.

  Elvis slid a key loose and held it up, tossing the ring with the remaining keys and keycard onto the small side table next to him. “Here, take this and go get some coffee.”

  Potato Nose gave him a wary look. “And where am I getting said coffee from?”

  Elvis sniggered. “The main office.”

  “Are you joking? We’re not allowed up at the mining site! I’m not going out there!”

  “’Course you are. Come on, then.” Elvis wiggled the key between his fingers.

  “It’s a ten-minute drive there and another ten minutes back,” Potato Nose growled. “I’m not going. If you want your coffee so badly, you can go and get it yourself.”

  Tegan stared closely at Potato Nose. His eyes seemed to droop a little, and he continued to amble around like a sloth. He’s too lazy to go out, Tegan thought. What a bum.

  Elvis scowled at the other man. “I don’t ask you to do much. Just wanted some coffee . . . ” He got up and walked past Potato Nose, roughly hitting shoulders with him. Potato Nose wisely ignored that and walked over to take Elvis’s seat, picking up the magazine the other man had been reading.

  “Stay alert,” Elvis warned him. “I know you pulled a
double-shift for Tony yesterday but we still haven’t caught the girls’ accomplice. Whoever it is may come back to help again.”

  Potato Nose snorted. “Who’d want to help them?”

  “How am I supposed to know? Either way, someone did, so be on your toes.” Elvis absently touched the ping pong ball-sized bump at the back of his head as he checked the car key holder by the door that led to the cavern.

  “Take one of the Hummers,” Potato Nose said, opening up the magazine. “The truck’s got some problems with the brakes.”

  “Cheers.” With that, Elvis was gone.

  Tegan watched the remaining man in the room from her spot under the pantry cabinet. He yawned loudly as he thumbed through the magazine, eyes drooping further. Tegan held her breath as he started to nod off. She took a few steps forward but froze when Potato Nose jerked and his eyes snapped open. He shook his head vigorously as if to keep himself awake, then got up and paced around.

  “I hope that moron gets back with the coffee soon,” he muttered.

  What I’m hoping for is that you plunk your butt back down on that chair and fall asleep, Tegan grumbled.

  She was in luck, for a minute later he settled down on the chair again, slumping deeply. He scooped up the magazine and opened it but Tegan could see he wasn’t even reading. His eyelids slid low and his head started nodding slightly. With high hopes, Tegan watched him. Potato Nose tried for another minute or two to keep himself awake but eventually his head lolled forward until his chin rested on his chest.

  Tegan waited for a bit, not daring to breathe, but the moment she heard the first snore, she tore out as fast as Devastator’s little legs would allow. Upon reaching the coffee table where the key ring was laid, she stared up and contemplated how she’d reach the table top.

  I wonder if . . .

  The mouse bunched its hind legs and leapt up a good foot before digging its tiny claws into the wooden table leg and scurrying up the rest of the way. Tegan was exhilarated that her idea worked.

  Loud snoring diverted her attention and she stared up at Potato Nose. A full-grown person was huge! It disconcerted her how everything that seemed normal to her as a human was grossly mammoth-like from a mouse’s perspective.