Harbinger: Farpointe Initiative Book Three

by Aaron Hubble

  “That’s a big ‘if”.” Ammaya stood, still applying pressure to Maltoki’s arm.

  Several medical personnel, led by Mirala, the chief medical officer of Alam and daughter of the sentinel commander, walked up the ramp. Mirala let the other doctors tend to the men who had been rescued while she made her way toward Maltoki and Ammaya.

  “What do we have here?” Mirala asked, kneeling beside Maltoki.

  “Just a scratch, Doc,” Maltoki said.

  Mirala frowned, probing the wound with deft fingers.

  Maltoki winced. “Why does everyone want to poke it?”

  Ignoring him, Mirala considered the wound. “Can you move your hands and fingers?”

  Maltoki flexed his hand and fingers.

  “Good. How about feeling? Do you still have sensation in your fingers?” She poked each finger with the tip of her pen.

  “Yeah, I’ve got all that, Doc.”

  “That’s a good sign,” said Mirala. “My biggest concern is when we do surgery to remove the shrapnel, the metal might do more damage coming out than going in. You’ve been lucky so far and it doesn’t appear there’s any nerve damage or interruption of blood flow to your hand.” She stood. “Follow me. I have a wheelchair. We can push you down to the hospital and prep you for surgery.”

  “I can walk,” Maltoki said.

  Mirala turned back toward him. “I know you can, but you shouldn’t. You’ve lost a fair amount of blood and just the slight movement of your arm could damage more tissue.”

  “I’ll be careful, but I’m not going to be wheeled like an invalid when I can do this on my own two feet.”

  “Do what the doctor says,” Ammaya said. Frustration leaked out of her voice.

  Maltoki brushed past her and Mirala. “I’m walking. I’ll see you in the hospital, Doc.”

  The sound of his boots on the ramp echoed in the hangar. The room was massive. It housed the collected arsenal of the Ma’Ha’Nae and all the heavy construction equipment they possessed. A natural geologic formation, the room had originally been used as a staging area and temporary living space for the Ma’Ha’Nae. The hangar was on ground level with the floor of Lake Keali. From here the Ma’Ha’Nae had been able to construct Alam.

  He strode across the hangar toward the tunnel that led into Alam.

  “Maltoki, stop,” Ammaya said. Her voice was stern and carried the confidence of someone who was used to having her orders obeyed without question.

  He stopped and turned. Mirala walked past him.

  “I’ll be in the hospital,” Mirala said, giving Maltoki a disapproving look before disappearing down the tunnel and into Alam.

  Ammaya looked at Maltoki. “You, wait right here. I’m not done with you.” She looked around and found her second-in-command. “Nena, can you look to the needs of the men we brought back? I’m going to make sure Maltoki is taken care of and then I’ll see you in the command center.”

  “On it, Captain,” said Nena, already turning and barking out orders to the rest of the squad.

  Maltoki felt Ammaya’s gaze burning into him. She was silent for a moment, then said, “It’s nice when those under you carry out your commands without question.”

  “So, that’s what you want? More Nenas? Who, by the way, is a great sentinel, but lacks the imagination to take a necessary risk when the situation requires it.”

  Ammaya closed the distance between them. “This may shock you, but that is exactly what I want. I’m the captain, and those kinds of risks and decisions are made by me and no one else. A captain needs to know, with certainty, those under her will carry out orders without questioning them or improvising. Without that, I won’t be able to make the decisions I need to make. Our squad is the best because that’s what the men do. They follow orders instead of following every whim that comes into their heads. Is that what it’s like in Gadol City, everybody doing whatever they want? I doubt that, because everything would collapse if they did. I thought Am’Segid were supposed to think about the other person first. It appears to me you missed that lesson in school, because from what I see, it’s all about Maltoki.”

  “All about me? Are you kidding?” Maltoki could feel the heat rise in his face. “You were ready to run back to the ship and have Cirta fly us home with our tail between our legs. The only reason those men are enjoying freedom for the first time in three months is because I took a risk. Do you think I dodged bullets just for the thrill of it? Oh, yeah, shrapnel in my arm is great fun and something I can cross off my bucket list now.”

  Ammaya’s dark eyes met his. Her voice became quiet, but her words carried a sharp edge. “Your recklessness puts everyone in danger, not just yourself. We can’t afford to lose a whole squad of sentinels if we want to win this fight. So, yes, you putting yourself in danger is selfish, and do you know what else I think?”

  “No, go ahead and tell me what you think, Ammaya. I’m dying to know.”

  “I think you like the danger. If you could, you’d throw yourself in front of the whole human army and take them on yourself because you want to be the one to beat them. You crave the glory. The minute you put on a sentinel uniform you changed. You went from confident to cocky, and I don’t like it. It must change, Maltoki.

  She was so stubborn, so rigid in her discipline and the chain of command. This woman drove him nuts. Why couldn’t she see he did what was necessary to win this fight? Holding her strong gaze, he saw the fire in her eyes. While he still didn’t like her all that much, it drew him toward her. It was what made her so beautiful.

  Beautiful? Where had that come from?

  Breaking the gaze, he turned and started walking out of the hangar. His head felt light and he swayed on his feet slightly. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself and willed himself to walk in a straight line. No way was he going to let Ammaya see him weak after this fight. He heard her take several steps toward him.

  “I’m not done talking to you,” Ammaya called after him.

  “If you have anything else you want to say to me, you know where you can find me,” he called over his shoulder.

  He left the hangar and marched into Alam. People stared at him when they saw the blood-soaked gauze he still held pressed to the wound. He didn’t try to hide it; he wore it like a badge of honor.

  They need to know what we’re doing out there. More of them need to join the fight.

  Maltoki tried to think about the next step, what the Ma’Ha’Nae needed to do to win, but his mind kept turning back to his captain, the woman with passionate eyes and unmovable will. The woman who frustrated him and always tried to hold him back. The woman he begrudgingly admitted was quite possibly the most beautiful woman he’d ever met.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  2109 - Earth - Sydney, Australia

  Bobby still felt immense pleasure when he walked through the hallways of R3’s headquarters. Not because he enjoyed being a part of R3 so much, although he did. No, the pleasure was derived from the fact that he and the rest of his R3 brethren had taken this building and all of Sydney from the CPF. They’d outmaneuvered, outwitted and outfought what was supposed to be a far superior fighting force. The battle for Sydney had been bloody, but they’d routed the CPF and driven them into the sea.

  Pushing open the glass doors of the strategy room, Bobby stopped on the threshold of the room and watched people work. The room that had once been used to plan atrocities against the people who dared to stand up and question the mighty Continental Peace Federation was being utilized by the very same people the CPF had hoped to crush. One day soon, he hoped, the CPF would no longer exist on the surface of this planet.

  Someone started clapping as he stepped into the room. Congratulatory handshakes and back slaps were offered to him as he passed work stations. Bobby smiled and nodded, taking the goodwill with a bit of embarrassment. In the past, he would have avoided seeing anyone for several days after a victory, just to let the excitement die down. He didn’t enjoy the attention. His job was to win fights agai
nst the CPF. Why people wanted to fawn over him for doing his job, he couldn’t understand. He was in his position because he was good at leading men into dangerous situations and pulling out a victory. However, after he and his men had been the pivotal group in the battle for Sydney, his boss had impressed upon him the need to be visible. These people looked up to him whether he agreed with it or not.

  Noni told him he was the face of this resistance. It wasn’t hers; she spent too much time in her office looking at maps. Everyone knew Bobby’s face; they saw it soot-streaked as he carried a wounded comrade to safety. His square jaw and short blond hair represented freedom and liberty. It didn’t matter if he didn’t like the attention; all he had to do was accept it and show his face every now and again.

  And smile.

  That was actually the hardest part. Even though they were winning, smiling didn’t come easy to him. It hadn’t come easy for over five years now, not since he’d lost Lucas, Evie, and Paul on that awful night in Iowa. Theirs hadn’t been the last deaths he’d witnessed, only the first. Since then Bobby had lost so many good people that the smiles just didn’t come naturally anymore.

  There were only two people who could bring out the old Bobby, the one who’d naturally worn a smile. Those two people, his wife Samantha and his two-year-old son, Luke Paul, were waiting for him back at their apartment.

  “Robert, good to see you.”

  Stepping out of her office, Noni Okeké closed the gap between them quickly in several long strides. Where Bobby was thick and compact, the leader of R3 was the opposite. The lithe African woman moved with a fluidity Bobby could never hope to emulate. He was a bruiser, a battering ram. She was a dancer whose personality and ability to deal with people matched her grace of motion.

  More impressive was her will. Bobby, more than anyone, understood the deep loss this woman had experienced.

  “Miss Noni.” He nodded at the woman. “The feeling’s mutual.”

  She pulled him into a warm hug. He wasn’t entirely comfortable with her shows of affection, but he knew it was no use resisting. Noni was going to do what Noni was going to do.

  “Step into my office. I hear there’s exciting news.” The woman led him into her small office, and they sat down.

  The walls of the office were adorned with pictures of Noni’s family, her husband Adira and their two children, Bomani and Shani. Adira had been a good friend to Bobby. One of the founding members of R3, Adira had mentored Bobby, helping to pull him from his grief at the loss of Lucas, Paul, and Evie had caused him. Adira’s death in Sydney had been another blow. Men like that weren’t supposed to die. Men of Adira’s character were meant to see the cause through to the end of this fight, not bleed out in some unnamed street in the middle of a firefight. The man shouldn’t have even been there, but Adira had always been unable to sit back when others needed help.

  Noni rested her elbows on the battered metal desk. “So, what did you find in the Orient?”

  “You know, the usual. Brainwashed CPF scientists who’ve drank the Kool-Aid. Oh, and an engine.”

  Noni’s slender eyebrows arched. “What kind of engine?”

  “The kind of engine that can push a ship through space faster than the speed of light.”

  Noni remained silent and then leaned back in her chair. “Are you sure?”

  Bobby nodded. “Fernando was able to get that much out of the information available to him at the facility. I left him there to figure out what the CPF was doing with a faster-than-light-engine. It seemed to be a top priority, based on the security around the facility and the number of scientists we rounded up. They were none too happy to have their work interrupted.”

  Noni smiled. “I don’t imagine they were.” She seemed to contemplate the new information. “A space program, after all these years. What could they possibly have in mind?”

  “I don’t know, but you can bet it’s nothing good,” Bobby said. “The question I keep asking myself is why the CPF is putting resources into a program when they’re consistently losing ground around the globe to us. It doesn’t seem to add up.”

  “Agreed. I’m afraid when we know the answer to that equation, the math will not be pleasant to look at.”

  Bobby grunted. “I expect to hear from the Spaniard sometime soon. Fernando checks in once a day whether he’s found anything or not. I’ll let you know when I hear something.”

  “Thank you, and, as always, good work.” Noni smiled at him.

  “Where’s the next target, boss?” Bobby asked.

  “That’s still to be determined. Take the next few days with your family. We’ll talk after you’ve had some rest. This new development puts a twist on things, and I want to wait and see what Fernando comes up with before determining our next move.” She stood. “Now go home to your wife and your little boy. Kiss them for me, and I’ll give you a call when I need you.”

  Bobby stood and shook her outstretched hand. “Why don’t you come over for dinner? I know Sam would love to see you.”

  “Thank you. Any other day and I would take you up on your kind offer, but today is a day I would rather be alone.” Noni looked at the picture of her twins.

  “Oh, Noni, I’m sorry. I didn’t know what day it was.”

  She waved him off. “No apologies necessary. I don’t expect anyone else to remember the day the CPF took away my babies.” A shadow passed over her face before she looked back up at him. “Thank you again for the invitation, but I’ve found that on this day, I’m not very good company.” She ushered him to the door. “In a couple days, okay?”

  “Right, in a couple days,” he said.

  Noni leveled a stern look at him. “I mean that. I don’t want to see you near this building. I’ll call you when I need you, not before. Hug that little boy and spend time with your wife. That’s an order from your boss and a bit of advice from a friend.”

  Bobby nodded. “Okay, okay, I understand. You won’t see me.”

  “Good. Good night, Robert.”

  “Good night, Noni.”

  Bobby walked out of the office and skirted the outside of the room where he would be less visible. As he exited the building, his mind returned to the immense engine sitting in a research facility outside of Beijing.

  Why would the CPF need a space program and how had they made such a massive leap in technology? Advanced weaponry was one thing, but a faster-than-light engine? That was science fiction.

  It seemed improbable they were exploring. If they were, it was for military purposes, definitely not for the pure love of knowledge. That wasn’t how the CPF operated.

  He inhaled deeply, the air tinged with the saltiness of the ocean. For now, this was home, but he missed the deep, earthy smell of his childhood in the Appalachian Mountains. Buildings towered around him. Broken windows and gaping holes stared back. Most of the buildings sported some kind of scar from the bloody battle fought in Sydney’s streets. Parts of the city were still uninhabitable. Once the war was over and R3’s work was done, they’d reclaim it all. Make it better than it had been before.

  But first the Continental Peace Federation and all their plans needed to be dismantled.

  Bobby rubbed his hand over the scraggly beard. He was exhausted. A month of constant action in Beijing had taken its toll. He needed to see his wife and son. For once, he was going to take Noni’s advice. He left his questions and concerns on the doorstep of R3 headquarters and walked into the streets of Sydney a little lighter than when he came in.

  ****

  “Daddy!”

  Luke’s ear splitting scream brought indescribable joy to Bobby’s heart. The toddler barreled into Bobby’s legs, almost taking them out from under him. His mother called him “little tank”, and he deserved the nickname.

  “Luke, my man.” Bobby whisked him up in his arms and spun around the small apartment living room. The boy giggled and grabbed hold of Bobby’s cheeks. He set the boy down on the floor.

  “Where’s mommy?”

&nb
sp; Luke held his arms up to Bobby. “Again, Daddy, again.”

  “Not until you tell me where your momma’s hiding.” Bobby said, bending over and touching the boy’s nose lightly with his index finger.

  “Right behind you.”

  The voice of his wife was like the song of a bluebird on a spring day to Bobby’s ears. He turned and his eyes beheld his wife. She fell into his arms and squeezed him tight. Bobby buried his face into her long brown hair and inhaled deeply. He never tired of her smell; it was home to him. He pulled his face from her hair, pressed his lips lightly to hers, and held the kiss for an extended time.

  “Nice to see you,” he said.

  She smiled at him, a dazzling smile to a man who had been away from home for a month. “No one had heard anything for over a week. I was so worried about you. ”

  “I know. I’m sorry. Once we got into Beijing, we couldn’t get any contact out without tipping off the CPF we were there. I told Charles you would be worrying something fierce.”

  “It’s the worst part. I hate not knowing,” she said.

  “Comes with the territory, unfortunately.” He lifted his nose in the air and inhaled deeply. “Something smells good.” His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten anything since a quick breakfast before he boarded the plane back to Sydney.

  Samantha released her hold on him and then grasped his hand and pulled him toward the kitchen. “Can you guess what it is? It’s your favorite.”

  “Ham?”

  His wife’s face broke into a broad grin and she nodded.

  “How did you get hold of ham?” he said in wonder. Meat was hard to come by. A lot of the land just couldn’t support farm animals anymore.

  “There are a couple of people in the city who used to be farmers before the plague. They’ve been working hard on a plot of land that used to be a park. They’ve started planting and raising crops on it, and they have a few pigs. Just so you know, your name pulls a little bit of weight around here. I just went out there to see what they were doing and somebody mentioned I was your wife. One of the farmers gave me a whole package of meat he’d just cured.”