by K. F. Breene
“We got bullets all day long,” Millicent said before muting her microphone.
“Yes, I do,” Gunner said, answering Millicent’s question.
“I’ll target.” Danissa didn’t wait for permission before bending over her console. Dagger closed the doors and walked to the lockers in the back.
“Well, this has ten times the firepower and smarter, more advanced tech. It’s a pretty little vessel.” Pride rang in Millicent’s voice.
“You get to call things pretty, do you?” Dagger droned as he handed out utility belts to the clones.
“I’m thinking with my heart, not my nether regions.”
“A woman’s heart is either the most beautiful, giving, glorious thing in the world,” Dagger said as though talking to himself. “Or, if you break it, the most horrible and violent thing. She’ll save you with a kiss and a smile, or she’ll smear your worthless ass all over the ground floor.”
“You should probably stop taking lovers,” Roe said. “Clearly you are doing something wrong . . .”
“This one”—Gunner hooked a thumb back at Millicent—“will stick a knife in your ribs when you’re not looking. And if you are looking, she’ll blow you up.”
“I rather enjoyed when there was only one monster ego and horrible sense of humor to combat. Two of you security guys, plus a security dropout, might be too much.” Millicent pursed her lips. Danissa couldn’t help but laugh.
“Marie is on her way?” Millicent asked, her tone turning serious.
“Yes.” Gunner’s tone suddenly matched. “She’s on the way to the safe house with Sinner and his team. If things go wrong, they’ll get her off-planet. We have two other crafts loaded in other bays.”
“Targets for all enemy crafts are locked,” Danissa said. “Fire when ready.”
“Transfer that program over to the second smartest of the rebels,” Millicent said, executing her weapons program.
“Second smartest?”
“Yes. Managing the weapons will go to the smartest. We have fifteen or so minutes before we’ll have a whole different set of problems. Ones that we’ve probably never seen before. It’s time for battle.”
Chapter 16
“Where are we?” Trent asked as he slithered through a charred hole and then reached back for Mira. “And how long does it take to make one of these rat holes?”
Billy crawled through next. As soon as he stood up, he punched Trent in the face.
Trent didn’t see it coming. He flinched too late and threw his hands up to ward off another attack. “Why, Billy?”
“It’s all dark, but they still see,” Billy squeaked. “They’ll get in and the other people will be confused.” Billy danced about and then grabbed his crotch.
“You get used to it dangling there,” Trent said helpfully. There was no point in asking Billy who “they” and “the other people” were. Billy wouldn’t know, and he wouldn’t be able to describe anyone. He seemed to spit out whatever flashed through his mind without any real idea what it meant. As his talent matured, Trent had every belief he’d be extremely powerful in precognition.
They just had to keep him alive so he could mature.
Zanda came through the hole as Mira started to wander off.
“Zanda, grab the baby!” Trent stuck his hands through the hole to help guide Suzi. They were slapped away, probably as Marie would’ve done. “Yes, I know, you can do it yourself. Go ahead.”
“It takes a while to make these holes,” Terik said when he finally passed through. “And a lot of effort to keep the fire from getting out of control.”
Trent glanced at his wrist before taking two of the packs and slinging them over his shoulders. No communication from Ryker or Millicent.
“Your turn.” Terik grabbed Mira and handed her to Trent. They’d had to leave the cart behind ten floors ago.
“How much farther?” Trent asked as he balanced everything.
“Two more floors.” Terik took Billy’s hand and then flinched away when Billy kicked.
They all paused for what would come. Nothing did.
“Sometimes it’s a premonition, and sometimes he’s just a jerk,” Suzi said, pushing Billy away.
“These floors are connected.” Trent looked into a burned hole. The layout resembled that of an apartment, with space for a cleaning stall, a bed area, and a leisure alcove. The walls were charred and furniture reduced to mounds on the littered floors. The inhabitants were long gone.
For all that, a faint glow of security lighting still ran through the debris-littered corridor.
“And you said there is a place for our people to land?” Trent asked, his voice hushed in the empty and destroyed space.
“Oh yeah.” Terik pushed away Billy, who had tried another kick. “Lots of space. They have to get into it, though. It’s basically a hollowed-out floor. I don’t think it’s very structurally sound, but it’ll work.”
Trent tried to keep his eyes open as they walked. Tried to keep his legs moving one in front of the other, staying strong for the children. But he’d only had a very short nap on the craft en route to the children’s hiding place, followed by another short nap at one of the eating stops. He’d probably been awake for nearly twenty-four hours and it was starting to slow him down.
There wasn’t much he could do now, though. They needed to get to the meeting spot. Ryker and Millicent were counting on him.
A few grueling hours later, Terik finally stopped walking. He dropped his backpack to the ground. “Suzi, distribute food and get the blankets.”
Trent blinked in confusion and focused his sandy eyes. They stood in the doorway of a huge, cavernous space. As he’d come to expect, various parts of the building and whatever used to be in it littered the floor in piles. At the other end, a gaping hole with jagged edges spoke of missiles, or a crash landing by a huge craft. Away to the right was another, much smaller, hole in a mangled, collapsed structure.
“Quaint,” Trent said sarcastically, putting Mira down.
Billy rose up on his tiptoes, thrust Toad Man into the sky, and then spiked the stuffed toy with all his might. “Boom! Three will die, but two. Okay.”
“Describe what you saw,” Terik said, catching the little boy as he hopped by. “Say what you saw again. Use more words.”
Billy’s face screwed up before he punched Terik in the crotch.
“Oh!” Terik bent at the waist but held on to Billy’s shoulder. “I said not to punch me there!”
“Three come in here, and boom! All go boom! Flip. Two land. Big people get out. Nice ladies. Flip! Boom! All go boom, and fire and light and heat. Flip. We get hugs and slap fives and better-tasting food. Flip—”
“Okay, okay. I got it.” Terik let him go, braced his hands on his knees, and hung his head. “I should never have taught him how to punch.”
“What does that mean, flip?” Trent asked, his wrist already raised to send a message.
“Two possible futures.” Terik winced as he straightened up. “If your friends try to land three crafts in here, they’ll all die. They’ll explode somehow. Or crash, I don’t know. I doubt Billy does, either. If they come with two crafts, they’ll land safely.”
Trent blew out a breath and shook his head. “You children are . . . exceptional. I don’t agree with the experimentation they did, since it doesn’t sound like it went smoothly for others, but with you children, their outcome was . . . just exceptional. Really awesome. I hope I can eventually look at your files, because you are something.”
“Do you always talk this much?” Suzi asked.
Trent paused midmessage and couldn’t help but scowl at the little girl. What people had against talking, he would never understand. Everyone was always telling him to stop babbling.
He finished his message, took a food packet, gagged because it was so disgusting, and then followed the others back through the doorway, where they’d be somewhat protected from the environment. The children more or less settled in a pile of bodies,
probably accustomed to huddling together for warmth and comfort.
Trent sat in the space beside them. “We should probably take turns keeping watch,” he said to Terik. “Just in case.”
“Okay. Who goes first?”
“I can,” Trent said, crossing his arms over his chest. He was the adult, after all.
Trent groggily came awake to someone shaking him. He blinked into the face of Mira. Suzi leaned against one side of him, and Billy was curled up on his lap. He’d clearly fallen asleep when he should’ve been looking out.
“Hi, Mira. What is it, honey?” Trent wiped the sleep out of his eyes. It didn’t do much good.
That’s when he heard the sound of engines beyond the doorway, working hard.
His heart started to hammer. He removed Billy and gently shook Suzi awake. Terik straightened up a moment later, wiping his face.
“Someone’s here,” Trent whispered, standing. “Get ready to run.”
He edged to the door and took a deep breath. Please don’t be Toton. Please don’t be robots.
Something nudged him. A mirror was placed into his hand. He nearly groaned, remembering the last time he had attempted to look around a corner with a mirror. “I hope they don’t shoot at me . . .”
In the shaking reflection, one craft was just touching down in the large space, and the other had landed safely. If they’d had a third craft, they’d taken Trent’s words to heart and sent it away.
“It has to be them,” Trent whispered as his wrist flashed with a message from Ryker: I can see your mirror.
The hard exhale was louder than his words had been. “It is them. Thank Holy.”
Tiredness gave way to intense relief as he turned toward the others. All wore the same masks of apprehension, except for Terik, whose expression had closed down into a hard mask.
“I know them,” Trent said. “It’s okay. Help is here!”
“But what if they think we’re freaks?” Suzi said, reaching for Terik’s hand. Zanda’s arms were wrapped around his leg.
Trent pushed away his desperate urge to rush through the doorway and glue himself to Ryker’s side. Instead, he summoned up his patience and sank to the ground until he was on the same level as the children. “Their oldest daughter is here on Earth with them, and she’s just like you. She’s about the same age as Suzi. They are nice people, I promise.”
“It’s fine. I’ll look after you,” Terik said, his knuckles turning white where he held the girls’ hands. He did a great job of hiding his own anxiety. Trent would bet his house that the conglomerate had been aiming for the superior-level security mold with Terik. And it looked like they had gotten it, plus some perks. Too bad they didn’t value what they had.
“Come on, you’ll see.” Trent reached for Billy’s hand. The little boy lowered his head, peering at him from under a furrowed brow. Without warning, he sprinted at Trent and head butted him in the chest. “Good grief, child!” Trent hopped up and dodged a kick, backing through the doorway. “No kicking! Remember? No kicking, no punching, no biting, no—stop that!” A small fist hit his hip. “Dang it.”
He looked up in time to see Millicent coming out from around the craft. She surveyed the area. Ryker was staring at the hole to the right. Stern-faced troopers were stepping out of the other craft, and they immediately organized into rank and file. Ryker appeared to have brought the best.
“Trent!” Millicent walked over hurriedly before offering him a smile. “You made it. I’m glad. How could you possibly have known my cloaking device would only cover two crafts?”
Ryker was there next, sticking out a hand to shake. “Good to see you made it.”
“This is Billy, who had a premonition regarding the number of crafts that could safely land.” Trent stuck his hand out to grab Billy. It was slapped away with Toad Man. “He’s violent.”
Millicent kneeled. The children, huddled together, stared at her with solemn eyes. “Hello. My name is Millicent. I have three children who would fit right in with this group. What are your names?”
None of the kids answered.
“Well, I need to quickly fill you in on why we’re here, and what we’re doing. First—” She looked behind her. “Danissa, grab a portable screen and contact Marie. Have her get in front of a camera. I want her to meet the children she’ll be working with.”
Trent caught sight of Danissa, Millicent’s sister, before she headed back to the craft. It was exciting to see them together. He looked forward to identifying similarities.
“I’m afraid you are caught up in a very dangerous situation,” Millicent said to the children. “We need you to help us get through the collapsed building—through this tunnel. After that, we’ll get you to safety. The problem is, I don’t know where that might be.”
“We’ll leave two people behind who can fly the crafts out of here,” Ryker said, his gaze roaming the space. “The children can return to this building through the tunnel and then be flown to the safe house to wait with Marie. You’re sure that device will keep working?”
“No,” Millicent said, still kneeling. “This environment tends to corrode that type of metal. It should work for a while, and it should only need to be cleaned once it fails. But just in case, we’re going to switch to plan B, because if it fails for even a moment, they’ll catch us. Our cover will be blown.”
“What’s plan B?” Ryker asked.
“Putting their cameras on a loop,” Danissa said. “Here.” She handed Millicent the screen. Marie’s face filled up the whole thing. “I have the program ready to go. It’ll trick the computers, most likely, but if a human digs into the feed or setup, they’ll probably notice.”
“What about a human computer?” Ryker asked.
“A what?”
“It’ll need human eyes to look at the feed and find the little inconsistencies,” Millicent interjected. “And it would need to be a detail-oriented human—or sentient being, anyway—at that. The setup, though . . . let’s just hope they don’t have a reason to look.” Millicent took the portable screen. “Marie, introduce yourself to these children and tell them about how you can work computers with your mind.”
“Trent, walk with me.” Ryker laid a heavy hand on Trent’s shoulder. Leaving Millicent to hopefully ease the children’s anxiety, which would then make them more willing to help, Trent let the large man lead him toward the hole where another huge man waited. “Give me a rundown on exactly what we are dealing with when it comes to those children.”
Trent went through their various abilities as Ryker studied the building layout on his wrist screen. When Trent finished, Ryker glanced at the other large man.
“I’d hate to endanger children,” the other large man said, “but my, oh my, would they be helpful.”
“Problem is, unlike Marie, who can help from a safe location, they have to be present.” Ryker shook his head. “We need Terik, but . . . we should probably leave the rest behind. This is no place for children. Regardless of how helpful they’d be . . . I just can’t rationalize endangering them.”
Millicent straightened up and glanced at Danissa. “Get that program going. Time is running out.”
“Time was running out when you left ten or so years ago.”
“That doesn’t make my statement any less true.” Millicent gestured to the children, still gathered in front of her, and they followed, a few of them clutching stuffed animals or blankets.
“Round ’em up,” Ryker said to the other large man. “Let’s get moving.”
Millicent was looking at her wrist screen when she neared them. “Four waves of Toton crafts have been taken down. Their systems are scrambled, thanks to Marie. I told her to back out, though. A good enough systems analyst could follow a hacker back to his or her source and disable it. Being that Marie’s source is her brain, not a computer . . .”
“Is that possible?” Danissa asked.
Millicent shook her head. “I still don’t know how her mind does what it does. I haven’t been
able to break her code—largely because she doesn’t seem to use a code. It’s an aggravating riddle to say the least. Enough to drive you mad.”
“Bet I figure it out before you do.”
Millicent’s eyes lit with fire. “Doubtful.”
“Ladies, stay focused, please.” Ryker was looking down at Terik. His brow furrowed slightly, as though trying to figure out a riddle.
“Here we go, sir.” The other large man stalked up with the same kind of killer’s grace Ryker possessed. Clearly they had both been successfully bred for similar roles. “Ready when you are.”
“The program is running,” Danissa said.
“Hey, kid, my name is Dagger.” The large man stuck out his hand. “Slap me five.”
Terik didn’t move.
“Good call. I might have germs. So you can see in the dark, huh?”
“Yes,” Terik said with confidence.
“And you know the way through to the other side?” Dagger jerked his head toward the hole.
“Yes, but in a few parts it’s going to be tight for a couple of you. I can burn the way, but that takes a while.”
“Right, yeah, with your fire. That’s cool. I’d love to burn shit.” Dagger glanced at Ryker, and then back at the boy. “We have a couple cool things that should help us cut through, so don’t you worry about that. We also have neat glasses that will help the rest of us see in the dark. You sure you don’t need a pair of glasses? We got extra.”
Terik just stared at him, not at all the brazen kid he’d been with his caretakers. He probably recognized that these new people were smarter and could easily kill him if they wanted to, regardless of his powers. Terik wasn’t a fool.
“I’m going to be up front with you, okay?” Dagger continued. “We’re going to lead together. How does that sound?”
“Fine,” Terik said.
“And we’re going to leave the others behind so—”
“No.” Terik took a step toward the other children. “We stay together.”
“It is going to be incredibly dangerous once we step through that hole.” Ryker used a commanding voice that brooked no argument. “We don’t wish to endanger any of you. The only reason we’re taking you is because we have no choice.”