“Litsa?” Hunter said.
“Why do you help them?” she asked, her voice dripping with indignation.
“We have to,” Hunter replied. “To keep you alive. They’re going to kill you if we don’t do what they say.”
She slowly started walking, circling, like a cat studying its prey. “Then let them.”
“I’m not going to let them hurt you.” He could tell that whatever drugs they had pumped into her system had worn off.
“Are you not a prisoner, like I am?” she said, motioning at the four walls with her hands. “I don’t see how you can prevent anything.”
There was so much he wanted to tell her—but he knew he couldn’t. The Alliance was surely listening to his every word, and he couldn’t risk them finding out what was going to happen next. “Yes, I am a prisoner, and they’ve threatened to kill me, too, if Sif doesn’t do as she’s been told. As long as we do what they say, you—and I—will live.”
“And the others? What of Talia? Conrad and Geller? What of all the people they took from the Dak? From the other villages?”
Hunter knew exactly what had happened to the others, but couldn’t tell her. Not yet, and certainly not here. “I don’t know what they’ve done with Talia, Conrad, and Geller.” That much was true. He had no idea what had happened to them after seeing them in their hospital beds, and apparently Litsa didn’t, either. “That’s the truth, Litsa. I don’t know.”
The door opened again, and two security guards entered, carrying batons. They poked them at Litsa, forced her back into the corner.
“Don’t you touch her,” Hunter yelled.
“Why not?” It was President Carlisle, standing in the doorway. “They’re simple animals, nothing more.”
“You bastard,” Hunter said.
“Call me what you will, but don’t judge me until you’ve walked in my shoes, Colonel. We’ve fought off these savages for years and found them very . . . useful, as you’ve seen for yourself.”
“There’s a special place in hell for people like you,” Hunter said.
“And you’ll both get to experience it long before I do if you don’t make the scheduled radio call to Resolute,” Carlisle said, motioning toward Litsa. “So please, if you’ll accompany me. It’s time.”
Chapter 57
“Resolute, this is Beagle. I have you in sight,” Sif said, spying Resolute up ahead.
“Copy, Beagle, I have you on the viewer. You’re quite a beautiful sight.”
“Thank you, Lucas, I didn’t know you cared. I’m even wearing makeup for the occasion.”
“I’m all a-flutter. You’re tracking perfectly, right down the pike to docking. Handover at your discretion.”
“Copy, Resolute. Handover in three, two, one . . . Sync in progress . . . Green light.” Sif pulled her hands back from the controls. “Sync is a go. Liv, I’m hands-off. She’s all yours.”
“Liv copies, Commander Wagner. Beagle is under my control. Docking in three minutes.”
“Thank you, Liv.”
“You’re welcome, Commander.”
Seems Lucas has been working on Liv’s voice interface. “Lucas, switch to button four, please, I’m getting some interference on this channel.”
Lucas paused before responding. “Copy. Switching to four.” He hadn’t noticed any interference.
Sif looked over at her passenger, still sleeping like a baby. A hypoxic baby, but asleep just the same. She gave him a burst of oxygen now and then, just enough to keep him alive. “Lucas, you there?”
“I’m here. Why the closed frequency?”
“I have a passenger, and he’s not friendly. He’s sleeping right now, but I’ll have to wake him when we get there.”
“Who? And why is he asleep?”
“An old friend of President Carlisle. I killed his oxygen enough to make him pass out. Look surprised when he comes through the air lock, okay?”
“Copy. What the hell is going on, Sif? Hunter made his last radio call, but he sounded like something wasn’t right. This proves it.”
“You’ve got a good ear,” Sif replied. “I’ll fill you in when I get there. Switch back to button one, in case they’re monitoring. Mum’s the word.”
“Copy.”
Sif waited a few seconds for Lucas to switch his comms. She looked at Resolute above her, gleaming so white and beautiful against the star-dotted background and growing closer by the minute. Liv established a data link between the two ships and was slowly guiding Beagle toward Resolute.
“Beagle, this is Resolute. You’re thirty seconds away from manual override, if desired.”
“Copy, thirty seconds, Lucas. Liv, are you up to this?”
“Liv is up to this, Commander. I can bring you all the way in, if you desire.”
“Liv, I’m leaving it all up to you, then. Beagle is yours. And don’t scratch the paint, please. She’s still new.”
“Liv will not scratch the paint, Commander. Stand by for docking.”
Sif kept her hands near the manual override switch, just in case, as Liv brought Beagle toward Resolute’s docking station. The thrusters puffed, adjusting Beagle’s closing speed and trajectory, all controlled by the AI aboard Resolute.
Sif watched the distance tick down, the radar continuously pinging the ship before her. “Ten meters, Liv.”
“Liv copies. On track.”
“I show five meters, Liv.”
“Liv copies five, four, three, two . . .”
Sif felt the thrusters puff again, stopping Beagle’s momentum to barely a crawl.
With a soft thunk, Beagle was back home. Sif breathed a sigh of relief. “Good job, Liv. Right on target.”
“Thank you, Commander. Liv has established a hard seal. Docking clamps engaged. You may exit Beagle at your discretion.”
Sif unstrapped, then started working on her passenger’s restraints. His sidearm was exactly where he left it, tucked inside a belt on the belly of his suit. She reached over to the side of her seat and turned up his oxygen flow. His face regained color almost immediately, and then in a scene she remembered from her oxygen chamber training during flight school, he did what was affectionately called the Funky Chicken. His arms flailed about, and he kicked his legs, completely confused about where he was as he regained his senses.
“Whoa there, big fella. You passed out.”
“I passed—I passed—”
“Yes, you passed—you passed—out as soon as we hit zero-g. It happens to the best of us,” she lied. He bought it.
“We’re here already?”
“You missed all the fun. We’re docked and can exit Beagle whenever we want to.”
He stared at her for a moment. “So, what are we waiting for?”
“You’re the one with the gun, smart guy.”
“We can exit now. You first.”
“Such a gentleman.” Sif slipped from her seat and pushed herself down the narrow passageway toward the docking port. She could hear him bouncing about behind her, struggling to follow.
“I don’t feel too good,” he said.
“It’s your body trying to adjust to weightlessness. Space sickness. It’ll pass.” She watched as he clamped his hand over his mouth. “Really? You’re going to puke? How about you man up and hold it in, Shit-tuck.”
He belched through his fingers.
“So much for being a gentleman.” Sif turned the wheel, unlocking Beagle’s docking port. The door released with a hiss, and she lowered it to the stowed position. She pressed a button beside the door. “Lucas, Sif. Knock-knock, open up, please.”
Sif watched as the wheel on Resolute’s door spun to the open position, and she was greeted by the smiling face of Lucas Hoover. With a beard. “You don’t know how happy I am to see you, Lucas.”
“Same here, Sif.”
“Lose your razor?” she said as she pushed herself up through the short tunnel connecting the two ships.
“I decided shaving is a pain in the ass. I look rougher, don’t you thi
nk?”
“Sure you do. We have a visitor, Lucas.”
“A what?”
Sif was glad Lucas didn’t overact. She pulled herself up into Resolute’s launch bay and pointed at her passenger, who was floating up right behind her. “This is Mr. Shattuck, North American Alliance. He’s here to help us load the landers and make sure the flyer launch goes off as planned.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Shattuck.” Lucas didn’t offer his hand.
“Mr. Hoover,” Shattuck said. “I need to make a radio call, please.”
“To whom?” Lucas asked.
“He needs to call home, give them a status report.”
“Liv,” Lucas said. “Time until next comm opportunity with Phoenix?”
“Three hours and six minutes, my liege.”
Sif laughed out loud. “My liege?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I’ll bet it is. So, Mr. Shattuck, you have three hours and six minutes until you can call home. If you’re not too ill, how about helping us with the landers? And try to keep up,” Sif added. She felt no regrets knowing her guest had three hours and seven minutes to live.
Chapter 58
Sif and Shattuck spent the next three hours helping Lucas load the four landers’ cargo compartments with packages appropriately labeled for each. Sif could tell Lucas had spent every minute of his time up here getting ready. “Did your folks have you pack the car for vacation?”
He smiled. “I’ve done a complete inventory of what we have on board,” Lucas said. “Each of the landers is loaded to the gills with what I think is most crucial. The rest may have to wait for a follow-up trip, but it’s stuff we can do without for a while.”
“And your lander software mods can handle the higher weights?” Sif asked, hoping his theory about what to leave behind was correct.
“I finished another sim run right before you arrived. They’ll work.”
Shattuck was holding on to a wall strap a few feet away, still having trouble adjusting to the weightless environment. “And the flyer?” he asked.
“She’s all ready to go, too, Mr. Shattuck,” Lucas said. “I’ve loaded the culture into her tanks, tested the release mechanisms, and it’s all good. She’ll work as advertised. Let’s just hope the culture has the effect on the Riy that you’re hoping for.”
Shattuck looked at the watch on his suit’s wrist. “I need to get to a radio.”
“Time to call home, huh?” Sif said. “There’s a comm panel right over there.” She floated to the panel and opened a channel. “Liv, please contact Phoenix. Mr. Shattuck will tell you when he’s complete.”
“Liv copies, Commander.”
To Shattuck, she said, “When she establishes contact, press this button to speak, then release. Got it?”
He nodded.
“And make sure you tell them we’ve been good boys and girls.”
“I’ll tell them things are going according to plan,” he spat back.
Sif floated back toward Lucas. “Be ready to grab on to something,” she whispered.
“What are you going to do?”
“Our friend here is going for a walk.”
Lucas’s throat made an audible click as he swallowed. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m not.”
Lucas grabbed a wall strap, wrapped it around his wrist. “I hate fighter pilots,” he said under his breath.
“Communications established with Phoenix, Mr. Shattuck. You may proceed,” Liv stated.
“Phoenix, this is Shattuck. Over.”
“Shattuck, this is President Carlisle. What is your status?”
“Status is green, Mr. President. We’ve had no problems. Mr. Hoover and Commander Wagner are cooperative. The landers will launch on schedule, and so will the flyer.”
“Very good, Shattuck. Inform Commander Wagner that her friends are in good health and will continue to be as long as everything is accomplished by the numbers.”
Sif spoke up. “This is Wagner, Mr. President. The flyer will launch at”—she paused to check the time—“approximately fourteen thirty-six hours, your time. The cargo landers will follow after that. Mr. Hoover will stay aboard until we can make a return trip with Beagle. You have no worries.”
“Let’s hope not, Commander, for the sake of your friends.”
“Why would I try anything when your boy has a gun?”
“Wait,” Lucas said, “he has a gun? When were you going to tell me that?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Sif whispered.
“Sure, no worries,” Lucas said, shaking his head.
“I’ll contact you if anything changes, Mr. President,” Shattuck said.
“Copy. Good work, Shattuck. Phoenix out.”
Shattuck pressed the button ending the transmission. “How much longer until the landers are ready?” he asked.
“Let’s see,” Sif said, checking her watch on the wrist of her suit. “We’ll get around to it in a few minutes or so. But not until we change the landing coordinates.”
Shattuck looked dumbfounded for a second, processing what he just heard. Then he pulled his pistol from his belt. “We won’t be changing any landing coordinates, Commander.”
“Oh yes, we will. Liv, lock comm panel access to myself and Mr. Hoover only, please.”
“Liv has complied.”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Commander?”
“You’re going for a walk, you inhuman bastard. Liv, open air lock bravo six, three seconds only, on my mark, safety override authorization Wagner, Caitlyn seven seven. Acknowledge.”
“Liv acknowledges. On your mark, Commander.”
“Exhale, Lucas, empty your lungs, and hold on tight,” she said.
“Wait, what are you doing?” Shattuck pointed his pistol at Sif’s head. “Stop this, or I’ll shoot.”
Sif reached into her pocket and held up a bullet. “You need these, don’t you?”
Shattuck pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. His eyes went wide.
“See you, Shit-tuck.” Sif wrapped a wall strap around her arm and gripped it tightly. “Liv, open bravo six, three-second duration, mark.” She exhaled as hard as she could, and Lucas did the same, to prevent the rapid decompression from blowing their lungs out.
Any longer than thirty seconds would kill them both, but three seconds shouldn’t do any permanent damage. She hoped.
Below Shattuck a door quickly slid open, opening the compartment to the void.
One thousand one, Sif counted.
The roar was tremendous as the atmosphere was sucked outside, carrying Shattuck with it. In a flash, he was gone. The interior fogged due to the change in pressure, and everything went white.
Sif was pulled toward the open hole, holding on to the strap with all her strength. One thousand two, she counted, feeling what little air was left in her lungs slip from her open mouth. One thousand three!
The door slammed shut, locks clicking back into place. She and Lucas sprang back toward the wall as Liv quickly compensated the airflow to repressurize the compartment.
“Jesus H. Christ, Sif! What the hell was that? You just murdered a man,” Lucas screamed.
“That man, if you can call him that, was two hundred years too old. I just did the world a favor.”
“The next time you do something like that, how about you do it alone? I could barely hold on, for cripes sake!”
“You’re fine, Lucas.”
“My sanity isn’t.” He wiped sweat from his forehead with his palm as the fog in the compartment slowly cleared. “Now how about you explain to me exactly what the holy hell is going on?”
Chapter 59
Sif and Lucas made their way from the launch bay to Resolute’s command module. “You’re going to have to trust me on this one, Lucas,” Sif said.
“I’ve heard that one before, and it always leads to something I’m not going to like.”
“Liv,” Sif said, “compute lander drop points for new landi
ng coordinates. Shift coordinates from the Phoenix Complex itself to five miles south-southwest.”
“Liv has complied.”
“Check achievability, Liv.”
“Lander achievability confirmed. No change to scheduled drop time.”
“Why are you changing the landing spots?” Lucas asked.
“We don’t want them to land anywhere near the complex.”
“I figured that,” he said sarcastically, “but why?”
Sif checked the time. “We saw some things down there, horrible things. The Phoenix Complex isn’t what it seems to be.”
“Okay,” Lucas said. “I’m listening.”
When Fuller led Sif and Hunter from the corridor into the Level Five cavern, Sif was struck by its size, roughly the length of a football field and nearly as high. The entire space was crisscrossed by a pattern of dimly lit catwalks, levels and levels of them. A continuous, mechanical throbbing resounded through the place, as if a giant heart were beating.
Even through her mask, Sif could smell the stench, heavy, sweet, and sickening.
Between the catwalks, hundreds of objects hung from long cables. They looked like coffins.
Sif didn’t have to ask Fuller what was inside.
“Oh my God,” she breathed. “Those are people.” Litsa was right about the Takers. The people captured from the outside were not relocated. They were here.
Fuller led them deeper into the facility and took them up on one of the catwalks.
Sif had seen some horrible things before, but never anything like this. Within each coffin was a body—a person—suspended in a greenish, thick liquid. Tubes ran from the catwalks into the coffins, and then into mouths, stomachs, and legs, pulsing in rhythm with the throbbing that echoed through the space and traveled through the soles of her boots.
“Are they alive?”
“Their bodies are kept alive by machines after the brain is destroyed.” He tapped the back of his head. “In time, as the bodies are drained, even the machines can’t keep them functioning.”
“Drained?” Sif asked. She found it difficult to draw a breath. It was as if someone grasped her very soul and started to squeeze.
“This isn’t the way it was supposed to be,” Fuller explained. “But after Mattis was careless enough to bring a Riy hive here, and it got loose, this is what resulted.”
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