The problem is that this guy knows things that I need to know.
I take a drink of the water. “Thanks.”
“No problem, Aaron,” Marty says. He sounds pleasant. There’s nothing about him that immediately screams threat. At the same time, he’s clearly a guy who can handle himself. Thick, but not muscular. Tall without being huge. His body language is open, his tone friendly, conciliatory even. Like he’s sorry I’m here.
“Ask you something?” I say, knowing I shouldn’t but unable to help myself.
“Maybe,” he says. “Might help if you tell me a few things.”
I was able to hold out for most of our first encounter. I gave him nothing he didn’t already have. I wasn’t unfriendly or standoffish—something I don’t think I could have managed before Kaiju Wars Online—but I wasn’t chatty Kathy, either.
“Answer for an answer,” I say.
“Depends on what you give me,” he says. “Aaron, this is some deeply fucked up shit. Help me understand what’s going on. Give me some real information and I’ll see what I can tell you.”
He’s allowed to lie. I know he is. Like I said though, hope’s a traitorous bitch. “You ask. I’ll answer. I ask, you answer.” It’s the worst sort of negotiation but it’s the best I can come up with.
“How do you know Max Dryden?” he asks, like that’s a perfectly reasonable question.
“Who?”
He frowns at me. “Aaron, I thought we were trying to help each other. Are you really going to play dumb now?”
“Not playing dumb, I don’t—” it clicks. That’s Solrin’s player’s name. Just to be sure though I ask, “You mean the British guy, right?”
He nods. “You mean to say, you’d never met him in person before today? And you just hopped in a car with him after absconding with the senator’s daughter?”
It’s a trap. “I didn’t abscond with anyone, and that’s more questions.” Dammit, I sound too defensive. “I got in his car because I recognized his voice. We’ve met online.”
I wonder if that’s a lie or not. I decide it’s not. We were both online in Kaiju Wars, whether or not it uses internet. “We played videogames together.”
“Do you know why he was here in Vegas?” he asks.
“It’s my turn to ask a question,” I say.
“You haven’t given me anything to work with, Aaron. That man had your phone and Dane Burnette’s phone completely bugged out with spyware. Why would he do that?”
“Son of a bitch,” I mutter. So that’s how he was keeping track of us. That could also explain how he knew about Dane’s room but not that he’d bought a gun. If he’d picked it up at a pawn shop in town after landing and paid cash Sol—Max, wouldn’t have known.
I also now know that the government has been busting into our phones. That’s the only way they’d be able to uncover the spyware. Unless, of course, Marty’s lying. But too much makes sense to think that. I swallow down the flash of hot frustration and do my best to focus. “You tracked us with our phones?”
Marty sighs. “You were only peripherally on whoever’s in charge’s radar.” Until I fucked it up by getting involved with Lusitania. Of course, a senator’s daughter would have a hell of a lot more people watching her. Especially after what she pulled back when Titanocobra showed up.
“Your involvement seems more obvious in hindsight,” he says. “Oxford, Dallas…Titanocobra was chasing you. Just like Dane’s…kaiju…was chasing you. First Huntsville, now Vegas. Who all did you piss off, Aaron?”
It takes me a moment to understand what he’s asking. When it does, I almost laugh. Whoever his people are, they’ve started to figure things out about players being able to bring their kaiju to earth. They probably don’t get the videogame element yet, but they’re willing to acknowledge that Dane brought Megaptera here and before that used him to attack Huntsville. They think he did both to try and get to me. They also think that Titanocobra was another player.
“Would you believe me if I told you aliens?” I ask.
Marty looks at me for a moment, expression blank, then slowly bleeds into bland. “I might. But I’d be careful going with that if that’s your story. The only reason you haven’t vanished into a deep dark hole is the jurisdictional mess this incident has created and the involvement of Senator Church’s daughter.”
He leans back in his chair and massages his eyes through closed lids. I can only imagine the chaos they’re dealing with out there. Three kaiju attacks in less than twenty-four hours, one of which resulted in another kaiju showing up and leveling an airport in a grudge match.
They’ll be looking for a scapegoat to pin everything on. And damn if I don’t fit the bill. Fuck me sideways. I’m an ex-con and to all appearances the kaiju seem to be following me around the country. It’s not an unreasonable conclusion to think that they’re coming after me. Hell, it’s even partly true.
“To be clear,” Marty says, lowering his hand from his face and leaning forward to close the distance between us, like he’s confiding in me. “That’s a complication, not a shield. This shit’s going to hit the fan and make one hell of a mess, especially once Church figures out how best to throw you under the bus.”
He’s right, too. Senator Church does not like me. He’ll do everything he can to protect his daughter and his own reputation, including hanging me out to dry. Or using me as a human shield. And I’m trapped with no way out.
There’s a knock on the door. Marty gets up and peaks outside. I catch a glimpse of a black uniformed body and movement that suggests a second person. There’s some whispering and then Marty turns to look at me over his shoulder. “Apparently though, the connection to the senator does have its privileges.”
He opens the door and steps out.
A second later Dad steps through.
The door closes behind him.
“Fuck,” I mutter. “What the hell are you doing here?” This is so not what I need right now.
He’s as soft and white collar as ever, with major “dad-bod” going on. He’s looking around like a scared puppy, completely out of his element here in this place where people are chained up and others have guns.
At my words he snaps to attention and anger flashes across his eyes. “I do not want to hear that from you right now. What the hell are you involved in, Aaron?”
“Save the judgmental father role for someone you’ve actually been a father too,” I say.
“Damn it, Aaron,” he bellows at the top his lungs. “They took Emma into custody three hours ago. Do you understand this? Do you have any idea how serious this is? They arrested your mother!”
Chapter Fifteen
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“What? Why?” That makes no sense. Why the hell would they go after Mom?
I’m out of my chair with no memory of standing. The chains holding me to the table rattle and go taut. For a moment I think I can snap them, just pull at these puny bindings until they break, but then I realize I’m confusing my strength with Taisaur’s. It’s disconcerting enough that I drop back down into my chair. I’ve never had that kind of body-confusion before.
Dad closes the distance between us until he’s standing across the table from me. “I don’t know, Aaron. Why would they arrest her? What the hell did you get her involved in?”
“I didn’t get Mom involved in anything. I left so that she wouldn’t be involved.” And because I’m a coward, but I’m not about to admit that to him. Oh hell, they’re recording this conversation. “Dad, you need to stop talking right now.”
“Don’t you talk to me like that, young man,” he says.
“Dad! They are recording this. They want me to say something incriminating. Now stop giving them ammo.”
He begins pacing up and down the length of the stainless-steel table. He’s like a caged animal. Never mind that I’m the one who’s locked up. Dad’s never been in any
kind of trouble with the law. He’s the kind of guy who cops give a “stern warning” when they pull him over instead of a traffic ticket.
“People are dead, Aaron. What is going on? Giant monsters—they’re saying you’re at the center of it all. That you’re mixed up in some kind of conspiracy.”
“Who the hell is ‘they?’” I ask, afraid I already know the answer.
Dad stops pacing to look at me. He leans forward, putting his hands on the table. “Aaron, talk to me. According to Senator Church you kidnapped Lusitania and talked Isabella into holding her prisoner back in Oxford. He’s saying that these giant monsters are all coming after you because you did something.”
I was right. The senator’s painted a big ass target on my chest and put me between his daughter and the world. I didn’t think he’d throw Isabella under the bus, too though. The thought fills me with rage.
That bastard. How many lives is he willing to ruin to keep his reputation clean?
“They’re not all here for me,” I say.
Dad reals back like I’ve slapped him. “You mean he’s right?”
I blink at him. “You didn’t believe him?”
His shoulders sag. “Aaron, I will always—always—give you the benefit of the doubt.” He let out a sigh. “Or I’ll try to, anyway.” He pulls Marty’s seat around and sits in it. Across from me, not beside me, so that the table is between us. “Talk to me, Aaron. What’s going on?”
I’m still trying to get past the fact that Dad says he believes me. The benefit of the doubt? Does he believe that he’s honestly always given me that? Does it matter. He says that he doesn’t believe Senator Church and is willing to hear my story. The people who are holding me, whichever agency they work for, they’ll record this. Will that matter either? They need to know the truth.
Not explaining and trying to hide the truth because it sounds so outlandish is what’s landed me in this mess. If I’d been upfront with Xenatlas, Solrin, and Megaptera from the beginning would any of this have happened? Maybe Dane would still be alive. Maybe hundreds of people in Huntsville, Manhattan, and Las Vegas wouldn’t be dead.
I take a deep breath and tell him what happened. I tell him about Dr. Warden showing up with his offer. I tell him about the requirement of having to play the game regularly. I tell him about the money they offered me to take a specific mission. I tell him about Titanocobra and learning that it wasn’t a game. About everything that happened after that and what I’d learned about the game that isn’t a game. I even tell him about Dr. Warden’s impromptu visit to Mom’s house.
He’s not a particularly good listener. He keeps stopping me to ask stupid questions or clarify things. He’s still wrapping his head around the idea of the monsters being made and summoned here. Let alone the aliens or the Game Masters.
“So, the big ass snake wasn’t a…a player?” he repeats this question for the third time after I’m finished.
“No,” I say, not bothering to hide my exasperation. At least he’s trying. It’s too many years too late, but maybe it counts for something? “That was sent by the aliens. I think they’ve got some way to track down players. Or maybe it’s something to do with our kaiju. I don’t know.”
“And every one of these players, they have anger issues?” he asks. The “like you” goes unsaid but is still heard loudly.
“Yeah.”
“And Lusitania is a player?”
I nod again. “Yeah.”
He shakes his head. “I just have so much trouble believing that. She’s such a polite, sweet girl.”
I groan. I’d throw my hands up if they weren’t chained to the table. “Please. Lusitania is probably the angriest person I’ve ever met.” A thought occurs to me. “Where is she, anyway?” I have trouble imagining Senator Church letting his baby girl sit around in a place like this.
“She’s under house arrest,” Dad says. “Senator Church is flying her out of Vegas to…I forget where, but she’s staying in Nevada. He’s trying to make her out to be a victim in all this.”
I sigh. “I don’t see anyone but victims in this mess. The players, the aliens we were tricked into killing, the people here…we need to find these Game Masters. They’re the ones behind everything.”
Dad nods. “Sounds like…do you still have Dr. Warden’s contact info?”
I don’t actually. His face falls when I admit this.
He grimaces. “Aaron…is there anything, any sort of proof that can prove that these…Game Masters…are real?”
“Maybe…they put a chip in my hand,” I say, squeezing said hand into a fist.
After they’d put it inside of me, I’d actually thought about trying to cut it out with a steak knife. Now the very idea of someone trying to take it from me sends me into near panic. I’d never see Taisaur again, let alone become him. I don’t know if I could make that sacrifice. It’s like thinking about cutting off a body part. Taisaur’s a part of me.
“Do you think—” an alarm blares, cutting Dad off before he can ask the question I really don’t want to hear. “What’s that?”
A sneaking suspicion makes its way up from my gut into my brain. “It’s another kaiju,” I mutter.
“Do you think it’s here for you?” Dad asks. He’s on his feet and standing between me and the door way, like a kaiju might come walking in that way and he’s going to stop it with his bare hands. In that moment, I feel a gratitude that Dad is my father that I have never experienced before. It makes me feel kind of weak inside and I hate it. I crush it down before it can make me do or say something stupid.
“There’s nothing we can do from here,” I say to Dad, my irritation with myself bleeding into my words, making him flinch. Dammit. I didn’t mean to take his head off.
“You turned into your kaiju before, Tigersaurus, right?” he asks.
“Taisaur,” I correct him automatically. “And yeah, but that was kind of by accident. I don’t know how to do that now and anyway I don’t have my phone on me. Do you have yours?”
He shakes his head. “No, they took it before I came in.”
I swear. “Guess we’re just going to have to wait it out. Like those old tornado drills.”
He gives a nervous chuckle. “You know, I never got the point of those. If you curl up like a frog in the hallway the tornado won’t suck you out.”
I return his chuckle, a little less awkwardly. “Or those old nuke drills. If you get under your desk, you won’t be totally incinerated. Hell, you might even survive the radiation poisoning and possible nuclear winter.”
He shakes his head. “How do you always manage to take things too far? That’s damn morbid, Aaron.”
Well, it was good while it lasted.
The door to the interrogation room swings open and Marty steps in. “We’ve got another kaiju here in Vegas.”
“Kind of figured,” I say, putting as much bland nonchalance into my voice as I can.
“Who’s after you this time?” Marty demands. “Where can we find him?”
I only know one other player, but I don’t actually know who or where he is. It’s possible it’s someone else, but unlikely. “What’s the kaiju look like?”
“Like a big ass bug,” Marty says.
That’s got to be Xenatlas. If so, then he’s definitely here for me. “We need to move—”
The ceiling comes crashing down. I duck under the table. My cuffs bite into my wrists and pull me up short but I don’t care. Heavy debris clangs off the stainless-steel and an instant later Dad’s under the table with me.
An enormous, chitin covered insect leg passes through the roof, tearing up walls and the roof as it goes. Marty’s screams are barely audible over the sound of collapsing structures. It’s even more noticeable when he stops.
I glance over. His leg is paste and part of his torso has been crushed by debris. He’s dead.
Through the hole I can make out an absolutely colossal figure through the rising cl
oud of smoke. It’s too big to be Xenatlas, even with all of his leveling up. And the limb I’d just seen was covered in a dull brown exoskeleton, not at all like his green one. Most telling of all though, as I stare at the shadow overhead, is that even though it’s a struggle to make out the details, I can, in fact, see the kaiju. And it doesn’t have an HP bar or rage meter.
The aliens are back.
Chapter Sixteen
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Everything goes to hell fast.
The kaiju doesn’t crush the building so much as set off a chain reaction of demolition. The whole thing is coming down in parts, collapsing in on itself as the structural integrity gives out. Dad acts faster than I thought he could, getting the keys off Marty’s corpse and unlocking me from the table. All thoughts and concerns about obeying the law and the legality of fleeing a police precinct—or whatever it is we’ve been brought to—goes out the window for him. It’s a weird change, and if the situation weren’t so fucked up, I think I’d kind of like it. Decisive Dad. Man of action.
We’re out the door and in the hallway barely seconds before the rest of the interrogation room comes down, spraying us with a cloud of dust and hiding what remains of Marty. People in uniforms and suits shove past, buffeting us into the walls as they rush by, all thoughts about who we are and why we’re here forgotten.
“Come on,” I shout at Dad and take off. He calls after me but a second later is moving too. We pass through a larger room and I see doors leading outside. I bolt for them but something red and gleaming catches my eye. I pull up short, grabbing Dad before he can pass me.
“What are you doing?” he demands.
An instant later one of the suits goes running out the door and trips, only to be suspended in the air. Semi-transparent red lines of something hold him in place. He screams in pain and begins thrashing about. He’s stuck good though and the more he thrashes the more thoroughly he seems caught in the red webbing.
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