Hunt for the Garde

  I wish my people were maybe a little more like the humans. A culture that has war, yes, but also respects peace and tranquillity. Bloodshed is ever present but not the entire focus of their lives for the most part. There’s room for the innocent and pacifistic to survive. Hell, in that sense, I wouldn’t mind us being more like the Loric.

  I steal one last glance at the quiet, still water outside.

  I wonder what Adamus is doing now.

  Is he even alive?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  AFTER COMPILING ALL THE DATA MIRRA ASKED for, I completely crash in my room. It’s late morning when an alarm sounds. I wake up in a fog, disoriented, trying to figure out why the speakers in the ceiling are blaring an alarm, when someone comes on the intercom telling me to report to the council room. I move as quickly as I can, wondering what’s happened—if we’re finally going to stop pretending that we’re here for anything but total domination. My blood pumps faster, and I can’t help but bare my teeth.

  Mogadorian programming: One whiff of battle and I’m firing on all cylinders.

  But there’s another side to the feeling. A worry I can’t place. Or, rather, that I can place but don’t want to think about.

  If we’re moving into full-blown war, how many innocent lives will we take? How many of those places I’d passed through and people I’d met on my way from Dulce to Plum Island will be annihilated?

  I splash some cold water on my face and try to shake the doubt away. Since I’m a trueborn, I have my own sleeping quarters and bathroom, though it’s nothing special. I can touch almost every wall when I stand in the middle of the floor. It’s still better than the group barracks the vatborn are stuck with. At least here I get a little privacy, some time alone with my thoughts. It’s a blessing and a curse.

  I throw on my uniform and hustle down the hallway, the footfalls of my boots echoing off the metal floor. When I get to the council room, most of the other officers are already there, sitting around the big, oval table. I take a seat beside Mirra.

  “Good morning,” I murmur.

  She doesn’t look up from the readouts on a tablet in her lap, but nods and makes a hmmmm noise. It’s not exactly a “Good morning to you too,” but it could almost be mistaken for a greeting. I’ll take it.

  I tap on the table in front of me, and the glossy black surface folds open, revealing a small computer terminal. I log in, bringing up our current position and the ship’s diagnostics. We’ve barely shifted an inch since I went to sleep last night. I guess you don’t become the most feared species in the universe without some damned fine engineering.

  Eventually almost a dozen officers take seats at the table. When Captain Jax-Har enters, we all stand. He waves a hand, and in unison we sit, a well-oiled machine. He stops at one end of the room, staring at the shiny tabletop, maybe at his own reflection in it. The space around his eyes is always dark, but it looks like he hasn’t slept all night.

  Something is definitely going on.

  Finally, Jax-Har begins to talk.

  “Earlier this morning a group of humans who we believe to be among those with newly developed Loric powers posted a video on the internet. It showed these Earth scum arriving at a landmark known as Niagara Falls, just on the other side of the body of Lake Ontario, which we’re currently stationed above. The video also shows a blue stone that we believe to be Loralite, a mineral with astounding properties. A mineral that’s very valuable to Beloved Leader. Somehow, the Loric are using this to transport their new troops across the planet.”

  Beside him, Denbar nods. He’s obviously in the loop on this.

  “Digital scouts on the warship stationed over Chicago were the first to pick up on this video.” Jax-Har pauses long enough to glare at the officer in charge of our own research and reconnaissance efforts. “In response, they sent three Skimmers to investigate.”

  There’s grumbling around the table about how it should have been our troops who picked up these targets. Since the first reports of so-called “Human Garde,” Beloved Leader has made it known that capturing the anomalies are a high priority.

  I’m pretty sure I can hear Mirra grinding her teeth beside me. I bet she would’ve loved to have captured those targets herself.

  The captain continues.

  “The Skimmers reported in shortly before reaching Niagara Falls and haven’t been heard from since. Due to the Chicago captain’s insistence that the site was their find, we only learned of their operation within the last hour. I sent our own forces to investigate. They found the wreckage from our ships but no one alive—Mogadorian or human. There was evidence that the troops sent from Chicago were killed.”

  From what I understand, these powered humans are largely untrained and not so much threats as nuisances and subjects to be studied. Several specimens have been picked up across the planet with little to no resistance. It seems they’re just as confused by what’s happened to them as we are.

  So who took down these Skimmers? The real Garde? Their allies? Human resistance forces?

  “There have been other recent . . . setbacks.” Jax-Har starts to walk around the table, letting his heavy boots thud against the floor. “What I’m about to discuss is top-clearance information that doesn’t leave this room. As trueborn Mogadorians of honor, I am trusting your silence. Know that betraying this trust will be considered treason, and if I so much as suspect you of breathing a word of this to anyone else, or even to each other, I’ll put my own blade through your heart. Understood?”

  He looks around the table. We all nod. Even without the warning, I doubt anyone would mention anything from one of these meetings to anyone else.

  The captain sighs.

  “I’m aware that some of you heard radio chatter about our troops in Mexico calling in reinforcements and losing a Loric ship. You saw the Loric scum soil our Beloved Leader’s appearance in New York—something they paid dearly for. And we’ve recently been informed that one of our enclaves outside of Washington DC has been taken from us.”

  Mirra goes rigid at this, inhaling a sharp breath. I have to admit, the wind is taken out of me for a moment as well. He has to mean Ashwood. My father was the only family I ever had, and he died years ago, before the first attack on the estates. But Mirra . . . I don’t know who she still has there. Based on her reaction, I’m guessing she had no idea this happened.

  “Our Beloved Leader is no doubt setting all of his energies to ensuring Mogadorian Progress. As such, we wait in the sky for his directives. However, just across the water from us is a possible Loralite stone, something of untold strategic value to our enemies.”

  He stops at the end of the table opposite to where he started, standing at attention himself.

  “I’ve made a decision as captain of this warship to leave our post. We will take this enemy resource for ourselves, and slay any bastard who dares approach it. If the Loric are using it as a transportation hub, our cannons will vaporize anyone who appears. I have no doubt in my mind that when Beloved Leader hears of our initiative and boldness, he will reward our quick thinking.”

  The captain is silent then, letting his eyes drift among his subordinates. He doesn’t ask if we agree with him—even if we didn’t, there’s no room on the ship for any sort of vote. This is not what the humans would call a democracy. We swear our allegiance to the highest-ranked Mogadorian and follow his or her orders without question.

  Still, I know what everyone else must be wondering. Is Jax-Har going against the wishes of our Beloved Leader? What does that mean for us? If Beloved Leader doesn’t agree with what he’s doing, does that make all of us traitors?

  And if he’s making this call on his own, what are the rest of the captains throughout the planet doing? And where the hell is Setrákus Ra?

  It takes a few moments to work through all of these questions in my head—to understand the real breadth of what Jax-Har is suggesting.

  “Officer Saturnus,” he says, pointing at me. I’m jolted back into focus.

>   “Sir,” I say.

  “Set a course for Niagara Falls. I’ve sent word of my intentions to the command base in West Virginia. If I don’t hear back from them in an hour, I’ll take their silence as approval.” He turns to Denbar. “Prepare to patch me into an open channel. The other captains will be wondering what we’re doing, and I don’t want to give them reason to believe we’ve been hijacked or something.”

  “We’ll crush the Loric and anyone who aids them,” Denbar says, slamming his fist on the table. The others around me at the table join in, until the room is full of thunder.

  “Strength is sacred,” Jax-Har says, quoting the Great Book. “Now, get to work.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  IT’S A STRAIGHT SHOT ACROSS THE WATER TO Niagara Falls. There’s nothing for us to avoid, no military bases to steer clear of or other warships in the way. We just have to move. A child could probably plot a course there. And so once I’m finished I stand around my terminal, pretending to look busy. The captain isn’t on the bridge. I wonder how the other Mogadorian leaders have reacted to the fact that we’re leaving our post.

  Jax-Har is acting on his own, against a direct order from Beloved Leader. For the first time since I was folded back into the Mogadorian army, I feel like others around me might be questioning the chain of command, even if it’s in a small way. It’s at once thrilling and terrifying. And of course, the bridge is silent. What could the other officers be thinking?

  So many frustrating questions float through my mind that I don’t notice Mirra until she’s standing beside me.

  “Follow me,” she says, and is walking away before I have the chance to ask what this is about.

  I follow, though. I have to. Not just because she’s a senior officer, but because maybe I’ll actually get some answers if I talk to her.

  As we approach the door to the bridge, Denbar enters. He looks surprised to see us.

  “Where are you two going?” he asks.

  Mirra ignores him, walking forward. Denbar keeps talking.

  “The captain specifically requested that Officer Saturnus plot—”

  “You’ve completed your assignment, correct?” Mirra asks me, turning around, putting Denbar between us.

  I nod. “That’s right.”

  She tilts her head back and looks down at Denbar over the tip of her nose. “Scans detected an anomaly in our geo-mapping systems earlier this morning. It’s probably nothing, but I’m having Officer Saturnus double-check the hardware to ensure everything is in working order before our mission. If you have a problem with that, I suggest you take it up with the captain. Or I can leave Saturnus here, and if something goes wrong later, you can explain to the captain why our systems failed yourself.”

  Even I can’t tell if this is true or not. I start trying to recall everything I know about geo-mapping, just in case.

  Denbar looks taken aback for a few seconds, but that quickly morphs into something else. His eyes narrow, and a glint of teeth show through his lips. He glances at a nearby monitor.

  “We’ll be heading out soon.”

  “I’m aware,” she says, turning on her heel and leaving.

  Denbar’s glare then falls on me. I shrug, and he walks off in a huff.

  I meet Mirra in the hallway.

  “That egotistical little kraul,” she mutters under her breath as she continues walking, not looking at me. “Still can’t handle that high command appointed me as his superior.”

  She moves so fast that I have to double my normal pace to keep up. Eventually she takes a sharp right, heading into an elevator that leads down to the belly of the ship where many of our vital systems are housed. As a top-ranking officer on the warship, she’s one of the few people with access to such a place.

  As soon as the doors close, she turns to me.

  “Your questions yesterday,” she’s says. “Where did they come from?”

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  Her lips purse a bit. “You don’t seem to trust the way things are going right now. You were wondering why the captain was asking for orders. Questioning his judgment, perhaps.”

  This is quite an accusation, but she doesn’t seem angry, which makes me think this might be her attempt at a joke.

  “It just seemed odd.”

  “Agreed,” Mirra says. She starts to say something a few times before she actually speaks again. “I’m talking to you in confidence, Rexicus. Because I think some big things are about to happen, and if that’s true, I’ll need someone like you to . . .” She searches for the right words.

  “Be a friend,” I offer.

  She called me Rexicus.

  “To navigate the ship,” she clarifies.

  We’ll work our way to “Rex.”

  The elevator stops, the door opening to a pristine, empty hallway leading to the systems core. But Mirra doesn’t get out. Instead, she leans on the entryway, blocking the door from closing. There’s something different in her eyes. Excitement, confusion and just a hint of fear.

  “Things haven’t been going well lately,” she says. “You heard what the captain said.”

  “Ashwood.”

  She sighs a little, nodding. “My family stuck around after the first attack by the traitor Adamus. I’m not sure how long they stayed. I’m not sure . . .”

  She trails off, and I’m stuck thinking how strange it is to hear Adamus’s name coming out of her mouth. Sometimes I forget that others don’t know him like I do. Or like I did. Even though I’m not sure how I’m supposed to think of him. It’s a reminder that though Mirra is opening up to me for the first time, this isn’t the same as Adamus and me talking as we hopped trains. This is business. In fact, she and Adamus would probably try to kill each other if they were ever in the same room.

  “There have been more defeats and setbacks,” she continues, shaking off any thoughts of her family. “And rumors. It’s said that Beloved Leader himself was at the attack in Mexico. The one where reinforcements had to be called in.”

  My mouth drops open. If Beloved Leader was on the battlefield, the Loric or humans or whoever fought against him shouldn’t have stood a chance. At least, not according to the Great Book. He is the personification of invincibility. Any time he’s retreated from battle or appeared to be overpowered—like at the United Nations—it’s only been a feint, a fake out to draw our enemies into the open.

  Or that’s supposed to be the case. That’s what we’re told.

  The spark of doubt in the back of my mind flames up again.

  “So what does that mean?” I ask, choosing my words carefully. I’m not sure where she’s going with this.

  “It means that since that attack, we haven’t received any direct orders from Beloved Leader. Everyone’s supposed to be holding their ground, but our enemies are moving. These human Garde are popping up all over the place. Their forces are growing.”

  “So you’re on board with the captain’s plan?”

  “Officer . . . ,” she says, then shakes her head. “Rexicus. Last night we had a meeting with several other warship captains. Everyone’s nervous, or angry, or both. No one said anything in the open, but . . . people are starting to imagine the unthinkable. The captain from Moscow actually asked who would be next in line if someone needed to take Beloved Leader’s place ‘temporarily.’ It’s madness. And Denbar’s always there whispering in Jax-Har’s ear, telling him all sorts of lies probably.”

  My head swims, trying to make sense of everything. To make sense of why she’s telling me all this. Could it be that she too is questioning the Mogadorian way?

  And if so, is that why she’s come to me? Because she’s figured out that I’m another doubter? If things are about to shift, perhaps we could be that change.

  “You . . . ,” I start. I check to make sure the hallway is empty before lowering my voice to the faintest whisper. “You think Beloved Leader might be dead or something?”

  Her palm meets my face so quickly that I don’t even realize I
’ve been slapped for a few seconds. Then the stinging pain rises in my cheek.

  “What the—”

  “Don’t speak such blasphemy,” she says. Her eyes are big and wild now. “Beloved Leader is immortal. You know that. He’ll lead the Mogadorian Progress long after you and I are gone. I thought you were a believer, Rexicus Saturnus, not a heretic. Not a traitor.”

  I raise my hands up in front of my chest. I may not be sure of what’s going on, but I do know the last thing I want is for Mirra to be pissed at me right now.

  “No, no,” I say, trying to keep my hands from shaking. “I was just making sure you weren’t one.”

  “Don’t you see?” Mirra asks. “The Great Book tells us we must follow Beloved Leader’s plans without question and without fail. If his last command was that we stay above Toronto, moving this ship anywhere else is an act of treason.”

  Everything clicks together suddenly. Mirra isn’t telling me all this because she thinks Beloved Leader may not be everything he claims. She’s telling me this because she truly believes that by moving from Toronto, our captain is betraying the entire army.

  “We should be over the city, ready to fire on it at a moment’s notice,” she says. “Ready to burn it to the ground for the glory of Mogadorian Progress. Don’t you see, Rexicus? This is a test! Beloved Leader is trying to find those who are truly worthy of his favor. Like me. Like you too if you follow me. Jax-Har has lost sight of the path. He must be stopped. We can’t allow him to doom us all. We’ll show Beloved Leader that we’re his strongest warriors—disciples who follow him without hesitation—and then he’ll reward us by letting us bathe in the blood of the humans and Loric.”

  She takes a deep breath. “Are you with me?” she asks.

  I don’t know what to say. Despite all the doubt I’ve had about Mogadorian Progress and the way we’ve invaded Earth, crossed an entire solar system to hunt down a few remaining Loric, I never expected to be in a position like this. On one hand, I see where Jax-Har is coming from. Maybe Beloved Leader is dead, or injured. Captured, even. Maybe he’s not fit to give commands. And if so, what does that mean for the Mogadorian fleet?