by R. D. Brady
Chris grinned. “Well, it has, hasn’t it?”
Maeve nodded, taking Chris’s hand again. “I don’t think I could do this without you.”
“You could. And you would. But you don’t have to.”
Maeve looked into his eyes, trying to imagine how she would’ve gotten through this last year without Chris. She simply couldn’t imagine it. He’d been her rock. The one safe place she had whenever everything else became overwhelming. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Chris nodded back toward the apartment. “You sure everybody’s asleep?”
Maeve nodded. “Yes.”
Chris leaned toward her. “Then I say we take advantage of the quiet while we have it.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
The Draco knew where the base was. After all these years, they had finally found it. Tilda had spent the last couple of hours fortifying their security measures. At the same time, she was aware it was only a matter of time before the Draco arrived.
I should have known.
There’d been more and more intelligence reports about the Draco inserting themselves into society. They’d been buying up land, inserting themselves into various world governments. Tilda had read the reports with growing alarm, knowing that something would happen eventually. She had a meeting planned for next week with Agaren to discuss the possible ramifications and whether the Council would intervene or if it would be left entirely in human hands. But she feared the time for those conversations was well past.
The priority right now was getting everyone and everything that they could off the R.I.S.E. base. But that was not going to be an easy job.
They had been here for decades. And the security protocols in place that kept them hidden from satellites and human view could not be easily switched to a new location.
They did have other locations that they could fall back to, but Tilda wasn’t sure if she was ready to make that move yet. After all, if the Draco could find them here, they would no doubt find them at a less secure location.
So the question became: Should she cancel the evac and have them stay and fight here or leave to fight at another location?
The larger problem was where to hide the hybrids and Iggy. None of them would blend in no matter where they sent them.
Tilda scanned the sheets on the desk in front of her: All of the security protocols they put in place. All the technology that they used to keep them safe. But technology was never enough. It was always human error, or human greed in this case, that allowed the enemy to slip through their defenses.
She remembered reading something about plane crashes and human error. People often thought that as the planes aged, their technology broke down, and that was the reason for the plane crashes. But a study in 2004 found that three quarters of all fatal plane crashes could be attributed to human error.
She’d always known that human error was the one factor she could not account for. She had technicians and statisticians and analysts who could tell her what components of her security system could fail. They could identify the pitfalls and then back them up. But no one could pinpoint which human would similarly fall, or when.
Over the years, she’d contemplated who it would be. She had her people on the lookout for anyone that was going through a divorce or an uptick in gambling or some other risky behavior. Any sort of financial difficulty was enough to get someone red flagged, their file reviewed, and in most cases, they were placed on a different assignment until the situation resolved itself. But all of those people would always be under a microscope until they were ruled a non-threat.
But Ethan McCallum had never made that list. He was paid well, had no living expenses, was given free rein to and from the base. There were no red flags with him. And yet the Draco had somehow realized that he was the one weak link in their security chain.
It was a devastating turn of events, especially for Tara. Tara had first come to the base when she was only a girl of twelve. She’d been fascinated by the location and the goals of R.I.S.E. She’d been a true believer from the first day. Her parents had looked upon it as a sacred duty to protect the Earth. Tara had the same mentality.
But apparently for Ethan it was merely a job, one that did not pay him well enough.
Tilda rubbed her forehead, as if somehow she could rub away the memory of Ethan’s face. His parents would roll over in their graves if they knew.
But Ethan’s motivation was merely a distraction from the larger problem. The Draco had tried to get to R.I.S.E. multiple times over the decades. They had never gotten anywhere close. In the 1970s, she’d lost six of her people. The Draco had grabbed them and demanded they reveal the location. Not a single one of them broke.
And not a single one of them survived.
But that was the mentality that was necessary to be a member of R.I.S.E. When Tilda had been younger, when Wernher von Braun had first introduced her to the parallel space program, she’d automatically grasped its importance.
And that had been before she’d been made aware of the Draco’s existence.
She could still remember von Braun’s face when he explained about the race of creatures that lived underground. Tilda remembered the absolute terror that had shot through her at the description of them. It had been, bar none, the most terrifying day of her life.
It had also been the greatest day of her life. For that was the day she met Joseph Watson, the man who would become her husband.
Tilda stifled a yawn, the words on the sheet in front of her blurring together. She rubbed her eyes and reached for her coffee mug, but it was empty. Two hours ago, she’d brought the materials back to her apartment. She thought if she was here and a little more comfortable, it would help her stay more focused.
Unfortunately that didn’t seem to be the case. She pushed away from the desk, grabbed her mug, and headed to the kitchen. The front door opened. Adam stepped in, his gaze automatically shooting to her. “You should be in bed. You need your sleep.”
Tilda shook her head, pouring more coffee into the mug. “There’s too much to do.”
Adam crossed the room, placing his sunglasses on the counter and taking the mug from her hands. “You’ve done all you can do tonight. You need to get some sleep. Just get a few hours, okay?”
Tilda looked up into the face that she knew so well, a face that she’d known for nearly sixty years. “All right, Joseph. I’ll sleep for just a little while.”
He leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips. “Good.”
Chapter Fifty-Four
Maeve and Chris had spent the last few hours reminding each other just how important the other one was. Chris had fallen off to sleep. Maeve had fallen asleep for a short while but then had jerked awake, visions of Hank running through the base flying through her mind.
Careful not to wake Chris, she slipped from the bed. Pulling on some clothes, she made her way into the kids’ room. They were all nestled close together.
Grace lifted her head and wagged her tail slowly. Maeve walked over and ruffled her fur. “Good girl.”
Grace closed her eyes again after giving Maeve’s hand a lick. Grace dropped her head back down again, her tail still doing a lazy wag. Snap, Crackle, and Pop were all curled up together. Crackle was in the middle with the other two snuggled up tight. Alvie was next to them, lying on his side, turned toward them.
Maeve crawled up in the chair in the corner of the room. Her gaze roamed over the triplets and Alvie. They all look so peaceful, so innocent.
And the Draco wanted them dead.
Just the idea of it terrified Maeve. How was it possible that anyone could look at her four children and think of harming them?
When she and Alvie had lived together at Wright-Patterson, she’d been worried because she felt as if he was hemmed in and not allowed to live his life. But at least then she never worried about him being physically harmed. She never worried that his life was in danger. She had simply worried that he was missing out on life experienc
es.
Right now she would take the security of Wright-Pat over the mind-numbing terror of not knowing where she could possibly go with her kids if push came to shove. There was no safe port for them. Without government protection, they would be killed by the Draco. It wasn’t as if they could slip into some town and just set up house. One look at the triplets or Alvie would send people running.
Maeve ran a hand through her hair, tugging on it as she got to the ends. It was all completely overwhelming.
Her gaze drifted over to where the triplets slept. They were Alvie’s clones. It was surreal, and yet at the same time, it was her reality. She didn’t have the lengthy history with them that she had with Alvie, and yet her feelings for them were no less strong. She would risk life and limb to protect them too.
Even with that resolve, she knew her life and limb might not be enough to keep them safe. The last few months had shown them that. Martin had made it clear that he would do anything to get Alvie. His focus on the triplets was no less intense.
What was wrong with that man? What had happened to him in his life to make him so cold? Was he always like this? Or had something created him just like all of those creatures created on military bases across the United States?
And now he wasn’t even their biggest worry. The Draco, creatures Maeve hadn’t even heard of until yesterday, were after all of them as well. They wanted to destroy Alvie and the triplets because other creatures had created them as the next step in human evolution.
Maeve didn’t completely understand that, although Tilda seemed concerned. And being she wasn’t someone who often went off in wild fits of panic, she knew she should be incredibly concerned.
Maeve massaged her temples. God, why did this all have to be so difficult? Why couldn’t people just accept Alvie and the triplets? Why couldn’t they simply go out to a movie, live in a neighborhood, play with other kids? Why did different always have to equal scary?
Maybe she shouldn’t be asking what was wrong with Martin. Humans in general tended to act with fear toward the unknown. She paused, realizing that wasn’t entirely true. It was adults who acted with fear toward the unknown. Children acted with curiosity but not malice. Malice was taught.
Grace’s head jerked up from the bed, and she tilted her head toward the door. Maeve turned to look and heard a soft knocking. Grace scrambled off the bed. Maeve followed her to the front door. Grace was excitedly jumping around the front door.
Apparently not a Draco. Maeve ushered her back before opening it.
Grace bolted past Maeve and jumped on Greg. “Oh, hey. Good to see you too, Grace,” Greg whispered.
Maeve stepped back to let Greg in. “Everything all right?”
Greg nodded. “I couldn’t sleep. I thought maybe you might be up too.”
“Sadly I am. You want something to drink?”
“I wouldn’t say no.” Grace followed the two of them over to the kitchen area, accepting a few more pats from Greg before disappearing back into the room with the kids. Maeve made some tea, setting out the mugs on the small kitchenette counter. She took a sip, embracing the warmth.
Greg dumped about five teaspoons of sugar into his before taking his first sip. And then he dumped two more spoonfuls.
Maeve stared at him. “You want a little more tea with your sugar there?”
Greg flushed. “I only have tea when I’m sick. My grandmother used to make it for me. She loaded it up with sugar. It’s the only way I can take it.”
Maeve started to stand. “You want me to get you—”
“No, no. It’s good. Reminds me of Grandma. I could use that kind of reminder right now.”
Maeve knew what he meant. Anything that could distract them from the current situation and remind them of what life could be was a welcome distraction.
“So, what are you thinking about all this?” Greg asked.
Maeve took a deep breath, trying to assemble her thoughts. “Any particular aspect?”
“Oh, just pick one: the Draco anatomy, our chances for survival, R.I.S.E.’s mere existence, any other craziness that has happened over the last year?”
Maeve thought for a moment. “The Draco’s anatomy is kind of intriguing, isn’t it?”
Greg leaned forward. “I know. I mean, completely and totally terrifying, and I would be perfectly happy if the world was completely removed of their presence, but they are fascinating.”
“Did you hear anything about the test we asked to be run?”
“Nothing helpful. The DNA tests didn’t match up with anything, which was expected. I’ve got some ideas for further testing, but of course, who knows when we’ll be able to get around to that.”
Maeve knew that it was important to understand the Draco’s anatomy, but right now she just couldn’t focus on it. She needed a break from all that. “Any chance we could talk about something else? Maybe something a little lighthearted?”
Greg nodded to the corner of the living room. “Actually, I kind of feel like vegging in front of the TV. What do you think?”
Maeve smiled. She could not remember the last time she’d vegged out. There was nothing they could do right now to help any of their situations. Which meant all she would do was focus on worrying, but TV might provide the ideal distraction.
“That sounds perfect.”
Chapter Fifty-Five
The room was dark. It was two hours before dawn, but Tilda couldn’t sleep. The truth was, she’d barely slept all night, even though she had tried. Adam had insisted.
He lay quietly next to her, his face soft in sleep. It was rare for him to sleep so soundly. Ever since the two of them had gone to the ranch in Colorado and picked up Maeve and the hybrids, he had been sleeping for only an hour or two a night. But finally his body had demanded that he sleep. It was not giving him a choice.
Tilda lay on her side and stared at the man she’d first met sixty years ago. That first day in von Braun’s office, she’d thought he was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Sixty years later, he had barely changed. He was still the most beautiful creature she had ever seen. Time had left him untouched. But she’d suffered over the years. Her hair had grayed, her wrinkles had gathered, and she’d seen age take its toll year after year. She’d tried to set him free a few decades ago. She’d insisted that he needed to find someone younger, someone who looked more like him.
His words drifted through her mind again. I don’t care about any of that. I love you for who you are. As long as you stay you, then nothing else matters.
He was a good man. No, that wasn’t right. He was the most amazing man she’d ever met, and she’d met some of the greats. Wernher von Braun, JFK, intellectuals, formidable soldiers—none of them held a candle to Adam.
But she’d seen a new side of him these last few weeks. The hybrids had brought out a paternal nature in him that she hadn’t known was there. He’d connected with Penny, understanding what she needed and providing it before she even had to ask. They had never had children. Tilda wasn’t sure if the fault lay with him or with her, or maybe they just were never meant to reproduce together. But as she watched him with the young ones, she realized what a loss it was that he never had the chance to be a father.
But I suppose when I’m gone one day, he may. Because the truth was, he would be here long after she was laid in the ground to rest.
She shook her head, trying to wipe away the maudlin thoughts. It wasn’t like her to dwell on the past or to think about what could be or what should be. Since she’d started working with R.I.S.E., she’d been focused on protecting this planet. That had been her one and only goal. Everything she’d done up until this point had been for that goal.
R.I.S.E. was the last bulwark against a foe that most of the world couldn’t even conceive of. She knew if R.I.S.E. fell, the floodgates would open, and the world would never be the same again. The Draco welcomed that carnage. They wanted the world to change because they believed it meant they would rule. They had been slowly, patiently,
building their strength, waiting for the moment when they could rise up.
And in her heart, Tilda knew they thought that moment was here.
Grabbing her tablet from the side table, she slipped silently from the bed, not wanting to disturb Adam. She walked to the bathroom and quickly got changed before heading down the stairs. She checked the status of the moving protocol as she made her way to the kitchen. Everything looked to be in place. Transportation would arrive at dawn, and they would start offloading the staff.
Tilda had debated where to send everyone. They had multiple bases strewn throughout the world, but this was supposed to be the most secure. If the Draco had found them here, there was a good chance they knew of the other bases as well. Given what Ethan had said, she had to assume they did. So Tilda was going to have to separate their forces. She couldn’t let all of R.I.S.E. be grouped in one location.
They would have to separate across the globe. Once the Draco threat had been neutralized, then she would bring R.I.S.E. back together.
Neutralizing that threat was the other problem. She knew what would be required. But she hoped she would have more time to make that decision. Because once that can was opened, there was no going back.
Her thoughts drifted to Maeve Leander and her incredible relationship with the hybrids. They were the hope, the hope for the future, the hope for peace, and a warning of the dangers of failing. They had to be protected at all costs.
Tilda had known about Alvie’s existence for years. But rather than worry about what he could be the harbinger for, she’d been amazed that Alice Leander had managed to pull off the cloning. She was decades ahead of anyone else in the field. Her daughter had proved no less intelligent. But both women had also made Alvie’s emotional well-being a priority. They had nurtured his compassion along with his intelligence.
He’d sacrificed himself to save the others when Martin’s men had found them. He’d done it without hesitation. He was an amazing soul. Agaren was right—he was the best among them.
