Bertie touches my shoulder. “So do you. That’s why you’ll be the first one through the portal.”
Huh. She has a point—about the portal. It’s my crazy idea after all. And while I know it’ll work, no one else really does. Oh, they believe me, but they don’t believe me with utter conviction. There’s still a niggle of doubt that will be there until they witness it for themselves. I’m not upset. I’m just a little tired of always being the one who presents these impossible things—shadow-blobs, ghost Warriors, a sentient Q-net, and now portals. If Jarren didn’t mess with the Warrior network, I’d be…
Where would I be? Probably complaining about soch-time, doing my homework, and avoiding Niall, the jerk. Or I’d be in detention due to being caught worming. My life is actually better now, but in the worst way. Does that make sense?
“Hello?” Bertie waves a hand in front of my face. “Where did you go?”
“To an alternate dimension,” I say.
“Oh? Would I like it there?” She’s half teasing.
We continue on to her lab. I tell her what I’d been thinking about.
“Nothing changed?”
“Nope. The Warrior mystery is still unsolved. No HoLFs.”
“That is quite the conundrum. All these discoveries are very important. But at what cost? All of our lives?” She taps a long slender finger on her lips. “There’s probably another dimension out there where Jarren didn’t interfere and we still made all these discoveries.”
“Does this mean you’re warming to the idea of multiple dimensions?” I ask.
“Let’s just say I’m not ruling it out.”
“I can live with that.”
She laughs. But once we arrive at her lab, she’s turns serious as she adjusts the detector we’d installed in the pits to find out if the HoLFs emitted any energy. It saved us and I’ve the desire to praise the cube of metal. Instead, I scoot about the lab on a chair with wheels and fetch her supplies and tools. It’s kind of fun.
When she finishes the modifications, I message Radcliff that we’re on the way to the port. The detector isn’t big, but she sets it on a hand cart. We get to the port and I go in first and stop. There’s no wall on the right side. Just twisted, mangled metal struts and wires blowing in the cool night breeze.
The peppery anise scent of the desert fills the air, while sand is already encroaching on the floor. It crunches under the rubber knobs of my crutches as I swoop toward the shuttle. Bertie hurries, keeping close. I don’t blame her. It’s weird and eerie and unnerving.
Bertie carries the detector into the shuttle. She heads for the cockpit. I find out that I can’t swoop up the steps. Instead, I have to use one crutch to limp-hop. It’s not graceful. At all. But I manage and squeeze through the narrow aisle to join her. She’s sitting in the pilot’s chair so I plop into the co-pilot’s seat.
She’s staring at the array of controls. “I’m not sure where the communication panel is. I don’t want to power up the entire shuttle.”
Q? Can you help?
A schematic of the instrument panel appears in my head. All the various buttons and dials are all labeled, including the one for the comms. Thanks. I point it out to Bertie.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Then I add, “I watched Officer Morgan fly the shuttle.”
That seems to satisfy her and she fiddles with the controls and her detector box. Niall arrives a few minutes later carrying another box. This one contains the communicators. Bertie does her stuff and I hop to the back of the shuttle to talk to Niall.
Dark smudges of fatigue line his eyes, but he smiles. “Any trouble, Mouse?”
“No. Why aren’t you still asleep?”
“I had four hours. Considering the situation, that’s decadent. Besides, I’m relieving Beau, who is finally getting a chance to get a shower and grab a few hours of sleep.”
“Since it’s for Beau, that’s okay.”
“Uh huh. Does that mean Beau’s more important than me?”
I squint at him. Is he teasing? Is he serious? “Well, he is my partner. You’re not jealous are you?” I’m erring on the side of teasing.
Before Niall can answer, Q sounds in my head.
INCOMING MESSAGES FROM PLANET PINGLIANG.
We’re supposed to be dead and can’t receive them.
THEY ARE URGENT.
Can you send them to Radcliff’s portable without anyone knowing?
YES.
Please, do. Then I’m curious. How urgent? Are they okay?
NO. THEY ARE UNDER ATTACK.
Thirteen
2522:268
Niall notices my stricken expression. “Mouse? What’s wrong?”
“Pingliang is under attack!” I limp-hop up to the cockpit. “Bertie, how much longer do you need?”
She has one of the communicators in her ear. “They’re connecting, but I don’t have a frequency yet. Another hour or so. Why?”
“I need to talk to Officer Radcliff.” I turn. “Niall, can you stay with Bertie?”
The muscles along his jaw tighten. “What are you planning?”
“I’m going to try to convince him to send back up to Pingliang.”
Even though I haven’t moved, he blocks my way. “Promise you’re not going without me.” It didn’t take him long to make the leap in logic.
And I don’t think he’s wrong to assume that. “I promise.”
“Good,” he says. “Because I am the jealous type.”
Not a surprise.
Bertie is glancing at both of us. “She can’t go with that ankle.”
“I can walk. I’ve just been resting it.” Plus I have plenty of pain meds. “I’ll keep you updated.”
Niall helps me from the shuttle and I swoop at speed to Radcliff’s office. He’s sitting behind his desk and my momentum propels me forward so that I almost do a face-plant before skidding to a stop.
“Something wrong?” he asks.
“Pingliang is—”
“Did you read my messages?”
“No. Q told me they’re in trouble.”
“I’m aware.” His tone is flat, but not because he doesn’t care.
No, he cares. By the way his shoulders sag and the exhaustion etched into his face, I know he’s overwhelmed. I can’t remember if he’s slept since the attack two days ago.
“We need to go and help them,” I say.
“We? We who? We don’t have a single person to spare.”
“Bring up more techs—I’m sure there are a few brave ones willing to help. We need to go. Or else they’ll all die! We have the null wave emitters, the element of surprise, and their communicators.”
Radcliff scrubs his hands through his short hair. If it was longer, I’d bet he would fist his fingers in the strands and yank on it. Instead, he lets his arms drop to his lap. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“I do. Assign Beta team to Pingliang. Leave Alpha team here. It’ll be a short detour for Beta team if you enact Operation Desperation.”
“Do you even have that ready?”
“Yes…mostly.” I give him the run down.
“Planet Ruijin. They could be next on the looters’ attack list.”
Good point. Q? Is there a blockade-in-progress around Ruijin?
NO. THERE ARE SOME NEW PROTOCOLS GOING AROUND QINGYANG.
“They’re not. Qingyang is next. You need to warn them.”
Radcliff sweeps a hand over his portable. “It doesn’t seem to matter. They’re outnumbered.” He rubs the scruff on his chin. “The looters probably changed the frequency on their communicators, the ones we have won’t work.”
“They think we’re dead so they wouldn’t bother.”
“I can’t assign Beta team. It could be a suicide mission. And there’s a chance of being separated from their families. No. I can’t do that.”
“Then ask for volunteers. I volunteer.”
“Then Niall will as well.”
Oh. Right. “The l
ooters won’t be expecting us to come through the portals. That’ll be huge! A super element of surprise.” And then I get an idea. One of those genius moves that just pops into my head. I explain it to Radcliff. “It’s Operation Desperation with a Final Kick.”
Radcliff places his elbows on the desk and rests his forehead in his hands. Did I just break him? We really don’t have time for this. We need to open up Pit 7. Q, Can you access Pingliang’s camera feeds?
YES.
And the base’s code?
YES.
“What are you scheming, Lawrence?” Radcliff asks.
“Just working on the operation for Planet Pingliang,” I say.
“I haven’t agreed to anything.”
“You will. Because you know it’s the right thing to do.”
Just then Morgan arrives. She’s alert and looks ready for anything. “What’s up, Boss?” she asks. Radcliff must have messaged her.
“Lawrence has an idea. And I need a second opinion because my brain is fried.” He leans back, gesturing for me to enlighten her.
I do it as fast as possible.
There’s a moment of silence. Then she says, “I’ll lead the team. Lawrence, contact your parents to open Pit 7 and wake the Warriors ASAP. I’ll find volunteers to fill out the rest of our team.”
“Niall,” Radcliff says. “He’ll volunteer.”
Morgan waits. I hold my breath. If Radcliff refuses to let Niall go, I can’t go either.
He meets my gaze, then looks at Morgan. “You’ll need three other officers and see if you can get some techs or scientists to volunteer as well. I’ll put together a supply list for you. Check your portable in thirty.”
“Yes, sir.” Morgan leaves.
“Thanks,” I say to Radcliff. It’s weak and inadequate. He may never see Niall again.
He grunts. “Don’t you have work to do?”
“Yes, sir.” I swoop out and head to my unit. I need to pack my ruck. While on the way I ask Q to send a message to my parents about Pit 7. Despite the late hour, I know they’ll be awake. Then I send one to Niall, telling him to return to security and to bring those communicators with him. And Bertie, if she’s done.
Radcliff mentioned a supply list. It might help him know what we need if he can see what’s going on at Pingliang. And the man’s pretty good with strategy. Q, can you please link Officer Radcliff’s portable to the camera feeds in Pingliang’s base?
ON IT.
Radcliff is about to get a surprise. My ruck is almost complete, I just have to toss a few more items into it, including the small drawing of the mouse and toad that Niall gave me. Glancing around to make sure I didn’t miss anything, I pause. Too bad I can’t take Niall’s mother’s paintings with me. They’re beautiful works of art that can never be replaced. More incentive to stop the looters from sending another missile to our base.
I take two more pain meds, shrug on my heavy ruck, and leave my crutches in the room. Time to test the new brace. A few twinges of pain ring my ankle as I hurry out of the unit and into the hallway, where I almost run into Niall.
“Once you’ve picked up the supplies on your list, we’re to meet in the port,” Niall says as he opens the door to his unit.
“My list?”
“On your portable.”
Q shows me a message from Radcliff with items listed. But I follow Niall inside.
“Shouldn’t you be gathering supplies?”
“I will. I want you to touch that heart.” I hold up a hand. “You’re coming along and we might be fighting HoLFs.”
“All right.” Niall fetches the cloth bag. “All I have to do is touch it, right?”
“Yes. It’ll feel like you’ve been stabbed by an icicle.”
“Thanks for the warning.” He reaches his hand inside and flinches. “Wow, that’s accurate. And it just turned into a pile of dust.” Removing his hand, he looks at his palm. Black grit from the heart coats his skin. He rubs his thumb over his fingers, frowning at it. “Guess I’m a little sweaty from the run over here. I better clean up and pack. See you at the port.”
I give him a quick kiss and leave. My list is short and I’m guessing Radcliff gave each of us a few things. I’m not the first to arrive at the port. Morgan is there, barking orders and loading up a dune buggy. A couple techs help. They’re the ones who have been transporting people between the base and the evacuation pits.
When I join Morgan to help, I ask, “Who else volunteered?”
“Bendix, Zaim, and Keir.”
Not a surprise, but I thought Beau would as well.
“Dorey wanted to come, but Radcliff won’t let him,” Morgan says, reading my mind. “We need him here to work with the Q-net while you’re gone.”
Ah. Then it’s a blur of activity as everyone arrives with more supplies and their rucks. We load up. There’s not enough seats, so most of us sit on the supplies in the back bed. Morgan drives to Pit 7 at maximum speed, causing us to hang on for dear life. The night air is brisk, which wakes everyone up. I breathe in the fresh scent of the desert and hope it won’t be my last time on Planet Yulin.
Pit 7 isn’t far from base. We get there in fifteen minutes. There’s another buggy parked and we pull up beside it and start to unload. A green pulsing light is emanating from a hole in the sand.
“Green. Seriously?” Bendix says in a dry tone. “Isn’t that an alien cliché? An otherworldly green glow?”
“You’re thinking of the little green men from Mars,” Elese says.
“The old movies always show aliens with green skin,” Zaim says. “Why green and not some other color?”
“Maybe they thought aliens use a form of photosynthesis for nutrients,” Niall adds.
“Instead they’re black blobs. Not nearly as photogenic,” I say and basically kill the conversation.
A robotic digger squats nearby and there’s a ladder in the hole. And a gust of stale air mixed with the scent of damp mold flows out. Humming beside the digger is an air pump bringing in fresh air. We climb down and I keep my head bent so I don’t get sand in my eyes from the people’s boots on the ladder above me. Some lessons are hard to forget. The lesson of don’t-climb-a-ladder-with-a-half-healed-broken-ankle is my current one. Especially not with a heavy ruck on your back. And I’m not even carrying a null wave emitter like the others. Bendix is lugging two.
The green light stops pulsing by the time we reach the floor of the pit. It’s now a steady glow, illuminating the terracotta Warriors. They stand in precise rows and columns that would make the shape of an octagon if you were to look down on them from above. Tall at an average of one hundred and ninety centimeters, they are all Chinese with their hair styled in warrior knots. Each one is unique. The Warriors stare straight ahead. The General is the tallest one with an armored jacket and ribbons on his uniform.
The other officers make another trip up the ladder for the rest of our supplies. We have a wheeled cart to bring them along with us. When all our equipment is either in the cart or clipped onto us—Bendix gives me the extra emitter—we head toward the gap in the center of the octagon. It’s an empty spot that’s big enough to fit four Warriors. The archeologists used to wonder what it was for, but now we all know.
My mom, dad, and a half-dozen techs wait for us near the gap, but not in the very center. Because a solid black rectangle about two meters high and a meter wide is occupying that precise spot. The bottom of the portal touches the sand.
“There’s nothing on the other side,” Mom says, gesturing to the portal. “Last time you saw a person?”
I dig out my portable. Pulling up the camera feeds for the Pingliang pits, I check Pit 15. “That’s because there’s nothing there to see.” I peer closer—it’s hard to discern shapes in the feeds with the green light all around us. “I think only the emergency lights are on in Pingliang.”
“Are you using the Q-net now?” Dad asks. “Should we expect the looters to launch another missile?”
“No. I’ve a hidden c
onnection. But Officer Radcliff has a plan to get you all to Planet Ruijin. He’ll explain everything to you,” I add to save time.
Morgan is also looking at her portable. She glances up. “Who’s coming with us?” she asks Mom.
“Me and the techs. Spencer is going to stay here and oversee the evacuation.”
“Mom, you might not be able to get back to Dad,” I say.
“We know. We discussed it.”
I stare at her and I raise my eyebrows in an are-you-really-sure-about-this? She gives me a squint that says there’s-no-way-you’re-going-without-me.
“Listen up,” Morgan says to the group. “I’m in charge. You follow my orders and my orders only. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” from all the officers.
The techs chime in a beat later and not nearly as confident.
“We’re going to go through and head toward the entrance to the base. It’s the exact same set-up as here, except they have all sixty-four of their pits excavated,” Morgan says. “I’ll take point and Officer Bendix will be last.” She arranges the rest of us in a line.
I’m surprised to be given the spot right behind her; then it’s Niall, my mother, two techs, Elese, two more techs, Zaim, the last two techs, and Bendix. One of the techs—a young guy so skinny that a stiff breeze could probably blow him over—is put in charge of the cart and is second to last.
Morgan approaches the portal, then turns to me. “Lawrence, make sure I’m on Pingliang and have given you a thumbs-up before you cross. Understand?”
“Yes, but—”
“But what?” she demands.
“I should go first. It’s my idea, and if it’s goes horribly wrong, I want to be the one for it to go wrong on.” Otherwise the guilt would kill me.
“I’m in charge, Lawrence. I go first.”
Officer Sioux Morgan glances at the team, nods, and strides into the blackness as if walking to the cafeteria. As if she isn’t making history for the good guys or potentially committing suicide. We all gasp when she completely disappears.
The green glow pulses again, pushing out in waves from the center of the octagon to the edges like ripples in a pond. There’s no sound except the harsh rasp of our collective breaths. I glance at my portable, but there’s nothing to see in Pingliang’s pit.
Defending the Galaxy: The Sentinels of the Galaxy Page 21
