In another clip, someone on the news was accepting interviews for a resident to join their nuclear bunker, listing all of the amenities it had and the characteristics they were looking for. It was like some terrible dating ad, especially when he started mentioning the potential need to repopulate the earth once the aliens had abandoned it. The chaos was depressing and surreal, and I felt so far removed from it all that I could’ve been watching a movie. It didn’t seem like it was happening to my planet. I wasn’t even sure it felt like my planet anymore.
“Just when you thought the human race couldn’t get any more embarrassing,” Angie mused, scooping lurid-colored cakes onto a plate and bringing them over to me. “There’s a reason we’re not allowed to join the intergalactic club, and that is it. They look like Braveheart extras.” She jabbed her finger at a bunch of cult members waggling their hands at the sky, their faces painted various shades of blue.
I laughed softly, taking a tentative bite of cake. It was sweet and spongy, the sugar hitting my tongue straightaway. “What do you think everyone else is making of all of this?”
“What, like our families?”
I nodded. “And the other kids from school. The Churnleys, too. I bet they’ve got something to say about it.”
“Well, I imagine most of the girls are using it as the perfect opportunity to take end-of-the-world selfies, and the Churnleys are probably taking it in stride. Old Mr. Churnley will be on the porch going, ‘I guess these things happen,’ while Mrs. Churnley will be in the kitchen cooking up apocalypse pies.”
“Can you imagine what social media looks like? I bet there are theories everywhere and so many hashtags.” I laughed, glad to have Angie with me. She was the perfect source of levity when everything around us felt overwhelming.
“Forget reality TV stars, an alien invasion is the kind of thing that might actually break the internet,” she quipped, practically force-feeding me more of the sugary cakes. “I bet our parents are freaking out, right? Yours, especially.”
“You think they saw?”
She shot me a look. “They’re not blind, Riley.”
“I wish I could speak to them properly, let them know I’m okay.”
She nodded sadly. “Me, too. I bet they’re calling up the FBI, trying to get some news about me. My mom will be the only woman in history to be locked up for annoying the hell out of government agents.”
“You think they’re even more worried, after what I said in that broadcast?”
“About being kidnapped?”
I nodded.
“I bet my mom has plastered the neighborhood with posters of my face—she’ll have picked the worst picture, as well. You can count on that.” She was trying to make light of it, but I could hear the pain in her voice. They were so near, yet so far away.
“Do you think we’d have freaked out, if we’d been on Earth when all of this kicked off? Like, if we weren’t the ones involved in it all?” I wondered, wanting to distract Angie from thoughts of her family.
She shrugged, an amused smile on her face. “I doubt any of this would’ve happened. Not anytime soon, anyway. My dad was right all these years—boys are nothing but trouble.”
“Especially coldblood boys.”
“Oh, yes, especially those.” She paused, looking up at the screens again. “I wish we could check social media. All they show is news channels—they don’t show anything from the internet. We could get a better idea of how people are feeling about everything.”
“Has anyone tried?” We were alone in the break room, but finding an agent wouldn’t be too hard. I figured we could always ask them to lead us to the communications center again so we might tap into Earth’s internet.
She nodded. “I asked earlier, but they told me all the systems were occupied for battle purposes. They couldn’t spare anyone to help us connect to the satellites, and they said they didn’t want to risk tampering with anything, in case it got a retaliation from Earth’s military.”
Ronad would know how to help us, if he wasn’t at death’s door, I thought miserably, knowing I should get to the med unit as soon as possible to see him.
The screens flickered, switching channels. Here, there were no funny stories or disturbing mentions of new cults and darkly comic t-shirts. Judging by the clips running now, Earth was in a state of war that it had never experienced before. Journalists were putting their necks on the line, standing in a Siberian landscape, wearing bombproof vests that would do nothing against a Vysanthean blaster. They were showing images of the nudus dome, tinged blue, though it was clear they hadn’t dared get too close. I thought of Orval, holding up the dome all by himself, pushing through the night. He must be tired by now, but the shield was still standing.
“Idiots!” Angie hissed.
“What?” I snapped my gaze toward her, worried I might have missed something.
“Those stupid idiots are talking about nuclear weapons. Why does it always have to be nuclear weapons? It’s like nobody ever learns their lesson on this planet.”
I looked to the screen she was looking at, in time to hear the newsreader say, “Many human leaders have joined the fight against the alien invaders, allying themselves with the mysterious ships that the whistleblower, Riley Ingram, has suggested they trust. So far, there have been no indications that these ships are our enemy, though it is clear that those beneath the dome, and those ships streaked with colors, are not friendly. Even so, many of our leaders have some hope toward peaceful negotiations, and plans are being made as we speak. The Universal Alliance seems to be on our side against these aggressors, though we have no further information on who these allies are—we only have these images.” A few blurry clips followed, showing vague outlines of merevins and lycans, though I wasn’t surprised that they hadn’t picked up a single Rexombra.
Still staring up at the screens, I went to the sink at the far side of the room and washed the cakes down with a large glass of water, though nothing seemed to slake my thirst. My entire mouth felt like sandpaper, my throat dry and raspy. Angie stood silently where I’d left her, her eyes flicking left to right as she followed the banners of headlines that ran along the bottom of the screens. For all her humor, she was just as troubled as the rest of us. I realized it couldn’t be easy, having to act the clown all the time, for the sake of keeping everyone else happy.
I was about to suggest we head back to the hangar when Navan entered the break room. He glanced up at the news channels, his brow furrowing in displeasure.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“Commander Mahlo wants us in her office,” he replied.
Angie flashed him a warning look. “Me, too?”
“No, just the two of us this time.”
“Oh, to be popular,” she lamented playfully.
I finished off the last dregs of my water before crossing the room to meet him. Looping my arm through his, I looked up into his eyes and smiled. “Ready when you are.”
“I’ll be with you in a minute. I just want a quick word with Angie,” he said, ushering me out into the hallway before I could protest. As he stepped back inside, I pushed lightly on the door, opening a thin crack between it and the frame. There was no way I wasn’t going to listen to whatever Navan had to say.
“What did I tell you about keeping her away from the screens?” he whispered.
“Why shouldn’t she see? You can’t wrap her up in cotton wool. She has as much right to see this as everyone else up here,” Angie fired back, making me smile. “This is her planet, after all.”
He sighed sadly. “I know… She just seems so tired. I don’t want to add to her worries.”
“I know the feeling, Navan, but she’s a grown woman. You can’t hide things from her, and, what’s more, you shouldn’t be trying. I’d kick Bashrik’s ass if he tried to swerve me away from the news channels.” Her tone was stern but kind, laced with a sisterly affection.
“Fine, but at least try not to pick a break room with so many scre
ens next time, okay?”
Angie grinned. “Now that, I can do.”
I ducked back behind the door as Navan walked back over and exited the break room, his gaze immediately seeking me out. I could understand his concerns, but Angie was right: I wouldn’t allow anyone to stop me from seeing what was happening on Earth, no matter what effect it might have on me.
“Everything okay in there?” I asked, arching a knowing eyebrow.
“Yeah, just me being overprotective, that’s all,” he muttered.
“You don’t want me seeing the news channels?”
He grimaced. “Only because I feel somehow responsible, every time I see you looking at them.”
“What do you mean?” It wasn’t the answer I’d expected from him. “You didn’t cause any of this, any more than me, or Angie, or Ronad, or anyone else did.”
He cast me a remorseful glance. “We could have prevented all of this if we’d tried harder. I was so concerned with keeping this place a secret that I didn’t realize we were missing an opportunity. If I’d only asked Bashrik and Ronad to get in a ship as soon as we found out about the rebel base, we could’ve gone to the Fed and forced them to fight. Or, we could have infiltrated the base ourselves and done something about Orion before he got too strong—before he made any advancements with the elixir.”
I lifted my hands to his face, making him look at me. “Hey, hey, hey, enough of that. There’s no point dwelling on what we could’ve done. We’ve got to stop thinking about the past and look toward what we can do with the future.”
“I know… It’s just hard not to think of what I might’ve done differently,” he conceded, with a weary sigh. “Although, I’m glad I have your eternal optimism to take my mind off it.”
I smiled. “You coldbloods really are a gloomy bunch.”
“We are.” He chuckled as he lifted my hand to his lips, kissing it gently. “Now, come on, we better not keep Commander Mahlo waiting.”
He interlaced his fingers with mine, holding my hand as we set off down the hallway, heading for Commander Mahlo’s office. I wondered, as we walked, whether he’d have done any of this differently, given the choice again—whether he’d have truly avoided me, had he known where it would lead. I knew I wouldn’t change any of the events that had brought us together, my anxious heart comforted by the sensation of his wedding ring grazing my skin.
As long as we had each other, we could get through anything.
Chapter Fifteen
We knocked on the door of Commander Mahlo’s office and stepped inside, Navan’s hand still holding mine. The commander was sitting behind her desk, staring at a transparent, flat device that had symbols and numbers cascading downward in a never-ending stream. She looked up as we entered, her glassy eyes taking a moment to register who we were. It looked like she hadn’t slept in days, her reactions slow, her shoulders slumped.
“Yes… I called you both here, didn’t I?” she muttered, though it seemed like it was more for her benefit than ours.
“You said you needed to discuss something important with us,” Navan prompted, as we walked across the room and sat down in the chairs opposite her. A weary sigh heaved from her lungs as she sat back in her seat, setting the flat device to one side. From the sour look she flashed it as she put it down, I imagined they were details of wins and losses, and the state the combined fleets were in. I didn’t get the feeling that the readings were good.
She peered at us both uncertainly. “Yes, I did, didn’t I? Thank you, Navan.”
“What did you want to discuss? Our retaliation in a couple of days?” I could see he was trying to feed her information so she could piece together why the hell she’d asked us here. Her brain appeared to be even foggier than mine, even though mine felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls.
She shook out her body, flexing her neck from side to side, before her features settled into a mask of calmness. “I’ve just received vital information regarding the shield-bearers and how their locations were discovered,” she explained.
I instantly brightened. “What have you heard?”
“I’m getting to that,” she said curtly, clearly not appreciating the interruption. “Ever since the first shield-bearer got taken out, we suspected it had something to do with your human governments, just as you did. Navan informed me about the sniper you found in the rebel base during our debrief and the conclusions you gathered from his presence. At first, we thought they might have somehow triangulated the bearers’ locations by following the spread of the shield’s arcs, but we realized fairly quickly that it would have taken them far longer to reach the locations, had that been the case.”
“So, how did they do it?” I pressed, gaining another sharp look from Commander Mahlo.
“Their methods were much simpler. They’d been aware of us for some time and had found an opportunity to wiretap one of our agents at Surface HQ. His name is Farl. Now, of course, we did not know they had wiretapped our agent. We did not even know they were aware of our presence on Earth.”
Navan and I exchanged a look. We both knew that name. Searching through my memory, I found a blurry picture of him—a cold-faced, angry lycan with coral eyes and a vicious vendetta against both of us.
“Farl?” Navan spoke first.
Commander Mahlo nodded. “Yes, we’re still deciding on an appropriate punishment for him, concerning the lax behavior that led to this. You see, he had grown extremely careless about the discretion of our work here, since losing his brother some time ago. Lyon was the brother’s name—another agent here, who was found dead in the line of duty. He wasn’t the same after that, and we did our best to give him easy tasks that didn’t require much effort, but he must have behaved more recklessly than we could have anticipated. Evidently, he did something that drew the attention of Earth’s government and got himself tapped.” She didn’t sound impressed.
I saw a guilty gulp move down Navan’s throat, making his Adam’s apple bob. “If it’s possible, I’d like the opportunity to speak with Farl,” he said.
I understood his remorse. Lyon was the agent Navan had killed while stashing his stuff below ground in Alaska. The lycan had taken Navan by surprise, leaving him with no choice but to act in self-defense. I remembered Farl telling me the story of how his brother had last been seen in Alaska, his twisted features sneering down at me as he recounted it, his voice dripping venom as he told me how brave and just his brother had been… and how, one day, he hadn’t reported back to headquarters. I’d known then how the story ended, and even through my fear of Farl, I’d felt sorry for his loss. Grief makes people do crazy things.
The commander shrugged. “Do as you please. If you find yourself with a spare moment, I am sure one of the agents can take you to his cell, though you won’t get much out of him. He’s decided to take a personal vow of silence, seemingly just to bring us further inconvenience.”
“I’ll do what I can, Commander.”
She paused, visibly taking a deep breath in. “Truly, despite his grief, we did not anticipate a transgression like this. It’s lucky we discovered this when we did. Otherwise, the entire plan of retaliation might have been at risk. These human leaders are saying they trust our assistance, for now, but there is no telling whether they might turn on us or try to stand in our way.”
“We’re not very good at making our minds up,” I said apologetically. “We don’t like change very much, either.”
“It would appear not, Captain Idrax, though you are a credit to your species. If they were all like you and your human friends, we might not be in this predicament.” A small smile curved up the corners of her grim-set mouth. I didn’t imagine she’d had much to smile about lately.
“Thank you, Commander. I assure you we’re not all like our leaders. I’m sure it’s the same all over the universe.”
“You’re not wrong,” Navan mused. “Now, was that all you wanted to tell us, Commander? You look like you could do with some rest, and we’d hate to take up m
ore of your valuable time.”
She shook her head, her smile fading rapidly. “No, unfortunately there’s more. I received a private transmission from Orion’s second in command, Ezra, earlier today. He wanted to discuss a potential negotiation between the rebels and the Fed.”
I rolled my eyes. “What did he want?”
“He wanted Orion in exchange for some of the Fed and human prisoners. He did not specify exact numbers, but he promised that a considerable number would be returned.”
Navan glanced at me, frowning with suspicion. “But we broke our deal last time. Why would he want to do business with us again, offering an even higher reward, knowing we might betray his trust a second time?”
The commander shrugged. “A faction is only as good as their leader. Without Orion, they must be floundering, with the rebel forces going into a state of panic. After all, they can’t leave their nudus dome to retrieve Orion themselves, because they won’t be able to return unless they drop the shield. This way, they do not have to risk coming out of their hiding place to get him back.”
I shook my head, unconvinced. “Ezra has been around them just as long as Orion has—without Orion, they’d look to him instead. This can’t be worth their while… You’ve got to admit this all sounds fishy.”
Navan nodded. “Yeah, there’s definitely something amiss here.”
“I think both of you are correct—there is something very wrong with all of this—but we have little choice in the matter. Orion is our only source of leverage, especially if those rebels continue to hide away, so this may be our only hope of getting some of our soldiers back.” She paused, sighing. “And if we can free some humans at the same time, that only reinforces our need to do this, regardless of the… fishiness.”
Invaders_Hotbloods 7 Page 12
