Hunt for the Garde Part 2

"I need strong soldiers."

"For what?" I ask. "To retrieve more subjects for you? I'm not a delivery service."

"Of course not," he says with a slight smirk. He starts on my other hand. "I misspoke. He needs you. I'm working on something for Beloved Leader-a project he is most interested in. A new way to arm our troops."

"He's developed new augmentations?" I ask.

"Something like that. But only the strongest among us will be able to wield his new weapons. Not just trueborn, but those with physical and mental strength. Endurance. And loyalty."

He looks me in the eyes.

"That's you, Phiri," he says. "Before he flew to the Sanctuary, Beloved Leader left me with very specific plans and goals concerning the future of Mogadorian Progress, and I know that nothing would make him happier than to emerge from the vats with a new force to command. Will you serve our glorious commander and ascend to the level he requires of you?"

I stare back at him, trying to process what he's saying. But in the end, I know there is only one answer to this question.

"I will do whatever Beloved Leader asks of me."

"I was hoping you'd say that," he says as he finishes bandaging my other hand. "I'll begin the preparations at once. I'll send for you when I'm ready. Go get some rest." He grins. "Evolution can be a painful process."

CHAPTER FIVE.

AFTER MEETING WITH ZAKOS, I HEAD TO MY OLD quarters at the mountain base. It holds none of my personal belongings other than a few old uniforms and a dog-eared copy of the Great Book. And yet it feels good to be back there after so many nights camped out in Mexico, wondering how the h.e.l.l I was going to break through the Sanctuary's force field. On the small bed in the room I sleep the deep, dreamless sleep of one who has been running on nothing but adrenaline for days.

I've barely woken the next morning when Dr. Zakos sends for me. It's well past sunrise. I know my body needed the rest, but I still feel lazy, like I should have been awake at dawn and doing something, anything, to help the invasion move forward.

I catch myself in the mirror before heading to the lab. My eye isn't as swollen as it was but has begun to bruise, turning one side of my face into a mixture of purples, yellows and deep blacks. My mind flashes with thoughts of being tied up in Mexico, beaten by Adamus and Six.

I promise myself that if I ever see them again, I will bleed them slowly, making them watch helplessly as their friends die in front of them before I even begin to consider gifting the two of them the release of death. Not for the disgrace they caused me by taking me as their prisoner, but for the injuries they inflicted on Beloved Leader. They will pay dearly.

Someone has cleaned up the blood in Dr. Zakos's lab, but he's not around. I loiter there for a few minutes, letting my eyes run over the various notes and doc.u.ments littering his workstation: designs for new monsters, potential weapon upgrades, scrawlings about the humans who've developed Loric powers.

I'm interrupted by a ragged gasp behind me.

I turn on my toes and draw my blaster in one fluid motion. From the end of my weapon I see the red-haired girl on the metal slab. She looks different than she did yesterday. She's paler, and her cheeks are sunken in. Her lips move, but no words come out, and unlike before, her eyes are open-big and green and bloodshot, staring off into s.p.a.ce.

I step over to her side. There are all sorts of new contraptions around her bed, big pieces of machinery and computational equipment with needles, tubes and electrodes hanging from them. I crouch beside her.

"Lucky little human," I say. "You have no idea what an honor it is to be in your position. Whatever Beloved Leader and Dr. Zakos have planned for you will surely make our armies stronger, speeding up Mogadorian Process and the invasion of your planet. Any pain you endure in this laboratory is for the greater good of my people. You should consider yourself fortunate: unlike most humans, your death will have meaning."

When I finish, her eyes suddenly jerk towards me, wide and full of terror. I smile, knowing she's heard me. That she understands.

She takes another gasping breath, and then her eyelids flutter and she falls unconscious again. That's when I hear a voice filtering into the room from the vats. I go through the door and am immediately hit by the same sulfuric smell as yesterday, even stronger now.

"Dr. Zakos," I say, and then I register what's happening in front of me.

Zakos stands in his white lab coat over one of the dark pools. He's got an electronic tablet in his hands. In the vat below him is Beloved Leader, submerged up to his shoulders in black ooze. His face is covered with a slick coat of the dense liquid.

"Beloved Leader," I say, dropping to my knees with such force that for a second I think I may have cracked my kneecaps. "Forgive me; I didn't mean to intrude."

"Rise, Phiri Dun-Ra," he says, his voice a deep bellow filling the room.

"Ah, there you are," Zakos says. He raises the tablet in his hands. "I was just updating our ill.u.s.trious commander as to the state of his fleet and everything that's happened in the last few hours. Including your flight from Mexico."

"You took control of the Anubis when I was . . ." My leader pauses. "When I was indisposed."

"I did . . ." I hesitate. "I acted as your voice. There was chaos where there should have been order, and I tried to rectify that and act in your interests. I know that I had no right to do this and offer my life as-"

"You have done well, Phiri," he says, cutting me off. "In fact, I have plans for you. Call it a reward. By my design, Dr. Zakos has developed a new form of augmentation. I want you to be his first test subject."

"Me?"

"Who better than one who has shown she will stop at nothing to prove her loyalty? The process will be painful. It may push you to the brink of death. I need someone with the will to survive, to endure-to serve as my voice while I mend myself here. My voice, and my fist. We're going to make you stronger, unbeatable, and in doing so you will become the face of this world's end. You'll emerge from this process renewed, my most powerful weapon."

My heart pumps in my chest. Something rushes through me, a feeling of contentment and joy unlike anything I've ever felt.

"All you have to do is make it through the process alive," he says.

I try to speak without my voice shaking. For a moment, I remember the blood and flesh on the lab table yesterday. That could be me, the first to test this new augmentation.

But it is his will.

"It is my purpose to serve you, Beloved Leader. Thank you for honoring me in this way, despite my failure to capture the Loric fleeing the Sanctuary."

He lets out a few short laughs.

"Don't concern yourself with the Loric right now, Phiri Dun-Ra. Their fate is sealed. I've foreseen the end of the Garde and their allies. Their downfall will come from within." His lips curl up into a smile, dripping black ooze over his sharp, gray teeth. "I haven't just been healing down here in the dark. I've been dreaming."

Before I can get any sort of explanation of what that means, he begins to sink back into the vat.

"A few more hours, I think," he says to Zakos before the ooze rises above his lips. "Then I want to see how our new soldier has turned out."

"Of course, Beloved Leader."

And then he's completely covered.

Once he's disappeared, I can hardly contain myself. I realize that I've been holding my breath, and letting it out causes my vision to momentarily go hazy as a rush of adrenaline jolts through me.

I am the voice of Beloved Leader. I am the fist that will smash the Loric, and then the humans. I am fulfilling my purpose.

When I finally look up, Zakos is standing over me. He's stowed the tablet in one of his big lab coat pockets and now holds what looks like a bone saw in one hand. He points to the door of his lab with it.

"Well then," he says. "You heard Beloved Leader. He's pleased with you and looks forward to seeing how I might be able to improve upon your abilities. So . . ." He grins. "Shall we begin?"

PART TWO.

VINTARO SHABA

CHAPTER SIX.

HUMANS ARE WEAK PIECES OF KRAUL s.h.i.+T.

At least the Loric put up a fight.

I was new to war when we invaded Lorien. Practically fresh out of the vats. Raised and trained to annihilate an entire civilization. There was a blaster in my hand as soon as my fingers could curl around the trigger. I was part of the youngest batch to fight in the invasion. We had one directive: to live the words of the Great Book. Conquer. Consume. Cauterize. To make Beloved Leader proud.

Hail our Beloved Leader!

We were told that the Loric were a people who upheld peace above all else. But they didn't accept their fates without resistance. The so-called Garde-the Loric with powers-fought hard. I lost half my squad to a girl shooting lasers out of her hands and a man who could control flames-and those weren't even the strangest things I saw that day. But the Garde didn't live up to their purpose. They failed to protect their planet and their people. Of course they did. They had no chance against us. Against me. But they died honorably, fighting until their last breaths.

Most of them, that is. I destroyed buildings where Loric cowards were holed up, hiding and praying to their useless leaders. Hoping someone would save them, or that we'd just keep on moving and forget about them.

I'm not sure how long it took for the planet to fall. Everything happened in a blur of bombs, blaster fire and blood. And then it was over. What I do know is that the fight was finished too soon. When we left Lorien, I felt feral, like I could have spent the rest of my years torching that planet's fields, destroying its cities-or better yet, pulling the last of the survivors from their hiding places and slitting their throats in Beloved Leader's name.

Instead, our s.h.i.+ps finished off the planet, destroying any hint of life that managed to survive our a.s.sault. And Setrkus Ra was pleased.

Forever may he reign!

Afterwards I was sent to Earth. In many ways, it's a combination of Mogadore and Lorien, inhabited by a people who somehow wors.h.i.+p peace and war in equal measure. At first, I had high hopes. I thought I was lucky to be stationed here. That the humans would make worthy prey.

They don't, for the most part. They submit. They're easy to control. I've found no sport in dominating them, no thrill in the victory of beating them.

Here on this blue-and-green planet I've been working in the shadows for years, long before we made our presence known. I was one of the many sent to seek out the last of the Garde, who proved to be much better at hiding than they were at fighting. Because of this, I've learned all about the humans. I had to, in order to disguise myself and blend into the population when needed. I've faced them head-to-head as I've hunted the remaining Loric, intimidated people of power into joining us and silenced those who saw too much. In all these years, I hardly ever broke much of a sweat. Even when torturing people for intel-like those who unknowingly harbored Garde or tried to alert the humans to our presence-they gave up information so easily. I never really got to work them over. Or if I did, it was just for fun, after they'd told me everything I wanted to know already.

I'd thought everything would change when our wars.h.i.+ps descended over their cities. I guess it did in some places where the humans and the Garde actively fought against us. Not in Chicago where I'm stationed, though: where I led a squad of soldiers in a raid on a Garde safe house not long ago, collecting one of Beloved Leader's most valued targets. Here we allow them to evacuate because Beloved Leader-Praise his name!-has plans for this planet, maybe even its people. It is not Lorien. We are not here only to destroy. I do not question his reasoning. I know it to be infallible.

And so I've been on patrol, stamping out small pockets of resistance ever since we showed the humans the true face of their masters. A handful of police officers here, a mob of angry students there. A couple of people desperately trying to get out of the city-who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time-just to keep my blood pumping.

What I wouldn't give to be in one of the cities where there's a real fight going on. I can feel it in my muscles and bones. The need to fire my blaster and swing my blades. To hold my enemies up by the throat and look into their eyes before finis.h.i.+ng them off. I actually miss the old days, before we made ourselves known. I miss the thrill of the hunt. I miss the sweat of battle and the feeling of someone's pulse when their neck is in my hands. I crave carnage and bloodshed. Anything but the boredom of dealing with humans.

Which is why, when I receive word that my captain wants to see me in the council room of our wars.h.i.+p a few days after we stopped over Chicago, I can't help but run my tongue over my teeth and hope that he's giving me a chance to do some real damage. To get back in the fight and end all this waiting around. Not to mention the fact that to be in the presence of the s.h.i.+p's captain is an honor in itself. I'm a vatborn squad leader-someone who has proven his worth in battle-but my orders still come from lower-level trueborn officers.

I take a Skimmer up to the wars.h.i.+p and wait in the council room with two other vatborn veterans. They've got scars on their faces, and one of them is missing several teeth. They've seen action. They're good soldiers.

We stand shoulder to shoulder as we wait. None of us speculates as to why we've been summoned. At least not out loud. We'll know soon enough, and then we'll carry out our orders. Swiftly. Mercilessly. We'll make our comrades proud.

The captain enters and sizes us up, nodding to himself as if to approve of the selection before him. He says our names. We step forward when called. I am last.

"Vintaro shaba." The captain pauses for a second. "Why have you chosen this name for yourself?"

He means my first name. Like all vatborn, my last name is taken from the place I was created.

"'Vintaro' in the old tongue means 'to raze.' That is what drives me."

The captain smirks a little. He seems to like this.

"I've called you here for a special mission," he says, beginning to pace back and forth in front of us. "Ever since it came to the attention of Beloved Leader that some humans have begun to exhibit Garde-like powers, your squads have been on the lookout for such specimens on the ground. He-in his infinite wisdom-would like to examine a few of these tainted humans himself. From now on, we're taking a more proactive approach to collecting such prisoners. I'm told you three are some of the best of my vatborn on this s.h.i.+p."

I grunt, nodding my head in agreement but keeping my eyes on the floor.

"Your jobs are simple. You'll each lead infiltration squads and find these Loric-powered humans. Our recon officer will supply you with leads. You have whatever resources you need available to you. Though, remember: we're to uphold the 'peace' we promised to the cities who don't resist us." He shows off a row of gray teeth. "Keep your mayhem in the dark."

"Sir!" we all say in unison.

He makes for the door, telling us that more information will be given to us soon and that our squads have already been chosen. They are awaiting our orders. He's about to step into the hallway when he stops.

"One more thing," he says, turning back to us. "It's crucial that the subjects are alive when you bring them back." He pauses for a moment, shrugging. "Anyone who stands in your way is expendable. Now, you're dismissed. Get back down to the barracks and begin your preparations. I want you deployed as soon as the recon officer shares her intel with you."

When the door closes behind him, I grin. I can't help it.

Humans with Loric powers. I don't really know how that's possible, and I don't care. I don't have to understand. All I know is that I have a mission. I'm back in the fight, and no prey will escape me.

It's time to go hunting.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

A FEW HOURS AFTER THE CAPTAIN IS DONE WITH us, the recon officer sends a list of names and locations to each squad leader's tablet. We divide the targets based on location. I a.s.semble my men. They talk quietly to each other. I don't join in or bother to figure out who is who. It doesn't matter what they call themselves-I'll learn their names when they're telling stories of our victories in the future. When they've proven themselves. All these troops have to do is follow my orders. And they will. It's what we were born to do, what will win his favor.

Hail our Beloved Leader! Forever may he reign!

Our first target is a teenager in a wealthy suburb north of Chicago who has been talking on some form of internet media about how he just made his computer float across the room. There are a few photos pulled from his web profile that I can use to identify him. We load up a Skimmer with weapons, restraints, and syringes full of a sedation compound, just in case these humans are able to use their newfound powers with any sort of skill. Then we head to the boy's home, where the messages originated, according to the IP address. It's far enough away from the city proper that they must think they're safe. That we might overlook them.

Stupid humans. As if our reach didn't span this entire galaxy.

The street is tucked away and quiet, full of big houses on big plots of land. The mansion we're going to is at the end of a cul-de-sac. Secluded. Still, we take out a few power lines before landing, killing the streetlights. Combined with our stealth s.h.i.+elding, it makes for a fairly quiet approach.

We tread silently, the four troops following my lead. There are dim lights moving in the windows of the house. The orange glow of candles and the intense white of flashlights and battery-operated electronic devices. The people inside are likely confused, scared.