I feel a brief swelling of pride at that. Pride and a massive ache of missed opportunity. If I’d only hit him a little harder.
“We talking hours? Days? A week?” Lawson persists.
“I can’t be sure. More than hours, I’d guess, but probably not days . . .” Ella cocks her head, remembering another detail that clearly troubles her. “There are also others down there with him.”
“In the vats?” John asks.
“Yes,” Ella replies.
Nine makes a face. “Like, floating in goop together? Damn, that’s nasty.”
“The vats work differently than before, now that they’re powered with what . . . what he stole from us,” Ella continues. “While he heals, Setrákus Ra is also working. He is— I don’t know exactly. These others with him, he is making them into something new.”
I don’t like the sound of that. Judging by the faces around the table, no one does. I remember back to that vision of Setrákus Ra’s past that we all shared—how hell-bent he was to grant people Legacies. That’s got to be what he’s doing down there.
Before I can say anything, Lawson butts in, his head cocked. “What did Setrákus Ra steal from you?”
Ella first looks at me, then at John, like she’s asking for permission to tell Lawson that Setrákus Ra mined a bunch of Loric energy from the ground in Mexico. I don’t know how honest we’re supposed to be with these people; my instinct is, not very. I’m sure everyone on our side of the table has figured out what that scumbag is up to, but it doesn’t seem wise to share that information with the military. No need to freak them out any more than we need to. Or give them any ideas about what’s possible when you hideously exploit a resource.
I’m relieved when John subtly shakes his head in response to Ella.
Ella turns back to Lawson. “Something precious to our people,” she says.
Lawson seems to know there’s more to the story, but he doesn’t press the matter. Instead, he motions to one of the officers standing by the door. The guy immediately exits, off to fetch something for his boss. I get a sinking feeling. Mysterious hand signals are always a bad sign.
“All right, then. If we’re ready to discuss counterstrike opportunities—,” Lawson begins.
“About time,” mutters Nine.
“—we should have all our intelligence assets available,” Lawson finishes.
At that moment, the officer who Lawson sent scurrying into the hall a second ago returns. He leads in two guards, both of them armed with assault rifles and in full combat gear. They don’t take their eyes off the prisoner who stands between them, shackled hand and foot, and looking close to exhaustion.
It’s Adam.
CHAPTER SIX
FOR A FEW MINUTES THERE, I ACTUALLY THOUGHT this meeting might go off without a hitch and I could quickly get back to my own plans to take down Setrákus Ra. Guess I underestimated the depths of the government’s stupidity.
Six is the first one to her feet when they bring Adam into the room, his chains clanking together. She’s up so fast that her chair topples over. Some of the armed soldiers at the room’s edges anxiously lift their weapons just a fraction. When she stands up, so do Sam and Nine.
“What is this bullshit?” Six yells at Lawson while pointing at Adam.
“It’s all right, Six,” Adam says tiredly, his eyes on the armed guards. “I’m fine.”
Nine turns around to look at the guards with a grin. He nods to one guy whose finger is hovering just over his assault rifle’s trigger.
“He’s with us, old man,” Six growls at Lawson, ignoring Adam’s attempt to defuse the situation. “He’s our friend.”
Lawson hasn’t even moved from his seat. In fact, he looks amused by the whole situation. I wonder if this is him trying to get a rise out of us on purpose, trying to see just how far he can push us, wondering what kind of allies we’ll be.
“Your friend,” Lawson responds calmly, “is a member of a hostile alien race that is bent on the subjugation of this planet. You brought him here—to the doorstep of humanity’s best hope for resistance—and expected, what? That we let him roam around freely?”
“Pretty much,” Nine says.
When she first came into the room, I noticed the way Six sized up the military firepower. I recognized that look. She was figuring out our odds of taking them in a fight. Though I didn’t expect things to go south, I have to admit that I made my own similar calculation. It’s a survival instinct we’ll probably never shake.