The Survivors | Book 16 | New Lies Page 3

  “Jules!” Her mom waited near the entrance, and she dropped her thumbprint on a tablet, sending a Padlog woman scurrying off toward the office building. She loved her mom fiercely, and seeing the woman in charge of the entire Board brought a big smile to her face.

  “Mom!” Jules went in for a hug, until she remembered what a mess she was: covered in red shale, sweat sticking to her face.

  “Hey, Mrs. P,” Dean said.

  “Kids… Is everything ready for the Gretiols’ arrival?” Mary looked professional as usual. Her Alliance uniform was black, with navy blue trim along the hems. Her boots were polished, and her hair looked immaculate. Jules could only hope to look so good when she reached her mom’s age. Mary had a sizeable bag slung over her shoulder, and Jules assumed it held her overnight gear.

  “We’re all set. They arrive in forty minutes.”

  “How many?”

  “Five hundred,” Dean said first.

  “We offered them space for six hundred, but we’re delighted to have so many of them integrating into our eventual fleet. Their Emperor seems quite pleased with our agreement,” Mary said.

  “As long as we hold our end of the bargain and assist their defense against the Wibox.” Dean frowned, and glanced to a lowering shuttle a half-klick away. “I’d better go. That’s my mom with Patty for the ceremony.”

  “Say hi for me,” Jules called after him. She couldn’t wait to see Patty. She’d been on Shimmal in their medical program for six months, and they’d sent a handful of communications back and forth since then.

  “How are you doing?” Her mom entered their building, the doors opening as she neared. The place was spotless, with shiny white tiles and floor-to-ceiling windows lining the foyer.

  “I’m tired, but that just means we’re busy. I didn’t realize it would be so exhausting,” Jules admitted.

  “That’s understandable. We’re trying to create the foundation for a defensive fleet that will span ninety solar systems and protect fifty or so partners. There are bound to be growing pains. I’ve heard good things from Magnus, Rivo, everyone. You’re making a real difference, Jules.” Her mom’s praise melted into her, and she exhaled in relief.

  “Thanks, Mom. We’re trying to do our part.”

  They walked down the hall, passing Dr. Henrick Swan’s office doors. “And you’re still doing your weekly appointments?” Her mom always brought them up, but Jules didn’t mind.

  “Every Friday at three PM.”

  Her mom glanced at her as they continued. “And is it… helping?”

  “Mom, I’m fine. I know I’ve been through a lot, but I’m at peace with things. I know I lost my powers and will never get them back.” Jules stopped outside her room and faced her mother. She suddenly felt like a little girl. Her parents had that effect on her.

  “And Dean? How’s he doing with Magnus and everything?”

  Jules’ room was three away from Dean’s, with Suma’s and Rivo’s between them. She entered her dwelling with a press of her thumb, grateful she’d cleaned up before her mom came. The space was small compared to what she’d grown up with, but it was hers. A bed was situated beyond the living room, with a compact private bathroom, complete with a stand-up shower. The recruits were in bunks, a hundred to a room with shared facilities. Given the option, she was content with her privacy.

  “Dean’s fine too, Mom. Stop worrying so much.” Jules sighed and flopped to her two-person couch. “Have you heard from Papa?”

  Mary leaned against the closed door. “Not for a while. But I expect he’s okay.”

  “I want to do something to help. I hate waiting for news.” Jules untied her boots and tossed them aside.

  “Your father will find Regnig. We know that. It’s just taking him longer than he’d hoped.”

  “I wish we knew who took him. Maybe we could—”

  Her mom shook her head. “Jules, he was clear about one thing. You’re not to get involved. His task is dangerous, and your place is here, helping Magnus lift this operation off the ground. We’re grooming a fleet to save billions of lives one day. If the Arnap or some other enemy test our boundaries, we’ll be ready for them. I hate to say it, but…”

  “But Regnig is but a drop in the ocean,” Jules muttered.

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I know. It doesn’t change the fact that it’s true. Mom, I need a few minutes.” Jules unzipped her uniform, and her mom smiled at her, reaching into the bag clutched to her side.

  “I wanted to wait for Magnus to tell you, but since you’re running late, and they’ll be here soon…” Mary gave Jules a folded uniform.

  “What’s this?” She let it drop, holding the top of the jumpsuit. It matched Mary’s, with two stars above their Alliance logo, which had recently changed to showcase five planets in a three-dimensional ring.

  Jules was speechless. “Ambassador?”

  “You and Dean have been working so hard, and we haven’t even decided on what your titles should be. You’re now Alliance Ambassadors to the Institute. You have authority over procedural aspects, as well as logistics and supplies. You answer to Magnus like always, but no longer have to run things past each department.”

  Jules ran to her mom, careless of being dirty, and hugged her fiercely. “Thank you!” This was astonishing. It meant they valued her efforts and trusted her to do a good job. “Ever since I returned from our alternate reality, I’ve felt lost, and this brings me home again.” Unbidden tears fell freely, and she dabbed them with a dusty sleeve. “You have no idea how good this feels.”

  Mary stroked her hair, as only a mother could, and kissed the top of her head. “Jules, you’re destined for great things. I won’t be surprised if you’re running the entire fleet one day.”

  Jules stepped back, her tears finished, and she felt her jaw drop. “Admiral…”

  “Maybe. The Alliance would be lucky to have you… but as I said, that’s years from now. We’re at the infancy stage, and we all have a lot to learn, don’t we? Maybe we’ll start you with your own command.” The comment was so casual, but the idea of captaining a vessel like Papa had, and Magnus with Horizon. It would be an incredible opportunity.

  Jules stood in silence, clutching her new uniform, and stared at the wall, deep in thought.

  “Ju, like I said, that’s for future discussions, but tonight, the Gretiol are coming, and we need to make a good impression. They have a lot of resources, more than half of our alliance put together, but it also means they have enemies. This could become complicated, so we have to do our best work.” Her mother always knew best.

  “Hopefully, there’s more positives than negatives in this deal,” Jules said.

  “Let’s hope so. We’ve seated the Emperor and Empress with me, Magnus, Natalia, Rivo, and Sarlun. We’ve asked that you and Dean join their son, Malir, and answer any questions he has about the Alliance and the Institute.” Mary set out for the exit.

  Jules was aware of her duty. They’d spent several weeks in preparation. “See you soon.”

  After her mom departed, Jules took a quick shower and dried her dark curly hair, wishing she had more time to make herself presentable. She hastily applied some makeup, things Patty had forced her to buy. She felt more mature when she wore it, which was the only reason the effort was made. But tonight was important.

  The uniform fit perfectly, and she ran a finger over the two stars indicating her rank as Ambassador. She kept her hair down, and it cascaded past her shoulders. Her eyes were still a vivid green, but lacked a subtle glow. She was finally growing used to the change.

  Out of habit, she lifted a finger, attempting to make a sphere around herself. For a second, she thought there was a brief connection to the well of energy she used to contain within her, but nothing happened. “You don’t need to be a Deity,” she told herself, and even managed to smile while saying the words.

  With a glance at the time, she saw how close she was cutting it.

  Dean met he
r at the building’s exit, wearing a matching white uniform. He beamed as he spotted her.

  Natalia’s hair was growing out, and she looked stunning in a gown. She wasn’t on the Board and didn’t have a title, so she’d opted to go formal. Patty waved as she arrived, and they embraced. She was a far cry from the troublemaking teenager, and had on a beautiful dark blue dress to match their uniform accents.

  “Patty, we’ll catch up later, but we’re going to be late!” Jules hurried toward the portal and gawked at the rows and rows of squads lined in the training field. All three thousand recruits were in uniform, awaiting the arrival of the newest Alliance partner joining their fleet training Institute. Seeing them in one place was inspiring, and her feet moved quicker when she spotted Mary and Magnus near the portal stone.

  Having the sphere stone, one of four in their universe, made things a lot simpler for the Institute. Logistically, shuttling people to the Terran site with the portal tucked into the mountain range would have been irritating at best. Now they could absorb hundreds within minutes. Jules was always on the lookout for more of the Deity-created objects, knowing one was protected by the Nirzu people on their transplanted world. The final two remained a mystery.

  No matter how far the Alliance partners had explored, there was endless opportunity for new findings. Jules looked forward to discussing the Gatekeepers’ progress with Sarlun later tonight, but for now, it was time for their honored guests to arrive.

  Jules was thankful the weather was more acceptable, or the recruits would be out here sweating through their uniforms. The Keppe were used to it, their dark armored skin impervious to the heat, but others, like the Molariuns, despised it. They were so small mixed among the Institute recruits.

  Rivo was there, wearing a formal white uniform, standing beside Sarlun. Alnod Industries had started funding the project, and without Rivo’s help, none of this would even exist. Jules waved at her as they approached, and the blue woman smiled in return. Rivo felt obligated, considering Papa had saved her off Lom of Pleva’s pirate robot ship all those years ago, even though she’d been reassured there was no debt to pay.

  Magnus wore a white uniform, denoting his rank as admiral. Because this was a fleet, they’d opted for the old-world navy titles, mixing in varieties of other military ranks for clarification. These cadets were being tutored in ground combat as well as bridge training, and a variety of roles, first. After another six months, they’d be divided into new groups, based on their aptitudes. The Alliance fleet needed people to man the seven space stations under construction, and more officers to prepare future Institutes. Each of the primary partners’ worlds would be involved with different aspects, providing either resources, money, or troops.

  In the end, the bartering had been run by Jules’ mother, and everyone on board seemed pleased with the results. The Gretiol were the last to agree, and Jules was anxious to meet them. Only Mary had visited their world, and Jules hadn’t seen so much as a picture of them or their planet.

  “They look good on you,” Magnus said, indicating their new uniforms as they planted their feet near the portal beside him and Mary.

  “Thanks. Same to you,” Dean told him.

  Jules saw Magnus glance at Natalia, who was to the side with Patty. They’d stayed close, but Jules didn’t think they’d evolved their relationship into anything past platonic. They were reminders of their own dead spouses, and Jules assumed they felt both comfort and sadness in each other’s company.

  Dean Parker’s absence today was like a black hole. Everyone wished he was here, and so did Jules. He was the glue that kept the Alliance together, and during their most important moment of the Institute, he wasn’t able to greet the newcomers. Mary assured her it was perfectly acceptable, but Jules hoped the Gretiol didn’t take it as a slight.

  “Here they come.” Magnus stepped from the radius around the sphere. It glowed green, pulsing as the Gretiol operated it. Fifty of them appeared, the front rows holding up weapons. Lengthy guns with spears attached pointed at everyone gathered around the portal, and Jules lifted her hand, trying to raise her shield. It was an instinct difficult to forget.

  “Easy,” Magnus whispered.

  The air was tense, and Jules appraised them. The soldiers wore black capes to their waists, visors over their eyes, and dark satin clothing. They aimed the weapons but hadn’t taken any action yet. It felt like a stalemate.

  Mary stepped forward, avoiding Magnus reaching for her arm. “What is this? Where is Emperor Bastion the Seventh?”

  The soldiers slowly parted a path, making space for their leader. He was an old man, his back bent, his stomach gone to flab. He was wide across the shoulders, and he carried a metal cane that undoubtedly doubled as a weapon. His wife appeared twenty years younger, and stood with her dignified chin tilted into the air.

  “I am here, Mary Parker. Sorry for the confusion. You can never be too cautious,” Bastion said, his voice friendly despite the fact that his soldiers still held up weapons at everyone.

  “Would you mind instructing your people to relax?” Mary asked as she walked toward the painted circle around the sphere portal.

  He tapped his cane once, and they lowered their weapons in unison, standing at ease.

  The Emperor sauntered his way out of the circle, the Empress at his arm. They were quite human in appearance, with dark skin and angular features. Even crouched with age, the man was imposing, radiating a certain power. The Empress was a striking woman, her eyes sharp and beguiling. She wore a cape as well, her green outfit tight and form-fitting. Jules noticed they had five fingers, plus a longer thumb, but otherwise could have passed for human, at least superficially.

  “Come, join us inside. We’ll see that your recruits are shown to their quarters,” Mary told them.

  Jules realized this first batch were not the recruits, but the Emperor’s private guard. It seemed like forty of them might be overkill, but who was she to judge their customs?

  Bastion and his wife stepped past Jules without so much as a glance, and she spotted the man behind them. He was dressed in black clothing like the guards, but he didn’t wear the visor or carry a weapon. His hair was long past his shoulders, and his face held a casual smirk while he appraised the Institute grounds, his gaze settling on the three thousand troops at attention.

  Jules watched as he observed his surroundings, and finally, she caught his attention. His smile grew.

  “Come on, Jules. We’d better follow them.” Dean was tugging on her arm, and she realized the others were almost inside. She turned around, feeling the mysterious Gretiol’s scrutiny as they rushed from the portal.

  Behind her, another round of Gretiol arrived, and it was official. The Institute’s population was growing.

  Three

  “We can settle this like grownups,” I told the advancing men. The rain seemed to accentuate their strength, and I could smell them from twenty yards ahead.

  “Youliedtous,” the leader said, holding up his metal rod.

  I hated everything about Ibarran D. My pulse pistol was in its holster, and one of the men lifted up his heavy rusted gun. It had seen better days, but I assumed it would kill me just the same.

  “Technically, it wasn’t me, it was Sergo, but who’s counting?” I smiled, and they came closer.

  The rain had subsided slightly, and I saw a light arriving from above the raging sea. The docks were a short distance away, and this one was empty. The vessel screeched through the quiet night, and these goons all looked up at the same moment. I took the chance.

  Grabbing my pulse pistol, I shot the one with the clunky gun first, then their leader. A second later, I was inside my ship, sealing the door closed. I breathed frantically while the ramp receded, and heard their blasts striking my hull.

  Heart beating like a racehorse, I sprinted ahead to start the Kraski vessel. I should have shot all of them. As the dash illuminated, I threw the shields on and kicked the thrusters to engage, firing up and forward, only
to descend a moment later, hovering outside Jomm’s warehouse C18.

  Sergo didn’t need instructions. He was there with the rescued captives, and the second the hatch opened, he ushered the frightened people inside. I watched from the bridge’s camera feed, and when he secured the exit, I flew into the night sky, ready to leave Ibarran D once and for all.

  Sergo appeared a minute later, buzzing with irritation. “What took you so long?”

  “Had a brief run-in with your buddies from the alley,” I told him.

  “You okay?”

  “Better than them.” I was pinged by the local departure clearance team robots, but I ignored the request for exit paperwork.

  Sergo sat beside me, slumping in the seat. “What are we going to do with our new guests?”

  “I have no idea. We can’t keep them, and I don’t want to delay our trip to Mount Carve.” I was still searching for the location.

  “About that. Do we really want to go?” Sergo didn’t seem inclined to relive his time there.

  “I knew you were into some shady business, Sergo, but tell me one thing,” I said, not looking him in the eye as I breached the atmosphere, happy to have this world in my rearview mirror.

  “I had nothing to do with slave trade, if that’s what you want to ask,” he said firmly.

  I glanced at him from the corner of my eye and nodded. “Okay.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Sure. You’re my friend. You say you weren’t involved, and I trust you.”

  Sergo seemed surprised by this and grunted.

  “What’s at Mount Carve?” I inquired.

  Sergo peered behind him, making sure no one was listening. “Mount Carve is nothing like this place. It’s…”