Defending the Galaxy: The Sentinels of the Galaxy Page 11

  Eight

  2522:263

  Jarren presses his thumbs into my neck, squeezing my windpipe closed. Then Bendix and Rance appear behind him. They each grab one of his arms and yank him off of me, pulling him away. They force him to the ground and secure his hands behind his back. The speed of their counterattack is impressive. I suck in great gulps of air.

  “Are you okay?” Rance asks. His knee is in the small of Jarren’s back and he’s leaning on Jarren’s shoulders, pressing him down even though Jarren isn’t struggling to get up.

  “Yeah,” I croak as Bendix helps me to my feet. I rub my shoulder and the back of my head. The pain isn’t as sharp as it could have been. Yay for carpets.

  Radcliff arrives and scans the room. Both chairs are lying on their sides. “What happened?”

  “Jarren took offense to the fact that he’s not as valuable as he thinks he is,” I say. My voice still has a bit of a rasp.

  Radcliff’s laser focus is on my throat and his inner guardian lion just about roars. “Did he hurt you?”

  “No.” Although I wonder what Radcliff would do if I’d said yes.

  “Take him back to detention,” Radcliff orders Bendix and Rance. After Jarren is gone, he says to me, “We need to debrief.”

  Ugh. But it’s a necessary evil so I trail him to his office. Except when we’re there, I spot his extra terminal and stop. Q would be able to give him an exact transcript.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  “I’ve a good memory. Can I access the Q-net and put everything I remember into a file for you?”

  “Your parents instructed me not to allow you to use the Q-net.”

  I give him the let’s-be-real look. “Fine. How about I use your portable then?” If we’re all going to pretend I can’t access the Q-net anywhere, then this is a nice work-around.

  “All right.” He hands me his portable.

  I sit in front of his desk with it in my lap. “This might take a while.”

  He makes a noncommittal sound then stands. “I’m going to get some coffee. You want some?”

  “Love some!”

  “No caffeine when you’re grounded?”

  “Nope. And no sweets either, unless my father is trying to bribe me. Being grounded is a punishment after all.”

  “How’s it compare to probation?”

  I glance up at him. There’s amusement in his gaze. “Do you think you can arrange for me to be on probation again?”

  He smiles. “Do you think I can catch you illegally worming again?”

  Not anymore, but I suspect that’s not the reason he’s asking. “Only if I let you. Do you think my parents would allow me to be on probation?”

  His amusement fades. “No. Not yet. Maybe in a few weeks.”

  “Do we even have a few weeks?”

  “I think so. The longer they wait, the more we’ll relax—or so they’ll think. They’re going to be more cautious since we beat them twice. But that’s for me to worry about. I’ll be right back.”

  “Take your time,” I say just to make him smile. After he leaves, I access the Q-net and ask Q to please transcribe the interview with Jarren.

  VIDEO?

  No. Just what we said. Thanks. It’ll be too creepy for both of us if I share the video.

  Q fills a file with our conversation and I add in my thoughts and impressions. Radcliff—taking more time than grabbing a couple cups requires—returns and the heavenly smell of coffee reaches me. He sits behind his desk and hands me a steaming mug. Ahhh. He’s content to sip his coffee while I finish the file. When it’s done, I hand him the portable.

  “There’s a file with the transcript,” I say.

  Now it’s my turn to sip my hot beverage as he reads through the file. I watch his expressions over the rim of my mug. Is he going to get mad that I obviously used the Q-net to put together the report?

  When he’s done, he leans back and taps his finger on the portable’s screen. “How accurate is this transcript?”

  “It’s exact. I’ve a really good memory.”

  “Uh huh. Then how come you couldn’t remember to put your boots away when you lived with me? I must have tripped over the damn things a dozen times.”

  “I missed you, too.”

  He barks out a laugh, surprising us both. Then he glances at the portable again. “Your interrogation style was rather…unique. I’m not sure about telling him how to defeat the HoLFs, but can’t see the harm since his colleagues can worm into DES to get the information anyway. I am surprised he said as much as he did.” Radcliff drums his fingers on the portable. “Seems Jarren supports your theory about the Warrior portals. I don’t think I’ve gotten better with the Q-net since touching the heart, but I’ll ask the rest of our team.”

  Our team! Those two lovely little words warm my insides.

  “Officer Dorey, though, has improved. Quite a bit.” He squints at me.

  I try to appear innocent. Not my best look. “Perhaps you should assign him to search for those navigators working with Jarren.”

  “Was that a guess, or do you know something?”

  “A guess. As far as the Q-net is concerned, the navigators have the deepest access and the most experience with all aspects of the Q-net.” Well…not all. “He created those other super wormers to cover his tracks. He’s obviously a prodigy with the Q-net.”

  HE IS A DAGGER IN MY SIDE.

  I can’t help it, I laugh.

  “And that’s amusing to you?” Radcliff is not amused.

  “No. It’s scary. I just…it’s just…” I clear my throat. It’s sore. “The Q-net dislikes him.” There I said it. I meet his gaze. Is he going to call me crazy?

  Radcliff doesn’t say anything for a long time. Finally he says, “The Q-net has good instincts. What about your comment at the end? The one that caused Jarren to attack you. Was that another guess?”

  “Yes. Officer Dorey and I had such a hard time worming a way into the looters base. And while I’ve been grounded, I’ve had lots of time to think. It makes sense if they didn’t leave any gaps between their base and the Q-net, that maybe they were using the Warrior portals to communicate.” I rub my neck. “His reaction confirmed it.”

  “Yes. There’s quite a bit of information to dissect. I suppose you would want to open a Warrior portal and test it out.”

  “Yes. And Beau and I might be able to find out what the looters are planning to do. If we know when their next strike will be, we—”

  Radcliff raises his hand. “One thing at a time.”

  “Time is no longer on our side, Officer Radcliff.”

  “I understand, but I won’t risk people’s lives without a damn good reason.” He gets a faraway look on his face. “I suppose you’ll want to go back to Pit 21.”

  “No. Pit 21 goes to Planet Dongguan and the looters are there. I think we should find a pit that connects to another active Warrior planet like Ruijin. We can send the archeologists a message and warn them to expect us.”

  Radcliff has this strange pained expression. “We wouldn’t even know which of our pits goes to Ruijin. We haven’t opened them all yet.”

  PIT 39.

  I swallow. Do I tell him? He seemed okay with Q not liking Jarren. Unless he was just playing along. “It’s Pit 39.”

  Another super long pause. “And which pit on Planet Ruijin would we arrive in?” He asks very slowly.

  PIT 9.

  “Pit 9.”

  Radcliff inserts his tangs and focuses on the screen on his desk. He’s checking my answer. Which means he’ll need to access the chart Niall and I created when we worked on matching the alien symbol combinations to Warrior planets. I ask Q to help him along or else this might take a while. The file is in my mother’s Q-cluster. Draining the rest of my coffee, I wonder if I could get another cup. Or maybe I should visit Beau. His office is just through the door on the left.

  “Pit 9,” Radcliff says. Then he disentangles and stares at me. Hard. “My Q-net skills
have suddenly improved, and you must have a really good memory.”

  I try a smile. It’s weak. “I do.”

  He heaves a sigh. “I’ll consider your plan.”

  Progress!

  “In the meantime, I’ll escort you back to your parents.”

  All good feelings drain out of me. “Already?”

  “It’s almost dinner time.”

  I perk up. “We still have much to discuss about Jarren’s comments. It’s something we can talk about over dinner. Please? My mom’s cooking is not as good as yours. No one’s is.”

  “Uh huh. Do you think appealing to my ego will work?”

  “Did it?” I’m hopeful.

  He softens. “Come on. I’ll make your favorite Italian dish.”

  Yay! Wait. “How do you know my favorite?”

  “By how clean your plate is when you’ve finished your third helping. And the way your face lights up when I serve it.”

  “Wow, you’re observant. Perhaps you should consider a career in law enforcement.”

  “Smart ass,” he says, but it’s more a term of endearment than a barb. “And it’ll be nice to get more out of Niall than one-word answers.”

  Now I’m giddy. Seeing Niall is a bonus! We hurry to our unit so Niall doesn’t spot me and ruin the surprise. Radcliff sends a message to my parents to avoid them showing up and demanding my return. They’re not invited to dinner, but instead are told all is well and to expect me around twenty hundred hours.

  I help Radcliff make dinner. Well, I fetch ingredients and turn on the oven. There’s a few things from my talk with Jarren that are replaying in my mind. Along with some of Radcliff’s comments.

  After he puts the manicotti in the oven to bake, I ask him about the looters’ base. “Are you going to send someone to watch the looters? In case they send another wave of soldiers to attack us.”

  He leans on the edge of the counter. “Should I? The last time you had an alarm set up with the Q-net.”

  True. “But now you know…”

  Radcliff waits for me to finish. Typical.

  I take a breath. “You know there can’t be a program to sound an alarm if there’s no way inside their communications. Plus our satellite is gone. That alarm…was just Q letting me know we had incoming.”

  “How do you know it’s not part of the program you wrote to keep you safe from Jarren? The one that erased you from the camera feeds?”

  That’s a big stretch. However, if that’s what he wants to focus on, it’s better than thinking I’m crazy. Still. “You trust it?”

  “I trust you.”

  My legs lock in place, which is a good thing. Talk about unexpected. “Thanks.”

  He pierces me with one of his Chief of Security stares. “Don’t let me down.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Radcliff nods then heads to his room to get some work done before dinner. I go to my bedroom to drink in the colorful works of art Niall’s mother painted. They’re soothing to my soul. My uniform is lying on the bed where I’d left it fifteen days ago. I run a finger over the embroidery, tracing my last name.

  The strange sense that I’m standing on an edge, looking down from a great height unbalances me. I sit on my bed. Two-thirds of a year ago, I was on Xinji, whining about staying behind and having no clue what I really wanted to do. Other than a career as a criminal mastermind. Becoming a security officer was not on my list. And now I’m sad because I can’t be one until I turn eighteen. Times have certainly changed.

  Although being a navigator is still very appealing. Except… If we stop the looters, then DES can take over their Warrior network. It’ll change everything. Though I wonder if traveling through the Warrior Express would be as easy as stepping from one side to the other. Would a person need to touch a Warrior heart first in order to travel? Or would they need a navigator? If not, would the navigators be upset to no longer be needed? They have a stressful job, but there’s no comparison to the awesomeness of navigating the star roads. Thinking of the navigators, I wonder if Jarren’s navigators are just biding their time, waiting for the perfect moment to sabotage the Warrior Express. After all, those Warriors are fragile. And that leads to the question of why there are so many in one pit if you only need the eight key Warriors to go to another planet.

  PROTECTION.

  From the shadow-blobs?

  YES.

  But they looters have been using the portals with only the eight Warriors. Right?

  YES.

  I don’t understand.

  BLOBS STRONGER THAN EIGHT. BREAK THROUGH IN TIME.

  Oh my stars. I must admit, my initial reaction is thinking it could be a good thing as they’ll kill all those murdering looters. But I’m not that bloodthirsty. Really! I’m sure there are innocents working for them. Plus that’s many more shadow-blobs in our dimension.

  How much time?

  UNKNOWN. BREACH IS DEPENDENT ON NUMBER OF CROSSINGS.

  The more the looters use the weaker portals with only the eight Warriors, the greater the chance of the shadow-blobs getting through?

  YES. PORTALS WILL WEAKEN WITH EACH CROSSING.

  Unless there’s all fourteen hundred Warriors?

  AND FORTY-EIGHT. YES.

  That’s scary. Jarren’s been destroying thousands of Warriors. What about the reconstructed Warriors? Will they work?

  IF THEY HAVE HEARTS.

  Too bad we don’t know how to make more hearts.

  FACTORIES.

  We have the equipment?

  YES.

  That’s something to figure out later. For now, how do I convince anyone about this new, deadly wrinkle? I can’t even get Radcliff to test a portal.

  Speak of the devil. Radcliff appears in my doorway. “Can you set the table?”

  I clamp down on hysterical giggles. Our Galaxy is about to be invaded, but it’ll have to wait until after I set the table.

  “Ara?”

  “Yes, coming.” I hop off the bed.

  I’ll ask Q more questions later. For now, I set the table while Radcliff finishes getting dinner ready.

  When the door to the unit opens, I move to a corner of the kitchen where Niall can’t see me.

  “Dad?” he calls.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m not hungry tonight. I’m gonna pass and crash for a few hours instead,” Niall says.

  I’m about to say something when Radcliff puts his finger to his lips, stopping me.

  “Get your ass in here right now, boy. That’s an order.” Although his tone is harsh, Radcliff gives me a conspiratorial wink.

  Niall makes an exaggerated huff and storms into the kitchen. “You can’t order me to—” He spots me.

  “Surprise!”

  “Mouse!”

  And then I’m in his arms with my legs wrapped around his waist. My world fills with Niall. His scent and touch banish all my worries over shadow-blobs and looters. For now.

  Radcliff clears his throat and Niall sets me down. We’re both grinning like a couple of lovesick teenagers. Yes, I know that’s what we are, but you gotta admit, we’re more mature than your average teens. Shadow-blobs and looters tend to make you grow up in a hurry.

  “Sit down before it gets cold.” Radcliff fills three plates, but instead of joining us at the table, he picks his up. “I’ve lots of work to catch up on.” He gives me his intense look. “Don’t forget, you have to be back at twenty hundred.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Good. Niall, you can escort her. Tell the dragon she’ll have a complete report in the morning.”

  “Yes, sir.” Niall’s trying hard not to laugh.

  I press my lips together to keep the giggles trapped inside. Once Radcliff’s bedroom door closes, we both lose control of our laughter—Radcliff called my mother the dragon!

  “Who came up with that nickname? You or your father?” I ask.

  “Dad did. He finally encountered someone more stubborn than him.”

  And just my luck, it'
s my mother. Then I realize that Radcliff is actually being thoughtful. He’s giving me and Niall some privacy.

  “How did my dad manage to temporarily spring you?” Niall asks.

  In between bites—I wasn’t lying, Radcliff’s cooking is the best—I explain about interviewing Jarren. I skip the part about the attack.

  “Talking to Jarren must have been…stressful. You okay?” Niall asks.

  “Yeah. Well…” I rub my neck. “I wasn’t thrilled about the idea, but Bendix and Rance had my back.”

  “So DES was actually right, you got more out of him than my dad,” Niall says.

  I shrug. “I goaded him with my guesses. I’m not sure how any of this information will help us if your dad isn’t going to let me test a portal.”

  Niall pauses with his fork in mid-air. “You?”

  Remembering my promise, I rush to add, “Us.” I sweep my silverware in a circle. “As in security, the astrophysicists, and my parents.”

  “Uh huh.”

  I change the subject, asking about what I’ve missed. Niall fills me in on the looters in the pits, telling me a story about Elese motivating them to work faster. “She put them into teams and the first team to finish reconstructing a Warrior gets a prize.”

  Laughing, I ask, “What’s the prize?”

  “Dessert.”

  “I approve.” There’s many things I would do for dessert.

  He’s in the middle of regaling me with another story when he stops abruptly. “What’s wrong with your neck?” he asks.

  Automatically, I touch it. “Nothing. Why?”

  “You keep rubbing it. What’s that?” He reaches over the table and tips up my chin. “Bruises!”

  “Oh.”

  “Oh?” He stands. “What happened?”

  “I goaded Jarren one too many times. I should have told you but I just wanted us to enjoy dinner and my last couple of hours of freedom.”

  He relaxes. “I wouldn’t have been mad at you.”

  “I know.”

  “I really hate that guy.”

  “I know. I do, too. So let’s not talk about him anymore.”

  “All right.” He sits down and we finish eating.

  After cleaning up the dishes, we collapse on the couch. He tucks me under his arm and I lean against him. One of his sketchbooks is on the coffee table, and it reminds me.