‘Accessing it how?’

‘Hunting the Loric for so many years has made my people paranoid to ever miss a potential lead. Every operation is recorded. There’s surveillance everywhere.’ Adam strikes a key with a triumphant flair. ‘Even aboard our own ships.’

The monitors above flicker briefly and then display grainy footage of a runway in the middle of a swamp.

‘If the Garde are nearby, we might be able to see them,’ Adam explains.

‘If they’re not invisible,’ I say, squinting at the monitor.

Beneath the camera, a handful of Mogadorians look frustrated as they yank engine parts from the scout ship’s hull. They clean these parts, reattach them and, when nothing happens, start taking apart something else.

‘What’re they doing?’ Sam asks.

‘Trying to fix what I’ve done,’ Adam replies excitedly, seeming pleased that he’s outsmarted his people. ‘They assume engine failure, not automated systems override. It will take them a while to catch on.’

Another Mogadorian, this one wearing an impressive-looking uniform similar to the General’s, approaches them. He yells at the mechanics, then walks offscreen in a huff.

‘Does the camera move?’ I ask.

‘Of course.’

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Adam hits a button and the camera begins to scan to the side, following the dressed-up Mogadorian. At first, there isn’t much to see except pavement and, in the distance, some swampland. However, after a short walk, the dressed-up Mogadorian disappears into an airplane hangar.

‘Do you think they’re in there?’ I ask.

‘This camera should be equipped with heat vision, if I can figure out how to access it,’ Adam replies, tentatively tapping a few of the keys in front of him.

Before Adam can figure it out, Five walks through the hangar doors. Even though I’d guessed he was a traitor from Ella’s vision, I’d been holding on to a foolish hope that it wasn’t true. Or, dark as it might seem, that Five was the one killed in battle. But there he is, in a rumpled Mogadorian uniform, and with a bandage covering his right eye.

I can hear Sam suck in a breath; he’s stunned. The only part of my visions that I hadn’t told anyone about was seeing Five, not wanting to smear his name if I was wrong.

‘He’s …’ Sam shakes his head. ‘That son of a bitch traitor. It must’ve been him who told the Mogs about Chicago.’

‘One of your own,’ Adam says quietly. ‘That is unexpected.’

I have to look away from Five’s image before my blood boils. ‘You didn’t know about this?’ I ask Adam through clenched teeth.

‘No,’ he says, shaking his head. ‘I would’ve told you. Setrákus Ra himself must have been keeping him a secret.’

I force myself to look back at the screen. I keep calm, studying my new enemy. His slumped shoulders, his freshly shaved head, the dark look in his remaining eye. What could have brought one of our own to such a terrible place?

‘I knew there was something off about that jerk,’ Sam says, pacing now. ‘John, man, what are we going to do about him?’

I don’t reply, mainly because the only solution I can think of at that moment, seeing Five in the enemy’s uniform, is to kill him. ‘Where’s he going? Follow him,’ I tell Adam.

Adam does. The camera follows Five across the runway until he reaches a ramp that leads on to the biggest spaceship I’ve ever seen, so massive that its entire bulk isn’t even picked up on camera.

‘Damn,’ I breathe, my eyes widening. ‘What the hell is that thing?’

‘Warship,’ Adam answers, a note of awe sneaking into his voice as he squints at the screen. ‘I can’t tell which one.’

‘Which one?’ Sam exclaims. ‘How many of those things do they have?’

‘Dozens? Maybe more, maybe less. They run on the old fuel of Mogadore and whatever my people managed to mine from Lorien. Not the most efficient things. And slow. When I got in trouble as a boy, my mother would threaten to ground me until the fleet’s arrival …’ He realizes he’s rambling and trails off, looking up at us. ‘You don’t care about this, do you?’

‘Maybe not the best time for reminiscing,’ I reply, watching as Five boards the ship. ‘But what else can you tell us about the fleet?’

‘They’ve been traveling since the fall of Lorien,’ Adam continues. ‘Mog strategists believe they’ve got enough firepower left for one last siege.’

‘Earth,’ I say.

‘Yeah,’ Adam replies. ‘Then, my people will settle here. Maybe rebuild the fleet if Setrákus Ra finds a reason.’

‘You mean if there’s any life in the universe left for him to conquer,’ I say.

Sam shakes his head, still marveling at the hulking warship. ‘So they have a secret weakness, right? Like how you can shoot that one spot on the Death Star and the whole thing blows up?’

Adam’s brow furrows. ‘What’s a Death Star?’

Sam throws up his hands. ‘We’re screwed.’

‘If they’ve been taken prisoner and are aboard that thing …’ I don’t finish the thought, mainly because a course of action just isn’t coming to me. Taking over a mostly abandoned Mogadorian base is one thing; finding a way aboard a massive warship is another entirely.

Especially when that massive warship is slowly rising into the sky. Maybe Sam’s right and we are screwed.




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