Operative Divenoll watched the biohazard team move the hovering carts of body-bagged corpses away from the Lab’s projected blast radius. Divenoll had plotted the blast on his datapad using the demolitions teams’ estimate. It would be best to leave the bodies intact. Barbarism would win them nothing.
The sun had almost set. The withdrawing Liberty Corps ground forces had lit their mobile lamps to complete their operation. Troops filed back aboard their skimmers and departed down the river to a clearing where the Manifest Destiny’s carrier transports would return them to the flagship.
Soon, the entire facility would be swept away. In a matter of years, the forest would claim it all, as if it never existed.
“Is the beacon message finished?” Divenoll didn’t look up at the communications officer or his work-in-progress. He switched to his datapad’s second window, showing the approaching shapes of Pacific Alliance aerial craft, openly approaching from the north.
“I believe so.” The communications officer typed the public explanation of the battle, the message that would announce the presence of the deceased. “Should I play it for you?”
“You may.” Divenoll saw that the carts with the bodies had officially moved beyond the maximum blast perimeter. Good, his time babysitting had almost passed. Maybe knighthood was worth less than he’d imagined, if it meant his temporary managerial work would be made permanent. If Rowan, Hiram, and the rest spent their time training rather than supervising their forces, maybe they could have caught the Aesir crew. It had never been Divenoll’s business to guide others by the hand.
“Attention families or friends of the Crystal Dune Laboratory,” a synthesized male voice spoke from the comm officer’s forearm touchpad. “This unaligned facility was conducting research with stolen IHSA materials. They were using the rightful property of the Liberty Corps. We tried to peacefully claim this property, but the illegal military force present here resisted. Unfortunately, there were casualties in the ensuing battle. While we have every right to seize stolen property, we recognize that it is not our place to dispose of the dead…”
Divenoll’s datapad vibrated, announcing a request from the biohazard team. He raised a hand to the communications officer and accepted the call.
“The scientist who opened fire on our scouts and led us away from Gregory,” the Biohazard Captain said, “Pennington – according to the personnel records we recovered. Should his body be placed with combatants or noncombatants?”
“Noncombatants,” Divenoll said. “Leave him with his dead wife. That will play better.” He snapped his fingers at the comm officer. “Add the Penningtons to the message. Mention the innocent couple drawn into the fighting.” The officer nodded. “And be quick about it, our skimmer is leaving in five minutes.”
“Sir.” The communications officer didn’t return to his work. “It may not be my place…”
“I’m sure it isn’t your place,” Divenoll said, but the man continued.
“Couldn’t we learn more from this laboratory? Isn’t destroying it…”
“Nothing here is as important as the search for the Dreamside Road. This laboratory offers incremental learning. The Dreamside Road offers leaps in knowledge and power. There’s nothing here worth open conflict with the Alliance. Now,” he snapped his fingers again. “Finish your work. If you’re not finished when the skimmer arrives, I’ll leave you here to deliver the message in person.”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
One of the demolitions crew ran from the darkened main building. He wore white officer armor, but it was thicker in the extremeties and the tunic beneath was yellow, instead of black.
“Sir,” the demolitions officer said. “Charges are planted.”
“Good,” Divenoll said. “Once we’ve reached a safe distance, you have the Baron’s clearance to begin the demolition.”
* * *
Enoa felt the explosion before she heard it. She felt the fire and debris surge into the river, and it was like being pricked with a needle. She felt the warmth as clearly as if she were just downstream from the explosion.
She jolted upright at the Aesir’s table, but she had no chance to warn the others.
The explosion rocked the ship and shook the earth beneath them. Jaleel and Dr. Stanislakova both shouted.
“I doubt that’s meant for us.” Orson continued working with the spaghetti sauce he was seasoning. “I don’t think even they would blow up the whole forest.”
“The Lab.” Enoa considered keeping it to herself. Hadn’t Dr. Stan been through enough? “It was the Lab. They destroyed it.”
“The Liberty Corps is hiding what they’re up to.” Orson chose ingredients from the cupboard above the stove. Each of the spice containers was strapped into individual mesh compartments. “They won’t want the Alliance to get a clear idea what they’re after.” He looked over his shoulder at Dr. Stan. “But that’s good news. That means the Alliance is probably coming here. We can get you to them before we keep going.”
Dr. Stan only nodded. After their escape, she’d returned to her silent contemplation.
“How are you feeling?” Orson caught Enoa’s eye. “You’re still awake this time.”
“Yeah.” Enoa rubbed at her forehead. She’d dug into Orson’s stash of ibuprofen, but that had only dulled the ache. “I guess I’m getting stronger.”
“And that’s really good,” Jaleel said. “If we didn’t bring our A-game today, Orson would’ve been in big trouble.” He sat across the table from Enoa.
“If I fished for compliments like that when I joined the first Aesir crew, I would’ve spent a lot of time scrubbing floors.” Orson smiled and returned to his cooking.
“Seriously,” Jaleel said. “What would you have done if we didn’t fly in to save the day? You were surrounded.”
“Well,” Orson said. “Without Dr. Stan, I would’ve just gone in the river. I think they would’ve had a pretty hard time reaching me in there, and the boot works in water, so I would’ve just escaped with the current.”
“But Dr. Stan was there,” Jaleel said. “And I don’t think she had any scuba gear.”
“If you succeed in finding this island.” Dr. Stan spoke up, but she didn’t look at any of them. “Will that stop the Liberty Corps? This Dreamside Road they mentioned, they seem to want it very badly.”
“They do,” Orson said. “And I have every intention of stopping them from getting it.” He finished the spices and placed a lid on the pot.
“I want to help you,” she answered. “I want to help you stop them. If you’re looking at oceanic data, you may need my help.”
“We’re not going back to Littlefield,” Orson said. “I’ve brought way too much trouble to that place. With what we’re going to do…” He exhaled.
“What are we doing?” Enoa could still feel the fire. Some of the debris in the river burned. She tried to reach out to the air, to sense if the flames had spread, if the trees burned too, but she couldn’t. It was too far away or she was too drained from the day’s exertions.
“Should we even ask what you’re talking about?” Jaleel asked. “I mean, after your submarine plan, I’m not sure.”
“Once we know that supercarrier is a long way from here,” Orson said. “We’re going to get in touch with the robotic mites that hopefully are still hanging on their hull. That’s where the track part of Trick and Track comes in. The tracking mites will let us follow that ship back to their base. If I know my business at all, wherever that ship parks will have serious information, like Dreamside Road data. And that’ll be one place on Earth they won’t destroy the data before we can get to it.”
“Get to it?” Enoa asked.
“You’re going to steal from them,” Dr. Stan said. “If you really intend to sort through data you probably won’t understand, in an expedited manner, then you need me there with you.”
“There?” Jaleel asked. “Your idea is really to go where they park their mother ship and break in or whatever?”
“Yep,” Orson said. “But first, we’re going to find a place to lie low. It’s gonna take a lot of planning to rob the Liberty Corps.”