When things went wrong, that’s when XCU was supposed to step in and help. At first, that had gone pretty well—until there was a bad budget year. Followed by a worse one. They liked to do things on the cheap these days…

  Dom led me to a section of wall that looked no different from any other. But then he pressed his hand against a hidden panel, and the wall shimmered and disappeared, revealing a high-tech elevator hidden behind some kind of cloaking field.

  “Why hide the backdoor so thoroughly?” I asked.

  Dom snorted. “Have you seen the hangdog punks roaming this city today? Everyone worth a shit left Earth a long time ago. Heavy security is expensive—hiding things is cheap.”

  He finally showed me the way in.

  “After you,” Dom said, gesturing for me to enter.

  I hesitated. My instincts again were screaming at me to turn around and walk. Instead, I stepped into the elevator—but I had one paranoid hand resting on my buzzblade.

  The doors slid shut behind us, and the elevator began to descend. I watched as Dom punched in a complex series of codes on a hidden keypad. A retinal scanner popped out of the wall, and he leaned in to let it scan his eye.

  I made a mental note of the sequence. You never knew when you might need to get in or out of a place like this without authorization. And with Dom running the show down here, you might as well be prepared for the worst.

  Suddenly, the elevator shuddered to a halt. The lights flickered and went out, plunging us into darkness. I heard a hissing sound, and then a sickly sweet smell filled the air.

  Gas. They were gassing the damn elevator car. I held my breath, my hand tightening on my buzzblade. Dom was holding his own breath, so he said nothing. Finally, the gas was vacuumed out of the elevator car. Was my head swimming, just a bit? Maybe, but I hadn’t passed out. I’d held my breath automatically.

  “Another little test?” I asked. “I assume I passed…”

  Dom laughed. “Relax, Tanner. It’s just a little security measure. Weeds out the weak and the unprepared.”

  The gas cleared, and the lights came back on. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. Dom was grinning at me, his eyes glinting with amusement.

  I glared at him. The bastard was really enjoying this. But I didn’t say anything. I just stood there, waiting for the elevator to reach its destination.

  The elevator ride down was taking forever. Dom leaned against the wall, a smug grin on his face. He started talking about his recent hires, ticking them off on his fingers like he was counting up a score.

  “Let’s see, there was Martinez. Poor bastard got his face melted off by some kind of acid-spitting bug on Zephyrus Prime. And then there was Julien. The dumbest SOB I ever hired. He thought he could take on a pack of xenos with nothing but a pocketknife. You can guess how that turned out.”

  He chuckled, like it was all some big joke to him. I clenched my jaw, trying to keep my anger in check. These were people’s lives he was talking about. Good men and women who had died serving their planet. And here he was, treating it like a goddamn punchline.

  But then it hit me. The reason he was telling me all this is that he was low on experienced men. That’s why he needed me. I was one of the few who had survived a long time in the game. One of the few who knew how to handle myself when the shit hit the fan.

  It was a sobering thought. I’d always prided myself on my skills, on my ability to get the job done no matter what. But now I was starting to wonder if that was more of a curse than a blessing. How long could I keep rolling the dice before my luck ran out?

  The elevator finally shuddered to a stop, and the doors slid open. We stepped out into a vast underground complex, all gleaming metal alloys and high-tech equipment. This was XCU’s secret headquarters, the nerve center of their operations.

  Dom led me through a maze of corridors, past labs, training rooms and armories. I could see other case officers milling about, some of them giving me curious glances as we passed. Maybe some recognized me, and they were thinking, “hey, didn’t we fire that guy…?” I looked like I didn’t care what they thought—because I didn’t care.

  We finally reached the command center, there were banks of monitors and computers lining the walls. Even the ceiling showed a star pattern with colored dots and names referencing various colony worlds.

  The place was a techie’s wet dream—wall-to-wall monitors, blinking lights, and more buttons and switches than the bridge on a colonizer rig. A few pasty-faced operators sat hunched over their consoles, their eyes glued to screens.

  Here, Dom plopped his ass down in a chair, putting his feet up on the ops desk.

  “Welcome back to my humble abode,” he said, spreading his arms wide.

  I looked around, spotting a blinker on the ceiling and a matching screen in the banks encircling the room. “Haven-7” it read. “No contact.”

  “Is that the one?” I asked. “The one you want checked out?”

  “Good instincts. But first, you’ve got to impress the old man.”

  “Director Brandt? He’s still working this station?”

  “Yep. Seems almost permanent. I keep praying for his early retirement—no dice.”

  I looked around. A few operators worked keyboards and talked to their chin-piece microphones. It all looked pretty serene.

  “What are we waiting for?” I asked.

  A yellow light flashed over one of the doors that led out of the operations room. Dom pointed at it.

  “See that? The old man is in a hurry. You’re done cooling your heels. Come on, one more security check, and you’ll get your interview at last.”

  Chapter 5

  Dom led me to some towering robots. Bristling with weapons and armor, they stood silent and still, but I knew their unblinking gaze was all over me, tracking my every move.

  The robot guards moved in to pat me down, and even fondled my nuts like they were squeeze-toys. Their plastic-covered metallic hands quickly found my buzzblade.

  “Sir, this weapon is not permitted in the command center,” one of them said, all silky and very human sounding.

  Dom waved a hand dismissively. “It’s fine. Tanner’s with me.”

  The robot froze up, obviously talking to its central AI. At last, they stepped aside. Their faceplates were expressionless, and they didn’t argue. They allowed us to pass.

  Dom must have noticed me staring. “Impressive, aren’t they? Latest model—faster, stronger, smarter than anything else out there.”

  I grunted. I’d believe it when I saw it. I’d tangled with enough tin cans to know they were never as tough as they looked.

  He shook his head and laughed at me again. It grated on my nerves like nails on a chalkboard, but I bit my tongue.

  I got left alone in front of the old man’s door. There was nothing special about it, except for the sign that read “Director.” Brandt liked to keep things simple.

  Rapping my knuckles against the door, I heard a muffled voice called out, “Enter.”

  I stepped inside, sizing up the man behind the desk. Brandt was balding, with a face that had seen better days. He had the look of a man who was used to getting what he wanted.

  “Tanner?” he said, flatly. “Good to see you. You sure you want to come back… inside?”

  I shrugged. “Looks that way. Sorry I’ve got some blood on me, but Dom tested me on the way over here. The rain only washed some of it away.”

  Brandt let the comments pass by and leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers. He picked up a slip of computer plastic from his desk. The clear material lit up at his touch. “Here you are. Dane Tanner. Staff Sergeant, Special Forces… Two tours, honorable discharge. You’ve been freelancing for places like XCU ever since.”

  “Uh… not entirely. I was working at the Complex doing security work.”

  Brandt shrugged. “That’s almost the same thing. You want to know why I’m looking at your record, Tanner? Why I haven’t hugged you and welcomed you aboard instantly?”

  A half-dozen good reasons came to mind, but I didn’t say anything.

  Brandt’s lips folded up. “I’m concerned about the way you exited this organization the last time... You left us high and dry. We’re not really into kissing and making up with quitters.”

  I bristled, not liking the way he said “quitters.” Like I was some kind of coward. I’d refused to do a job and been fired for it, actually.

  This time, my brain managed to stop my mouth before it was too late. I decided not to bring that up. My voice shifted to a neutral tone. “I had my reasons, sir.”

  Brandt’s leaned toward me. I could smell his aftershave. Why did old dudes always put on too much?

  “Sure, sure…” he said. “So, what’s changed?”

  I met his gaze, unflinching. “Dom called me up. I needed the work. That’s the whole story.”

  Brandt scoffed. “So, let me put it another way. Are you here to help out colonists? Or are you just hard-up for money?”

  My blood pressure ticked up a notch. I could feel it. Why did guys like Brandt always have to make it complicated? “Does it matter one way or the other?”

  Brandt considered that. “I just need to know you’re not a quitter—not this time.”

  That was it for me. I threw my hands wide. Turning, I put my hand on the door handle. “Sorry to waste your time, sir. If you don’t think I’m up to the job, then find somebody else.”

  I waited just a second before opening the door. I was serious, but I was playing a hunch, too. I’d had enough of this place the last time I’d left, and I didn’t need to start off as a second-class citizen for round two. I’d eat dog food—no, scratch that, I’d eat dog shit before I begged to be let back inside XCU.

  That hesitation… it turned out to be long enough.

  A single word from Brandt stopped me. “Wait.”

  I paused, glaring over my shoulder but grinning inside.

  Brandt sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “You always play hardball, don’t you?”

  “I like a certain level of respect, sir. I’m the one risking my own balls out there on some alien planet.”

  “You’re right… but mostly because we need you.”

  I turned back around, crossing my arms. “What’s the job? What’s gone wrong out at Haven-7?”

  “You’re still the same Tanner I remember. You’re not supposed to know the target—no one outside this office—”

  “You didn’t send Dom after me for my good looks. Tell me the deal. What kind of operation are we talking about, here?”

  Brandt grunted. “Haven-7 is a remote colony. We’ve got an agent out there, feeding us intel for many years—or at least we did have one. Silas is his name. He goes by the alias ‘The Preacher.’”

  I raised an eyebrow. “The Preacher, huh?”

  “Silas’ been our eyes and ears. Things have been brewing out there—a split has developed in the population. A growing dispute. A few months ago, his reports stopped coming.”

  I frowned. “So, what do you want me to do about it?”

  “I want you to go to Haven-7. Find Silas. Find out what’s happening out there. Render assistance, if necessary, then come back and give me a full report.”

  “What’s the timing on this?”

  “Yesterday. Last week would be better. If you take the job, you’re flying tonight.”

  Tonight…? Damn. The truth was, I’d had some fantasies. I’d figured I’d look up Tina, maybe… Wasn’t she working here someplace?

  But I wasn’t getting that kind of vibe. This wasn’t going to be a desk job. I’d been a field operative before, sure. An XCU case officer from Earth, doing the rounds… but I hadn’t really expected that kind of thing to kick off immediately.

  I let out a low whistle. “Just like that, huh? You’re sending me out into the field right away? Can’t I pay my rent first?”

  “We’ll pay your rent if you sign. Six months, in advance.”

  My hand rubbed at my chin. That was a nice signing perk. But it also indicated Brandt thought I might be gone for quite a while. Good thing I didn’t have an ant farm… or goldfish.

  Brandt took my expression the wrong way. His face hardened. “This isn’t a joke, Tanner. Silas was a good man. I want to send help. I also need to know what’s been going on out there.”

  I couldn’t help but notice he’d used the word “was” concerning Silas. If that wasn’t a slip, I’d never heard one.

  I held up my hands. “Okay. You got me. I’m in. But I need more to go on than just ‘find Silas.’”

  Brandt nodded. He flicked up some slides. The place looked kind of arid. Not a desert, mind you, but I’d call it “desert adjacent.”

  “Haven-7 is divided into two factions,” he said. “The Techborn and the Dusters. The Techborn are the descendants of the original crew. They’ve got the colony ship—which crashed on landing, by the way.”

  “A total loss?”

  “No. It will never fly again, but the Arabella isn’t scrap metal. The Techborn live inside her. They’ve got the best tools, the best resources.”

  “What about the other side?”

  “The Dusters are the outcasts, the peasant class. The descendants of people who bought cheap-seats on Arabella for the long flight out from Earth. They work the land and farm—that kind of crap.”

  “A dirt world? Techborn and Dusters?” I snorted. “Sounds like a real paradise.”

  Brandt frowned. He did that a lot. “Try to keep up. Silas’ has been working with the Dusters. Trying to keep the peace between the two factions. But something’s changed. We need to know what.”

  “And you think I’m the man for the job?”

  Brandt met my gaze, unflinching. “You’re the only man. The rest of my experienced officers are in the field already. I know you can do this, it’ll be easy. Just fly out there, find that poor bastard Silas, and come home.”

  This wasn’t the kind of situation I was used to. I was more of a “shoot first, ask questions later” kind of guy. But Brandt was the boss. If he wanted me to fly tonight—I’d do it.

  It was now very clear to me that he didn’t have a lot of options. Quite possibly, his only option was me.

  I stood up, my chair scraping against the floor. “All right, Brandt. I’ll think about it.”

  Brandt’s eyes narrowed. “Think about it? What kind of shit is that? There’s nothing to think about, Tanner. You’re either in or you’re out.”

  Shaking my head, I made for the door. I needed the money, hell yeah, but I was already sick of this place. The secrets, the lies, the bullshit. It was just like before. Everything that had driven me out of this place was still here. Hell, I bet Brandt was holding back eighty percent of what I needed to know even now.

  Silas was a great agent? Didn’t that indicate Brandt knew he was dead? Which meant he was airmailing me out to some crazy planet to find a dead man?

  For a second time, I put my hand on that door handle. I meant to leave this time.

  But Brandt’s voice stopped me again. “If you walk out that door, Tanner, Miss Tina Lazar is out of a job, too.”

  I froze. What an asshole. He knew I had a thing for that girl. I turned back around, my jaw clenched and stabbed a threatening finger at him. “You’re a son of a bitch.”

  Brandt smirked. He spread his big hands wide. “Guilty! Come on, Tanner. One mission! That’s all I’m asking for. Just a little scouting trip to find our missing agent. You do that, and you get your rent paid. Tina keeps her job. Everybody’s happy. Everybody wins.”

  I glared at him, because I knew I was trapped. I needed the money. And I couldn’t let Tina down.

  “You’re hustling me,” I said, “but all right. One mission—that’s it.”

  Brandt’s smile widened. He touched a contact on his desk, and instantly the door opened.

  Dr. Felix Renn stood there with his skinny arms crossed. He looked like he had to pee or something. I got the feeling he’d been hanging around outside the office waiting impatiently during the whole interview—if you could even call it an interview.

  “About time,” he muttered. His accent was British.

  I frowned and turned back. “What about contracts?” I asked Brandt. “I’m not doing this without something in writing.”

  Brandt reached into his desk, pulling out a familiar tablet. My old contract swam on the screen.

  “Of course. Touch here,” he said, pointing to the round thumb-circle at the bottom.

  I frowned at the document. “No signing bonus? Where’s the part about my six months of rent?”

  Brandt glared at me. He grabbed the tablet back and scrawled some numbers in the bonus area. It was a healthy block of credits.

  Damn. Wherever he lived, the rent was higher than I was used to—but I wasn’t going to say anything. I could live for a year on that—maybe longer.

  I hesitated, but only for a moment. I pressed my thumb to the scanner, watching as my print was scanned and analyzed. The green circle lit up, showing the deal was sealed.

  Brandt snatched the device away and made it vanish into his desk again.

  “There,” he said. “That didn’t hurt, did it?”

  “No, sir!”

  I put out my hand, and he shook it. We smiled at each other like we were friends—but we weren’t, and we never would be.

  I followed Dr. Renn out of the office then, feeling like I’d just been railroaded. I couldn’t believe I was doing this shit again. Putting my life on the line for XCU had always been a rough way to make a buck.

  Chapter 6

  I followed Dr. Renn down a sterile hallway. LED lights glowed overhead. The place hadn’t changed a bit since I’d last been here.

  Renn led me into the Transmission Lab, a cavernous space filled with blinking machines and whirring gadgets. In the center of it all stood the portal.

  The high-tech circular portal projector stood dormant. It was a large, ring-shaped frame made from a sleek metallic alloy. The structure reflected its surroundings like a distorted mirror. Occasionally, the techno mirror’s surface flickered with residual energy. Subtle shimmers of blue and green hinted at its power.