I wondered how I was supposed to do that. It probably involved lying, though. Dad and the chief stopped talking as we approached. “I hope you have an explanation for all of this,” my dad said.

  “Uh … ” I realized that I hadn’t really thought through a good, convincing explanation. Other than the straight truth, which come to think of it would probably net me an appointment for a psych eval. Dad knew at least part of the story by this point, but the chief, not so much.

  “Short answer—really short answer—the mercenaries work for a group that’s in direct competition with the group we’re working with. The stakes are a lot higher than we realized, and it’s way, way beyond simple corporate espionage.” That was almost not a lie, and it was mostly for the chief’s benefit. I felt both proud and ashamed.

  “There were some people in business suits,” my dad replied. “Did you see where they ended up?”

  And there was my chance. “Over the hill.” I pointed in the general direction of Nat’s ex-employer. “I don’t think they expected a firefight. Or for the cops to show up so fast. They may be based in the Tate Industrial Park.”

  Rogers nodded slowly. “All right. We’ll bring in a chopper and do an aerial search. Thanks, Jack.”

  During this exchange, the other cops had been bundling up the mercs for transport and collecting weapons. Rogers started to turn away, then stopped. “Herman, we’ll send around units to remove these vehicles from your front yard. ‘Fraid I can’t do much about the bullet holes in your porch, though.”

  “I’m more concerned about cleaning up the idiot who tried to kick in my door. No way I want Janice having to deal with that.”

  Rogers nodded. “I’ll have Forensics take care of it. You take her out for dinner or something.”

  The two men parted with something more than a nod but less than a salute. I saw my opportunity. “I’m going to check that nothing in the barn was disturbed. You should take the chief’s advice. I’ll watch the fort.”

  Dad cocked his head and gave me an appraising stare for a moment, then smiled. “Okay. But call me if there’s any kind of issue.” He turned and started to leave, then stopped. “Oh, by the way, there’s a letter for you from MIT. Might be important. It’s on the kitchen counter.”

  I was just coming out of the house when a set of stairs descended from midair and people began trooping down. They appeared to be human, all male, and seemed to come in two sizes: more or less normal height and basketball-player height. One of the basketball players walked directly to me. “I am Senior Tactical Officer San-Joh, representing Commander Nond and leading this cleanup operation. You are one of the representatives from the Halo Mahste?”

  “I am. Jack Kernigan, space pirate. Or so I’m told.” I stuck the letter from MIT in my back pocket and gestured to the barn. “The Loranna are still in there, according to the Ship Intelligence. They have disruptors.”

  “We are prepared. Please move yourself and any companions well out of range. We will attempt to capture them without damage to the structure, but cannot guarantee it.”

  Oh great. It occurred to me that if things went any more pear-shaped, I was going to have to spill the whole thing to my father. On the other hand, that seemed inevitable anyway. He wouldn’t be satisfied with the short version. And that would be the end of the adventure. Which, come to think of it, wasn’t sounding so bad anymore. Almost getting nuked tended to put a different spin on things.

  Patrick and I moved quickly to the other end of the property and turned to watch. The task-force members made a motion of pulling something down over their faces, although we couldn’t see anything, either before or after. I suspected there was cloaked equipment involved. Then they moved to the barn. One individual opened the people door and ducked back, while another tossed something inside. There was a bang.

  In moments, people in business suits rushed out of the barn, gagging and coughing. A couple were waving weapons, but didn’t seem in good enough shape to really do anything. The task force scooped them up as they came out, slapped something on them, and threw them to the ground.

  Once the Loranna were bundled away, San-Joh started in our direction. We got up and met him halfway. Or was it a her? It occurred to me that I couldn’t make assumptions about gender. Or even about the number of genders, come to think of it. But the cloaking image was male, so I’d go with that.

  “You said there were six, correct?”

  I nodded, then realized that might mean yes, no, or your mama to an alien. “That is correct.”

  “Excellent. We have them all. I suggest you let the structure aerate for at least a quarter of a planetary rotation. Unless you enjoy regurgitating your last meal.”

  “Uh, we’ll pass on that,” Patrick said. The wagon doors began opening on their own. Apparently, Sheldon was listening.

  San-Joh turned back to his ship. Well, to the gangplank hanging in midair, anyway. “We must now join the main group, which is disassembling the Lorannic nest. I would offer you a ride, but we really don’t want you there. Sorry.”

  I laughed as San-Joh marched off. “I kinda like the Gen.”

  Patrick guffawed. “Yeah, so maybe don’t run them over in the future.”

  “Asshole.”

  “That’s a terrible thing to say to the guy who may or may not want to give you a ride to the industrial park.”

  I grinned back at Patrick. “I stand by my statement. Let’s go.”

  Chapter Forty: Disassembly

  We arrived at the industrial park in very little time. All the excitement seemed to have given Patrick access to a whole new warp factor.

  A large number of black SUVs were taking up most of the traffic circle at the front of the park. That seemed odd. Why would the Covenant use SUVs? Or cars, period? I resisted the urge to go over and touch them to see if cloaking was involved.

  Chief Rogers was standing on the sidewalk, hands on hips, watching the activity. We walked up to him, and he said, without turning or otherwise acknowledging our presence, “CIA. Apparently. I’ve got one of my guys checking their story, but for now, I’m just a spectator.”

  I looked over the scene. The front of the Harris office building was wide open. More to the point, the doors were missing and the frame was bent. Subtle. People in black suits were going in and out in two lines, like ants queueing at the nest entrance. I noted in passing that, a) they were no longer all male, and b) unlike the group back at the barn, they only came in human-normal height. Either the Gen were taking a back seat, or they’d adjusted their cloaking fields to appear more normal.

  It was a Saturday, but there were always brownnosers working weekends. A dozen or so Harris employees milled around on the ornamental lawn in front of the building.

  “Looks like they’re out of a job, too,” Nat’s voice said from behind me. She stepped forward to join us. “I had Sheldon drop me off a few blocks away and I walked. I really wanted to see this.”

  One of the supposed CIA headed toward us. As he got closer, I saw it was San-Joh, but shorter now. Chief Rogers started to step forward as he got near, but San-Joh walked right past Rogers without so much as a glance. He stopped in front of me. “Mr. Kernigan, notwithstanding my earlier commentary, I am temporarily glad to see you. We have something I’d like your opinion on.”

  The third floor looked considerably different from the last time I was there. For one thing, every single drawer, cabinet, and cupboard had been opened and emptied, some apparently with the help of crowbars. For another, it was crawling with what to all appearances were CIA agents.

  “The fourth floor is far more interesting,” San-Joh said, “although there is something here that I found very curious, and I hoped you might have a perspective on it.”

  “Wait, fourth floor?” Nat exclaimed. “There’s a fourth floor?”

  I face-palmed. “Dimensional manipulation. Wow. They can do that?”

  “Only in the vertical dimension in this case, due to structural constraints,” San-Joh replied.

  “I guess that answers the question of whether the Loranna own the place,” I muttered. “You can’t build something like that unless you’re in charge.”

  “True.” Nat nodded. “Which helps clarify just how long these aliens have been here.”

  San-Joh had walked up to a workstation while we talked. Now he turned the monitor around to face us. One window was open, showing what I recognized as a freeware process-explorer utility. And it was showing line after line of … mining daemons?

  “To the extent that my specialists have been able to explain it, this does not seem normal,” San-Joh said. “Employees who were questioned say that their systems have been extremely slow for several days. Loranna who’ve been interrogated had no explanation and in fact seemed perplexed. They did mention that it started immediately after someone successfully penetrated their systems. Given your recent activities, I thought you might have some insights.”

  I frowned, a suspicion growing in the back of my mind. “Sounds like mining daemons. Bitcoin mining daemons.”

  “Exactly what my specialists said,” San-Joh replied. “Which is no help, other than to give a name to the phenomenon. Any idea how they got there?”

  I started to reply, No, of course not, then stopped. I closed my eyes slowly and subvocalized, “Sheldon? Care to comment?”

  There was a hesitation before he replied through my cling-on.

  “Well, when we hacked into their systems, I thought it would be interesting to see just what the software that caused your issues with MIT would do. Up close, if you will. So I took a few milliseconds and uploaded it.”

  “That’s … interesting,” I replied. “I feel like I should be angry, but I can’t think of a single reason why. Did you learn anything useful?”

  “Oh, quite so,” Sheldon said. “Based on the actions of the loader, I was able to solve your problem with MIT. It seems the daemons only partially overwrote the hacker’s ID with yours. I forwarded an explanation to the administration the same day, with instructions on how to identify the miscreant. Did I forget to mention this?”

  “What?” I exclaimed in my outside voice. Everyone around me jumped. Several “CIA agents” made abortive grabs for weapons.

  “Mr. Kernigan?” San-Joh said.

  I showed him my teeth. Definitely not a smile. “I think I have an explanation for you. Can you give me just a second?”

  I pulled the letter from MIT out of my back pocket and opened it.

  Dear Mr. Kernigan,

  Based on an investigation of your case, it has been determined that you were the victim of a computer hacker and are not in any way culpable. The offending party has been identified and charges are pending. Accordingly, you will be returned to full status in good standing. We look forward to welcoming you back to campus for the upcoming semester.

  Yours truly,

  P. Simmons

  Office of the Registrar

  Unbelievable.

  I handed the letter to Nat, then explained to San-Joh about our hacking job, leaving nothing out. At this point, I wasn’t sure how much they already knew anyway. Meanwhile, Nat read the letter with Patrick looking over her shoulder. They began to laugh simultaneously.

  When I was done with my explanation, San-Joh shook his head in disbelief. “Apparently it played havoc with the Loranna’s operations sufficiently that you were able to stay ahead of them. I doubt they’d have had any trouble capturing you otherwise.” San-Joh examined the ceiling in silence for several seconds. “My Library Intelligence has supplied a human term. Clusterfuck. It seems appropriate.” He turned to us. “Commander Nond will wish to interview you as soon as we’re done here. Please make yourselves available. You aren’t officially space pirates yet.”

  Chapter Forty-One: Wrapping It Up

  Day 31. Sunday

  Twenty-four hours had gone by without a call from the Covenant task force. It would have been too much to hope for that they’d forgotten about us, but they were no doubt very busy. We still had Karen and Arley on ice in the Halo, but we couldn’t think of a way to hand them over without either releasing them or exposing Sheldon to capture. So that was on hold, too.

  Nat was back at home, taking care of her father. Because of her current employment status, she would be able to spend all her time with him, at least until she found a new job. Her aunt, however, had offered to pay part of the cost for a full-time nurse, commenting that she hadn’t realized how much of a burden it really was. My parents stepped in as well to cover the rest of the bill. As ashamed as I was of the thought, I admitted to myself that it probably wouldn’t be for long. Mr. Neilson was not in good shape.

  Patrick had gone home to see his family. No doubt Tim would already be driving him crazy with questions.

  Sheldon was finally safely hidden in the barn, and I was dreading the inevitable callback from the Gennan task force commander. As was Sheldon, for that matter.

  I leaned back in my chair, aimed the remote, and turned the TV sound back on:

  “Astronomers continue to be puzzled by what they are describing as a sudden proliferation of gravity-wave detections in the last two days from the new LIGO systems. LIGO stands for Laser Interferometer Gravitational-Wave Observatory—systems designed specifically to search for these types of disturbances in the heavens.

  “Even more perplexing to the scientists, measurements seem to imply that the sources of these events are inside the solar system. One physicist has suggested spontaneous wormhole formations, but no one can give an explanation for why this would be happening now.

  “UFO groups have begun gathering, predicting everything from imminent extraterrestrial contact, to the coming of interstellar arks to transport humanity to an unspoiled paradise, to a punitive force ready to destroy humanity for our poor stewardship of the Earth.”

  “Any resemblance to actual reality is totally coincidental,” Sheldon opined. “You humans are incapable of concentrating long enough to get the most basic facts straight. Sometimes it even seems like you take perverse pride in getting them as wrong as possible.”

  “Naw … Facts are just boring. We have a saying: Never let the facts get in the way of a good story.” I turned and grinned up at the Halo, resting on its landing pads in the barn’s open area. “But if it’ll make you feel better—”

  Sheldon interrupted me. “Sorry, Jack. It appears my time may in fact be up. The Gen have just contacted me and extended an invitation. A nonoptional one. Failure to comply would place us permanently in the pirate category.”

  “Dammit.” I compressed my lips for a moment. “Well, might as well get it over with. Send an acknowledgment. Then call everyone and tell them we’ll pick them up.”

  The Halo floated out the open wagon doors, then accelerated rapidly into the air. In ten seconds, we were hovering behind Patrick’s garage.

  Patrick came out of the house, looked around, then made a lowering gesture in our general direction. Sheldon lowered the airlock stairs, and Patrick boarded. In a few moments, he came into the conference room door and took a seat. The view then shifted rapidly as Sheldon flew to Natalie’s home.

  Soon Natalie was on board as well, and there was no more delay to be had. I swiveled my chair indecisively a few times, then looked up. “Take us to wherever they want to meet, Sheldon.”

  “Is there any kind of preparation we can make?” Patrick asked. “Should we leave someone on board so they can’t blow Sheldon up? Or would they just do it anyway?”

  “The Gen aren’t barbarians, Patrick. They wouldn’t destroy a ship so casually. But I must admit, I’d feel safer with one of you on board.”

  “I’ll stay, then,” Patrick said. “And I’ll barricade the airlocks if I have to.”

  “We will be landing in a docking bay. But I appreciate the thought.”

  “Anything else we should know?” Nat asked.

  “The Gen are not violent or unreasonable, but they are proud and perhaps somewhat inflexible in their opinions. As I mentioned previously, they are very by-the-book.”

  “Vulcans,” Nat muttered.

  “Not incorrect. They will not tolerate prevarication and prefer straightforward speech. Do not go out of your way to offend them, but do speak directly and frankly.”

  I nodded. “Got it.”

  “The fleet is stationed in low-altitude station-keeping on the far side of your moon, so that they can decloak. It will be quite visually impressive. You should consider moving to the bridge for final approach.”

  Nat and I leaped to our feet and rushed for the door. Patrick muttered, “Nerds,” and followed more slowly.

  The Covenant fleet was indeed impressive, although I had some trouble judging the scale. At least fifty ships were visible at various distances out to and including barely, so there could very well have been more ships too far away to see. Interestingly, although every ship was built around a basic spheroid shape, there were enough variations to be confusing. And most of the hulls displayed various accretions and accessories that could have been sensors or weapons, or TV antennas for all I knew.

  “How big is that one dead center, Sheldon?”

  “Seven hundred and eighty-two meters along its maximum length. It is the Gennan heavy cruiser Vongerel, which translates as Resolute. The battleships and dreadnoughts would be larger, but I’m surprised to see even a cruiser present on what should be considered a police action.”

  “Wow, that’s big,” Patrick commented. “I’m a little surprised they didn’t do the larger inside thing.”

  “They did,” Sheldon replied. “The inside is more than five kilometers along the same dimension.”

  “Holy shit,” was all Patrick could say.

  As we watched, the Vongerel grew larger in the center monitor, until the edges of the cruiser disappeared off to the sides and it became an approaching wall. In the center of the view, a well-lit rectangular opening made its presence known with an alternating blue and green frame.