“I would not have bothered you otherwise. I think the time has come for you to take action.”

  Aziz laid out his issues, all of which involved lack of trust. He expected betrayal and most important, theft of the remaining two warships. Amayas pondered for dramatic effect.

  “Thank you, Aziz. I long hoped the Alliance would encourage its members to follow their better angels. I thought the Splinter might be an effective tool. The rest was clearly stated in the charter.”

  “Amayas, I know you want us to rise above our differences and unite, but we seem unable to learn. For centuries, we needed the Chancellors’ guidance. Now even they are a disaster."

  “Do they know of your suspicions?”

  “They do not. Will you execute the backup plan?”

  “Yes. We need to avoid complications. I have an excellent team in place, including a recent addition who is eager to see action.”

  “Tell me what to do, Amayas.”

  “Timing will be essential. Follow my instructions exactly.”

  Again, this felt like something the Inventor long ago circled on his calendar. Amayas laid out a timetable for his ship and escort to arrive, for how and when to evacuate workers and diplomats.

  “We’ll make certain Hermes and Charybdis are protected,” he told Hussein. “I’ll have a team on the ground to detain your enemies. You’ll join me for the maiden flight, Aziz. Your hard work will not go without reward. Trust me.”

  “Always.” Hussein signed out.

  The bells went off inside Royal. He knew where to focus mirror reads in the morning.

  “We’re going to steal those warships,” he said. “You didn’t build them for the Zwahilis.”

  “No. As I said, all my designs have a larger purpose. I’ve known the Chancellors would make another play for these ships. I did not read the future properly before they stole Scylla. I made certain not to be caught off-guard this time. Our fortunes are about to take a major turn. Shin, you know what to do? Yes?”

  “I will start to work at once.”

  “Royal, many events will occur at Arakaat. Timing will be uncertain, but some moments will be fixed in place before we arrive. Until now, I insisted you focus on Alliance worlds. Euphrates and Zwahili Kingdom are prime among them. However, you might find the events on Aeterna and the Chancellor fleets to be equally consequential. Finish your sleep. Wake refreshed. See the mirrors with a new eye. We’ll begin drawing battle plans tomorrow.”

  He did as instructed.

  The galactic landscape shifted.

  Royal discovered a certain former lover was alive and well among the immortals. He was happy and preparing for combat, too. He wore orange hair and found someone new to share his bed. In a few days, he too would arrive on Arakaat.

  Royal intended to greet him.

  7

  T HE REUNION WITH EXETER WOOLSEY went exactly as the future scripted. He never saw Exeter’s face behind that black and bronze helmet, but he heard the voice. Stronger, defiant. Royal was proud. Yet he could not resist a final prod and claimed to still love Exeter.

  “You never loved me,” Exeter shouted near the shipyard’s viewing platform. “It was only him. The first one.”

  So, he finally understood. No one would replace Kai Durin. Ever.

  Royal orchestrated events to position himself where Exeter would land when the Aeternans arrived. His side venture did not interfere with mission objectives or timing. The warships were long gone, with Amayas supervising Hermes while Shin led the way on Charybdis. Royal’s Splinter Vanguard provided protection, with four of his unit on each vessel. On the ground, evacuations proceeded. Royal executed most of Angela Poussard’s team, leaving the disgraced Chancellor and her assistant, Siobhan Morrow, to the Aeternans. It was a gift.

  He’d seen the next hour. Exeter would kill Siobhan.

  First, all fighting needed to cease. Royal communicated to the Vanguard, telling them to prepare for the tether. All but four responded. Amayas had warned there would be casualties.

  Royal intended to honor them at The Hold.

  He turned from Exeter and leaped over the platform’s railing. He made a smooth landing, gave it a second, and looked up. Exeter stared back. It was good enough for today.

  Every instinct shouted, I’ll see you again.

  He saw nothing in the mirrors to indicate a near-future reunion, but they had plenty of time. Centuries, if necessary.

  Royal slipped away and retrieved the Splinter. He opened the path which brought them to Arakaat and heard the song of the tether. His team did not have to be close by to join him. They had stood at his side before departure and became consumed in the path of his choice. The very act tied them to The Hold.

  In a blink, he stood in the central corridor, not far from a vault which led to the surface. Thirteen SVs returned. The four who did not proved a theory: The tether lost its connection to humans without life signs.

  Royal threw off his second skin, congratulated his men, and helped tend the wounded. Royal, his lieutenants, and two others entered battle wearing the gold. He hoped to exact a promise from Amayas: No more engagements until all his men were invincible. Though their combat skills were not as refined as the Talons, these men grew on Royal. A sense of brotherhood, which he had not felt since being exiled from Scylla, returned with new fire.

  For the next ten hours, Royal commanded The Hold. Shin and Amayas needed the time to work out matters with Persians who wouldn’t understand about “protective custody,” offload them to their homes, and jump the warships here. Despite their losses, the soldiers were in good spirits; they joined Royal for a meal. Royal felt raging hunger after each tether. He filled his stomach with several helpings of beef and settled in for a nice smoke.

  “What does it feel like to see real action?”

  His question drew smiles and nods of satisfaction.

  “Keeps you wide awake, General,” one said.

  “Light-years better than pretending,” said another.

  “Best day of my life, General.” “Terrifying as fuck, but worth it.” “Glad we got out of there alive.” “Not a bad start, General, but we got work to do.”

  The sentiments made sense, but Royal keyed in on Shan Dharma of Boer. The tallest of the unit – five inches above Royal – Shan also struck his General as the most analytical of the team.

  “General, we left ourselves too exposed,” Shan said. “The enemy had the literal high ground.”

  Royal concurred.

  “They also had numbers. They took out four of us; we hit two of them. That’s how the future said it was going to play out.”

  “But if we knew the future, sir, why not change the plan?”

  “The future is a coit. When she’s fixed, we have to do what she tells us. For the proper events to happen after our engagement, we needed to fight from that specific posture. Even if you broke formation, Shan, it would’ve happened just like the future predicted. If the future isn’t fixed, we can play around with it. That’s the kind of fight we’ll be looking for. Plus, we were shooting at assholes with jetpacks. I’m sure their tech had us pegged either way.”

  “Perhaps we will consider jetpacks, sir?”

  “It’s a thought. I’d rather get my hands on a Force Drum than a jetpack. It won’t matter after we have golden skins for everybody. The enemy can drop from the sky like a damn thunderstorm, and they won’t make a dent.”

  “True,” said Onyx Shepard of Mauritania. “I felt ten feet tall inside my skin. When we are all golden, every enemy will run from us.”

  He said it to cheers, but Royal offered a buzzkill.

  “The smart ones will. Then they’ll regroup, upgrade their armor and bide their time until they can match us straight-up. The Aeternans wore armor very close to Talon design. You fellas are good damn shots, but you only brought down two. And fuck, they’re immortal, so they’re not licking their wounds. But next time? Their armor will be stronger. Much harder to pierce.”

  “Was it as hard to kill the Swarm?”

  “Almost.”

  “What happens when the armor is so good, no one makes a kill?”

  “With the Swarm, it often came down to hand-to-hand. You need to be as good with a blade as a blaster. Bodysuit armor is tender at the neck collar. I slit many a throat.”

  They asked him to tell more stories of fighting the Swarm. He only shared a few during the many weeks of training, as Royal didn’t want to build up an enemy so deadly they’d fear it rather than prepare to face it. Tonight, he spoke of two engagements, both of which ended triumphant for his Talon unit.

  Later, as others ventured off to their bunks, Royal couldn’t get the Swarm out of his mind. No one asked about the long-term strategy to fight the invaders, but those questions were inevitable. His answers would have been incomplete. Even Royal didn’t know the extent of Amayas’s scheme. The Inventor parsed it in small doses, always insisting he followed the future’s guidance. What wasn’t he saying? Did he have doubts about completing his timetable before an invasion?

  Royal had no use for sleep, but every need to look across the divide. He had ideas where to start the search. He doubted much had changed in Swarm or Talon leadership in the three months since he left. If Amayas was right, and the next step toward invasion was a peace settlement, then the future would show a dramatic shift in the headwinds of war.

  He walked among the forest of mirrors, this time excluding his home universe from relevant subsets. He zeroed in on familiar names and places. Foremost among them were Tarons. He began with Bonju, the man who presented himself as salvation but then used Royal and the Talons to test Splinter navigation across the divide. He had the power to bring enemies together if they believed his prediction of catastrophe.

  Royal also narrowed in on Gen. Hoija Taron, a Hokki who was the Swarm’s most dangerous collaborator. From there, he ventured to Swarm Admiralty, the Orzed Federation, and finally, Division LM, the Swarm’s intelligence agency. The stories Royal heard made their torture chambers seem far worse than the Huryan ponds.

  He read millions of subsets over the next three hours, the images often infuriating. The war continued unabated, but Royal saw subtle changes in combat patterns on both sides. Nothing raised a red flag until Bonju sent a cryptic message to an LM officer. Royal followed the officer’s future subset – one standard day from now.

  Lt. Eliza Doshenko held junior status in LM’s Acquisitions Sector, which focused on long-range Swarm expansion. They made deals with trade contractors and politicians on currently peaceful planets to lay the groundwork for future collaboration when the Swarm invaded. They were the quiet vanguard.

  He saw Eliza run Bonju’s message through a decryption program. She deleted it after a quick read and reported to an older officer, a gray-haired man with a full belly and a chest decorated in bars.

  “Major, I have confirmation.”

  His considerable jowls tensed.

  “Direct from the source? No doubt?”

  “They’re moving forward with the first wave.”

  “We’re not prepared. No one is. Does the source offer a remedy?”

  “One word. Sturgeon.”

  The old Major reflected for a moment, and Royal recognized the name. The SGC Sturgeon was the Swarm’s invasion flagship. For decades, the supercarrier entered every targeted star system ahead of the fleet. From there, the Swarm Admiralty proclaimed the victim world to be theirs. It contained the core military and civilian leadership. Talon armadas failed on countless tries to take it out.

  “Interesting,” the Major said. “I received a communique earlier. All divisions will send reps to Sturgeon for a convocation tomorrow. Code name: Mustard grass.”

  She tapped a finger against her right temple.

  “Mustard grass. Sir, those letters formed an acrostic in the decrypted message.”

  “What do you make of it, Lieutenant?”

  “He’s saying we make our stand there, sir. We won’t be alone.”

  “That’s a hopeful leap, Lieutenant. But it may be our best choice to hold off disaster. We haven’t been called to convocation in two years. They never move forward without approval from Acquisitions.”

  “Yes, sir. We can’t soften the road with planets we can’t access.”

  Eliza’s words made Royal’s blood run cold. This wasn’t about typical Swarm expansion. They planned to cross the divide into the Alpha universe. Had to be.

  Royal stepped away from the mirror. His head hurt. Reading the future was complex enough, but listening for precise dialogue proved exhausting. Amayas warned him to listen for patterns, not precise language. Most future subsets came flush with feelings and visuals, a clear set of relationships – enough to see outcomes. But specific spoken words? Even in a fixed future, they were the most malleable.

  He dared not let go of the subset, so Royal followed emotions and images. He set his focus on both the Major and the Lieutenant. If this was indeed the grand announcement of a plan to invade Alpha, what were these two going to do about it? Why were they apparently in league with Bonju, a Hokki scientist? Royal tried not to confuse the issue. All he had to go on now was the future.

  He followed the officers off-duty, where they did nothing of note. By the morning, however, both left the Acquisitions office in Division LM Ground Headquarters. They boarded Admin Transport Barrister 5 along with nearly two hundred other officers from many divisions of Swarm HQ. A few F-grounders, wearing the tensile green armor Royal saw up close for six years, rushed onboard at the last second. He followed the Major and Lieutenant to their seats. Rather than jumping into Worm as expected, the ATB-5 started for the nearest city.

  Royal didn’t recognize it. A few buildings were burned out shells, and plumes of smoke were scattershot, but he knew the signs: The Swarm held control here. The Major and Lieutenant said nothing as the ship continued east of the city. The Major tapped the Lieutenant’s shoulder and said he was going to the lavatory. He returned to his seat just before the ship landed in a grassy clearance.

  He remained seated; she headed toward the egress. A pair of F-grounders joined her. They followed Eliza to the front doors of a centuries-old temple that stood alone in a field.

  They pulled open the double doors.

  Twelve Hokki men and women emerged in ragged clothes. Their faces were soiled. They looked like some of the refuse who lived in the shadows of Zozo when Royal was a boy. He thought they were prisoners, yet they saluted the Lieutenant.

  Swarm collaborators. The fuck?

  She returned the salute, and the dozen proceeded to the ship. They left one man in the doorway: Clean and fresh, a well-manicured beard, the Swarm scorpion emblazed on his tan shirt. He wore black gloves and matching beret common to Division LM’s Prosecution sector.

  The DLM officer said nothing while handing Eliza a small box.

  Could it be? It was the right size.

  Why?

  None of it made sense. Who were those twelve Hokkis? Why land a full military transport in the middle of nowhere to pick them up? Their next stop was the Swarm flagship.

  Royal gave pause. Maybe he’d fallen too far into the blades of grass. This was a variant. An unsettled future. He needed to change perspective. Find new subsets. Find new …

  Before he blinked away, the DLM and Eliza were thrown on their backs. The Barrister 5 exploded.

  Royal shifted to Eliza’s point of view.

  She struggled to her feet. The F-grounders who accompanied her fired at the enemy. Waves of laser blasts screamed around them and steadily focused until converging at the most vulnerable location. They decapitated the F-grounders clean at the neck.

  That’s when Eliza saw the attacker.

  A monster in a golden shell. The mirror’s whispers reached a crescendo. Royal heard his name. Unmistakable.

  Royal watched the scene play out with giddiness. Just like with the attack on Arakaat, Royal did not have a direct view of his own future, but he could watch it unfold through other eyes.

  Minutes later, the subset ended in darkness when the last of two hundred fifteen men and women died and Royal no longer had access to his future. He scanned forward along many subsets, looking for the immediate fallout from the attack. Satisfied by what he saw, Royal broke from the mirrors.

  “This is it.” He mumbled while pacing. “I’ll fucking do it. I’ll change the war before it starts. He’s gonna love this.”

  When Amayas and Shin returned to The Hold at the end of their long day, the warships Hermes and Charybdis now settled next to the small but growing fleet, Royal greeted them.

  “You’ll be proud of me, Inventor. I found it. The model we’ve been searching for.”

  ‘The model’ referred to the scenario that they might learn of the enemy’s invasion plans long before they occurred.

  “There are seven million probabilities for this one scenario,” Amayas said. “Are you certain you discovered it so soon?”

  “It’s like you told me from the first. Only a broken mind makes sense of the chaos. They don’t come more broken than mine.”

  “Hmm. You’d be surprised, Royal.”

  “Give me permission, and I’ll go tonight.”

  “Always eager.” He waved off Royal. “Please. We’re tired. Let’s head down and talk more.”

  “It’s the break we’ve been looking for. We’ll have the fleet and the army soon enough. But none of that shit matters a wit if we don’t know where and when to meet him.”

  “How quickly will you reach the target, Royal?”

  “Seven minutes.”

  “How many will you have to kill?”

  “Two hundred and fifteen. The after-reports are consistent. There’s one gunman. It’s me. The mirror hums my name. It’s never wrong when it hums my name.”

  “Swarm headquarters will change their timetable if they believe they’ve been compromised. This will adjust the model.”

  Royal shrugged.

  “That’s perfect for us. The headwinds will do the rest. So? Do I have permission?”

  “I’ll review the mirrors myself. If I’m satisfied, yes. But please, Royal, if I give permission, you must not forget the central rule.”