“I can’t give you more. One of us has to trust, and this time it isn’t going to be me. You want to help? Find an excuse to get me patched up and out of here, instead of dangling me as bait.”

  Colonel Gray sat back, her eyebrows raised in surprise. “Bait?”

  “Do you think I’m stupid?” Hayden asked. “There was zero reason in the universe for the Judici to bring me here for questioning, or for them to give you a crack at me regardless of what they think your motives are. Vyte wants me to suffer, and then he wants me dead. He has to know he’s better off if I’m gone. So why stall? Why all the bullshit? I’m bait, Colonel.”

  “For who?”

  “Haeri,” Hayden said. “I heard the MPs saying he’s on the run. If he knows I’m here, he’ll come for me for the same reason you did. Except I trust him a hell of a lot more than I trust you.”

  “Haeri won’t get to you,” Gray said. “He’s compromised.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “No bullshit, Sheriff. If you want someone to talk to, if you need someone to help you, it has to be me.”

  “Then help me. Help all of us.”

  Gray stared at him in silence. She looked nervous, and Hayden was glad. She was a woman deciding between her life and what she knew was right. Which would she choose?

  She didn’t have a lot of time to decide. Their conversation had already dragged on for a few minutes, and diversion or not, the enemy was going to wonder what was happening.

  “Okay,” she said at last, finishing her drink and getting to her feet. She walked back over to the mini-bar, dropping the empty glass on the counter and crouching in front of it. She opened the cabinet, revealing more bottles of alcohol.

  “That wasn’t what I meant by help,” Hayden said.

  She glanced back at him, a surprisingly amused look on her face. Then she removed the bottles and a black velvet lining behind them, uncovering a hidden compartment. She reached in and removed a pistol, holding it up. “Better?” she asked.

  Hayden nodded. “You’ve been considering this for a while.”

  “Always be ready,” she replied.

  23

  Hayden

  Colonel Gray reached into the hidden compartment a few more times, each return producing either a gun or a magazine until she had enough firepower visible in the room for an entire squad of Centurions. The guns were all pistols, mostly standard-issue Centurion sidearms—semi-automatics with twenty-round magazines. A couple of the weapons were special. One plasma blaster—powered by a rectangular fuel cell that offered nearly one hundred bolts—and one handheld railgun—a small but serious handgun with a three hundred round magazine of quarter-inch high-density flechettes.

  “Which one of these do you want?” Gray asked, motioning to the two weapons.

  Hayden was about to choose when the door opened without warning. He lunged for the HRG, spinning and aiming, reacting by pure instinct. The Stacker clone stood in the doorway, Hayden’s sunglasses in one hand and his revolver in the other. “I think these belong to you,” Stacker said, the door closing behind him.

  Hayden lowered the weapon, eyeing the glasses,relieved to see them again.

  “Nobody saw you?” Gray asked.

  “Negative,” Stacker replied with a smile. “It’s not my first time raiding the Judicus lockup.” He pulled back his coat and lifted the twin bandoliers of .50 caliber rounds over his head, dropping them on the sofa. “I can’t imagine why you’d prefer these to an HRG, but to each their own.”

  Hayden scooped up the rounds, putting them back over his chest. He tucked the revolver in its holster and accepted the glasses. “Thank you,” he said, sliding them over his face. He picked up the HRG again. “I’ll keep this one too.”

  “Stacker, you have the plasma,” Gray said.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, picking up the other gun.

  Gray took two for herself, shoving replacement magazines in the pockets of her dress uniform. For as prepared as she was with firearms, she was poorly dressed for the occasion.

  “Here’s the play,” Gray said, keeping her voice at a whisper. “The Judici are using a Fox clone to stay in the loop on Haeri’s whereabouts. Haeri probably doesn’t know the Trust helped the Relyeh modify a cloning replicator to spit out dupes with some unfriendly modifications.”

  “I ran into one of those clones,” Hayden said. “A Bennett. The bastard killed Rico.”

  “Rico Rodriguez?” Gray asked.

  “That’s right.”

  Shock and grief warred on Gray’s face as she looked down . “Damn it.” She looked up again. “I’m sorry, Sheriff. I’m at least partially to blame for that.”

  “And I’m partially pissed at you for it,” Hayden replied. “But you can still make it up to me.”

  Hayden liked that she didn’t ask how. She already knew how. “Roger, Sheriff. We run under the assumption that Haeri is on his way here, but we have to be mindful that the Judici might decide to snatch him if the situation presents itself. They’ll want to catch him by surprise, and they’ll be as cautious as they need to be to try to make that happen. If we hit their CIC, we can cut off the snake’s head, gouge out their eyes and get our own bead on Haeri. If he can’t make it to us, we can go to him.”

  “That’s going to be tough, Colonel,” Stacker said.

  “It might be, but the Judici don’t know we’re about to go rogue. Sheriff, you should know. Once word gets out about this, it won’t only be the Hunger we have to worry about. The Trust is going to want retribution, and they’ll go to great lengths to get it.”

  “Fine by me,” Hayden said. “They use Earth and then sell out humanity when it’s their asses on the line? They deserve a few traitors in their midst.”

  “Which is why Stacker and I are standing with you.” She looked at the big clone. “We need to do the right thing before it’s too late.”

  “That’s right,” Stacker agreed. “Screw them. You can’t trust the Trust, man.”

  “How do we hit their CIC without them seeing us coming?” Hayden asked.

  “I’m supposed to bring you there for safekeeping while we wait on our visitor. Put your specs back in your pocket and keep the guns hidden, and we’ll have no problem taking them by surprise. If we’re quick, we can cut down the entire entourage before they know what hit them.” She paused, gathering her courage again. “Every traitor gets one free move. Let’s make it count.”

  Hayden nodded, removing the glasses and putting them back in his pocket. It was harder to cover up the revolver and the HRG, but he managed to get them tucked away so they didn’t show past his coat. It was the enemy’s fault anyway. They should have let him shower and change his clothes, instead of leaving him wounded and bloody.

  But then, Vyte didn’t care about his life. He had come through the portal, and the Axon knew he was going to make use of that fact.

  “Are you ready, Sheriff?” Gray asked.

  What about Caleb? Card was still out there somewhere. Did Vyte know it? Was the Axon hoping to catch two targets with one Sheriff?

  “Pozz,” he replied. “You?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “Just don’t change your mind.”

  She offered a nervous smile. “I won’t.”

  “And try not to look so uncomfortable.”

  She took a deep breath, trying to relax her expression. “Good?”

  “Good enough.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  24

  Hayden

  The Judicus Department’s CIC was quieter than Hayden expected. He figured when the doors opened and Colonel Gray herded him through, he would be greeted with stares from dozens of black-suited Judici and maybe a squad or two of Centurions.

  Instead, the command center had only eight people inside. Two guards who looked like Centurion clones but were dressed in black body armor with no hardware or insignia affixed, and six Judici. Five of them had the air and posture Hayden was beginning to recognize as khoron-infected—their heads a little too high, their faces a little too straight. They looked away from their stations when Hayden, Gray and Stacker entered, sparing him a disinterested glance before turning their attention back to their work. From Hayden’s vantage point, it looked as if they were slightly confused and frustrated. Their terminal displays were either dark or filled with static, and they were hitting keys in rapid succession as if trying to overcome some unexpected limitation.

  Haeri. It had to be.

  The sixth Judicus was a tall, thin man—almost the same height as Stacker. He whirled on his heel to face them, his mouth splitting into a wide grin when he saw Hayden.

  “Sheriff Duke. Welcome to Proxima.”

  “Thank you,” Hayden replied. “Looks like you’re having some technical difficulties.”

  The grin vanished as quickly as it appeared. “A minor glitch. Nothing to concern yourself over. Are you enjoying your stay on the planet?”

  “So far, so good. I sure would like to get cleaned up though.”.”

  “You look good to me, Sheriff.” The Judicus’ eyes shifted to Colonel Gray. “Did you get what you needed from him?”

  “I did, Judicus Carn.”

  “Without having to resort to torture?” Carn’s expression was dubious.

  “I don’t respond well to torture,” Hayden said. “What I do respond to is honesty.”

  “An interesting concept.”

  “Sir, we have the stream back,” one of the Judici at a workstation said.

  Carn turned around. Hayden looked at the terminal, and then past it to a curved display on the wall at the front of the room. He hadn’t noticed it while it was offline, but now it showed an image of a quiet street. A pair of APCs rested in random positions, singed and smoking, and bodies were sprawled on the ground nearby. The entire camera view was hazy with smoke, but it didn’t seem as if anyone was coming to check on the damage.

  “Unfortunate,” Carn said flatly.

  Hayden glanced at the Judicus again. It was too neutral a reaction to be normal. He flicked his eyes back to Gray. Did she know what Carn was?

  All of a sudden, the success of their ambush didn’t seem so assured.

  “Find him,” Carn hissed. “Now.”

  The other Judici began tapping on their control pads again, maps appearing on their terminals as they sought their missing target. Hayden noticed Stacker moving to draw his pistol, and he quickly shook his head. Not yet.

  Not with an Intellect calling the shots. If they didn’t take it out with the first shot it would activate its neural disruptors and cancel out any hope they had of completing the attack.

  Stacker shifted his hand again, waiting on Hayden’s signal. Gray noticed his expression and did the same.

  “Where are you, General?” Carn said. He leaned past one of the others, resting his hand on the control surface. Hayden watched him closely. Waiting. He knew from Max what an Intellect looked like when it was interfacing with another machine.

  He also knew how vulnerable it left them.

  He turned his head slowly, making eye contact with Gray at the same time he reached for the HRG. All three of them would need to hit Carn almost at once, damaging the Intellect quickly enough that it had no time to make them hallucinate or activate its shields. Fortunately it couldn’t do both at the same time.

  Gray and Stacker followed his lead, slowly drawing their weapons. Carn remained fixed, eyes forward, body motionless. They had to time it right. Wait too long, and they would lose the chance. Attack too early, and it wouldn’t be as defenseless.

  It was a good sign that the Intellect didn’t notice the weapons being pulled. None of the other Judici did either. They were frantic in their search.

  Hayden raised the HRG, pointing it at Carn’s head and moving his finger to the trigger. Behind him, Gray and Stacker also took aim.

  He was about to shoot when something caused the building to shake slightly, and an echoing crack sounded from somewhere outside. An instant later, a warning klaxon began to flash from the corner of the room.

  The Judici at the terminals started to rise in response to the alarm, though they looked unsure about the nature of it. A second loud crack echoed from outside, the building shaking slightly again.

  Carn’s hand twitched.

  Hayden squeezed the trigger and held it.

  Fifty flechettes launched from the HRG, zipping across the short distance and punching clear through the Intellect’s Skin from one side of its head to the other. The rounds ended up embedded in the display at the front of the room. Carn shuddered at the assault, joined a split-second later by plasma and traditional projectile fire from Gray and Stacker, the dozens of shots pulverizing its head.

  Carn tumbled sideways as the khoron-infected Judici began reaching for their guns.

  Hayden dropped the HRG to the floor and quickly reached into his pocket, grabbing the microspear. He lunged at the nearest Judicus, getting it into her abdomen before she knew it was coming. Her eyes widened, her mouth open in a silent scream as the weapon killed the khoron inside her...and then killed her.

  Stacker and Gray redirected their attack, using the surprise to take out three more of the enemy in rapid succession. The last two Judici finally got their guns around and fired at Gray, putting rounds into her chest.

  Hayden thought the Colonel was a goner, but the dress uniform seemed to halt the bullets, preventing them from breaking through her skin. She spun and covered her head with her arm, accepting the attack and keeping the enemy distracted.

  The Stacker clone fired plasma into one of the remaining Judici. Hayden threw the microspear into the last, the needle piercing his neck and bringing him down.

  It was over in seconds.

  “We need to get out of here,” Gray said as Hayden grabbed the HRG.

  “Stacker, get the microspear,” Hayden said.

  “Roger that, Sheriff,” Stacker replied, recovering the weapon.

  “What the hell is going on out there?” Hayden asked.

  “That’s an emergency alert klaxon,” Gray replied. “The base is under attack from outside the dome.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe Vyte decided not to wait on the planetary assault after all.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. Vyte wants Proxima’s resources. It won’t help to destroy them all.”

  “Whatever it is, we can’t stay here. At least we have a diversion.”

  “Pozz,” Hayden agreed. “Lead the way, Colonel.”

  25

  Caleb

  This is crazy.

  For once, Caleb agreed with Ishek. But then, there was nothing sane or reasonable about any of this.

  “I repeat, this is Judicus Crux requesting permission to land,” Caleb said again through the Stiletto’s comm.

  “Permission denied,” the controller replied. “I’m sorry, Judicus, but you’ll need to redirect to another base. Centurion Prime is on lockdown. Colonel Gray’s orders.”

  “I don’t answer to Colonel Gray.”

  “When you want to get through the seal and into the dome, you do. Unless you can get a note from General Haeri.” The controller paused, muting the comm to chuckle at his joke. “Redirect immediately.”

  The flight from Ziyou Base to Praeton had been surprisingly easy. As Caleb had suspected, the Stiletto starfighter used a similar brain interface to the Dagger’s CUTS, allowing someone with little flight control experience—like him—the ability to manage the craft with ease. It hadn’t taken much more than a thought to plot a course to the planet’s capital and let the computer take over, flying him in a high sub-orbital arc that carried him halfway around the planet in less than half an hour. The trouble hadn’t started until he reached Praeton airspace and Ground Control had asked him for his credentials. It took a moment for him to figure out how to confirm his identity using the chip he had taken off the dead Judicus and pass it through the craft’s systems. Then he had been kindly told to screw off and go elsewhere.

  “Control, how can I convince you to let me in? I’m on urgent, official business.”

  “How many times do I have to repeat myself? Colonel’s orders, Judicus. My hands are tied.”

  Caleb clenched his teeth, looking at the estimates of his position through the overlay on the helmet he was wearing. He could see Praeton approaching ahead of him as numerous large domes scattered across the nearly barren landscape. A wide river seemed to cut through the center of the settlement offering a vein of life to the people who lived inside, while three nearly identical large starships acted as guardians at the edges of the colony.

  More like gargoyles.

  Seeing them reminded Caleb of the Deliverance. They were all roughly the same size and shape, and all built for a similar purpose. But these ships showed signs of their decommissioning. Their large thrusters were covered over, the long sensor spires that jutted out from their tops removed. They were shells of what they once were, but that wasn’t a bad thing. Judging by the number of domes and the density of the construction inside them, the planet was thriving. There had to be at least a million people in Praeton. Probably more.

  Centurion Prime sat in the center of it all, easily the largest of the domes, though also the least dense. Even from his current distance, Caleb could see into the transparent hemisphere to the gray area of tarmac. Dozens of transports and fighters rested ahead of numerous buildings of different functions. The structures were broken up by open fields and other training areas—all of it quiet this early in the morning.

  He had less than a minute to figure out what he was going to do about the apparent lockout of air traffic from the base, and every instinct was telling him to do something drastic and rash.

  That’s not a good idea. Ishek warned him against the next thought before he finished having it. And the Advocate wasn’t wrong. The idea wasn’t a good one. He hadn’t expected to need force to get onto the base, and the idea of launching the Stiletto’s missiles against friendlies didn’t sit well at all.