Evan processed the information, his fingers tight around the phone. They'd been watching him for sixteen hours. Protecting him, they claimed. But the distinction between protection and surveillance felt dangerously thin when you were the one being followed.

  Still, they'd had every opportunity to move against him. To take him by force, to eliminate him and claim the effigy for themselves. Instead, they'd kept their distance and waited for him to make contact. That had to count for something.

  "I have a few more requests before we finalize any agreement," Evan said.

  "Of course," Brennik replied. "Go on."

  "Protection for my nephew, for one," Evan said. "Jake. He's twelve years old, living with his father in Louisville. The other factions already know I have family. They might try to use him as leverage against me."

  "Of course." No hesitation. No negotiation. The response came immediately, as if Brennik had been expecting the request. "What's his name and address?"

  Evan hesitated. The information sat heavy on his tongue, weighted with risk. Giving up Jake's location meant trusting the Null Guard completely, but leaving him exposed wasn't an option. The Umbrals knew about him. Skytrace probably did too, given how thoroughly they'd compiled intelligence on Evan's movements and relationships. If any of them decided that threatening a twelve-year-old boy was an acceptable way to gain leverage...

  "Jake Pultz," Evan said finally. "His father's name is Brett. They live at 1847 Willow Creek Drive, Louisville."

  "I'll have a team in place within the hour. Discreet protection. They won't even know they're being watched unless something happens that requires intervention. Your nephew will be safe. You have my word."

  "What about Harris?" Evan glanced back toward the motel room door. "My friend. He's injured. Shattered ankle, fractured arm, dislocated shoulder. He nearly died helping me escape from a Skytrace ambush a few days ago."

  "Bring him along if he wants. We have doctors. Proper medical facilities. He'll receive excellent care."

  "And you won't have a problem with that? Adding another person to whatever this arrangement is?"

  "Anyone who's shed blood fighting the factions is welcome among us, Mr. Marshall. Your friend has already proven his loyalty in the most meaningful way possible."

  Evan took a breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle around him. This was it. The point of no return.

  "I need to be on the Ascendant in five hours," he said. "Before the ship reaches its destination."

  "We'll have you all settled by then." Brennik's tone carried certainty. The voice of someone accustomed to making promises and keeping them. "Go collect your people, Mr. Marshall. The truck will lead you to us."

  The line went dead.

  Evan stared at the phone for a long moment, watching the screen fade to black. Across the street, the red truck's engine rumbled to life, a low sound that carried clearly in the morning air. Simply waiting, the two men inside making no move to approach. He pocketed the phone and pushed back through the motel room door.

  Harris and Sadie both looked up as he entered, their expressions expectant. Harris had shifted position on the bed, sitting up on the side as if he had already guessed they were leaving. "Well?" he asked.

  "I signed up with the Null Guard." Evan moved to collect his backpack, making sure the effigy was secure in the main compartment before zipping it closed. "They've been following me since Texas. Had cars trading off the whole way, keeping me in sight without me ever noticing."

  Harris's eyebrows climbed toward his hairline. "Following you for sixteen hours? And you didn't spot them once?"

  "Not once." The admission still stung. "They've got people across the street right now. Red pickup truck with two guys in work vests. Ready to escort us to one of their facilities."

  "Us?"

  Evan met his friend's eyes. "They've got doctors. Real medical facilities. You're welcome to come along if you want."

  Harris was quiet for a moment, his gaze moving from Evan to the window where a sliver of the parking lot was visible through the gap in the curtains. His eyes tracked back to Evan. "You trust them?"

  "I don't know for sure yet, but I'm leaning that way." Evan slung the backpack over his shoulder. "You were right earlier. I need backup. Real backup. And right now, the Null Guard is the only option that hasn't tried to kill me."

  "Yet."

  "Yet." Evan allowed himself a small smile. "So are you coming or not?"

  Harris let out a long breath, then reached for the crutch leaning against the nightstand. "What the hell. Not like I've got anything better to do than sit in this room and watch daytime television." He levered himself upright with a grimace, his injured leg swinging free of the mattress. Sadie was up from her chair by the window, handing him the other one from where it leaned up against the wall in the corner by the dresser. "Besides, if they do turn out to be hostile, at least I'll have a front-row seat to watch you deal with it."

  "Your faith in me is touching."

  "Someone's got to keep you humble."

  "I should get back to the clinic," Sadie said. "My shift starts in a couple hours, and I've already missed enough work this week."

  "Thank you," Evan said. "For everything. The medical care. Watching over Harris. Being willing to believe something that sounded completely insane."

  "It does sound insane." Sadie's mouth curved in a small smile. "Aliens living on Earth for two hundred years. Spaceships in other galaxies. Ancient weapons that could destroy civilizations." She shook her head slowly, the smile fading into something more serious. "But I saw what happened when you activated that toy that isn't a toy. Saw you sitting there frozen while green light poured out of it. Whatever's going on, it's real. I can't pretend otherwise."

  "Most people would try."

  "Most people didn't watch a man almost die from injuries he got fighting extraterrestrial secret agents." She glanced at Harris, then back to Evan. "Keep me posted, okay? I know I'm not part of this whole galactic war thing. I'm just a veterinarian who got pulled in by accident, but I'd like to know you're both still alive."

  "I'll reach out when I can," Evan promised.

  "You'd better." She grabbed her bag from the floor and headed for the door, pausing at the threshold to look back one more time. "This whole thing...aliens, spaceships, other galaxies. Secret organizations fighting over ancient technology." She let out a short laugh that carried more wonder than humor. "I'm still amazed any of it is real."

  "That makes two of us," Harris muttered from his position near the bed.

  "Three," Evan said.

  Sadie's smile returned briefly. "Take care of yourselves. Both of you. And Harris, follow the recovery protocols. That ankle won't heal right if you keep putting weight on it too soon."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  She held Evan's gaze for a moment longer, something unspoken passing between them. Then she was gone, her footsteps fading down the exterior walkway.

  "Ready?" Evan asked, collecting the Glock from the dresser.

  "Give me a minute." Harris took a tentative step, testing his balance. The movement was awkward, his body still learning to compensate for the injuries that had nearly killed him. "Okay. Let's do this."

  Getting Harris down the stairs was a process that couldn't be rushed. The exterior staircase was narrow, the metal steps slick with morning dew, the handrail wobbly in a way that inspired little confidence. Evan positioned himself on Harris's injured side. He guided his friend down each step with the patience that the situation demanded, one hand ready to catch him if his balance failed.

  Harris's jaw was tight with concentration, every movement requiring careful planning. The crutches found purchase on each step before he committed his weight, his good leg doing most of the work while the shattered ankle hung useless in its cast.

  "This is humiliating," Harris muttered as they navigated the turn at the landing.

  "It's temporary."

  "That's what I keep telling myself." He paused to catch his breath, his grip white-knuckled on the railing. "Remind me again why I decided to help you with this alien nonsense?"

  "Because you were bored with retirement and looking for an excuse to feel useful again."

  Harris grunted. "Right. That."

  They reached the parking lot without incident, though it took nearly five minutes to cover a distance that should have taken thirty seconds.

  Evan helped Harris into the passenger seat of the Range Rover, adjusting the position to accommodate his injured leg, making sure the cast wasn't pressing against anything that might cause additional pain during the drive. Harris settled back against the leather with a sigh of relief, the tension bleeding out of his shoulders now that the ordeal of the stairs was behind him.

  "Nice car," Harris said, taking in the interior for the first time. "Skytrace had good taste."

  "I almost don't miss my Ranger anymore," Evan replied, circling around to the driver's side and climbing in.

  The engine turned over with a quiet rumble. Across the street, the red truck was already moving, pulling away from the curb and making a U-turn that brought it toward the motel's parking lot entrance. It rolled past the Range Rover at a crawl, and through the open window, Evan could see the driver clearly now—a man in his thirties with close-cropped hair and alert eyes. He gave Evan a brief nod.

  Putting the SUV in gear, Evan pulled out of the parking space, falling into position behind the red truck as it headed for the street.

  As they approached the lot's exit, movement in the rear view mirror caught his attention.

  Another truck. This one blue, with the same kind of work equipment loaded in its bed. It emerged from a side street maybe a hundred yards back and fell into position behind the Range Rover, matching their speed exactly.

  An escort. Front and rear.

  Harris had noticed too. His eyes were fixed on the side mirror, tracking the second vehicle. "They're not taking any chances with you."

  "No." Evan's hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel. "They're not."

  The red truck turned onto the main road, and Evan followed. The blue truck maintained its distance behind them, three vehicles moving in formation through the Nashville morning traffic. To anyone watching, it would look like nothing more than a coincidence.

  The convoy merged onto the highway, the red truck setting a steady pace that kept them flowing with traffic rather than standing out. Evan matched the speed, keeping two car lengths of distance between them. His eyes moved constantly between the road ahead and the mirrors that showed the blue truck maintaining its position.

  Nervousness churned in his gut. He'd made a choice based on promises from people he'd just met. Many of the same promises the other Oridian factions had quickly taught him weren't likely to be kept, but nothing about the way the Null Guard had handled the situation so far suggested deception. They hadn't even asked him to join them in a different car, allowing him full control to escape if he fully lost his nerve.

  Beneath the fear of the unknown, something else stirred.

  Potential.

  For the first time since this nightmare began, he had allies. People who wanted to help him rather than capture or kill him. People who could teach him what he needed to know. The languages. The history. The thousand details about Oridian and the Makers that he was still piecing together from fragments and guesswork. These people could protect him while he learned what to do with a ship that so many others wanted to control. And they'd watch his back on Earth while his consciousness traveled between galaxies.

  The convoy continued north, leaving Nashville's sprawl behind as the landscape shifted to rolling Tennessee countryside.

  Much, much farther away, the Ascendant continued its silent journey toward an unknown world. Safe for now.

  He hoped.

  23

  The Möbius glided through empty space, her twisted hull gracefully slicing into the void.

  Sarxon stood in front of the command station, her eyes fixed on the tactical display dominating the empty space before her. The projection showed the sensor sphere, extending outward in layered rings that could identify vessels from millions of kilometers away. At the center, a small marker indicated the position and heading of the Möbius. It was the same heading the Ascendant should have been traveling, the same direction their informant on Deep Reach Station had confirmed.

  They were moving at eighty percent of the target's projected velocity. Waiting for the ship to approach from behind and overtake them. Once it did, they would slot in behind it, accelerate smoothly to match and then surpass its speed and open the hangar bay doors to swallow the smaller ship whole. No chase. No combat. Just a smooth capture.

  If Marshall happened to be on the ship and tried to evade them again, all ninety of the starfighters on the Möbius were ready to launch at her command.

  She was as prepared as she could ever hope to be.

  Only the Ascendant wasn't there.

  "Time since arrival?" Sarxon asked, her voice carefully controlled.

  "Two hours and fourteen minutes, High Commander." Lieutenant Torek's response from the navigation station carried a neutral tone despite the tension that permeated the bridge. "Based on the projected trajectory and velocity from the Deep Reach intercept, the target should have overtaken our position approximately ten minutes ago."

  Ten minutes late. An object traveling on a constant vector at constant velocity didn't arrive late. It arrived exactly when physics dictated it would arrive, down to the second.

  Unless it wasn't traveling on that vector anymore.

  Sarxon's jaw tightened. They'd done everything correctly. A perfect trap.

  Damn it.

  "Expand the sensor sweep," she ordered. "Maximum range. Check our wake—maybe it's further behind than we calculated."

  "Already running, High Commander." Ensign Thrace looked up from her station. "No contacts detected in any direction. If the target was anywhere within sensor range, we'd have found it by now."

  Sarxon turned away from the tactical display, her hands clasping behind her back as she stared through the main viewport at the star field. The distant points of light drifted slowly across her field of vision, evidence of their continued motion along the empty trajectory.

  The Ascendant had been on that trajectory for days. Days of constant velocity, constant heading, burning through space on autopilot while Marshall dealt with whatever business occupied him on Earth. The sensor contact at Deep Reach had confirmed it. The gravitic distortion trail they'd followed had confirmed it.

  How had they missed it?

  The question burned in Sarxon's chest, and the answer that followed burned hotter. She wouldn't have missed it. If she'd been able to pursue immediately after Marshall had escaped capture the first time, if she hadn't been summoned back to Delvran to receive a lecture from her father and the Emperor about diplomatic consequences and political positioning, she would have intercepted the Ascendant already.

  But she had been summoned. Called away from the hunt to answer for actions that weren't easily avoidable. Forced to grovel before His Excellency while the window of opportunity slowly closed.

  And now it had closed completely.

  "High Commander." Commander Ashe spoke up from his secondary station, his gaunt features arranged in an expression of careful neutrality. "If the target has altered course, we may be able to backtrack along the original trajectory. Pick up any gravitic distortions that indicate where and when the change occurred. From there, we could extrapolate possible new headings."

  Sarxon turned to face him, considering the suggestion. It was sound tactical thinking. Finding the point where Marshall had changed course would considerably narrow the search.

  She opened her mouth to agree⁠—

  "High Commander!" Ensign Kessian's voice cut through her thoughts from the tactical station, sharp with sudden urgency. "Multiple contacts emerging from jump space. Bearing two-seven-three mark fifteen, range forty thousand kilometers."

  Sarxon spun toward the tactical display. New markers—bright points of light resolving into ship silhouettes as the Möbius's systems analyzed their configurations—had appeared at the edge of the sensor sphere. Five vessels. No, six. Emerging from the characteristic distortion of faster-than-light travel as they returned to normal space.

  "Configuration?" Sarxon demanded.

  "Running identification now." Kessian's fingers moved across his console. "Hull profiles match Solmarch military design. Two light cruisers, four escort-class vessels. Standard patrol formation."

  Solmarch. Of course.

  Sarxon had known they were operating near Solmarch territory. The Deep Reach Station that had detected the Ascendant's passage was a Solmarch facility, after all. She'd hoped to complete her business here before anyone noticed the presence of Möbius.

  That hope evaporated as a new alert chimed from the communications station.

  "Incoming transmission, High Commander. The lead vessel is hailing us."

  "Put it through."

  The main viewscreen flickered, replacing the star field with the image of a Solmarch bridge. The officer at its center wore the blue and white uniform of their naval forces, his features arranged in an expression that mixed surprise with carefully controlled suspicion. His eyes widened slightly as he took in the view from his end of the connection, the distinctive geometry of the Möbius's bridge clearly visible behind Sarxon.

  "I..." The captain recovered quickly, straightening in his command chair. "I am Captain Veris of the Solmarch Navy. You are currently operating within Solmarch territorial space." He paused, his composure slipping just slightly. "What is a relic ship doing in our sector without having requested permission to cross it?"

  Sarxon tensed. Another confrontation. Her father's warning echoed in her mind, the careful admonition about diplomatic ramifications and the consequences of impulsive action.