“I’m doing my best,” Hayden said. “I don’t even know where to find this partition of his. I’ll go after it as soon as I do.”

  Shub’Nigu laughed, the Construct rattling around Hayden.

  It may already be too late. You do not know Iagorth, Devourer of the Relyeh. But Iagorth knows you, Sheriff Duke. He knows you are a threat. He will come for you, even before you can go for him.

  “How does he know who I am?”

  Your mind has been wandering in ways you aren’t aware. He has seen you, Sheriff Duke. He knows that no others can stop him.

  “Then let him come for me. And I’ll stop him.”

  You may stop one part of him. You may stop one thousand. If you delay too long, you will not stop them all.

  “Then why don’t you give me a hand, if you’re so concerned?”

  It was you who destroyed all of the Relyeh on your planet, Hayyyydeennnnn. It was you who thought to destroy me the same way.

  “Not all of the Relyeh. Iagorth was unaffected.”

  He has his own Collective, separate from mine.

  “Because he’s from another universe.”

  Yyyyeesssss.

  “But you told me once that you’re not in this universe either.”

  Shub’Nigu’s laughter shook the Construct again.

  Yyyyyeessss. Watch your back, Hayden Duuuukkkeeee.

  The pressure vanished from Hayden’s mind. His eyes snapped open, greeted by the less than pitch darkness of the light filtering beneath the hat over his face. He put a hand to his chest, his rapidly beating heart thumping against it. His other hand had gripped his revolver, pulling it from its holster.

  “Sheriff?” Thomas said. “Are you awake?”

  Hayden used the gun to nudge his hat back to the top of his head. He looked out at Thomas and Paul, who were eyeing him cautiously.

  “Pozz,” he said, swallowing the lump in his throat. He was a hard man to frighten, but the interaction with Shub’Nigu had managed to throw him. A new Relyeh was in play on Earth, gathering power and preparing to pick up where the trife had left off.

  Somehow, it knew him, and it wanted him dead.

  At least he was already accustomed to that.

  “Is it nightfall yet?” he asked.

  “I was just coming over to wake you when you went for your piece,” Thomas said. “I thought for a second you might shoot me in your sleep. Nightmare?”

  “Not exactly,” Hayden replied. He returned the revolver to its holster before picking up his saddlebags. He took the Custodian uniform he had requested from Brink out of the bag, stood up and quickly changed his clothes. The revolvers and duster would look out of place with the utilities, so he left them behind, tucking the Axon gun beneath the waistband at the back of his pants, hidden beneath his shirt. He took off his hat as well before heading for the door.

  “What should we do while you’re gone?” Paul asked.

  “Hold tight, stay out of trouble,” Hayden replied. “I don’t think I’ll be gone long.” He opened the door to the room. Fairy and Vazquez were already in the hallway, about to knock.

  “Dad,” Fairy said, smiling. “Perfect timing.”

  Hayden felt the same twinge of sadness as before, but he held it in check, turning his attention to Vazquez. She had showered and removed the flight suit, revealing the clean uniform beneath. “Are you ready?”

  She nodded. “For this scenario, you’re Specialist Thomas, my company for the evening. You defer to me. You let me do most of the talking. You stay out of trouble. Do you pozz?”

  Hayden smiled. “Pozz.”

  “Because some of the Spacers in there will sniff you out as a natural right away, and they’ll give me shit for bringing you along. I know you can handle yourself. So can I.”

  “Just help me get the intel,” Hayden said. “Time isn’t on our side.”

  Vazquez stared into his eyes. “You know something,” she deduced. “What is it?”

  “Come inside,” Hayden said, backing up.

  Fairy and Vazquez moved into the room, closing the door behind them. Hayden motioned to Thomas and Paul to join them.

  “Truth is, the reason I’m still alive is because I was put into an alien medi-bot. It changed my DNA, allows me to heal faster, makes me a little stronger and quicker. Not superhuman, but a little above average. It also gave the alien leader a backdoor to my consciousness.”

  “You mean you’re compromised?” Thomas asked.

  “Neg. Nothing like that. But he can pull me into his universe and communicate with me there while I sleep. Before, it was always to torture me. To make me suffer in retribution for my part in destroying the trife. A few weeks ago, about the time you Custodians pulled the rock out of the ocean, that changed. He warned me about what you’d dug up. He just warned me again now. He’s scared of what the Grand Custodian is doing. Of what he woke up. Says it’ll take over everything if I don’t stop it. Earth. Proxima. All of it. We have to find out where the rock is, and we need to get rid of it as soon as possible.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Thomas said. “What the hell is the Grand Custodian thinking? That he can control it? Convince it to spare most of humankind in exchange for the rest of our lives? It doesn’t sound like it would agree to that.”

  “Nope, it doesn’t. I knew a man who had a similar idea to trade some for the rest. He thought it was the only way to survive. First, I killed him. Then I proved him wrong.”

  “We have to stop this, Sheriff,” Vazquez said. “We’re wasting time standing here talking about it.”

  “You three wait here,” Hayden said. “Be ready to go as soon as we get back.”

  “Copy that,” Thomas said.

  “Maya, let’s go.”

  34

  Hayden

  Hayden and Vazquez left the Hat a few minutes later, making sure to be seen together, Vazquez’s arm looped around his. They laughed together as they made their way through the lobby and out the swinging door until they were in the street.

  Nightfall created a shift in the activity along the main stretch. The market was mostly closed, with only a few of the most industrious stalls still open for business, most of those vending food. Instead, the action was in their segment of the settlement and further north and west, the streets lit by strings of lights hanging from old poles. Dozens of residents and militia members moved together along the avenues, a lot of them already familiar with one another and socializing as they crossed paths. Hayden noticed a few prostitutes on the corner where he had spotted the APC earlier, one of them in the midst of picking up some work from a militant. She took his hand and led him to a corner doorway into an old apartment building.

  At least Vazquez hadn’t suggested they canvass the Custodians for intel in there.

  They only had to walk a few hundred meters to reach the saloon, located around the corner from the Hat on the south side of the nearest cross street. It was easy to identify once they had line of sight because the owners had put an old mechanical bull in the street out front, stringed lights creating a rough arrow that pointed to the entrance. A militant was in the bull’s saddle, legs gripping tight as his body bucked back and forth until the mechanism jerked hard enough to throw him. He hit the pavement roughly on his back as bystanders cheered and laughed. One of his buddies put a hand out, helping him slowly get back to his feet.

  “Is that what you all do for fun?” Hayden asked.

  “We do whatever we can to unwind,” Vazquez replied. “We’re under a lot of pressure most of the time, even when we’re just moving shit from one place to another. You know, if you were dead I don’t think we’d have to hump all our relics around quite so much.”

  “You really don’t have a fixed base?”

  “If we do, nobody told me. You should try Chuck. You already know how to ride, I bet you’d be great at it.”

  “You mean the bull?”

  “Yeah, the bull. Think you’re man enough, Specialist?”

  “Maybe later. Remember what I said upstairs?”

  She smiled, clearly enjoying herself. Or at least acting it well. “Copy that.”

  A new rider hopped onto the bull as Hayden and Vazquez approached. She rode it a few seconds longer than the prior militant, thrown sideways as it shifted suddenly. Hayden reached out, catching her before she crashed to the pavement.

  She leaned her head back to see who had saved her. “Well, hello soldier boy,” she said, smiling.

  Hayden nodded back. “Ma’am.” Then he helped her to her feet. She glanced at him again, offering a confused look before rejoining her companions on the other side of the machine.

  “Ma’am?” Vazquez questioned with a grimace. “Can you at least try to fit in? We aren’t known for being polite, especially to one another.”

  Hayden shrugged. “Yeah,” he said, the word feeling awkward out of his mouth. “Got it.”

  Vazquez smacked her hand into his chest, laughing. “You’re impossible. Let’s go in.”

  She led him past the bull and into the saloon. The place was small and raucous, with nearly thirty Custodians occupying the stools at the bar and the handful of tables. More stood in boisterous groups, drinks in hand. Every last one of them was a physical specimen, fit and lean, some more muscular than others. Clones to the last, just like Vazquez had said.

  “Maya!” the bartender shouted as soon as he saw her. “Long time no see, babe!”

  “Come on,” Vazquez said. “I’ll introduce you.”

  She dragged Hayden past the clones, squeezing between two Custodians at the bar.

  “Maya,” one of them said when she noticed the pilot. “I didn’t know you were back in town.”

  “Just got here,” Vazquez replied. “I’m on leave until tomorrow.”

  “You still hauling shit east?”

  “What else would I be doing?” Vazquez turned to the bartender. “Josias, two shots of my favorite tequila. And one for my date.” She laughed.

  Hayden did his best to act comfortable, but the situation had him nervous. He was pretty confident Vazquez was on board with his plan, but just knowing one word from her would put him in a situation he couldn’t easily get out of left him uneasy.

  “Coming right up, honey,” the bartender said in an effeminate voice that belied his burly frame and bushy beard. He turned his back on them to grab a bottle and three shot glasses from the bar.

  “Who’s the stud?” the woman asked, looking back at Hayden.

  “Specialist Thomas, from the Southern Reach,” Hayden said, probably a little too stiffly.

  “Specialist, huh? What do you specialize in, Mister Southern Reach?”

  “Communications.”

  “I see. You look like the kind of man who can say a lot without saying anything at all.”

  “Could be.”

  The woman laughed. “See. There you go.” She looked at Vazquez. “Leave it to you to pick up a souvenir from the Southern Reach. And a normie to boot. You have guts bringing him in here.” She looked back at Hayden. “You must really like her.” She laughed before talking to Vazquez again, lowering her voice. “I heard there was some trouble there recently.”

  “Who told you that?” Vazquez asked.

  She shrugged. “Word gets around. They say Jade is dead. That one of her recruits killed her.”

  Hayden’s hand drifted toward his back and the Axon gun hidden there. He considered grabbing Vazquez and making an excuse for them to leave.

  “It’s true,” Vazquez said. “One of the newbies went nuts. Totally lost it and blasted her during rifle training. He didn’t last long after that. Or so I hear.”

  “Three shots of the house tequila,” the bartender announced, dropping them on the bartop.

  Vazquez grabbed one and passed it to Hayden, kept one, and motioned for the woman to take the third. “On me,” she said.

  The woman grabbed the drink and held it up. “Salute!”

  They downed the shots in unison, smacking the glasses back on the bar.

  “So,” Vazquez said. “I showed you mine, Patel. What do you have in return?”

  “Gossip? Not much. It’s been pretty quiet around here.”

  “Come on, I just bought you a drink. You can do better than that.”

  Patel shrugged. “I wish I could.” She paused, considering. “Oh, well, guess who’s back in town.”

  “Who?” Vazquez asked.

  Patel turned, pointing to the table in the corner. Vazquez and Hayden both looked to where a man sat with two women. Not Custodians. Whores. All three of them were laughing hysterically.

  “Rogers?” Vazquez said. “Where’s he been?”

  “I haven’t talked to him yet. You know how he likes to entertain his whores to puff his ego before he stops pretending the rest of us don’t exist.”

  Vazquez smirked as she glanced at Hayden, her expression suggesting Rogers was a good potential lead. “He won’t ignore me.”

  35

  Marcus

  Captain Schott brought the chopper down at the same place Marcus had transferred from helicopter-to-Osprey with Jade a few weeks earlier. The Custodian base in Haven was relatively quiet as the sun set over the nearby ocean. Only a few random techs and scheduled patrol units moved around inside the base. Smaller groups of militia members were coming and going through the gate into the settled area.

  Marcus was much more interested in the populated segment of Haven now that he was sure Sheriff Duke was somewhere in the mix. It was Schott who had spotted tracks leading away from Carcity to the nearest road—tracks made by large, heavy tires. He had noticed a vehicle inside the city walls whose tires looked like they could match the description. The modbox was lifted high off the ground, with a large plow on the front to help push debris out of its way. He had a good feeling it had been Duke’s ride.

  The remaining question then was whether or not the Sheriff had come alone. He had gone too far, too fast from Fort Hood to Lavega to be on foot or even on horseback. And the fact that he had managed to infiltrate the Fort left Marcus suspicious as to how he’d done it. Knowing there had been an Osprey in Houston, he couldn’t help but wonder if the Sheriff had experience flying an aircraft, or if he could have convinced or forced the pilot to take him where he wanted to go. Using force was something Marcus would do, but he wasn’t sure Duke had it in him.

  If the need were great enough, he would.

  “You seem certain of that,” Marcus replied. Schott had already gotten used to the way he seemed to talk to himself, and didn’t pay him any mind unless he said his name. “You still haven’t explained how you know so much about him.”

  It’s complicated and also irrelevant.

  “I’d still like to know.”

  I would need to explain the Relyeh Collective, the world-god, quantum physics, chaos theory and the structure of the multiverse to even begin to bring you to a basic level of understanding.

  “Is there a simplified version?”

  Marcus felt a level of pressure in his head, a sign he was pushing Iagorth a little too far.

  The Sheriff’s genetic changes make him susceptible to transference across the Collective. I encountered a simulacrum of him within the Construct of the second most powerful Relyeh Ancient, my sibling Shub’Nigu.

  “Simulacrum. You mean a copy?”

  In simple terms you can understand, yes.

  “Is Shub’Nigu like you? Able to communicate with pieces of himself across the entire universe?”

  We are similar, but different. His Collective connects all of the Hunger, and he can see everything. Everywhere. But he cannot control it. That isn’t a part of him.

  “I think I understand,” Marcus said.

  The helicopter finished its descent, touching down on the tarmac close to a lower-lying building with a flag flying atop it depicting an eagle gripping a star in its claws. Marcus assumed it was the primary administration building. A Custodian stood a few meters away, ready to receive him once he disembarked.

  “Thank you for the ride, Captain,” Marcus said before jumping out of the chopper’s open side. He walked over to the Custodian, who stiffened to attention at his approach.

  “Marcus, sir,” he said. “I’m Lieutenant Nix. The Colonel told me to expect your arrival.”

  “He did?” Marcus replied, surprised. How did King know he was going to wind up in Haven? Did his father know the Sheriff was here too?

  “Yes, sir. I have orders to provide you with anything you need.”

  Marcus smiled, tapping the blasters on his hips. “I have everything I need right here, but thank you, Lieutenant.”

  “Of course, sir. Is this your first time to the Western Reach? Would you like a tour of the facilities?”

  “No, thank you. I’m actually going to head into town to check out the nightlife.”

  Nix smiled. “I think you’ll find it pretty enjoyable sir.”

  “I hope so.”

  “If you decide you need anything, any of my people can help you reach me.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

  Marcus turned from the man and followed several other Custodians through the gate, heading down the street. He passed a handful of saloons, including one that had an old mechanical bull outside. The Custodians in the area didn’t pay him much attention, offering curious glances but otherwise leaving him alone. He didn’t look like one of them, and he didn’t look threatening either. But then, they weren’t examining him closely enough to notice the nature of his left hand.

  He continued through the settlement, pausing at a street corner to ask one of the prostitutes where to find the modbox parking. Once he had directions, he walked quickly to the area, through a mostly closed-down street market where a few vendors remained, selling food. One in particular caught his attention. A young girl and an older man roasting sausages on a spit. The sight of the cooking meat made his mouth water. The smell however turned his stomach. It was nothing compared to the sweet scent of fear.