“I honestly don’t know. About three weeks ago, about the time you showed up on our radar, the Colonel picked up some rock from a settlement on an old oil rig off the Pacific Coast. Place called Harvest. Seems we’ve been looking for it for years, ever since it came down from space around the time we started leaving Earth for Proxima. Ever since then, chatter about the expansion has slowed considerably. I used to direct maybe a hundred calls a day. The day Ruger and his people stormed down here, I had six.”

  “An alien rock,” Hayden said. “Trife?”

  “I truly hope not. I can’t believe the Grand Custodian would be dumb enough to try to bring them back into the equation. But it seems to me something about that rock had a ripple effect.”

  “Do you know where it is?”

  “No. Not exactly. Somewhere on the west coast, last I knew. We move things around a lot. We don’t even have a single static headquarters for obvious reasons. We mostly occupy old labs and bunkers like this one and the one in Natch City.”

  “Speaking of the bunker in Natch City, what does the name Grimmel mean to you?”

  “Never heard it before.”

  “Nobody named Grimmel ever called in here?”

  Thomas thought about it for a few seconds. “No. I can’t say they did.”

  Hayden had gotten his hopes up that Thomas might have some answers there. Brink had said Stacker pulled the computers out of the lab. If Grimmel ever had anything to do with that particular facility, the Custodians had covered his tracks well.

  Hayden remained silent for nearly half a minute, trying to think of anything else he wanted to ask the Custodian. The news about the strange rock had him concerned. Very concerned. The trife had come from microorganisms embedded in meteors which crashed on Earth. A lot of those meteors also landed in the ocean, where he always assumed the microorganisms had died. But what if they’d survived being submerged? What if bringing them ashore allowed them to come out of hibernation? The thought felt like a stretch, but what if it wasn’t?

  “Anything else, Sheriff?” Thomas asked.

  Hayden blinked, coming out of his thoughts to shake his head at the Operator. “Neg. I think we’re done here.”

  “You’re nervous about what they found. I can tell.”

  “Something tells me you are too,” Hayden replied. “At least a little.”

  “I won’t lie. I’m not all that comfortable with anything we’ve been doing here the past couple of years. But what else am I going to do? I don’t have another home outside of the Custodians.”

  “Follow through with your plan. Go become a farmer for a while. Maybe you’ll like it well enough to stay.”

  Thomas shrugged. ”Maybe I’ll check back with the Custodians. Or maybe I won’t. Who knows.”

  Hayden nodded. “Fair enough. Let’s go.”

  Thomas jumped to his feet. “I do appreciate this, Sheriff. You’re an honorable man.”

  They exited the room together. Brink and Todd waited a short distance away. She looked surprised and angry when she saw Thomas with him.

  “Sheriff, what are you doing with the prisoner?”

  “We made a deal. Freedom for information,” Hayden replied.

  “You can’t do that,” she complained. “He’s Ruger’s prisoner.”

  “I seem to recall you telling me Ruger said to give me whatever I wanted.”

  Brink’s face fell. “Well...uh...Yeah I did, but…”

  “But what? This is what I want. We had a deal. I’d also like a pair of boots that’ll fit his feet, a pistol and enough rations to last him a few days.”

  “You want me to arm him?” Brink said incredulously.

  “Pozz.”

  Brink swallowed her anger and nodded. “Todd, you heard the man. Boots, sidearm and rations for the scum. Sheriff, I’m going to tell Ruger about this.”

  “I expect you will. He’ll see things my way. I need something else from you.”

  She sighed. “What?”

  “I hear you have an aircraft and a pilot.”

  “We do, but Ruger said the Osprey stays grounded.” She paused before sighing again. “But I need to give you whatever you want.”

  “Pozz. And right now, I want a ride.”

  10

  Hayden

  There were a couple of additional items Hayden requested from Brink before they left the lab and headed back out into the field. A spidersteel bodysuit for one—the underlayment of the combat armor—its tight fit allowing him to wear it beneath his clothes. It was bulletproof against most small arms, resistant against larger ones and offered a level of protection he had lacked for some time. He also asked for a black Custodian uniform which he folded neatly and tucked into his saddlebags.

  Freshly outfitted, he waited outside the lab with Zorro until Thomas emerged from the building, clothed and equipped for the outside world. The Custodian lifted his head toward the sun, soaking up the rays before walking over to Hayden.

  “Thank you again, Sheriff,” he said. “This means a lot to me.”

  “I’m a man of my word,” Hayden replied.

  “That you are, and I appreciate it.” He turned back toward the door to the building when it opened. Brink and Corporal Todd led a second prisoner outside, a dark-haired woman in a flight suit, her hands bound in front of her. Thomas looked back at Haydon. “Are you going to let Vazquez go too, once you’re done with her?”

  Hayden stared at the woman. He hadn’t known the Osprey pilot was another Custodian. And he definitely hadn’t expected her to be a clone he would recognize. Rico had died around the same time as Natalia. It sent a chill down his spine to see her likeness again.

  “Once she gets me where I need to go,” Hayden replied. “If she’ll agree to the same deal you did.”

  “I wouldn’t count on that, Sheriff. I’m sure you know how stubborn the clones are.”

  “You’re all original then?” Hayden asked.

  “One hundred percent natural born. My parents are back on Proxima. I kind of hoped I would get to see them again one day.”

  “While you were bombarding the planet from orbit?”

  Thomas shook his head. “That wasn’t the plan. The Grand Custodian has the codes to open the airlocks into the habitats. It would have been a ground assault only, from what I hear.”

  “That’s much better,” Hayden said sarcastically.

  “I’m not saying I loved the idea,” Thomas replied. “But Proxima cut us loose. They stranded us here. You have to admit it would serve them right.”

  “On one hand, maybe. On the other, would it be worth the cost?”

  “I don’t know. I was just the Operator. I’m not part of those decisions, thankfully.”

  Brink brought Vazquez over to Hayden and Thomas. “You wanted the pilot,” she said, amused by the look on Hayden’s face. “Here she is.”

  “What’s your first name, Vazquez?” Hayden asked, eyeing the pilot. “The version of you I was friends with was called Rico.”

  “Maya,” she said defiantly. “So you’re Sheriff Duke?”

  “That’s right.”

  She spit in his face. “Go to hell. I’m not helping you do anything.”

  Brink moved to restrain her, but Hayden raised a hand, waving her back. He reached up, casually wiping the spittle off his cheek. “Have I wronged you in a specific way, Maya?”

  “You got me stuck here on this shithole. You got us all stuck here.”

  “You preferred the trife?”

  “I preferred watching you savages kill each other trying to escape from them, and being able to go back home at the end of my deployment. Now I’m stuck on this rock, and it’s your fault. I was scheduled to ship back to Proxima three days before you ruined our future.”

  “Most folks think I helped save the world. And I didn’t do it alone. You know the Hunger had their eyes on Proxima too, don’t you? Whatever you left behind when the Trust didn’t send a shuttle back for you, we helped them too.”

  “Not what,” Vazquez said. “Who. I have a wife. A child.”

  “And you want to see them again,” Hayden said. “I get that. And I’m sorry you were cut off from them. You know what your leader plans to do once he can get you back to Proxima, don’t you?”

  “Of course. But he said they would be safe.” Some of the fury had faded from her voice in response to his apology.

  “I don’t know how someone can promise something like that.”

  “I don’t give a shit what you think. This bitch brought me out of storage, so I assume you need to go somewhere too far to reach on horseback. You can find another pilot. I’m not doing it.” Her eyes burned into Thomas. “Helping him with anything is treason, Thomas. Plain and simple.”

  “Cut the bullshit, will you, Maya?” Thomas shot back. “Nothing’s been right since the Trust cut us loose. You know that’s true. There’s a good reason for us to make progress on building new ships. You can’t get back to your family otherwise, and neither can I. But it doesn’t make sense to go after Proxima like the whole planet wronged us.”

  “It doesn’t need to make sense. We’re Centurions. We go where we’re told to go and do what we’re told to do. And we don’t help the Sheriff. That should be rule number one.”

  Thomas smiled and shook his head. “Good luck with her, Sheriff.”

  “She’s not wrong,” Hayden replied. “Not completely.” His response surprised both Thomas and Vazquez. “The thing is, I don’t need you to want to help me, Maya. But you are going to help me.”

  “You can’t make me fly the Osprey.”

  “It’s not your fault that you don’t understand the full situation, so let me spell it out for you. New Eden is in direct contact with General Haeri on Proxima. One word from me back to him, and I can make sure your wife and child have a pretty rough go of things for the next few years.” He shrugged. “Or the rest of their lives.”

  “You wouldn’t,” Vazquez said, shocked by his statement, which was only partially true.

  Hayden doubted Haeri would follow through with something like that, and he was equally sure he would never ask the General for such a thing. But it was an effective threat, whether it had real teeth or not. “Considering it could be both Earth and Proxima at stake, I sure would.”

  Vazquez stared at him, a pained look in her eyes. He had gambled on her loyalty to her family, and it seemed he had won. “Fine,” she spat. “I’ll fly you around the planet. What else do I have to do with my time?” She smirked. “Besides, the faster you catch up to the Colonel, the faster you’re going to die.”

  “Is that so?”

  “I’d be willing to wager on it.”

  “A thousand notes?” Hayden offered.

  She laughed. “Deal.”

  Hayden turned to Brink. “I’ll need to borrow Corporal Todd.”

  “Why?” Brink asked.

  “Who’s going to keep Vazquez in line when I disembark the Osprey?”

  “I’ll do it, Sheriff,” Thomas said.

  Hayden looked at him. “I appreciate the intel you provided earlier, but I don’t trust you that much.”

  “I think Maya’s right,” Thomas said. “It doesn’t matter if we bring you west. The Colonel will take care of you.”

  “You want to wager on that too?”

  “Sure. We’ll stay in line, Sheriff. You have my word as a Centurion.”

  “Mine too,” Vazquez said. “The more I think about it, the more fun I think this’ll be. It’s not treason if we’re technically bringing you in, right?”

  Hayden considered it. There was always a chance the two Custodians could turn on him, but frankly he wasn’t all that worried about either of them. The worst thing Vazquez could do would be to purposely crash the aircraft, but that wouldn’t be very good for her health either, and she seemed too loyal to her family to go kamikaze.

  “You’re crazy to trust them, Sheriff,” Brink said.

  “Maybe so.” He looked at Thomas and Vazquez. “Either one of you double-crosses me—”

  “We know,” Thomas said before Hayden could finish.

  Hayden unhitched Zorro from the column. “Which way is the Osprey? I’m done wasting time.”

  11

  Marcus

  The Custodian guards escorted Marcus through the complex, the windowless passages proving the entire place was underground. He didn’t realize how true that was until they reached a doorway and the two doors parted in opposite directions, revealing a massive hangar behind them.

  The hangar didn’t have much in it, in relation to its size. But it had more tech, both ancient Space Force and more modern Centurion, than Marcus could believe. Bays of large robots sat on the left side of the hangar, the large and aggressive-looking machines missing pieces of armor plating and trailing wires, their posture suggesting they weren’t going to become active any time soon. Rows of smaller but still intimidating bots stood at attention in front of them, the more humanoid Butchers plugged into what Marcus assumed was a Centurion reactor on the ground nearby. Three more robots guarded the front of the hangar near the bay doors, multi-armed mechanicals too sleek and modern to be from Earth.

  There were more conventional vehicles in the hangar too—a pair of helicopters, another Osprey and an aircraft as sleek and deadly-looking as a dagger. There were wheeled vehicles too—armored personnel carriers and a few tanks—all of them left over from the war.

  Only a handful of people were present in the space, the majority of them at the Osprey, fueling and prepping it for launch. The pilot stood outside the craft near the hatch, a smaller man in a dark blue flight suit. His eyes turned toward Marcus as he was led into the massive cavern.

  Those eyes stayed on Marcus for the entire walk across the gap, which took nearly a minute. The pilot offered a smile once Marcus had actually reached him, extending a hand. “Captain Jake Rogers,” he said. “I hear you shot the Sheriff. Did you shoot the deputy too?”

  Marcus shook his hand. “No. I didn’t shoot any deputies,” he replied, the answer eliciting a laugh from the pilot.

  “I’m just screwing with you, mate,” Rogers said. “It’s from an old Earth song.” He broke into song, reciting the lyrics. “What do you think, mate?”

  “I think you’re off key,” Marcus replied, which caused Rogers to laugh even harder.

  “You’re the first VIP I’ve been asked to ferry in a while,” the pilot said. “We’re ready to go as soon as you are.”

  “VIP?” Marcus asked. “I was under the impression I’m a prisoner.”

  “Mate, if you’re a prisoner, I want to get court-martialed right now. The Colonel wants you in Sanisco yesterday.” Rogers turned to one of the techs near the aircraft. “Hey, you! Yeah, you, mate. How much longer? We’ve got to get a move on.”

  “Almost done, sir,” the tech replied.

  Rogers turned back to Marcus. “Let’s get on board.”

  They climbed into the aircraft. Marcus headed for one of the seats in the back until Rogers froze. “You shy or something? It’s going to be a lonely ride if you plan to sit back there.”

  Marcus shrugged and followed Rogers up to the cockpit. “The pilots on my ride from Sanisco down to the Southern Reach were nowhere near as friendly,” he explained. “I couldn’t get two words out of them, except go away.”

  Rogers cracked up. “You must have pulled Nguyen and Vazquez. They’re serious business. No sense of humor at all. Me? I don’t see the point of making a flight in silence. Bores me to death, you know what I mean, mate?”

  “I know what you mean,” Marcus said.

  “You must have a hard time being a little teapot, eh mate?” Rogers said as they sat down. The pilot buckled himself in, flipping switches on the cockpit.

  “Little teapot?” Marcus said, confused.

  “Sorry, another old Earth reference.” He shifted his hands on either side of his body. “You know, you can’t do this because…” he trailed off, laughing.

  Marcus leaned back in the seat, wondering if he would have been better off with Nguyen or Vazquez. Had he pulled the psychopath instead?

  Rogers looked out the window. “I think he’s done enough,” he said. “Want to turn the rotors on and scare the shit out of the little twerp?” He flipped another switch and the blades started spinning up. The tech shouted, quickly unlatching the fuel line and running away from the craft while Rogers guffawed. “Every. Single. Time.”

  “Control, this is Stork,” Rogers said, opening a comm line. “I’ve got the baby and I’m ready to deliver.”

  “Rogers, this is Control,” a woman’s voice replied, unamused by his schtick. “You’re cleared for takeoff. Opening bay doors now.”

  The huge doors at the front of the hangar thunked loudly and then began to pull aside, revealing flat desert behind them.

  “This hangar used to have a starship in it once, a long time ago,” Rogers said to Marcus. “Not one of the big colony ships. An experimental craft called the Foresight. It was supposed to be a scout or something. That’s why the bay is so big.”

  “What happened to it?” Marcus asked.

  “It went scouting, I guess,” Rogers replied. “Who knows. Here we go.”

  Unlike Marcus’ earlier experience with the Osprey, Rogers flew it like a standard aircraft, taxing along the hangar’s floor toward the still-opening doors. As he gained speed, Marcus started to realize the doors weren’t open enough to allow them out.

  “Captain,” he said, pointing at the doors.

  “Oh,” Rogers said. “I think I’m approaching the doors too fast.” He pushed forward on the throttle, pushing the plane forward a little faster.

  Marcus looked over at the pilot, who had a huge smile on his face. He was trying to frighten him. Testing his mettle. Marcus refused to give in. He leaned back in the seat, remaining calm as they approached the slow-opening hangar doors. He held his breath until the Osprey passed through with mere inches to spare and bounced out onto the barren tarmac.

  “Yeeee-haw!” Rogers shouted, laughing as he accelerated and they lifted into the sky. A moment later, he looked over at Marcus. Seeing him relaxed, he shook his head. “I had a feeling that wouldn’t work on you. You’re cool as a cucumber. You’d have to be to duel the Sheriff, eh mate?”