Jarren has been hiding on Planet Yulin this entire time. Even though the desire to get far away fast pushes on me, I need to move through the Q-net without causing ripples. I don’t want Jarren to know I’ve located him. Before I wake up…er…disentangle, I check the satellite feeds, searching for a shuttle flying toward the base or an army of looters crossing the desert.
The early morning sun washes the sand with its golden light. Other than a few field teams, nothing else stirs. I create a program to alert us if there is any movement from Jarren’s camp. Tucking it into Jarren’s own protections to hide it is somewhat fun—I’m still freaked over the fact he’s so close. And that he knows I’m alive. And that we had a conversation through the Q-net.
Although I shouldn’t be surprised Jarren knows. Beau and I predicted DES would bungle it. Then I disentangle, ensuring I don’t take any shortcuts to avoid a killer migraine, and ignoring the tight ball of panic in my chest that’s squeezing out distress signals: Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!
When I open my eyes, Radcliff is standing in the living room. He’s frowning down at the portable in his hands.
“Why are you on the couch?” he asks.
“I couldn’t sleep.” The truth.
He taps the portable. “So you were worming instead?”
Talk about a trick question. Smoothing my hair away from my face, I sit up. “No. I was reading. Then I fell asleep and then I was worming.” Which didn’t sound as good as it did in my head. “But not on purpose.”
“Ara—”
“Jarren knows I’m alive. And he’s here. On Yulin.”
Radcliff’s grumpy annoyance transforms to steel. “Where?”
“Other side of the planet. In the forest.”
His fingers dance on the portable for a minute. Then he hands it to me. “Show me.”
There’s a map of Yulin. I scroll, searching for an area that looks familiar until the rest of my brain wakes up. Connecting with the Q-net, I request a marker. A big red dot pulses over a large swathe of trees. I return the portable to him and disconnect.
“Sonovabitch,” Radcliff says, striding to the door.
Before he can take off, I say, “I’ve set up an alarm. If he leaves that area, you’ll be alerted.”
He pauses with one hand on the door. “I don’t know whether to discipline you for disobeying orders or give you a commendation.”
I know which one I’d pick. “Let’s get through this first and then you can decide.”
“Nice dodge, Lawrence.” He leaves.
And I hurry to report to training on time. I know not to say anything to Elese, but I have to admit it’s killing me not to confide in her. The need to hear her say, “It’ll be okay” is almost a physical ache. A hug of support would be nice, too. I’m even willing to overlook the evidence to the contrary. Yup, I’m that easy.
My sessions with Mr. Orange Light have progressed. Now he swings back and forth, ducking my shots. And I know it’s a cliché to say that it’s hard to hit a moving target, but it is really difficult to get the timing just right. While my misses outnumber my hits ten to one, I wonder how Jarren managed to shoot me from a hovering shuttle, while I was running. He must have practiced during those extra twenty years.
Other than plotting to take over the Galaxy, what else was he doing? Probably figuring out the Warrior mystery and other nefarious deeds. I have to admit when he said he’d explain everything to me and that we’d be heroes, I was tempted to hear him out. But… If he can figure it all out, then so can we.
Determination pumps through my veins. I aim, wait a few seconds, and fire. Direct hit! Yes! Mr. Orange Light winks out.
And so do the rest of the lights in the shooting range. I count heartbeats. One. Two. Three. Four. Then they turn back on along with my panic. Expecting to see looters streaming into the training room, I race out with my pulse gun in hand and stop.
Zaim and Rance are using the weight machines and Elese is pummeling a punching bag with her bare knuckles. No one appears alarmed. But then again no one knows about our unfriendly neighbor.
“Something wrong?” Elese asks. Sweat streams down her face, but she’s not out of breath. The bag creaks as it spins and swings on the end of the chain.
“Did the lights flicker out here?”
“Yeah. Must have been a glitch.