would work here. He had an idea that before this was over, he would be thankful for a bit of magic.
He and Dylan were silent until the road crew moved away, but Milo knew it wouldn’t last. Dylan was a pack animal and he liked to talk.
“So did you find anything last night?” Dylan asked.
“A little. There are tunnels beneath the main building. Looks like they’ve been there a long time—not something new. Kinross is storing something down there. I couldn’t get a look at what, but I’d imagine some sort of weapons. Among other things. I need to take another look.” He thought about Destiny. Locked in a cell for her own protection. And the really tragic thing was she believed that nonsense.
She’d said she was born on the Trakis Four. He hadn’t heard of anyone else born during the trip from Earth. Which didn’t mean it hadn’t happened.
“Have you heard of anyone born on the ships since the fleet left Earth?” he asked Dylan.
“No. It would be against fleet regulations. Why do you ask?”
“No reason.”
She was a mystery. He liked mysteries. And there was something so appealing about her, as though she were a blank canvas that had never been marked. She’d told him that she’d never met anyone else. No one but the doctor who was in charge of her. How could that have been? Why had she never encountered any of the other crew members? Clearly, she had been kept isolated. But why?
Maybe she’d been sick, though she looked healthy now, and besides, that wouldn’t explain why she was locked in a cell beneath Luther Kinross’s castle.
That’s what it reminded him of—a castle.
“What did you think of our new friend, Luther?” Dylan asked.
“Total dickhead.”
“But a dickhead with an agenda. And he’s well prepared. He must have had things in place before the fleet left Earth to be able to take over this smoothly. My guess is the crew of the Trakis Four are on his payroll, and he had some sort of mercenary army on board.”
“The guys in green.”
“Yeah. They’re the only people armed right now. Well, except us.”
While they had surrendered the guns they’d carried the previous night—guns which hadn’t been returned—they had more weapons on board the shuttle. Weapons and booze. At least Rico had gotten the supplies right. “Things seem peaceable right now,” Milo said.
“I doubt that will last. Most of the Chosen Ones weren’t exactly chosen. They paid for their places and they didn’t come cheap. These guys were players back on Earth. They’re not going to be happy getting downgraded to manual laborers.”
Dylan had a point. But they were hardly in a position to comment—hadn’t they done the same thing? Bought their places on the Trakis Two, with little or no thought to the thousands of people whose futures they had stolen. Though he supposed by that point the real Chosen Ones had likely already been replaced by the paying customers. So there was perhaps a little justice. But it did make you think about just what they were populating the new world with. The cream of humanity.
Ha.
“What are you up to?” Dylan asked.
“Nothing.”
He peered a little closer. “You’re making a wand? Cool.” He sat down next to Milo, elbows resting on his knees. “What’s the deal between you and Rico, anyway? Is he really your uncle?”
Milo wasn’t going there. It was none of Dylan’s business. “There is no deal.”
“Come on. I saw the way the two of you were together. There’s history.”
None he wanted to share, so he just shrugged.
“And was Rico right? Do you think we should come out in the open about what we are?”
“Why not? You don’t think humans are ready to accept us?” Actually, he was pretty sure the ones on Trakis Four were nowhere near ready.
Dylan considered the question. “Maybe you—you’re like Harry bloody Potter, and even us werewolves have a chance—hey, we can be sort of cute and furry.”
He’d seen Dylan’s wolf form, and “cute” it was not.
“But vampires?” Dylan continued. “I’m not so sure. Humans are their prey. That’s never going to change, and most people won’t be too comfortable with that.”
“There have always been humans more than willing to voluntarily feed a vampire. They don’t need to kill to feed on them.”
“Maybe they don’t need to. That doesn’t mean they don’t want to.”
“Well,” Milo said, “they’ll just have to learn a little restraint.”
“Ha. Tell that to Uncle Rico.”
“I have. Numerous times.” He thought about the sort of world he would like to