“We have to go,” he told her. “But you don’t need to come with us. We can leave you here and your friends will find you.”
She chewed on her lower lip, her gaze darting between the two of them. Was she thinking about her duty? She was clearly torn. She looked back up at the stars.
He realized he didn’t want to leave her here, and he wasn’t sure why. He hardly knew her. She wasn’t his responsibility. He didn’t do responsible. But he hated the idea of her being caged in that cell.
“Come on, Milo,” Dylan said. “We need to get the hell out of here.”
He was right. Their hunters were only minutes away.
“Can I go with you for a little while and then come back?” Destiny asked.
“Of course. You can do whatever you like.” At least she could if she came with them. If she didn’t, then no doubt she’d be locked up again.
She cast a glance toward the tunnel, where the sound of approaching people was growing louder. Then she smiled and it lit up her face. “Take me with you.”
In that moment, he had a premonition that he was perhaps making a huge mistake. A mistake that would ripple down and change everything. But also in that moment, he couldn’t see how.
He grabbed her hand. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Twelve
“If you wish to discover the guilty person, first find out to whom the crime might be useful.”
—Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo
A knock sounded on the door. Luther glanced up from his work then swiped the control panel to show the camera view of the corridor. Silas stood outside the door. Luther swiped again, and the door clicked to unlock. Once it opened, Silas stepped into the room. He crossed the space and sank into the chair opposite.
Luther grinned. “You’re a mind reader. I need some help.”
Silas raised an eyebrow. “You do?”
“Yes. I need a title. I was thinking…Leader?”
Silas shook his head. “A little on the nose perhaps.”
“Commander in chief?”
“Sounds too military. We don’t want to scare people.”
“Not yet, anyway. How about President?”
“Too many bad connotations,” Silas replied.
Probably right. Nobody wanted to be grouped together with President Max Beauchamp. The guy had been a fuckwit. Secretly, Luther really liked the title of king. He’d had a fascination with King Arthur from when he was a child growing up in a high-rise council flat in Glasgow. But he didn’t think it would go down too well. The last monarchy in the UK had hardly been role models.
“God?” Silas suggested.
Luther laughed. “That might upset the Church.” Not that he’d usually give a shit, but right now he needed the Church of Everlasting Life on his side, however much he might dislike the idea. They had a lot of influence. At some point in the not-too-distant future, he was expecting a level of unrest. Right now, the troublemakers were quietly disappearing. But there were way too many Chosen Ones with an inflated sense of self-worth. All that talk before they left Earth about being the future of humanity. It had gone to their heads.
“Prime Minister?” Silas said.
“Hmm.” He considered it. He liked it actually. Still had a few negative connections, though. “How about First Minister?” He grinned. First Minister of the New World. “You can be Second Minister if you like.” After all, what was the point of being in charge if you couldn’t spread a little love around? “Well, that’s one thing off the to-do list. I’ll make the announcement tomorrow. So, is there something you need?”
“A couple of things,” Silas said. “We’re getting some aggro from the labor groups. It’s all very well making the troublemakers disappear, but there’s just too many of them. It’s going to interfere with the schedule.”
He suspected the main issue was that many of the Chosen Ones hadn’t exactly been chosen. They’d likely paid for their places. He, more than anybody, knew how easy that was. All you’d needed was money and connections, and there had been plenty of people with those. Likely many of the people building his castle had been billionaires back on earth. The thought made him smile but didn’t solve the problem. “How about children?”
“Children? Won’t that be seen as a little unethical?”
If Silas had one flaw, it was a tendency to be too…nice. “I’m not suggesting we use babies. Say between the ages of twelve and sixteen. Old enough to work, young enough to be malleable.”
Silas didn’t appear convinced, but he shrugged. “I’ll