“How does this all involve Nemesis?” Maigo asks, her voice quiet, her glaring attention still locked on the large floating head.
The ceiling shakes from an impact high above. When we all look up, listening to the rumble, Cole says, “We’re safe down here. Not even a nuclear blast can reach us. As for Nemesis, we believe Prime was sent to Earth by the Aeros as a kind of watchdog. So when the Atlanteans, brought to Earth by the Ferox, set up shop, Nemesis Prime exacted her vengeance on them. In the end, Prime was defeated—how, we don’t know, though the corpse shows signs of a battle with something equally large—but not before the battle destroyed Atlantis and scattered the few survivors.”
“Okay, thanks for the history lesson, chubs,” I say. “But you still haven’t given me a good reason to not hunt you down and shoot you, put you in the Viking’s tank, and arrange you in an embarrassing pose.”
Cole’s face gets serious, but I don’t think it has anything to do with my blatant disrespect. “Ten years ago, when the citadel in the Arctic was raised, we detected a powerful signal sent from near-Earth orbit and into deep space. We later learned that the Ferox attacking the scientific crew were simply trying to prevent that signal from being sent.”
“We’ve been compromised,” Endo says. “Their influence on us revealed.”
“Yes.” Cole takes a deep breath and sighs. “And the Aeros are coming back.” He looks me in the eyes. “We don’t know when, but they’ll eventually come, and we’re doing everything we can—” He turns to Collins. “—including breaking every rule in the book, in an effort to save the entire God damned planet. Imagine what a single Tsuchi could do if it was set loose in an enemy ship. We’d stand a real chance of surviving—”
“But at what cost?” Collins asks. “If we have to become something worse than human to survive, do we deserve to survive?”
“Anyone they didn’t kill would be enslaved.”
“There has to be a better way,” Collins says.
“When you figure it out, you let me know. In the meantime, I would appreciate it if you would all leave without further conflict.” He puts his hand to his ear, where I see a small earbud. “It seems your friends have survived an encounter with Silhouette—”
As much as his words tense my muscles, the impact is dwarfed by a sudden impact that jolts the floor beneath us and fills the base with an echoing rumble. The lights flicker and go out.
The darkness lasts just a few seconds, and then power is restored. Cole is headed toward the wall, which in his location, must be a door. “Leave now, while you can. If you stay, I will consider you all property of GOD, to be used however I deem necessary.” He stops in the doorway. “Hudson, if these guys come back...”
“Call me,” I say.
Collins looks ready to clock me, but if everything Cole has just said is true, then we can’t be kept out of the loop. If I can make deals with demons, I can make deals with devils, too, especially if it means saving the human race, which at the moment contains a good number of people I care about.
“No one will stop you on the way out,” Cole says. “But you’re on your own now. The Tsuchi and Nemesis are your problems.”
“But the Tsuchi...” Endo starts.
“Is retreating northeast, I’m told.” He taps his earbud. “As is Nemesis.”
“Cole,” I say, stopping his exit. “You’ll leave us alone?”
He ponders this for a moment, and then says, “You don’t step on my toes, I won’t step on yours.”
Collins takes hold of my wrist. She doesn’t like bowing to evil men. She’d rather knock them senseless. “This is for the girls,” I say, and she loosens her grip. I turn back to Cole. “Done.”
He nods and steps toward the wall, pixelating and fading away, leaving us with the manipulators, invaders and potential destroyers of the human race. I stand there for a moment, looking at the bodies, feeling a powerful sense of impending doom...but that could have more to do with the Tsuchi above us and Nemesis closing in. Sometimes, this job sucks.
37
Back in the elevator, Collins, Maigo, Endo and I are all silent, digesting the unbelievable information Cole has just laid on us. How much of it is true and how much is speculation, or exaggeration, I don’t know, but one thing’s for certain, the FC-P is going to need a bigger budget. I turn to Endo. “How much of what he said do you believe?”
Endo answers without thought. “All of it.”
“Multiple races of aliens. The manipulation of the human race for thousands of years. At-freaking-lantis.”