“What’s with them?” she whispers.
“No idea,” I reply. “I guess not everyone who got Legacies is as charming as Sam.”
Marina smirks at me. We fall silent as we look around Lawson’s office. It’s a pretty ordinary setup, a beat-up desk where Lawson sits in a lumbar-support chair, a few folding chairs positioned in front of that, a little table against one wall with a drip machine currently brewing a fresh pot from freeze-dried, army-issued coffee crystals.
What really catches my attention, the reason why I’m sure Lawson moved down here, is the bank of monitors that cover the wall behind his desk. The screens feature all kinds of things; some show grainy footage of warships that must come direct from cameras in the occupied cities, others are tuned to the few news networks still able to broadcast and some are set to security footage of Patience Creek itself.
Lawson turns away from this array of information as soon as we enter. He stands up, brushes a hand down the front of his uniform and smiles congenially.
“Ah, hello there,” he says, taking in the three of us. All our looks are varying degrees of confrontational, so he first addresses Marina. “I’m glad to see you up and around, young lady.”
“Thank you,” she replies.
“I’ve heard nothing but good things about you,” Lawson continues.
“What . . . what have you heard?” Marina raises an eyebrow.
“I heard you’re a healer, which, if you ask me, is about the most blessed power you folks can develop.” He lowers his voice conspiratorially. “I also heard from some of my boys that you’re a real badass with an icicle.”
Marina reddens at this reference to her confrontation with Five. Before anything else is said, John jumps in.
“You wanted to see me.”
Lawson nods and retakes his seat, motioning for us to sit in the folding chairs arranged in front of his desk. We all remain standing.
“Yes, I did want to speak with you,” Lawson says to John, then points at me. “I wanted to know why Six here and some of your other associates were leaving the base. Now that she’s back and brought some LANEs with her, I don’t feel all that concerned.”
“You never needed to be concerned,” I say.
“Yes, well, I worry,” Lawson says to me, playing up that folksy-grandfather vibe. He turns his attention back to John. “Maybe we got off on the wrong foot earlier. I realize your group isn’t used to working with others. And you should realize that it’s a strange experience for my people as well. I don’t want you to feel that I’m threatening your autonomy—I doubt I could do that even if I wanted. But we are fighting towards a common goal here. It would be ideal if we knew what each other was doing.”
“I agree,” John says, though it sounds like he mostly wants the old man to stop talking.
Lawson runs a hand over his silver hair, his attention back on me. “For instance, your operation in Niagara Falls caused the warship that was located in Toronto to move down there. It’s the first movement we’ve seen out of the hostiles since Setrákus Ra went quiet. Caused quite a stir that could’ve been avoided if you’d been open with me.”
“Nobody fired off any nukes, though, right?” I ask. “No harm done.”
“Not this time, no,” Lawson replies through his teeth. “The Canadians had units stationed around that warship that’ll need to be repositioned in Niagara Falls, which is a pain in the ass. On the other hand, a major population center that hadn’t been fully evacuated is out of the crosshairs, at least for now. If that happened somewhere else in the world, though? Where our allies weren’t so disciplined? Could’ve created some difficulties.”
“It won’t happen again,” John says, with his agreement undercut by his dismissive tone. He sets the atlas he’s been carrying down on top of Lawson’s desk. “I’ve marked locations of the Loralite stones in here.”
Lawson smiles and puts a hand on top of the atlas. “Ah, low-tech. I like it.”
“We really need these sites secured before the Mogs can sniff them out,” John continues. “Especially if you want to use them to transport the cloaking devices.”
“I’ll make sure that happens.” Lawson pats the atlas. “And I’ll keep it on a need-to-know basis. No leaks.”
“You might get some more human Garde teleporting in, too,” I add. “Make sure nobody screws with them. Mog or human.”
Lawson strokes his chin, clean shaven, even at a time like this. “You think we plan to hurt these gifted young people?” he asks, sounding mildly affronted.
We all speak at once.
“Perhaps not hurt . . . ,” Marina begins diplomatically.
“Enlist them,” John says.
“Exploit them,” I throw in.
“We just don’t want anyone forced to do anything they aren’t prepared for,” Marina concludes.
Lawson stares at us for a moment. He glances at the door, making sure that it’s shut, probably so the twins outside won’t overhear what he’s about to say.
“Look, I’ll be straight with you,” he says. “There are going to be elements in our government, hell, in nations all around the world, who are going to see these young people you’ve gifted as . . . assets. You saw what happened with MogPro. Dangle a little extraterrestrial power in front of these folks and they’ll sell their souls, invasion be damned.”
“And you’re not one of those people?” John asks.
“No, son, I am not,” Lawson replies. “I’m an old man who was happy playing golf a few weeks ago. I’m not interested in profit or power. I’m interested in keeping this world safe. I believe you folks can be a force for good. I’ve seen all the footage: the healing, the self-sacrifice. I’ve also met that one-eyed fellow you’ve got down in the basement. We don’t want any more of those, do we?”
I glance in Marina’s direction. “No, we definitely do not.”
“I’m all about keeping the world safe. Training your people, putting them in positions where they can use their gifts for the greater good.” John’s about to say something, but Lawson holds up a hand. “These are all just words if we don’t win this war, and considering your past experiences with government organizations, I’d think you were fools if you didn’t distrust me. But when all this is over, I want you to be involved. I want you to tell me what’s best for these young people, for our planet. And I’ll want your help making that happen.”
The three of us exchange looks. If Lawson’s playing us, he’s doing a real good job of it. But judging by John’s distant expression, I’m not sure all his concerns have been put to rest. Or maybe, like me, he’s realizing how pointless it is to argue about the future in the face of certain death.
I clear my throat and change the subject. “So, about those cloaking devices.”
“Still no progress from my R&D on engineering our own version,” Lawson replies, relieved to be back on mission.
“That’s all right,” John says. “We’re ready to steal you some. That warship that the human Garde lured to Niagara Falls is a perfect target. Isolated, distracted, overextended.”
“YouTube stupidity occasionally pays off,” I add.
“I’m going to take a small team and slip on board, steal the devices,” John continues. “Ready to go with that as soon as possible.”
Lawson nods. “Excellent. I’ll want to have a team of my own in place nearby, just in case things go haywire and you need extraction.”
“I don’t have a problem with that, so long as they aren’t spotted,” John replies.
Marina’s been quiet for a while. She stares at one of the news channels, watching footage from London. Thousands of people are marching through the streets, evacuating with only the possessions they can carry, while a warship looms in the background.
“What’s being done to protect the people in the cities with warships?” she asks. “The Mogadorians will inevitably press their attack. . . .”