“All but a few cities have an evacuation in progress,” Lawson replies. “Last I checked, most of them were at about eighty percent relocation. This extra day really bought us some ti—”
Lawson is interrupted by a hurried knock on the door. Before he can answer, an FBI agent with a thick five-o’clock shadow enters, even though the twins try to block him. I recognize him as Noto, the guy Adam is teaching how to speak Mogadorian way down in the sub-subbasement.
“Excuse me, sir,” he says to Lawson before he turns his attention to John. “You should probably come down to our monitoring station. Something’s happening.”
That can’t be good.
The three of us, plus Lawson, the twins and Noto, hustle down to where Adam is monitoring the Mogadorian transmissions. On the way, Noto brings us up to speed as best he can.
“The Mog warship captains were going back and forth like they’ve been all day, especially since the one disobeyed orders and moved his ship to Niagara Falls,” Noto explains hurriedly. “Just now, a new voice came on—”
“Setrákus Ra?” I ask.
“No, a woman,” Noto replies. “She’s been giving a speech, putting everybody in their place by the sounds of it. Adam looks . . .”
He looks pissed, that much is obvious as soon as we enter the room. Adam sits on the edge of his chair, hands clasped tightly in front of him, his dark eyes glaring at the Skimmer console. Of course I recognize the voice that’s got Adam looking so murderous.
“Phiri Dun-Ra,” I say.
“Who?” John asks, turning to me as we all crowd around Adam.
“A most unpleasant person, even in terms of Mogadorians,” Marina says.
“She’s the bitch who was in charge of breaking into the Sanctuary,” I tell John. “We had some run-ins.”
“She almost killed me and Dust,” Adam says quietly, not taking his eyes off the console, listening to Phiri’s every harsh-sounding word.
“Last I saw her, she was dragging Setrákus Ra onto the Anubis,” I say.
General Lawson clears his throat. “Son, what’s she saying?”
Adam takes a deep breath and lets it hiss through his teeth. “She’s putting the fear into the trueborn captains, taking them to task for doubting their Leader. She says the delay in the attack is inconsequential, as humanity is weak and a Mogadorian victory is all but assured.”
Lawson stiffens at that.
“Did she mention that I impaled their Beloved Leader?” I ask.
“Of course not,” Adam grumbles. “She claims Setrákus Ra has been busy finishing his life’s work of elevating the Mogadorian race. She says that what he’s accomplished is nothing short of a miracle and that the faithful will be rewarded. The doubters? She says there’s nothing in store for them but pain beyond belief.”
“Lead with the carrot or the stick,” Lawson mutters.
“What kind of miracle could that monster work?” Marina asks.
“We know what his life’s work is,” I say. “We saw it in that vision.”
“The energy he stole from the Sanctuary,” John says quietly. “The process we saw in Ella’s vision, turning it into that black ooze of his. He must be back to that.”
“I don’t know what the hell all that means,” Lawson interrupts. “But it sounds like our time is running out.”
Adam holds up a hand as Phiri Dun-Ra’s speech reaches a crescendo. His mouth hangs open, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.
“She claims . . . she claims that, thanks to the wisdom of Beloved Leader, she’s been granted Legacies,” Adam says, the sound of Phiri Dun-Ra’s happy laughter almost drowning him out.
“Bullshit,” I say. “Even assuming that’s true, whatever they’ve got are not Legacies.”
“We saw him do it,” Marina says, a low note of dread in her voice. “The people working with him on that machine, he’d given them telekinesis.”
“Those people looked sick. Monstrous.” That observation comes from Caleb, the first words he’s said since we came down here. I look over at him, and he’s staring down at the backs of his hands as if looking to see if there’s anything running through the veins there. His brother, Christian, meanwhile, remains completely still and silent.
“He’s had hundreds of years to perfect his experiment,” John says. “He only needed access to more of the raw materials.”
“And we unlocked it for him,” I say, shaking my head.
A new voice comes over the broadcast. Not a voice at all, actually—a scream. An anguished cry from what sounds like a boy being tortured. Everyone in the room falls silent as Phiri Dun-Ra resumes speaking over the screaming, her tone upbeat and chipper.
“What in the hell is that?” Lawson asks.
Adam swallows hard. “She says it’s a Garde they captured in Mexico City. A human. They’re extracting his Legacies. Killing him.”
“Turn it off,” Marina says, looking like she’s going to be sick.
Adam turns first to me, then at John. Both of us nod. This kind of thing can’t go unanswered.
“Do it,” John says.
Adam reaches forward but doesn’t turn off the broadcast. Instead, he picks up a microphone and opens up a channel.
Lawson starts forward to stop Adam, and the twins follow suit; but John puts a hand on the older man’s chest, stopping him.
“Can they track our signal?” Lawson whispers with wide eyes.
“No,” John whispers back. “He already took care of that. We’re a ghost.”
Lawson doesn’t seem entirely convinced. He shoots a look in Noto’s direction. The agent nods curtly, affirming what John said.
Anyway, it’s too late. Adam’s already started talking.
“Phiri Dun-Ra is a liar,” Adam announces in English, though he amps up the harshness in his voice, utilizing that guttural Mogadorian accent. He must be using English for our benefit—so that Lawson knows he’s not giving away any secrets. “What she’s telling you is only meant to advance her own power.”
The screaming cuts off. A few confused voices answer in Mogadorian. Phiri Dun-Ra’s voice carries over them all.
“Is that you, Adamus?” she asks, laughing. “How did you get on this channel, little boy?”
Adam ignores her, presses on. “My name is Adamus Sutekh, son of General Andrakkus Sutekh. I faced my father in single combat and defeated him. I pried his blade out of his dead hand, and I put it to its intended use. I used it to kill a Loric. A Loric who called himself Setrákus Ra.”
Now there’s shouting. Outraged cries in Mogadorian from a dozen different voices. I can’t help but smirk at the chaos and panic created by just a few words.
Phiri Dun-Ra screeches to be heard over the others. “These are the fabrications of a disgraced trueborn! A traitor to our race!”
“Then let Beloved Leader answer me!” Adam shouts back. “Perhaps he can speak through the hole I put in his chest! Phiri Dun-Ra knows the truth, brothers and sisters, and she now seeks to rule us through the same lies that Setrákus Ra used for centuries. Do not let it happen!”
“These are blasphemies—!” shrieks Phiri.
“Let him answer, then!” Adam yells again. “Let the immortal Setrákus Ra answer, if he still draws breath.”
For a moment, all lines go quiet, waiting for something to happen.
Only silence from Phiri Dun-Ra.
“You will pay,” she says finally, her voice filled with hate. “You will pay for your lack of faith.”
There’s a sharp beep, the sound of her cutting off communication. Immediately, the dozens of warship captains who have been listening to this entire exchange begin to shout at each other.
Adam turns off his mic and swivels around to face us.
“Now,” he says. “We let them kill each other.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SYDNEY GETS IT THE WORST.