“Be safe,” Marina says, her words echoed by most of the others.
“Adam, help me work the airlock, would you?” I ask on my way out. The Mogadorian raises an eyebrow at me, surprised to be asked to help with a task that he knows I could do on my own. He doesn’t make a thing about it, though. He simply nods and follows me into the hallway.
Together, we walk down the empty corridors of the warship. The signs of our earlier attack still linger, Mogadorian ash crunching beneath our feet. Adam doesn’t say anything. He waits for me to speak.
“Listen,” I start, when I’m sure we’re out of range of any enhanced listeners. “Once you disable the force field, I need you to come back up to the warship.”
“Okay . . . ,” Adam says.
“There’s a chance things might not go as planned down there,” I continue. “If that’s the case, I’ll let you know telepathically. When I tell you, no matter what, no matter who on board might try to stop you, you’ve got to fire the warship’s cannon. Destroy the mountain. Erase it. It doesn’t matter if some of us are still inside. Setrákus Ra and his work can’t be allowed to see the sunrise.”
Adam stops midstride and grabs my arm. “You’re serious?”
“You know I am.”
His hand tightens on my arm, then drops away. He keeps his tone measured. “Why . . . why are you asking me to do this, John? Because I’m the Mogadorian that means I’m cold and heartless? That I don’t care about what happens to you all?”
“No,” I say, taking him by the shoulders. “I know you care, Adam. I know it’ll kill you to do it. But you also know that I’m right. That stopping Setrákus Ra is more important than . . . than anything. If worse comes to worst, you’ll pull that trigger.”
Adam holds my gaze for a few seconds, then looks away. He steps back so that my hands fall off his shoulders.
“Okay, John,” he says simply.
“Okay.”
I don’t actually need him to help me with the airlock.
Alone, I pass through the warship’s ravaged docking bay, open up the exit and fly into the night. Wilderness passes by beneath me, peaceful and untouched. The wind plucks at my clothes, cool against the sweat on my back.
The mountain rises up before me. Dark purple in the night. Waiting for me.
I go invisible.
The Anubis hovers over the mountain, an insectoid guardian. Its metallic hull reflects the moonlight. Searchlights from the warship’s underbelly comb the side of the mountain, the cleared space around the cavern entrance, the sparse woods beyond. They’re expecting us. The Anubis does a slow circle around the mountain’s peak, prowling just like it did in New York City.
This time, I’m not running away.
From my back pocket, I produce my satellite phone. I dial the number programmed in for Lawson. Two simple words.
“Open fire.”
I don’t listen for a response. I know what happens next. Soon, all around the world, counterattacks will begin.
I drop the phone. Let it smash down in the woods a few miles down. I won’t need it anymore. No more talking, no more politics.
I reach out to Six telepathically.
The Anubis is over the mountain. Get ready.
I glance back in the direction I came from. Our warship is too far off to see, but the storm clouds aren’t. Thick and dark, they blot out the stars, ruining what was a perfectly clear night sky. Lightning shivers through them, the wind picks up and I can hear hailstones falling in the distance. They roll towards me, towards the Anubis.
It’ll be a storm like the Mogadorians have never seen.
We’re coming.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“GAIN SOME ALTITUDE, REX,” ADAM SAYS. “I want to swoop down from above them. That good for you, Six?”
“Yeah,” I reply distractedly. “Got it covered.”
I stand right in front of the enormous windows on our warship’s bridge, my hands raised in the air, fingers twisting. I can see reflections of the others in the glass, but I’m more focused on what’s outside. I pull at the indelible threads of atmosphere that only I can sense and caress the wind into doing my bidding. If it wasn’t for the thick sheet of glass in front of me, I could reach out and touch the roiling clouds that I’ve created.
A storm. A bigger storm than I’ve ever managed. Over the years, I’ve mostly relied on lightning strikes, high winds, sudden surges of cloud cover—quick effects. Not much can stand against Mother Nature for long. I’ve never really needed to build and sustain a massive storm front before.
Well, Katarina used to say, discovery is born of desperation.
“Visibility is really bad,” Rex calls to Adam.
“It’s okay,” Adam replies. Ella stands next to him, her eyes rolled back in her head, seeing everything that John sees. “We know where we’re going, and our target’s hard to miss. Keep us climbing.”
I have surrounded our warship with storm clouds and fog. Lightning strikes sizzle right in front of us and sting my eyes with their brightness. Our ship is big, but my storm front is bigger. It stretches nearly a mile wide and up, up, like a tidal wave crawling through the sky. Adam has triggered a scrambling device for radar so, between that and the static from the lightning, we should be wreaking havoc on the Anubis’s sensors. They’ll definitely know that we’re coming, but they won’t know where exactly in the storm we’re hiding. Not until it’s too late.
Marina stands at my side. She’s ready to enhance my storm with chunks of ice when needed. For now, she wipes some sweat from my forehead.
“You’re doing great, Six,” she says.
It isn’t until I try to smile at her and hear my teeth chatter that I realize I’m shaking.
Press on. Grow the storm. Bigger and bigger.
The winds howl outside, audible even in here. Thunder rumbles.
“Imagine the looks on their faces,” Five comments from his spot at one of the weapons panels. “They’re probably shitting their pants.”
“Shut up,” Nine replies automatically.
The edge of my storm reaches the Anubis. At first, the clouds break across their force field, keeping the air within one hundred yards of their ship completely clear.
“Do we know if weather will breach their shields?” Sam asks.
“Let’s find out,” Adam says. “Pour it on, Six.”
In my mind, I take hold of a lightning bolt. Just a small one, a probe, and sling it against the Anubis’s force field. The streak of electricity bends, turned back by the Mogadorian technology.
“Doesn’t seem like it penetrated,” Rex reports, sounding anxious.
“No, it doesn’t matter,” I reply through gritted teeth. “We’re close enough now. I don’t need to break their force field. I can go around.”
I let the dark clouds and swells of fog coalesce around the Anubis, hiding us, blinding them beyond the range of their force field. Then, maintaining that, I start over. My left hand twirls above me, spinning the wind, building it up, creating pressure. This time, the storm gathers within their shields.
“The air . . . ,” I say. “The air belongs to me.”
The wind outside the Anubis screams, the pressure drops. The wind swirls into a vortex, its velocity as fast as I can make it, fast enough to uproot trees and tear off weapon arrays, so fast that I’m starting to get a little dizzy. The vortex splits, then splits again. Three small funnels on top of the dark metal hull of the warship, shearing away at its armor, knocking it out of its orderly hover. Three tornados to shove this bastard to the ground. I send in some rain as well, and, next to me, Marina presses her hands to the glass. She freezes the water as it lands on the Anubis, adding weight, hopefully jamming up important functions.
“It’s retreating!” Rex yells. “The Anubis is retreating!”
“That’s not a good thing,” Adam replies. “Six needs to be able to create weather inside their force field’s perimeter to knock down their systems.”