The Gender End (The Gender Game #7)

The king immediately let go of the wheel and turned around, scowling at me. Like a true coward, however, he turned and began yelling at his wardens rather than addressing me directly.

“How could you just let them get the drop on us? I’m your king! It’s your duty to keep me safe!”

Mark, Viggo’s former second in command, turned away and looked at us.

“We have this handled,” he stated flatly. “And the king needs his weapon if he’s going to survive in this place.”

He stooped over to pick it up, and Owen reached over the clearly dazed Peter to grab his arm. His face was filled with warning, eyes flashing with violence.

“Don’t do it.”

“What are you doing here, Mark?” Viggo asked, taking a step forward, his voice softer now, almost concerned. Mark shot him an angry look.

“The same thing you should be doing,” he retorted, pulling his arm out of Owen’s and taking a step back. “Following our king’s orders.”

“Mark…” Viggo said, trailing off, clearly at a loss for words.

Viggo, I’m in the system. Thomas’ voice only buzzed in our ears, and as one, we turned to look at him. Mark’s eyes flipped between us, unable to hear what we were saying but watching our attention move. Thomas continued to speak, his mouth moving but producing no sound, except in our earbuds. This is a really good system. Really good. Like… it shouldn’t even be in this antiquated terminal, sort of good.

Tell me something worth knowing, Thomas. I realized Viggo had turned his subvocalizer back on. Mark stared at him a moment, watching his mouth move, a scowl twisting his features.

“What are you doing?”

“None of your business,” I said. “Stay quiet until we decide what to do with you.” The man glared at me, but didn’t say anything else.

While Viggo and Thomas talked between themselves, I kept a close eye on Maxen and his group. Peter groaned loudly again, and Owen took a step back. Thomas continued to speak as if he hadn’t noticed the tension in the room.

Well, I’ve found an itemized species list, he said. The next room is a botanical one, attached through a long tunnel to something containing… He paused, looking at a list. Some sort of spider species, and centipedes.

I shuddered at the thought of centipedes, my skin already beginning to crawl from the feeling of a thousand phantom legs running over me. Panic almost swallowed me right there, the sensation was so real in my mind, but I managed to refrain from dropping my gun and batting at myself. I still had nightmares about getting bitten or being buried alive in dirt that turned into thousands of wriggling bodies.

Violet, Ms. Dale’s voice came through the subvocalizer, and I jerked my mind from the dark place it had gone. While Viggo is busy, let’s start tying the king’s group up. Make them go to the corner of the room—we can leave them here if we have to.

Following her cue, the rest of our group advanced on the king and his men, all our weapons trained on them. I spoke for our side, knowing that most of my companions’ subvocalizers were still on.

“All right, guys, you’re going to move to the corner of the room. We don’t want you to have to get hurt.”

Dammit, Thomas said, as the group of them begrudgingly began to shuffle toward the corner.

What is it? Ms. Dale demanded.

I can’t get control of their system, he replied. This system is flawless. Apparently there’s a master computer in one of these workstations located closer to the palace, and that’s the one we would have to use to take control. There’s nothing I can do about—

He stopped as the screen went dark. A second later, Elena’s smiling face filled it, and a pang of fear shot through my gut.

“Attention, intruders. Perhaps you felt as clever as a cat stalking a mouse in a cellar, confident of your dinner for the evening, but allow me to twist this little scenario for you and invite you to be the dinner.”

The screen turned off, and I heard the sound of all of the airlocks hissing, as the light on the inside began to flash yellow. The wheels began to turn without the aid of human hands, and I shoved my gun into my pocket, suddenly unable to worry about the king and his crew.

“Masks!” I shouted, and pulled my mask out from under my arm, fumbling with the straps but managing to get it on.

The moment our guns were no longer trained on them, the group of wardens scattered, picking up weapons and grabbing gas masks from where they had set them down. Mark scrambled forward, and before I could do a thing about it, he’d snatched up his gun and handed it to Maxen, helping the king pull his mask on before pulling his own on over his face.

“We have to run!” the king shouted through his mask, clearly in a panic, and for a bare moment I felt relief that they were clearly too worried about the escalating situation to be able to try to win back control of the room from us.

“No—Mark—stay here,” Viggo pleaded his former comrade, abandoning his argument with the other man. “We’re safer in numbers.”

“You don’t get a say,” Mark said frostily. “We are following the king. If you’d like to remember your duties and join us, by all means do so, but—”

“Line up at both doors and try to keep anything from getting through them!” Ms. Dale shouted, her voice ringing loud in our ears, interrupting Mark and pulling her rifle out while adjusting the strap over her shoulder. “No need for silence now.”

I slid my pistol into the holster and drew my rifle around my body, moving to a spot between the two doors so I could turn and fire easily. The outer set of doors hadn’t opened yet—the wheel was still spinning, slowly enough to let the fear within my gut blossom into terror that I held at bay with action.

I dropped down to a knee, and within seconds Mark and the other wardens were moving over to me, temporarily accepting our truce, taking up positions in front of the left door, while Tim, Amber, and Logan took up positions at the right. Maxen slipped around us until he was behind me, but as I turned, I saw Thomas pointing a gun at him, waving him back toward the line. He frowned, and then moved next to Mark. Viggo, Owen, and Ms. Dale stationed themselves at the other door, with Thomas lurking in between the three groups—all of us with pistols drawn.

The outer doors started to swing open, my eyes snapping to them, and I pulled the stock of the gun up to my shoulder, bracing myself. Viggo and the others did the same, and as the doors opened fully, mist curling out of them, I held my breath, waiting hopelessly for something—anything—to stop them.