The Fate of Ten

CHAPTER FIVE

“WE CAN DO THIS, BUT FIRST YOU NEED TO understand how Phiri Dun-Ra thinks,” Adam whispers.

“You are the expert on Mog psychology,” I reply, watching as Adam uses a broken branch to draw a square in the dirt. “Enlighten us.”

The three of us crouch next to our lifeless Skimmer on the dirt strip the Mogs were using as a runway. It’s dark now, but the Mogs had plenty of handheld electric lanterns on hand to illuminate their round-the-clock attempts to break into the Sanctuary. I guess Phiri didn’t have the foresight to steal all the batteries, so at least we’ve got light. There are also some huge floodlights positioned around the temple’s perimeter, but we’ve left those off. No need to make spying on us any easier for her.

The jungle around us seems louder now that the sun’s gone down, the chirping of tropical birds replaced by the shrill buzzing of billions of mosquitos. I slap the back of my neck as one of them tries to bite me.

“There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s out there right now, watching us,” Adam says. “Every Mog warrior of her class is trained in surveillance.”

“Yeah, we know,” I reply, glancing out into the darkness. “You guys have been stalking us all our lives, remember?”

Adam continues, ignoring me. “She’s probably capable of going at least three days with no sleep. And she won’t remain in one place, she’ll stay mobile. There won’t be a campsite to find or anything like that. If we go in there after her, she’ll move, stay ahead of us. She’s got a lot of jungle to hide in. That said, it’ll be her instinct to stay close. She’ll want to keep tabs on us.”

Marina frowns at Adam, watching as he draws some squiggly lines in the dirt around his square. I realize that he’s drawing Sanctuary and the surrounding jungle.

“So we have to draw her out,” Marina says.

“You know a good way to do that?” I ask Adam.

“We give her something no Mog can resist,” Adam replies, and he draws an “M” in the western part of the jungle. Then, he gives Marina a pointed look. “A vulnerable Garde.”

Immediately, I feel the air around us get a little colder. Marina leans forward, getting close to Adam, her eyes narrowed threateningly.

“Do I seem vulnerable to you, Adam?”

“Of course not. We just want you to appear that way.”

“A trap,” I say, trying to mediate. “Marina, chill out.”

Marina gives me a look, but I feel her icy aura dissipate.

“So,” Adam continues, “first, we split up.”

“Split up?” Marina repeats. “You’re kidding.”

“That’s always the worst idea,” I say.

“We can just go out there and hunt her down,” Marina says. “Six can make us invisible. She won’t have a chance.”

“That could take all night,” Adam says. “Maybe longer.”

“And it’s not exactly easy moving through a dark-ass jungle,” I remind Marina, thinking back to our journey through the Everglades.

“We split up because it’s a dumb move,” Adam explains. “We make it look like we’re trying to find her, like we’re trying to cover more ground. Phiri Dun-Ra will see it as an opportunity . . .”

Adam draws three lines moving away from the temple, fanning out into the jungle.

“Six, you’ll go east, I’ll go south and, Marina, you’ll go west.” Adam looks at me. “When you get two hundred paces into the jungle, Six, you turn invisible. She won’t be watching you at that point.”

“What makes you think she won’t attack me?” I ask. “I can be vulnerable.”

Marina snorts.

Adam shakes his head. “She’ll go after our healer first. I know it.”

“Because it’s what you would do?” Marina asks.

Adam meets her eyes. “Yeah.”

Marina and I exchange a look. At least Adam’s being straight up about how he’d hunt us down. I’m glad he’s on our side.

“I guess it makes sense,” Marina says, examining the drawings in the dirt. Suddenly, she looks back up at Adam. “Wait. You’re saying the Mogs know I’m a healer?”

“Of course,” he replies. “Any Legacies they’ve observed in the field have become part of your dossiers. And all Mogs study those. It’s like their second-favorite leisure activity after the Great Book.”

“Fun,” I say.

Marina considers this. “They wouldn’t know about my night vision. It’s not something they could observe.”

Adam looks up from his battle plan. “You have night vision?”

Marina nods. “If you’re right and Phiri does attack me, I might actually see her coming first.”

“Huh,” Adam replies. “Well, that’s a bonus.”

“So what do I do after I turn invisible?” I ask.

“You find me, we go invisible, and then we double back and follow Marina. Back her up for when Phiri Dun-Ra attacks.”

“And if she attacks me before you guys get there?” Marina asks.

Adam smirks. “I guess try not to kill her until you’ve gotten back the conduits.”

“Do you think she’s going to just hand them over?” Marina asks, cocking her head at Adam.

“Hopefully, she’s carrying them on her,” he replies.

“And if she’s not?”

“I . . .” Adam looks from Marina to me, trying to gauge our reactions. “There are ways to make people talk. Even Mogadorians.”

“We don’t torture,” Marina says emphatically. Even after everything she’s been through, even after losing Eight—she’s still the moral compass. She looks over at me for support. “Right, Six?”

“We’ll figure it out,” I reply, not wanting to take a position at the moment. “First things first. Let’s get the bitch.”

The three of us make a big show of separating, each of us carrying one of the electric lanterns into the forbidding jungle. As I duck through the thick vines and clawlike branches in the dense brush, I focus my hearing as much as possible. I’m hoping maybe I’ll stumble upon Phiri, shorten this whole plan Adam hatched, but no such luck. I’m only successful in amplifying the ceaseless sounds of the jungle. On my left, something dark and furry shrieks out a warning as I move through its territory. There’s so much movement and noise out here—Adam was right, it’d be next to impossible to track Phiri Dun-Ra.

I push aside a branch with more force than necessary. It snaps back and slaps my shoulder. I grit my teeth and wonder if I could just call a hurricane down on this whole stupid jungle and pick up Phiri Dun-Ra.

One Mog. We’re out here chasing one stupid Mog. This must be exactly what Phiri Dun-Ra wanted, to take us out of the game while who the hell knows what happens back in New York. A full-scale invasion could be under way. I imagine John and Nine trying to fight off hordes of Mogadorians, Sam running for his life, the entire world engulfed in flames.

Yeah. We need to hurry this up.

Before splitting up and heading into the jungle, we turned on the large halogen work lights around the Sanctuary’s perimeter so we’d be able to find our way back. Once I’ve gone far enough that I can barely see the lights through the trees, I turn invisible. Just in case Phiri Dun-Ra is watching me instead of Marina, I use my telekinesis to float my lantern ahead of me. I wait a few seconds to see if any shadowy forms detach from the surrounding jungle to pursue my ghostly lantern and, when none do, I hook the lantern to a low-hanging branch and leave it behind.

I’m comfortable with my own invisibility, having developed a good sense of spatial awareness after years of practice. Still, it isn’t easy navigating without my light. At least I’ve got some experience from back in Florida. I take it slow, glancing often at muddy ground in front of me, ducking low to go under branches. At one point, I have to carefully step over a striped rattlesnake, the thing not even shifting as I pass by.

Before long, I spot Adam’s lantern bobbing through the jungle. He’s moving purposely slow, waiting for me to catch up to him. He doesn’t hear me coming. When I slip my hand into his, in the moment before I turn him invisible, I hear his breath catch and shoulders tense.

“Scare you?” I whisper to him. I pluck the lantern out of his other hand with my telekinesis, going through the same routine that I did with my own.

“Surprised me, that’s all,” he replies quietly. “Let’s go.”

We start picking our way through the jungle towards where Marina should be. I’m careful not to go too fast at first, but Adam has good balance and seems to be keeping up just fine. His hand is surprisingly cool and dry despite the humid jungle air—he’s steady, this whole situation isn’t weird to him at all. I can’t help but breathe out a little laugh.

“What?” he asks me, his voice a whisper in the darkness.

“Just never imagined reaching a point in my life where I’d be holding hands with a Mogadorian,” I reply.

“We’re allies,” Adam responds. “It’s for the mission.”

“Yeah, thanks for clearing that up. Still, it isn’t weird for you?”

Adam pauses. “Not really.”

Adam doesn’t say anything more. I remember something he said back on the flight to the Sanctuary.

“Who do I remind you of?” I ask him as we carefully climb over a fallen log.

“What?”

“Back in the Skimmer, you said I reminded you of someone.”

“You want to talk about that now?” he whispers back.

“I’m curious,” I reply, keeping an eye out for the telltale glow of Marina’s lantern. We don’t see it yet.

Adam is quiet for long enough that I start to think he’s just done talking, like his silence is a reprimand for not staying on mission. I’m about to tell him that I can successfully track one Mogadorian while also carrying on small talk, thank you very much, when he finally answers me.

“Number One,” he says. “That’s who you remind me of.”

“One? The Garde you took your Legacies from?”

His hand tenses up in mine, like he has to stop himself from yanking away.

“She gave her Legacy to me,” Adam snaps. “I didn’t take anything.”

“All right,” I reply. “Sorry. Poor choice of words. I didn’t realize that you actually got to know her.”

“We had a . . . complex relationship.”

“Like, you were in charge of the Mogs stalking her or something?”

Adam sighs. “No. After she was killed, One’s consciousness was implanted in my brain alongside my own. For a while, basically, we shared a body. I guess that’s why I’m not concerned with holding hands or whatever juvenile thing has been making you uncomfortable for the last five minutes. I’ve been really, really close to Garde before.”

Now it’s my turn to fall silent. I never even met Number One. She remains a complete mystery to me, more like a concept. The unlucky one. First up to bat. The first one to get killed. And yet Adam has all this intimate knowledge of her. It’s weird to think that a Mogadorian has given more thought to Number One than I ever did. Not just that, but it sounds like he actually cared about her. Our world just gets stranger and stranger.

“There she is,” I whisper, sparing us any further awkward conversation as Marina’s lantern comes into view.

“Good,” Adam says, sounding relieved. “Now we follow along and wait for Phiri Dun-Ra to take the bai—”

Adam’s interrupted by cobalt-blue blaster fire sizzling through the air, aimed right for Marina’s lantern. Even with all the jungle noise, I can hear Marina scream.

“Shit! Go!”

I release Adam’s hand and sprint through the jungle, using my telekinesis to shove aside the tangled branches and dense blockades of leaves. I’m sure I pick up a few scratches along the way, but that doesn’t matter. The creature sounds around me become loud with panic as I trample through their territories. I’m distantly aware of Adam running behind me, taking advantage of the path I’m clearing.

Up ahead, I can tell that Marina’s lantern has fallen to the ground by the way it throws crooked beams of light through the twisted tree limbs.

Running full throttle, it takes me less than a minute to knife my way through the jungle. I burst into the small clearing where Marina’s lantern is on the ground, just in time to see Marina running her hand over a blaster burn on her upper arm. She glances up at me as she heals the blistered flesh.

“Plan worked,” Marina says casually.

“You’re hurt,” I reply.

“This? Lucky shot.”

I breathe a sigh of relief, then look to Marina’s left where Phiri Dun-Ra glares at us from her knees. There’s a fresh trail of blood dripping through her mess of Mog tattoos and severely pulled-back braids, probably from where Marina clocked her. Phiri’s blaster is in the dirt next to her, out of reach and crumpled beyond use by a telekinetic attack. Her hands and ankles are bound in what I quickly realize to be shackles made from solid ice. Looks like Marina’s getting pretty good with her new Legacy.

Adam arrives in the clearing a few seconds after me. Phiri Dun-Ra’s look of hatred only intensifies when he shows up.

“You got her,” Adam says, and Marina nods, even smiles a little. “You’re all right?”

“I’m good,” Marina replies. “Now what should we do with her?”

“You should kill me,” Phiri Dun-Ra growls, spitting into the dirt in front of her. “The sight of a trueborn consorting with you Loric trash so offends my eyes, I no longer wish to live.”

“Hello to you too, Phiri,” Adam says, rolling his eyes. “What did you do to my Chimæra?”

Phiri Dun-Ra’s eyes light up. “A little trick I learned from the Plum Island scientists with blaster frequencies. Did your pet die? I didn’t have time to check its body.”

“He survived. Unlike you.”

“We aren’t going to kill you—,” I start to say, but Phiri thrashes in the dirt, interrupting me.

“Because you’re cowards,” she hisses. “Do you want to rehabilitate me like this one? Make me into another Mogadorian pet? It won’t happen.”

“You didn’t let me finish,” I say, stepping closer to her. “We’re not going to kill you yet.”

“Did you search her?” Adam asks Marina.

“She was only carrying the blaster,” Marina replies. The rest of Phiri’s outfit is the standard sleek body armor of a Mog warrior. There’s no room to hide a bunch of ship parts.

“Where are the conduits?” I ask her. “Give them back and I’ll at least make your death quick.”

Marina shoots me a quick look, her eyebrows upraised. I put off answering these questions before—what do we do with a captured Mogadorian and how far do we go to get what we need? Torture. The thought gives me a chill of revulsion, especially thinking back to my time spent being one of their captives. It feels like crossing a line, like something they would do to us. It’s different from killing them in battle, when they’re fighting back and trying to kill us too. Phiri Dun-Ra is helpless, our prisoner. But one Mog prisoner is useless and we need to get the hell out of this jungle. I know we shouldn’t sink to their level, but our situation is desperate. How far will threats take us? I wonder.

“Die a slow death, Loric scum,” Phiri spits back at me.

So, she isn’t going to make this easy.

Before I can decide what to do, Adam darts past me and strikes Phiri across the face with the back of his hand. She cries out and topples over onto her side. Phiri is stunned, I realize. She wasn’t expecting the blow. Maybe she was banking on the fact that Marina and I wouldn’t have the stomach for torture. Adam, on the other hand . . .

“You forget who you’re dealing with, Phiri Dun-Ra,” Adam says through clenched teeth. He slides onto his knees in the dirt next to her and grabs her by the front of her shirt, yanking her partially upright. “Do you think because I’ve spent time with the Garde that I’ve forgotten our ways? You know who my father was. Much to his disappointment, my marks were always highest in the non-combat-related subjects. But still . . . the General found ways to focus my training. Interrogation. Anatomy. Imagine how rigorously the General trained his heir. I remember well.”

Adam reaches one of his hands around Phiri’s head, digging his thumb into the space behind her ear. She screams out, her legs thrashing. Marina takes a step towards the two Mogs, giving me another look. I swallow hard and shake my head, stopping her.

I’m going to let this play out. Wherever it leads.

“I might not share your ideology, Phiri Dun-Ra,” Adam says, raising his voice to be heard over her screaming, “but I do share your biology. I know where your nerves are, where to hurt you best. I will spend the rest of the night picking you apart until you beg for disintegration.”

Adam releases his grip on Phiri, letting her fall back into the dirt. She’s panting, struggling to get in a deep breath.

“Or you can tell us where you hid the conduits,” Adam says calmly. “Now.”

“I’ll never—” Phiri is cut off, flinching as Adam stands up. He’s suddenly lost interest in her.

He saw the same thing I did. The way Phiri Dun-Ra’s eyes flicked towards a moss-covered log at the edge of the clearing. Adam walks over to the log while she squirms around in the dirt, trying to keep her eyes on him. On closer inspection, the log is rotten, hollowed out by termites. Adam plunges his hand inside and tugs out a small duffel bag. Phiri must have shoved the bag in there before attacking Marina.

“Aha,” he says, giving the bag a good shake. Inside, metal parts clang together. “Thanks for your help.”

Marina and I exchange a relieved look, even as Phiri screeches out her latest taunt.

“It doesn’t matter, traitor,” she says. “Nothing you do matters anymore!”

That gets my attention. I give Phiri a not-so-gentle kick in the back to make her roll over and look at me.

“What does that mean?” I ask her. “What’re you saying?”

“War came and went,” Phiri replies, laughing at me. “Earth is already ours.”

My stomach drops at the thought, but I don’t let it show. We have to get out of Mexico and see for ourselves.

“Are the parts intact?” I ask Adam.

“She’s lying to you, Six. It’s what she does,” he reassures me, maybe detecting a tremor of nervousness in my voice. He tosses down the duffel bag and crouches over it.

“What should we do with her?” Marina asks me. She focuses on Phiri Dun-Ra for a second, reinforcing the ice shackles that have begun to melt.

I’m considering my answer when Adam grunts, yanking on the zipper that appears to be stuck on something. When the zipper comes loose, something inside the duffel bag clicks, like a timer being armed.

“Watch out!” Adam screams as he shoves the bag away from him. Everything happens so fast. I see the ground rise up in front of the duffel bag and realize that Adam is using his seismic Legacy to try shielding us. With an orange flash of light and a loud pop, the bomb inside the bag detonates right in front of him. Chunks of dirt and deadly shrapnel fly through the clearing. I’m thrown to the ground from the concussion blast. I can feel fresh pain in my leg—a jagged piece of metal, probably ship parts, is lodged in my thigh.

Above the ringing in my ears, I can hear Phiri laughing hysterically.