The Fate of Ten

CHAPTER TEN

“HOW’S IT GOING?”

Adam jumps when I put my hand on his shoulder and lean in to check on his progress. He hunches over a workbench where the Mogs tweaked their weapons before pointless attempts to bring down the Sanctuary’s force field. Adam has swept all the Mog crap that was cluttering the bench onto the ground and replaced it with an assortment of mechanical parts. The mismatched pieces come from the disabled Skimmers collecting dust on the airstrip, some from within the guts of the engines, others from behind the touch-screen dashboards. Among the ship parts are other odds and ends—the battery from one of the halogen lamps, a broken-down Mog blaster and the casing of a laptop. All these things have been bent, warped or hammered by Adam as he tries to replace our ship’s destroyed conduit using spare parts.

“How does it look like it’s going?” he replies, glumly setting down the blowtorch he was about to ignite. “I’m not an engineer, Six. This is strictly trial and error. So far, one hundred percent error.”

The sun is only now climbing above the jungle’s tree line to scorch the landing strip, no reprieve from the sticky heat out here. Adam has already sweated through his shirt, the pale skin on the back of his neck turning pinkish. I leave my hand on his shoulder until he sighs and turns to face me. His dark eyes are bleary and a little wild, gray circles forming around them.

“You didn’t sleep,” I say, knowing this for a fact. He worked through the entire night, his hammering and cursing often interrupting the fitful hours of rest I managed while curled up in the Skimmer’s cockpit. The only breaks he took were to check on Dust, whose paralyzed condition hadn’t changed. “Maybe I’m not up on my Mogadorian biology, but I was pretty sure you guys needed to do that.”

Adam brushes some hair out of his eyes, trying to focus on me. “Yeah, Six, we sleep. When it’s convenient.”

“You’re going to push yourself to exhaustion and then what’ll you be good for?” I ask.

Adam frowns at me. “Same thing I’m good for now,” he says, glancing at the collection of trashed parts in front of him. “I hear you, Six. I’m fine. Let me keep working.”

In truth, I’m glad Adam is so devoted to his work. As much as I don’t want to see him hurt himself, we desperately need to get out of Mexico. There’s still no word from John. I’m afraid we’re missing the war.

“At least eat,” I tell him, yanking a light green banana off the bunch I just picked from a nearby tree and shoving it into Adam’s hand.

He considers the banana for a moment. I can actually hear Adam’s stomach growl as he begins to peel it. Food wasn’t something we thought to pack—we didn’t know what to expect when we came to the Sanctuary, but we definitely weren’t planning to get stranded. We didn’t bring the necessary supplies for an extended stay.

“You know, Nine had these stones in his Chest that, if you sucked on them, they’d give you all the nutrients of a meal,” I tell Adam, peeling my own banana. “Kinda gross, especially after you thought about where they’d been and how many times Nine probably reused them. But right now, I really wish we hadn’t tossed them down that well in the Sanctuary.”

Adam smirks, glancing over at the temple. “Maybe you should go back in and ask real nice. I’m sure that energy-thing doesn’t want Nine’s spit-stones.”

“Maybe I should ask it for a new engine while I’m at it.”

“Couldn’t hurt,” Adam replies, and swallows the rest of his banana in a hurry. “I’m going to get us out of here, Six. Don’t worry.”

I leave a second banana on the table and let Adam get back to work. I cut across the airstrip, heading to where Marina sits cross-legged in the grass, facing the Sanctuary. I’m not sure if she’s meditating or praying or what, but she was in that spot when I woke up this morning and hasn’t moved in the time that I’ve been out scrounging the jungle for food.

I’d like to think it’s an accident that my route to Marina takes me by the Skimmer strut where Phiri Dun-Ra is tied, but I know it’s not. We’ve got her tied up securely in the middle of camp and have all been keeping an eye on her. I want the Mogadorian to say something, to give me an excuse. She doesn’t disappoint.

“He’s going to fail, you know.”

“Did you say something?” I ask, stopping and turning slowly to face her. I heard Phiri Dun-Ra perfectly.

Our Mogadorian prisoner smiles gruesomely at me, her teeth outlined with dried blood. Her right eye is swollen shut. I did that to her last night. After learning about the Mogadorian invasion, I got real tired real quick of her incessant cackling. So, I clocked her. Not my proudest moment, punching out a tied-up Mogadorian, but it felt good. In truth, I probably would’ve done more if Marina hadn’t dragged me away. As I stare at Phiri Dun-Ra, her good eye narrows in amusement. My fist clenches again. I want to hit something. All I need is a reason.

“You heard me, little girl,” she replies, jerking her chin towards Adam. Phiri Dun-Ra projects her voice enough that I’m sure he can hear, too. “Adamus Sutekh will fail, as he always does. You see, I have known him much longer than you. I know what a perpetual disappointment he was to his father. To our people. It’s no wonder he turned traitor.”

I glance over my shoulder at Adam. He’s pretending not to hear Phiri Dun-Ra, but his hands have stopped working and his shoulders are bunched up.

“You want to get knocked out again?” I ask Phiri Dun-Ra, taking a step towards her.

She looks thoughtful for a moment, then continues on. “Although, hmm . . . something only now occurs to me. I remember hearing of young Adamus’s technical prowess. He was something of a prodigy with machines as a young trueborn. It is odd, then, that he’s been unable to fix one of these ships, especially with all that equipment at his disposal.”

I glance again at Adam. He’s turned now, a confused expression on his face, staring at Phiri Dun-Ra.

“I wonder if he is stalling on purpose,” Phiri Dun-Ra muses. “Perhaps, now that Mogadorian Progress has proven inevitable, he thinks keeping you here will earn him favor with our Beloved Leader, so that he might come crawling back to his real people . . . Or perhaps he is simply too much of a coward to face the losing battles to come.”

Adam is past me in a blur. He crouches down in front of Phiri Dun-Ra and yanks her head back. She tries to bite him, but Adam is too quick.

“Death is coming for you, Adamus Sutekh! For all of you!” she manages to shriek, before Adam shoves a rag into her mouth. Next, he tears loose a piece of duct tape and slaps it across Phiri Dun-Ra’s face. Her breath now comes in furious and forceful bursts from her nose, the Mogadorian glaring venomously at Adam. Over on the grass in front of the Sanctuary, Marina has stood up to watch this scene play out, a small frown on her face.

Adam stands over Phiri Dun-Ra, his teeth bared, dark lines creasing his face. It’s a murderous look, one I’ve seen on the face of many Mogadorians, usually right before they tried to kill me.

“Adam . . . ,” I say warningly.

Adam whips around to face me, trying to get control of himself. He takes a deep breath.

“Everything she said is a lie, Six,” he says. “Everything.”

“I know that,” I reply. “We should’ve gagged her sooner.”

Adam grunts and returns to his workbench, his eyes downcast as he walks by me. Phiri Dun-Ra definitely knows how to get a rise out of him. Out of all of us, really. Well, except for Marina. I know she’s trying to drive a wedge between our group, but it isn’t going to work. How stupid does she think I am? I’ll always take the word of a Mogadorian that was allowed to walk through the Sanctuary’s force field over one that tried to blow us up with a grenade.

With the skirmish over, Marina sits back down in the grass before the Sanctuary. I join her, watching brightly colored birds fly playful loops around the ancient temple.

“Would you have stopped him if he tried to kill her?” Marina asks me, after a moment.

I shrug. “She’s a Mogadorian,” I reply. “One of the shittiest ones I’ve ever met, too. And that’s saying something.”

“In the heat of battle is one thing,” Marina says. “But when she is tied up . . . she is not like the warriors we’ve faced so many times. She’s like Adam, a trueborn. When I used my healing on him, prevented him from disintegrating, I could . . . I could feel the life there, not so different from ours. I fear what we might become as this war goes on.”

Maybe I’m overtired, and I’m definitely beyond stressed with our current situation, but Marina’s moral-compass thing is beginning to wear thin. When I reply, there’s more harshness in my voice than I’d like.

“So what? You’re a pacifist now? A few days ago, you stabbed out Five’s eye with an icicle,” I remind her. “He’s a lot more like us than Phiri Dun-Ra is, and they both have bad shit coming to them.”

“Yes, I did that,” Marina replies, running her hand over the sharp tips of the grass. “I regret it. Or, actually, I regret how little regret I feel. Do you see what I mean, Six? We have to be careful not to turn into them.”

“Five deserved it,” I reply, softening my voice a little.

“Maybe,” Marina admits, and finally looks at me. “I wonder what will be left of us when this is over, Six. What we will be like.”

“If there’s anything left of us,” I reply. “Big if, at this point.”

Marina smiles sadly. She turns her gaze back to the Sanctuary. “I went inside the temple early this morning, before the sun was up,” she says. “I went back to the well, to where the Loric energy came from.”

I study Marina. While I was sleeping, she was climbing down those twisting stairs back into the Sanctuary’s underground chamber. The stone well where the Entity erupted from, the glowing maps of the universe on the walls. I wish we’d gotten more answers from that place.

“Find anything useful?”

She shrugs. “It’s still there. The Entity. I can feel it, spreading out from within the Sanctuary, although I don’t know for what purpose. I can still see the glow, deep down in the well. But . . .”

“You were hoping for some advice?”

Marina nods, chuckling softly. “I’d hoped it might guide us. Tell us what we should do next.”

I’m not surprised that the Entity living inside the Sanctuary, apparently the source of our power, didn’t poke its head out for another visit with Marina. When we first encountered the Entity, it seemed almost amused with us—happy to be awoken, sure, but in no rush to help us win the war against the Mogadorians. I remember something it said during our conversation; that it bestows its gifts on a species, it doesn’t judge or take sides, not even in its own defense. I think we’ve already gotten as much help from the Entity as we’re going to get. I keep this thought to myself, not wanting to discourage Marina or shake her faith, which seems to be mostly keeping her together, even if it does lead her to some morbid ethical questions that I frankly don’t feel like thinking about.

“I’ve been sitting out here praying on our situation,” Marina continues. “I suppose it’s silly to hope for some kind of sign. I don’t know what else to do with myself, though.”

Before I can respond, a shrill buzzing sounds from behind us. At first, I think it’s only Adam’s latest attempt to create a new conduit. The noise is too close. It’s coming from practically right on top of us. Marina’s grinning at me, her eyes wide and excited. My heart starts to beat harder as I realize what’s happening. Maybe Marina’s prayers actually worked.

“Six? Aren’t you going to answer it?”

The thing’s been annoyingly silent for so long, I’d forgotten what the ringer on the satellite phone sounds like. I jump up, yanking the phone out of the back of my pants. Marina stands with me, leaning her head in close to listen, and Adam jogs over to join us. I can feel Phiri Dun-Ra watching us, but I ignore her.

“John?”

There’s a burst of static as the satellite phone establishes a connection, a familiar voice coming through between squeals of interference.

“Six? It’s Sam!”

A wide smile spreads across my face. I can hear the relief in Sam’s voice that I answered.

“Sam!” My own voice breaks a little. I hope he doesn’t hear it over our crackly connection. Actually, I don’t care. Marina grabs my arm, grinning wider. “You’re okay?” I ask Sam, the words coming out half question and half exclamation.

“I’m okay!” he shouts.

“And John?”

“John, too. We’re at a military encampment in Brooklyn. They loaned us a pair of satellite phones and John’s talking to Sarah on the other one.”

I snort and can’t help rolling my eyes a little. “Of course he is.”

“Where are you guys? Is everyone all right?” Sam asks. “Things have gotten nuts.”

“Everyone’s fine, but—”

Before I can tell Sam about our predicament, he interrupts. “Did anything happen down there, Six? While you were at the Sanctuary? Like, for instance, did you push a button for Legacies or something?”

“There weren’t any buttons,” I say, exchanging a look with Marina. “We met, I don’t know—”

“Lorien itself,” Marina says.

“We met an Entity,” I tell Sam. “It said some cryptic stuff, thanked us for waking it up and then, um . . .”

“Spread out into the Earth,” Marina finishes for me.

“Oh, hi, Marina,” Sam says distractedly. “Listen, I think this Entity of yours might have, uh, spread out into me.”

“What the hell does that mean, Sam?”

“I’ve got Legacies,” Sam replies. There’s such a strong mixture of excitement and pride in his voice that it’s impossible for me not to imagine Sam puffing out his chest a bit, looking like he did right after we kissed for the first time. “Well, just telekinesis. That’s always the first one, isn’t it?”

“You’ve got Legacies?” I exclaim, looking wide-eyed at the others. Marina’s hand tightens on my arm, and she turns to look at the Sanctuary. Meanwhile, Adam’s expression turns thoughtful as he looks down at his own hands, maybe wondering what this development says about his own Legacies.

“And I’m not the only one,” Sam continues. “We met another girl in New York by chance who had gotten powers, too. Who knows how many new Garde are out there?”

I shake my head, trying to digest all this information. I find myself staring at the Sanctuary too, thinking about the Entity hidden within.

“It worked,” I say quietly. “It actually worked.”

Marina faces me, tears in her eyes. “We’re home, Six,” she says. “We’ve brought Lorien here. We’ve changed the world.”

It all sounds great, but I’m not ready to celebrate just yet. We’re still stranded in Mexico. The war isn’t suddenly over.

“That Entity didn’t give you a list of new Garde, did it?” Sam asks. “Some way for us to find them?”

“No list,” I reply. “I can’t say for sure, but judging by my conversation with the Entity, it all seems pretty random. What’s happening there?” I ask Sam, steering the conversation towards the battles we’ve been missing. “We heard about the attack on New York . . .”

“It’s bad, Six,” Sam says, grimness creeping into his voice. “Manhattan is, like, on fire. We don’t know where Nine is; he’s still out there somewhere. Where are you guys? We could really use your help.”

I realize that I never finished telling Sam about our current situation. “There were Mogs guarding the Sanctuary,” I tell him. “We got all of them but one. While we were inside the temple, she wrecked all the ships. We’re stuck here. You think you could get your new friends in the military to send a jet? We need to be picked up.”

“Wait, you’re still in Mexico? At the Sanctuary?”

I don’t like the fear in Sam’s voice. Something’s not right.

“What’s wrong, Sam?”

“You need to get out of there,” Sam says. “Setrákus Ra and his big-ass warship are heading right for you.”