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to the panel, and he patched in 2-4-6-8 and W-D-W-A in quick succession. Slade reached for him as the door opened.

“Get some clothes on, Slade,” said Jaxx as he ran out the door and down the corridor. Perhaps that would slow the man down and prompt him to toss on his fatigues. Most likely not.

Bare feet padded against the floor and echoed in the corridor. Slade was on his way. Jaxx pivoted at an intersection and went left. Slade may be in shape, but he wasn’t fast and Jaxx outpaced him. He hurried down another corridor and another until he reached the main elevator shafts.

A man exited an elevator, a towel around his waist, hair messed up and wet. With a pot belly, the guy slapped his stomach and yawned. He raised an eyebrow in a hello to Jaxx, and Jaxx dipped his head in kind.

The elevator doors closed after Jaxx stepped inside. He ran his hand to level four where Martelle’s office was located. He’d leave the guy a note, hide under his desk, he didn’t know. He had to get the information to Martelle in some way, shape, or form to get the president to turn this ship around.

The elevator descended, and a ding. Jaxx exited the elevator and ran down the corridor. He skid to a halt at the presidential office. Two large potted cactus plants bordered the door.

He rapped his knuckles on the top of his head. “No, no. Dammit.” He never asked Shaughnessy for Martelle’s office password or his suite’s. And like a dummy, he spent his time on Slade’s Lectern not looking for what he went in there for; the passcode to the bridge.

Each panel to a room had a doorbell of sorts. He pressed it. A buzz from the panel and he went rigid. He looked left and right down the corridor. At this hour, most people slept so the area was empty. From what he knew about President Martelle, the guy rarely slept, and if he did, like many go-getters, sleep didn’t account for much. This was part of his presidential campaign. The average person needed eight hours. Action oriented people who got shit done, more like five hours, sometimes less.

He held his breath. No answer. His heart beat fast and he balled up his fist. He tapped the doorbell again. Another buzz.

“I see you out there, Jaxx.” Martelle’s voice blared through the panel.

“Mr. President?”

“Why the hell are you waking me at this hour?”

Waking him? He slept in his office? Maybe his wife kicked him out for the night.

Jaxx motioned to the door. “Can I come in, sir?”

“Sure, no problem.” The door opened. The lights were off. At the back of the office stood a large window pane, not something Jaxx saw much on this starship. Mostly port holes for windows lined the corridors and if one was lucky, one or two port windows accompanied a person’s room.

The stars glittered behind the thick glass and Mars lit up the office with a gold hue, though the glow was dim.

Jaxx went to take a step inside then hesitated. “Are you in your office, Mr. President?”

“Does it look like I’m in there?”

“No.”

“We always knew your observation skills were top notch.” A pause. “We’ve been looking for you. We catch glimpses of you on the security cams, but they tend to glitch out when you’re near.”

That would have been a good piece of information to know. It would have saved Jaxx an extra ounce of stress. But Jaxx shrugged. “Sir, I have important information for you.”

“Oh? You’ve been studying the pyramids a bit?” There was hope in Martelle’s voice mixed with a tinge of excitement.

He couldn’t shoot the shit with him, so he’d give it to the president at point blank range. “I have evidence that Colonel Slade Roberson is planning an attack on the civilization living on Callisto.”

“There’s not a civilization currently living there.”

“It’s apparent there is, Sir.”

“Where’s the evidence?”

Jaxx put his hand on the wall and leaned. “They blew up an SSP Star Carrier. I saw it with my own eyes.”

Martelle huffed. “How do you know this?”

Jaxx’s stomach contracted. He’d have to spill the beans. “I saw it on Slade’s Lectern.”

“Slade didn’t inform me he’d sat you through the recording.”

Jaxx blinked a few times. “Hold on. You know about the Star Carrier?”

“I do and I don’t. Slade informed me.”

“But it’s worse than we know, Mr. President. I have seen documents on his Lectern. He won’t be heading back for a single soul on Earth.”

“That son of a bitch. What’s going on? Are you and Slade in on something together that I’m not privy to?”

He scrunched up his brow. “I’m not following, Sir.”

“How in God’s name do you know about Slade’s plans?”

“He’s aligning with the Kelhoons and the SSP to invade Callisto. And there’s something about a slave trade.”

“Yes.”

“You don’t sound surprised.”

“The only surprise I have is that Slade intimately involved you with this information. And without my knowledge.”

“You know about this?”

“Yes.”

“Everything?” If the president had full knowledge, then he knew about the invasion.

“Jaxx, listen to me very carefully. In my eyes, you’re our most important asset. You’ll bring light and power from the pyramids to our new civilization, but don’t for one second think Slade has any charge over me. When I say we’re going to pick up those in the United States that we left behind, I mean it. And it will get done.”

“But the invasion?”

“I’ll handle that.”

“How will you handle it?”

Another pause. “Don’t worry.”

“You’re not going to stop the invasion, are you?”

“Stay there, Jaxx.”

Boots clacked down the corridor.

“Who’s coming?”

“Don’t be alarmed, but we’ve been looking for you for a while now. Stay there. Our troopers will escort you to your room.”

“I can get there by myself. Thank you, Mr. President.”

“I’d suggest to keep your feet planted firmly on the ground, Jaxx. I don’t want any more issues with you.”

“I’ll be fine, Sir. Heading to my room now.”

“Don’t you move, Jaxx.”

Slade wanted him dead, no doubt. And Martelle either wanted the same

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