Fireteam Delta J. Halpin (top 10 books of all time TXT) 📖

Cortez put an arm around a dour-looking Orvar, who nodded as well.

Summers took a breath to steady his nerves. They were coming up to the finish line now. And while they were all tired, at least they were together.

It was his fault Nowak and Cortez had been stranded in this world. Now, he'd at least be able to repay that debt. As for the others . . .

Nothing he did could fix what was coming. But they’d get out of this with their lives.

Synel moved up beside Summers.

“So, this stock market you were telling me about . . .”

He flashed her a smile. Some might adapt a little faster than others.

“Don’t understand a bit of it, if I’m being honest. But if anyone can figure it out—”

Summers stopped as the hall opened up to a cavernous room. The entire group slowed as the thing inside came into sight.

A black sphere almost as large as the room was tall, took up the bulk of the space, its surface rippling like water. As Summers watched, a series of dark tendrils broke the surface, three branching fingers forming from their ends before receding back into the mass.

“Going to guess that that’s our Anchor,” Cortez said after a moment.

Summers could only stare. There was something about it . . .

“Home.”

He caught himself taking an involuntary step forward, his mind immediately going on high alert. Whatever that thing was doing, it was calling to him. And he was not stupid enough to answer.

“You okay there?”

Summers found Cortez staring at him, worried.

“Yeah. Just a little . . . off.” Summers looked at the Anchor, doing his best to suppress his urge to approach it.

The rest of the room was filled with soldiers, all in full gear, each staring at the entrance they were occupying.

Summers realized only a second later that they weren’t looking at him. Behind them, he found the thin man, Wendel, with more than a few guards in tow.

The fact that he was walking on his own two feet, with two fully functional hands, was telling in and of itself. He also seemed slightly taller.

He gave Summers a wide smile.

“Well, this just keeps getting better and better.”

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Summers stood at the thin man’s side, ready to move if he so much as twitched funny.

So far, all he’d done was stare up at the Anchor. There was a group of people beside it, double-checking the various systems Summers was sure he wouldn’t understand.

He did, however, recognize the explosives strapped to the various “normal” components—those that looked to have been obviously added by the army.

Meanwhile, every other soldier had their hands on their weapons, their eyes fixed directly on them.

The thin man didn’t seem to care.

“We’re still willing to reach an agreement, you know. It’s not as though we hold a grudge. Our death would merely be an . . . inconvenience. If you wanted to remain here, we would be more than happy to oblige. You have an interesting resourcefulness to you. With the proper education . . .”

“And help you murder innocent people?”

“A means to an end. That’s all it’s ever been.” He looked at the injured men on the far side of the room.

They were being led in a few at a time. Hopefully, it was a sign they’d be leaving soon. As Summers watched the man’s face, he could see something like recognition, or remorse. Maybe there was still some part of Wendel in there. Or maybe he wasn’t a complete bastard.

Either way, the less he had to do with the man, the better. He was essentially responsible for everything that had happened during his time in this world—including those they’d lost. Talking with him, that would just make what was coming harder.

Unfortunately, the other man didn’t seem to share that sentiment.

“We’re far more familiar with you than you know, and far more alike. We both want to protect our people, after all. Can’t imagine how many you’ve killed before coming here. As for this world, you’ll find our methods far more merciful than our colleagues’ . . .”

Summers glanced over to his friends in the distance.

“I’ve seen what you did to this world.” Summers stared right back at him. “You really think you’re going to justify that?”

“Justify? Do you not understand the danger your people face?”

And that just pissed Summers off.

“Whatever the fuck you have planned—”

“Oh, for the God’s sake, not us.” He paused. “This world, imagine it’s similar to your own, isn’t it? Rough around the edges, maybe, but let us assure you, our planet is the same. Our bodies. Our minds. We are, all of us, human.”

“Is that supposed to make it better?”

“We’ve told you that life in this galaxy is rare. Human life, even less so. There’s a purpose for all of this. Our world’s survival is paramount.”

“And the rest of these people don’t mean jack shit.”

“Those who are left will be led into a golden age, with our brightest minds to guide them. And in the face of what’s coming . . .” He hesitated. “The Anchors were our last resort. Cobbled together, really. We had weapons that could shatter planets, wonders you couldn’t imagine. And we died. Have you considered what could have done that? Across every existence, the Earth remains mostly the same, so why would humans—life—be an exception?”

Summers thought about what he said. Truth be told, he’d never considered what could destroy a civilization that had created something like the hamr, let alone why they’d do it.

“You’re saying it’s being wiped out?”

“Very good!” The thin man’s smile broadened. “Your people have hope yet.”

There was something out there that had destroyed a people thousands of years ahead of their world, and they were still