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English?” Stacy asked reluctantly, as if she wanted to save the question for a later time but couldn’t help herself. “How are you able to speak our language?”

“I told you, young one, I’ve been watching you. I’ve been watching it all, even the communication between Tong and the light woman you call Iris. I learned as Tong learned,” the voice answered.

Stacy and I exchanged looks. I knew I shouldn’t have been surprised. What on Genesis was easy? What on this godforsaken planet was ever simple to understand?

A hiss came from a piece of the ebony pyramid in front of us. A section of the stone, large enough for the crawler to enter, opened. The slab of rock receded a few feet into the pyramid before lifting into the ceiling, revealing a square entrance. A moment later, lights clicked to life, running the length of the cube-shaped tunnel.

“You should hurry and get your dying friend inside,” the voice said in a rush of words. “He does not seem like he will make it much longer.”

As if the spell were broken, we jumped into action, Arun and I gently placing Ricky in the back of the crawler. Stacy and Tong jumped into the cab of the crawler, while Mutt remained content to trot alongside the vehicle.

The tunnel was shorter than I first thought, and we were only a hundred meters inside when it opened into a wide holding area with numerous vehicles of alien design.

These vehicles were neither like the crawlers nor the rovers we used. They were closer to weapons of war. Four large tires, even larger than those on the crawler, supported a bulky frame lifted from the ground. Two seats opened in the front of the vehicle with an open cab roof.

A weapon was placed behind the driver and front passenger, the barrel of the weapon extending over their heads. The back of the vehicle was smaller than that of the crawler, room for one person to stand while firing the weapon.

There had to be dozens of the vehicles all lined up, ready to be deployed. The staging room was also lined with neat rows of crates, all painted dark green. The letters burned into the crates were alien, but the symbols for weapons were universal.

Images of rockets, explosives, and blasters identified their contents. My heart skipped a beat. There was enough equipment in here to arm every single survivor at the Orion. We could have our own army. Perhaps not as numerous as Legion, but definitely better equipped.

Stacy pulled our crawler to a stop in the middle of the giant room. The pyramid door we used to enter closed behind us, then another door opened to our left, leading us further into the pyramid.

“This way,” Tong said, jumping out of the crawler. “This way to the medical wing.”

Questions crashed through my mind, but I pushed them away to focus on Ricky. Arun and I supported him as Tong led the way. Stacy and Mutt brought up our rear. The pyramid was even larger than I’d originally thought. A wide white hall that was brilliantly lit led us to a long room full of medical equipment.

At least I guessed it was medical equipment. I wasn’t really sure what I was seeing. The only things that looked remotely familiar were reclining chairs with a variety of monitors and tools attached to them.

“Here,” Tong said, pointing to a chair bed in a line of them to our left. “Place Ricky here and remove his armor.”

We didn’t waste time, and all of us pitched in to help. Arun and Stacy started at Ricky’s feet, while I worked on his breastplate, his breathing coming out shallow and labored. His eyes were closed and deep rivers of sweat came from his dark hair and brow.

“Stay with us,” Stacy said fiercely, voicing what we were all thinking. “You stay with us.”

A few seconds later, we had Ricky lying on the table in his cargo pants and long-sleeved shirt.

“The shirt as well,” Tong said. The Remboshi grabbed a stool on wheels beside Ricky. He reached up and brought one of the monitors down in front of his eyes. With the three fingers on each hand, he started to type in commands.

I ripped off Ricky’s shirt, ignoring the amount of blood soaked into the fabric. Bruising around where the round found him gave way to a nasty hole right under his armpit.

“Is he going to be okay?” Arun asked. “Tong, tell me he’s going to be okay.”

“We shall see,” Tong said, biting his lower lip. It wasn’t an expression I was used to seeing from the Remboshi. It didn’t make me feel any better.

19

Standing there and watching Tong work on my friend was one of the most frustrating and humbling things I’ve ever had to do in my life. Ricky’s life was out of my hands at the moment. I had done all I could do—we all had. Now it was time to sit back and wait.

Tong maneuvered his hands around the display screen like a conductor leading a full orchestra. I was surprised to see the part of the ceiling above Ricky’s bed lower down and a series of metal arms extend, which Tong controlled with his panel. They were equipped with everything from syringes and gauze to pliers and clamps.

Tong walked us through the process as we stood back and waited.

“I’m going to give him a sedative so he doesn’t wake while I begin the procedure,” Tong started, tapping a button. “After that, I’ll use a clamp to widen the wound and a tool we created to deal with wounds such as this. It will draw the projectile out of his body. We should then be able to close the wound.”

I heard everything he said but registered none of it. I felt helpless and sick to my stomach when I noticed Ricky’s blood staining my hands.

I looked down at the crimson stains on my palms, remembering the last time I had

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