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Colonel’s shoulder, “I won’t dispute your points, but consider this. Many incidents have occurred between my brother and I, and the hybrids, that I’ve never told my people about. Why? I wanted to maintain our bonds. We never could have come this far had we fractured.”

“Then there must be a way out of this insanity,” Joosten said.

“I am not giving up, Arnaud. We may yet fight side by side one more time. However, neither my brother nor any hybrid has lifted a finger to assist in our war preparation. Does this not give you pause?”

Joosten frowned. “We have never inserted them as combat soldiers. I assumed we were leaving them in reserve to use targeted Berserkers against enemy ships and ground troops.”

“And if they decide their only hope for survival is scorched earth? Do you think they will take care to avoid immortals when they target their Berserkers at the enemy?”

“I would hope.”

“As would I, Colonel, but they have biological children. We do not. They have an imperative that may overrule all others.”

“If we do this, Admiral, we’ll be haunted by it for the rest of our lives. They have always been our partners.”

“When they’ve chosen to be. Yes. Will you stand with me on what we may have to do?”

Joosten stood erect, hands clamped behind his back, shoulders firm.

“You liberated me, Admiral. I stand with you to the end.”

“Thank you, Arnaud. Now, return to your post in Haven. Oversee final operations. Await to hear from me and Cooper. Dismissed.”

As a soldier of the Guard, Valentin was never flexible. He followed orders, practiced maximum efficiency in every task from crowd control to missions under codename: Scorch. A solid plan was just that. Alterations, especially at the last minute, smelled of indecision and desperation. Consistent inflexibility worked for centuries. He followed those principles in his original conceits regarding JaRa’s defenses, face-to-face combat strategies, and offworld missions.

Now, beset by both indecision and desperation, Valentin felt queasy as he shifted those plans in the final hour. He double-tapped his amp and threw open a holocube. Admiral Rafael Kane nodded from the command bridge of Lioness.

“Admiral Kane, sit-rep.”

“All patrols report quiet, sir.”

“And they will continue to do so until it’s too late, I fear.”

“Sir?”

“The Guard is not going to come at us through the Nexus. They may try to dismantle the refractors, but they possess a weapon we never imagined. Admiral Kane, divert resources to a full system patrol. If I’m correct, you will detect an enemy target soon at our GPNM flank.”

Kane nodded. “Yes, sir. And when we make contact?”

“I’m going to send a data package to your admin stack. I’ve painted three scenarios. The first entails a strange request, but one you must fulfill. Precision on all three will be essential.”

“Yes, sir. Kane out.”

Valentin took a deep breath, held it, and released.

“I am not going to fail my people.”

He left the Scramjet and entered Haven, where the last few immortals suited up and the command center busily managed the final touchup on defensive preparations. He learned the process would be completed three hours ahead of schedule. Helpful, considering the classified adjustments known only to a few.

Valentin headed deep into the ship to deliver the only good news he might give anyone until after the battle was finished. Yet Samantha was not waiting in the secured room where he sequestered her before leaving ninety-five minutes earlier. He checked other nearby quarters. Nothing.

He returned to the command center and spoke with Lt. Jess Falmuth, who ran operations in Col. Joosten’s absence.

“Lt. Falmuth, did Samantha Pynn leave Haven this morning?”

“Yes,” the young officer said, her smile dissipating. “Twenty minutes ago.”

“Lieutenant, she was under strict quarantine. I know Col. Joosten passed along those orders to you.”

He saw the nervous twitch in the fifteen-year-old girl’s right eye.

“Yes, Admiral. I had no choice. I told them Ms. Pynn could not leave, but they insisted we didn’t have authority.”

“Who insisted?”

“Brother James’s sons, Benjamin and Peter.”

“I see. And how does their word supersede mine?”

“It doesn’t, sir. I told them so. They left very angrily but said they’d return. A few minutes later, Sister Rayna arrived. She made demands. She said Samantha was under Brother James’s protection and was his Ambassador to Earth. She said Samantha was needed for an important event. I’m sorry, Admiral. I wasn’t strong enough. She’s …”

Valentin waved her off. “I understand. Rayna does not like to be crossed. Return to your duties, Lieutenant. I’ll take it from here.”

Valentin stepped away from the command center and retreated to the room where he left Sam. What was Rayna up to? There were no events on the calendar, and the hybrids made no announcements. He brushed off the idea that somehow Rayna was one step ahead. Or worse yet, was scheming with her husband to preempt Valentin’s plan.

He tapped his amp but didn’t open a cube.

“Cooper,” he said.

“Here,” Michael replied. “Tell Sam the good news?”

“Working on it. We have a complication. What’s your status?”

“Holding pattern.”

“And the other one?”

Michael laughed. “Still grumbling, but he’ll do what we need.”

“Good. I sent the data. Anticipate rendezvous. Be careful, Michael. I have a feeling we won’t be in control much longer. Valentin out.”

His chest tightened with an overwhelming instinct Michael was right: Their fate was no longer measured in days. At best, they had hours. At worst, the sky would fall on top of them at any minute.

61

W HAT DO YOU MEAN? IS HE OUT OF HIS MIND?”

Valentin wasn’t halfway across the city when he received the news from his command center. The hybrid leadership was about to publicly announce a celebration to be held at the future amphitheater where James oversaw Inauguration. Valentin stopped his rifter and spit his words while

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