United as One
Page 16
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“I shoot rays out of my eyes that turn things to stone, apparently,” Daniela says warily. She tosses her head, her braids bouncing. “Would’ve changed my hair up at least if I’d known you people were gonna stick me with such a stupid superpower.”
“I get it,” Nine says, pointing at her. “Because Medusa.”
“Yeah, dummy,” Daniela says, rolling her eyes. “You got it.”
“I like her,” I say to Sam.
Although no one forced us to choose seats at opposite ends of the table, there’s a very clear line between us and the military personnel that outnumber us almost three to one. They’re all arranged at the far end where Lawson sits at the head. The closest one to our part of the table is Walker, a human buffer zone, seats empty on either side of her. She stares down at the notes in front of her, none of the other government types making any effort to chat with her.
The twins take seats a little behind and on either side of Lawson. They look like bodyguards. Hell, it occurs to me that most of the people in this room are armed and would protect a guy like Lawson before us. Besides the official types sitting at the table, there’s a bunch of straight-up soldiers hanging around against the walls, their rifles pointed down but still very much loaded and ready. I’m pretty sure we could take this whole bunch, guns and all, but that doesn’t mean I’m not a little concerned at being in close quarters with all this firepower.
On the wall behind Lawson there’s a huge touch-screen display with a map of the entire world. There are zones highlighted with ominous red heat signatures: New York City, Los Angeles, London and about twenty more. Those must be where Setrákus Ra’s warships are posted. Then, in the United States only, there are a bunch of green dots, much smaller than the warships but numerous. As I look closer, I realize that those dots all form loose circles around the Mogadorian hot spots. These must be the cells that Caleb was talking about, small but organized and ready to strike back.
When I look down from the display, I catch Lawson studying me. He’s been watching me take stock of his map. He gives me a little nod before turning his attention to the rest of the room.
“I think we’re about ready to get started,” Lawson announces, his voice casual but carrying, with a soft Southern accent. All the side conversations immediately cut off.
I glance around. Mark and Adam still haven’t showed up. I open my mouth to say something, but Lawson’s speech is already under way.
“For those of you who don’t already know me, my name is General Clarence Lawson.” The general clearly intends this for our group, since there’s no doubt in my mind all the military and government flunkies know him well. “Full authority has been granted to me by the president to coordinate the country’s response to the Mogadorian invasion.”
Lawson pauses and waits for a response. None of us say anything. Personally, I’m not sure what he expects from us. Our own introduction? I glance down the table and see John staring straight at the general, waiting for him to continue.
Lawson crosses his arms and clears his throat. “You let me know if I move too fast for you,” he says with a dry smile. “I’m not a man who wastes his words, and I don’t often find myself addressing matters of strategy to civilian teenagers, be they extraterrestrials or otherwise.”
“You won’t go too fast for us,” John says, his gaze unwavering.
Lawson nods once, then looks at the nonpowered humans in the room. “As for the rest of you, keep in mind that these young people have likely killed more hostile aliens than all the branches of our armed service combined. Respect that and respect their presence.”
I don’t know what to make of this guy. One minute he’s ragging on us for being young and the next he’s singing our praises at the expense of his people. Maybe he’s just one of those dudes who tries to keep everyone on their toes through constant negativity.
Lawson picks up a tablet device and hits a button. A countdown clock appears on the screen behind him, highlighted in red and in the negative.
“We are approximately ten hours beyond Setrákus Ra’s deadline for unconditional surrender, which included a demand to turn over all so-called ‘renegade’ Garde as well as LANEs. To our knowledge, only Moscow has complied with this ultimatum. The Russian government began arresting dozens of youths last night. Our agents report that many of them haven’t even manifested Legacies and are likely antigovernment agitators who the administration saw as an opportunity to get rid of while simultaneously placating the hostiles.”
“I get it,” Nine says, pointing at her. “Because Medusa.”
“Yeah, dummy,” Daniela says, rolling her eyes. “You got it.”
“I like her,” I say to Sam.
Although no one forced us to choose seats at opposite ends of the table, there’s a very clear line between us and the military personnel that outnumber us almost three to one. They’re all arranged at the far end where Lawson sits at the head. The closest one to our part of the table is Walker, a human buffer zone, seats empty on either side of her. She stares down at the notes in front of her, none of the other government types making any effort to chat with her.
The twins take seats a little behind and on either side of Lawson. They look like bodyguards. Hell, it occurs to me that most of the people in this room are armed and would protect a guy like Lawson before us. Besides the official types sitting at the table, there’s a bunch of straight-up soldiers hanging around against the walls, their rifles pointed down but still very much loaded and ready. I’m pretty sure we could take this whole bunch, guns and all, but that doesn’t mean I’m not a little concerned at being in close quarters with all this firepower.
On the wall behind Lawson there’s a huge touch-screen display with a map of the entire world. There are zones highlighted with ominous red heat signatures: New York City, Los Angeles, London and about twenty more. Those must be where Setrákus Ra’s warships are posted. Then, in the United States only, there are a bunch of green dots, much smaller than the warships but numerous. As I look closer, I realize that those dots all form loose circles around the Mogadorian hot spots. These must be the cells that Caleb was talking about, small but organized and ready to strike back.
When I look down from the display, I catch Lawson studying me. He’s been watching me take stock of his map. He gives me a little nod before turning his attention to the rest of the room.
“I think we’re about ready to get started,” Lawson announces, his voice casual but carrying, with a soft Southern accent. All the side conversations immediately cut off.
I glance around. Mark and Adam still haven’t showed up. I open my mouth to say something, but Lawson’s speech is already under way.
“For those of you who don’t already know me, my name is General Clarence Lawson.” The general clearly intends this for our group, since there’s no doubt in my mind all the military and government flunkies know him well. “Full authority has been granted to me by the president to coordinate the country’s response to the Mogadorian invasion.”
Lawson pauses and waits for a response. None of us say anything. Personally, I’m not sure what he expects from us. Our own introduction? I glance down the table and see John staring straight at the general, waiting for him to continue.
Lawson crosses his arms and clears his throat. “You let me know if I move too fast for you,” he says with a dry smile. “I’m not a man who wastes his words, and I don’t often find myself addressing matters of strategy to civilian teenagers, be they extraterrestrials or otherwise.”
“You won’t go too fast for us,” John says, his gaze unwavering.
Lawson nods once, then looks at the nonpowered humans in the room. “As for the rest of you, keep in mind that these young people have likely killed more hostile aliens than all the branches of our armed service combined. Respect that and respect their presence.”
I don’t know what to make of this guy. One minute he’s ragging on us for being young and the next he’s singing our praises at the expense of his people. Maybe he’s just one of those dudes who tries to keep everyone on their toes through constant negativity.
Lawson picks up a tablet device and hits a button. A countdown clock appears on the screen behind him, highlighted in red and in the negative.
“We are approximately ten hours beyond Setrákus Ra’s deadline for unconditional surrender, which included a demand to turn over all so-called ‘renegade’ Garde as well as LANEs. To our knowledge, only Moscow has complied with this ultimatum. The Russian government began arresting dozens of youths last night. Our agents report that many of them haven’t even manifested Legacies and are likely antigovernment agitators who the administration saw as an opportunity to get rid of while simultaneously placating the hostiles.”
