United as One
Page 81
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“What about John?” I ask. “Could you track him down?”
“I tried,” she replies. “He’s out of range too.”
I bite my lip to keep from yelling out in frustration. What a terrible time for John to go running off on his own. Not like he could’ve known that the Mogs were somehow going to track us to Patience Creek, but damn it, we need him with us now.
“Can’t you like”—I wave my hand at Ella—“juice up your power? Pull him into a dream like you did before?”
“It doesn’t . . .” Ella frowns and looks away from me. “My brush with Legacy, the power I gained, I guess it was only temporary. I’m returning to normal, and the energy is going back where it belongs.”
I push my fingers through my hair and squeeze my scalp. “So that’s a no.”
A shrill beep from the cockpit gets my attention.
“That’s our warship,” Lexa calls back to me. “They’re trying to open a communication channel.”
We left Adam, Dust and Rex back in Niagara Falls, manning the warship as best they can with a two-person crew. They’re following after us, but in terms of speed, that mammoth ship isn’t able to keep up with Lexa’s little craft.
I hop back into the cockpit as Lexa hits a button that calls up a holographic projection of Adam in one corner of the windshield. He’s standing on the elevated commander’s platform of the warship, and, with nothing but emptiness behind him, he looks small and out of place. I expect him to ask if we’ve gotten any word from Patience Creek. However, as soon as Adam sees me, he starts pressing a button on a console in front of him.
“Guys, I’m going to patch a broadcast through to you,” Adam says gravely, in a rush. “This is going out live right now.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, confused. The idea that there could be something more urgent than what we’re rushing towards just doesn’t register with me.
“Every warship in the fleet is receiving this,” Adam says. “And from what I can tell, he’s hijacked every still-active satellite to broadcast to the remaining news channels as well.”
“Who—?”
Before I can finish my question, Adam goes to split screen. The new feed causes a hitch in my breathing, and I have to sit down on the arm of Lexa’s chair.
It’s Setrákus Ra. Alive and well.
“Have I not been patient?” he asks, his dark eyes staring directly into the camera.
The shot of Setrákus Ra is from the chest up. He sits in an ornate chair that’s best described as a throne. Behind him, I can see the stone walls of a cavern. He wears a bloodred silk shirt with the buttons undone halfway down his sternum. It’s a ridiculous look, but it’s also a message. A message for me.
There’s no scar on his chest. No mark. Nothing.
“My warships hold your world’s most important cities. It should be clear by now that your planet is finished. And yet, you still resist. . . .”
Setrákus Ra’s tone is even and condescending. Marina, Ella and Nine crowd in behind me as he drones on.
“Did he get plastic surgery or something?” Nine asks. “What’s with his face?”
I take a closer look. Setrákus Ra’s features are as sharp as ever, his head still shaved, the purple scar on his neck still puffy. He’s pale, dark eyed, and yet . . . he looks less haggard than when I last saw him. He doesn’t look so old or nearly so monstrous. He looks much closer to the young version of Setrákus Ra that we all saw in Ella’s vision.
“He can shape shift, can’t he?” Marina asks.
“No,” Ella says. “The staff he used for that was destroyed in New York City. This . . . this is something else.”
“Lorien,” I say. “It’s got to be from the Loric energy he stole.”
“I gave humanity an ultimatum,” Setrákus Ra continues. “Surrender unconditionally and turn over to me those humans infected with Legacies. Only the wise leaders of Russia saw the wisdom in my words. Only they understood that these Legacies now afflicting humanity are a disease, something passed on from an alien species driven extinct by their own hubris. They are a sickness that only I can cure.”
“I am not fucking extinct,” growls Nine.
Setrákus Ra puts a hand on his chest, like he’s feeling an emotion. “I understand how paradigm shifts can be difficult. I understand that acknowledging humanity’s subservience is troubling for the unenlightened. I am not a monster. I do not wish to see your cities razed, to shed blood needlessly, and so I allowed the deadline I set to lapse. I gave humanity time to come to its senses. I showed mercy.”
“I tried,” she replies. “He’s out of range too.”
I bite my lip to keep from yelling out in frustration. What a terrible time for John to go running off on his own. Not like he could’ve known that the Mogs were somehow going to track us to Patience Creek, but damn it, we need him with us now.
“Can’t you like”—I wave my hand at Ella—“juice up your power? Pull him into a dream like you did before?”
“It doesn’t . . .” Ella frowns and looks away from me. “My brush with Legacy, the power I gained, I guess it was only temporary. I’m returning to normal, and the energy is going back where it belongs.”
I push my fingers through my hair and squeeze my scalp. “So that’s a no.”
A shrill beep from the cockpit gets my attention.
“That’s our warship,” Lexa calls back to me. “They’re trying to open a communication channel.”
We left Adam, Dust and Rex back in Niagara Falls, manning the warship as best they can with a two-person crew. They’re following after us, but in terms of speed, that mammoth ship isn’t able to keep up with Lexa’s little craft.
I hop back into the cockpit as Lexa hits a button that calls up a holographic projection of Adam in one corner of the windshield. He’s standing on the elevated commander’s platform of the warship, and, with nothing but emptiness behind him, he looks small and out of place. I expect him to ask if we’ve gotten any word from Patience Creek. However, as soon as Adam sees me, he starts pressing a button on a console in front of him.
“Guys, I’m going to patch a broadcast through to you,” Adam says gravely, in a rush. “This is going out live right now.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, confused. The idea that there could be something more urgent than what we’re rushing towards just doesn’t register with me.
“Every warship in the fleet is receiving this,” Adam says. “And from what I can tell, he’s hijacked every still-active satellite to broadcast to the remaining news channels as well.”
“Who—?”
Before I can finish my question, Adam goes to split screen. The new feed causes a hitch in my breathing, and I have to sit down on the arm of Lexa’s chair.
It’s Setrákus Ra. Alive and well.
“Have I not been patient?” he asks, his dark eyes staring directly into the camera.
The shot of Setrákus Ra is from the chest up. He sits in an ornate chair that’s best described as a throne. Behind him, I can see the stone walls of a cavern. He wears a bloodred silk shirt with the buttons undone halfway down his sternum. It’s a ridiculous look, but it’s also a message. A message for me.
There’s no scar on his chest. No mark. Nothing.
“My warships hold your world’s most important cities. It should be clear by now that your planet is finished. And yet, you still resist. . . .”
Setrákus Ra’s tone is even and condescending. Marina, Ella and Nine crowd in behind me as he drones on.
“Did he get plastic surgery or something?” Nine asks. “What’s with his face?”
I take a closer look. Setrákus Ra’s features are as sharp as ever, his head still shaved, the purple scar on his neck still puffy. He’s pale, dark eyed, and yet . . . he looks less haggard than when I last saw him. He doesn’t look so old or nearly so monstrous. He looks much closer to the young version of Setrákus Ra that we all saw in Ella’s vision.
“He can shape shift, can’t he?” Marina asks.
“No,” Ella says. “The staff he used for that was destroyed in New York City. This . . . this is something else.”
“Lorien,” I say. “It’s got to be from the Loric energy he stole.”
“I gave humanity an ultimatum,” Setrákus Ra continues. “Surrender unconditionally and turn over to me those humans infected with Legacies. Only the wise leaders of Russia saw the wisdom in my words. Only they understood that these Legacies now afflicting humanity are a disease, something passed on from an alien species driven extinct by their own hubris. They are a sickness that only I can cure.”
“I am not fucking extinct,” growls Nine.
Setrákus Ra puts a hand on his chest, like he’s feeling an emotion. “I understand how paradigm shifts can be difficult. I understand that acknowledging humanity’s subservience is troubling for the unenlightened. I am not a monster. I do not wish to see your cities razed, to shed blood needlessly, and so I allowed the deadline I set to lapse. I gave humanity time to come to its senses. I showed mercy.”
