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think.”

Nilsson put aside his emotions. The mission was clear.

β€œWhere are you, Cooper?” He searched the stream for a locator beacon but found none. How was a low-level officer able to build such a wall? β€œWe need to talk.”

β€œNo. Not enough time. Major, I’m sure you have your orders, but I can’t protect you. If we run into each other inside the city, I’ll have to kill you. I don’t want to, but everything has changed.”

β€œYou don’t sound like yourself, Cooper. Have they done something to you?”

β€œThere’s one way you survive, Major. Look behind you. She’s your only hope.”

*

Maya retrieved her laser pistol, careful not to make a sound. Nilsson’s team separated. She couldn’t believe the soldier moving west didn’t catch her out of the corner of his eye.

Michael replied. β€œDo nothing.”

Not helpful instructions, but she complied. Seconds later, Nilsson tapped his amp and talked in hushed tones. Like before, Maya couldn’t make out the details, but this had to be Michael.

She raised her pistol but reconsidered. He won’t hurt me.

Nilsson unholstered his blast rifle seconds before he stopped talking. He gripped it tight, twirling it as his side. Nilsson looked both ways then over his left shoulder and up the slope.

He pivoted until his eyes fell on Maya. He didn’t lift the rifle. She kept the pistol to her side.

Was his glare one of bewilderment? Anger? Stunned relief? Maya never was good at reading military men.

He checked his team’s relative positions and started up the slope. He stopped several feet shy, scanning her as if viewing a hologram.

β€œI’m glad you survived,” Nilsson said. β€œYou and Michael both.”

β€œAnd Aldo Cabrise.”

He winced at the prospect. β€œI should have known. Hmm. Michael says I’ll die if I enter the city. Even said he’d kill me himself. You wish to explain what’s happening?”

β€œI don’t know as much as Michael, but he’s right about the city. Call off the attack. Your people will be massacred.”

Nilsson’s jaw stiffened. β€œI don’t think so. We’re a bit more skilled than a Mongol horde. But my particular mission does not carry the best odds. I think meeting you just improved them.”

β€œWhat?”

He raised his rifle. β€œDrop the weapon.”

β€œWhat are you doing, Major?”

β€œGiving myself a chance to live another day.”

66

T HE PROCESSION BEGAN OUTSIDE the imperial residence. Three hybrids – Bartok Hyam, Alistair Kwan, and Joakim Cardenas – led the group. Bartok, the only hybrid without children, took the lead. Joakim’s two boys walked dutifully at their father’s side. Alistair held his young son’s hand, the boy still learning to walk. They dressed in the wild, festive colors displayed at Inauguration, their strut casual yet with a conspicuous air of superiority. Next, Brother James clasped his hands behind his back while sons Benjamin and Peter carried their baby sisters, Martina and Irina. Walking in James’s shadow, as ordered, Sam marched to her fate.

Of all the ways to die, Sam thought, this might be the most outrageous and shameful. Rayna planned to sacrifice her in public for reasons only a jealous, mildly insane Cossack might understand. No matter what Rayna or the creature she called β€˜husband’ suggested about the Jewels, this act was personal. What statement they meant to send to their hearty band of Berserkers and the army of immortals mystified Sam. She didn’t care anymore. After three months in darkness, she should have known a week of false hope bathed in sunlight and the exuberance of children was akin to a last supper.

Alongside the procession, six of those child soldiers marched quietly. They acted like security, setting cautious eyes down passing streets and toward the sky. They held their blast rifles at chest level, their helmets retracted. Sam recognized one from yesterday at the food production line. They arrived in JaRa on the same Scramjet.

She tried to catch Rikhi Syed’s eye. Might they share a smile or passing wink? The boy looked every way but hers. Sam didn’t blame him. He had orders, and he dared not risk Brother James’s ire.

A few other immortals followed the procession from parallel streets. Sam glimpsed them moving at the same pace. There! It was brief, but she saw Rosa Marteen among the followers. Rosa, who made a friend of a Chancellor hostage without reservation.

Once, she saw Valentin on a rifter. He had the answers she craved but made no move to join the processional. He focused on an open holocube. What went wrong? Did he lose faith in her?

Sam’s misfortune increased as James lectured to his boys with a volume clearly intended to be heard from behind.

β€œWomen,” he said, β€œare traitors by profession. Their ability to leverage your love and devotion will keep you on your guard every day. They play a long game designed to slowly bind you to their web. You are ensnared years before you surrender. Some achieve this through temptation and vice; others through untamed passion; and some are no more than liars and frauds. Remember this the first time you think you’re in love.”

After a moment of silence, Benjamin asked:

β€œWhich technique did Mother use?”

James exploded in laughter. β€œShe’s wrong about you, Benjamin. You’re not an idiot. Son, your mother uses them all. That’s what makes her perfect. Yes?”

Sam glanced again at Rikhi Syed. All she had to do was sprint. Would he react before she grabbed the rifle? Would he stop her if she filled James with flash pegs? At least she’d have a noble death.

*

Valentin turned an eye toward Sam at each passing street. There was nothing he could do for her. At least, not yet. For the moment, they wouldn’t place her in danger. His attention scattered between battle deployments, supply lines, orbital status reports, and keeping tabs on his newest ally. Michael took position at the designated coordinates, but Valentin suspected Michael would react to the

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