“I’m going to share my idea with her, okay?” Michael said to Les.
He scratched the tuft of red hair at his temple, frowned, and then nodded.
Michael closed his eyes to fight off another jolt of phantom pain. It felt real, as if his arm were still there and burning—not just the flesh, but the bones, too, even the marrow.
“Commander,” Ada said.
“Sorry,” Michael said. He moved back to the comms. “Captain, I have an idea that might help us avoid using our own people in this fight, or any bombs or missiles.”
“I’m all ears,” Katrina replied.
“I’ve had nothing to do over the past few days but sit around and heal, so I spent some time researching Red Sphere and the AI defectors. After a detailed conversation with Timothy Pepper, I discovered they have a weakness.”
“I’m not sure I understand what that has to do with anything,” Katrina replied. “Why do I care about the defectors?”
“I’ll let Timothy explain,” Michael said.
The holographic form of the AI flickered to life in front of the communications equipment. Timothy folded his hands together in a triangle in front of his lips, almost as if praying.
“Captain, this is Timothy Pepper,” he said. “The defectors are some of the most advanced AI ever built by Industrial Tech Corporation. They were designed to be dropped into a hot zone, dispatch an enemy, and leave after inflicting mass casualties. This typically meant that civilians were destroyed in the process.”
“So I’ve heard,” Katrina said.
“During the war, the defectors hunted down human survivors at places like Red Sphere.”
“So why didn’t they leave?” Katrina said.
“Because they completed their final mission,” Michael said. “Until we showed up.”
“Go on.”
“Captain, Timothy believes we can drop an EMP bomb from Deliverance at Red Sphere to shut down the defectors. After we disable them, we’ll reprogram them to use at the Metal Islands, as part of our army.”
Layla gave Michael another incredulous side glance. She had already given her opinion: she hated the idea.
“Return to the place you almost died?” she had said. “Your quest to save X is going to get you killed. Maybe get us all killed.”
Michael cleared his throat. “Captain, I’m requesting permission to take Deliverance back to Red Sphere, deploy the EMP bomb, and bring Timothy Pepper to the surface with us to reprogram the defectors and to collect all the laser rifles we can find.”
“You’re injured, Commander,” said Katrina. “How can you expect to fight if you can’t aim a rifle?”
“X fought in far worse shape than I’m in, Captain.”
“Indeed, he did. I’ll give you that.”
There was a long pause while Katrina discussed the idea with her crew aboard the USS Zion.
“You need to rest, not fight,” Layla said. She laid a hand gently on his back and whispered, “Tin, I’m really worried about you.”
The comms crackled again.
“All right,” Katrina said. “Bring only a skeleton crew with you to Red Sphere, but be careful with that ship. I need it fully functional.”
“Understood, ma’am,” Les said.
“You have four days, Lieutenant. On the night of the fifth, we’re meeting at the Metal Islands at dark. We will offer el Pulpo the terms of surrender then. If he doesn’t accept, then God have mercy on our souls.”
NINE
Two days had passed since X boarded the freighter with the Cazador crew. At least, that was how much time he thought had slipped by. But on the surface, time had a way of vanishing without so much as a memory, leaving him wondering.
He had never thought he would feel that way again.
Clenching his fist, he wanted to pound the metal wall of his closet-size cell, but he didn’t need another injury now that everything was healing.
Lifting his leg, he checked the bullet wound on his foot. The gel had worked wonders, and the scab was the only one left on his body. He put a tattered sock back on and brought his knees up to his chest, trying to get comfortable in a room so small he couldn’t even lie down.
The hull groaned as the ship cut through the water. They had hit a patch of rough seas earlier that had him worried they might capsize. X hugged his body for warmth and closed his eyes.
He awoke to footsteps in the passage outside his cell. He put his feet back on the deck and stood, expecting to see the same three-toothed Cazador man who brought him his meals.
Instead, Rhino opened the hatch and ducked down to look at him. Form-fitting armor accentuating his muscular body covered him from boots to neck. He carried a helmet under his arm.
“Get ready,” Rhino said. “We’re almost there.”
X didn’t bother asking where they were. “I’m ready now.”
“Then follow me.” X stepped out into the narrow passage between rusted bulkheads. Several dangling lights flickered, casting shadows and revealing another Cazador soldier in front of an open hatch. He looked at X through a helmet with almond-shaped mirrored lenses.
“In there,” Rhino said.
A breathing apparatus built into the guard’s helmet crackled as the man threw up a hand salute. Rhino gave a nod, then jabbed X in the back, pushing him into an armory.
Racks of weapons secured by ropes covered the right wall. Over a row of lockers hung banners and flags representing different types of fish and, of course, a giant octopus.
On a bench sat two muscular men, putting on armor over tight-fitting black radiation suits. Another guy, already suited up, watched X as he stepped into the room.
“Immortal,” said one of the men sitting on the bench. He finished putting on his armor, stood, and beat a fist against his chest. The other guy followed suit, but the man across the way just stood there like a statue.
“Don’t confuse that with liking you,” Rhino said.
“Got it,” X replied.
Rhino pointed to the two men by the benches. “This is Luke, and Ricardo.” He gestured toward the guy across the way. "That’s Wendig. Cousin of Hammerhead.”
X scratched at the thick stubble on his jaw and resisted the urge to say something snide. There were too many guns in this place to start mouthing off.
“Lo siento,” X said instead, remembering the words for “I’m sorry.”
Wendig strode over, armored chest puffed out like a rooster’s. X could hear the huffing of his breath inside his helmet.
Rhino stepped between them.
“Take it easy,” X said.
Wendig’s helmet turned from Rhino to X, then back to Rhino. He backed away and punched a metal locker, denting it.
“These are three of the soldiers you will be fighting with,” Rhino said. “I will be leading this expedition. You listen to my orders and do what I say, or I promise you, things will not be good when we get back to the Metal Islands.”
X went back to scratching his salt-and-pepper beard.
“Your armor is in the locker over there,” Rhino said, pointing.
X walked over and opened it to find his Hell Diver armor. They must have found it on the WaveRunner.
Rhino gave a proud nod. “Every man should go into battle with the armor he feels comfortable in.”
“So why did you guys make me wear that leather jock strap back at the Sky Arena?” X said, unable to resist.
Rhino cracked a wide grin and then let out a bellowing laugh—the first time X had seen the man show any sort of emotion.
“That was just a test.”
“And this isn’t?” X asked.
“This is a mission. And a test. Now, get dressed.”
X quickly got into the clothing laid out for him and then put on his armor. When he had finished, he laced up his boots, keeping the left one loose over his injured foot.