Let me tell you, if you ever have to stay at a hospital for an extended period of time, the Queen’s Hospital in Honolulu comes highly recommended. Sure, the food sucks; the best thing there was the jello, but there’s something about perpetually sunny days that’s good for one’s health.
The very best part of my stay, though, was the time I spent with my family. Jill and Cameron were with me every day. After being separated for so long, we had a lot of catching up to do. I can honestly say that it was the happiest time of my life, all things considered. I did break nineteen bones in my body, after all.
The first six hours of the drive from the safe house in northern California to the fringes of eastern Oregon was downright pleasant, mostly because Marco was driving, and Roen had fallen asleep as soon as the farmhouse was out of sight. There was an unspoken rule somewhere about people riding shotgun having to keep the driver company, but Roen was a trained agent, and he slept every chance he got.
After all, who knew when the next time he could get a solid block of rest in would come? It was one of the first tenets that Tao had hammered into him. Rest whenever you can, be ready to wake at a moment’s notice, and never fall asleep on the job.
Early during their partnership, it had taken Tao a tremendous amount of effort to wake a slumbering Roen. Once Roen embraced his life as a Prophus agent, Tao was his constant alarm clock. These days, he had perfected the art of sleeping lightly. Somehow, whenever he needed to wake up, a phantom Tao would yell at him to wake up just like in the old days.
At around the six-hour mark, Marco nudged him awake and they traded places. Roen took the wheel while Marco settled into the passenger seat and promptly returned the favor. Except this time, the Brit snored. Loudly.
Roen preferred a snoring Marco to a talking one anyway. For him, chatting with the guy ranked somewhere between his yearly checkups with his proctologist and having a guys’ night out with Louis, Jill’s dad. Though the old man had sort of forgiven him by now, he still took a sick satisfaction in torturing Roen, usually with a combination of bourbon and not-so-subtle insults.
Still, by the fourth hour of his shift, the drive was getting old, and as much as he’d hate to admit it, a little company would have been nice to keep him alert along these long winding mountain roads. He welcomed hearing another person’s voice when Marco woke up around the fifth hour. That welcome respite lasted a whole five minutes into their conversation.
“Before we begin,” Marco said, “let’s get a few things straight. We don’t want a repeat of Egypt, right? We didn’t have a defined chain of command last time. This time we do. Are we in agreement?”
Let it go. Just let it go.
Tao’s voice repeated itself over and over in his head. Roen felt his guts twist into pretzels but held his tongue. Marco had a point, and this time, the chain of command was very clear. All hosts outranked non-hosts. The Prophus command structure was set in such a way that all hosts automatically were ranked at the Commander tier and had the ability to take control of any operation at any time, regardless of their capacity. The reason was that most Quasing were privy to more classified information.
Roen was in the unique situation of being the world’s only ex-host, but there were several consequences to that. Even when he had operated as a rogue, he had had the authority as a host to leverage Prophus resources. Now no longer a host, coupled with the fact that most of Command – the Keeper most of all – hated his guts, he was effectively the lowest of the low. In fact, he was pretty sure the Keeper had created a new sub-rank just for him. Stephen was the only guy high up in Command who had ever championed him. Now with him gone to the Eternal Sea and Camr missing somewhere in Tibet, Roen had no one backing him up.
In fact, if it hadn’t been for Jill, he was pretty sure they’d have just kicked him out of the organization altogether, which to be honest would have suited him fine if it hadn’t been for the fact that the rest of his family were chest-deep in Prophus operations. Well, that, and he honestly didn’t possess any other skills to make a living these days. After all, there weren’t many job opportunities for secret agents, and he sucked at his previous career.
“You got it… sir,” he said, trying to appear as un-sullen as possible. After all, why give Marco the satisfaction?
“Excellent,” Marco continued. “Now, because of your history as an ex-host, you’re my second.”
Roen grunted an affirmative. To be honest, this was a little better than what he thought Marco would do. “All right, what’s our objective? I’m still in the dark on what’s going on.”
“First things first.” Marco ticked off on one finger. “We bust our scout team friends out of the jam they’re in. The host commander is in a serious condition. Ines stabilizes him and we move him to safety.”
Roen nodded. “Sounds easy enough. And?”
“That’s just the warm-up,” said Marco. “The bean counters have been tracking various raw materials being shipped by the Genjix to this region. We think they’re building a base or a manufacturing facility here. It’s our job to help the scout team finish the job. Then we send the information to Command and let them decide what the next action items are.”
“Sounds fairly cut-and-dry. We can swing in, show those amateurs how two pros do it, and be back in the morning for more of Jill’s pancakes.”
Marco nodded. “I appreciate your optimism, old boy.”
“Who is the injured host?”
“Prie and his Quasing Pri.”
“Prie and Pri?”
“He had it changed legally when he became a host. He’s French and very much in love with his Quasing.”
Roen made a face. The presence of hosts on this operation definitely complicated matters. However, most missions involving the Genjix required at least one host to identify other Quasing.
A small yellow light a little ways up the mountain caught his attention. “What’s that?” Roen asked. He realized what it was as it became a bright streak shooting toward them. He punched the acceleration and swerved the car, but it was too late. The ground behind them exploded into a column of flames. Roen lost control of the steering, and gravity abandoned them. Then it came right back as the car crashed onto its side and rolled down the hill.
Fortunately for Roen, this wasn’t his first rolling car. Tao was with him the first two times, and he had learned, albeit the hard way, how to handle the chaotic impact. He hugged the steering wheel tightly and closed his eyes. The car felt like it was bouncing forever, but it finally came to a stop after crashing down a line of trees on its side.
It took a few seconds for his brain to reboot his bodily functions. He groaned as he moved his arms and wiggled his toes. Nothing seemed broken. He opened his eyes and looked over at Marco, who was hanging limp above him. Was the guy dead?
“Oh no.” The thought of Ahngr occupying him gave Roen the chills. He whacked the guy in the chest. “Dude, wake up. You better not be giving me -”
Marco groaned and opened his eyes. He looked down at Roen. “We’re alive? Brilliant.” He twisted his head back at Ines and Hurley sitting in the back. “You guys all right back there?”
He was rewarded with a soft affirmative.
“No time,” Roen said, unfastening his seat belt. He climbed out the driver’s side window, barely squeezing his frame through the opening. He grabbed tufts of grass and pulled himself out of the car until his legs were clear. He moaned as several parts of his body complained about moving so soon after an accident. For a second, he considered giving his body a rest.
You are in danger. Keep moving.
Tao’s phantom voice echoed in his head. Roen looked up the hill and saw several shadows against the moon’s backdrop move toward them. He drew his pistol and looked over at Marco, who was still struggling to get out of his seat belt.