ELEVEN
Several days after Dr. Huff lopped his arm off, X left his quarters for the second time with Miles. An escort of guards, led by Lieutenant Sloan, accompanied him up the short walk from his quarters to the command center on the capitol tower.
The five-minute jaunt took him three times that, and he had to stop three times to catch his breath. It wasn’t all from fatigue and injuries—he had a wicked hangover.
“You’re sure about this?” Sloan said for a second time.
He shot her a glare.
“Okay, boss,” she said.
He led the way, trying not to puke. The night of his surgery, Sloan had practically carried him out to the rooftop to look over the rigs. Much of that night was hazy, but he grinned at what he could recall.
“Dr. Huff just saved your life, and now you’re going to kill yourself?” she had yelled. “He can’t bring you back to life again!”
X would have laughed if laughing didn’t hurt. The stump where his arm had been connected still burned, and the scabs from his many wounds were soft from days in bed.
On top of that, his head was in constant fog, as if storm clouds had settled in his brain. It wasn’t all from the shine and wine. Everything since the Purple Pearl seemed like a bad dream. The flesh-eating bacteria, the fever dreams of Ada in the wastes, the losses incurred in Rio de Janeiro, and Colonel Moreto’s betrayal. But for the Barracudas, she would have stormed the capitol tower and the Hive to slaughter his people.
General Rhino’s spirit had watched over him that night. His former team of Barracudas, led by Mac and Felipe, had recruited a team to attack Carmela. With an assist from Michael and Magnolia, they had captured her and scotched a coup d’état.
“Here we are,” Sloan said.
Miles trotted toward the command center hatch, where Victor and Ton stood sentry.
“King Xavier,” Victor said in his thick accent.
The dusky warrior and his comrade both came to attention. It was the first time they had seen him in days.
“Evenin’, fellas,” X said.
Sloan switched on a light over stacks of maps and books on the table. His requested bottle of wine sat in the center. He poured himself a glass. Just the thing for a shine hangover.
“I’ll come back in a bit,” said Sloan. “Got some stuff to check on.”
X started his briefing on everything he had missed over the past week. Miles went under the table and conked out at his feet.
When Sloan returned, he had gone through the reports on the militia’s defensive positions, along with two more glasses of wine.
Sloan picked up the bottle, now over half empty, and asked, “How many glasses have you had?”
“This is my second,” he lied. “These are small glasses.”
Her lazy eye watched him take another drink.
“Sir, I just think you should try to stay sober before our meeting.”
X snickered. “You don’t think I’m sober? You clearly haven’t seen me drunk.”
“Actually, I have, sir, but I was just a kid. It was before a dive when you brought back nuclear fuel cells. Not everyone came back.”
All trace of jocularity vanished with the memory. The dive had cost him his entire team, including his best friend and Michael’s father, Aaron.
Grabbing the bottle, he filled the glass to the brim, ready to drown the memories.
A rap came on the hatch, and Dr. Huff walked in, breathing heavily.
“Oh, great,” X muttered.
“I rushed here when I heard you left your bed again,” Huff said. “Xavier, what am I going to do with you?”
“Hopefully not chop off my other arm.”
Sloan did smirk at that.
Huff’s eyes narrowed, forming crow’s-feet around the edges.
“I’m kidding, Doc,” X said. “In hindsight, I’m glad you did it.”
“After you came out of surgery, you said you were going to rip my arms off and beat me to death with them.”
“I’m sorry, Doc, truly.” X raised his glass, almost sloshing the wine. “Thank you for bringing me back from the brink.”
Huff’s eyes narrowed again. “Is that alcohol?”
Sloan nodded. “His third or fourth glass, if I had to guess.”
“I need it for the pain,” X said. “Now, can we get this checkup over with? The rest of the team will be here shortly.”
Huff snorted, and Miles let out a low growl. X scratched the dog’s head while the doc checked his vitals and took off the bandage.
“You’re healing ten times as fast, thanks to this,” Huff said, smearing on the nanotech gel Colonel Forge had gifted them with. “As long as you rest, you’ll make a full recovery.”
The doctor looked over at Sloan as he packed up his gear. “Make sure he follows my orders for once,” he said.
Sloan nodded.
The doctor left them, and X rose from his seat, trying not to show any discomfort.
Michael, Magnolia, Rodger, and Sofia entered in their new black jumpsuits with their team crests on the breast. Edgar was with them, and so were rookie divers Ted, Lena, Hector, and Alberto.
Arlo limped in after them, holding his belly and wincing.
“Surprised you made it here, kid,” X said.
The young diver smiled, revealing two missing teeth. “Surprised to see you on your feet, too, sir.”
X greeted the other divers with a forced smile. Only Sofia did not acknowledge him. He knew that she placed some of the blame for Rhino’s death at his feet.
So did he. He should have killed Vargas long ago.
Next through the door was Les, in his dress whites, along with Eevi, and finally Samson, wearing oil-stained coveralls.
“Let’s get started,” X said. “Samson, you’re up first. How are the repairs coming on Discovery?”
“Good and bad, sir,” said the engineer. “We’re making headway on the second bank of thrusters, but two turbofans need new parts that I haven’t been able to salvage anywhere.”
“There is another option,” Les said.
Samson shook his head. “I told you this already, Captain. I don’t want to take them from the Hive.”
“Why not?” X asked.
“Sir, I wasn’t a big fan of decommissioning her in the first place, for the simple reason that we might need her again.”
X had a feeling that was where this was going. “If you strip the Hive, can she still fly?”
“Yeah, but not as fast as we might need her to if we have to pack up in a hurry,” Samson said.
“If we can’t get Discovery fully operational, it won’t matter,” Les cut in. “The skinwalkers will come, and if the defectors find us, we’re done for. There is no escaping them. We have to strike first.”
X pulled out Les’s handwritten note about the machines. “I still haven’t read this yet, Captain.”
“That’s classified,” Les reminded him.
“I’m declassifying it with everyone in this room,” X replied. He rubbed his forehead. “Samson, if you can’t find the spare parts elsewhere, take them from the Hive. Captain Mitchells is right: Discovery is more important to us right now than our old home.”
“All right, sir,” Samson said. He coughed into his handkerchief.
“And see Dr. Huff about that cough.”
Samson grumbled something.
X checked Eevi, who hadn’t said a word. She stared ahead, almost in a trance, before seeing he was looking at her.
He gave her a small nod, simply to say he was grateful to have her back at work.
“Let’s move on to the survivors from Rio de Janeiro before we talk more about the defectors,” X said.