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  Even with the mixed groups in the Action, Intellectuals like Baudricort even handled weapons. They kept up a pretty good fight against the Lebabolis army a lot of the time.

  A ramp lowered on the Hell Hawk, and several dark forms dropped out. Metallic soldiers. They looked human, but when I saw the deep red glowing lights in their chests, I knew what they were.

  Radomet.

  The result of Lebabolis experiments, their own super soldier force. Select Warrior Products who went through a series of modifications. The Radomet weren't human, but then again anyone who accepted that assignment wasn’t ever human at all.

  At least ten Radomet advanced toward the patient area. The pulse fire sprayed the room like a sideward electric monsoon. The voices on the Radomet crackled over the air. They sounded like electronic growls, speaking a strange mechanical code to each other.

  The story I heard was that Radomet voices produced a pitch that paralyzed people with fear if their minds weren’t strong enough. It was one way they cornered the runaways back in Lebabolis.

  Most of the Action pulse fire glanced off Radomet armor with no sign of damage. Several more Action soldiers fell; their screams filled the silences between weapon fire.

  “We gotta get over there!” I said to Baudricort. I inched toward the patient area, but he grabbed my arm. “No, Ana, wait!”

  I fought his grip. “Let go! You want 'em to get our people?”

  The room shook with another blast, and I was knocked down again. A new burst of dust and smoke wafted over us. My vision clouded even more as I struggled back onto my knees.

  Then, in the mayhem, one soldier confirmed my worst fear.

  "They're taking our people!"

  Loud metallic shrieking rang as the Radomet surged past, each carrying pods with people in ‘em. They all charged back to their ship.

  “Varrick!” I screamed. I lunged with my hands outstretched as if I could've pulled him back from where I was.

  My gut erupted with a deep ache, and tears filled my vision. I was so fixed on the sight of Varrick carried away in a pod, helpless, I hadn't heard the metallic motorized whine of the Radomet to my side, and before I knew what happened I felt a blow to my head and dropped to the ground. My vision blacked out, and my eyes stung. A deep ache throbbed from my head at the point I was struck. I blinked and rubbed my eyes, but it was pointless.

  As I rolled on the ground, a few pulse shots from our people rang out. Baudricort bellowed, “Stop! You might hit one of ours!”

  A deep aching dread burst in my gut as I watched Varrick loaded onto the Hell Hawk. I lurched up on my knees. “Shoot the cockpit!” I yelled. “We can disable it!”

  “No!” Baudricort yelled back and signaled the others to stop. He shook his head. “Too risky.”

  My face flushed as I gazed at the ship. No. Not him. He's all I have left.

  The Hell Hawk engines fired up and blasted the room with warm air. A shower of debris swirled around in the warm tempest of heat and engine exhaust.

  I failed him. I told him I'd get us away from here, and I failed him.

  I saw him in front of me, the little boy before he was sick. How he played with me, how I held him. How I protected him, or was supposed to.

  Now... gone.

  I yelled at Baudricort, “Do something!”

  He winced and eyed the rest of the troops and the Hell Hawk. “We're overpowered. They won this one; there'll be others.”

  I grabbed Baudricort by the front of his shirt and shook him. “That's my brother!”

  “I know! I know Ana, I-- I'm sorry.” His lips twitched, and he was speechless. I’d seen him most days. He directed so many people around and spoke to the entire Action in person and over the comm network announcements. Silence wasn’t normal for him.

  His eyes burned, and I wished I knew what went through his mind at that point. He said nothing, but I still wondered. My gaze slid to the aircraft. “Why aren't they finishing us off?”

  Baudricort had no answer.

  The engines on the Hell Hawk revved up and sent more waves of hot putrid wind down into the busted room. I squinted as bits of dust scraped my face.

  I released my grip on Baudricort. He watched me a little while longer and stroked my arm. Part of me wanted him to say something, anything. The other part wanted to take a swing at him for letting our people go.

  Then, almost like a vehicle switching gears, he spun on his heel and barked orders to everyone around. Whatever it was that had him frozen was gone, and he was back into command mode.

  Everyone started the clean up and tended to the wounded. I joined in; it was better than simmering in a pool of pity. While I helped out, I picked up bits of conversation from people around me about the next move. A raid like this meant Relocation came soon after. They moved around every few weeks, as the raids happened all over the Outlands.

  I made my way around the mobile facility and spotted Baudricort inside one of the comm rooms. The door wasn’t all the way closed, so I peered in enough and saw Baudricort with Otto. They watched a monitor with Charista on screen. Her dark eyes always gave me a chill. She read a message to the Action. After a few seconds, Baudricort flicked his head to the side and stopped the video.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  I opened the door further. “The door wasn’t secure.”

  He turned around. His face melded into a scowl, and he reached for the door. “You need to help with the Relo prep and mind your own business.”

  “I'm leaving to get him.”

  He stopped with his hand on the door. “You're what?”

  “I'm going. I'm rescuing him-”

  “Hold it, just hold it.” He swung the door back, his brow furrowed. That look had gotten familiar pretty quick. I sensed one of his offers was coming. He sure had a way with people. After all, he had started the move from Lebabolis. A few weeks ago I wouldn't have questioned him, but now that Varrick was taken...

  Before he got started, I had my own piece. “I dunno why you didn't make your case to her. If it was so damn important we took off with their gear and people, couldn't you reason with the General of the Lebabolis Army and save us the trouble?”

  He smiled and shook his head. “Don't you think I would've considered that?”

  “Well, what was that I just saw? Charista reaching out to you?”

  Baudricort eyed Otto. “She’s trying to force a truce. Same thing she always does.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him, and he added, “You saw what they did. This’ll get worse, believe me. I know you want your brother. I want everyone they took back.” He patted my shoulder as he added, “I have a plan.”

  I knew it.

  Otto watched me from over Baudricort's shoulders. He was Baudricort's number one tech person, at least that's how Baudricort described him. Otto's gaze was a great indicator of the truth, unlike other people’s. Otto fixed his glasses and nodded, his eyes wide and with a sincere grin.

  I looked back toward Baudricort. “What?”

  He narrowed his eyes, as if he searched for the answer I wanted to hear. “I think it's best you do go. But not for Varrick, not yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “It's too dangerous, and I can't help you.” He grimaced. “We're already down several soldiers. I can't just grab a few and send them with you to rescue Varrick.”

  My lip trembled. He tried his best to soothe me. “Hey, I hate this, I do. And they took more than him, remember? Thing is, they found us. And once that happens, they get even better at zeroing us in.”

  Once again, I was on my own. “So you don't want me to go for Varrick and you don't want me to stay here. What the hell does that leave?”

  “I'm sending a small team on a special mission. It's a group of three and one Landcrawler. I want you with them.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “How's that safer?”

  “We're in the Outlands. Nowhere's safe. Please trust me.” He wiped a small piece of debris from my cheek wi
th his finger. “This is better for now. We'll figure out a rescue soon enough.”

  My eyes darted to the side. “Keep talking.”

  “I'm working on hacks to MODOSNet with Otto.” Baudricort nodded toward Otto, whose fingers jabbed the keyboard in front of him and produced a constant rattle of clicks and taps. “It's not done, but maybe by the time you come back.”

  Baudricort always attempted hacks into MODOSNet. They were used for a lot of things, from locating food shipments that we raided to breaches of the security system. Hacks were how he got so many of us out in Exodus, but of course they had made the system more impenetrable ever since.

  “So I ride along, for safety?”

  “For now. Getting you to another Encampment is too difficult, and then you got the same problem as here. A small group is easier to hide and move. Stay out of the way of the Warrior Products; they'll handle the rest. Come to the briefing room, you should meet each other.”

  Chapter 3 (Ana)

  T he meeting room, like most things with the Action, was haphazard. Exo-suits lined much of the walls, along with equipment for harvesting Valentium. They made runs for fuel whenever it was safe or whenever supply ran low. It was always a risk, but so was being stranded in the Outlands.

  Baudricort stood next to a screen against one wall, which displayed maps of the area as I and the other three watched from a table close by.

  “I know you've heard talk about plans, strategies, heading west to the Range, this and that. I'm saying we're keeping our move up and trying to make it as far west as possible. It takes awhile to move this many people and keep them safe, or at least try to.”

  I winced at that part about ‘keeping people safe’, at least he had the sense to qualify that.

  He glanced over his shoulder. “We're also trying to get as many to escape Lebabolis.” His eyes slid to me when he added, “And everyone they took back from us.”

  My mind still puzzled about why the Radomet had stolen our sick. No one I asked knew. Maybe it was for human collateral, so we were lured into the open? Or was it for more of their experiments. My mind shuddered at the thought. It was bad enough that every Lebabolis citizen slept connected to the Link each night.

  “What about Cataclysm?” I asked.

  Baudricort’s eyes widened. Even if I derailed what he was about to say, it felt good. I bet these guys and everyone else wondered the same thing. “I’ve seen nothing that indicates Cataclysm has begun again, and we are keeping an eye on that. So far, that threat is minimal, and that’s also part of why I’m moving us to the Range. And of course, getting out the way of these raids. Now if you’ll wait a second, I’ll tell you why you’re here.”

  He leaned against the wall next to the screen and folded his arms. Whenever he did that I remembered the last time I saw him with my parents. They had a long talk, and he had his arms folded the entire time. Soon after that, I never saw my folks again.

  “What I'm about to say doesn't leave this room.”

  The others at the table shared glances.

  Baudricort tapped more controls and a picture appeared over the maps: a man in his late twenties. Smoky brown hair and deep hazel eyes. He looked pensive.

  “Who knows about Xander?”

  We all raised our hands.

  Baudricort smirked, and faced the screen again. “So you paid attention in Lebabolis instruction. Yep, Xander. The prophet of Lebabolis. The man who wrote the book that Lebabolis believes is our future.” He paused then corrected himself. “Their future.”

  Of course we knew Xander. Every Product in Lebabolis was sent to Instruction from the age of five, and one of the first things they hammered into our brains was about Xander, who years ago had written about this great society that saved humanity from destruction.

  Then there were the Prophecy Centers that people attended and praised Xander. I went to services, like everyone was required to. Some people looked forward to them, I just felt empty before and afterward.

  Remy said, “I’ve heard the regular messages through the Link. Is there anything special we haven't been told yet?”

  Baudricort replied, “I'm not interested in what Lebabolis says about Xander.” He studied the picture for a moment, and swiveled back to us quick.

  “I'm sending one of you to meet him.”

  I swallowed hard.

  Meet Xander? But that meant the Verge.

  The Verge wasn't new but it was new to me. What I knew about it was a mixture of hearsay, speculation, and a little impossibility too. The story I had heard was the areas with high concentrations of Valentium around opened up these pockets in time.

  The first few were found by accident. Several people slipped through while they harvested Valentium. A few less came back. A little while later, Intellectual Products figured how to control the access and return.

  “Are we delivering a message, sir?” asked Remy.

  Baudricort shook his head. “We need to bring him here.”

  Remy looked around the table, his eyes glowered through blonde tousled bangs. Something about him struck me, like I'd seen him somewhere years back, but it hadn’t registered from where yet. He shot me a look every now and then, as if I was an insect he needed squished. Whatever it was about, I was glad I was a pain in his ass for whichever reason his thin brain decided.

  Yag, on my left, scratched his chin. His broad shoulders moved as he took a thoughtful breath. “All this time I thought he was a myth.”

  Baudricort paused. “No, he's very much real.”

  “Sir, with respect, what are we hoping to accomplish?” Remy asked.

  Baudricort frowned. “Lebabolis wants us all back. They’re facing this enemy, the Omegans, and they need every able-bodied Product. They seem to think that Xander will give them more leverage. They want to fan the flames around that whole belief system and stop those leaving through Exodus. It's their best play, so I want to get him first so no one else uses Xander to communicate on the Link to everyone in Lebabolis. This way, we get to set the message.”

  The Link was what every Lebabolis citizen wore on their head when they slept. It fed us information like work assignments, but it also gave us information about the state of Lebabolis and how good everything was. Whatever they wanted came through the Link. And to most people, it was rock solid truth.

  “Haven't the hacks to the Link been working?” Remy asked.

  “Some,” Baudricort replied. “Our moles are getting more people to stop using it, but it's taking too long. We need to step it up before they end us.”

  Remy motioned to me. “Why is she here?”

  I eyed Remy, and Baudricort responded, “What's that?”

  Remy's eyes darted between Baudricort and me. “Well, I understand you've got the Warrior Products for security. So what's she got to offer?”

  Baudricort drew his lips in a straight line and took a deep nasal breath. His jaw clenched in thought, and thrust his chest toward Remy. “You forget who's running things, boy? Well, let me clear it up for you. I'm in charge. I'm the one who’s getting us to safety, so you better listen to what Otto and I have to say; it might come in handy for you very soon,” he snapped.

  Remy shook his head and snorted.

  Oh.

  That snort reminded me of who Remy was. He busted that aggravating nasal sound out back in Instruction when he was this mealy little Intellectual Product. He always ratted on other kids for misbehavior so he looked better in front of the teachers, and he was put first in every good thing possible. I narrowed my eyes at him. Lemme just show you what I can do, little boy.

  “So Xander, how do we get him to come here?” Wick asked.

  Baudricort produced a book. As he rifled through it, a little dust launched into the room. “You're too young to remember books, I'm sure, unless you've seen the caches.” He nodded at me, and I smiled at the mention of caches. I stumbled upon one of ‘em with Treg. Ancient containers of artifacts from centuries ago. I always wondered who put ‘em there, and
why.

  Baudricort said, “This book is what Xander's prophecies in Lebabolis Deism are based on.” He handed it to Yag, and we passed it around. While it was very faded, I made out the title, Cataclysm Epoch, and a name on the cover: "Xander Lee". I had seen a few books in the cache, but none like this. It had an awful rotten smell to it. I ran my fingers over the coarse pages that felt dust covered. There they were, words that people spoke about Xander and what Lebabolis was for us and the world.

  “You'll need to explain to Xander, best you can, that we need his help. We're sending one of you through the Verge to get him.” Baudricort added, “Once you convince him to come back, place the tether bracelet for the Verge on his wrist and return. Remember, like you he can’t travel through the Verge without wearing a tether or he’ll be lost in time forever. Locate beacons and rendezvous at Encampment 13, medical will be ready.”

  “Bringing someone forward in a Verge from their base time, has that ever even happened?” Wick asked. The thick muscles on his arms flexed on the table as he spoke, and it almost looked like his arms were the only thing that kept the table on the floor.

  “No. And under normal circumstances, I wouldn't even consider it. But we all saw what happened. Lebabolis is stepping up their patrols on every Encampment. We'll keep moving west, but we've still got a long way to go, and that means more Valentium and supply runs. Sooner or later, we'll run out of luck again.”

  Baudricort showed the Verge location for our mission on the map. It was in a large group of trees on a hill. If it was guarded from a distance, we’d have known easily, he explained. While Lebabolis sent their patrols where the larger groups would be like the Encampments, Valentium sites were always important.

  He turned to us. “Remy, you're the Verge jumper. Otto's gonna brief you on details of the period and as much as we know about Xander, which isn't a whole lot.” His lips drew in a grim smile. “Yag, Wick, your job is to get Remy to the Verge. No matter what. Got me?”