Destiny’s eyes pricked, but she stared straight ahead as Dr. Yang stepped out. The door slid shut, and Destiny was left alone. Sinking to the floor, she hugged her knees to her chest and stared at the closed door. She didn’t need to try it to know it was locked.
She had a role to play. She was special. Important.
She wasn’t a prisoner. They were just keeping her safe.
Chapter Three
“On what slender threads do life and fortune hang…!”
—Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo
“Lead the way,” Milo said, then followed the werewolves between the rows of cryotubes. All the tubes still contained their sleeping cargo—he could make out their blurred faces through the panels on the upper surface.
While the air smelled slightly stale as if it had been around too long—like five hundred years too long—it was perfectly breathable, though with a faint metallic taint. He saw no one else.
As they reached a set of double doors, they halted, and Dylan pressed his palm to the panel on the wall beside them. The doors slid open, and they entered a corridor, silver curved walls and yellow light. Too bright after the dimness of the cryo-room. He blinked until his eyes adjusted and looked around, although there was little to see, then hurried to catch up with the wolves.
They eventually halted in front of another set of doors. Dylan opened them in the same way as the others and then waved for Milo to enter.
This was a big circular room with blank screens on the wall all around. The bridge, no doubt. In the center of the room, Rico sat in what Milo presumed was the captain’s chair, an impressive array of buttons and panels on the seat arms.
The vampire twirled, then pressed one of the buttons and the screens came to life. Whatever they were showing was dark, and he could make out nothing.
“Welcome to Trakis Two,” Rico said, waving his hand at the screens.
“I thought we were on the Trakis Two?”
“We are. It was suggested that each planet take the name of the ship that lands on it. Hence, as we are on the Trakis Two, that’s now also the name of the planet.”
Milo stepped closer to one of the screens. “It’s pretty dark out there.”
“It’s always dark out there. Don’t you love it? Of course, the other side of the planet is always light.”
Milo thought for a moment. “It doesn’t rotate on its axis?”
“Clever boy,” Rico said. “I knew I was right to wake you. Just the man we need for the job.”
Milo thought about pointing out that he was far from a boy. When they’d boarded the ship, he’d been about forty years younger than Rico, an insignificant amount when you considered they had both been close to five hundred years old. Though Rico must be twice that now, presuming he’d been awake since they left Earth.
“What job?” he asked.
“Curb your impatience. We’re just waiting on the others.” He pressed a different button, then spoke into some sort of comm unit. “Katia, get your ass out of bed and to the bridge now. And bring Logan.”
He waved a hand toward a seating area that contained a table with eight chairs. Milo sat down, and Rico took the chair opposite, Dylan the one next to him. Rico reached beneath the table and pulled out a bottle and three glasses. Suddenly, Milo was very thirsty.
After pouring the amber liquid, Rico pushed one glass across the table to Milo. He picked it up and sniffed—it smelled like scotch—then he swallowed it in one go and nearly choked.
“Jesus. What is that stuff?” His throat was on fire.
“Home brew—I had to do something useful while all you lazy bastards were asleep.”
“You’ve been awake the whole time?” Milo rasped.
“Every single day.”
He held out his glass, and Rico refilled it. Milo sat back in his chair and studied the vampire. “So, you drugged me and brought me here against my will?”
“You were being stubborn. What was I supposed to do? Leave you to your dreams of revenge until the Earth imploded and you died? Your mother would roll in her grave.”
Not possible. As far as he was aware, his mother didn’t have a grave. There hadn’t been enough left of her to bury. But he’d only been six at the time of her death, so the details were sketchy.
“Do we know what happened to Earth?”
“No clue,” Rico said. “The fleet lost contact after a few years.”
Damn. He would have liked to know what had become of the planet. And he would really like to know whether a few old acquaintances were really gone for good. Milo had spent most of his life hunting down his father, seeking for a way to destroy him. Not really revenge—whatever Rico said—more a service to the rest of the world. His father was pure evil. But even if the Earth hadn’t been destroyed, his father was beyond his reach now. Five hundred years and God knows how many millions of miles beyond his reach.
He blew out his breath. It wouldn’t surprise him to discover that Rico had brought him along on this trip for that precise purpose. Rico had long claimed that Milo’s obsession with his father was unhealthy, and that if you made your life about revenge, even if you succeeded, you would be left with nothing. And in some ways, he was right. The search had consumed Milo. So what the hell was he supposed to do now?
“Did all the ships make it?” he asked.
“Not all, no.”
The plan had been for twenty-four ships to leave the Earth. Each carrying ten thousand Chosen Ones. People selected through a lottery process to ensure the survival of humanity. Except the lottery hadn’t been open to everyone—Milo had certainly not received a ticket. So Rico had decided that wasn’t really fair and arranged to exchange half the Chosen Ones on the Trakis Two for people…or whatever…of his own choosing. Milo didn’t know the details, but he suspected it hadn’t gone well for the Chosen Ones involved.
A small, slender woman with black hair and green eyes entered the bridge, followed closely by a tall guy with blond hair and strange, almost purple eyes.
Rico waved a hand toward them. “Katia you know, and this is her friend, Sergeant Logan Farrell of the New World Army.”
He nodded to Katia as she took a seat next to Rico and her friend took the chair on the other side of her. Katia was a werecat who’d worked for Rico a while back. Milo liked her as much as he liked anyone. Her “friend” appeared to be a fairly new werewolf. A strange combination, though they were obviously a couple. There was a sense of closeness to them.
“There’s a New World Army?” he asked.
Katia grabbed a couple of glasses from under the table and poured herself and Logan a drink. “There was,” she said. “Logan here is the sole surviving member. The rest were on the Trakis One when she dived headfirst into a black hole.”