Milo was impressed with the organization on the planet; already, considerable work had been done. As far as he was aware—though he hadn’t been down on the surface of Trakis Two—they hadn’t built anything yet. Kinross clearly had a detailed plan and was moving ahead with it. Milo had seen various groups at work around the place, presumably Chosen Ones. Making roads and buildings. The work groups reminded him of prison gangs back on Earth and were supervised by armed guards in dark green jumpsuits.
Where had the guards come from?
Kinross was clearly ready for trouble. But how ready?
They needed to find out what other weapons he had brought with him from Earth. And the most obvious place to start looking was the Trakis Four.
“Be quick,” Dylan muttered. “We’re already late.”
Milo nodded and headed up the ramp that led to the docking bay. There was no guard, and the door slid open when he pressed his hand to the panel, so he was unsurprised when he entered the cavernous space only to find it empty, except for the two shuttles parked up against the far curved wall and something that looked like a rocket launcher, which didn’t bode well. No weapons, but then Kinross would hardly leave weapons out in the open for anyone to see.
“They’ve cleared it out,” he said to Dylan as he walked back down. “Though there is some sort of rocket launcher—a fucking big one. We have to presume that somewhere there are some fucking big rockets to go with it.”
Dylan raised a brow. “Nice.”
“Now we need to find out where they’ve stored them and anything else Kinross brought from Earth.”
“After the meeting.”
A boat was waiting at the small dock to take them across to the island, and they climbed on board.
“It’s like a goddamn castle,” Dylan said five minutes later, as the boat docked on the island. “I’m guessing Kinross has delusions of grandeur.”
A tall man in a dark green jumpsuit stood at the door. “You need to hand over your weapons,” he said.
“Why?” Dylan asked.
“Because there are no weapons allowed in HQ. This is a friendly meeting; you won’t need a gun.”
“What about yours?” Dylan nodded to the pistol at the man’s waist.
The man didn’t reply, just stood blocking the entrance.
With a sigh, Milo unstrapped his holster and handed it over. After some grumbling, Dylan did the same.
“Across the hall and through the double doors opposite,” the man said, waving them through.
Milo followed the directions and stepped through the doors—then came to a standstill.
The room was huge and round, with a high ceiling and arched windows. A large, circular table took up most of the space, with chairs all around. Most of them were occupied.
“Perhaps you should have put on a uniform,” Dylan murmured from beside him. “You know, so you fit in.”
Milo glanced down at his jeans and T-shirt. He supposed Dylan was right, though fitting in had never been his strong suit. Most of the people in the room were wearing some variation of the uniform of the crew of the Trakis fleet. Black pants tucked into black boots, and various colors of shirts—depending on their rank and position on the ships. Dylan wore a yellow shirt, which apparently meant he was second-in-command. There were a couple of greens denoting ships’ captains. A few blues and more yellows. And most of the people looked old. He and Dylan were the exception.
By his reckoning there should be sixteen representatives in total.
On the trip over, Dylan had brought him up to speed on what had gone on over the past five hundred years. Although twenty-four ships set off from Earth, twelve of them had quickly gone in an entirely different direction and they’d lost contact after a few years. Of the remaining twelve, two additional ships were lost: the Trakis Eight and Nine. One had hit an asteroid and exploded. The other suffered a life support malfunction and everyone died. Then, of course, the Trakis Three was blown up and the Trakis One had dived into a black hole. That left eight ships. Two representatives from each. He counted—only twelve people around the table. Add in him and Dylan and it looked like the Council for the Advancement of Mankind was two representatives short.
At the far side of the table, there were two vacant seats next to each other, and he and Dylan made their way across the room, his skin twitching as all eyes focused on them.
While the table was round, it was clear who sat at the head. All the chairs were identical, except for one directly opposite where Milo now sat—it was bigger, the back reaching upward like some sort of throne. The man sitting in it was blond with piercing blue eyes. He was also the only other person at the table who was not in uniform.
This must be Luther Kinross, the man responsible for arranging the meeting.
At that moment, Kinross rose to his feet. He was a tall man who exuded a presence. Milo took an instant dislike to him, but that was pretty much normal. He didn’t like many people.
“Welcome to Trakis Four and the initial meeting of the Council for the Advancement of Mankind. Thank you for taking the time to attend. I hope we will all find it beneficial. First though, I think we need to take a moment to pray for the tragic loss of the Trakis One and all on board. And to that purpose, I will hand you over to Captain Aaron Sekongo of the Trakis Four, and the new head of the Church of Everlasting Life.”
“Brilliant,” Milo muttered. “Have I mentioned I hate the goddamned church?”
“You have.”
The man in the seat next to Kinross rose to his feet. Tall, he wore a red shirt, and he had dark brown skin and dark brown eyes.
“Let us pray.”
Everyone bowed their heads, except Milo and—he noticed—Kinross. The other man caught his gaze and raised an eyebrow.
Milo let the words wash over him as he worked out a plan of action. They needed to discover where the cargo of the Trakis Four was being stored. What, if any, weapons Kinross had access to. He was guessing that if there were weapons then they would likely be stored in this building. So he needed to do a search.
Finally, the prayer ended.
“May God have mercy on their souls,” Sekongo said.
“Amen,” everyone replied collectively.
Sekongo sat down and Kinross spoke again. “We owe it to all those who lost their lives to make the survival of humanity our priority, so their sacrifice will not have been in vain.”
Beside him, Dylan gave a snort of disbelief. “Sacrifice? It was hardly voluntary.”
“In these sad times,” Kinross continued, “we need to come together and work as a team. We all need to understand our strengths, and our roles, if we’re going to succeed.”