Psion Delta (46 page)

Before
he’d even counted, he knew some people were missing.

“Antonio,
Kobe, and Kaden,” Li told him when he asked. “All dead.”

Each
name punched Sammy in the gut. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Your
parents weren’t even there, were they?”

“No.”

Li
smacked his arm rest with his fist. “What a joke! This whole thing was a joke!”

“It’s
much worse now,” Sammy said. “They—the CAG—the Thirteens attacked Beta
headquarters. Alpha headquarters. The Elite. Everything. They attacked
everywhere. I saw footage of it. It’s a warzone. We can’t go back.”

“How
do you know that wasn’t another trick?” Li asked.

“I—I
don’t know for sure. But one of the buildings they destroyed was the Beta
building. The news showed multiple strike zones. It looked legit.”

“Where
else can we go?” Ludwig asked.

Sammy
had no idea. “Commander Byron is probably dead. Al, my Squadron, Tawhiri, Psion
Command, all of them. . . . ” His own words overwhelmed him to the point of
hopelessness. Life without Byron seemed unthinkable. The commander’s family had
only recently been reunited with his parents. It wasn’t fair.

Glasgow
, a
voice said to him. He said the name aloud to Ludwig.

“What?
Glasgow? What’s that? Where’s that?”

“I
don’t know. Put it into the computer. Glasgow. It’s the only place I can think
of where we might be safe.”

Sammy
got up from his seat.

“What
are you doing?” Ludwig asked.

“I’m
going to check on Jeffie.”

“We
still have questions,” Li said.

“They
can wait.”

Kawai
and Brickert were in the back tending to Jeffie.

“She’s
in a lot of pain,” Kawai said. “I haven’t done much first aid training yet.”

“We
did what we could for her,” Brickert added, “which was really only giving her
blood and putting the orange stuff on . . . and a bandage.”

Sammy
asked them to move to the front so he had room to work. Then he pulled out a
curtain that acted as a partition between the medic area and the rest of the
cruiser. Sammy took the bandages off to examine her wounds. As he pulled off
the tape, Jeffie winced and opened her eyes. She didn’t speak, but watched his
face while he searched through the medical kit for the supplies he wanted. He injected
her thigh with an anesthetic and then gave her an antibiotic. She didn’t react
at all to the shots. With a long metal instrument, Sammy dug into the wound and
removed the bullet.
It missed her femoral artery. Thank you, God.
Jeffie
still watched him while he worked, tears leaking from her eyes.

“You
shouldn’t be feeling any pain now,” he told her. “Where does it hurt?”

She
tapped her chest with a finger. Sammy indicated that he understood. He put the
extracted bullet into her hand, and she closed her fist around it. After
rinsing the wound, he injected more orange goo into her flesh and compressed it
for several seconds. Finally, satisfied that he’d done the best he could, Sammy
put new bandaging on and covered her leg.

“Thank
you,” she whispered.

“I’m
sorry about Kobe,” he told her as he brushed her hair back from her face. “I
know what you’re feeling right now.”

“I
know you do.”

For
the first time in his life, Sammy felt a small measure of gratitude for all the
horrors he’d witnessed. “Do you want to be alone?” he asked. Her eyes slowly
moved from the floor to Sammy’s face.

“No,”
she mouthed.

Sammy
knelt next to her and held her hand. They didn’t speak. Sammy sensed that she
appreciated him knowing exactly what she was going through. He had experienced
so much loss already. And while he felt terrible guilt for the deaths of his
friends, he was also strangely comforted knowing that Jeffie understood him
better.

“It’s
not your fault,” she whispered. “If what you say is true—if you hadn’t let us
come with you. . . . ”

“It
doesn’t make me feel better,” he said. “I don’t know why, but it doesn’t.”

“What
else is it?” she asked in the same weak voice. “There’s something more, isn’t
there?” Sammy brushed her hair out of her face and kissed her forehead. Jeffie slipped
her hand into his. “Tell me.”

“I
will,” he promised, “but not right now. Soon, though, okay?”

She
blinked at him. “Sammy—the Thirteens in the garage—they all looked like you.”

“Like
me?”

“Not
exactly. They all looked the same, and I could see your face in theirs.”

He
squeezed her hand tightly and felt her return the pressure. When she fell
asleep, he returned to the cockpit with Ludwig and Li. Li told Sammy about the
battle in the garage, how Antonio had lost his cool, and how Kobe and Kaden had
died. Sammy took in all the details, especially the ones about the Hybrids the
fox had mentioned.

“They
really did look like you, Sammy,” Li said. “Not perfect clones or anything, but
like they could be your brother or something.”

“What
about you, Ludwig?” Sammy asked.

“We
waited on the roof of the tower across the street. We had one pair of
binoculars on the garage waiting for Li and everyone to come back out. The
other pair was on that window. I watched you the whole time.”

“It’s
my fault,” Sammy groaned. “It’s all my fault.”

“No,
man,” Ludwig said. “If what you said is true, we all owe you a huge thanks that
we’re still alive.”

Sammy
heard the words, but it still did not make him feel better. They flew in
silence for a long while. The stealth cruiser had to fly at low speeds to not
be spotted. It was still dark when they landed outside the town of Glasgow.
Ludwig set the ship down in a field of tall grass that Sammy thought might have
once been a baseball field.

“I
don’t think we’re in the right place,” Miguel said. “You sure about this?”

“No,
I’m not,” Sammy said. “I’ve never been here.”

Li
opened the door and got out with his gun in his right hand.

“Drop
the weapon!” an unseen voice called out. “Drop it now!”

Li’s
hand jerked skyward. “Okay! Don’t shoot! I’m putting it down now.”

“Your
cruiser is surrounded. Each of you get out of the vehicle, turn around, and get
on your knees!”

Sammy
still couldn’t see the source of the voice. Suddenly it seemed very possible
that the CAG had discovered the resistance in the last several weeks and set up
traps to catch more people sympathetic to the cause. He climbed out of the
cruiser on the other side. Keeping his hands raised high above his head, he
stepped forward.

“We’re
looking for Thomas and Lara Byron. We are friends of the resistance. My name is
Samuel Berhane.”

About
ten people emerged from the grass, all holding assault rifles. “Yes, I remember
you,” one man said, “from the meeting in Wichita.”

Another
man behind the first asked, “You escaped all that madness on Capitol Island?
The bombings over there and whatnot, did you?”

Sammy
could see the other Psions looking at him. “No, we weren’t involved with that.
But we can’t go back there, either. Can we meet with Thomas and Lara?”

In
minutes, three cars came to pick up the Betas. Sammy carried Jeffie and laid
her gently inside the same one he rode in. Their small caravan drove down into
dark underground roads until the small town of Glasgow was above them. They
pulled into a small cave where several more cars were parked. The drivers of
the cars led them upstairs into the kitchen of a small home, a sharp contrast
from the magnificent museum where the Byrons used to live. Lara and Thomas came
into the room as soon as the door opened. Lara threw herself onto Sammy.

“You’re
alive!” she cried, petting Sammy on the back of the head like he was her own
grandson. “I can’t believe it. You are a miracle, Sammy.” The strain was
visible in her voice and on Thomas’ face. Sammy knew what they were thinking.

“We
haven’t heard anything yet from Walter or Al,” he told Sammy. “But we’re
optimistic.” He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “Everything’s going
to be fine.”

“Everyone
needs to come inside now,” Lara said. “We’ll figure out what to do and where to
sort you so you can get rest.”

All
eleven of them headed into the modest living room, Sammy again carrying Jeffie.
His body was exhausted, but he refused to let anyone else do it for him. The
house was small, but cozy and clean. Some sat on furniture, others on the
floor, while Thomas began making calls to arrange places for the Psions to
sleep. Lara prepared hot drinks and snacks and carried them out on a giant
tray. Everyone accepted her offerings gratefully.

About
ten minutes later, Thomas finished his calls. “We heard about everything
minutes after it happened—before the news even picked it up. We get a few
illegal NWG channels, but so far we aren’t hearing anything we haven’t learned
from the CAG reporters.”

Sammy
looked at Jeffie sipping her cup of cocoa with large, blank eyes. He noticed
Lara watching him, and she gave him a sad smile.

“I’m
sure the commander’s going to be okay,” he told Lara quietly. She responded by
patting his hand and kissing it tenderly.

Around
the room, several of the Psions were beginning to doze off. Natalia’s head
rested on Brickert’s chest while his head bobbed on top of hers. Parley was
already asleep, and Rosa and Miguel were nodding off. Everyone else seemed
wide-awake, but no one knew what to say.

“You
are all welcome to sit here as long as you want,” Thomas said. “When you’re
ready for a comfortable bed, let me know and I’ll show you to one. And don’t
feel like you have to talk, either. There’ll be time enough for that later.”

“Oh,
Thomas, look!” Lara said, pointing at the screen.

Appearing
on the holo-screen was the NWG President. Sammy hadn’t paid much attention to
him before, but he did now. He was an older man, his skin very dark and his
hair very white. In the deep lines of his face, Sammy saw the same weight and
sadness that he, too, carried at that moment. The president stood in a small
room flanked by a NWG flag on his right and his wife on his left. Sammy guessed
the president was probably in a makeshift conference room in the War Offices
deep under the earth. There was no podium in front of him, no seal, just him,
his wife, and a flag. He wore a suit that didn’t quite fit him. He had deep
bags under his eyes and no smile.

When
he stared at the camera, his eyes were filled with emotion, and Sammy felt as
if they were talking face to face. Thomas quickly turned up the sound and
everyone in the room woke.

“My
fellow citizens of the New World Government. Today we suffered the greatest
tragedy in the history of our young nation. American forces invaded our lands
and attacked our soil. The losses we have suffered are limited almost
exclusively to our nation’s military and government, but each of those lives
represents a father, a mother, a husband, a wife, a son, a daughter, a sister,
a brother, or a friend. We have confirmed the deaths of over four thousand
lives, and, sadly, that number continues to climb. We honor those who have
fallen for they gave their lives for our cause of freedom.

“In
the next days, I will address this situation in greater detail. I will also
give more plans for action, but today—right now—I have only one desire, and
that is to put down the rumors that I am considering a surrender to the
Continental American Government. Nothing could be further from the truth! This
is not the time for cowardice or negotiations. This is not the time to wave
white flags. As long as I am your president, I will fight to the last man. To
do anything else would be a terrible waste of those lives lost today. I pray
that we are united in this goal. We fight on for our families, for our
liberties, and for our lives.

“I
call upon every able man and woman to take up our cause. I do not know what
lies ahead in these troublesome times, but I do know they will be dark, perhaps
our darkest and most difficult. I also know that they will be followed by our
brightest days. I know whatever challenges we face we can overcome if that is
the will of our people. Our will must be stronger than any power that can be
thrown against us. I plead with you to stand against our enemies with me. Fight
our enemies with me. Ours is the cause of justice. Ours is the cause of right.
We will press onward with faith in a power greater than any one man or any one
army. God bless this nation—a family of nations—and each of you in this great
struggle. Good night.”

THE END

AFTERWORD

To my
Fellow Bookworms,

Thank
you for sticking with the
Psion
series through three books. When I first
self-published
Psion Beta
, I had high hopes, but low expectations. The
success the books have earned so far has been wonderful. I owe many thanks to
you for your kind reviews, word-of-mouth-marketing, and continued enthusiasm. I
have received hundreds of emails, Facebook messages, positive reviews, and
other tokens of appreciation for the books, and that has made all the headache
of self-publication worthwhile.

There
are two more books to come in this series:
Psion Alpha
and
Psion
Omega.
I will be working on those books soon (if I’m not already when you
read this). For those of you who just can’t wait to read more, I would
recommend that you try a new series I launched this summer:
The
Storyteller’s Tale
. The first volume is called
Flight from Blithmore
.
It is a departure from the genre in which I normally write. No magic, no
sci-fi, but it is a fun, epic adventure series which I know you’ll enjoy.

Please
take a chance on it and visit
www.blithmore.com
.

Of
course, writing two series will probably add some delays to my publication
schedule, but I’m optimistic that the books will be worth the work and worth
your wait. And don’t worry, the
Psion
books are still my top priority.
Feel free to contact me via my new website:
www.jacobgowans.com
, like
me on Facebook, or follow me on Twitter. I look forward to hearing from you,
and I always try to respond, even to those who try to tell me what to write
next.

Best
wishes to you,

Jacob
Gowans

P.S.
Long Live Sammy!