MILO JETSTREAM WAS BUZZED OUT of his mind by Eve’s blood but in a good way. If he had to remain a vampire forever, things might get interesting.
He saw everything clear as day even with his eyes closed. And the aura around Warren seemed to forecast the clone’s actions by a full second. You’re about to scratch your nose. Again. Do I do that a lot? Could get very interesting. Ram would definitely want to study the effects. A pre-ordained shadow world? Thought visually manifested as action creating action?
I wonder how long this will last?
“Morning soon,” said Warren.
“Stop asking me about plans.”
It was dark in the box. Both of them liked it like that. “You expect to simply walk out of here?”
“I expect to ride. Ram should be here with a rover.”
“Ramses doesn’t belong in this world.”
“I know. He knows.”
“Not like Ms. Carel. She maintains not belonging everywhere.”
“You noticed that?”
“She told me.”
It was like talking to one’s self. Milo asked, “Can I ask you about Bubba Foom?”
Warren was silent long enough for it to register as assent.
“What did it feel like, releasing to someone else’s control?”
“I’d rather not answer,” said Warren. “Ramses warned me you might get jealous. Said you might be out of sorts.”
“Did he? Well, he is our brother.”
“Yes.”
“Notice I said ‘our.’”
Warren smiled in the darkness. “Yes.”
“Can’t fault circumstances of birth,” Milo said with a grunt.
When their ride arrived a few hours later Milo saw it was Sereda and not Ramses. Their rover zoomed away from several millions dollars worth of Nonrich Corp personnel and assets.
“What’s Ram done?” Milo asked.
“He’s counting coup with Leviathan.” Sereda kept her eyes focused out the windshield. Milo Jetstream angry was generally…unpleasant.
“Son of a,” he muttered. “Where?”
“Deep ocean,” said the green angel. “Both ships are out there.”
“I need to get out there. How many jumps will it take for you to get us to the Capital port?” he asked Warren.
“As few as I can make it.”
“You strong enough for it?” Milo asked.
“Not a concern.”
Milo turned to Sereda. “Get Shig to get us a boat, fastest they’ve got, engine running, please.”
“There’s a pack in the back,” she said.
There were multiple packs. He tossed one to Warren.
“Who’s on the ships?” Milo asked.
“Guerris, Fiona, Eloa and Ra’asiel. And the clones.”
“Why’s Guerris on the ship?” The landscape outside couldn’t whiz by any faster.
“Because he’s never seen Leviathan and figures if this is do or die…”
And that would have been the only reason Ramses would have agreed.
“Pull over.” The rover fried air coming to a halt. He and Warren exited. “Get word to Ram I’m on my way. I don’t want to distract him. Comm stays open. Let me know where Shig’s parked my boat.” He and Warren clasped forearms. “Do it,” he said to his clone. They disappeared.
Reappeared.
Disappeared.
Reappeared. Warren trembled.
Disappeared.
Reappeared several dozens of yards above the ground, falling fast. Warren hugged Milo to him and immediately teleported. Both rolled and tumbled when their feet hit the ground.
“Sereda!”
“Dock twenty-seven, forward harbor.”
They disappeared.
Warren collapsed on the deck of the boat. Milo blessed Sereda for having coordinates and plot laid in. Shig had arranged a Stinger for them: ships used for emergency purposes. Milo’d never seen one in use, much less piloted one. He apologized to the sleek ship for the hell it was about to go through.
“Warren, you OK?” Milo shouted over the wind.
From the one knee he had under him, Warren nodded.
“Rest a bit.”
Warren nodded again.
“’Cause I’m gonna need you to move a boat.”