32

The hopper rattled and the green hills of upstate New York slid by the open side door. The Empire State base commanding officer had given me leave and let me borrow a hopper piloted by a newly promoted human pilot.

The Accordance was getting nervous, I thought, if they were letting us fly craft now.

I ran a hand down my uniform grays with the single red bar of command on my right shoulder.

What could I tell them about my decision to accept command and collaborate with the enemy?

I understood my father’s desire to escape the occupation. I’d seen his desire to see people freed burn inside him since I was a child.

They’d hate what I represented. They would turn their back on me. It would hurt.

But that didn’t mean I didn’t want to see them.

In some ways, this upcoming visit might end up being the most alien encounter I’d had yet since joining the Colonial Protection Forces.

A long streak of lightning danced across the blue sky. A slow pinprick of light unfurled into a flower of fire that hung in place.

“Lieutenant,” the pilot called back at me. “Did you see that?”

“That’s orbital,” I shouted back. “You hearing anything?”

“Chatter, nothing official.” The hopper flared and slowed, spiraling down to land near a road leading into a forest. We arrived at the property my parents had just been moved to. A pair of guards at the end of the road walked toward the hopper as the skids hit gravel.

More pinpricks blossomed in the sky.

“That looks serious,” the pilot shouted. “That looks really serious.”

“It’s probably automated Conglomerate probes against the orbital forts,” I said.

“Someone just said the space station got hit. It’s lost.” The Accordance had refused to put protection around the creaky old human station. Not a military asset or necessity.

Gravel spat against the side of the hopper as the engines pounded at the road.

I looked down the road and bit my lip. “Take us up,” I ordered. “Get me to the Hamptons.”

The hopper scraped along the road and then got airborne with a screech of power.

My earpiece buzzed. I glanced at my wrist and accepted the call. Only one person would be using an unlisted contact to try to reach me.

Amira’s voice filled my right ear suddenly. “Hey, Devlin, you seeing all this?”

“Where have you been?” I asked.

She moved past the question. “I just talked to Ken. The Accordance is mobilizing the CPF. No more shipping us off to other worlds, everything is getting set up to fight right here in our own solar system.”

“You said ‘us.’ I thought you’d left.”

“I wanted a vacation without anyone giving me orders,” Amira said. “Consider it personal leave. They owe me that, after everything they’ve done. But as much as I hate the Accordance, Devlin, the Conglomeration is worse. You know that.”

“I do,” I said. “I already agreed to stay in. I’ve been helping recruit—”

“I know, you’ve been bunking down at the Empire State barracks. I’m in New Haven, coordinates in a few minutes once I pick a spot. Come pick me up.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said crisply.

“Fuck you,” she said conversationally. Then hesitated. “Make sure you arm up. People around here don’t react well to seeing CPF.”

She cut the connection. My wrist buzzed and displayed the coordinates.

The hopper curved around a foothill, and the road leading back toward my parents disappeared.