oodwin was barely in his plush Durall seat when the Galejet screamed away from its launch pad. He felt the crush of speed and clutched the armrests until his knuckles went white. The dark cherry interior of the aircraft glowed as raging fires shone through the windows.

He could hear the directors muttering behind him, quietly conspiring. Goodwin looked out the glass porthole.

A massive crater vomiting black smoke blotted out the glimmers of dawn. The Covenant’s detonation had triggered a chain reaction in the Armory, vaporizing a quarter of the stronghold. Most of the towers on that side were gone, toppled or blown to pieces, while the others shriveled like the curled-up legs of a dead insect. The CHAR was devouring the Citadel from the inside out, its gold metal core bubbling, sagging. The melted mehkan bodies that formed its cruel façade sloughed off and oozed down the sides.

Kallorax’s ancient palace, this ageless blot upon the landscape, sank in upon itself like a carcass putrefying. The upper stories containing the Foundry’s luxurious complex of suites and lounges collapsed with a groaning crash so loud Goodwin felt it through his seat.

The Foundry had extensive evacuation plans, and its employees were highly trained experts, all prepared for emergency. Behemoth Cargoliners stocked with munitions, files, equipment, and platoons of Watchmen raced across the dead lands in all directions. Legions of Aero-copters crammed with personnel hovered like flies over a mound of filth. Despite the efficiency of their escape, he knew lives had been lost. No telling how many.

Goodwin’s chest felt tight. He needed a drink. Just as he was about to order a Watchman to fetch one, he was summoned.

“James.”

He steeled himself and strode to the back of the Galejet. The five representatives of the Board were silhouettes blending in with the Durall couches. Their faces were steeped in shadow, their silver earpieces glinting in the flash of an occasional explosion outside.

Goodwin stood before them, his hands behind his back.

“You are an embarrassment,” Director Obwilé stated.

“Our primary infrastructure in Mehk lies in ruins because of you,” Director Layton snarled. “Research, personnel, facilities, resources. All gone. All due to your incompetence.”

Goodwin puffed up his chest. “You listen to me. I will not stand for—”

“You cannot possibly meet the commitment to Trelaine now,” growled Director Malcolm, his affable demeanor gone. “Lavaraud will realize this before the week is out. Your failure to deliver will be taken as a direct provocation.”

“War,” spat Director Layton. “That’s what you have brought upon us.”

“This is a serious setback,” he conceded, “but one that—”

“That you may not get the chance to rectify,” cut in Director Obwilé.

“You…dare threaten me?”

“Remember your place,” intoned Director Layton.

The Chairman blinked and regained his cool.

“Forgive me, but these events, they are not my doing.”

“Perhaps not,” Director Obwilé agreed. “But they will be your undoing.”

“I’m not to blame!” He loathed the naked plea in his own voice. “No one saw this attack coming. I went above and beyond the call of duty, I did everything I possibly could—surely you see that. If it wasn’t for Plumm, I’d—”

“Plumm!” jeered Director Malcolm. “The man you hired? The one you personally brought up through the ranks despite our concerns? And all because you had a feeling about him?”

“The Board does not tolerate failure,” stated Director Layton flatly. Goodwin straightened his tie, ignoring the sweat.

“I have been Chairman of the Foundry for over thirty years. I pioneered advancements in the combat interface of augmented robotics. I streamlined and expanded our harvesting operations to a nearly threefold advance in output. I spearheaded the Dyad Project, which has opened new—”

“Ah, yes,” interrupted Director Obwilé. “Tens of millions of dollars invested in research and development on your precious Kaspar, and the first time we need him, he goes missing. Clearly you are unfit to manage such a critical endeavor. And let’s not forget your egregious security failure in allowing two children into Mehk. We alerted you as to our concern, and yet you brushed it off.” He touched his earpiece and leaned forward, still shrouded in darkness. “The Board has come to a decision.”

Goodwin’s pulse raced. His hands fell at his sides.

The directors were silent for another long moment.

“The Board must protect the Foundry. We must defend Meridian at all costs,” said Director Layton.

“Trelaine will want blood,” Director Malcolm added.

In the burst of another explosion from the Citadel, Goodwin could see the hint of a smile on Director Obwilé’s lips.

“And when their ax falls, it falls on you.”

Phoebe trembled uncontrollably.

All they could hear was the roar of ore through the exposed back of the vessel. The pale blue light from the lantern made the blood that flowed from her father’s chest look inky black. He was propped up in her lap, struggling to breathe. The two mehkans stood aside to give her space, and Micah huddled nearby, holding the emptied rifle tight, keeping a sharp eye on the open hatch.

“You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.”

She kept repeating the words again and again, squeezing his cold hand tightly in her own, trying to make him believe it.

Trying to make herself believe it.

He was staring into space, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. There was a horrible, wet slushing sound every time he inhaled, and bubbles of blood frothed in the corners of his mouth. She tried not to stare at the wound on his chest. The sight of it weakened her, sapped her will.

Dollop prayed feverishly, his eyes pinched tight. Orei stood unmoving, save for the twitching of her sliders and pointers.

“We did it,” Phoebe whispered to her father, trying her best to smile and sound hopeful. “We beat them. We—”

The words caught in her throat, choking, wrenching her insides. Her eyes burned. She fought for control. She would not give in to tears. Crying was not going to save him.

“Hold on,” she said louder, her voice clear and firm. “Do you hear me? I said hold on. We’re going to make it, that’s what you said to me. We’re all going to make it. We’ll get help.”

“How much farther?” Micah quietly croaked to Orei.

“Four point three ticks,” she said. “Safe there.”

“Is he going to die?” he asked.

Orei didn’t answer.

Her father’s eyes were suddenly intense, as if he was seeing something invisible to the rest of them. His brow creased and he strained. He tried to speak but made only incomprehensible guttural noises.

“Don’t talk,” Phoebe pleaded. “Save your strength.”

He turned to Micah. His hand clawed at the air, quavering. He grabbed Micah’s coveralls and brought him close enough to whisper in the boy’s ear.

Phoebe watched anxiously. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but she saw Micah’s expression change. His face was sundered by—heartbreak? Fear? Her father let go of Micah, who sat back, shaken.

“Cri…Cr…Crrick…”

Blood clogged his airway, and he hacked.

“Shhh.”

Delicately, she touched her ear to his hitching chest so that she could hear his heart, feel his breath. It was less labored now.

“I love you,” she whispered over and over. “I love you.”

At last, she felt the vessel slowing down.

Phoebe looked up to find they had emerged from underground. Soft whispers of a hazy dawn appeared outside the exposed hatch as the salathyl eased to a stop. Silence settled over them, complete and profound. The crashing clamor of their frantic escape was behind them. Mehkans emerged from a scattering of nearby metal hide tents and approached.

“We’re here, Daddy!” Phoebe cried. She sat up and cast her fierce eyes at Orei. “Get someone! Help him!” she shouted.

But the Covenant commander did not respond.

“Phoebe,” Micah whispered.

“We’re safe,” she said to her father, grasping his hand. She turned to the mehkans staring in from the open hatch. “Do something! Somebody, help me get him out of here!”

“Phoebe,” Micah sobbed. Dollop put his face in his hands.

She looked at them. Then at her father.

And knew.

It was over.

Time faded. The world darkened. Her mind collapsed.

She had come so far to find him. He was everything. No one else mattered. Nothing else existed. And now he was gone.

Forever.

The dam broke inside her, and she cried.