36. Chapter 16
Chapter 16
Zoric was stunned by what he saw in Angela's mind, his scales rippling with shock and disbelief. The memory had been crystal clear - not just images and sounds, but emotions and sensations that couldn't have been fabricated. When he looked up at Ae-cha, he could see the excitement warring with fear in the way her own scales shifted patterns. She had recognized it too - the impossible truth hidden in a child's memories.
Through their Bond, he could feel Angela's exhaustion and confusion, but also a deep sense of safety associated with the memory. She had no idea what Uncle Saul truly was, or what his presence in her life meant. The implications made Zoric's heart race - he'd heard stories, whispered legends, but had never believed them.
"It's not possible," he told Ae-cha, his voice rough with suppressed emotion. His claws flexed against his legs, leaving tiny scratches along his scales.
"But it could be," she responded, her scales flickering with patterns he hadn't seen since their shared history lessons. The Elite and The Remnant had very different perspectives on their shared history but they'd discovered some things in common when they'd been forced to the bargaining table.
"It's not. They don't do that. And certainly not with humans. What that memory is implying is centuries-"
Colonel Schuh burst through the door, the sharp crack of it hitting the wall making them all jump. Angela collapsed fully into Zoric's arms, the shared memory having drained what little energy she had left. The moment was broken, but the questions it raised would haunt him.
"Our next ride will be here in twenty. Get on your feet and out so we can give these soldiers back what little space they had," the Colonel ordered. He looked over at Angela and his brow wrinkled. "Is she asleep?"
"No, sir," Angela said quietly.
You need rest, Zoric sent her. I can feel how exhausted you are.
I can keep going for a while longer, she sent back.
"On your feet, Marine," Colonel Schuh barked and Angela struggled to follow his orders. The surprise and pleasure that shot through her at the order translated across their Bond, as did her frustration at not being able to force her body to follow it.
Zoric stood, Angela in his arms. "We'll move faster if I carry her, sir. She's injured."
The Colonel studied him for a long moment, then nodded. "Let's move."
He led the way out of the room and into the hall. Zoric was right behind him, Angela's determination to be the Marine, Colonel Schuh had called her, pushing at him. The others fell in line behind him, with the guards bringing up the rear.
The transition from the stuffy quarters to the sudden heat and whipping wind outside the door was staggering and Zoric didn't know how the Colonel managed it without breaking stride. As it was, he had to use his tail for balance to keep from being pushed around as he walked.
They loaded into two vehicles waiting outside, the new car smell mixed oddly with the sharp scent of gun oil from the guards' weapons. One of the guards held the door for Zoric to climb in without shifting his hold on Angela, and the Colonel got in the other side. Through their Bond, Zoric could feel Angela cataloging every detail - the leather seats still hot from sitting in the sun, the steady vibration of the engine through the floorboards, the crunch of tires on gravel as they pulled away.
"Where are we going?" Angela asked. Zoric could feel her pushing herself to speak normally despite her exhaustion, her voice barely carrying over the hum of the air conditioning that was fighting a losing battle against the desert heat.
"An airfield to catch a ride out of the area entirely," the Colonel answered, his voice clipped. "Now that we know what to look for, the Orvax are tracking an unknown signal. It's not moving in a direct line but it's followed us out this direction."
"Did it attack the other base?" Her concern that innocents might have been hurt because of her, that her fellow warriors might have suffered, flooded their Bond and Zoric tightened his arms around her.
"No," he answered, and she relaxed slightly. "And we think putting an ocean or two between you and whatever is hunting you is a good idea."
"Have your orders changed, Colonel?" Zoric asked.
The Colonel took so long to answer that Zoric thought he might not answer at all. Finally, he shook his head. "They have evolved. The original orders still stand but there seems to be something deeper going on. Something way beyond my paygrade. Keeping Private McBride safe and alive has become the priority."
A chill ran down Zoric's spine with the explanation. His mind returned to Angela's memory of Uncle Saul.
"The Orvax are helping?" he asked.
"Yes, though I'm not privy to how much."
"What about other allies?"
Colonel Schuh looked at him. "I was under the impression that you were the best your people could afford to send."
The statement held a question, almost an accusation, and Zoric had to swallow his pride to not answer it with anger. His people had been devastated by the fight that had freed them from their bondage to a monster. Centuries of depredation and abuse had left many of them angry, hurt, and fearful of the outside world.
"I am," he said. "But I wonder if there are others out there who may offer more help."
"If you have other resources, I'm all ears," Colonel Schuh told him.
Zoric nodded. "I'll have to discuss it with Ae-cha," he said. "It's a long shot if it exists at all, but I have an idea."
What are you talking about? Angela asked him. Do you think Ae-cha's people are holding out on resources?
I think we should take you home, he told her.
Panic shot through their Bond before she smothered it. He didn't understand what had caused it or why she would try to hide. The safety she had felt in that memory, in the middle of a pain-filled and fearful event, had spoken to him.
"You'll have a long flight to talk it over," Colonel Schuh said.
As they crested the next hill, the airfield came into view - a sprawling complex surrounded by razor wire that glinted in the harsh sunlight. Armed guards stood in towers at regular intervals, their shadows sharp against the bleached concrete. The acrid smell of jet fuel hung heavy in the air, mixing with the metallic taste of exhaust as they approached the massive aircraft waiting on the runway. Heat waves rose from the tarmac, distorting Zoric's view of the ground crew that scurried around the plane like ants, their voices carried away by the wind.
Angela craned to look out the window then whistled. "Who are we hitching a ride with, sir?"
"Nobody," he answered. "It was the first plane nearby that could make the flight without needing to stop to refuel."
Fear shot along their Bond and Zoric sought out the cause. A jumbled explanation about military travel and how it was scheduled only confused him further, but he understood that the speed at which she was being moved did not indicate Good Things.
That was something he could understand. Even with a monster who had proven to be increasingly crazy and sadistic, the natural pace of anything outside of combat was slow, methodical. The kind of logistics that were necessary for this kind of speed were difficult if not impossible to pull off unless it was an emergency.
They stopped a few feet away from the lowered ramp and Colonel Schuh was out the door, barking orders before Zoric had gotten the door open. When Angela would have stood up, he held her closer, even though it made getting out of the vehicle tricky.
I'm not injured, she protested across the Bond.
No, but you are in my custody, he responded. And I do not want to give anybody the chance to remove you.
He hoped she let the argument end there and she did, though he could read her confusion at his insistence. While the Bond he shared with Angela was the deepest he'd ever experienced, he'd also forged one with the Chelion he'd grown up with, served with. Created by necessity when they couldn't risk speaking out loud, it had carried more than information and conversation.
The pain his men had felt when their Bond-mates were taken from them had echoed through all of them, until he was afraid he was going to lose all of them. He'd shielded Dorcas from whatever he could, her pain and fear radiating at him, and he let her go because he knew he couldn't save her. He'd never intended for the others to be taken, as well, and his private pain had been shared in a way he'd never expected.
With everything he'd learned, everything he'd seen, it was more important than ever to keep her close. And, while he knew he was going to have to put her down eventually, he wasn't going to do it yet.
She didn't argue as he carried her up the ramp, and he was grateful he wasn't going to have to explain. Instead, he looked around for a place to sit, and realized it was going to be a very uncomfortable ride.
Dr. Phillips and Ae-cha were talking animatedly as they walked up the ramp and Zoric caught the mention of the Jade Princess. It sounded like Ae-cha was giving the human doctor a history lesson.
Dr. Torres followed behind, his head turning as he walked through the back of the enormous plane, though he stayed close behind the women.
The transition into the aircraft hit all of Zoric's senses at once - the rubber and metal smell common to military planes, the cold press of steel under his feet, the deep thrum of idling engines that resonated in his chest. His claws clicked against the metal floor as he carried Angela to their seats, the sound almost lost under the whine of hydraulics and the sharp hiss of pressurized air.
It looked like the plane was set up to carry mostly cargo, with several pallets already strapped to the floor in the center. Seats were attached along the sides, with strange harnesses instead of the seat belts he remembered from the movies.
"Take a seat," Colonel Schuh shouted over the cacophony of pre-flight checks. "We're taking off as soon as we're cleared to go."
"Do we have a destination yet?" Dr. Torres asked. He'd chosen a seat between Ae-cha and Zoric though he seemed to be making an effort to refrain from staring at either of them.
It struck Zoric as an odd thing to do but he couldn't quite pinpoint why.
"I'm afraid that's classified at the moment," Colonel Schuh told him.
The webbed harnesses were a far cry from civilian seatbelts, the straps rough against Zoric's scales. He finally had to set Angela down when she pointed out they couldn't share one, though he managed to slide his tail under her leg once they were seated. The metal bench seats transmitted every vibration from the engines, a steady rhythm that seemed to sync with his heartbeat.
"You could just hold hands like normal people," one of the soldiers on the plane remarked.
"Does any of this look normal to you?" Angela asked. Her tone was one Zoric had never heard before, though he remembered echoes of it from some of her memories he'd skimmed past.
A few more men hurried aboard, their civilian clothes and long beards standing out among the uniforms. The heavy thud of the cargo ramp closing sealed them in, the engine noise building to a roar that made conversation impossible. As they began to move, Zoric felt the subtle shift in his inner ear that signaled takeoff was imminent.
Beside him, Angela crossed her arms and dropped into sleep, her body automatically adjusting to the pitch and yaw of the aircraft in a way that spoke of long practice. Through their Bond, he could sense dozens of similar memories - the familiar discomfort of military transport transformed into something almost like home by the presence of her fellow Marines. When her dreams threatened to turn dark, he was there to guide them back to safer waters.
Then she noticed his presence in her dreams and smiled, the warmth of it cutting through the artificial chill of the cabin air.