Chapter Twenty-Four
It’s been three miserable years without his wife. He was lonely and he’d heard his staff pray out loud for Anatu’s return so that he could become a human being again. John looked at his general and his heart shattered. He stood there, face expressionless, knowing he had to react, do something, but he couldn’t move. Did they capture her? If she was a captive, at least there was hope. He refused to think of the other possibility of what the message contained. The message the general had handed him was sent in several pieces on different frequencies and to different locations on earth.
He had to clear his throat twice before he could speak. “Could your people decode it? Have you considered it might not be from our team.”
The general did not quite manage to hide his sympathy. “We can never be hundred percent certain, but we could not detect any sign that it was sent from the clones.”
“Unless you prefer to view it alone, general Balthazar is here and can see it at the same time.” The general didn’t say anything about Anatu, and John was grateful for that.
“I will watch it with the general.” He had to believe that Anatu was all right. In the meantime he had to fight this war.
A few moments later they watched a recording of Amelagar that stood and pointed to a large screen behind him. “We thought the clones had three large ships left after whatever fight they got in. We can see signs of serious damage done.” He hesitated and continued. “The problem is this.” The screen behind him changed to show the image that got larger and larger, showing not three space ships but closer to thirty.
“How did we miss this?” he muttered, but quietly he begged for just one glimpse of Anatu to let him know that she was all right.
One thought hammered through his brain. They can’t win. Not against such overwhelming numbers. Not against technology light years ahead of earths.
“We are going to—”
The image snowed. John had to use every inch of self-control he had not to cry out. Not to beg aloud for a glimpse of Anatu. For her to be spared.
“What do you think Amelagar wanted to say?” Balthazar asked.
“I am hoping they figured out a way to destroy the clone ships in a way that keeps them destroyed.” Ships that came back from the dead was the stuff made for nightmares. It was a war they could not win.
My three ships can do a lot of damage to the clone ships. But it won’t make a difference over time. They will simply clone more ships and send them here.”
He frowned and straightened. “Three ships?”
Balthazar’s smile was all teeth. “Yes, I have three warrior class ships.”
“Where?” They’ve learned the hard way to keep a vigilant eye on space. No one had reported seeing more ships.
“The warrior class ships are waiting for the clone ships in space. They are hiding on the dark side of a planet.”
“I hate you fucking cyborgs.”
“I don’t hate you humans. I find you amusing.”
“Fuck you.” His language was deteriorating, but it felt damn good to swear at the smug cyborg.