The Intuitives(99)

“The tower has been rented out for this event,” Ammu explained. “There are exhibits that you may walk through after the launch, but we will spend the time before lift-off on the fourth floor, where various military and Homeland Security personnel will be interested to meet you. Many of them have been influential in acquiring funding for the ICIC, so it is important that we make a good impression.

“Remember, what we have been doing this summer is not common knowledge. The true nature of the project is highly classified, and you must act accordingly. You have been studying Persian mythology through intuitive learning techniques. You are excited to be part of the program. If you are asked a question you do not know how to answer, get my attention or Christina’s. For our purposes today, she is one of your instructors.

“Just before the launch, we will remove ourselves to the seventh-floor observation deck, which has been reserved for us alone, despite the many illustrious guests who are present today. It will provide a magnificent view of the test launch, which I believe you will all enjoy. Do you have any questions before we go in?”

They did not, so Ammu ushered them into the building and led the way up to the fourth floor, which turned out to be a large meeting hall where several dozen men and women had already congregated. Some were dressed in Army uniforms, but most of them wore expensive business suits, as did Christina and Ammu.

Their arrival did not make any great stir among the crowd, much to their collective relief, so they began to mill about idly, Sketch being the first to notice the buffet table that had been set up toward the back of the room.

“I have a question,” Sketch said to Christina.

“Yes, you are welcome to eat at the buffet table,” Christina told him. “It’s free.”

Without another word, Sketch made a beeline for the food.

A kind-faced older woman made her way over to the group and spoke with them for a while. Yes, they all said, the classes had been very interesting. They were very much enjoying their stay at the ICIC. They were excited to be part of the program. Thank you very much for the opportunity.

Smiling, the woman moved on.

This conversation repeated itself with a man in a gray business suit and then again with a man in an Army uniform, whom Mackenzie identified as a “full-bird colonel,” which sounded important even though the others didn’t know what it meant.

As time wore on and no one else approached them, the students drifted apart, Kaitlyn and Mackenzie joining Sketch at the buffet table, and Daniel wandering toward the punch bowl. Sam walked out to the observation deck to take in the view, but it didn’t seem like there was very much to see until she noticed the telescopes along the outer railing. She was heading that way when she saw Rush step outside to join her, so she waited for him to catch up.

“View’s nice,” Rush commented.

“Of the water, I guess,” Sam said. “But the launch pad’s so far away you can hardly see it at all.”

“Yeah, a pamphlet inside says it’s a safety precaution. Even the closest setup at the space center itself is more than two miles away from the pad.”

“Oh. I guess I thought we’d be closer.”

“I was surprised too,” Rush admitted. “It’ll still be cool to watch, though.”

“Yeah, at least they have the telescopes. You want to check them out?”

“Sure,” Rush agreed.

They waited for a rather portly gentleman to finish using the one in front of them. He looked through the eyepiece a few moments longer and then relinquished the device, smiling politely before making his way back toward the meeting room.

“You go ahead,” Rush said, waving Sam forward.

“Thanks.” Sam smiled back at him, bending down a little to look through the eyepiece and then standing up very slowly, turning toward Rush with a haunted look in her eye.

“Tick-Tock? What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Houston,” she said, backing away from the device so Rush could look through it for himself, “we have a problem.”

Rush took a quick step forward and looked through the telescope.

The magnification was spectacular. The launch pad filled the optics, giving him a perfect view of the rocket that was about to launch Orion into space—and wrapped around its hull, just as clear as day, the sinister form of an enormous, pitch-black dragon.





58


Orion



“Ammu?”

“Yes, Rush? Samantha? Is something wrong?” They found him inside the meeting room, chatting amiably with an attractive middle-aged woman about the military strategies of Alexander the Great.

“No! No, nothing’s wrong. We just wanted you to see the launch pad. Through the telescopes. It’s very exciting.” Rush gave Ammu a meaningful stare.

“Very exciting,” Sam echoed.

“Of course,” Ammu said.

He turned to excuse himself from the conversation, but the woman had already taken advantage of their arrival to disappear into the crowd, apparently preferring less historical chit-chat. Rush ignored Ammu’s look of disappointment, grabbing the man by the sleeve and shepherding him out to the observation deck, practically shoving him toward the nearest telescope.

“Rush? What—”

“Look,” Rush interrupted him, pointing imperiously to the device while Sam stood by his side, nodding adamantly.