Aurora Rising (The Aurora Cycle #1)(33)

“Listen,” she says, appealing directly to our squad leader. “I know this sounds crazy, but … I saw de Stoy before I ever met her, Tyler. I saw Kal in my hospital room, saying exactly what he said here, just a few minutes ago. And I saw what they’ll do to me. I can see it right now in my head and I can feel it, and …”

Ah. Oh. Got it.

This girl’s spent too long in the Fold.

Our fearless leader has clearly drawn the same conclusion, because his voice goes very gentle. “They can help you, Auri. It’s going to be okay.”

Kal drops to a crouch, murmuring in her ear. She glares at him, and for a moment, her hand tightens around the pistol she’s holding. But surprisingly, whatever he says seems to calm her, and she lets him slowly ease the gun out of her white-knuckle grip.

I can hear Scarlett talking over comms to the TDF crew as the destroyer draws close to the station. With a heavy clunk, their umbilical clamps onto the outer doors, and First Taneth disarms the airlock. Our whole squad’s quiet. Auri’s breath is audible, catching and huffing, as if she’s trying not to cry.

“They’ve got no faces,” she’s whispering.

I blink. “What did you say?”

“They’ve got no faces,” she hisses desperately. “And they’re going to wipe all this away, they’re going to make it clean, they’re going to paint it black.”

Kal comes to his feet as the airlock doors rumble open. I catch sight of the familiar khaki uniforms of the Terran Defense Force marching into the bay, heavy tac armor and heavy boots. None of them are over twenty-five.

The famous Ty Jones heads across to greet them, and though he’s only a freshly instated Legionnaire, he manages to look like he’s in charge. Which is all the more impressive, because he has to be as confused as the rest of us about why the TDF’s even involving itself here.

“We sure are glad to see you, Lieutenant,” he says, offering a polite salute and one of those smoldering smiles he does so well.

“Of course.” A young woman salutes back. “Glad we could help.”

“I’ve gotta say, LT, we weren’t expecting help,” he admits. “If word gets out the TDF got involved in this, the Unbroken might consider the Terran government to have taken a side. There could be reprisals.”

A voice comes from behind the group of soldiers, low and steely, as if it’s coming through a speaker. “That risk has been noted, Legionnaire.”

The soldiers part like a comb’s running through them, and with heavy, deliberate footsteps, five tall figures make their way to the front.

What the … ?

They’re clad head to toe in charcoal gray, and their faces are completely hidden behind featureless masks, like elongated grav-bike helmets. No eyes, no nose, no mouth. Just a dully reflective surface, concealing even the smallest hint of the individual behind it. With their electronic voices, you can’t even guess at their age or gender.

“Holy shit,” Scarlett whispers. “They’re GIA.”

I wonder if this would be a bad time to revisit that conversation with her about a spare pair of pants, because I might not be a Terran, but even I know operatives of the Global Intelligence Agency are not folks you mess with.

“They’ve got no faces.”

And here they are.

The five GIA agents are all perfectly identical except the one leading the pack. The leader is dressed in pure white instead of gray, so spotless and crisp it’s actually a little eerie. And I’m a Betraskan, so when I find too much white intimidating, you know it’s really doing a job.

I figure maybe the lack of color is some marker of rank, because Goldenboy gives it a smart salute and stands to attention like he’s on parade.

“Legionnaire Tyler Jones reporting.”

The figure surveys us, breath hissing softly. I can’t see its eyes, but I can tell it’s looking right at our stowaway, addressing Goldenboy like an afterthought.

“You will refer to me as Princeps.”

Tyler clears his throat, finally looking a little out of his depth. “Princeps, I don’t mean to tell you your business, but if those Unbroken get—”

“Bellerophon has dispatched two full fighter wings,” it interrupts, its voice flat and dead. “The Syldrathi wraith will be incinerated. There will be no evidence of Terra’s involvement in this … incident.”

“Forgive me for asking, Princeps, but how did you get to us so fast? We had no notification of a Terran vessel in this sector.”

He’s pressing just a fraction, and I can see Scarlett tense almost imperceptibly as she watches him. The operative turns to look Tyler in the face.

“The Global Intelligence Agency has one thousand eyes, Legionnaire Jones.”

It holds out its hand to our stowaway.

“Aurora,” it says. “We’ve come to escort you home.”

“They’ve got no faces.” “And they’re going to wipe all this away, they’re going to make it clean, they’re going to paint it black.”

“Don’t make me go,” she pleads.

She’s looking at Tyler, Goldenboy, our fearless leader. Tears in her eyes and blood on her mouth.

“Please, Tyler,” she whispers. “Don’t let them take me.”