United as One (Lorien Legacies #7)(39)

Nine puffs out his chest a bit. “You let me think about their training, Johnny. I’m good at that kinda shit.”

“Come on,” Sam says to the humans, now that Marina is done healing them. “We’ll take you inside and show you around. Sorry to say, it’s as weird and Big Brother–y as it looks. But it’s safe.”

Nine and I watch as Sam and Daniela lead the four across the underground hangar towards the elevator. That’s good. They’ll probably find it easier talking to other humans than they would talking to me; Sam and Daniela can be like camp counselors in this bizarre new world they’ve landed in. I see the four of them stealing looks at me, especially the British kid, Nigel, and I force what I hope is a welcoming smile. He looks away. I wish I had another speech to give, but I don’t. I’m just about out of words.

Six walks over to Nine and me, her hands thrust into her pockets.

“How’d it go?” I ask her.

“Well, they took down three Skimmers’ worth of Mogs before we got there,” she says. “That’s no joke.”

“I’m sensing a ‘but’. . . ,” Nine says.

“They don’t seem up for it,” Six concludes. “I mean, maybe if we had a couple of months or even a few weeks to train them. Right now, it’s all raw power.”

“What’s your problem with raw power?” Nine asks.

“I’m not saying they wouldn’t be useful, if you want to look at it that way,” Six says. “It’s just that . . . I don’t know. I can tell some of them wouldn’t make it. I know the Elders were cool with losing a few of us to protect the majority. Not sure I am.”

“Soldiers die; that’s how it goes,” Nine says, glancing over to the elevator. The new kids are just now piling on, and we all get a look at Bertrand’s butt, exposed from where he got sprayed with blaster fire. Nine sighs. “But those sure as hell aren’t soldiers.”

“I called them all to fight,” I say quietly, looking down at the floor. “I should’ve told them to focus on surviving. Like we did the first years. Now, instead, I’ve drawn them into a battle they might not make it back from.”

“I mean, only the ones dumb enough to listen to you in the first place,” Nine adds with a shrug.

“Their best chance of surviving long-term is still finding us and getting training,” Six counters. “What we need to do is make sure those Loralite stones you sent them to are safe and secure.”

At that moment, Ella wanders over to us. She’d been standing at the exit ramp of the ship, staring up at the domed hangar ceiling. “I can help with that,” she says.

“Ella knows where all the stones are,” Six reminds me.

Ella looks up at me. “Can we talk alone, John?”

I’d been planning to corner Ella when she got back anyway. I need her to teach me how to mimic her telepathy—being able to communicate with the others will be integral to everything we’ve got planned. Yet, for some reason, I get a real sense of foreboding when she asks to speak with me.

“Sure, Ella. Right now?”

“In a little while. I need to prepare something,” she says, then wanders off to the elevator. Mechanics working on the vehicles in the hangar stop what they’re doing to stare at the trail of Loric energy that sparks out from her eyes, how it floats through the air like a comet’s tail and then dissipates to nothing.

“What was that about?” Nine asks quietly.

I shoot Six a questioning look.

“Your guess is as good as mine, John,” she says. “I think the girl’s got a lot on her mind.”

I should’ve asked Ella exactly where she wanted us to meet. I spend more time than I should wandering the subterranean halls of Patience Creek looking for her. At one point, I pass by the laboratory where Sam and Malcolm are hard at work on reverse engineering the Mogadorian cloaking device. From the hallway, I can hear Sam repeatedly saying, “Broadcast at that frequency,” almost like it’s a mantra. Six mentioned that he’s developing a Legacy that lets him communicate with machines. So far, it doesn’t sound like the cloaking device is willing to listen.

As I walk by, Bernie Kosar trots out from the Goodes’ laboratory, where he’s been hanging out with the other Chim?rae. I pause to reach down and scratch behind his ears.

Want to help me track down Ella? I ask him, using my animal telepathy.

BK wags his tail and begins leading me down the hallway, back the way I came. He seems excited to have something to do, his little beagle legs pumping, tail straight out behind him. We end up at the elevator, and, once inside, BK hops up on his back legs so he can push the button for the top floor with his snout.

What would I do without you, BK?

The elevator doors open, and right in front of me is a wooden wall. I push against it with two hands, and it easily slides forward, its hinges well-oiled. I step into a retro-looking bedroom, now on the top level of Patience Creek, the aboveground level, the part of the complex that looks exactly like an abandoned bed-and-breakfast because, for all intents and purposes, it really is one. The room I’m in smells musty, the double bed looks like it hasn’t been slept in for years and dust motes hang in the air. Through the window—a real window with actual sunlight, not like the simulated ones in the subterranean rooms—I can hear birds chirping away the late afternoon. I push the hinged bookcase back into place so the elevator is concealed.