end in sight. The line that had produced thousands of sentinels each minute had stopped, but there were more sentinels than ever. Dorian walked closer to the window. Small pops of blue and white light flickered across the sky, like thousands of fireflies blinking in the night. Wormholes opened and closed, each delivering a sentinel, which were arriving by the thousands each second. The entire sky was filling with the black objects. They blotted out almost every star, the pops of light heralding their arrival the only shred of light in sight.
Something was happening. They were gathering here, waiting.
Dorian moved to the communications bay and interfaced the sentinel positioning database. All the systems recognized him as General Ares, and no information was withheld from him. Dorian studied the map. The sentinel line that protected this region of space from the Serpentine fleet was collapsing. Large groups of sentinels were leaving the line, rallying to the factory. On the edge of the old line, where the military beacon had been, at the Serpentine battlefield, a Serpentine fleet massed, establishing a staging area. The ships were simply a swarm of dots on the screen, but Dorian felt his mouth run dry. Blood ran down his nose, and he wiped it away. He wondered how long he had left. And if he could do anything to save his world.
Natalie woke to the sound of doors slamming. She slipped out from under the quilt and crept to the window, the cabin’s cold wood floor creaking under her feet.
Three of the four Humvees cranked, their lights flashing through the window for a moment as they backed down the pine tree-lined, dirt driveway that led to the country road in the mountains of North Carolina. She glanced back at the bed. Matthew was still asleep, snuggled under the heavy quilts.
She started for the bedroom door, but her feet were freezing. She pulled on her shoes and a sweater and ventured out.
Major Thomas sat by the fire, sipping coffee, listening to the radio.
“What’s going on?”
“Supply concerns,” he said. “Coffee?”
She nodded and sat in the rustic chair across from him, facing the fire. “Are we out of supplies?”
“No. Not yet. But the government is.” He pointed to the radio, and Natalie listened for a moment while he poured her a cup of coffee.
This broadcast is a service of the United States government. All able-bodied citizens are now required to report to your closest fire station. Our government and our food supplies are under attack from insurgent militias. If you have military training, you are especially needed to defend the American homeland. Report immediately to your nearest fire station for further instructions. You will be fed, and you will help save lives…
Thomas turned the dial down on the antique radio. “The calls have gotten more urgent since last night. The fighting must be getting more intense. My guess is that the Immari militias have scored some victories.”
“You’re not going?”
“No. It’s just a matter of time before someone shows up here.”
Natalie took a deep breath, unable to speak.
“And besides, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
On the bridge of the resurrection ark, Ares watched the last pieces of ice slip off the ancient ship, falling back to Antarctica as it lifted off.
The vessel rose through the atmosphere, and Ares surveyed the planet he had ruined. Massive storms raged, and the coastlines were toxic marshes of submerged cities.
It would be irresistible to his enemy. His time on the tiny world hadn’t gone exactly as planned, but he was back on track now. Nothing could stop him.
The ancient ark cleared the atmosphere, and Ares targeted the floating beacon. He fired a single shot, destroying it. Now the vulnerable little world would be exposed for the serpent to see. It would be here soon, and then the final war would begin.
Ares keyed his destination into the ark and opened a hyperspace tunnel. For a second, he stood on the ship’s bridge, watching the blue, white, and green waves flow by on the screen. They were like a countdown to his destiny.
Finally, he marched out of the bridge, through the dark, metal corridors to the chamber where he had spent most of his time during the last few weeks.
Lykos hung from the straps on the wall. Dried blood was caked on his face and chest. He didn’t look up at Ares.
“I want to thank you for your help.” Ares said.
Lykos stared straight forward, making no reaction.
Ares activated the wall screen and played the video he had tortured Lykos into making—a false distress signal to the Exile fleet.
Lykos lifted his head just enough to see it.
“It’s fitting,” Ares said. “You and Isis unwittingly destroyed both our civilizations. Now you’ll help me make it right. It won’t be long now.”
Ares moved to the door, but Lykos stopped him. “You underestimate us.”
“No. I underestimated you once. It will be the last time. I should have annihilated you on our homeworld when your kind began killing our own citizens. That was our mistake: making peace, resettling you. We left you alone, and you repaid us by returning home and slaughtering us.”
“We had no choice. We only wanted to stop the sentinels.”
Ares changed the screen to show the hyperspace window, which disappeared a few seconds later. A massive factory in space and a fleet of sentinels took its place.
Lykos couldn’t hide his horror.
“I haven’t underestimated your people. I’ve been building a new sentinel army for forty thousand years. The new sentinels are adapted to fight your ships. And I’ve pulled everything from the sentinel line. Every sentinel in existence will soon descend on the Exile fleet. You won’t win. I just transmitted your distress signal.”
On the screen, large groups of sentinel ships jumped away.
“This will be over in a matter of hours,” Ares said.
“The Serpentine Army—”
“I’ve made plans for them. I just wanted you to know what was happening. I’ve kept you alive so you can watch. I’m going to show you the wreckage when it’s done.”
Ares walked out, ignoring Lykos’ screams. The hour he had planned for was at hand. He had anticipated an overwhelming sense of victory, of fulfillment. But he felt as dark and cold as the corridors he marched through.
In the chamber that held the tubes and the last of his people, he paused. For years, he had blamed Isis and Lykos, but Ares had killed Isis and taken his revenge on Lykos. Soon he would complete his retribution on all Lykos’ people. Yet the emptiness remained.
When the docking procedure was complete, Ares exited the ark and began moving through the ancient sentinel factory. At the observation deck, he paused, instantly alert. Someone had been here. Was here. Wrappers from Atlantean rations lay strewn across the floor. Blood stains, dry.
Ares stepped around the corner, following the blood trail. It ended at the communications bay. He opened it.
Dorian lay in the corner, his eyes half open. Blood was caked on his face just like Lykos. Ares glanced at the conference booth. Dorian had accessed the memories. Had he seen it all? It didn’t matter. He had kept Kate Warner from contacting the Serpentine Army before Ares could make his escape. He had performed his role one last time. Now he truly was useless.
“You lied to me,” Dorian said, his voice faint. “Betrayed me. All of us.”
“Well, what are you going to do about it, Dorian?”
Dorian opened his palm. A metallic device rolled out, stopping under the table, out of Ares’ sight. He stepped forward and realized what it was a second before it went off. A grenade.
CHAPTER 50
The last thing David remembered was the ship with the serpent insignia arriving at the battlefield in space and it pulling in his escape pod from the military beacon. He must have passed out after that. Or they had gassed him.
He awoke in a soft bed, in a well-lit room with bare white walls. He wasn’t sure if it was a prison cell or a hospital room, but it felt somewhere in between. The room’s only feature was a small picture window that looked out onto space. The scene stopped him cold. Ring after ring of ships spread out to the horizon. It reminded him of Saturn’s rings, but these circles were made of linked ships. Serpentine ships. How many were there? Millions? Billions? He stood in the ship at the center of the rings, in the belly of the beast so to speak.
The door slid open, and to David’s surprise, someone who looked human glided in, a mild expression on his face. His hair was blond, and he wore it in a tight ponytail. His features were youthful, and David put his age at around forty.
“You’re up,” his visitor said.
“I am.” David hesitated, not sure where to start. Had they rescued him? Or captured him? He would start with a neutral question and go from there. “Where am I?”
“Inside the first ring.”
“First ring?”
“We’ll get to that. Our understanding of your communication customs