“You think,” the man faced Mallory. His mouth formed a hard line. “
“I’m as surprised by their presence as you are.”
“I find that hard to believe. You would have me believe you are not a party to an invasion fleet? The first offworlders to arrive in a century?”
Mallory shook his head. “You can debrief us separately. We can give you all the details you want.”
“I will.”
“They haven’t attempted contact with you?”
“They—”
The radio in the cabin squealed with static and started its incomprehensible babble again. Almost simultaneously, one of the guards stepped up to the doorway. He held a small comm unit.
“Sir, we’re getting an unauthorized transmission.”
The man took the comm; the volume was high enough that Mallory could hear it.
The voice was familiar. The last time he had heard it, it was quoting Revelation.
No, Mallory thought, it was not the Caliphate. It was something much, much worse. . . .
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Visions
No escape is final.
None are more hopelessly enslaved as those who falsely believe they are free.
“One aircraft,” Nickolai said.
The world went white, then red. The vibration threw him on the ground as he realized that there was no way he should be aware of hitting the ground. He landed on his side and felt the ground beneath him rumbling, oscillating in a great sine wave under his good arm. Around him there was a great groaning, as if the planet itself was in agony.
The light faded to red and he saw a distinct edge, a hemisphere engulfing them, marking the limit of the light, the red saturating everything outside.
Then the light faded a bit more and he could see the shadow of one of the nearby buildings. It stood nearly at the outside edge of the hemisphere, which was the only reason he could see it.
Nicolai watched the building disintegrate in slow motion, the shadow of the building dissolving. More detail became visible, even as his eyes adjusted. Flames rolled across the ground, too slowly.
“What is this?” he whispered.
The fireball crawled by, wrapping itself around the hemisphere.
The slow rumbling of the ground ceased, and the world stopped screaming its death cry. He pushed himself up and got to his feet.
“What is this?” he repeated.
