Dez shivered and wrung his hands. “Sir, I have a plan. If we can jettison enough of these prototypes into the invaders’ war zone and install them in strategic places, they’ll act as protector magnets—droid magnets if you will. To be unleashed at our discretion.”
The colonel’s brows rose. “My people are giving a green light to this. We’re sparing no expense in hardware, technology and manpower, whatever it takes. Write up your reports and invoices and submit them to my personnel.”
Dez nodded. “I can give you all the Star Class A/F mechnobots we have. They’re all trained and programmed to kill. They’ll sacrifice themselves too in the line of duty.”
“Gather them, and don’t stint. We’ll hyperdrive them in to the war front.”
Dez licked his lips, his mind buzzing with vivid memories of the armored avatar and his trip to Remus. “We can throw in our complete experimental line—from bio sources, alien pods to be exact, acquired from The Dim Zone.”
The colonel smoothed his jaw. “Any bio-hazard I should know about?”
“Not that we can determine. As I hinted, I can’t guarantee the new mechnobots’ outcomes, as the moths are completely unpredictable, but that’s their strength. They’ll protect their habitat at all costs. The good news is our tests have shown them 100% more lethal and effective than our F models—if certain conditions apply.”
Grescon nodded, his body more at ease. “Transport them to mission control asap. We can transport them into Fygard base on the high probability they’ll prove useful. I haven’t time to go over the minutiae. Only that anything that foils these aliens’ sick plans is a go with us at NOA.”
Dez felt a shiver pass up his back. His mind roved back to the dragonfly from hell. He wondered what havoc this test model with the moth could wreak.
Chapter 21
The next morning, Dez summoned Regers and crew to the main research lab. They came down a complicated series of stairs a few levels below main floor level, escorted by security men taking up the rear. Regers stood with the others in a wide, high-ceilinged lab buzzing with engineers in white coats. Wall-to-wall tech sprawled along the sides: holo monitors, sensors and recording equipment. Regers and CEO faced each other at a healthy distance.
Dez was all cleaned up: a new blue suit, black shoes, white tie, face and cheeks and sideburns scrubbed and trimmed, his pale ruff of hair as cheesy as ever, hollow eyes pits to nowhere, as if the stress of the last days had dug deep rivulets into his soul. Regers wondered if he’d ever fully recover from the ordeal.
A dozen demonstration research rooms stood to one side, all with a thick window reinforced with bulletproof glass and close-set iron bars.
Regers moved toward one and stared at the battered metal hulks within—failed mechnobots. The many white-coated engineers and lab assistants running around and their haggard, stressed looks told a story of its own. “How goes the bug research?” he asked sardonically.
Dez addressed Regers in a thin icy voice. “The armor is responding well to the alien insertion of the Xesian species.” He studied Regers with a curious expression, bland and noncommittal, as if wondering how scientifically inclined such an uneducated rogue could be. “Once we part ways, Regers, I don’t want to ever see your face again or you laying a hand on my family.”
Regers shrugged. “Business is business, and our business is done, Dez. Both of us have upheld our sides of the bargain. So, you needn’t worry.”
Dez nodded, as if convinced of the truth. “Then come to my primary lab, I want to show you something. Your friends can tag along if they wish.”
Regers shrugged. “Sure, if you have a burning need for it, but don’t try to sandbag me, Dez. Remember our little talk.”
Dez snorted. “I’m sure you’ll be fine, Regers, a big bad boy like you.” But the CEO’s smile did not reassure Regers.
Vincent and Ramra opted to stay back at the suite and indulge in R-rated holo channels over mugs of dark ale while Jennings and Deakes decided to take the tour.
Security men fell in behind Regers and his two crew members, fingering their E1s. Regers cast them a smirking look. Though that was mostly bluff. Something was off with Dez and that troubled him. The man was too smug.
Cyber Corp was an impressive installation as far as research places went: from its botanical gardens and glass cathedral ceilinged foyers to its wall-to-wall lab tech. Regers mused, overkill with its nests of labs lit with bright fluorescent lights, and geeks running around in white lab coats with pencils tucked behind the ear, carrying punch code gizmos, chipboards and robot parts.
The tense group piled into an elevator and descended several more floors into a secure area, a huge underground complex.
“Here, put these on.” Dez motioned to a rack of hanging white lab coats and hard hats for everyone.
“You turning us into a construction crew?” grunted Regers.
“No, the helmets are for your safety. The white coats are for alerting my security men not to blow you away.”
“Sounds logical,” conceded Regers.
Dez scowled, forcing words from his pinched lips, one that he evidently found distasteful and seemed hesitant to relay. “Somebody leaked info to NOA, sprang the news
