“Arlo, I have a feeling they didn’t expect to find the Hidan. This is an assault. Revenge,” Jade said.
My palm slammed on the dash. “Damn them. I’m tired of being lied to.” I changed comms. “Luther, come in.”
“Go ahead, Hawk,” he said.
“This isn’t what we signed up for. This is a Velibar city.”
“What do you want me to do?” Luther asked.
“Captain, I’m picking up a familiar signal,” R11 informed me.
What now? “Spit it out!”
“It’s our Pod Sprinter,” R11 said. “I’ve detected Holland’s Pod.”
FIFTEEN
Four Years Ago
Preston Lewis missed Catarina. She’d been so upset when he’d informed her about their plan to bring the Velibar to Earth, and even more so when he was addressed as First Regal of Biks in front of her. The moment the people were told of his promotion by the First Ruler, everyone’s attitude had changed around him. The Velibar still eyed him suspiciously, but their Word had promised of a person from another race coming to their salvation.
Preston knew full well that the Ruler didn’t really believe this archaic prophecy. Even if the Velibar didn’t either, they would never second guess their leader’s decisions or the Word publicly. It would only seal their own demise. So they accepted his new title quickly, making his life far easier.
Catarina Kelley, on the other hand, hated him for it. She beat his chest with her fists, called him names. Told him he was a disgrace to humanity for accepting the enemy’s title. But now, four years later, he had no other path.
After spending years on the Velibar home planet of Dutis, he’d expected more of the same, with stone towers and squat structures mimicking the old ways. Biks was nothing like that. It was shiny and new, with hovering transports throughout the city, stylish buildings with Velibar far different than Dutis. They lived above water as well, which was interesting.
Preston stared out his window at the mountain on his left and the massive lake below. Yes, the First Regal of Biks had the best penthouse view in the city.
The First Ruler was visibly absent, which was an added bonus. He’d arrived and sequestered himself into the temple along the base of the lake. It was an exact replica of his chambers at home, and Preston had visited with the Ruler twice each year since they’d come to Biks.
“Can we bring you anything, First Regal?” Beter Con asked from the entrance. She was a cousin of Oleth Con, and remained loyal to the title, even if the Ruler had killed her blood relative. She was devout, suggesting formally that Oleth must have deserved his fate. In private, he could sense her distaste for their leader.
“Nothing for now, Beter. Thank you,” he told her, using Berio. Their language had been simple enough to perfect. When she exited the room, he turned around, eying his lavish furnishings.
“Quite the mess you’ve gotten yourself into, Preston,” he told himself in English. The words sounded off to his ear. “Maybe you should practice more. I’m not sure how the people of Earth will respond if you show up speaking like the enemy.” He said this to himself, growing more comfortable with each passing word.
A transport flew by, carrying a load of Velibar across the city. “You’re not one of them, Preston,” he whispered. “You are human. You are…” But he’d sworn to the Ruler he was a Velibar. He was the First Regal of Biks, the very first non-Velibar to take such a title in their entire history.
His computer chimed, notifying him of a message. Preston was in touch with someone on Earth. The moment he’d arrived at Biks, he’d been given the contact’s information. The Ruler wouldn’t tell him the individual’s identity. When Preston had asked directly, they’d refused to acknowledge the query.
Preston assumed it was Frank Under. It had to be. Who else would abandon their own people?
Talking to someone from Earth always brought it back. His previous life. Helping Luna Corp climb to second overall in the Primaries, before training Arlo in the Pod Sprints. Arlo would be all grown up now. Preston hoped he was thriving as an adult. That he was under someone’s wing. He’d be around thirty years old. Did he have a family of his own?
He opened the program, reading the latest message. It had been months since their last communication, and he nervously scrolled through the note.
Things have been set in motion. The great Space Race will be announced in three years. Each Primary will be at the ending, as well as Liberty and the Board. Does this align?
Preston sat in the stiff chair, overlooking the views, and rubbed his temples.
He began to type. Who are you? I will not discuss this further until I know with whom I am speaking.
He stared at the message and hesitantly deleted it.
That will align. He hit send.
But he needed one more thing. What news of Arlo Lewis? This person already knew he was Preston, captain of Obelisk, so there was nothing strange with him checking after his family.
He drummed his fingers, anticipating the response. The notification startled him from a daydream by the time it came in.
Arlo Lewis. Age: Thirty. Corporation: Oasis. Position: Hauler. Ship: Capricious.
That was it.
Preston read it again. What the hell was Arlo doing running a hauler for Oasis? That didn’t add up. He’d left the boy under Sage’s protection in their racing program. How could he have gone from the top to working for a mid-Primary operation, transporting goods around the mines?
The Ruler wishes Arlo to be at the finish in the Race.
This time, the response was much faster. It will be done.
Preston smiled. He’d been waiting for years to return home, but now he had his own finish line. Space Race. What a concept. And whoever his contact was, they would ensure Hawk Lewis was present when the Velibar arrived.
____________
Now
“Are you certain?” I double-checked the readouts, and R11 was right. Holland’s
