Defenders (25 page)

“
Who else would they use them against?
” Alan asked. “The trees? Cats? They’ve spent the last fifteen years building weapons to use against us. There’s no other logical conclusion to draw.”

“You sound almost eager for it to happen,” Lila said. Her disdain for Alan was growing by the day. She was barely able to look at Alan when she talked to him. He clearly fancied himself a strong-willed, swinging-dick alpha male, but the more they disagreed, the more he came across as a petulant child.

“I wouldn’t say
eager
,” Alan said. “But if we learned anything from the Luyten War, it’s that when we’re threatened, we have to take decisive action to defend ourselves. Immediately.”

“So the reason we had so much trouble with the Luyten was that we were too easy on them?” Lila asked, incredulous. “Go tell that to the four
billion
people who died fighting them.”

“I didn’t—”

Oliver cut Lila off. “Why don’t we stick to the things we can control? If there is an invasion, whether we agree with it or not, we would be at ground zero surrounded by defenders. If we aren’t killed in the initial bombing, the defenders will surely fix that.”

It was a sobering thought. If only they could contact Five. Five might be able to warn them away, either by providing some insight into the defenders’ intentions, or by telling them the Luyten would fight on the defenders’ side, either by choice or out of fear of reprisal.

The Luyten’s silence was frustrating. After the war, they’d certainly been chatty enough.
We’re terribly sorry!
they’d shouted at the human race. Had they meant it even slightly?

Humans had double-crossed them, though. They’d handed the Luyten over to the defenders, believing the defenders were going to slaughter every last one of them. But not every human had agreed with that action. Lila had been against allowing the defenders to take custody of the Luyten. So had Oliver. Five knew that. So did the crimson fucker who’d killed her father.

Sorry I killed your dad
, the crimson one had said to Lila. Were they even capable of regret? Were they haunted by the lives they’d taken? Maybe Lila should get in its face and ask it, point-blank.

She waited for a lull in the argument, then clutched Oliver’s sleeve. “Come on.”

Oliver followed her out of the sewer pipe without comment, evidently relieved to have an excuse to escape the tension.

“I think Alan may be a psychopath,” Oliver said when they were outside. “I disagree with Sook, but I respect her. Alan just seems eager to see people die.”

“I may know how to locate Five,” Lila said. “Though it’s a long shot.”

“My best idea was going door-to-door. I’ll take a long shot.”

As they climbed the steep grade of the drainage bed, Lila picked up her pace. “Do you remember which street we were on when I spotted the crimson Luyten? I want to have a little talk with him.”

Oliver, immediately grasping her plan, looked skeptical. “Five told me those apologies were nothing but a strategy to improve their chances of survival. A goodwill campaign to rebrand themselves.”

“From everything you’ve told me, Five is kind of an asshole. I’m not sure I’d put much stock in anything he said.”

“Which is why we’re trying to get information from him that might affect the likelihood of a global war.”

Lila pointed at him. “Good point. In any case, I’m not planning to play on its sense of regret; I’m going to play on its sense of self-preservation.”

With Oliver striding to keep pace, Lila stormed up the concrete bed, onto Elizabeth Street. Defenders paused to stare. One waved. Oliver waved back. Lila kept walking.

“Where are you?” she said under her breath. She was angry at Sook and Alan, and potentially the entire human Alliance, but for now she turned that anger toward the crimson Luyten. If the Luyten didn’t regret killing her father enough to help them, she was planning to find a two-by-four and beat the hell out of it. She could, too. The telepathic pinwheel wouldn’t be able to lift a tentacle to defend itself with defenders around. Odds were, if she attacked it, half a dozen defenders would join in, and they could have a good old-fashioned starfish pull. It seemed as if defenders were always in the mood for a good starfish pull.

“Where are you?” she called. “You can hide, but I’ll keep asking until I find you. Slaves can’t hide for long.”

She turned the corner onto Campbell Street, and stopped short. There it was, unloading crates from the back of its delivery truck.

I owe you nothing.

Lila stumbled as the words clawed her mind.

I lost Luyten who were closer to me than you’re even capable of imagining.

“I didn’t kill any of them. I was
fifteen
.” Lila heard Oliver’s sharp intake of breath as he realized she was speaking to the Luyten.

The Luyten went on stacking crates, slowly, deliberately.

We signed a peace treaty with you, and you handed us over to these monsters.

Lila had no comeback for that one. She’d been only fifteen when that happened as well, but the information she was trying to obtain wasn’t for her benefit, it was on behalf of her entire species, and her species had betrayed the Luyten in spectacular fashion. There was no denying that. She took a deep breath, willed herself to calm down. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for those you lost, and for threatening to attack you. I wouldn’t have actually done it.”

Yes, you would.

Lila opened her mouth to tell the Luyten that she knew what she was and was not capable of, that it could take its telepathic righteousness and stuff it into one of its seven mouth-asses. Then she remembered she didn’t have to speak for it to hear her.

“Did you get all that?” she asked.

Yes.
It turned away, headed toward the sidewalk with a dolly full of crates. For a moment Lila thought the Luyten was ending the conversation. Then she remembered it could drive its truck eight miles and they could still hold the conversation.

“So is that the only reason you deigned to speak to me, to tell me you owe me nothing?”

I want you to understand that I’m not acting out of a sense of obligation, or fear.

A defender walking by stopped to look at Lila and Oliver. Lila turned to Oliver, so it would look as if she were speaking to him. “Then you’ll tell us how to find Five?”

Five sends Oliver his regards.

Her heart thumping, Lila repeated this to Oliver. Then she added, “Will he tell us what we want to know?”

Without the slightest pause, the Luyten replied.
We would do nothing. We would seek safety underground, even if the defenders tried to compel us to fight. And they surely would.

She repeated this to Oliver, word for word.

He nodded. “Now we know. Assuming they’re telling the truth.”

You should also be aware that the defenders know you’re contemplating an invasion.

“
What?
How do they know?”

Oliver started to ask what it had said, but Lila waved him off.

A Luyten told them. It’s difficult to break us when we’re psychically linked, but the defenders know to isolate us before they interrogate. They learned that from Oliver.

That did it, then. There was no way the Alliance would attack if the defenders knew it was coming.

They don’t. They know you’re
contemplating
an attack. None of you here in Australia knows for sure. The defenders are confident there will be no invasion.

As they headed back to the meeting in the sewer pipe, Lila wondered why the Luyten had decided to answer, if it truly wasn’t out of a sense of obligation or fear for its life.

Then it came to her. It was so obvious, now that she thought about it. They’d like nothing better than to have the Alliance wipe out the defenders, and weaken itself in the process. Then the Luyten could wipe out humanity. Surely the Alliance had thought of that. Of course they had. They had no intention of invading; this was all a feint, meant to get back to the defenders, so humanity would be in a stronger negotiating position.

Faruk Demir sidled up to Lila as they were leaving Ayami Ogego’s funeral service.

“Any word?”

Lila shook her head. “There won’t be. Either it’ll happen or it won’t.” They speculated in coded whispers; everyone had an opinion, but no one knew anything for sure. Meanwhile, the defenders were busy making plans for their diaspora. At this point the official response to the defenders’ “request” was “We’re considering it.” If they were really considering it, the ambassadors had not successfully conveyed to their respective countries just how unstable the defenders were.

“Has anything been communicated to you about … your own status?” Faruk asked.

“Nothing.”

She was tired of people asking, and she found herself getting irritable when the issue was raised. It seemed inconceivable that she could be compelled to stay in this lunatic asylum, yet even if the defenders’ other demands were resolved through peaceful means, it was conceivable the defenders would simply refuse to allow Lila to leave. What could Washington do, send in Navy SEALs in the middle of the night to steal her back? Actually, that might be their plan. The thought of being trapped here, with the other emissaries gone, was intolerable. She wouldn’t let Kai join her, no matter what. She wasn’t going to risk his and Errol’s lives.

Lila waved goodbye to Faruk as he headed toward whatever event was awaiting him next. His special defender friend was especially needy, and must hold a privileged position, because he rarely seemed to work. Lila had a free hour and decided to walk in Victory Park.

She admired the elaborate flower beds. Defenders seemed to favor sunflowers, likely because of their size. Lila wondered if they drew pleasure from flowers, or if they planted them simply because parks were supposed to have flowers.

Maybe she could negotiate some sort of guest-worker status with the defenders. That was a thought. She could agree to fly to Australia three or four times a year for a few weeks. She could tolerate that. The defenders were, after all, her life’s work. If they wanted more of their kind, she and Dominique could work on creating new defenders who were less volatile. These new defenders might even take on leadership positions, become examples for the existing defenders on how to be more reasoned, and less violent.

Her mood lightened as she walked, and planned. She was also feeling better because there were no Luyten around, she realized. Usually there were a few in the park, planting flowers or picking up the defenders’ trash. They never gave any indication they noticed her, but she knew they knew exactly who she was, and how she felt about them, and that bothered her.

Lila spotted a glint of green plastic buried in fallen leaves. She kicked it loose: a flattened Lido Lemonade bottle. She chuckled. “Bits of us are still here, even fifteen years later.”

A deafening honk made Lila jump. It was followed by another, and another. To her left, where she could see the road nearest her, defenders poured into the street.

“Oh, no.” Had they really done it? No. Surely it was a drill.

A deep roar, like the sound of a raging fire, rose from the east. Lila looked toward the sky.

The sound grew louder.

She jumped at the first
thump
. It was followed by a dozen more. Missiles rose overhead, angled toward the coast.

The roar from the east grew steadily louder, punctuated by ever more
thump
s.

Hundreds of Alliance bombers came into view on the horizon.

Many were being blown out of the sky by surface-to-air missiles, but they just kept coming, filling the sky. Cluster bombs shot from the bombers and curled toward the buildings below. She felt the impacts deep in her chest. Clouds of dust and debris rose as if in slow motion.

A terrible sadness enveloped Lila as she watched. The bombs kept dropping, leaping out of the fighters, surging toward the ground like they were eager to meet their targets. She watched, hand over mouth, as Victory Tower—the tallest building in the defenders’ so recently constructed city—seemed to slide sideways before tipping, crushing several other buildings as it crashed to Earth.

From horizon to horizon, the sky was filled with Alliance bombers. There were so many explosions they blended together to create one endless, deafening boom.

She had to find shelter, or she was going to die. Lila kicked off her shoes—heels for the funeral—and ran, her palms covering her ears. They’d planned to rendezvous in the sewer pipe if the invasion came, but it was too far. She had to find something nearby. She raced toward the streets.

Above, defender fighter jets roared into view, flying higher than the invaders. They fired cannon bursts, creating a series of blinding flashes, like a sudden burst of fireworks. Alliance aircraft seemed to disintegrate, raining onto the smoldering city.

As Lila reached the street she realized how stupid she’d been to kick off her shoes. There was broken glass everywhere.

Hearing gruff shouts, she ducked behind a parked vehicle. A platoon of defenders thundered past. On the other side of the street, a convoy of vehicles roared by, defenders squatting elbow to elbow in their beds, no doubt on their way to retrieve the heavy weapons stored out in the country. They must be loving this—more war at last. She thought of Erik, wondered where he was. They were special friends no more.

A new sound lit the air: dozens of huge booms, far away. Artillery fire, maybe naval gunfire? Alan had said the Alliance would pound the city from ships. Lila stumbled, caught herself, and pushed on as the tops of buildings disintegrated.

Pain lanced the underside of her foot. Lila stopped, balanced on one leg to examine it. A nasty shard of glass was sticking out. Eyes watering from the pain, she pulled it out and tossed it aside.

Something slammed into the side of her head, knocking her down. Blackness swept over her as she lay on the sidewalk, her cheek pressed to the concrete. She fought it, struggled to get to her knees. At first her body wouldn’t respond; her hands opened and closed spasmodically, clawing the pavement. Through sheer force of will she made it to her knees, touched the side of her head. There was a deep, straight gash an inch above her ear. It felt as if her scalp, her hair, was hanging lower than it should. Her hand came away bloody.