The man who spoke dips his head at Dad in a mock show of civility. “I am in charge of the rogue hybrids. ” I notice his crystal-blue eyes, his oval irises identical to Chris’s. Now that I see them on a stranger, I’m even more shaken that I never let myself recognize just how unusual they were.
The two other men with him stand on either side of the communication bay, their own guns out.
“I am the leader of the people you’ve tried to kill,” Dad says.
The man barks in laughter. “You have courage, I’ll give you that. It is your misfortune that you landed your shuttle now. A few decades earlier, and there wouldn’t have been as many of us. A few decades later, and the revolution would be over. We could have been friends then. But now? Now you’re aligned with the FRX, and we can’t have that. ” He sneers at Dad. “You’re going to do two things for us,” he says.
“I would rather die than do anything for you,” Dad growls.
The rogue leader looks at Chris. Chris steps forward until the round end of the barrel of my . 38 is pressed against my temple. I can feel the cool metal circle digging into my skull; I can smell the remains of gun oil and powder.
“What do you want me to do?” Dad says.
“We’ll start with your surrender. You’re going to call the FRX from this compound, and you’re going to issue your surrender to me and my people on your behalf and on the behalf of the FRX. ”
“They’ll come anyway,” Dad says.
“The only weapon that could do us any harm is the biological bomb. We’ve been stockpiling solar bombs for decades. Not to mention all the human hostages we’ll have to negotiate with. Without the biological weapon, they don’t stand a chance against us. ”
My stomach drops. Outside the window, the world is calm and peaceful. I imagine it exploding, torn apart by bombs and warfare.
Dad sits back down at the communication bay, wiping away the shards of glass scattered over it. We all watch as he types in his military codes.
“The disarmament function isn’t there . . . ” the rogue leader says. “What are you doing?” A new voice fills the communication room. “Colonel Martin, we have received your distress call,” a voice says. “The FRX stands ready to aid you. ”
“The hybrids have taken over!” Dad shouts as the rogue leader lunges for him.
“Do you want us to remotely activate the biological bomb?” the man on the other end of the line says. His voice is utterly emotionless. “Please give your military authorization code. ”
“No!” the rogue leader shouts. He shoves Dad away from the communication center.
“Zero-alpha-four-two-gamma,” Dad shouts. Half of the ten-digit code.
The rogue leader slams his fist into Dad’s face before he can finish speaking. The two of them grapple a moment, Dad’s hands around the man’s right arm, trying to wrest the weapon free—then the solar gun goes off, exploding a hole into the side of the building. Dad finally knocks it away from the rogue leader’s hands. One of the other men that came into the communication building with the rogue leader jumps into the battle. Chris watches, my . 38 pressed hard against my head.
“Please note,” the voice on the intercom says, “without the full code we will not authorize the remote launch of the bombs. We do not wish to destroy our slave labor force except as a last resort. ”
And I know: the people who sent us here in the first place, the ones that promised to protect us, have absolutely no problem sacrificing us. Not if it would mess up their “production. ” They would much rather have us and the rogue hybrids kill each other off than to lose all the resources they could harvest from the planet. Using Phydus—if anything, that would solve their problems for them.
The third man who came into the communication building with the others steps toward Chris and me. His neck muscles are tense, and he seems to be silently asking Chris some sort of question.
Chris nods, then turns to me. “You know what? I thought . . . I thought we could be something. ”
“We can never be what you want us to be. ”
Chris sneers. “Because I’m a hybrid?” he asks. “Or because of that boy?” I wonder if he even notices that he’s used the same word to describe Elder that my dad uses.
I glare at him, hoping he can see the hate in my eyes. “Your DNA has nothing to do with the reason why Elder’s a better man than you. ”
The other hybrid has moved out of my line of vision. I gasp in pain as something sharp pierces my arm. The man grabs hold of my shoulder firmly, digging his fingers into my arm so that, between his grip and the gun at my head, I cannot move.
But I can tell what’s happening. The other man has a syringe, and I can feel icy-hot liquid being injected into my bloodstream.
The rogue leader and his lackey have Dad back under control, and they slam him into the chair and turn his body to look at me.
The liquid feels like ice, and I have a sudden and sickening flashback to being pumped full of cryo liquid.
“What is that? What are you doing to my daughter?” Dad roars, trying to jump up and save me, but the rogue leader throws him back, grinning maliciously.