The central computer terminal sat in the middle of a low, round room. It was ringed with monitors and work-stations.

Orson watched the researchers erase much of their own work. He sat between the only two non-scientific survivors they’d discovered, the only heat blurs on his HUD that didn’t move in formations and weren’t congregated in the building’s control areas. Orson had judged the vague shapes in his goggles and found just those two survivors to save.

Loomy, Dr. Cornish’s beagle, slept in her carrier, still fast asleep from the medicine he had given her before the attack began.

On Orson’s other side, Airman Hernandez was similarly dozing. They’d found her in the burned remains of the chemistry lab, the lone survivor of some drastic effort to weaponize the materials stored there. Her face had only one minor cut, but her hands were both burned and now bandaged. Orson had used his full stock of mobile painkiller to ease her.

The contents of the emergency syringe were quite stale. He’d forgotten it sometime in the last five years, but it was likely better than nothing.

Hernandez lay on a makeshift stretcher they’d made from a cushioned tarp and metal supports, all cannibalized from the chemistry lab, where they’d found her.

Dr. Stanislakova stood from the station where she’d been working. She crossed the room to Orson, rather than raising her voice to speak.

“I have an idea to run by you,” she said. “I can get you the telemetry you’d need to find your island and destroy it in the central terminal, at the same time. If I begin a mobile download to my hand terminal, I can feed an old IHSA failsafe worm through the system. All Advisory equipment was still created with it, right until the end. Then you’ll have everything, and they’ll have nothing.”

“What about timing?” Orson asked. “I thought that was why you weren’t all doing full downloads.”

“If it’s the only running operation, it’ll be faster and harder to detect.” She slipped her flash drive into her coat pocket and drew a tablet device from her side bag. “This is why the Liberty Corps is here, isn’t it? They want what you want?”

Orson looked at the other researchers. If they’d heard her, they did nothing to show it. He didn’t need the group deciding he was responsible for the attack, at least not until he’d gotten them out of the building.

“Yeah,” he said. “I think they’re looking at me as a competitor.”

“I wonder why?” She asked ironically. “I can have the download running as we leave.”

“We might not have enough time.” Orson thought of his half hour, before Nefertiti departed the hilltop. If she and Ikaro left the hilltop, he’d need to handle escapes for all the researchers. “Give it a shot and get it started. We have to go.”

The other scientists wrapped up their download work. One-by-one they shut off their consoles, retrieved their limited memory storage, and rejoined Orson at the far wall.

“I’m going to try the failsafe worm,” Dr. Stan said. “Do we all agree Captain Gregory deserves the data the Liberty Corps is seeking?”

“They want your data?” Dr. Cornish lifted Loomy’s carrier, fitting the shoulder strap around his neck. “What could this militia want with ocean telemetry?”

“This isn’t the time or place,” Orson said. “I’ll give you the whole story once we’re safe.”

“I’m not leaving.” Dr. Pennington stepped forward. He forced his way between the others until he stood in front of Orson. “I’ve done my part. They won’t use my work. Now, take me to the armory. Please.”

“We all need to get out of here,” Orson said. “I’m sorry, sir, but there’s no way you’ll help anyone by staying.”

“I’m not leaving without my wife’s body,” he said. “This isn’t about revenge.”

“If you stay in this building,” Orson shook his head. “You’ll risk exposing all of us. I don’t have an extra infrared scanner. You won’t avoid patrols. And infrared can’t find the dead. Wandering the halls of this building will be extremely dangerous.”

“If I can’t take her with me… I’ll die here too.” Pennington turned away from the group, like he was fighting the urge to charge back into the hallway. Dr. Rios pressed both hands to his shoulders.

“Staying isn’t what Lana would want,” she said. “If she is gone, she died trying to save you. We’re looking at escape now. Please don’t throw your life away.”

“I don’t plan to die,” Pennington said. “But…” He took a ragged breath. His shoulders sagged. Orson didn’t know whether the man planned to run or was in danger of collapsing. “If they… If she’s gone… I need to know. I can’t lose her and not see her. Not again.”

The other researchers surrounded him. They did not speak, like their physical presence was enough to tie him to the rest of his life and keep him with them.

“I have no right to stop you,” Orson said. “But everyone who wants to go with the Antler Clan to their sanctuary needs to go now. Messing with the camera feeds in here was hard enough. The armory has to be…”

A siren broke the relative quiet. Orson flinched away from the sound, even before he had time to consider its purpose. The researchers did as well, all except Dr. Pennington.

Pennington tore away from Rios and the others. “I can lead them away from you,” he called without turning around. He sprinted through the terminal’s main door and was gone, out into the hallway.

The siren blared even louder when the speakers from the corridor added to the din. Dr. Rios started toward the door, but Orson caught her by the shoulder.

“Intruder alert.” Dr. Cornish was only audible because they all stood so close together. “They know. They detected the failsafe worm.” Cornish looked at Dr. Stan. “You need to stop the download.”

“No!” She replied. “I don’t believe it.”

“Then Captain Gregory failed to interrupt the cameras,” Cornish continued.

“We have to shut up and leave,” Orson said. “Come on, I’m taking up the rear again.”

“You’re sure everyone else was Liberty Corps?” Dr. Rios asked. “You’re one hundred percent sure ?”

“I’m as sure as I can be,” Orson said. “And I’m totally sure there’s no one we could’ve reached without me fighting the whole force.” He turned back to the hole in the wall, but the others still didn’t follow him. “What?” He mouthed the word, rather than shout it, as he walked back to them.

“What if they know we’re using the ventilation?” Dr. Cornish asked.

“Then that’s more reason to move faster.” Orson took a scan of the sliced wall and saw no heat, no oncoming attackers. “Come on.”

* * *

Operative Trace Divenoll was still exploring the lab complex’s failed battlements when the intruder siren began. The perimeter cannons were physical ordinance, spaced twenty feet apart, along the perimeter wall and on the grounds of the complex. They had no energy weapons, no smart projectiles, and only rudimentary shielding.

Why hadn’t they taken this place years ago? Who would have stopped them?

The ground was littered with bodies of the fallen defenders. Most wore armor and full combat gear, but others wore the blue Advisory jackets or civilian clothing.

Bloodless dead accounted for most of the fallen, those who had been killed by blaster and plasma bolts. Some were torn apart, hacked into pieces, or were crushed and broken beyond all recognition. Liberty Corps Shapers had played their part, but not Divenoll.

Divenoll had seen none of the combat. His skimmer had been the last to arrive. The bombing run had destroyed most of the opposition before the rear wave landed.

And that was a shame. He’d been practicing. He was hoping for living targets. He needed to test his studies before Baron Helmont saw them firsthand.

The alarm meant he might get his chance.

“Sir Jarod to all commands.” The Knight was soft-spoken, but his words were precise, his diction crisp. “Sir Rowan has engaged with the Aesir crew. Gregory is believed to be here, in the laboratory. The Lord Baron and the Manifest Destiny are en route. Find Gregory. He may have the key of the forbidden castle. Kill Gregory, but the key must not be harmed.”

Gregory! Orson Gregory had ruined his reputation at the derelict graveyard. Gregory had destroyed his ambitions as completely as he had the dropship he’d pulled from the sky.

Ending Gregory meant promotion. Retrieving his key meant knighthood. Doing both was redemption, so perfect it felt like destiny.

Divenoll drew iron-alloy ingots from his belt. A rush of warmth ran along his armor and his skin. Then he recited his mantra and no longer felt the heat, as his temperature-sensitive gauntlets protected his flesh from the searing metal he manipulated.

Own the body. Rule the mind. Command Nickel and Chromium. Follow them to fire.

His gauntlet igniters glowed white-hot. Small flames came to life above his raised fists.

* * *

Orson flew Airman Hernandez onto the hilltop. He found the shaded place where her stretcher waited, near the reuniting researchers. They’d surprised Orson with their agility, safely navigating the lab and the catwalk back to the hill. He’d feared leaving the generator passage, but Dr. Cornish had released a small ladder that descended from the structure and back to the catwalk below.

No one had found them, and they’d seen no one. The siren was now a distant fear. All of the researchers were in the forest, except Dr. Stan, who was at the very edge of the catwalk, completing the download.

“Everybody ready?” Orson asked.

“This is everyone?” Dr. Ikaro made eye contact with Orson. She had not asked him about Lana Pennington, and he was too worried about the group morale to mention her. They would have time for that conversation on the trip back through the forest.

“Sophia is doing a failsafe and download,” Dr. Rios said. “Then we’re ready.” Ikaro nodded, but she didn’t reply. Nefertiti had approached them and begun to gesticulate, stabbing her forelimbs out ahead of her.

“It’s incredible to see you alive,” Ikaro said. “But it’s time to leave.”

“Go on ahead,” Orson said. “If Dr. Stan isn’t done yet, we need to cut this short.” Dr. Cornish adjusted Loomy’s carrier. The others divvied up their small personal items and prepared to carry Airman Hernandez.

Orson walked back to the cliff’s edge.

“Doctor Stan,” he called to her. “It’s time to wrap this up.”

“I’m just about done,” she answered.

“You need to be done now,” Orson said. “It’s time to…”

UNKNOWN PROJECTILE! TARGET LOCK! HEAD SHOT – 100%

Orson dived to the ground. Something small whistled by, above him. He rolled to the side in time to see another projectile soar past him, and them another. Orson drew his sword and jumped to his feet.

There was a new shape on the hilltop, burning with heat in the infrared scan – a Shaper.

“RUN!” Orson fired his repulsor and blasted at the Shaper. “They found us.”

The Shaper wore Liberty Corps officer armor, but the closer Orson came, the stranger it looked. The armor’s gauntlets were scaled and ended in barbed iron tips.

These were the projectiles that almost hit him. More pieces of iron fired free from the Shaper’s fists.

Orson deactivated his repulsor. He fell like a stone and dropped down below the arc of the iron projectiles. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw more infrared shapes.

Liberty Corps forces ran from the lab. It wasn’t an impossible horde, but too many for Orson to count, while under attack.

The Shaper tried to launch more iron, but he’d run out of time. The sword of fire removed both of his gauntlets. The scaled armor fell to the ground with the man’s forearms. He howled, shock and agony. He fell to his knees. If the other Liberty Corps forces didn’t know they’d found Orson Gregory, they did now.

Orson heard a second, faint yell, a fearful cry from the cliffside. Orson jumped toward the edge. A squad of Liberty Corps troops poured along the catwalk. They hadn’t opened fire, but Dr. Stan was now in clear view of their pursuers.

Orson flew over the edge. Dr. Stanislakova stood at the bottom of the cliff. She was clutching at a jutting rock, trying to climb one-handed as she forced her tablet back into her bag.

A Liberty Corps Officer with glowing gauntlets rushed from the formation. He entered a wide stance, with both closed fists aimed forward.

Fire flew from his hands, in a burst like a flamethrower – straight at Dr. Stan.

Orson again deactivated his repulsor. He dropped and landed just feet in front of the scientist, his sword raised.

Red fire and blue collided in an explosion that bore Orson backward. He slammed into Dr. Stan, but he kept the fire sword steady and regained his footing.

Dr. Stan screamed, but Orson had no time to respond to her. The officer had sent another fire blast. Orson braced himself, anchored himself with his repulsor boot.

When the fires met, the sword absorbed the officer’s strike. Steam issued from the sword, a gout of heat that expanded in all directions.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for this, Gregory.” The officer maintained his power stance. A crowd of other Liberty Corps forces aligned behind him. Orson saw two more slit-visored knights, one who bore a cleaver in each fist and another with scaled gauntlets like the scout Orson had fought on the hilltop.

“Yeah, I bet you have,” Orson said. “After what I did to Nine-flails, I bet every one of you morons thinks you’re the one to kill me.”

Had the researchers on the hilltop listened to him and fled? He couldn’t turn and scan for their heat. He hoped they’d gone. With Nefertiti’s expertise, they might still escape.

Dr. Stan moaned behind him, like she was injured. But there was no way he’d hit her that hard.

“You with me, Doc?” Orson asked. “Don’t worry about these shits. I’ve been fighting them all year.”

“It’s gone.” She spoke in a low voice. “I dropped my datapad in the river!”

Without turning his head or letting his glowing goggles wander from the Liberty Corps, Orson glanced at the catwalk’s edge.

He saw no sign of the datapad, but there was nothing to stop its fall. The dropoff beside the catwalk led straight down into the Rio Persistente’s current, twenty feet down.

Whether or not the worm had worked, the data to help him find the Hidden Island was lost.

“You’re under arrest Orson Gregory.” The Knight with the scaled gauntlets forced his way around the officer who’d sent the fire. “On charges of murder, conspiracy, civil unrest, civil disobedience…”

His words were drowned out by a deep, guttural horn that bellowed from the sky. It was still distant, but Orson knew the sound. He’d heard the war horn chorus thundering over Norlenheim. He’d fought those ships. He’d believed they’d all been destroyed.

The Liberty Corps had a Starbird Carrier, one of the two-mile-long IHSA warships, once stolen by Thunderworks.

Orson turned on his microphone. “Stop your troops! Stop your ship. You’re going to let your former hostages leave here, and you’re going to lay down your arms until I’m gone.”

“If you’re expecting a rescue from your Aesir,” the fire-throwing officer said. “They aren’t coming. Sir Rowan is apprehending them as we speak.”

“Isn’t one of you in charge?” Orson asked. “Take five seconds and pick a spokesman. What would your Baron say if he heard you all squawking at me?” With his free hand, he reached into the hood of his coat and drew out his Dreamside Road key, the medallion that bore his mentor’s symbol. “You’ll free my crew and my ship too.”

The Knights stepped forward. The one with the blades got into a stance like he was about to jump the ten-foot distance between them.

“Nobody move!” Orson held the Dreamside Road Key over the glowing blue of his fire sword. “Nobody move, or I destroy my key, and then none of us will have the Dreamside Road.”