The Secret War - 1st novel in the Shadow Series

Chapter 15

Vai

I opened the recording Owen sent me. It was night on Mars. The volo that had recorded this had filmed it in night vision so everything had a strange grayish tint. The volo hovered near the front of the house, behind a tree. It had a clear view of what was happening in front of my house.

Two Humans, one male, one female, were standing in front of the house, dressed in full combat armor, holding huge machine rifles at the ready. I looked for any kind of identifying insignia, but didn't see any. Something seemed off about them. I couldn't quite say what.

Behind them, more men and women, these in nondescript jumpsuits, were loading our belongings into four black vans that floated above the clover.

"What the hell..." I muttered.

I didn't know what was going on. I didn't know who those people were. There was a lot of weirdness going on here. I already knew that. It's not normal to wake up with your father shaking your shoulder, telling you he's just accepted a position with the Exploration Fleet and he bought a mechatronic bodyguard for you.

For that matter, it's also not normal to go to sleep the night of your 16th birthday, and wake up 80 years later, locked in your room, and the light is different, and the air smells different, and your father's voice is coming over your okulus telling you, Son? Try not to freak out. He has to explain some things now that you may find upsetting...

So. Was someone after him? Us?

Yet, that seemed strange. Why run? Why not report whatever was going on to the authorities? Obviously, these people outside my house were not the authorities. If they had been, their vans would have been marked—their uniforms would carry insignia. And if the authorities were after my father, we wouldn't be able to set foot on an Exploration Fleet starship with the old man as the Chief Science Officer, happily using our own actual credentials.

So were these people who were after us beyond the grasp of the authorities? Somehow?

These people stomped in and out of my house. I zoomed in. Now they were carrying out some kind of electronic equipment that I didn't recognize: beige boxes from which tangled messes of multicolored wires protruded. The wires were dragging carelessly across the yard.

The armored woman turned to look over her shoulder at the tree.

The video ended there.

I tried - and not for the first time - to connect to the news on Mars, but my father's reprogramming of my okulus was complete. I couldn't contact anyone on Mars or gather information about the happenings on Mars, not even if I tried to get it through news from Earth.

"Warpaint," I said. I rested on my bed and curled into my pillow.

"Yes, sir?"

He stirred from his usual place in the back right corner of my room and came to stand by my bed.

"Why did my father think I needed a bodyguard?"

"You're so very old and frail, sir."

"No," I sat up. "Something happened. I was awake on Mars for almost a year before he decided I needed a bodyguard. You're not programmed to watch out for anything specific? A specific group of people? A syndicate? A government?"

"No. Nothing like that, sir. Just your safety." Why did my father have to be so damn clever?

I picked at my pant leg until a small groove formed around my knee. I let out a sigh and straightened the pants.