‘Seems quiet,’ I say, scanning the feeds. ‘Is it always like this?’
‘No,’ Adam admits. ‘Something isn’t right.’
One of the Chimærae takes flight and repositions itself, getting an angle on one of the houses that we couldn’t see before. A trash truck is parked at the curb, its engine off.
‘There’s someone,’ Sam says, enlarging the feed.
A solitary Mogadorian holding a tablet computer stands next to the truck. He looks bored as he thumbs something into the tablet.
Adam squints at the tattoos on the Mogadorian’s scalp. ‘An engineer,’ he says.
‘You can tell that?’ I ask.
‘It’s in the tattoos. For trueborn, those are symbols of honor and what they’ve accomplished. The vatborn get job titles,’ Adam explains. ‘Makes it easy to order them around.’
‘There’s more,’ Sam points out.
We watch as four Mogadorian warriors carry a refrigerator-sized piece of computer equipment out of the house. They take it towards the curb and set it down in front of the engineer, then wait around while he circles the machine and inspects it.
‘Looks like a server,’ Malcolm observes. He turns to Adam. ‘Could they be replacing the equipment you destroyed?’
‘Possibly,’ Adam replies, but he doesn’t sound certain. He points out a two-level house with a porch a few doors down from where the Mogadorians are working. ‘That’s my old home. I know for certain there’s an access point to the tunnels through there, but the other houses likely have access, too.’
While Adam’s talking, the engineer finishes his inspection of the server. He shakes his head, and the other Mogs pick the equipment back up. They toss it into the trash truck, then return to the house.
‘I guess they aren’t big on recycling, huh?’ Sam says.
Before the first group of Mogs can head back into the house, a second group emerges. They’re carrying what looks like a barber’s chair from a bad sci-fi movie, the thing equal parts futuristic and frightening, wires and nodes dangling from it. The engineer hustles forward to meet this second group, helping them to ease the equipment gently on to the grass of the front yard.
‘I recognize that,’ Malcolm says, an edge to his voice.
‘Dr Anu’s machine,’ Adam says, turning to me. ‘That’s what they used on Malcolm. And on me.’
‘What’re they going to do with it now?’ I ask, watching the engineer begin his inspection.
‘This looks like a salvage team,’ Adam explains. ‘I did some damage to the tunnels the last time I was here. Now, they’re saving what equipment they can and getting rid of the rest.’
‘What about all the trueborns who were supposed to be here?’
Adam grimaces. ‘They might have been evacuated until this place can be brought up to spec.’
I widen my eyes at Adam. ‘So we drove out here for nothing? The trueborn are already gone and the machine is busted.’
‘No,’ he says, and I can see the gears turning behind his eyes. ‘If we can take out this salvage team before they get off a distress call, we’d have complete access to what’s left of Ashwood. From there, we can get on to their network –’
‘And that gets us what?’
‘It’s like if one of my people could open one of your Chests, John. We’ll know their secrets. What they’re planning.’
‘We’ll be one step ahead,’ I say.
‘Yes.’ Adam nods, watching the engineer as he evaluates Dr Anu’s machine. ‘But we should get in there. What the salvage team decides to destroy could still be useful to us.’
‘All right,’ I say, watching the Mog salvage team head back into the house. ‘So, is there a secret entrance or something?’
‘At this point, I think a direct assault is our best bet.’ He looks at me. ‘That all right with you?’
‘Hell yes,’ I reply. Originally, we’d planned to use our network of Chimærae surveillance to observe the Mogs for a while, figure out the most strategic approach to attacking. But, now that we’re here, I find myself itching to go into battle. I need some payback for everything they’ve done – for taking Ella, destroying Nine’s home, killing one of my friends. If Adam says we need to rush in, I’m ready to go.
Malcolm grabs a box from under the seat. From within, he produces two earbuds, one for me and one for Adam. The devices are connected to the pair of walkie-talkies Sam and Malcolm will be using. I slip mine into my ear and Adam does the same.
‘Are we at all concerned with the local authorities?’ Malcolm asks. ‘A firefight in broad daylight might attract some attention.’
Adam shakes his head. ‘They’re bought off,’ he says, then looks at me. ‘We will want to be quick, though. Kill them before they can call for reinforcements. If I can get past them into my old house, I should be able to cut off their communications.’
‘I can do quick,’ I reply.
I strap my Loric dagger to my calf, hidden under my trouser leg. Next, I clip my red bracelet around my wrist. The amber jewel in its center that expands to form a shield shimmers in the midday sun. Immediately, the bracelet jolts me with icy pinpricks, warning me there are Mogs in the area. Of course it would – there’s one sitting right next to me. Adam’s presence is going to really wreak havoc on my danger sense.