Three angels, dressed like farmers, stood at various stations around the perimeter. They tapped on the images hovering over their computer crystals.
I studied the machines with a mix of awe, confusion, and anger. The generator was small and wasn’t an efficient design. Whoever built it understood the basics but not how to refine it for maximum productivity. It was still an impressive feat, but ultimately a poor use of resources.
The communications station made little sense. Even with its advanced technology, it would be practically useless. Without relay stations to send messages across the galaxy, any messages they sent would take decades to reach their target. Anything it received would be so outdated, it would be worthless. Theamount of time invested in creating the device was a sunk cost with little-to-no return.
The weapon I understood, and it made me furious. This could destroy the entire state of Minnesota if it exploded. The crude casementmighthold up, but my money said when whoever built it tried to charge it, the containment vessel would fail, and it would destroy everything in a fifty-mile radius.
I’d used my watch to get detailed schematics on each device and was stalling, hoping to see the fourth angel. The way the other three acted, they were flunkies. I wanted an image of the leader to send back to Michael.
I heard a voice and the fourth angel came in through a side door. He had an air of smug satisfaction and the demeanor of a petty dictator. Pointing at each of the other three one by one, they came when summoned, let him review the information on their crystal, and scurried back to their places without a word. Someone got off on giving orders.
He turned and I paused. He was tall, boyish-looking, brown hair, trim build, clean-shaven, and carried himself like an athlete or fighter. If I’d been making a Grindr ad, those were the words I’d use to describe myself.
I never saw myself as an evil tyrant, but this guy had built some bad-ass machines that had little productive use outside warfare.
The man’s features were a slightly different version of me, or since he probably was older, I looked a lot like him. There were differences for sure. He had a sharper jaw, and a hard edge around the eyes, but the resemblance was there. I found it more than a little unsettling.
He moved around the space, studying readouts and issuing terse orders to his subordinates. Who was this man and what dark purpose fueled their work with Drevlin tech?
One of the flunkies gestured to the leader, drawing his attention to a particular display. The angel leaned in, lips curving into a cruel smile that twisted my stomach.
Time seemed to slow as the man lifted his gaze, eyes locking unerringly on the narrow gap I used to observe the inside of the room. For a visceral instant, I felt his stare pierce me, seeing straight through the invisibility shield.
The moment passed, and the leader turned away as he resumed his study of the console. My pulse thundered in my ears as I backed away.
Orion hadn’t moved, still guarding my back. I met Orion’s questioning gaze and motioned toward the exit. We retreated in tense silence, the weight of our grim discovery hanging over me.
Outside, he held up his hand and indicated we needed to keep walking. I filled my lungs with the fresh spring air, letting it clear away the darkness I felt in that barn. My pace was just shy of a jog, I was so anxious to get in the car.
Hopping in, I pulled the door shut and gave Orion a rundown on what I’d seen. I answered every question before I tested my theory.
“Describe Lael physically,” I said.
Orion looked understandably flummoxed. “What? Why are you asking me this now? What happened in there?”
He probably thought I was continuing the earlier conversation, but I needed to test a hunch. “Humor me, please.”
A flash of anger clouded his face, but I didn’t react. I wanted to be sure before I said anything. His continued glare made it hard, so I shifted gears. “Is he about my height, about my build, with brown hair and eyes, clean-shaven with a scar along his right cheek?”
“Zeke, what fucking game are you playing? If you’re insinuating something, say it.”
I didn’t need his answer to know I’d been right. “This isn’t a game, Ori.” I tapped my watch and called up the image of the leader. “This is the angel running this operation.”
I let him consume what I showed him. He reached out tentatively as if to touch the image. When he looked at me, I cocked my head. “That’s Lael, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “How’s this possible?”
I had the same question, but no answers. “Your guess is as good as mine, but one thing I’m sure of: Michael knew Lael was involved in this mess.”
The entire operation was too convenient. My skills, Orion’s link to the leader, how I had a similar look to Lael. It all fit too perfectly together.
I needed to get back to the house so I could take a walk or something. With all the manipulation involved, I didn’t know what was real and what Michael orchestrated. I needed to know before I went any further with the mission or with Ori.
Seeing his expression, I guessed he was having similar thoughts.
“Let’s get back to the house,” I said.
It wouldn’t have answers, but at least I could find a place to be alone and think this through like a good detective. I probably wouldn’t like the answer, but an unwanted answer was better than none.
