“How could he?” Diesel didn’t seem convinced it wasn’t possible.
“I don’t know, but I’m with Axel,” Cam said. “Indigo Smith seems to be able to do the impossible. Maybe we should check into an Earth connection.” He sounded especially on edge. It made sense, as he was the one in charge of security for the Big Bang Truck Stop, both upstairs and down.
Cam took his duties very seriously. “I mean, how is he loose and missing from the gulag ship where none of the prisoners were supposed to wake from their cryo-sleep chambers until arriving on XkR-9, the miserable gulag planet?”
Axel raised his hand in a semi-shrug. “It’s entirely possible that it was because of the excessive solar flares.”
“Excessive solar flares?” Diesel’s eyes narrowed. “Didn’t you say something about that a couple of weeks ago?”
“I did. I just didn’t think you were listening.” Axel managed a half smile, then sobered. “Speculation from Alpha-Prime is that excessive solar flares from the sun, apparently a common occurrence here, never happen in our galaxy and they’ve somehow messed with the operation of the cryo-pods carrying the alien prisoners.”
“Somehow messed with?”
“Okay, interfered. As in rendered the cryo-pods useless by spontaneously generating an out-of-cycle system check that rebooted each cryo-pod, allowing every one of the prisoners to thaw, wake up and for most of them escape. As a bonus, it also prevented the few guards tending them from accessing the information on their digital security devices until prisoners were racing past them into the woods behind the truck stop.”
Gage raised his hand. “I thought only some of the pods popped open.”
“Nope. Every single one opened up, but some of the prisoners—depending on their physiology—were more easily able to shake off the drugs from the cryo-freeze process. A handful never even made it out of their pods.”
“Not to be defeatist, but the only prisoner of the remaining five that I’m worried about is Indigo Smith. He’s smart, wily and could easily charm a little kid into giving up his whole stash of Halloween candy without the child shedding a tear.”
“Here’s a question,” Wyatt said. “Why aren’t the guards on the prison ship helping us search for the escapees? You’d think they would be prepared for this kind of thing.”
“Since the prisoners were supposed to be safely slumbering in cryo-pods, only three guards accompanied the ship,” Diesel explained. “They’re needed to guard the recaptured prisoners. Besides, none of them have ever been to Earth before. We’re better equipped for a ground search than they are.”
Wyatt nodded. “Makes sense. Are we going back out tonight?” he asked no one in particular.
He squeezed Valene’s fingers without looking at her. No one had noticed them canoodling and Valene was grateful. She hoped she could go back to Wyatt’s home and explain everything. Even if he didn’t get to remember it later. At least they could talk and discuss variouswhat ifscenarios. Then, once his memory was gone, she’d know what might have happened. A pain in her chest registered what it would be like to see Wyatt after his memory wipe. She shut that thought down. It was too painful to think about. If he lost his memory, she would be wise to never try to see him ever again. That made her eyes water.Stop it.Be positive.
Gage straightened from his hunch over a computer terminal a few feet away. “Hey! I just figured out a way to track the remaining prisoners.”
“How?” Cam said, already moving toward Gage.
They all crowded around his terminal. “The chemical drugs they use in the process to prep the cryo-pods are alien to Earth.” Valene heard someone snicker, probably Axel.
“Meaning what?” Diesel asked.
“Meaning that the substance doesn’t occur here on Earth, so it’s easy to spot.”
“Say it again in English,” Axel said.
Gage took a deep breath and seemed to center himself. “Once out of the cryo-pods the prisoners’ bodies will all emit this particular chemical, like a scent. It’s a very unique signature. One we can track using regular satellite imagery of the area.”
“Secret government satellites that you’ll have to hack into at great peril?” Axel asked.
“No. Regular ones anyone can use, but I can add my own filter and search overhead for wisps of the alien chemical.”
“How long will it take to set up the tracking?”
Gage shrugged. “Eight or ten hours to run it after I make some changes to my software, say another hour or two. The bad news—”
“Why is there always bad news?” Axel asked the question Valene suspected they were all thinking.
Diesel crossed his arms. “What’s the bad news, Gage?”
Gage cleared his throat. “Eventually the unique signature trail will no longer be in their systems.”
“What you’re saying is that we have a time limit?”
