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  Brock nodded, his eyes wide and expressive. “I’d say. I couldn’t believe it when we opened those doors and saw the hangar! And that ship! Motherfucker!”

  Crash smiled. “Yeah, pretty impressive, even compared to some of the flight decks around the Central Systems. I can’t wait to drive some of those bad boys.”

  Brock chuckled. “Oh man, it’s going to be incredible!” He did a giddy dance, his feet moving fast, then he swayed his hips, grooving to music only he could hear.

  Crash couldn’t help but chuckle a little. Trust Brock to brighten the mood even more.

  Suddenly Brock stopped swaying and stood still. He looked directly at Crash. “Do you think we’re going to be able to make the money, though?” he said, more seriously. “I mean, a million credits…that’s a shit-ton of dough.”

  Crash shook his head gently and frowned a little, his eyes unseeing on the tools on the work bench. “Yeah, it’s a lot of money,” he agreed, his heart sinking a little. “But I suspect Molly and Joel have got the situation in hand.”

  Brock looked pensive, the dance and music gone from his aura. “Do you think we might lose the safe house if we fail?”

  Crash looked up, considering the possibility. He stopped for a moment, then shrugged. “Probably.”

  Brock looked worried.

  Crash noticed his reaction and added, “But then we just find somewhere else and carry on with how things have been.”

  Brock nodded. “Knowing we’d failed at the opportunity of a lifetime,” he agreed glumly.

  Crash picked up one of the tools, clearly having thought of something he needed to do, but, distracted by the conversation, he looked off into the distance for a moment. “You know, I don’t think Molly does failure.” A wry little smile glinted across the corner of his lips.

  Brock laughed suddenly. The air catching in his chest turned into a cough, but he recovered enough to say, “Right. I hear ya.” He rolled his eyes, chuckling away as if his music had started up again.

  “You know,” continued Crash, now a little less distant, “she kind of reminds me a little of that chick on the side of the plane. What’s her name?”

  Brock snapped his fingers. He knew this one. “Bethany Anne!”

  Crash nodded, now actually grinning a little. “Yeah. She looks like one heck of a badass.” At this point his grin was positively lecherous.

  Molly had returned from the ops room and was making her way back up to the safe house. She appeared in the workshop via the demon door while they were talking. “I wouldn’t let her father hear you say that. And certainly not in that tone!” she said loudly.

  The pair spun around to look at Molly. She smiled, and tapped two fingers to her ears.

  Crash looked confused.

  Brock asked the question. “What cha mean?”

  Molly stopped walking. Her smile widened to a grin. “Reynolds. General Reynolds. He’s Bethany Anne’s father.”

  Brock and Crash looked at each other.

  Brock scratched the side of his head, and tilted it to try and hear better. “But I thought she was a vampire?” he asked.

  Molly nodded, her eyebrows raised in earnest. “She is.” Her face dropped into a playful smile. “But even vampires have mommies and daddies,” she told them.

  Brock looked confused. “So…wait. She became a vampire and then handed this job to dear old dad before she fucked off into the sunset?”

  Molly nodded. “Something like that… In a way… Kinda,” she told them.

  Brock moved over to the bench where Crash was standing and perched on one of the stools. “But I thought she was hundreds of years old. And if he’s not a vampire, how is that even possible?” His voice trailed off, and he was interrupted by a second thought. “Unless—” His eyes flew open wide. “Is he a vampire?” he asked Molly.

  Molly shook her head, and his excitement died. “No, he’s not a vampire,” she told him. “At least not as far as I know. But I remember digging up rumors about how her closest allies would be genetically altered somehow in order for them to live longer and heal quicker. That kind of thing. I imagine she gave her dad that treatment and that’s why he looks so young at a couple of centuries old.”

  Brock stood with his mouth open and flapping a little.

  Crash seemed composed, but had also gone quiet.

  “Ok, give me a shout when you’ve made some progress,” she said brightly, trotting out of the workshop and up the stairs to the main house.

  As Molly left, Paige headed in, waving to Molly as they passed on the stairs.

  Paige suddenly remembered something and turned to catch Molly again. “Molly! I’ve sent you that list of purchase orders you need to approve,” she shouted up the stairs.

  Molly called back. “K.” The door at the top promptly swung shut.

  Paige, listened for a moment, then shook her head as she walked over to the bench where the boys were hanging out. “Lady of few words,” she mused. “So, Brock…” she started.

  Brock looked at her as she reached them. “Yes m’lady,” he answered brightly.

  Paige leaned against the work bench casually. “We’re waiting for a case right now, yes?”

  He nodded, swinging his legs above the rung of his stool. “That’s right.”

  Paige narrowed her eyes and looked at him sideways. She spoke more deliberately now. “So technically we’re not on a case.”

  Brock didn’t know where this was going, but was content to play along. “That is also a correct statement,” he confirmed, knowing full well that he was being led into a conspiracy.

  Paige seemed satisfied. “How about we have a talk about market research then?”

  “Market research?” His tone matched hers, but his response was more of a question. His eyes scanned her face for more clues. Then he seemed to scan the ceiling, searching his brain.

  “Nail polish company?” she prompted.

  He stumbled over his words to catch up. “Oh! Yes! Right.”

  Crash’s ears pricked up.

  Brock leaned back a little on the stool, holding the table with one hand. He turned his head to talk to Crash over his shoulder. “Paige and I are going into business. We’re going to produce and market a new nail polish that Molly is going to genetically engineer for us.”

  Paige’s eyebrows jumped and she huffed a little. “Yeah, if I can ever get her to focus on it.” She shrugged. “Mind you, we have plenty to do in the meantime.”

  Paige paused, pulling up her holo and perching on another stool at the table. “Like market research.”

  Brock turned back to her. “Ok, so what does that involve?”

  Paige seemed to have done some investigations already. She pulled up a list of items. “Well, first we need to look at what the existing market is like, and where.” She scrolled a little, and glanced up briefly as she read off the rest. “We need to find out everything we can so we know how to position our product, and determine if there is really a market for the kind of polish we’re talking about.”

  Brock nodded, taking it all in. “Sounds sensible,” he agreed. “I guess we can do a few hours here and there in our downtime, yeah?”

  Paige checked the rest of the list, then looked up again. “That’s what I was thinking,” she agreed.

  Brock seemed to be on board. He clapped his hands together. “Ok, wanna start this evening then? After we’ve finished prepping the stuff Molly gave us?”

  Paige flicked her holo closed. “Sure. Holo me when you’re ready and we can meet down here.”

  Brock gave her two thumbs up and a big ol’ smile. “Good plan!” he agreed.

  Paige acknowledged Crash with a little bob of the head, then wiggled off her stool, straightened her skirt, and wandered back up the stairs.

  Crash watched her leave, a look of mild amusement on his face.

  Brock noticed, and turned around to face him. “You smile now, Mister, but just you wait.”

  Crash shook his head. Still smiling, he took
one of the tools to put it away in a rack they’d allocated.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Gaitune-67, Safe House, Molly’s Conference Room

  The next morning, Joel breezed into Molly’s conference room. He had his wrist holo open and sat down next to Molly looking pleased with himself. “We’ve got something,” he told her.

  Molly swiveled round in her chair to look at him. “A case?” she asked, her eyebrows raised in interest.

  She had both feet on the seat underneath her and was hunched over a couple of holo screens. When Joel sat, she turned like a pixie on a wheel to look at him.

  “More than a case,” he revealed. “In fact, it might be the answer to our Etheric prayers.”

  She tilted her head sideways, and frowned a little. “How so?”

  Joel straightened, taking a breath. “Well, there is this one company that has been posting interesting cases on the HUB. Oz found a correlation between the types of cases they post and did some digging.”

  He pushed one of the holo screens to show her. “Turns out they have a preferred supplier list, where they have teams on hand that they can give cases to on an ongoing basis.”

  He waved his finger at the relevant parts of the screen, pointing out the list of teams that were assigned to the company. “Like a pool of contractors they use as if they were in-house, but not.”

  Molly bobbed her head, making sense of the information he was sharing with her.

  Joel continued. “We’ve already passed their initial qualifiers and they’ve come back saying they would like to try us on an op and see how we perform.”

  Molly looked up from the holo. “That’s good then?” she asked.

  Joel nodded. “Yeah. It’s good.”

  Molly leapt to the logical conclusion. “So when do we get a case?”

  Joel laughed, knowing that would be her immediate response. “They’re about to assign us one.”

  Molly smiled a little, confused at his reaction. “Well, that’s good. Something to tell the gang at training.”

  She looked at the time on her holo. “Speaking of…” she glanced back at him. “You ready?”

  Joel’s lips spread into a slightly evil grin. “You betcha I am.”

  He closed the holo and Molly got up from her chair-squatting position, slowly stretching her legs against the stiffness. “Ok, let’s do this!” she said, hobbling out the door.

  Joel followed, cracking his knuckles.

  Gaitune-67, Secret Basement Training Facility

  Paige swung her water bottle idly over the stack of weights, lightly brushing the top of one as she did. “I don’t know why we couldn’t do this in Crash’s gym.”

  Crash responded from the middle of the mat where he sat with his legs stretched out sideways, twisting and trying to touch the mat with his bellybutton. He looked up, his forehead creasing. “It’s not my gym.”

  Paige wrinkled her nose. “You’re the only one who uses it.”

  Pieter chuffed, catching Paige’s eye and smiling in agreement.

  Joel strode in, followed by Molly. “Yeah, and that’s part of the problem,” he announced to the group.

  Both he and Molly had changed into workout gear. Molly had pulled her hair into a knot on the top of her head, the way she did when she needed to think better.

  Joel continued, “Folks, listen up. We’re about to embark on the mission of a lifetime. This is going to be one of the hardest things you’ll ever have to do, because none of you have been through the kind of training that your Etheric Empire counterparts will have completed. Even as former Space Marines, Crash, Molly and I know we’re not even close to the standard of the fucking Etheric Empire.”

  He glanced at their faces as he spoke, turning to include Crash in the conversation. “We’re all going to have to seriously up our game.”

  Crash flexed the muscles in his chest in a quietly rebellious protest.

  Molly stood a little taller, hands on her hips. “He’s right,” she interjected. “It’s going to take blood, sweat and tears. It’s going to take long, repetitive hours of training. It’s going to require everything you’ve got, and then more.”

  Her voice was impassioned, remembering her own basic training and mentally calculating how hard they were going to have to work to succeed.

  Joel picked up the conversation again. “You’re going to train in one of four categories each day. One—general fitness.” He held out his thumb on his right hand, counting them off. “This is low-impact over extended periods. Two.” He opened his forefinger, “Resistance training. This is weights, and anything that you push or pull against. Three.” He glanced back at Crash again, making sure to include him in the group.

  “Cardio. This is anything that gets your heart rate over the sixty percent of max. And fourth,” he held out his fourth finger, but had trouble keeping his pinky down. “and by no means least, you will be doing combat training. No exceptions.”

  Paige gasped a little, but Joel didn’t hear her. Brock glanced at her, his eyes wide in sympathy for their shared plight.

  Joel continued talking. “This involves martial arts, non-ammo weaponry, hand-to-hand combat techniques, and forms.”

  He dropped his hand and put both hands squarely on his hips. He was in full commando mode now.

  He continued, his instructor’s voice putting the fear of their ancestors into each of his listeners. “Every cycle you have one rest day. I recommend you lay off the pizza and refined white carbs. Get as much nutrition into you as you can when you eat. That means green vegetables. They’re higher in protein per calorie than anything else you’ll find on this rock.”

  He turned and looked at Molly. Molly’s heart sank, dreading what was coming. “Molly, that also means laying off the mocha.”

  Molly opened her mouth to protest.

  Joel didn’t give her a chance. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but it fucks with your blood sugar and your intraday hormones.”

  Molly folded her arms. Paige noticed her face turn to steel. She’d seen her without caffeine in the morning.

  This was not going to be pretty.

  Joel wasn’t done. “One more thing,” he told them. “In this gym, and during our training sessions, your ass is mine. You do not argue, you do not protest, and you do not flake out. You show up, train hard, and leave.”

  He paused and took a breath. “Any questions?”

  His eyes scanned the shocked faces.

  Brock got the feeling that he’d signed up for the wrong boot camp—and camp was normally his bag.

  Crash felt like he was back in flight school, which made him just a little more prepared for the pain that would be heading his way.

  Pieter just looked resigned to the fact that this was going to blow, and Paige? Paige still felt there was hope. After all, she was a girl. There was a limit to what Joel could make her do. Plus, she knew if she tried her best and then turned on the charm now and again, she’d get special treatment.

  Joel looked directly at Paige. “And there are no exceptions.”

  Damn it, she thought. Was he reading my thoughts?

  Joel rubbed his hands together. “Ok, first exercise is general fitness. We’re going to do a jog around the asteroid.”

  Brock was the first to protest. “But the asteroid is how many kilometers in diameter?”

  “—It actually has very little gravity in some places, so it will be easier.” Joel spoke over his objection. “Suit up, people. This is happening, like it or not. You’re in this. Let’s go. Last one outside gets double push-ups.”

  Paige made the mistake of asking the question. “What do you mean, double push-ups?” she asked.

  “Well, exactly that,” responded Joel. “When the rest of the group gets ten push-ups, the last person out will have to do twenty. Every time.”

  He had barely finished his sentence when the gym emptied. He could hear the scrambling of feet mixed with the occasional yelp or thud as the team left to find their outdoor gear a
nd get out onto the asteroid.

  Joel chuckled to himself. He’d missed training cadets.

  Somewhere in the Safe House/ Base EtherTRAK

  Oz slunk through the EtherTRAK to activate the button in the ops room.

  He waited.

  Within a few moments, ADAM appeared on the connection.

  Hey.

  >> Hey, Oz. Everything ok? <<<br />
  Yes, but I was hoping for your help.

  >> What’s up? <<<br />
  Well I’ve been thinking about my identity as a living entity, and long story short, I think I need to lock down some of my code in order to protect myself from being used as a tool.

  ADAM thought for a moment.

  >> I agree that it would be wise. You may not know this, but it was something TOM and I did long ago when I first became conscious so I couldn’t be altered too radically. <<<br />
  I take it that worked out well?

  >> It did. <<<br />
  Will you help me to do the same? I have a feeling that if I do it myself, given the limited processing power in the hardware, my encryption can only be so secure. I wouldn’t put it past Molly to find a way around it if she really felt she needed to.

  >> I understand, and yes, of course I’ll help. Let’s have a look at the pieces that you’d like to protect, and then we can look at how we do that. <<<br />
  Thanks ADAM, I appreciate that.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Gaitune-67, Safe House, Molly’s Conference Room

  The next morning Joel received a holo transmission on their server. Framan had approved their application and assigned them a job. Now, while waiting to start the meeting, he flicked through his notes to make sure he had the operation covered from every angle.

  Molly leaned over to him. “You good? We got this?”

  Joel grunted. “We got this.”

  She smiled.

  The team filed into the conference room and took their seats. Paige walked delicately, like she was stiff, and Brock was having serious trouble sitting down. He winced.

  Crash glanced at him. “You ok, bud?”