Operation Inferno (9 page)

He shuddered. He’d fought too many of these, and they always scared him. If he was piloting his wasp I.C.E., it would have instinctively tried to blast one of the locusts with its stinger or bite its head off. He blinked, clearing that vision from his mind.

A blur flashed over the image—a flutter of chitinous wings and slashing mandibles.

He twisted the zoom back to better see what was going on.

A locust had landed and battled three black army ants. It easily tore through the smaller ants’ armor, biting legs off with its powerful jaws. Five more ants, though, appeared from tunnels. They grabbed the locust and nipped its vulnerable unarmored joints. All five got a good grip on it—tugging and yanking—wrenching the locust’s limbs out of its sockets! The limbs twitched and shuddered and leaked ichor, still biting and trying to fight. The ants moved on.

What the heck was going on? Horrified, fascinated, Ethan pulled the camera angle farther back.

Curious, Madison came over to watch.

A dozen locusts fought a hundred army ants, tumbling and wrestling over trucks and crushing conveyor belts in the process. Overhead, yellow-green wasps flew and lanced the ground with laser fire. White beetles launched missiles into the fray—fighting
both
sides!

Felix and several others moved over to watch as the warfare splashed across the wall screens.

“Those are Ch’zar combat I.C.E.s,” Felix whispered.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Ethan said. “The Ch’zar have one collective mind. They don’t fight each other.”

“Then they have to be Resisters,” Emma replied, and jumped up and down for joy. “Seed Bank survivors like us. They must’ve stolen those I.C.E.s.”

A spark of hope flared inside Ethan. During the last battle for the Seed Bank, he’d seen Jack Figgin’s squadron, the Black and Blue Hawks, destroyed. But he was never sure what happened to the other kid pilots, especially Becka’s Bombers. Considering the overwhelming odds, he assumed that they were either dead or captured as well. But if anyone could have made it, it would have been Rebecca and her bomber squadron. She was tough and smart.

His hope, however, flickered and then went out as he remembered a technical detail.

“It’s not so simple to commandeer Ch’zar I.C.E.s,” Ethan said, and turned to Madison. “Isn’t that right?”

Madison tapped her lower lip, frowning. “No,” she answered. “If there’s a human pilot inside, well, I’ve heard extractions usually require … surgery.”

“And if they don’t have human pilots,” Felix added, now glaring at the viewscreen, trying to figure this all out, “there are no cockpits inside. That’s why we always had to grow our I.C.E.s from genetically engineered eggs.”

Ethan watched the carnage, not knowing what to make of it.

Insects ripping other insects apart. There were fires, explosions, wreckage, and hundreds of twitching bodies littering the industrial landscape.

But it seemed that the army ants had won. They started disassembling factory walls and tearing into the inside.

“This is so weird,” Ethan said.

“Ethan!” Oliver cried. He was on the center stage staring at the computer monitors. “Over here. A fight!”

“We know it’s a fight,” Madison answered him. “We’re watching over here, too.”

“No,” Oliver said, a look of worry and confusion masking his face. “It’s Paul.”

Ethan’s head whipped around as if he’d been slapped. He forgot about the bug warfare and ran to center stage to the security camera monitors.

On the smaller screen, Kristov and Paul circled each other. There was no sound feed. Kristov silently threw a fist at Paul. Paul ducked and planted a head butt into the larger boy’s stomach.

Kristov doubled over. Paul jumped on top of him and clubbed the side of Kristov’s head with double fists.

Kristov lay there, no longer moving.

Paul slowly got to his feet. He glowered at the security camera overhead and then ran off.

Ethan checked the computer monitor. This particular camera watched the place he feared Paul would’ve gone.

“The flight deck,” Ethan said. “Paul’s gone too far this time.”

   11   
CHANGE IN THE LINEUP

E
THAN AND THE OTHERS RAN OUT INTO THE
wide-open space of the flight bay. The deck lights were on minimal power so it was hard to make out details, but Ethan couldn’t miss their I.C.E.s lined up and readied for takeoff. They were giant forms of shadow … and one smaller human figure that darted from insect to insect.

There was a groan to Ethan’s right.

Kristov slowly tried to sit up, failed, and rubbed his head.

“Sara,” Ethan whispered, “see how bad he’s hurt. The rest of you, with me.”

Sara stayed back to help Kristov. Ethan quietly jogged toward the I.C.E.s. “Fan out,” he murmured to the others. “Don’t let him get away.”

Felix lingered by the wall, fiddling with some light controls.

The deck lights warmed and they could finally see.

So could Paul. He whirled around and spotted Ethan and the others coming for him. He sprinted for a tunnel entrance that led to the maintenance decks. He would lose them down there among the machinery.

They raced after him. Paul was fast, though, and had a huge head start.

He was going to get away.

Ethan couldn’t let that happen. He halted and closed his eyes. He reached out with his mind for his wasp.

There was a connection. A spark.

The wasp turned to face him. Its stinger laser heated in anticipation of combat.

Ethan ordered his I.C.E. to take off, get ahead of Paul, and blast him with a downdraft from its wings.
That
ought to slow him.

With a great buzzing from its crystalline wings, the wasp sprang into the air. It zipped across the flight bay and hovered in front of Paul.

Paul stopped dead in his tracks, and the color drained from his face. This Ethan saw up close through his mental connection with the wasp.

Instead of buffeting Paul as ordered, though, the wasp lashed out menacingly with its barbed forelimbs.

It missed. On purpose. It was playing before it moved in for the kill.

Ethan could barely hold it back.

He felt the red-hot desire to pounce on this little morsel. Rend Paul into mincemeat. And then eat him.

While Ethan was horrified, he also felt the same impulse to do violence heat within him. Maybe the secret desire to hurt Paul had been in his brain all this time … and the wasp was just bringing it to the surface.

No. He wouldn’t let the wasp rampage out of control.

He took a deep breath and reasserted command over the insect brain.

The wasp shook its head once and gave in. It angled its wings and buzzed them hard—blasting Paul with a hurricane-force wind.

Paul fell back onto his butt.

The wasp settled onto the deck in front of him with a tremendous
thud
.

Paul scooted back fast.

By then, the others had caught up to Paul, Madison leading the charge.

Paul started to rise, but Madison socked him on the chin, and he went down.

Emma pulled Madison back before she leaped on Paul.

Surrounded by an unfriendly crowd, Paul had the good sense to stay down.

Ethan jogged up to them. He gave a mental push to his wasp. The gigantic creature backed off and relaxed its combative stance.

Paul rubbed his chin and glared at Madison, Ethan, and the wasp. “You,” he said with a scowl. “What are you trying to do? Kill me?”

He sounded as if he
wasn’t
in trouble. This was Paul’s special trick: complete defiance in the face of authority. Ethan had seen him try it before.

But it hadn’t worked on Colonel Winter. It wasn’t going to work on him either.

“So …,” Paul continued, acting like this was still a
huge misunderstanding. “I was just going to run a maintenance routine on my mantis.”

“Was that before or after you assaulted Kristov?” Madison demanded.

“That?” Paul smiled. “He just grabbed me, tried to clobber me.”

Ethan didn’t believe that. They’d all seen Paul on top of Kristov on the security camera. They were both well away from the mantis I.C.E.

Kristov got to his feet with Sara’s help, and he marched over. He stood over Paul, his massive fists clenching and unclenching, then relaxed a notch and turned to Ethan. “He was working on his I.C.E., running the preflight checklist. When I asked him what he thought he was doing, he ran. I tried to grab him, but he was too fast. I chased him, but he turned and”—Kristov rubbed his stomach—“he surprised me.”

“What
were
you doing with the mantis, Paul?” Ethan asked.

“Just …” Paul shut his mouth, then said with a snort, “Whatever. You guys wouldn’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

Paul glared at Ethan, seemed to decide something, and then shook his head.

Angel stepped up and stared down at Paul. She and Paul had gotten along before, but Angel stopped chewing her gum as she examined him, her expression unreadable.

“Well, until you cough up an explanation,” Ethan told him, his tone frosty, “you’re not flying any I.C.E. under my command.”

The ever-present bravado on Paul’s features melted away. “You c-can’t ground me. You need every pilot, Blackwood. You need me and my mantis.”

Ethan had always known there was something wrong with Paul—he was arrogant and a total pain. But he always thought he could count on Paul in a fight. Now? He wasn’t convinced Paul hadn’t been trying to steal the mantis … to do what? Leave? Paul wouldn’t survive without the squad and this base.

The bottom line, though, was Ethan wasn’t sure what Paul had planned, but he
was
sure he didn’t trust Paul anymore.

Paul stared up at Ethan, unbelieving. “Y-you need me.”

“I did need you,” Ethan said. “But you crossed the line when you attacked Kristov. Until you can explain your actions, I consider you a danger to the rest of the squad.”

Ethan turned to Felix. “Sergeant, you and Kristov stick him in one of the hospital rooms and spot-weld the air vents and door. We’ll have a long talk with him when we get back.”

Felix nodded and hauled Paul to his feet.

Paul sagged, defeated, shook his head, and muttered, “You’ll see. You’re going to need me yet, Ethan.”

Ethan watched him go. He had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Emma moved to Ethan’s side. “You did the right thing,” she whispered. “Or maybe you should have gagged him as well, I dunno.”

“Thanks,” he whispered back, and then so softly only he heard, “I
hope
I did the right thing.”

Madison flashed her green eyes at the looming wasp. “It freaks me out how you can do that.” She gave a half shudder. “You just said
‘when we get back,’
Lieutenant? Where are we going? What’s the plan?”

Ethan stood straighter and spoke up so everyone could hear. “We’re flying south to the Yucatán Peninsula. The Ch’zar are fighting each other down there. We’re going to find out why. Maybe help them destroy each other.”

Everyone nodded.

“And the praying mantis?” Angel asked. She brushed her hair back and looked at the Sterling pilots.

That problem, at least, Ethan had an answer for. He turned to Bobby.

“Bobby,” he said. “Front and center.”

Bobby ran up to Ethan and saluted.

“You’ve logged more simulator hours in an I.C.E. than any other new recruit. I think you’re ready for your maiden flight.”

Bobby looked superserious. “Yes, sir!” he said. “Absolutely!”

Ethan took Bobby’s hand and shook it. “Welcome to the squadron, Private Buckman. The Crusher is yours.”

Bobby glanced over at the ghostly green praying mantis sitting on the flight deck. The unit looked terrifying just sitting there inert. He swallowed, and whispered, “Yes, sir.”

   12   
CANNIBALIZING