Spectres by Nate Kenyon

Author:Nate Kenyon [Kenyon, Nate]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Science Fiction, Military, Action & Adventure, General, Games, Video & Electronic
ISBN: 9781439172759
Google: 1kg23OCxMLAC
Amazon: 1439109389
Publisher: Pocket Star
Published: 2011-09-27T00:00:00+00:00

that was what she had come here for, wasn’t it? She had completed her objective, and the thought of continuing the fight overwhelmed her. Who

knew if she could stand a chance against both of them at once?

Maybe Tosh is right. Maybe I just can’t face the truth.

Blood kept dripping from her wound as she put her back to the neosteel door, slid slowly down to the floor, and waited for the marines to come.

THE PANIC ROOM

Nova didn’t know exactly how long she sat there. It seemed like forever, but it was probably only moments before the first marine in ful combat gear

thumped into the doorway, servos whining, rifle up, and scanning the room. The barrel found her and stopped, aimed at her head.

“You there,” the marine shouted. “Don’t move!”

“Agent X41822N, for the Dominion,” she said. “The emperor is secure.”

Then she passed out.

She ran through the courtyard outside her parents’ skyscraper, the sun beating down on her head and warming her scalp, water from the nearby

fountain shimmering in the heat. Someone was chasing her—possibly her old nanny; it was a game they used to play occasionally when Nova

was a very small girl, sort of like hide-and-seek, except she found that this game made the nanny quite cross.

Nova had always known when her nanny was happy or sad. She knew how everyone felt, all the time. Her father, Constantino, had called it her

gift of empathy. She had inherited it from him.

She ducked into the building, heading for the elevator, as events clicked into focus. It wasn’t her nanny after all. She was too old for a nanny.

Whatever was chasing her wasn’t a person but a feeling of terrible dread.

She had just turned fifteen, and her parents were shipping her off to a resort for spoiled rich children on Tyrador IX, to protect her from rebel

groups who were targeting the Old Families on Tarsonis in retaliation for the attack on Korhal, and intent upon bringing down the Confederacy.

Members of several families had been executed in horrific fashion, and her father’s hoverbike factory had been hit just days before. The other

children on board had been mostly glad to be going on what they perceived to be a long, peaceful vacation, and they couldn’t understand why

she was not. But she had left the ship in distress, because she had sensed her parents were being attacked in their home. This had been more

than simple intuition; this had been as real to her as if she had been standing there witnessing it. She had to do something, before it was too

late.

The building was too quiet, and as she took the elevator up to the penthouse her dread increased. She had been here before and had gone

through this scene already. She knew what she would find.

The elevator doors opened onto a vision from her deepest nightmares: her mother and father, dead, her brother on his knees, and several

servants lined up against the wall, a group of armed men around them, her mother’s trusted jig, Edward Peters, one of them.

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