Synthesis (The Emergents Trilogy Book 3) by K. A. Riley

Author:K. A. Riley [Riley, K. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Travel Duck Press
Published: 2020-02-18T16:00:00+00:00

27

Manthy calls Cardyn over, leaving me alone to think about all that’s happened to us and all we’re getting ready to go through.

With my thoughts drifting, I start thinking about Brohn. I hope he’s okay.

I don’t start seriously worrying until it feels like too much time has passed. They should’ve been back by now.

Wisp must sense my distress because she leaves whatever she’s been working on in the Tactics Room and in the Corona with Olivia for the last few hours to come over and talk to me.

“Don’t worry,” she says, somehow reading my mind. “Brohn…all of them will be just fine.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Well, for one thing,” Wisp laughs, “it’s Brohn.”

“It’s true,” I say. “He does have a way of surviving just by being himself, doesn’t he?”

“That he does.”

“Can’t you contact them or something?”

Wisp shakes her head and asks if it’s okay to sit down.

“Sure.”

Sitting cross-legged in front of me, Wisp scans our assembled army like a proud mother. “There are definite advantages to hiding out right under Krug’s nose like this. But one of the disadvantages is that one slip, one careless bit of communication, one intercepted signal, and they’ll have our location pinpointed in about two seconds, and they’ll have a battalion of soldiers down here to wipe us out about five seconds after that.”

“What about Render?” I ask, as I give him a little tickle under his neck. He’s sitting on my thigh, and I’m glad my pants have armor plating. His talons are razor sharp, and if he were to get startled, he could easy poke four very deep holes in my thigh.

He doesn’t like being cooped up in here like this, but, true team player that he is, he seems willing to take one for the Conspiracy. “He’s a great spy,” I remind Wisp. “You saw how good he did in San Francisco. Maybe he can go find out where Brohn and the others are. I can probably stay connected with him even if he’s far away like that.”

Wisp looks from me to Render but almost immediately shakes off this idea.

“San Francisco wasn’t filled with drones. And we had the advantage of surprise back then. Render has a target on his back as big as any of ours.” She points to the small gold plates and filaments lining Render’s body, which is shimmering glossy, bluish-purplish-black under the flickering white and the faint pulsing yellow of the overhead holo-lights. “He doesn’t exactly blend in anymore, does he?”

I’m torn between wanting to cry about this fact and wanting to leap up and punch Wisp in the face for reminding me about it.

Render and I are connected, but he’s not an especially open or emotional bird, and I sometimes forget how traumatic it must be to have experienced what he has.

We’ve all been victims of brutality and war. But Render nearly died, and the only thing keeping him alive is the network of microfiber technology Manthy and Olivia managed to integrate into his body.

He’s still

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