Page 16

CHAPTER 16

KARC

" T he girl was right." Pyke's hologram flickers above my desk. "We can't risk civilian casualties."

"Glad you agree. I was starting to think I'd gone soft."

"Speaking of soft..." Pyke's ridged face creases with concern. "This human female. Are you certain she's not compromising your judgment?"

My scales bristle. "Raven helped us avoid a potential disaster. And Giscard invited me to lunch today - could be my way to his inner circle."

"Just remember this isn't Horus IV or the Badlands. Your shoot-first-think-never approach won't work here."

"I've mellowed with age, Captain." I lean back, boots on the desk. "Now I shoot first, then think about it after."

"This isn't a joke, Karc." Pyke's image wavers as he leans forward. "The Grolgath have gone dark recently. We can't get any intel on their plans. Giscard is our only lead - don't screw this up."

"When have I ever let you down?"

"Should I list chronologically or alphabetically?"

I wave away his sarcasm. "That was centuries ago. I'm practically civilized now."

"Just be careful. And Karc?" Pyke's expression softens. "Watch yourself with the human girl. Jalshagar bonds are dangerous things."

The transmission ends before I can tell him he's wrong about Raven. But the empty ache in my chest when I think of her tells a different story.

I'm lost in thought the whole way to the restaurant. Giscard hasn't skimped that's for certain.

The waiter leads me to Giscard's private dining room at Bella Luna. Crystal chandeliers cast rainbow sparkles across white tablecloths and gleaming silverware.

"Kirk, my friend!" Giscard rises, clasping my hand. "The '82 Bordeaux is breathing. Please, sit."

I settle into the plush chair, noting the exits and angles of attack out of centuries of habit. "This is quite the welcome."

"Only the best for New York's most innovative tech genius." Giscard pours deep red wine into Waterford crystal. "Your recent acquisition of Quantum Dynamics was inspired."

"Sounds like you're buttering me up for an investment."

His laugh echoes off marble walls. "Most perceptive, Kirk. Most perceptive indeed."

Giscard leans forward, and something feral glints in his eyes. "What if I told you that the annihilation of human society as we know it is inevitable, but there's a way to preserve the best parts of it so we can rebuild even better?"

"How could you possibly know-"

He cuts me off with a wave. "The how and why aren't important. The when is what matters. And the when is happening soon." His smile stretches wider. "For just one billion dollars, you and your lovely Raven can have guaranteed seats on the Ark Project."

Ice forms in my gut. This is far worse than expected. The Grolgath aren't just meddling anymore - they're planning to reshape humanity itself.

I raise an eyebrow at Giscard, swirling the wine in my glass. "A billion dollars is a steep price tag for a seat on your yacht, even if it is a spaceship."

His laugh fills the room, rich and knowing. "Oh, Kirk. You’re a man of vision, aren’t you? Surely you understand the value of a vision like this. But I’d be disappointed if you didn’t demand to see what you’re investing in. A man like you doesn’t get where he is by being reckless with his money."

"That’s one way to put it," I say, leaning back in my chair. "Let’s cut the sales pitch, Giscard. Show me the goods."

His smile tightens, and he downs the last of his wine. "Follow me."

We leave the restaurant and head back to Area 51. The club is quieter now, a few stragglers nursing drinks in the dimly lit corners. Giscard leads me through the dungeon, past the St. Andrew’s cross and the suspension rigs, to the unassuming maintenance door. He waves his hand over a hidden scanner, and the door clicks open, revealing a sleek metal elevator.

The ride down is long, the air growing colder with every passing second. The elevator finally stops with a soft ping, and the doors open to a cavernous underground chamber. My breath catches.

Before us stands a Grolgath space cruiser, its metallic hull gleaming under the harsh artificial light. It’s a beast of a ship, bristling with weapons and armored plating. Even without its superluminal drive, it’s a sight to behold.

"Impressive, isn’t it?" Giscard says, his voice full of pride. "This will take us into orbit, where a fully-functional space station awaits. From there, we can wait out the catastrophe below and rebuild the Earth when it’s safe to return."

I let out a low whistle, keeping up the act. "Christ, Giscard. Did you steal this from a Star Wars set?"

He chuckles, but there’s an edge to his voice. "Oh, my dear Kirk. This is no prop."

His form shimmers, the human facade melting away to reveal his true Grolgath self. Seven feet of black and white scales, sharp claws, and a serpentine gaze. His voice drops to a hiss. "This is no prop, Mr. Stevens."

I let my jaw drop, feigning terror. My eyes widen, my breath quickens, and I take a step back, my hand flying to my chest. "What the hell are you?"

"Your salvation," he replies, his forked tongue flicking between his teeth. "Welcome to the future, Kirk."

Giscard's scales ripple and fade as he shifts back to human form. His expensive suit materializes without a wrinkle. "I've selected Earth's finest minds. Scientists, artists, visionaries - all chosen for their potential to rebuild civilization."

"Sounds exclusive."These bastards plan to destroy everything humanity has built.

"Indeed. Which brings me to one final detail." Giscard straightens his tie. "The Ark Project is for married couples only. No exceptions."

My stomach drops. "But Raven and I-"

"Have a week to make it official." His smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Consider it a test of commitment. To the cause, of course."

The elevator ride back up feels longer than the descent. We emerge into Area 51's dungeon, now empty of patrons. The St. Andrew's cross casts strange shadows on the wall.

"Unfortunately, I won't be able to attend the ceremony." Giscard claps my shoulder. "Business overseas. But do send photos."

I force a smile. "Wouldn't dream of excluding you completely."

My hands shake with suppressed fury as I drive back to the office. The Grolgath aren't just planning to meddle with the timeline anymore - they're going to decimate Earth's population and handpick who survives.

I need to contact Pyke immediately. And figure out how to tell Raven we need to get married in a week.

The thought of marriage brings unexpected warmth to my chest, despite the circumstances. But I push those feelings aside. There's no time for romance when the fate of humanity hangs in the balance.

"A space station." Pyke's hologram paces my office. "And a cruiser beneath Area 51. This is worse than we feared."

"At least we know their endgame now." I rub my scales where the image inducer chafes. "They plan to handpick Earth's survivors."

"The Ark's presence tells us something else." Pyke's face hardens. "Whatever method they'll use to destroy humanity, it's not beneath the club. They wouldn't risk their escape vehicle."

The logic clicks. "Which means Giscard won't trigger doomsday until everyone's safely in orbit."

"Precisely." Pyke nods. "And that gives us an advantage. Get yourself and Raven onto that station. Find out how they plan to reshape Earth's future."

"I might need to marry her first. Giscard insists all passengers must be wedded couples."

"Then do what needs to be done." Pyke's expression softens. "I'm activating every Veritas agent worldwide. We'll work on finding their weapon while you infiltrate from within."

"And if we can't stop them in time?"

"Then you'll be our last line of defense." Pyke's hologram flickers. "The fate of humanity rests on this mission, Karc. Don't let personal feelings cloud your judgment."

"When have they ever?" But my chest aches at the thought of using Raven this way.

"Just remember what's at stake." Pyke's image fades. "The entire Project focuses on this threat now. Nothing else matters until we stop whatever the Grolgath have planned."