‘I’m ashamed of what I’ve done, what I became …’ Sanderson says, his gaze pleading and confused. ‘But I don’t understand what you expect me to do. Let them? How can I stop them?’

‘We don’t expect you to stop them,’ I say, ‘just slow them down. You need to rally people against them. When you give your speech tomorrow at the UN, you need to make it clear that the Mogadorian fleet can’t be allowed to land on Earth.’

Sanderson stares at me, confused, then slowly swivels his gaze towards Walker. ‘Is that what your mole told you? Is that what you think will be happening tomorrow?’

‘I know what’s happening,’ Walker replies, no less caustic now that Sanderson seems to be coming around to our side. ‘You and the other leaders who the Mogs have bought off will get up onstage and convince the world we should coexist peacefully.’

‘Which is really just code for surrender,’ Nine adds.

‘Yes, that’s planned for tomorrow,’ Sanderson says, with a dark, hopeless laugh. ‘But you’ve got the order confused. You think I give some speech and then their Beloved Leader lands his ships? You think he cares about the slow-turning wheels of human politics? He’s not waiting for permission. The UN will convene to save lives, to calm a frightened population, because a military resistance is doomed against that –’

Sanderson gestures wildly through the door, at the television still buzzing in the other room. Slowly, we each turn, leaving Sanderson’s bedroom for the penthouse living room, drawn in by the ashen face of a cable news anchor. She stumbles over her words as she tries to explain the unidentified flying objects manifesting in the air over dozens of major cities. The reception goes in and out, the bursts of static getting more and more frequent, as something interferes with the signal.

‘… reports coming in that the ships have been sighted overseas as well, in places like London, Paris and Shanghai,’ the newscaster says, eyes wide as she reads from her teleprompter. ‘If you’re just joining us, something literally out of this world is happening, as ships of alien origin have appeared over Los Angeles, Washington …’

‘It’s happening,’ Sam says, stunned, looking at me for some kind of guidance. ‘The warships are coming down. They’re making their move.’

I don’t know what to tell him. Grainy footage of a massive Mogadorian warship sliding out of the clouds in the sky over Los Angeles appears on-screen. It’s everything I dreaded, coming to pass. The Mogadorian fleet is gliding slowly towards a woefully unprepared Earth. It’s Lorien, all over again.

‘I tried to tell you,’ Sanderson calls to us. ‘It’s already too late. They’ve already won. All that’s left is surrender.’

22

‘I’m done doing what they tell me. What any of them tell me.’

My eyes snap open. I’d been in a deep sleep, one that I didn’t think would be possible in my giant Mogadorian bed with its strange, slippery sheets. I’m becoming uncomfortably adjusted to life aboard the Anubis. I thought I heard a voice in my sleep, but maybe it was just my imagination, or the remnant of some dream. Not taking any chances, I stay very still and keep my breathing even, like I’m still asleep. If there is an intruder, I don’t want them to know I’m awake.

After a few seconds of silence filled only by the ever-present hum of the warship’s engines, a voice resumes speaking.

‘One side drops us on this strange planet and basically forces us to fight for our lives. The other side, they talk about peace through progress, but that’s all just fancy talk for killing anyone who stands in their way.’

It’s Five. He’s in my room somewhere. I can’t locate him in the near darkness. I can only hear his mumbled under-the-breath rambling. I’m not even sure if he’s talking to me.

‘They all just wanted to use us,’ Five hisses. ‘But I’m not going to let them. I’m not going to fight in their stupid war.’

He shifts then, and I can finally make out Five’s outline. He’s sitting on the edge of my bed, his skin the dark, slick texture of my sheets. He blends right in to my covers, and it must be because he’s touching them, using his Externa. That means his Legacies are back. It also means that he’s seriously creeping me out, like a monster came crawling out from under my bed.

‘I know you’re awake,’ Five says to me without turning his head. ‘The ship is descending, we aren’t in orbit anymore. If you want to go, now is the time.’

I scoot up in bed, keeping the covers close. For a second, I consider making Five powerless again by charging the sheets with my Dreynen. But what good would that do? I decide not to attack him. For now.

‘I thought you were on their side,’ I say. ‘Why would you help me?’

‘I’m not on anybody’s side. I’m done with this whole thing.’

‘What do you mean, done?’

‘For a while, after my Cêpan died, I was alone. It wasn’t so bad. I’d like to go back to that,’ Five says. ‘You know how many little islands there are in the oceans? I’m going to pick one out and stay there until this is over. I don’t give a shit who wins, so long as they stay far away from me.’

‘That’s cowardly,’ I reply, shaking my head. ‘I’m not going to some deserted island with you.’

Five snorts. ‘I didn’t invite you, Ella. I’m getting off this ship and I thought you might want to come along. That’s as far as we go.’