Page 8 of Dark Shaman: Love Found
Kalugal pursed his lips. "I wouldn't mind owning an island. We can disguise it as a corporate retreat center. Executive training facility. Rich people go to private islands for team-building exercises all the time. Some physical activity, some zip lines, nothing that would look unusual from above. Everything else can be underground, just like in my father's island." He took a long puff on his cigarillo. "Navuh might be crazy, but he's not stupid, and I'm not too proud to follow his example when it can benefit me." Kalugal finished his Scotch and set the glass down with a decisive click. "I know it's ambitious, and I know that there are a thousand things that could go wrong. But what's our alternative? Wait for my father to perfect his enhanced soldiers while we slowly develop robots that might not be ready in time?"
Kian couldn't argue with that logic. They were in an arms race, whether they liked it or not, and chances were that Navuh was going to beat them to the finish line even with the new plan. He already had enhanced soldiers and was now working on perfecting them.
"Let's do it." Kian set his glass down. "What's our first move?"
"We get Weng first," Kalugal said. "She's the lynchpin. Without her mechanical expertise, the others can't optimize their systems. She's divorced, has no kids, and her parents are deceased. Workaholic by all accounts. Lives for her projects. She'll jump at the opportunity. While that's going on, I will also put in an offer for the island."
"What about Ross and Torres?" Kian asked.
"Ross is a mercenary at heart. He goes where the money and interesting problems are. Torres is more idealistic, but she's also practical. I'll frame it as developing protection for a private security force, let her ease into the full truth."
"When did you have time to think all of this through?"
Smiling, Kalugal tapped his temple. "I'm a fast thinker, and I have a good crew that does the research for me."
Kian stood, walking to the edge of the roof. The village spread below, peaceful and without a care. How many more years of peace could they count on? How long before Navuh's reach extended even here?
"We'll need a project manager," he said without turning around. "Someone to coordinate all of this. The engineering team, the production facilities, and the training centers. Someone who understands both the technical and tactical requirements."
"Do you have someone in mind?" Kalugal asked.
Kian turned to him. "I was thinking about your man, Phinas. He and Jade could undertake the project."
Kalugal didn't look too happy with the suggestion. "I'll talk to him and you talk with Jade, but I don't think she'll be willing to take this on in addition to leading her people."
"She'll love it." Kian stubbed out his cigarillo and pulled out a new one. "She can utilize Kagra to oversee the Kra-ell while she's busy with the new project."
Kalugal still didn't look convinced, but he nodded. "Name? We need to give this project a name. How about OperationEqualizer? Since that's what we're doing—equalizing the playing field between humans and enhanced soldiers."
"Not bad. But I have a better one. Project Titan. I like the mythological reference. It implies strength without spelling out the military application."
"I like it." Kalugal stood. "Project Titan, it is."
4
ANNANI
The clock on Annani's mantel chimed four times, each note heightening her excitement. Wednesday afternoons, at four o'clock precisely, Areana called.
Except today.
Annani stared at the silent phone in her hand, willing it to chirp to life, but it remained silent and inert.
Areana was running late.
It had happened before. There was no reason for alarm. And yet her heart was racing as worry gnawed at her insides.
What if something had happened to her sister?
What if Navuh had discovered her subterfuge and had thrown her in a cell?
Or worse?
Areana claimed that he loved her, that they were truelove mates, and she was sure that he would never hurt her. But Navuh was a monster, and monsters were unpredictable.
Unease settled in Annani's stomach.
The clock ticked on, each second an eternity. Four-fifteen. Four-thirty.
