red gems on its chest tickled Malcolm’s memory. And this ma-
chine had been molded to appear female.
Malcolm and Asha moved to ank the machine. It noticed,
and instead of resisting it held up its hands in surrender.
“I’m not your enemy. I promise.”
Malcolm’s eyes narrowed.
That voice.
With a faint whirring, the helmet folded back. The woman
inside watched Malcolm, equal parts wary and nervous.
His brain exploded. “Wha . . . how?”
“By Eternity,” Asha muttered.
“Holy . . .” Malcolm heard John say.
“Mal,” Valentine said.
Her voice barely penetrated. He stood rooted, drowning
in questions.
The sound of the front door broke the spell. All eyes turned
as Neil and Oma Grace appeared on the porch. Malcolm
yearned to push his dad back inside. Yet he could only stand
there with his heart breaking as his father saw Callie.
Neil examined his wife in confusion. Then his expression
clouded over.
“Neil,” Callie said. “I was going to tell you. I’ve
wanted
to
tell you for so long.”
Stunned, he leaned against the doorway. “Tell me what?”
“How did these things know where to attack?” Asha said.
Malcolm shot her a look, and her eyes widened.
“Forgive me,” Asha said. “I only meant to think it.”
“First strike protocol,” Callie said. “Small forces sent in
as a vanguard. They take out known threats to clear the way.”
Oma Grace wrung her hands. “Clear the way for what?”
“For an invasion.”
“How?” Staggering down the porch steps, Neil approached
R YA N
D A L T ON
62
