A FEW MINUTES AFTER AGENT WALKER TELLS ME I’ve got forty-eight hours to win a war, a pair of soldiers in full body armor and a middle-aged civilian carrying a tablet device arrive at her tent. They want to deliver some kind of urgent report related to a recording the civilian made on his tablet that morning. I’m not paying much attention—my ears are ringing, heart pounding. I can feel the new arrivals stealing looks at me, like I’m a cross between a celebrity and a unicorn. That doesn’t help my feeling that the tent walls are slowly closing in.

I think I might be having a panic attack.

Agent Walker takes one look at me and holds up her hand, stopping the soldiers from saying anything more. “Let’s take a walk, gentlemen,” she says. “I need the fresh air.”

Walker ushers the three men out of her tent and follows them, pausing at the exit. She looks back at me, grimacing like she’s in pain. I know she probably wants to say something comforting or encouraging, and I also know that Agent Walker simply isn’t equipped for that.

“Take a few minutes,” she says gently, and that’s probably the most empathy I’ve ever seen from her.

“I’m fine,” I reply sharply, although I don’t feel fine. Not at all. I’m rooted in place and struggling to keep my breathing even.

“Of course, I know that,” Walker says. “Just—I don’t know, you’ve had a rough twenty-four hours. Take a breath. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

As soon as Walker’s gone, I immediately collapse into the chair in front of her laptop. I shouldn’t be taking a minute. There’s too much to do. My body isn’t cooperating, though. This isn’t like the exhaustion I was pushing through yesterday—it’s something else. My hands are shaking, and I can hear my heartbeat thumping loud in my head. It reminds me of yesterday’s explosions—the screams, the dead. Running for my life, passing by the corpses of people I wasn’t good enough to save. And more of that to come.

Unless I can do the impossible.

I feel like I’m going to throw up.

Needing something to focus on, something to pull me out of this funk, I turn on Walker’s laptop. I know what I’m hoping to find, what I need to hear. In addition to the video she showed me of Setrákus Ra’s threat, Walker has a few other files open on her desktop. I’m not at all surprised to see the video I’m looking for there, already open.

FIGHT FOR EARTH—SUPPORT THE LORIC

I turn the volume up and click play.

“This is our planet, but we are not alone.”