Read Online Waybound by Cam Baity - Free Book Online

even poetic payback to the Covenant for its destruction.
    â€œYour instincts appear to have served you well, James.”
    â€œThis time,”
cautioned another voice in his earpiece.
    â€œAlthough you exceeded your authority.”
    â€œOf course. My apologies,” Goodwin said with a smile.
    He did not need the Board’s commendations. They knew the significance of this victory. Goodwin had caught the boogeyman. He had smashed the Covenant, and now he felt a sense of completion.
    Goodwin took another drink of coffee, enjoying the fullness of its flavor. Through the gauzy atmosphere, he saw Watchman soldiers march another mehkan prisoner to a magnetic corral where captives snarled in their grating language. There was no telling what intelligence he would gather once the translator arrived and interrogations began.
    â€œHave you identified the remains yet?”
    Goodwin approached the dark, crumbled plinth at the back of the courtyard where a tarp-covered form awaited. He pulled away the sheet to reveal a body burnished in gold with a crusted red mark on its chest. Goodwin recognized this bizarre mehkan rite, but he never imagined it might be done for a human.
    â€œDr. Plumm is dead,” Goodwin announced, his voice heavy.
    It was a solemn prize. Jules may have been a traitor, yes, but he had also once been a friend.
    There was a soft click, followed by a moment’s silence. Then his earpiece came alive once more.
    â€œThat will be all. Return to the Depot with a full report.”
    Goodwin ground his teeth in annoyance. The coffee cup quivered in his hand. “I have only just begun. There is still—”
    â€œChairman Obwilé will be overseeing the Covenant camp.”
    A spark ignited in Goodwin’s blood. His ingenuity had led to the discovery of this camp. He had orchestrated the assault and secured a cache of Covenant materials, including military plans and maps that charted unknown territories. Goodwin alone deserved the credit, and he would not forfeit his spoils so easily.
    â€œLadies and gentlemen,” he said, addressing the Board with complete emotional control. “I have uncovered evidence that the enemy’s network extends far beyond what we previously imagined. Give me time to exploit my discovery and—”
    â€œYou have your orders, James.”
    The coffee had gone sour. Goodwin tossed out the remnants and stroked the coarse stubble on his cheek.
    â€œAcknowledge,”
demanded a voice of the Board.
    Goodwin did not unclench his jaw. “Right away.”
    Within seconds, two Watchman soldiers were flanking him, their dead, black gazes fixed upon him from behind glossy face shields. He was escorted out of the ravaged courtyard.
    Goodwin crunched over the scorched ore, fuming at this newest humiliation. He passed under a Mag-tank, its coil-tipped cannon humming as it was recharged by a generator. The loud rumble almost caused him to miss a nearby croaking voice.
    â€œAshtal incorrieki il gha Phoebe t’lar Loaii.”
    He stopped short and turned to find who had spoken.
    The words came again, and this time he found their source—the glowing purple corral occupied by Covenant prisoners of war. Mehkans were gathered around a diminutive creature clad in tattered veils. The wounded thing’s face was hidden behind a headpiece of golden chains, adorned by that symbol he had seen throughout the camp—a circle bisected with a jagged line.
    â€œAshtal incorrieki il gha Phoebe t’lar Loaii!”
    The words meant nothing to Goodwin, but the girl’s name was unmistakable. Fumbling, he withdrew his Scrollbar, slid it open, and recorded the peculiar phrase.
    The crumpled creature pointed a clamp claw at Goodwin as it growled the words again.
    â€œAshtal incorrieki il gha Phoebe…”
    The mehkan slumped back into its comrades’ arms, spent.
    Far above, the smoke parted as an Aero-copter arrived to return Goodwin to the