Nemesis: Book Four (18 page)

No, he didn't. They made inroads with the ice, but that didn't matter anymore. Every man down there died when lava poured from the sky like the Devil's own rain. From all the satellite images (which were available now, apparently the alien did not feel it necessary to hide any longer), the white cake was spreading like a steroid injected weed. Knox didn't think the entire world contained enough ice to stop its growth, nor enough men—and no one understood what she was capable of, whether more fire might fall from the sky if they did send people in.

Knox was in charge, but didn't have any idea what to do.

So he sat in this room, alone, not hiding exactly—yet not ready to face the world. He didn’t have much time for this self imposed quarantine though, because Trone called a meeting at half past.

What had Marks been thinking? Was it anger that drove him to murder? Knox didn't see it, not in the man's eyes or smile. He saw something else, something that scared him far more than simple anger. He saw cunning, an animalistic cunning, when Marks reached out and snapped Hayley's neck. He saw someone that thought their actions through, and now with Marks in a cage, Knox felt those outside of the cage were the ones who hadn't thought through what came next.

To be continued in Nemesis: Book Five

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