Sequel to Into the Divide
Commander Michele is dead, and the fragile balance of the base on OC-1320 is shattered. The Science Division and the First Fighters turn on each other, while Izaak, once a commander, now a man content to fade into the background, is reluctantly forced to take charge of the base. Distrusted by the scientists, about to be abandoned by his second-in-command Tarn, and confronted by Inspector Vincent Hawthorn, whom he was sent to investigate, Izaak is dragged back into conflicts he thought he’d left behind.
Vincent hasn’t changed. He is overly dramatic and petty and prone to fits of jealousy. He is also arrogant, brilliant, and impossible to ignore, he forces Izaak to face not only the fractured base but also the truths he’s buried about himself. Their shared past still lingers, full of old wounds and unfinished business, and now Vincent is the one man Izaak can’t avoid.
Beyond the fence lies the Nullands and the Divide, where dangers come in alien forms. But inside the base, the battles are all too human. To survive, Izaak must decide what kind of leader he wants to be, and whether he can trust Vincent again, even if it means breaking everything he once believed in.
Izaak disliked Vincent Garland Hawthorn the Third on sight.
"I refuse to go out into this Nullands with nothing but a couple of criminals to protect me. They'll probably rape me in my sleep and steal my things and ..."
Izaak bit back a snarl and held his tongue rather than go against protocol and embarrass his commanding officer with his lack of control. The argument had been going on for over an hour, and he was bored. He wanted to get back to his regular schedule of training, polishing boots and filing routine reports. But it was just Hawthorn, Commander Austin and him in the office and he hadn’t been dismissed.
"Well then, don't go." It was Commander Austin, finally cracking under the pressure of the persistent annoyance of Vincent Garland Hawthorn III, the youngest son of Admiral Hawthorn, who in turn was one of the grandsons of Professor Alfred Hawthorn, one of the founding fathers of the International Space Federation. “We can send a representative instead.” It didn’t bode well for the careers of officers who were rude to the upper echelons of ISF and Commander Austin was pretty low in the rungs of hierarchy.
"Don't be stupid, man. I need to go." Vincent Garland Hawthorn III snapped in annoyance and turned around to face Izaak. "You, who's coming with me into the Nullands."
"That'll be Kevin, Tarn and three people from the survey team." Izaak had been the one to put the team together, and it was a pretty good team with lots of experience. Kevin’s term was almost up, and these hours would mean he might not have to do another Nullands mission. "You added two of your own team members as well."
Hawthorn looked to Izaak with narrowed eyes. He had exceptionally dark eyes that went well with his dark skin. "What's your name?"
"Izaak."
"Full name."
Izaak looked at Commander Austin who nodded to him and grimaced. "Izaak Van Tassel."
"Ah," Hawthorn Junior rocked back on his heels. He pulled out a small palm top and started to scroll through it, ignoring everyone. He gave Izaak a swift assessing look and then back to the screen, which only he could see. "Here it is. Izaak Van Tassel, age thirty-two, which makes you younger than you look incidentally, and the son of Vice-Admiral Rebecca Van Tassel."
“You have her looks.” Izaak kept his face frozen as Hawthorn continued. "You joined the ISF as a trainee at sixteen and were at the top of your class every single year. That's only happened twice in the entire history of ISF and some of your records still stand."
"I know," said Izaak shortly. "Why does this interest you?"
"I need to know what sort of man I'm entrusting my life to."
"I won't be coming with you."
"You are now." The words were final, and Izaak didn't need to look at Commander Austin to know he had little say in the matter.
