Hunting Will by Alex Albrinck Read Free Book Online Page A

room.
    Porthos found himself in a small, isolated building nearly forty miles away. The property was owned by the Aliomenti, but this room was solely for use by Porthos during Tracking. The floor lit up with a map as he arrived, interfacing with the map in the room he’d just left, to show the initial tracking line. The walls again showed the outside world. Porthos repeated his process, identifying the spoiled milk Energy scent belonging to Clint, and made a mental note that this more northerly location produced a stronger Energy reading than the first location. That meshed well with Athos’ theory that Clint hadn’t traveled far after having his biometric devices removed by the Aliomenti, and the first two Tracking reads put the man somewhere in the eastern half of the United States as Athos had predicted. He glanced down at the lines and noted that there was an intersection point in just that portion of the world. The first two lines followed a nearly identical path, and so he’d need a third to pinpoint the fugitive’s location.
    Porthos teleported to the third room used for Tracking triangulation, and after finding the third line finally returned to the original conference room, exhausted. The Tracking wasn’t especially draining to him, but three teleportation hops inside thirty minutes left little time for recharging. He was surprised to see several pastries on a plate at his usual spot at the table; they weren’t a group prone to thoughtful gestures. He glanced at Aramis, who wasn’t looking, and then at Athos, who had seen the recognition of the food gift. “You need to recharge. We’re leaving now. Eat.”
    Porthos grabbed a pastry and shoved the entire thing into his mouth at once, drawing an eye roll from Athos. “Varesmiclk?” Porthos asked.
    Aramis glanced up from the book he was perusing. “What language is that ?” he asked.
    Porthos finished chewing and swallowed. “Where’s my cloak? I’m not leaving without it.”
    Aramis sighed. “Really? Why do you insist on wearing that thing? It’s so… many, many centuries out of style.” He donned his top hat, grabbed his book, and stood to leave.
    Porthos sniffed. “It’s a practical garment for protecting against the elements and concealing my handsome face from the masses, unlike an attention-gathering old silk top hat. You don’t want us being recognized, do you, snowman?”
    Aramis wrinkled his face. “Snowman?”
    Porthos shook his head. “One day, you will learn to appreciate the amusement and entertainment value of the humans. Ask Athos. I’m certain he’s read the human book that gave us our names.”
    Athos, who was still seated and marking down the exact coordinates tracked by Porthos, did not look up. “I seem to have misplaced it.”
    Porthos raised his arms in exasperation. “Where did you have it last?”
    “Near a large trash incinerator.”
    “Pearls before swine,” Porthos muttered. “I’ll see you uncultured rubes at the ship.” He vanished.
    Ten minutes later, the aircraft hurtled down the runway, carrying the three Hunters toward their target.

    ●●●●●

    The sleek aircraft blistered through the sky, traveling at the speed of sound, racing toward their destination. They normally didn’t use high speed craft for Hunts, but with the accelerated pace The Leader had set they needed to reduce travel time.
    Porthos, who had donned his beloved cloak and wore it with the large hood down, tested the leather chair. “I could get used to traveling like this. In spite of the company.” He reclined it back into a sleeping position, sighing with deep contentment.
    “I’ve identified the charges as including the first two Oaths, four laws — most notably, that no Aliomenti are to remove their biometric implants — and several rules around being absent without permission from work. We’re looking at about forty-four years total in confinement. I don’t think Clint’s going to be happy to see us.”
    “None of