Free Colonization (Alien Invasion Book 3) by Sean Platt, Johnny B. Truant, Realm, Sands Page A

were an upgrade: hippie tents replaced by socialist bunks. Nobody had to pay their way inside Heaven’s Veil, but many tried to make a living anyway. The American spirit hard at work, Trevor’s father sometimes said with what always sounded like a politician’s falsely positive voice. His mother had a different interpretation. Assholes will be assholes, she said.
    Trevor and Christopher ran side by side, making their way through the streets toward the precinct. Christopher was part of the Apex Guard, and Trevor was son of the viceroy, but the city’s human nexus of authority was still the precinct five blocks up. They could simply call in, but neither wanted to receive assignments and shatter the illusion that they were masters of their own fate.
    So they ran. And as they did, Trevor felt like he was using his legs to burn worry.
    Things had happened one-two back at the house: Trevor’s curiosity about Piper followed by the sounds of outside activity, as if someone were searching. The pair of events, side by side, made Trevor uneasy.
    Purring Reptar patrols filled the air, making Trevor’s skin crawl. He forced himself forward, seeing black flashes as the beasts passed intersections, making their horrible sounds. The things acted like animals (huge, shambling timberwolves or cats perhaps, moving like insects), but Trevor tried to remind himself that they were supposedly every bit as intelligent as the Titans or even the rumored Divinity class.
    But that, Trevor supposed, was why they were used as peacekeepers in the city. Nothing kept the peace quite like terror.
    They arrived at a precinct in chaos. A dozen human city police jockeyed with an equal number of Reptars for the same positions. The precinct only had the one main set of double doors — if the action was inside, they’d bottleneck in confusion. Reptars were supposed to stay out of the precinct. Human and Astral patrols were supposed to do their jobs to the same technical ends, but cops didn’t like the alien creatures any more than the Reptars seemed to care for them.
    As Christopher and Trevor neared the precinct, they saw the bottleneck’s heart. Cops and Reptars weren’t shoving to get inside after all. Nobody was getting inside because there was a black man with arms as large as a Titan’s at the double doors, his hands raised and a no-bullshit tenor in his voice: Malcolm Jons, captain of the Heaven’s Veil police force.
    “Get out of here, goddammit!” He shooed the enormous, crawling peacekeepers like obnoxious houseflies. “Go back to your fucking posts, and let us handle this!”
    One of the creatures lunged toward Jons — the equivalent of an attempted tackle, if the Reptar had been a person. Jons punched the thing in the side of its yawning jaw. He seemed to realize his error immediately and stepped back as the Reptar bellowed its hollow, purring breath and took another pace forward. Then it fell back, apparently chastised.
    “You hear me?” Jons yelled, emboldened. “This is a human precinct! You want to take it, then fucking take it, and be done with it all! Go ahead! You want to vaporize my ass and stop pretending we have anything to do with this city’s protection? Do it!”
    Several of the massive black Reptars — each the size of a midsize car — prickled at the offer. For a few seconds, Trevor thought the encounter would end in death, but one of the Reptars backed up instead, swishing its head with irritation. It must have sent a psychic command to the others. Soon, they all turned and pawed their way out in an expanding circle, moving away from the building. The human police swiveled away to let the things pass.
    Trevor and Christopher did the same as one of the Reptars came directly at them. It paused to assess Trevor. He felt his heart leap into his throat. Its eyes were like a giant serpent’s. It blinked as it took him in, dual sets of eyelids fluttering as the irises underneath shifted from yellow to red to blue to a