Critical Strike (The Critical Series Book 3) (29 page)

“You still have half a unit. We have enough time.”

“No more bullshit from you,” Denver said, in tune with Charlie’s previous thoughts. “I’m gonna be right behind you every step of the way. Take us to the filters first.”

Both rods retreated into the dashboard. The hologram reduced to a single red spot and vanished. Vingo gargled and felt his leg when he stood. Charlie struggled to feel any sympathy as the tredeyan trudged toward the edge of the city, moaning through the intercom.

Along one of the distant streets, croatoan soldiers walked along either side of a vehicle the size of a harvester, with a swiveling turret on the top. Several of the buildings along their route were reduced to rubble.

Thanks to Vingo’s bargaining with another species, bumping into that procession would mean serious trouble. Charlie found it slightly ironic that they’d probably be left alone, mistaken for human soldiers in an alien force, if they appeared without the tredeyan. They still needed him, though.

The group descended toward the edge of the city. Vingo paused behind the first building they reached.

A beam of light punched through the air and shone on different parts of the hill. The sound of a croatoan engine grew louder.

Denver crouched alongside Vingo. “Are they looking for you?”

“I don’t know their instructions.”

“Cut the crap,” Layla said. “If they see you, what will happen?”

“They’ll kill me.”

Charlie groaned. “Where’s the entrance?”

“We need to wait for them to pass,” Vingo said. “It’s on the same road.”

The beam of light continued to dance around the hill. It focused on the copse of trees where they parked.

A red bolt zipped overhead and slammed into their vehicle. A hundred meters to their left, croatoan soldiers ran from the edge of the city toward the burning wreckage. The harvester’s engine groaned and cut.

“You need to find a route, Vingo,” Charlie said and glanced at the croatoans darting through the grass toward the copse. “I know when that lot mean business.”

“Follow me,” Vingo said.

A light on Charlie’s visor display winked. He didn’t need to broadcast the fact. Layla was a couple of minutes ahead in terms of the end point.

Vingo palmed a black panel outside a small, square cream building. The door clunked and smoothly slid to one side.

“If this isn’t the entrance, where does it go?” Denver asked.

“We can reach the vault through our natural waste system,” Vingo said. “Be careful of anything that moves.”

“What kind of extra risk are we talking about?” Layla said.

“Not significant.”

From what they had already faced, Charlie imagined it couldn’t get much worse. The bigger risk would be staying outside, being killed by the croatoans hunting Vingo or suffocating to death. Whatever was down there surely couldn’t be as bad.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Mike sat at his tool-scarred workshop bench and rolled the small black prism in his fingers. He readjusted his LED headlamp and the beam reflected off its smooth sides. This reminded him of when Pippa first brought the strange blue bead to their office thirty years ago. Nobody guessed what it was or could’ve predicted what was about to happen. He wondered if the prism would have any similar significance.

Mai brought three steaming mugs of herbal tea over, pushed one across to Maria and sat next to Mike. “What do you think it is?”

Mike shrugged. “I don’t know, but it vibrated twice in the last ten minutes.”

“It can’t be anything good, coming from Augustus,” Maria said.

“How’s your elbow?” Mai said and gently caressed his sling. “Don’t push yourself and do some permanent damage.”

“We’re all permanently damaged.” Mike groaned and took a sip of his sweet fragrant tea. “Sorry. I’m not great company today.”

She wrapped her arm around his shoulder and gave him a comforting smile. “You’re alive. That’s all that matters. And you saved Unity.”

“What’s left of it. You’re still alive, and that’s the most important thing to me.”

Gib’s leather waistcoat hung on a spare stool to Mike’s left. He would miss the little genius and vowed to never forget that he saved his life. The place felt less alive without his presence. Gib was always curious about human technology and attempted to integrate as much as possible, helping to create tech to bring about peace.

Every time Mike made a new friend since leaving the basement in New York, they were taken away. Gib, Ryan, and Aimee joined the list of his old friends who were missing in action on an alien planet.

Mike leaned over and switched on the radio scanner, paranoid that another attack might come and finish Unity off. He wouldn’t put it past Augustus to have a backup plan, even though the old emperor was confirmed dead.

The remaining population were convinced that the threat was over and had started clearing away the charred remains of two-thirds of the town. It was a miracle that some of the buildings survived considering the raging inferno that took hold during the attack.

The prism buzzed in his fingers, stronger than the previous vibrations. Mike dropped it on the bench and stared down as it inched across the surface. Mai hunched forward and squinted down. Maria rocked back on her stool, clearly not as curious.

“It’s doing something, Mike. Where’s the power coming from?” Mai said.

A small purple beam shot out of the top and spread into a cone, casting a glow against both of their faces. A holographic keyboard appeared on the bench in front of the prism.

“What the hell?” Mike said.

Mai jerked back and knocked her cup off the bench. It smashed to pieces across the floor. Both of them ignored it and stared open-mouthed as the shape of a three-dimensional elongated head with a human face appeared inside the cone. Its dark eyes focused on them.

“I am Drone 21. Please provide a status update on Agent 3982, Flavius Julius Valens Augustus.”

Mike attempted to speak but only managed a grunt. He cleaned the lenses of his glasses on his cuff and put them on. Mai’s bottom lip quivered and she clasped her hands together.

“I sense alarm,” Drone 21 said. “Do not be afraid. I have seen you in the thoughts of others and know you to be a good people. Can you confirm that Agent 3982’s algorithm has expired?”

The hairs on the back of Mike’s neck stood. He couldn’t believe the tech he was seeing and its claims of knowing them. Part of him wanted to run, but the strong curious streak that ran deep inside him made him stay. “Do you mean Augustus?”

“I believe he used that name,” Drone 21 said. The image flickered and a line of digital interference partially obscured the face. “Please confirm his status.”

Maria stuttered. Mike glanced across, held out his palm to stop her talking, and quickly shook his head.

“Why should we tell you?” Mai asked. “He’s your agent and tried to kill us all.”

Mike had no idea what they were dealing with yet, although the prism had come from around Augustus’ neck.

“I am not your enemy,” Drone 21 said. “I am here to offer you an exchange. I can only do that once I’m aware of the full facts.”

“Exchange of what exactly?” Mike said. “You’ll forgive us for being slightly confused?”

The face vanished. An image of Denver and Layla, dressed in armored suits amongst alien foliage, flashed around the edge of the cone. The image moved, showing a two-second clip of them retreating. Both Mike and Mai took a sharp intake of breath.

“They’re alive!” Maria said.

The image cut away and the face appeared again. “Your friends on Tredeya for information. Now please confirm my question. You have little time to decide.”

“You know their location?” Mai said and gripped Mike’s arm tighter. He winced as pain shot through his injured elbow. “Charlie, Denver and Layla are alive and you can bring them back?”

“We will have access to Earth soon. This is the final time I will ask you. Provide a status update.”

“He’s dead,” Mike blurted and took a couple of seconds to compose himself. He folded his shaking left hand under his sling. “Augustus died during the attack on Unity. I’ve seen his body. What information do you want in return?”

“Thank you. Agent 3982 will be erased from memory. Our proposition is for you to provide full access to your information systems. Your three friends are still alive and we have acquired the specifications to create a transportation method.”

Mai edged closer to his side and gripped the arm of his faded lime green sweater. “We don’t have anything to hide. Who are you?”

“Your question is not relevant to the current negotiation. We calculate the exchange is possible if you engage immediately. Beyond that, the prediction is less certain.”

“You can have what you want,” Mike said. The only information systems left were cobbled-together croatoan ones. After electricity failed nearly three decades ago, all known human systems were down and rotting away. The picture of Denver and Layla, coupled with the tech he faced, told him he had nothing to lose and a lot to gain. “Tell me what I need to do?”

“Stay exactly where you are,” Drone 21 said. “Make sure any equipment and documents Hagellan left remain untouched. We will coordinate the rest when we arrive.”

“If you’re not croatoan, how do we know you won’t invade us?” Mai said.

“We have no desire to destroy your world and only seek information.”

“What kind of information?” Mike said.

“That is an unanswerable question. Do we have an agreement?”

“At least tell us who you are?” Maria said.

“We are the scion. By accepting the offer, you will become our agents.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” Mike said. He only usually took risks with his inventions and had no idea who he was dealing with, but any chance to get his friends back home was worth a shot. “When can we expect to hear—”

The cone and beam of light vanished, leaving the small black prism on the table. Mike reached forward and prodded it with his finger. “Unbelievable.”

“What does being an agent mean?” Maria asked.

Mai grabbed Mike’s hand and peered into his eyes. “What have we just done?”

“Exactly what Charlie would’ve in our shoes. We’ve taken a gamble to save our friends.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Denver ducked from the blast of Vingo’s rifle.

The alien shot the electronic lock mechanism on the inside of the sewer’s blast door. The shell exploded the device and parts ricocheted in Denver’s direction, flying over his head.

“You crazy bastard,” Denver said, gripping his rifle tighter and considering shooting that little shit right there and then. Vingo wore a smirk on his face, or at least that’s what Denver thought it was. Who knew what an alien species regarded as politicians were actually thinking behind their mask.

“Croatoans won’t have enough firepower to get through the blast doors now,” Vingo said. “Not with the scion patrolling outside. We’re free to head to the vault.”

“How do we even know this leads to the vault?” Layla said.

Denver and Charlie switched on their external lights and looked down the black tunnel. The smooth walls betrayed no threat. It looked like any other sewer that one might find on Earth. A five-inch-deep mulch of watery shit sloshed over their feet. Overhead, great ventilation fans spun slowly, extracting what Denver assumed would be harmful pockets of gas.

“It’s up to you to trust me,” Vingo said.

“Aren’t you getting braver now?” Charlie added.

“What else do you want me to say? I’m not going to beg you to follow me. If you wish to stay behind and suffocate, I won’t shed a tear for you. My mission is almost impossible anyway. With your help, you can probably help me claw back a few percentage points, but nothing that guarantees success. I don’t see why I have to keep justifying my actions to you. I’m offering you a chance off this rock. You can keep questioning me and using up your air, or you can follow me and help yourselves.”

Vingo didn’t even look at them as he sloshed forward into the tunnels.

Denver stayed his dad’s arm. “Not yet,” Denver said.

Vingo made what he thought was a chuckling sound. It was all Denver could do not to follow his dad’s cue and shoot the little bastard in the back. Denver didn’t like the change in his demeanor one bit. But still, there was no option left but to follow. At least the treacherous swine was in front of them.

They slogged through a few kilometers of shit without incident, despite the dark ripples that followed them. At one point Denver caught sight of an eel-like creature swimming through the sludge by his side. Dark red eyes reflected back at him in the gloom. It opened its slit mouth to display a row of tiny, but sharp-looking, teeth.

“What the hell are these things?” Layla asked, kicking out at one as it wrapped itself around her left ankle and tried to snap its small jaws through the metal of her suit without much luck. It didn’t even have the strength to scratch the surface.

“Unwanted pets,” Vingo said.

“Why the hell would anyone want that thing as a pet?” Charlie asked, remaining close to Vingo, who was setting an increasingly faster pace.

“There was a phase a few years ago when they were popular as combat pets. Our young would grow and train them for tournaments, but that soon died out and they were disposed of into the sewers. They have proved to be highly adaptable… and they provide a useful job, breaking down the solids they consume.

“I think I might be sick,” Layla said.

“Try to conserve your air if you are,” Vingo said. There was an edge now to his voice that Denver really didn’t care for. He had become sly, brave. The weak act and promise of cooperation seemed to have disappeared.

They said nothing else, taking Vingo’s advice to heart as they continued their trek through the filth until eventually they reached a large circular blast door. Their lights reflected back off it, showing that it was made of a polished metal. An access panel about thirty-centimeters-square was on the wall beside the hatch. It had a series of holographic buttons hovering over its surface.

Below them, gathered into the corners of the sludge, were a dozen more of the toothed eels. They writhed together as snakes might.