Critical Strike (The Critical Series Book 3) (33 page)

Mai unwrapped her arms from him and sat up with a wince. She was still recovering and was under strict orders to take it easy, but then Mike had never seen anyone give Mai an order that she would follow unless it was her idea.

The two of them leaned forward and heaved up from the comfy surface of the sofa and staggered, helping each other’s frail, beat-up bodies to the window.

The glass in the frame rattled as lightning and storm clouds gathered.

A gale blew against the window, bringing with it a shower of rain and dust.

“I don’t bloody believe it,” Mai said, turning to Mike. “After all this time, this struggle, all the victories and sacrifices, we now get hit with the apocalypse.”

“That thing is no group of horsemen,” Mike said.

They shared a smile and turned their attentions backed to the window.

As startling as it was, Mike already recognized the shape as the black sharp corner edged below the thick cloud cover.

“It’s our holographic friends,” Mike said.

“I wasn’t expecting them so quick,” Mai replied. “At least they’re punctual. That’s got to be a good sign, right?”

Mike shrugged. “I’m not so sure, Mussolini apparently was great at making sure the trains ran on time and look what happened there.”

“What is it with evil fascists and punctuality, anyway?” Mai asked.

“Small matters for small minds, my love.”

“Let’s hope this lot have bigger minds than the croatoans and our old friend Augustus.”

“I’m sure they do,” Mike replied. “They hired us, after all. Does that not show impeccable and distinguished taste?”

They both chuckled, mostly with nervous energy, but Mike had always loved Mai for her ability to add levity to almost any situation. She firmly believed that solemnity was a wasted emotion, that it added nothing, served nothing, and sucked one’s life away.

In the darkest of situations, she believed, humor was what would get you through, make sure you didn’t give up, and most important of all, remind you that you’re human and not just a manifestation of your circumstances.

“It’s landing out in the root field,” Mike said as the gigantic black prism, larger than any Egyptian pyramid, descended from the sky. The root field below it didn’t even move as it continued to land. “No thrusters,” he said.

“Must be antigravity tech,” Mai replied, picking up a pair of old binoculars from the table and returning to the window. “It’s an impressive structure all right. It has an intricate texture on its surface that almost repels light, giving it a matte finish. There’s some blue laser-like strips at certain points. Impressive. It’s like a massive scale version of that one you used to speak with Drone 21.”

“At least we know it’s definitely scion,” Mike said.

Outside, the rest of Unity, or at least those that could still walk, had left their houses and other buildings and started to scale the great steps of the basin to get a closer look at the new arrival.

“That’s got to be their ride,” Mai said, referring to Charlie, Denver, and Layla.

“Hopefully. I’d rather see it with my own eyes, though. Are you up for a stroll?”

When Mike turned away from the window, Mai was already hobbling to the door, putting her coat on and reaching for a walking stick Mike had found for her. She reached for the door handle and turned to Mike. “Well? You going to stand there all day, old man?”

With the help of a couple of Unity soldiers, Mike and Mai made it to the top of the basin. The huge scion ship had landed and was now surrounded by the remaining people of Unity. They all fidgeted nervously, waiting…

Even though, through the new council, Mike had explained his conversation with Drone 21, there was naturally a great deal of skepticism and fear. Who could blame them? The past few months had been one long struggle. He understood their concern over what else might be coming for them.

Hell, even as he approached the crowd around the prism ship, he couldn’t be entirely sure. Although his new handler answered most of his questions and seemed open to his inquiries, as well as showing him video footage of his friends, he realized he was dealing with some extremely sophisticated tech and this could all be a trick.

But given the options, what else could they do?

If this scion were as powerful as they seemed and had fixed the gate of their own accord, then it’s not as if those left on Earth would be in position to put up much of a fight.

“Something’s opening,” Mai said, still peering through her binoculars.

The base of the prism, hovering a few meters off the ground, emitted a low rumble. A blue line of laser light flickered once before a large square section on the side facing them slid open to show a nondescript interior of gray and white walls.

Then, backlit by the blue light, three silhouettes approached.

Mike’s heart thudded against his chest. He worried about Mai; would this be too much strain for her after her minor heart attack? He pulled her close to him. Her arm went around his waist and they held each other, silent in anticipation as the three figures approached the edge.

A ramp from beneath the base slid out to connect with the ground before changing shape to create a set of steps. Mike’s eyes grew wide as he watched the metallic surface seem to change shape almost at will.

“Did you see that?” Mike said.

“I’m not blind yet,” Mai replied. “Look, it’s them!”

Mai was right. Now they weren’t backlit by the craft’s interior lights, Mike saw the tired, but undeniable forms of Charlie, Denver, and Layla.

The crowd around them almost didn’t know how to respond.

Charlie stepped forward and put his hand up, hushing the crowd to a silence.

“Hagellan is dead!” he shouted.

The crowd erupted with cheers.

“The croatoans are no longer a threat to Earth!” Charlie added.

The crowd yelled again, clapping and cheering, some crying with relief.

On it went, for at least five minutes, Charlie, Layla, and Denver filling the crowd in on their adventures and who and what the scion were and what their role would be. When they had finished with their brief, Charlie shouted, “Where’s Mike and Mai?”

“Maria?” Denver asked.

“Over here,” Maria yelled from the right edge of the crowd, which split to allow her through. She headed toward Denver and hugged him before Layla joined in a group hug.

Charlie didn’t wait, he just waded through the crowd toward Mike and Mai after someone had turned around to point them out. When he came through, Mai launched on him, grabbing by the shoulders and kissing his face. “You stupid man! Don’t you ever leave us again, you hear?”

“She’s happy you’re back, old friend,” Mike said with a wide grin. Charlie looked awful, though. He seemed to have aged a decade and looked gaunt. There was a shadow behind his eyes that told Mike he had gone through a rough time. He’d no doubt talk about it sometime late at night as they shared a drink. But Mike knew enough not to press him. Charlie wasn’t really the sharing type.

Mike thrust out a hand. “Welcome back, Charlie.”

Charlie shook it enthusiastically before nodding to the miniature prism around his neck. “I see you’ve already got acquainted with our new friends.”

“Aye, if they are friends?” Mike said, quirking an eyebrow.

“I guess that remains to be seen,” Charlie said, “but I think we can trust them… Denver’s… well, he’ll explain everything. Right now, I could murder a cup of root wine.”

Later that evening, after everyone had dispersed back to their homes, the council members of Unity met to discuss the next stage of plans. Mike was beyond curious about the whole situation. Charlie told him the scion would be looking out for Earth. A prism named Drone 21 made plans with Mike to recover some lost artifacts that Hagellan had stashed.

Mike finally felt at ease with the world.

He couldn’t believe what Denver had told him, how the scion were actually a human creation. It blew his mind and reminded him why he became an archaeologist all those years ago. He wanted to find out how humanity came about, and why, if that was a question that had an answer.

With the scion helping, they could perhaps, once and for all, learn each other’s origins and reason for being. He would muse over that question for some time, he knew. Why did the other, far more ancient humans create the scion?

Had they seen into the future somehow? Seen that working together, other humans and the scion could forge an alliance and increase their odds of survival against the multitude of alien species across the universe?

“I’m going tomorrow evening,” Denver said, standing up in the chalet.

“Already?” Maria said. “It’s too soon.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have a choice. I agreed to help and it can’t wait. Besides, the sooner I leave and complete this mission, the sooner I can return. You guys have got so much to do without me. So many new plans. A new start! I wouldn’t even know what to do. I have to do this.”

Both Layla and Maria had tried to change his mind, ask if there was some other way, but there wasn’t. Mike could see it in Denver’s eyes. He didn’t just want to do it for the deal with the scion; he wanted to do it for himself. He needed this. This was who he was.

As they continued to banter back and forth, delaying Denver from getting some well-earned rest, a scratching noise came from the door to the chalet. Mike looked round, a dread settling in his stomach… what the hell was that?

Denver was already on it. He grabbed a rifle from the weapon rack on the wall and pressed his finger to his lip to indicate silence, then stepped toward the door until he stood beside it.

He chambered a round, aimed the weapon, and opened the door.

A sharp bark caught his attention and he immediately aimed the rifle away.

“Pip!” he said, kneeling down as his long-lost dog bounded up to him, wagging her tail and licking his face, all the while shaking and whimpering.

“She’s back!” Mai said.

“I wondered where she’d got to,” Mike added as he stepped over to Denver and made a fuss of the dog.

Denver stood up, lifting the dog to his chest. With a kick, he closed the door and returned to the others.

“I suppose the scion won’t have room for a dog,” he said as Pip went from person to person, sniffing them, her tail constantly wagging. To Mike’s eyes, she looked in good condition. She must have survived all this time in the woods, hunting for rabbits and other small creatures.

Mai looked up to Mike with a smile. “I guess we’re back together after all,” she said.

Charlie broke away from the reunion to join Mike and Mai. “I almost forgot,” he said, bringing out a small satchel that he had brought back with him from Tredeya. “Mike, Mai, since I was on vacation, I thought I should bring you back some souvenirs.”

Mike’s eyes grew wide as Charlie emptied the satchel onto the desk, spilling dozens of trinkets and old items onto the surface, some human, some alien, all of them precious. Mike leaned in, unable to speak as he picked up one object after another.

“I… don’t believe this,” he said. “Some of these things are just myths, thought not to actually exist. They’re… priceless. How?”

Charlie shrugged. “Some rich tredeyan bastard’s curio cabinet. Apparently the tredeyans have a thing for kidnapping and theft. Thought you might get a kick out of them.”

For the next few hours, they discussed the objects, Tredeya, the scion, all the while knowing it would soon be too late for Denver to delay his departure any longer, but Mike just focused on the moment, enjoying having his friends back and in one piece as he pondered on what the future might hold for Denver, and those on Earth.

Whatever it held, Mike knew one thing: he was invigorated unlike any other time in his life as he returned to the role he had before the croatoans arrived: archeologist.

CHAPTER FORTY

Charlie stood in the middle of a root field on the edge of Unity’s basin and shielded his eyes from the setting sun. He left Mike’s chalet early to visit Gregor’s grave and to take a look at the scion ship that would be transporting Denver away.

It appeared much like the fighters that pounded Tredeya. Sleek and black, in the shape of a swallow with circular engines at the back. This kind of technology gave him confidence that one day his son would return.

Denver, Layla, Mike, Mai, Maria and a black prism crossed the field. Pip bounded around them and barked at the scion drone. The drone maintained its steady course next to Mike’s head. They hadn’t stopped talking since meeting and discussing plans around the future development of Earth and the search for artifacts.

The souvenirs from Tredeya reignited Mike’s passion for archeology and he threw his weight behind assisting in the search for scion artifacts stolen by the croatoans.

Charlie scanned the scorch-marked remains of the city and thought about his future role in society. He decided to kick the root habit tomorrow and see out his days in the local militia. If they needed him, he would rise again, but he suspected his fighting days were over.

“We thought we’d lost you,” Denver said.

“Just inspecting your ride,” Charlie said and slapped the side of the ship, although the truth was that he hated long goodbyes.

Denver felt the same, but Charlie knew he couldn’t avoid taking part. Maria and Layla both had feelings for him, but had accepted his decision. Mike and Mai wouldn’t let him go quietly either. They were like his adopted uncle and aunt and fussed over him in the cavern, stuffing gadgets into his pockets and asking to be kept updated. The drone told them to expect no communications until the first Earth was found, as anything before that might compromise the mission.

Pip sprinted over to Charlie. He knelt down and stroked her. She jumped up and enthusiastically licked his face. Denver hugged each person in turn, holding short conversations, promising they hadn’t seen the last of him and he’d be back before they knew it.

Approaching Charlie by the side of the ship’s ramp, Denver extended his hand.

Charlie shook it and they exchanged a firm nod.

Nothing needed to be said. They talked the mission dry during their return from Tredeya. Even Layla accepted it was the right thing to do. Charlie knew Denver would want to board at this point and get on with it. His mind didn’t need to be clouded with emotional statements.