Darren Wearmouth - The Critical Trilogy Box Set

“I concur,” Mai said. “He was a madman. God knows what he would have done to you. It all worked out in the end, and you got to kill the bastard, so your name will be long held in regard here, I’m sure. Don’t diminish your actions, girl.”

Maria’s face blushed and she stammered, not sure what to say when she seemed to suddenly remember something. She opened her palms and showed an object to Mike and Mai.

“I don’t know why I took this,” she said. “But in the heat of the moment I saw it on him and thought it might be something useful. I’ve never seen anything like it before, and it… well, it seems to have some kind of internal energy.”

She handed the prism to Mike.

He rolled it over in his hand, feeling the light vibrations coming from its warm, metal surface.

“How interesting,” he said.

He lowered it for Mai to have a look.

She sat up in her bed and took it from Mike’s hand. “Hmm, I think a trip to the workshop is in order.”

CHARLIE WATCHED Vingo limp toward some steps cut into the ground. Dim lights lined green-tinged transparent glass on the walls leading down to a set of double red doors at the bottom. He paused at the top of them and encouraged everyone forward with a wave.

“Where the hell does this lead?” Charlie said. “You’re not taking us to meet more clusps?”

“We need to go through the house to reach its transport deck.”

“Won’t the owner be a little angry?” Layla said.

“Their shuttle is missing. The house will be empty.”

Denver turned, peering through his sights at their surroundings. Charlie spotted a few tredeyans moving around vehicles on brightly lit external transport decks. The decks lined the edge of a cliff that dropped away to the sea. Metal walkways sloped into the cliff, connecting the thirty-meter-wide platforms to dry land. He wondered why the owners kept the lights on with the scion air assault still in full flow, although the large prism had floated to a distant part of the star-filled sky to continue its bombardment.

“Do you know who lives here?” Denver said.

“A high-ranking tredeyan. Their houses are cut into the cliff and have the best views. The rest of us live in villages or the barracks in the cavern systems.”

Vingo climbed down the stairs and pushed the door open. A shaft of artificial light brightened the stairwell.

Charlie immediately followed him inside, pleased that they got themselves out of view, but he remained cautious. A scared tredeyan might be waiting around any corner with a loaded rifle, or one of those damned prisms might have floated in.

The space opened up into a large corridor with smooth cream walls. Five small glass cases were screwed at eye level on either side, with dried flowers and plants inside. The décor took Charlie by surprise. So far, all he’d seen was functionality around the defense, a slaver cavern and pulse cannons on strategic hilltop positions. He guessed Layla would be in her element if they had time to poke around. A vehicle was priority number one, to reach the vaults, so he had no intention of giving her the opportunity.

Denver closed the entrance door and made straight for a rack containing a tredeyan rifle. He grabbed it and checked the magazine. Charlie kept his rifle shouldered and stayed close to Vingo. The corridor opened up into a softly lit circular space, which he guessed was a living area. High-resolution screens were fixed against a wall in a sunken square area in the middle of the room, in front of an L-shaped bench. Two small helmets sat on the end of it.

“Do you get to watch much television?” Charlie said.

“I don’t understand,” Vingo said.

“The screens down there. What do you use them for?”

“Communication and work. The helmets are for the children to take virtual reality training.”

Frosted glass doors led off in three directions. Directly ahead, in the direction of the transport pad, and to the left and right.

“I don’t believe it,” Layla said.

Charlie twisted in her direction. She stood in front of a plastic display case and pressed her gauntlet against it. Denver walked over and joined her.

“What is it?” Charlie said.

“Artifacts from Earth.” Layla turned to Vingo. “Do you have anything like this?”

“I don’t have a sufficient level in our chain of command. These objects are taken from humans we integrated to supply our outposts. They had no need for possessions. We supply everything they need.”

“Where are the outposts?” Denver said.

“A long way from Tredeya. The ones alive don’t know about you, and Earth doesn’t know about them. I think it’s much simpler this way. Humans have strong personal connections that can compromise behavior.”

“You said supply ,” Layla said. “What do you mean by that?”

“Create other humans. Your lifespan is short. The only way to keep a constant supply is by reproducing.”

“You’re breeding us?” Charlie said, casting his mind back to the warehouses on Earth where aliens kept pregnant women. “You’re no better than the croatoans.”

Vingo blinked and hobbled over to the display case. “We don’t need to encourage humans to breed. Each one has a purpose for their life, whether that’s guarding territory, flying or fighting. Most are happy working in different parts of the universe.”

“You sell them?” Denver said.

“We did in times of peace. Not now. We require all of the resources to stay alive. After our planet has fallen, all we’ll be left with is our smaller outposts.”

“Which I assume the scion will be visiting in the near future?”

“It’s reasonable to come to that conclusion,” Vingo said.

The thought of his species being used, brainwashed even, into someone else’s fight grated on Charlie, mainly because there wasn’t a single thing that they could do about it. Nobody on Earth had the technology to search and recover the ancestors of kidnapped men and women. The humans in space might not even want to return if they were indoctrinated into an alien culture from an early age.

Charlie gazed at the contents of the display cabinet. The left half contained alien objects. A silver disc with luminous edges, two transparent blue teeth and a chrome pipe that looked like a musical instrument. The right half contained artifacts from Earth. A wooden comb with several teeth missing, a dagger with a boar’s head in a leather scabbard, iron buckles, and a pendant with three lions engraved on it.

Most of the human objects looked medieval, although in better condition than anything his old team dug up at Quaternary Productions all those years ago. It made him think of Mike, and how excited he used to get when an unfamiliar object came to the finds tent. They didn’t realize at the time how much of a simple life they had.

If people were taken centuries ago to fight about the galaxy, they’d have no idea of Earth’s advances and recent decline.

“Grab me a bag, Vingo,” Charlie said.

“What are you doing?” Vingo said. “You can’t take anything from here. A senior officer owns this house.”

Charlie smashed his gauntlet against the cabinet and the clear protective sheet shattered. He reached inside and scooped up the contents. “If we make it back to Earth, I know a man who’ll love this.”

“That’s theft,” Vingo said. “The security feed will have a recording of your actions.”

“I don’t give a shit. Your allies stole my planet.”

“Besides, we’re gonna steal his transport and you’ll be on the feed too,” Denver said.

Vingo grunted and disappeared through the door on the left of the room. He returned with a small green sack. Charlie stuffed in his newly acquired hoard and slung it over his shoulder. He imagined Mike’s face as he poured the contents in front of him.