Darren Wearmouth - The Critical Trilogy Box Set

“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.

“Breeding,” Vingo said as if already knowing Denver’s question. Vingo shot down at them twice, obliterating them with two blasts of his rifle.

“That was unnecessary,” Denver said. “They weren’t doing anything to you.”

Vingo huffed and turned his attention to the panel. “This is it,” he said. “Time to see if my contact was as treacherous as me.”

“What do you mean?” Charlie said. “I thought you knew your way into this place.”

“Me? No, I have no idea. All I know is that a rogue Amalgam agent supplied me with some codes. I don’t know if they work or not. They probably don’t, considering the reputation of this agent. You think I’m bad… this guy’s reputation is known across most of the tredeyan-ruled systems.”

“If it wasn’t clear by now,” Charlie growled. “I really hate you a great deal.”

“Of course you do; you’re human,” Vingo said. “Now, you three stand by the door and prepare to enter as I punch in the codes.”

“You want us to go first?” Denver said. “Like hell. You tell us the codes and you can go first seeing as you’re so desperate to join the Amalgam.”

“No, it doesn’t work like that. You have about one unit of air left. You won’t make it back out of the sewers. You’ll die in here, and when your suits degrade in the acidic sludge, you’ll become food. I can enter these vaults with or without you, it doesn’t matter to me now. “You helped me get here; that’s all I wanted.”

“What about the micro-gate?” Layla said.

“Oh, that’s still a real possibility, so if you want to get off this planet, I suggest you do as I say and go first when the vault door opens.”

“What kind of security does this place have?” Charlie asked.

Vingo shrugged. “No one knows. The Amalgam agent got the codes from a card game involving one of the capital’s matriarchs. That’s as close as anyone other than the governors have got. Even this sewer is usually protected, but given the war with the scion, I guess we got lucky.”

“Luck, huh?” Charlie said, stepping forward to the side of the hatch. “I’ve never felt less lucky in my life, and that’s saying something.”

“Let’s not waste any more time,” Denver said. “Vingo, enter the damned codes and let’s get this over with.”

Denver joined Layla and Charlie by the door. They stood to its sides, the sewer too narrow to let them stand completely free of the opening. While Denver and Layla stared ahead, Charlie focused his attention on Vingo while wearing his ‘murder face.’ Denver just hoped his dad could hold it together long enough for them to figure a way out of this mess. A dead Vingo would be no good if they needed something to trade or beat information from.

“Here we go,” Vingo said, stretching out his hand and tapping in a complicated-looking pattern of codes. Denver crouched when a high-pitched beep came from the control panel. The blue holographic display flashed red.

“Shit, that can’t be good,” Layla said.

“Wait,” Vingo ordered, entering yet more codes.

The red flashing turned to a dark purple color and a hiss of air came from around the large circular hatch in front of them. The thing started to turn ever so slowly; the sound of servos whirred inside. Denver quickly glanced over at Vingo, who had his rifle raised at the door.

“Quiet,” Vingo whispered.

The hatch stopped turning after it traveled a complete revolution. It then moved toward them before folding down like a ramp. Green light flooded from a tunnel before them as the door finished its movement.

“Well, look at that,” Vingo said. “The rogue was trustworthy after all. Perhaps that’s a lesson for us all, eh?” He looked at Charlie with an expressionless face before adding, “Go on, then; get inside. You don’t have the time to stand there breathing away your lives.”

Denver stepped forward and entered the tunnel first, eager to get this charade over with. If they were going to suffocate to death, he’d rather do it knowing exactly what Vingo was up to and what the hell was in this place.