Critical Strike (The Critical Series Book 3) (26 page)

“Well now,” Augustus said, with a smug tone to his voice. “That’s no way to greet your new emperor, especially a benevolent and forgiving one such as I. Why, as I was speaking with Maria earlier on, she gave me the great idea that I might spare your life. You’re quite a useful man, by all accounts, and I could always use people with skills like yours.”

The guard brought Maria out, a rope tied around her neck, and dragged her to Augustus’ feet. He kicked the back of her legs until she fell to the ground, her knees thudding against the bloodstained dirt. But she didn’t call out; she just shut her eyes and took the pain, not wanting to give Augustus the satisfaction.

The so-called emperor took the rope from the guard and yanked Maria until she coughed and gasped, clutching the restraint with her fingers in an attempt to create some breathing space.

“She’s been very useful,” Augustus said. “But frankly, she doesn’t have your skills, Mike. Here’s the deal. Your life for hers. You agree to work with me and this young confused clone here can go free. If not, well, then she dies as does your dear Mai. I hear she’s having a few problems right now. I could help with that… or not, it’s really up to you.”

Maria looked up at Mike, no emotion on her face, just a sad resignation that it had all come to this. She looked away and bowed her head between her shoulders.

“Tick tock, Mike, we don’t have all day.”

Augustus withdrew a dagger and held it to Maria’s throat. Mike could tell the sick bastard was smiling behind that hideous mask of his, his eyes scrunched behind the dark holes.

“Wait,” Mike said, staying the man’s hand. “Don’t kill her, I’ll… work for you. I’ll do what you want, but you have to help my Mai.”

Augustus shrugged as he stood up straight, taking the dagger away from Maria’s throat. “That can be arranged. But first, a token of our partnership, a gesture to show the people here that we can forge a new way of life here, under my rule.”

Augustus held out his free hand and waited for Mike to shake it.

Mai’s last words came to him. The device felt heavy in his hand beneath the folds of the sweater. The whole planet seemed to crowd in on him, a heavy silence drowning out everything but his pulse.

He reached out his hand, the device in his palm. He clapped it against Augustus’ hand and wrapped his fingers tight. Augustus at first tried to resist, but Mike held on, staring the failed emperor in the eyes, watching as they grew wider and wider.

“Your time didn’t even get started, fucker,” Mike said, pressing the switch on the device.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Maria took advantage of Augustus’ moment of distraction and edged away from him. Each time he held the knife to her throat and used her as bait, the slice became deeper.

Mike stood opposite Augustus with a look of defiance. He swept one of his prototype weapons around in a circular motion, pointing it at the hundreds of uniformed croatoans and a scattering of humans from Augustus’ army, who stood on the arena’s viewing steps.

Augustus turned to three hunters by his left side. “Seize him. I will not stand for this!”

The closest hunter dropped to his knees. He thrust his charcoal leathery gloves around the back of his helmet and let out a long extended croak.

The next fell forward, reached in an attempt to maintain balance and grabbed hold of the hunter already on his knees. They both toppled over the side of the wall, fell three meters, and crashed against the dirt in the fighting area. Unity civilians gasped and backed away, forming a semicircle around them. The last of the three hunters dropped like a falling tree, its visor splintering as it slammed against the concrete steps and a hiss of root-filled air escaped from its helmet.

Mike continued to thrust the weapon to his front and sweep the area. On the opposite side of the arena, aliens grabbed for their packs. Some crumpled backward, others collapsed forward and rolled off the side of the wall like the hunters. The croatoan, who led Maria around like a dog, fell at her feet and writhed, lashing out its legs. Maria’s eyes widened and she jumped back as the alien tried to grab her ankle.

This was similar to the experiment Augustus carried out on the injured alien after the evening raid. Mike must have perfected a new weapon on a powerful scale. The grunts and staccato clicks that filled the air stopped. Nearly all the croatoans lay dead. Several twitched but quickly relaxed in death.

Augustus’ eyes darted around the steps and the arena’s fighting area. Ninety-five percent of his army had fallen in a matter of seconds. The gold baton dropped from his hand, clanking against the ground. Maria watched as his trembling hands clenched into fists and his arms locked rigid by his sides.

Maria made eye contact with Mike. He gave her a firm nod and lowered his weapon. Four Unity citizens darted for the dead hunters, grabbed their rifles, and slid their swords out of their thigh scabbards.

Others saw them and followed suit, claiming rifles from the croatoans who had suffocated and fallen.

A couple of hundred former farm workers in Augustus’ army remained standing, spread thinly around the upper section of the steps. A few raised their weapons. Most turned and ran, losing their previous bravery now that the numerical advantage had swung in the opposite direction.

Multiple snaps of croatoan rifle fire split the air. Unity civilians sensed this was their moment and roared. The ones with swords ran from the now unguarded entrance gates.

Maria knew she had to get away and find shelter until the dust settled. She was frightened that the people of Unity would see her as guilty by association to Augustus. Rifle projectiles hissed up from the arena. The remnants of the army were being killed or had already fled.

An injured farm worker fell to the dirt. Civilians clustered around him. A sword in the center of the throng rose and fell. His screams quickly died out.

Augustus ducked and headed for the rear steps in a crouching run.

Maria dropped to one knee and slid a sword out of her dead handler’s suit. She followed Augustus down a set of stone steps to the rear of the structure, but planned to head in the opposite direction as soon as they were clear.

Outside, a few of the army sprinted across the basin, with civilians in hot pursuit. Others ran through the smoke-filled charred remains of the town. If they held themselves together and organized, they probably would’ve still clung on to victory, but they panicked and spread out. Maria doubted they would get far. Unity would hunt them and settle scores.

Augustus turned right and headed for a path that zigzagged up the five steps surrounding the basin. To Maria’s left, armed civilians poured out of the arena’s main gate. She had no choice but to follow Augustus, head for the forest and lose him there.

Root grew around the first two steps. Augustus reached down and ripped a few strands of the crop free. He charged up the incline and disappeared around the side of a small metallic warehouse.

Maria glanced over her shoulder. They weren’t being followed. She decided to hide in one of the houses of the fourth level. As soon as she spotted Mike, he could give her a pass and remove the bindings around her wrists.

Reaching thirty meters in elevation above Unity, Maria paused for breath.

Augustus stepped from behind the building and pulled a dagger from his belt. “I thought it was you who followed me. At least you’ll get what you deserve.”

Maria backed away a couple of steps. “I won’t tell anyone I’ve seen you. Please.”

“You’re pathetic,” Augustus said and straightened his mask with his spare hand. “I hold you responsible for today. You knew about Mike’s weapon and didn’t tell me. I’ll return with an army and slaughter the old man, but I’m not leaving without giving you a proper goodbye.”

He thrust the knife toward Maria’s chest. She stumbled back, lost her balance and tripped.

Augustus’ momentum carried him forward. He growled and raised the dagger above his head.

Maria flipped her sword up vertically.

The sword punctured Augustus’ fatigues and pierced his chest. He gasped, dropping his dagger. It thumped against the dirt next to Maria’s head.

A thin stream of blood dribbled from his mask’s mouth hole and pattered against Maria’s cheek. Augustus wheezed and attempted to grab the blade but slid further down it as his own weight drove it deeper. The tip of the sword appeared out of his back as he slumped to the side.

Scrambling to her feet, Maria wiped the blood off her face with her cuff. Augustus lay on his side, held out an arm and murmured something. She thought about all of the things he’d put her through: her life on the harvester, friends killed, threatened at knifepoint.

Anger and hatred welled up inside her. She never thought much about revenge, assuming it was beyond her capabilities as a lost clone, split between two warring factions.

Augustus went to unstrap his mask with his quivering bloodstained hand. Maria knelt beside him, knowing she would never get a better chance to put the past behind her. She grabbed the rough hilt of the croatoan sword, clenched her teeth and twisted.

Two people shouted at her from below and charged up the steps. Maria glanced over her shoulder and saw two Unity civilians approach. She twisted again. Augustus let out a deep scream. His arm fell by his side, his body shuddered and he let out a final deep breath.

One of the men, a young carpenter from the city, reached her and peered down. “Is that who I think it is?”

Maria nodded, unbuckled his mask, and flipped it to one side, revealing his scarred face and vacant eyes. She spotted a small black prism on a thin gold chain around his neck, grabbed it, and ripped it free.

The prism vibrated in her hand. Maria jumped up and stared at the object in her palm. It appeared to be some kind of alien tech, but none she recognized as a croatoan design. She decided she’d offer it to Mike as a gesture of peace, along with the news that Augustus was finally dead. Both gesture and news would surely bring a smile to his face.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Denver woke with a start, sitting up and trying to remember where he was. The place around him was cold and dark. Beyond the entrance he could see the moving water rippling with blue and red lights—the overhead ships’ engines.

He drew a mouthful of water from his suit’s supply and let the cool liquid ease the dryness from his throat. His head was thumping, presumably through dehydration and exertion, but a sensation started to tingle at the edges of his fingers and toes.

Root.

He remembered then; during the day, they had harvested some root and tredeyan fruit. As he eased the tiredness from his limbs, he started to feel more alert, awake, and thankfully, energetic. The rest had clearly done him good.

“Anyone awake?” he whispered over the comms.

“I am,” Vingo said. “I’ve been keeping watch.”

“You need to lead us to those filter systems or we’re all dead.”

“Don’t worry. I know Charlie will kill me if I don’t get you fresh air.”

A low glow from Vingo’s helmet showed his location toward the front of their makeshift shelter. The fire had burned down to embers. Denver scrambled forward to join the alien, making sure he didn’t make too much noise so as to wake Layla and his dad. He didn’t doubt they needed the rest and recuperation as much as he.

“All safe out there?” Denver asked, feeling awkward talking to Vingo. He knew him to be a liar and a traitor, yet there was still that hope that he could help them. With no other real choices, Denver thought it best to at least get along with him, draw some information out. If they were going to be double-crossed, it made sense to get the measure of the tredeyan.

“Where is your family?” Denver asked, sitting next to Vingo at the entrance of their cave. “If your kind have families, that is.”

“We do. Mine are dead.”

“Sorry about that,” Denver said, half meaning it. He knew enough about loss to know that even someone like Vingo wouldn’t find it an easy proposition.

“We should move,” the alien said. “The war is dying down. The scion will consolidate their domination and get to work with their search. I already heard their network of energy probes coming online.”

“What’s this city like?” Denver asked. “I mean, do you have residential and commercial buildings there? Shops, that kind of thing? What sort of economy do you have?”

“Every planet in the galaxy is different,” Vingo said, softening his voice as though appreciating Denver’s interest. Denver suspected they’d get more from him this way than threatening him.

“Go on,” Denver prompted. “I’m interested. I know we’ve not had a lot of time or opportunity to talk about this kind of stuff, but now Earth is connected to all this, I would like to know more about how it’s all set up. We’ve gone from thinking the croatoans were the only other species out there to learning there’s a galactic conflict going on.”

“I can see how that might be difficult for you.”

“Not difficult, just… interesting.”

“So our economy on this planet is done via a caste system of privileges. At birth, every tredeyan is analyzed to see what their genetic makeup will be more applicable to. They’re assigned a role and a set of privileges. Of course, those born from the higher families benefit from a skewed assessment in their favor.”

Denver wanted to say that sounded entirely unfair, but from what his dad had told him of Earth’s culture before the war, it wasn’t entirely different. There were always glass ceilings and levels of status that some could not cross.

“How do you trade with other species and planets,” Denver asked, “if you don’t use money here?”

“Depends on where in the galaxy you go and with whom you’re trading. You’ll soon learn this, I’m sure. A favor can often go further than any monetary compensation.”

Vingo lingered a knowing look at Denver, being entirely unsubtle about his point. Denver just smiled and nodded as though he understood in order to build a bridge of trust between them, even if Denver knew Vingo would wait for his chance to double-cross them.

“How much air do you have?” Vingo asked.