out of paper, and then extravagantly wafted the robe around its wide shoulders before placing the hood over its helmet.
Aimee raised her hood over the top of her head. “It will do for now.” She turned to the red-faced guard. “You can tell Augustus that Charlie Jackson is under my control.”
He pulled the gate open. “Don’t expect him to be happy about this.”
Aimee ignored him and headed toward the cramped streets of Unity.
“You seem to trust the aliens,” Charlie said, moving alongside her.
“Most of them are sons and daughters of the conscripts sent to far-flung planets to carry out a dirty job. Unity is their home. They have no loyalty to their supposed empire.”
“Jesus, I didn’t know they’d been breeding here. What about Baliska? It’s no stranded son or daughter.”
“He, Jackson, is pure croatoan blood, but has a relative here.” She smiled at Charlie. “I’m taking you to meet him.”
“Hallagen? I take it Augustus doesn’t know?”
“Augustus probably doesn’t care. He thinks Hallagen’s dead. When you and I chatted earlier today, Baliska told my temporary protection that he respects you as a human warrior. He asked to be freed to help in any way he can. Baliska knows what the Grand Council will be planning—he’s seen it all before.”
They continued along a side street leading around the edge of town. To their left was a long row of smartly constructed pens filled with sheep, pigs and cows looking healthier than Charlie had seen in the last twenty years. Beyond the animals, crops wavered on the distant steps cut into the basin’s side. Small rickety wooden houses, glorified sheds with washed clothing hanging off the frames, lined the right side. The place stank of shit.
“Did you get me some root?” Charlie said.
She produced a fresh orange piece from underneath her robe. “Take this. There’s plenty more where that came from—if you continue to cooperate.”
Charlie didn’t hesitate. He crammed it into his mouth and chewed hard in order to get the juices flowing down his throat, injecting life into his tired limbs. He’d dismissed escaping after thinking of the planet destroyer heading toward Earth, but he still didn’t trust any of these people or aliens.
The minute he sniffed bullshit or the plan looked like failing, he’d run, get away, and spend his final time on Earth under his terms.
Aimee gestured to her left, and they approached the sinkhole, or attack tunnel as she called it. The dull silver nose cone of a croatoan attack vessel rose from the chasm, slumped to one side, covered in a thin layer of dirt. A gap the size of a door had been cut into the bottom of the giant cone at ground level.
Charlie thought back to when he saw his first one, when he dangled at the bottom of a rope in a sinkhole near Roanoke Sound. It came from directly below him, smoothly rising out of a cloud of electricity-filled smoke. He managed to scramble up the rope and run, along with the rest of the people, before it sent out a pulse jarring through his body and killing anything electronic in the area as the croatoan soldiers spilled out to take control. Shock and awe. Nobody was prepared.
“Don’t be frightened. They mean you no harm,” Aimee said.
She entered the vessel and disappeared to the left. Charlie took a deep breath and followed. Inside, he immediately looked down. In the center, a hundred-meter drop to the bottom of the structure. Several torches were burning at the bottom, providing dull lighting for the off-white interior. A two-meter-wide shallow spiraled platform curled around the edge all the way down.
Aimee didn’t wait and started her descent. The platform’s coarse surface scraped against Charlie’s boots, providing decent grip. As he made his way down, his eyes became used to the light.
Seats ran around the wall, hundreds if not thousands of them, with a raised bar above each, probably used for securing croatoan soldiers as they rose to the
Aimee raised her hood over the top of her head. “It will do for now.” She turned to the red-faced guard. “You can tell Augustus that Charlie Jackson is under my control.”
He pulled the gate open. “Don’t expect him to be happy about this.”
Aimee ignored him and headed toward the cramped streets of Unity.
“You seem to trust the aliens,” Charlie said, moving alongside her.
“Most of them are sons and daughters of the conscripts sent to far-flung planets to carry out a dirty job. Unity is their home. They have no loyalty to their supposed empire.”
“Jesus, I didn’t know they’d been breeding here. What about Baliska? It’s no stranded son or daughter.”
“He, Jackson, is pure croatoan blood, but has a relative here.” She smiled at Charlie. “I’m taking you to meet him.”
“Hallagen? I take it Augustus doesn’t know?”
“Augustus probably doesn’t care. He thinks Hallagen’s dead. When you and I chatted earlier today, Baliska told my temporary protection that he respects you as a human warrior. He asked to be freed to help in any way he can. Baliska knows what the Grand Council will be planning—he’s seen it all before.”
They continued along a side street leading around the edge of town. To their left was a long row of smartly constructed pens filled with sheep, pigs and cows looking healthier than Charlie had seen in the last twenty years. Beyond the animals, crops wavered on the distant steps cut into the basin’s side. Small rickety wooden houses, glorified sheds with washed clothing hanging off the frames, lined the right side. The place stank of shit.
“Did you get me some root?” Charlie said.
She produced a fresh orange piece from underneath her robe. “Take this. There’s plenty more where that came from—if you continue to cooperate.”
Charlie didn’t hesitate. He crammed it into his mouth and chewed hard in order to get the juices flowing down his throat, injecting life into his tired limbs. He’d dismissed escaping after thinking of the planet destroyer heading toward Earth, but he still didn’t trust any of these people or aliens.
The minute he sniffed bullshit or the plan looked like failing, he’d run, get away, and spend his final time on Earth under his terms.
Aimee gestured to her left, and they approached the sinkhole, or attack tunnel as she called it. The dull silver nose cone of a croatoan attack vessel rose from the chasm, slumped to one side, covered in a thin layer of dirt. A gap the size of a door had been cut into the bottom of the giant cone at ground level.
Charlie thought back to when he saw his first one, when he dangled at the bottom of a rope in a sinkhole near Roanoke Sound. It came from directly below him, smoothly rising out of a cloud of electricity-filled smoke. He managed to scramble up the rope and run, along with the rest of the people, before it sent out a pulse jarring through his body and killing anything electronic in the area as the croatoan soldiers spilled out to take control. Shock and awe. Nobody was prepared.
“Don’t be frightened. They mean you no harm,” Aimee said.
She entered the vessel and disappeared to the left. Charlie took a deep breath and followed. Inside, he immediately looked down. In the center, a hundred-meter drop to the bottom of the structure. Several torches were burning at the bottom, providing dull lighting for the off-white interior. A two-meter-wide shallow spiraled platform curled around the edge all the way down.
Aimee didn’t wait and started her descent. The platform’s coarse surface scraped against Charlie’s boots, providing decent grip. As he made his way down, his eyes became used to the light.
Seats ran around the wall, hundreds if not thousands of them, with a raised bar above each, probably used for securing croatoan soldiers as they rose to the
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