Critical Path

The shot, silenced and suppressed with alien technology, made almost no noise. The downed alien looked around in all directions to see where the attack had come from, while letting out a clipped screech.

Definitely not a trained hunter, Denver thought as he crested the hill and in a crouching run, keeping to the side where the trees cast their shadows, headed toward his quarry, rifle up ready to fire if needed.

But he wanted this one alive.

* * *

Gregor let Venrick take the lead.

She’d been easy to convince to take point as they slowly made their way through the trees on the eastern side of the field. He really wanted to stop for another shot of root.

The long journey had meant the last dose was already wearing off. He would have preferred to be freshly rooted for this, but he had learned you don’t look a gift horse in the mouth and you don’t trust Greeks bearing gifts.

Neither do you let a croatoan walk behind you.

That was Venrick’s mistake. She loped forward, peering into the darkness with her superior eyesight, looking out for more scouts or guards. She had a soft throaty click that at times sounded almost musical.

He supposed it was their version of whistling.

Gregor stepped over a downed log and surprised himself by almost standing on a snake. It was nothing more than a glorified grass snake. Its green head looked up at him, its tongue briefly tasting the air, and deciding it didn’t like the taste of him or the alien, it slithered off into the shadows of the rotting log.

Birds tweeted up in the canopy, warning others about Gregor and the alien as they continued to stalk through the woods.

They eventually came to a bank with a fast-flowing brook. Large boulders provided a way across, but when Venrick stopped and turned to say something to Gregor, he was already lunging forward, knife in hand.

He collided with the alien, sending her collapsing to the bank’s edge.

With a heavy cut he severed her breathing tubes and rolled off while she struggled and gasped for air. Her large hands struggled to deal with the intricate task of rejoining the cut air tubes.

She rolled onto her front so that she could reach to the tanks behind.

Gregor lunged again, driving his knee into the hard scaly area of her lower back. He knew from his ‘experiments’ on the farm that this area protected an important organ of theirs. One he didn’t fully understand the function of, but knew that if it were struck, it would send them into a brief paralysis as some nerve was trapped or overloaded.

Stuck on her front and screeching and clicking, Gregor drove the knife into the back of her neck.

It took three attempts to fully pierce the tough hide, but the last thrust did the job. Severing the brain stem, her body twitched twice before becoming completely still.

Gregor unhooked the two tanks of root-enriched air and strapped them to his back. He pushed her heavy body into the brook and watched as she floated away, banging into rocks and eventually floating out of sight, leaving a trail of blood to dissolve into the water.

“One down,” Gregor said as he cleaned his knife and prepared another shot of root before he headed back.

CHAPTER TEN

Charlie caressed his aching wrists. The effects of the root had worn off, his only dose in a month. His knees creaked as he crouched, and he winced after stretching his left arm, feeling a twinge in his elbow. Payback time for his body after all those active years, and cheating his age, assisted by the alien plant.

The heavy ludus gate creaked open. Raised voices echoed down the passage. Charlie moved gingerly to the cell door and looked through its small barred window out into the sunlit courtyard. Aimee and an armed, helmetless croatoan dressed in blue cotton trousers and shirt stood in the center, facing one of Augustus’ guards.

She prodded her finger into the guard’s chest. “You will take me to them, immediately. I give the orders in Unity.”

“But Augustus said I wasn’t to let—”

Aimee gestured to her croatoan sidekick. It raised its rifle. The guard fumbled on his belt and produced a ring of keys. He turned toward Charlie’s cell.

Charlie dove down and rubbed his hand across the dirt surface, erasing markings that he and Baliska had been using as a way of communication. He glanced at the large alien, who turned away. Both prisoners had come to a basic understanding. They shared a common enemy for now: Augustus.

A key clattered in the lock and the cell door swung open. Aimee stood in the gap, peering down with a neutral expression. Her green dress looked faded and tatty on closer inspection. A rifle pointed over her shoulder in the direction of Charlie’s face.

“Augustus told me that you two have previously met. I’m surprised you haven’t torn each other apart,” she said.

“What would be the point of that?” Charlie said. “My enemy’s enemy is my friend. I don’t suppose that job offer’s still open?”