“Control? I thought you were allies?” Layla said.
“We are. You can’t begin to understand the geopolitics of my people’s empire. But you’re wasting time with petty questions. Follow me to the staging area. I’ll introduce you to the commander of zone four.”
Denver moved alongside Hagellan as he passed a row of tredeyans surrounding a central screen. One glanced over its greasy shoulder. Denver looked away, wanting to avoid eye contact, and followed Hagellan toward an entrance on the far side of the room.
“Is there another way back to Earth?” Denver asked.
“No,” Hagellan said, snapping his response before leading them beyond the command center.
A natural cavern lay on the other side of the command center. A straight path cut through the rocks. Bright lights were attached high on the brown walls, just before the roof arched at a height of forty meters.
Numerous tunnels of varying size led off to the left and right.
Denver counted at least fifty as they headed toward a loud collection of mechanical noises at the far end of the path. He wondered where they might lead and if any would provide an escape route if required.
Most of the tunnels were shrouded in darkness or disappeared around bends, but he spotted signs of life along one of them. He stopped and peered into the gloom, spotting an area packed with small green cages. A tredeyan leaned in front of one and held what looked like a piece of meat on a metal spike through the bars.
“Come,” Hagellan urged.
Charlie nudged Denver and he followed his dad, tracing Hagellan’s footsteps.
Layla kept pace with Denver, occasionally glancing aside to him, her face trying to communicate something more complex than her expression. Denver could guess what she was thinking but couldn’t respond, not while they were here, underground, with god knows what.
As they neared the end, the path twisted round to the left. Denver stopped and took a deep breath. The cavern opened up and the path descended into a two kilometer or so wide bowl-shaped area.
Four shallow levels packed with hundreds of alien machines, crafts and vehicles ran down to a parade ground at the bottom. At least five thousand troops in tredeyan armor lined up in formation, watching strange icons flash on a large blue holographic map of the planet. Information streamed below it.
“Jesus Christ,” Charlie said.
Layla pressed her hand against her forehead. “You can say that again. This is nuts… crazy. I can’t believe we’re seeing all this… I mean, it’s just started to hit home where we are, what we’re seeing.”
Being born during an alien invasion, Denver grew up with the concept of aliens as normal. For him, this wasn’t so shocking. It stood to reason for him that there were more in space, which meant more danger for the human race. Charlie once showed him around the crumbling remains of the Metlife stadium while giving a lesson about their former culture. The idea of watching competitive sport seemed abstract to him, even a little pointless compared to what he had devoted his life to.
He scanned the cavern, looking for sources of imminent danger.
A platform raised a graphite-colored aircraft to the upper level of the bowl. Two bipeds, the size of humans, in dark blue uniforms and helmets with mirrored visors, sat in the domed cockpit of the V-shaped craft.
The ship looked built for combat with its numerous gun turrets and sharp angles. It reminded him a little of the US stealth fighters he had seen crashed into the woods.
The platform twisted and the light blue rear engines roared. Natural light washed the craft, coming from a wide rectangular entrance near the roof of the cavern.
“Wait here,” Hagellan said. “We might have trouble. I’ll talk with them.”
“Talk to who?” Denver said.
Hagellan pointed toward the left edge of the cavern. “We have other company.”
Three croatoan hunters stood by their distinctive cobalt blue fighter craft. The sight of them made Denver sick to his stomach as he thought of Baliska.
The fighter rose from the platform and hovered in the air for a couple of seconds before accelerating forward and zipping out of the gap. Its engine’s roar reverberated along the launch tunnel as the natural light disappeared beneath a motorized canopy.
A hundred or so of the troops on the parade ground filed out of a tunnel on ground level. Hagellan made it to the bottom of the ramp and approached the three hunters.
“Are you watching this?” Denver said.
“Like a hawk,” Charlie said.
“This is unbelievable,” Layla said. “Look down there.”
She pointed down to the second ramp. A hover-bike in the style of a catamaran spiraled into the air and headed for the launch tunnel. A tredeyan driver sat at the front and controlled it using a bright touch screen. Another stood behind the turret of a mounted pulse cannon.
“Run,” Hagellan croaked through the intercom.
“What?” Denver said.
Two of the hunters sprang at Hagellan and hauled him to the ground.
“Run for the tunnels. Keep heading up—”
The feed cut to static. Denver looked at Charlie and back down toward the croatoans. The remaining hunter, dressed in meshed gray body armor, peered up and drew its sword.
“I think Hagellan meant get the hell out of here,” Layla said.
“No shit,” Denver said. “Let’s move!”
Charlie unslung his rifle. “Follow me.”
Denver checked his oxygen reading. They had one hour left and were now on the run in an alien cavern system. Not good. Not good at all. He sprinted after Charlie and Layla as they headed for the nearest tunnel.
They disappeared through its dark entrance. Denver turned to check behind before following the other two. The croatoan hunter tore around the corner.
Denver backed into the darkness, avoiding being spotted. “Come on, get going. It’s right outside looking for us.”
“I’m taking it nice and slow,” Charlie said. “Who knows what we’ll bump into?”
They rounded a dogleg. At the end of the tunnel a small glow of white light spilled out of a room. Charlie ran forward, leaned against the wall and looked around the corner. “Looks like a lab. There’s an entrance on the other side.”
“Go for it,” Layla said.
The noise of metal scraping on rock screeched from behind them. Denver knew the hunter must have seen him. He aimed into the darkness and backed away, following Charlie and Layla into the brightly lit lab area. Vials and measuring instruments cluttered the metal tables.
Charlie swept an opaque piece of plastic to one side and entered a carved stone corridor. Layla held the sheet back to allow Denver to back safely in. They turned and ran into darkness, their hurried footsteps slapping against the smooth surface.
Glass shattered against the floor in the lab. The damned hunter was right on their trail now. Charlie skidded to a halt at the end of the rough-hewn tunnel.
Layla screamed, her voice high-pitched and full of panic as an alien shriek pierced the air. A muscly tentacle lashed out from the shadows, knocking Denver’s rifle out of his hand. A black, stealthy form slithered across the wall. Denver turned to face the enemy and staggered back at the sight of it as it prepared to attack.
Chapter 3
SPARKS ARCED through the cold frigid air like a rainbow of fire. Each ember sizzled against the workshop’s stone floor made frosty by the chilled exhalations of autumn.
The grinder screamed its satisfaction while smoothing off the sharp edges of Augustus’ new steel mask. The croatoan engineer had proved to be surprisingly artistic in its creation.
Augustus had only given him a rough sketch of what he wanted, but the little alien took the task personally and embellished the design with dramatic eyebrows, deep cheekbones and a breathing grille hidden beneath cruel lips.