The hunter let out a loud grunt and dropped the sword. It punched the creature in the chest. The second tentacle wrapped tighter around the hunter’s neck as they struggled in a deadly embrace.
Before any of them had a chance to fire into the wrestling match going on in front of them, a raspy voiced called out from the shadows of the tunnel to their left.
“Come here,” it said. “If you want to live.”
Charlie and the others looked at each other with their eyebrows raised.
“I mean you know harm,” the tredeyan said again, waving them away from their position and toward the tunnel entrance.
That was when Charlie realized the voice was coming over their intercom. Denver realized too. “How did it get into our intercom?”
“Come before another hunter arrives,” the tredeyan said, more urgently this time as it looked over at the creature slowly strangling the croatoan to death.
“What about that thing in front of us?” Denver said.
“Do not worry for now, come quick.”
With options severely limited, Charlie decided they had little choice, even if it was a trap. He didn’t want to hang around and waste ammo when they might need it later. He stood and carefully crept away from the area around the entrance, toward the tunnels. Denver and Layla followed, both keeping an aim on the creature. It shook its head and tore out a section of the hunter’s bowels.
Layla’s foot crunched against a piece of rock. The creature looked up and bared its teeth. It stooped low and extended its tentacles. All three of them were out in the open and the creature prowled forward.
The tredeyan ran ahead of them and burbled something. The creature’s features softened. It turned back, coiled a tentacle around the hunter’s neck and dragged its limp body back through the dark tunnel, leaving a trail of croatoan blood on the ground.
Charlie turned to the tredeyan. “What the hell is that thing?”
“A clusp. They guard some entrances and will attack if you are not tredeyan. Like your guard dog.”
Denver grunted. “Huh, some dog.”
“The croatoans let you keep them here?” Layla said.
“They are not allowed in our private areas, but it often happens. Some go hunting and pay the price. I am Vingo. Follow me.”
The alien, whose gender Charlie couldn’t make out, turned and headed back to the tunnel where it first appeared. Charlie shook his head, trying to get over the bizarre turn of events since they’d arrived at the gate. He just wanted five minutes of peace and safety to take stock and figure out what the hell to do next—they had just forty minutes of air left. After that… well, he didn’t want to think about that.
VINGO SMOOTHLY STEPPED along in his quietly whirring suit and led them through a wide carved-out hallway. Small rooms lined either side. Each looked sterile, with a bed, workbench, screen and speaker attached to the wall. Not untypical of any barrack rooms Charlie had seen throughout the years. Several were occupied, but only a couple of the tredeyans looked up when the group passed.
“I thought you lot would be pissed off about the gate?” Charlie said.
“You did us a favor,” Vingo said. “It might stop the croatoans coming to our planet.”
“What kind of alliance do you actually have?” Layla asked.
“As the ancient species, they believe they are the guardians of the universe. That means taking what technology and resources they want to maintain control. We had the gate and negotiated access. Earth was a root and food resource for them.”
“Why even bother coming to our planet?” Denver said. “Seems like a lot of effort.”
“They have limited space on their homeworlds and need to expand. I suppose their belief system helps justify their actions. It’s not easy to explain.”
Vingo ushered them into what looked like a warehouse of sorts with solid dividing walls stretching up to the ceiling that split the space into eight football-field-sized sections. Hundreds of empty armored suits stood in neat rows of twenty in the first compartment. Opposite, thousands of different-shaped small arms were mounted on metal frames with ammunition boxes below.
Gurgling and raspy shouts echoed around the spacious chamber.
“How is your English so good?” Layla said.
“I was part of the integration team that brought humans to Tredeya. We took from one area to keep a common language in place.”
“Why did you do that?” Denver said.
“The human decision-making process and ability to change is second to none. You’re a valuable resource… to many of the galaxy’s various factions.”
“What made you think we were there for the taking?” Charlie said, hiding his irritation about the alien’s apparent flippancy over kidnapping his own flesh and blood.
“It’s a question of development and requirements. Think about your own planet and you will see a microcosm of the universe.”
Charlie shook his head. “Do you understand the word bullshit, by any chance?”
The tredeyan nodded and its nostrils closed and opened. “Regional areas develop at different rates, whether that’s intra- or interplanetary. The stronger usually take from the weak. Some claim it’s a divine right, others that they are doing it for the sake of enhancement. Whatever the reason, it matches the requirements.”
“So what exactly did you do with the people you took?” Layla said.
“There’s more of your kind in the universe than on Earth. We expanded your race. I spent a long time at one of our outposts with a team of fifty humans. We work well together.”
“Are we expected to believe this was all a selfless act?”
“I never claimed it was. The human-adapted suits are near the back. This way. You’ll need them, as your air is running low.”
They passed rows of purple body armor to a section of navy blue suits with helmets propped on the top of each one. Charlie remembered the crew of the fighter in the staging area and wondered if humans born in space, brought up in alien cultures, would even acknowledge or view him as the same species.
The suits had a knife attached to the chest and a small black screen on the right forearm. Vingo activated three and checked the data display. “Suit up. We’re leaving this place.”
“Are we now? And where do you think you’re taking us?” Denver said, sweat beading on his face. Charlie saw that he was leaning his weight on his good leg. His leg no longer bled, but it looked bumpy beneath the fabric of his cargo pants.
“To my village. I can keep you safe. We have systems to produce oxygen and you can eat our food.”
“Why are you doing this for us?” Layla said, not hiding her suspicion.
Vingo pressed the pad on the closest suit. It split down the left and wound half open with an electric grind. “I want to make sure my family are safe. You can help me get there. We are going to pose as a patrol. Work together, yes? Or, you can always stay and fight your way out of the tunnels full of clusps. Your choice.”
This sounded more like a personal mission rather than clandestine help from the tredeyans behind the backs of the croatoans. Charlie was flying blind since he’d arrived on this godforsaken planet; they had little choice. With Hagellan out of action for whatever reason and his warning to run, along with a lack of oxygen, and Denver’s leg… staying would be suicide.
“Wait,” Charlie said, grabbing the tredeyan. “My boy got injured by that clusp of yours. Do you know medicine?”
The alien turned to look at Denver and lifted the leg of his pants.
Layla gasped. The flesh had turned black and in the middle of it all was white puss seeping from a wound. The blood had coagulated.