Critical Path

The guard rapidly nodded, jogged over and twisted a key in the lock. Charlie edged back as the guard shoved open the door.

Aimee stood at the entrance. “Have you made your decision?”

“I’ll speak to Hagellan. But I need some guarantees. My son and friends—”

“They are not in Unity; I can’t give you any guarantees on them. Use whatever resources you need. We’re all in the same fight.” She waved the guard forward. It dumped a robe and belt next to Charlie’s feet. “Put these on. Quickly.”

Charlie picked up the damp, heavy robe. “I thought you ran this town? Who or what are you hiding from?”

“It’s more for Hagellan’s protection. Some of the older croatoans are wary of any senior officer that comes to Unity. His integration will be gradual. There’s also Augustus. I need to explain to him that he’s slipped a place down in the pecking order. I suspect he won’t like it.”

“No shit. He only likes power and causing pain.”

He slipped the robe over his head. It had a musty smell that reminded him of time spent with Pippa. They had gone away for a weekend to evaluate a dig site in 2012. Charlie had left wet clothes in the washing machine to fester for three days. When they got back, the clothes smelled exactly the same as the robe he shuffled over his body. Pippa laughed and said it was his usual odor.

These small connections kept Charlie grounded, reinforcing exactly what he lost, thanks to the aliens and their charlatan human helpers.

“We need to go,” Aimee said. “When I return, I’m taking Baliska as my new champion. You can stay with Hagellan or return and fight him.”

“Where are we going?”

“To the converted barracks at the bottom of the invasion tunnel. There’s a croatoan temple. Most humans don’t go down there, and nearly all croatoans stopped worshipping a few years ago. It’s safe.”

Charlie pointed at Baliska. “You can bring him with us. Besides you, he’s the only other friend I’ve got around here.”

He hated himself for saying it, but after hours of drawing in the dirt, they’d struck an alliance. Baliska loudly clicked and held out a gloved hand when Charlie scrawled a man in a mask and punched it with his fist.

Aimee eyed both of them with a look of suspicion. She briefly left the cell and spoke with the croatoan outside before calling to the guard, “Release the prisoners into my custody.”

Charlie walked out of the cell into the morning sunshine bathing the courtyard. He wondered if Augustus left him out of manacles because he wanted Charlie to fight, taunt or kill Baliska. Whatever the reason, the crazy old fucker wouldn’t be deciding his fate for the moment.

A guard scuttled into the cell, and Charlie heard the clanking of chains. Shortly after, Baliska’s helmet scraped on the underside of the door as it stooped outside in its dusty graphite uniform. The giant croatoan stood in front of Aimee, gently ticking. It flexed its arms and turned to the other alien who accompanied her to the ludus.

After a brief conversation in their mother tongue, the smaller alien pulled out its thigh sword and handed it to Baliska. It swished the blade through the air, practicing two swings before turning to face Charlie and Aimee.

Charlie tensed. A moment of truth arrived for their flimsy pact.

Baliska stood for a couple of seconds, towering over them, and then slid the sword into the scabbard attached to its thigh.

It took a brown robe from the other croatoan and held it up. The thing would never fit. Baliska tore it down one side, as easy as if it were made 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.”