Vingo’s body went limp, his pale face seemed to grow even paler behind the slightly shadowed visor. Layla thought about stopping Charlie, but frankly she found the whole novelty of being on an alien planet had worn off and she cared not if Vingo lived or died. It wasn’t as if he’d helped them much anyway.
Charlie struck Vingo again, his gauntlet clanging against the suit uselessly. He stood up, throwing the knife into a tree with an explosion of fury. It struck the branch with a twanging noise.
“Who are you throwing knives at, old man?” A voice spoke from the shadow of the tree, amplified by external speakers.
“Denver!” Layla said.
NOT FOR THE FIRST TIME, Layla regretted the necessity of wearing the bulky suit. She wanted nothing more than to shed her metal exoskeleton and grab Denver, sink herself into him and relish in his breathing, live body.
She shook her head as they all sat around a fire deep within an outcrop beneath a tree. The roots snaked down the sides of the dirt cave, holding the walls together, providing a small space for the four of them to huddle in around the fire.
She smiled, staring at him from across the fire. “How do you do it, Den?” she asked. “When I think you’re gone, here you are, living like bloody Tarzan as though it were the most natural thing in the world? And,” she added, nodding to the skertch corpse on the bank outside of the cave, “how the hell did you catch that thing without being dragged away?”
Denver blushed behind his visor and looked down at his hands before meeting her eyes again and shrugging. “I wanted to stay alive to find you guys,” he said, still talking over the external speakers due to his broken comm. Vingo was busy in the back of the cave, trying to fix the small module.
It was good for him to be out of the way. With the way Charlie acted, she didn’t doubt that things could boil over again and Vingo would soon join the dead skertch on the Jackson’s list of tredeyan kills.
“I’m proud of you, son,” Charlie said. “For coming for me, for surviving. I couldn’t have done this trip without you.”
“I don’t want to give up so easily,” Denver said. “There must be a way off this damned rock.”
Layla heard Vingo mutter something under his breath, the words muffled and incoherent over the comms. She assumed he was still bitter about Charlie’s attack and let him get on with his task. He had, to his credit, showed them how to prepare the fruit he had picked.
The small apple-like fruits were surprisingly good when roasted, having a kind of cinnamon taste. Layla could already feel some energy coming back to her exhausted body as she fed another piece through the feeding hatch—a small airlock system built into the helmets that allowed solid food to pass through.
The other option, Vingo had suggested, was to pulp them and put them into the suit’s liquidized food delivery system, but after a few days of that she wanted to experience solid food again.
“I’ve learned one thing while you guys were away,” Denver said. “Skertch tastes like utter crap.” He laughed, lifting the mood.
“It’s also venomous to humans,” Vingo said casually, still sitting with his back to them in the darkened shadows of the cave. “You’re lucky you didn’t start cutting into its venom sacs further into its body.”
“Good to know,” Denver said. “Though that might have been something to have told us before you took us for that little joyride over the water.”
“I’m sorry,” Vingo said.
For the first time, Layla sensed he did actually mean it, and not just in reference to the skertch info. The alien shuffled around to face them. Charlie tensed and reached his hand down to his hip where his knife was held.
Vingo saw the movement and stopped, but held out his hand toward Denver, who sat with his back to the side of the cave. “Your comm module,” Vingo said. “Fixed. Just had some loose connections… from the impact.”
Denver took it and plugged it back into the socket on the rear of his helmet. He switched over to internal comms, turning off the speakers.
“Can you all here me?” he asked.
A chorus of ‘yes’ replied.
“Good,” Charlie said. “At least we can talk without attracting god knows what other freakish animal is lurking out there.”
“There’s nothing else here,” Vingo said. “Not until the sun sets. We’re safe for now. Though the bleens might visit soon.”
“And what are they,” Charlie said. “Fifty-limbed, hook-mouthed bat dragons?”
Vingo blinked his dark eyes, only visible in the darkness due to their glossy surface reflecting the flames of the campfire. “They eat dead things. Will come for the skertch. Harmless to us.”
“Easy now, Vingo, that’s two pieces of good news you’ve given us,” Charlie said. “Whether it’s the truth is a different matter, right? Is honesty a concept with your species?”
“Yes,” Vingo said. “But it’s not linear, not binary like you humans perceive it. Truth to us holds many different aspects, some of which are more useful than others for a given moment.”
“Sounds like a whole lot of bullshit to me,” Denver said. “Hagellan was right what he said about your kind; you’re all politicians. We used to have people like you in our society too before your croatoan pals came and killed them all.”
“That’s the best thing the croatoans ever did,” Charlie said. “First the corrupt spineless politicians, then the lawyers, and after that celebrities, then everyone else. As much as I hate the croatoans, it was difficult to argue against their logic.”
Layla winced. Her parents had been involved in politics and she knew they weren’t all bad, but now wasn’t exactly the time to start a philosophical argument.
“So what now?” she said. “Now we’re all in one piece, have food and water, what’s next? My suit says that if I breathe normally, I’ve got about a single Tredeyan day before I suffocate to death.”
“Same here,” Charlie said, “though a little shorter.”
“Three-quarters of a day here until my filter’s done,” Denver added.
All three looked to Vingo.
“Well, traitor? What now, eh?” Charlie prompted. “Your people are dead, your ride off this fucking awful rock is destroyed, and the scion are taking over if the cessation of fire is what I think it is. We’re going to suffocate to death shortly, so you’ll no longer have bodyguards and meat shields to protect you. Tell me, what’s your plan B. I’m sure your kind can work something else out, right?”
“It is,” Vingo said. “We’re prized throughout the varied galactic factions for our problem-solving skills and ability to plan.”
“That sounds just peachy,” Layla said. “Perhaps you could enlighten us on your next course of action—one that preferably includes us, as you do kind of owe us.”
“I know,” Vingo said, slumping further into the shadows. He sounded tired, dejected. For the tiniest moment Layla felt sorry for him. It must have been hard to find his people killed and his ship destroyed. But like the croatoans, it was difficult to have full sympathy for a race that used humans as nothing more than disposable tools and resources—even if humans had been doing that to themselves for centuries.
The alien went still, his head slightly cocked.
A low keening voice came over the intercom.
“What is it?” Denver asked.
After a long, quiet pause, Vingo said, “The final warning signal… they’re dead… they’re all dead. The scion have taken the command center. We’re defeated. It’s… all over.”
Chapter 26