| |
Augustus and his Praetorians escorted us back to the encampment’s gates. The portal opened upon our arrival, revealing the abandoned airport ahead. The top half of Orion was visible above the edge of the terminal building, from which jutted boarding tunnels. Ten of the Reapers’ black Recons were parked in a line to the left of the building, facing toward us. They were distant – maybe a quarter of a mile away. A line of men stood in front of the Recons, far across the flat expanse of dirt and runways. One of these men had to be Carin Black.
We marched forward to meet with the Reapers and their Warlord. We were finally going to meet Carin Black, the terror of Los Angeles. This man had ruined thousands of lives when he overthrew the Lost Angels in 2055, enslaving or killing any who resisted. The only beneficiaries of the violence had been his own gang, the Black Reapers. I didn’t know what was going to happen at this meeting. Neither Augustus nor Carin trusted each other, so I felt anything could happen.
After a few minutes, we were near the Reapers. I saw Carin Black now. He was a tall man with pale blue eyes. They did not look like the eyes of a man who had done so much evil, and it was hard to believe that his toad-like son, Onyx, was his. He was probably forty years of age, and at first glance, he definitely seemed to be someone of intelligence and ability. His dark hair was cropped close, and his pale muscled arms held various tattoos – on his left biceps was the skull and cross-scythes that seemed to be the gang’s emblem, while a red, fiery snake ran down his left forearm. His right biceps was dominated by an intricate tattoo of a grim reaper bearing a scythe. The reaper himself was swirling in darkness, and had glowing red eyes within his shadowed cowl. The Warlord of the Reapers stared at us with those crystalline blue eyes, his thin, bloodlike lips horizontal. That gaze was like a rush of cold wind.
At last, we halted before him. The Praetorians made a line, flanking us on either side. For a long moment, the two sides stared each other down. The moment dragged into minutes, each leader refusing to speak first.
Finally, Carin Black raised a hand.
“You said the prisoners had something to tell me.”
Augustus waited a moment before nodding toward Ashton. Ashton gave the Emperor an annoyed sideways glance. I could tell he’d rather Augustus do the explaining, but we had to do our part of getting the two forces to work together. We needed that spaceship, after all.
Ashton summed up the basics of what we had learned about Askala and the Radaskim in about five minutes, a telling that should have taken five hours. He concentrated mostly on the science of it: how the xenovirus basically worked, the two opposing sides, composed of Elekai and Radaskim, and how we had to destroy the Radaskim side by infecting Askala in Ragnarok Crater. Carin Black would have been familiar with perhaps just the viral aspect of the monsters, but everything else was probably new information.
When Ashton was finished speaking, Carin shifted his focus to Augustus.
“I would ask if this was a joke,” Carin said, “but it’s obvious he meant every word. So what do you propose we do about it, Emperor?”
“We have to shift our focus,” Augustus said. “The Wastelanders no longer pose a threat. In fact, I have convinced them to ally with us. The swarm that destroyed them is coming to destroy us.”
“They are all dead, then?” Carin asked, arching an eyebrow.
Augustus nodded. “There is but a remnant left. These are the only ones I found. They also know how to destroy Askala, which is the only way to stop the swarm.”
“How long before these...Radaskim....arrive?”
“A few days, at least. We must secure the eastern portion of the city and man the fortifications. When the horde is defeated, we can plan the counterattack.”
“And where will we be attacking?” the Warlord asked.
“Ragnarok Crater.”
Carin went quiet at that. I realized how ridiculous it sounded. Ragnarok Crater was almost two thousand miles away, an unfathomable distance, especially when considering the Great Blight.
“Of course, we wouldn’t be directly attacking Ragnarok Crater,” Augustus said. “We would be advancing toward it, hopefully drawing the attention of the Radaskim. This would give the Wastelanders an opening to attack the Crater, if it has been emptied.”
“You sound like you don’t know if this is going to work,” Black said.
“There are no guarantees,” Augustus said. “The only guarantee is our mutual death should we do nothing at all.”
Carin appeared to be deep in thought. I noticed his son, Onyx, among the ranks of Reapers. His dark eyes glinted as if he knew some secret that would change everything, if only we knew. That made me distrust Black. There was something he wasn’t telling us. Anna stared at the Warlord with open loathing, but Carin did not seem to notice, or care.
At last, Carin gave a small, superior smile. “And so we find ourselves caught in our enemy’s net.”
Augustus frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I’ll not play the bait,” Black said. “What is to stop the Wastelanders from allowing Askala to do what they cannot do themselves? We will be destroyed, Augustus, while our ‘friends’ escape.”
“Nothing’s stopping you from doing the same,” Anna said. “How do we know you’re not planning to let us die?”
Carin’s cold eyes turned on her. “If you are suggesting that I would betray my ally, then you have misjudged. If there is any betraying to be done, it won’t be on my part.”
“Then why not work together?” Augustus said. “The original purpose of our alliance has ended. The Wasteland is already ours, as all of its players have been taken over by Askala. If we are to keep our gains, we have to destroy her. Surely, you see that.”
Carin Black frowned. “Is there any Wasteland left to own? Supposing we are victorious, we will only have the coastline of California left. The rest will be covered in Blight. And my concern, Emperor, is that you did not come here from Nova Roma to do us a good deed. No, you want to control all of the Wasteland. And if you do not want me dead, then you’ll at least want me to kneel at your feet.”
“Come now, Carin,” Augustus said. “Whether my army is here, or in the south, you will not be able to contend with my strength. After all, a small country cannot contend with a great. The few cannot contend with the many. And the weak cannot contend with the strong.”
Carin’s face darkened. His men looked nervously at one another, waiting for their leader to respond.
“You call me weak, Emperor?”
Augustus, aware of his advantage, pressed on. “I call you fortunate, Carin, that I even allow you the opportunity to serve the Empire, because the many men who have taken your stubborn stance are no longer standing.”
Carin went quiet, staring at the Emperor with his glacial eyes.
Augustus continued. “What is your decision, Carin? You have two roads before you. One leads to survival and peace. The other to death and destruction. The Radaskim will be here in days, and she will not care about our petty differences. Will you join me on the field of battle?”
“I will join you,” Black said. “I will join you, only if you leave this city afterward, never to return.”
“Very well,” Augustus said. “Los Angeles will be left in peace, but I do hope, for your sake, that you won’t be completely closed to communication in the future. For the sake of our continued friendship.”
Black’s face reddened. “That is my condition. I know you need my help as much as I need yours. You won’t convince me otherwise.”
“We will work together then, my friend,” Augustus said. “Victory will require sacrifice, on both of our parts. I am willing to pay my dues in order to help you defend your home. I hope, in the coming days, you will think on what you can do to help me.”
Carin gave a weak smile. “Very well, Augustus. You have your agreement.”
“Good. We will meet again tomorrow to coordinate our battle plans.”
Carin nodded. “I’ll be preparing my men for the defense. We might need to fall back behind the walls.”
“Yes, the walls will help,” Augustus said. “But bravery is an even stronger defense. These monsters have a way of breaching barriers, and they have flyers. The spaceships will help, but there might be too many for me to fight alone.”
“Then you are going through with your plan?” Black asked.
“Yes, as I have told you,” the Emperor said. “Tomorrow I’m taking the Wastelanders to Bunker Six to liberate Perseus.”
Carin nodded. It was hard to read those eyes, whether something was hidden behind them. In the end, though, the Warlord of the Reapers gave a slow nod, reaching out a hand.
“It is done,” he said.
Augustus clasped the hand. Neither man’s gaze shifted from the other; both refused to be the first to look away.
“Tomorrow afternoon, Black,” Augustus said.
Carin gave a nod. I could tell he wasn’t satisfied with the way things had gone, but Augustus was right. The Empire was just too powerful for Carin to attack openly. If he tried anything, it would have to be sneakier.
As Augustus and the Praetorians broke away, we followed them back to the Novan encampment. At the same time, Carin ordered his men back to their Recons.
I didn’t trust Black to keep his word. It was obvious he resented his more powerful “ally” and that he worried about the aftermath of the battle. Augustus had been surprisingly blunt about how Carin Black would be treated. He had acted less like an ally and more like a bully, but Augustus had to know that Carin would stab him in the back if he got the chance.
We reentered the gates of Augustus’s camp. At Augustus’s order, the majority of the Praetorians disbanded, leaving only six to guard the Emperor, Maxillo included. We walked the rest of our way through the camp as evening settled into night.
We stopped outside the Emperor’s large tent. He turned to Maxillo.
“Have them wait inside for now. I’ll be back shortly. In the meantime, make yourselves comfortable.”
And with that, the Emperor walked away; Maxillo and another Praetorian peeled off from the original six to stand guard over us. Maxillo gestured toward the tent flap.
There was nothing left to do but to follow the order and go inside.
***
THE EMPEROR’S TENT was a world within a world. Inside its thick, canvas walls, the bustle of the camp had dimmed. However, I could still hear men shouting, hammers tacking, the wheels of carts squealing, horses neighing, and feet stomping. The air inside was thick, scented with some spicy fragrance. Intricate Persian rugs of purple and crimson covered the ground so thickly that none of the grimy tarmac of the runway was visible, or even felt, beneath my boots. Lamps and candles radiated yellow warmth, sending shadows dancing on the canvas walls bedecked with the furs of jaguars, bears, and other exotic creatures. The lavishness of the entry area made this feel less like a tent and more like a palace.
A richly clad man stood within a curtained partition that led deeper into the tent. I recognized him from Augustus’s palace, back in Nova Roma. He was the butler who had seated us during our first audience with the Emperor. He introduced himself as Zuma, and offered us chilled wine to drink. After we declined, he withdrew to the corner and stood silently.
Maxillo stood by the tent flap, his demeanor as hard as stone. The other Praetorian must have been guarding outside.
At last, Augustus returned, startling me as the tent flap whipped opened. I caught a glimpse of a few Praetorians standing outside, armor flashing by the light of torches. The flap fell, shutting out the night.
Augustus adjusted his steel breastplate. Quickly, Zuma stepped forward, to take off the Emperor’s rich, purple cape. Augustus cleared his throat as the cape was unclasped. The butler hung it by a hook along the far wall.
As the butler set to work on helping Augustus take off his armor, the Emperor faced us.
“It’s clear Black is nervous. Why wouldn’t he be, when my whole army is camped outside his walls? When I have a spaceship? I can’t predict what he will do, and that’s what’s bothering me.” Augustus paused, shrugging off the breastplate. Beneath, he wore a white, linen undershirt. “That makes reaching Bunker Six quickly all the more important.”
“Are you serious about wanting to ally with us?” I asked.
Augustus gave a small smile. “Never doubt my words, Alex. Many men have, to their peril. What I told you by the wreckage of Gilgamesh remains true. We must work together to ensure the future of humanity. Whoever controls this world, in the end, is a less important question. The important question is how we can save this world.” Augustus gestured with his head outside the tent. “Those barbarians don’t understand that, and they can’t be made to understand that. They only understand blood.”
None of us responded to Augustus. It had been a long day, and all I could think about was eating and sleeping.
Seeming to sense this, Augustus turned to Maxillo. “Take them to the First Cohort and see that they’re fed. I want them to see how this army works. After that, show them to an empty tent.”
Maxillo nodded, holding the tent flap open for us to walk out.
“We’ll head for the Bunker tomorrow morning,” Augustus said. “It shouldn’t be long, now.”
We headed out of the tent and into the night.