The officers guided Pelros to a park where some of the humans who were loyal to the Anunnaki tended a few horses. Thousands of Earth years ago, they had imported these beasts to Anu, and he’d ridden them while playing a sport stolen from Earth before he attended the academy.
“Where did you find these?” Pelros asked, excited by the opportunity to see one of the Earth-born horses in the flesh, much less the chance to ride one. Likely due to the higher gravity, they were shorter than the ones he used to ride, but they looked like they might have more muscle.
“Our allies provided them,” the officer said, nodding toward the humans.
“They were from the police department,” a human teenager said, making eye contact with Pelros.
He appeared to be a cocky human, one who didn’t respect the superiority of the Anunnaki people. Free will was the only flaw with these genetically engineered soldiers, and it was corrected when their slave gene was active. The Anunnaki created these humans, and they belonged to his people. To have this one speaking to him as if it were his equal made him furious. Pelros knew well enough they needed these humans if they were to survive. He’d have this boy diverting his eyes down when this was all over.
“Very well,” he said, stepping next to the horse. “Give me a boost.”
One of the other humans laced his fingers together to form a step. Pelros used it and tried to pull himself onto the horse. Pain flashed from his side, starving his arms of the strength required to lift his body in the excessive Earth gravity. The boy pushed him by his foot over the horse’s back.
“Your injuries, sir,” one of the officers said with concern.
“Injury,” Pelros corrected, glaring at the soldier and catching his breath. The kids had a curious expression on their faces. He didn’t like the officer’s remark and hated that he’d shown any physical weakness. “It is healing quickly. I shall be fine.”
The expressions dropped off the humans’ faces, and they went about their business. Only the oversized human with the smug expression of excessive confidence still stood by, holding the bridle of the horse.
“This is John,” the officer said, sounding like he regretted making the comment. He held his hand toward the human. “He’ll guide you to the Pegasus.”
“Very well,” Pelros said.
John grunted and released the bridle. He gave one last suspicious glance at Pelros and climbed onto the neighboring horse.
“This is probably the best weapon for you to carry on your ride to the ship,” the officer said, handing Pelros a pistol. “We control the entire city, so you won’t need it.”
“Thank you all the same,” Pelros replied, taking the pistol. “Ready when you are,” he said to John, trying to seem friendly. He hated having to treat these humans like anything other than what they were, the property of the Anunnaki people.
John nodded and nudged his heels into his horse’s ribs, trotting toward the Pegasus. Pelros looked back down at the officers and rolled his eyes to express his discontentment with having to play these games with the humans. His horse, apparently a follower, took off after John’s.
Riding the Earth beast was a bit different from riding the taller, lankier version they had on his planet, but the commander adjusted quickly. They weaved through the downtown area of the city and came out on a wide, straight road that led directly to the ship. They passed groups of humans who headed toward the ship, amassing the force around the base of the Pegasus to fight off whatever the green enemy intended to throw at them.
“Slow down, John,” he shouted, leaning forward on the horse. He wanted to get to his uncle as soon as possible, but every step the horse took made the wound in his side ache. His legs were so tired he feared he wouldn’t be able to hold on at a gallop.
John gave a mischievous grin. He brought his horse to a slower canter, and Pelros’ beast matched the pace. Lying forward, the commander focused all his attention and fading strength on staying aboard the animal.
The recruit ship looked sad without its golden outer skin, the skeleton of a once-powerful man of war. It towered above anything the humans had ever built, designed not only to hold whole armies of slaves, but also to intimidate. The species the Anunnaki harvested could not doubt the superiority of their new masters. Awe and fear made them obey even in the absence of genetic manipulation.
Even at the slower pace, it did not take long for the animals to make it to the Pegasus. Pelros brought his horse to a walk, riding out of the darkness and into the light shining down around the base of the ship. A camp with thousands of humans was organized in the warm glow reflected from above. Straight paths between the makeshift shelters led to the ship. Pelros couldn’t help but smile, though he tried to maintain the stoic expression of a soldier. Even without power, his people maintained control over the humans. More proof the Anunnaki were destined to rule them.
“Commander Pelros,” a Shock Trooper said, beaming down upon Pelros from his post on the ship’s steps.
“Sergeant Telof,” Pelros replied, happy to see one of the more seasoned soldiers trusted by his uncle.
He brought the horse alongside the base of the ship and slid off its back onto the steps, trying not to grimace at the discomfort it caused him. John took the bridle and led the steed away. Sore from the pounding his body had taken on the ride down, Pelros climbed to the sergeant and plopped down on the steps next to him. He rested his elbows on his knees and sighed, relieved to finally be home.
“It’s a blessing from the gods to see you alive and well, sir,” the sergeant said, studying him as if he expected to find some injuries.
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say well at the moment. I’ve had a bit of a rough journey, but I’m glad to be back,” Pelros replied with a pained chuckle. “What news of my uncle?”
A grim expression replacing his joy from seeing Pelros, the soldier sat down next to him. Unlike most soldiers who were careful about how they talked to Pelros and what they said to him, Telof was someone who would give him straight answers. The sergeant had been his mentor on field excursions while he’d been in the academy, and he’d served alongside Athos for much of his career.
“Well, sir,” he began. “It’s not all bad. The general is safe.” He rubbed his chin, gazing out across the camp. “It’s those aristocrats, sir.”
“I know. They’re not letting him leave the council building,” Pelros said. “What do the other soldiers think?”
“Most of us want to charge up there and force them to release him,” Telof replied. “But the general’s senior staff has been allowed to confer with him and say the council is still allowing him to act as the commander of the military. They just don’t want him to control everything.”
“Martial law is the only way we’ll survive this situation.” Pelros punched his open hand with his fist. “And the general must be allowed to come and go as he sees fit.”
“Yes, sir,” the sergeant agreed. “I’m certain you’d find plenty of soldiers to follow you up, if you want to put the council in their place.”
The light shining down on the sides of the ship and on the camp surrounding her dimmed. Pelros looked up toward the Pegasus’ city, watching the mirrors rotate. It was genius, using the light as a form of payment to the slaves. His people could survive anything. They could beat this green entity, but not if they were fighting among themselves.
“As much as I’m tempted to make a show of force,” he said, “it would be unwise. General Athos would’ve done that already if he thought it the right course of action.”
“Then what, sir?” The sergeant seemed confused. “We’re going to need General Athos down here when that green wall hits us.” He pointed toward the horizon.
“That’s what I have to convince the council of when I get up there,” he replied.
“Using politics to break him out.” The sergeant grimaced. “Better you than me. I’m more a fan of force.”
“Which is why I’m glad to know you sit on these steps, facing our enemy,” Pelros said, putting his hand on the sergeant’s shoulder. He used the soldier to steady himself as he stood and glared up at the climb he had ahead of him, feeling a bit dizzy from exhaustion. “This is going to be frightfully unpleasant.”
“Not to worry, sir,” the sergeant said. “We’ve rigged an elevator.”
He pointed at the side of the staircase. A bench attached to an angled frame rested on the smooth wall that ran up the side of the staircase. Stepping closer, Pelros noted rollers under the frame and ropes running up the ship.
“Crude,” the sergeant said, “but effective, I assure you.”
Pelros climbed on and took a seat. The sergeant whistled, and a soldier several steps above them waived a torch in the air. The chair jolted and began crawling up the wall.
“Far superior to walking,” Pelros said, smiling at the soldier.
“Farewell, sir,” the sergeant said. “Just say the word if you want us to assist you in freeing the general.” He patted the primitive Earth gun he had slung over his shoulder.
“Pray to the gods it doesn’t come to that,” he replied, returning the sergeant’s salute.
The bench moved at a steady though slow pace. He had plenty of time to survey the land to the north, and the moonlight was sufficient to see far. When he was a third of the way up the ship, he spotted the green wall the soldiers had mentioned. It curved around the Pegasus for as far as he could see, and he expected it was closing on them from all sides, tightening like a noose. The green wall fluctuated in height, rising to devour taller structures and then dropping back down so low he could barely see it.
His eyes half closed, he dozed while wondering if the wall was sterilizing the planet, killing all life so it could start again. Was this how his people would be made extinct, a green flame incinerating them such that even their DNA would be destroyed? The sad thought resonated in his head.
Biting his lip, he tasted blood. The pain helped him break free of the dismal conjecture and woke him up. That wall might stop once it forced the humans and Anunnaki into a tight arena together. Perhaps the enemy liked coliseum sports as well. The Anunnaki might be tested as they tested their slave soldiers. That would be sweet irony. With the army of loyal humans surrounding the ship, he was confident they could survive any assault by other humans the enemy forced upon them.
The bench entered the sunlight, coming to the top of the steps and stopping. Soldiers tending the elevator noticed the rank on Pelros’ collar and saluted him. He didn’t know them personally, though he guessed most soldiers would recognize him. After he saluted back, they helped him off the bench. His knees almost folded under him when he stood, but he managed to keep from crumpling to the ground. The soldiers eyed him with concern, and he returned their gaze with an expression that warned them not to ask about his condition. They continued about their business, lowering three soldiers who took his place on the bench down the side of the ship.
Surprised no one tried to stop him, Pelros walked away from the edge, through the soldiers stationed around the top of the ship. Most of the military personnel were around the perimeter of the city, and as he walked toward the center, he saw the citizens going about the business of performing supporting roles. Some were working in outdoor kitchens, cooking food for everyone, and others were organized into platoons, training to defend themselves if, gods forbid, the city was overrun. Pelros made it all the way to the circular council building before being challenged.
“Commander Pelros,” the guard blocking the archway he tried to enter through said. “It is a blessing to see you safe.”
“I understand my uncle is inside,” Pelros said, sizing up the soldier and deciding how best to get around him.
“Yes, sir.” The soldier hesitated. “Sorry, sir. I’m on strict orders not to let anyone who has not been preapproved by the council to enter the building. It’ll just be a moment.”
The soldier looked behind him and gave a signal to a clerk seated at the reception desk inside. The clerk nodded and hurried off, likely to get permission from the council for Pelros to enter.
“The council buildings have always been open to all citizens and soldiers,” Pelros objected. “What’s going on here?”
“I apologize, sir,” the soldier stammered. “I’m just following orders.”
“Whose orders?” Pelros controlled his frustration, wanting to gather as much information as he could before facing his uncle’s political enemies.
“The council’s,” the soldier replied, his tone implying he was uncomfortable with the source of his orders.
Weary with the exchange, Pelros crossed his arms, slumped onto a bench against the building, and waited. It wasn’t this soldier’s fault—he was just following orders. Struggling to keep his eyes open and not fall asleep on the bench, he glanced at the other soldiers standing guard nearby. They wore the same unsettled expression. They were confused and concerned. It wasn’t normal for their orders to come from the council; they were used to being under the command of the general and his officers.
“Commander Pelros,” Gentras said, coming out of the council building. “Why, you are resilient. We thought you dead.”
“I like to think I inherited a knack for survival from my uncle,” Pelros replied, trying to be pleasant though he wanted to tear into the elder.
“Speaking of the general,” Gentras replied, “I suppose you’d like to see him?”
“Straight away,” Pelros said, expecting an excuse as to why he couldn’t.
“He’s in his office,” Gentras said, leading the way into the building. “I have some other affairs to attend to. Perhaps we will have a chat later?”
“Indeed,” Pelros replied, unable to keep the ominous undertone out of his voice. “I imagine we will.”
He wanted to say more, to challenge the aristocrat and ask why his uncle had been restricted to the council building. However, it surprised him that he was allowed such easy access to the general, and he didn’t want to risk that opportunity with a premature confrontation.
Pelros didn’t see any soldiers inside the council building, only aristocrats and their staff. Many of them gave him surprised glances, those looks that showed they were shocked he hadn’t been killed. He ignored them, entering the stairwell a staffer directed him to. He stood at the bottom of the steps and looked up, wondering if he should ask someone to help him. He decided against it, knowing they’d just use his weakness against him.
Holding his injury with one hand and the handrail with the other, he slowly climbed the steps, expending what little energy he had left. He’d never been in the stairwell and didn’t even realize the building had them. Climbing to the second floor, he paused and rubbed his sore thighs.
“The gods do punish us so,” an arrogant voice said from above. “Taking our elevators from us in this horrendous gravity.”
“Kilnasis,” Pelros observed.
The wiry elder who loved aggravating his uncle came down to the landing. The council member undoubtedly had his hand in the business of restricting the general to the council building.
“We will get stronger,” Pelros replied, standing tall and trying to hide his exhaustion. “And that’ll be the gods’ doing.”
Catching his breath, Kilnasis studied him with his cold, piercing eyes.
“I’ve just come from the general,” Kilnasis said. “He’s meeting with his officers, planning our defense.”
“I expected he’d be at the base of the ship, or out in the city at least.” Pelros maintained a blank expression and tried to keep the anger out of his eyes. “He’s not one to linger behind the lines when a battle is imminent.”
“Yes, well. Congratulations on your promotion,” Kilnasis said in his usual tone of condescension. “A well-deserved token of the citizens’ appreciation for your service.” He said the last word with more emphasis, subtly putting Pelros in his place.
“Thank you, sir.” The commander smiled as convincingly as he could. His uncle had taught him to hide his true feelings around the aristocrats. He’d need their votes someday if he wanted to be promoted to general. Right now, he barely cared about that. Their power lust risked the lives of the people he had sworn to protect.
“You’ll understand that, under the circumstances, we had no choice but to ensure the citizens’ wishes are met,” Kilnasis said.
“I shall endeavor to,” Pelros replied.
The aristocrat studied him a moment longer before smiling as if he were satisfied.
“Very well,” Kilnasis said. “Carry on.”
Pelros nodded and climbed the steps to the third floor, using the anger sparked by the aristocrat as fuel. His uncle would’ve been proud. He’d wanted nothing more than to challenge the council members, to demand his uncle be allowed to come and go as he pleased. Such an approach would be unwise. They might’ve prevented him from seeing the general.
Exiting the stairwell, Pelros let out a long sigh. He didn’t see a reason why he’d have to climb any higher in the ship. After their meeting, he expected his uncle would order him back down to prepare the human army for battle. However, he’d need a few hours of sleep before he could handle much more.