by N. W. Harris
The lower parts of the structure were reserved for the bureaucracy who supported the royal families. Athos had an office on an upper level. Preferring the company of his troops to the self-righteous aristocrats, he’d visited it only a few times on the voyage.
The meeting hall occupied the top floor, a large, open chamber with a curved table around the perimeter and no roof, such that the occupants could look up into space—or in this case, at the blue-and-green planet above. Between pillars that lined the circumference, a large portion of the city could be seen. It was the perfect vantage point from which the royals could look down their noses at the citizens aboard the ship, a hobby that many of them engaged in with nauseating enthusiasm.
A roar of conversation dominated the room. The ten eldest members of each of the Pegasus’ four royal families sat or stood around the table—some argued and others studied the holographic images floating in the center of the room with slack jaws and eyes widened by awe and fear. The computer displayed recordings from the cameras on the lost ships, transmissions sent moments before their destruction.
“Those are Shock Troops.” Gentras, the appointed speaker, stepped behind his podium.
The image was of one of the ship’s reactor compartments. A Shock Troop soldier was sitting at the reactor controls, and six others fired plasma bursts into the engineers who tried to stop them.
“It’s the rebels!” someone else shouted above the roar of nervous conversation.
“What’s to say they aren’t on this ship as well?” Kilnasis Osiris, the eldest member of the richest family on the Pegasus, shouted. Back on Anu, the Osiris estate paled in comparison to eighty percent of the aristocrats’. As soon as the ship left the home system, Kilnasis began taking advantage of his new clout, parading around the ship and meddling in business better left to the military to impress the entourage of royals he could convince to follow him for the day. Athos hated sailing on smaller SRSs, with these minnows of high society behaving like emperors.
“General Athos,” Gentras said, raising his hands to silence the chamber. “I hope you’ve come to enlighten us on this predicament. Admiral Vecan is positively useless.”
The young admiral hunched in his seat to the left of the speaker, a look of helpless concern on his face. It was promising he hadn’t spoken to the council. It meant Athos had an ally, at least for the moment.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Athos boomed, skipping the formalities and ignoring accusatory glances cast at him from all sides of the table. He touched a control panel to turn off the holographic display and stepped into the center of the room. Gentras took his seat, an expression of impatient anticipation painting his and everyone else’s faces. They held so much power, but their lack of experience rendered them incapable of acting without the advice and guidance of military command.
Pelros stood by the wall, no chair assigned to the young lieutenant. Typically, someone of his rank wouldn’t be allowed to attend the council meeting, but Athos had brought him to every meeting since boarding the Pegasus. Athos had met early objections with daring glares, and now no one seemed to notice the young man anymore.
The room grew deadly quiet, and he could hear the royals breathing. Convincing the admiral his plan would work had been relatively easy, but this was a much tougher crowd.
“We don’t know what happened on those ships,” Athos began, pointing up at the Earth passing above. “We don’t know if it was the rebels, or if somehow the humans did this. I assure you, an investigation is underway. To blame the military without further evidence is premature. Any enemy can wear a disguise. I don’t need to remind you that the last rebellion was orchestrated by members of a well-known royal family.”
He paused and looked around the room, making eye contact with each of the royals. A few held his gaze, and some even had a challenge in their eyes, but most looked down at their monitors or at each other when his focus fell on them and pretended not to notice him.
Gathering his thoughts, he knew he had to choose his words carefully. He’d always walked a fine line when dealing with the royals. Act too weak and they’d devour him. Come on too strong and they’d go on the defensive, not listening to a word he said.
“What I can promise is that the Pegasus is safe,” he said. “I have my most trusted soldiers guarding all access to the reactor compartment and the control room. Only authorized personnel are being allowed into those spaces.”
“Your most trusted soldiers?” Kilnasis incredulously asked. “What, the Shock Troops? It looks like Shock Troops were the ones who destroyed the rest of the fleet.”
The room broke into an angry chorus of agreement, many of the royals glaring at Athos. Kilnasis was the most dangerous royal in the room. A wiry man who intimidated almost everyone he encountered, he could easily rally the rest against the general.
“Just because the perpetrators wore Shock Troop armor,” Athos boomed, pausing until his words caused the room to grow quiet once more, “doesn’t mean they were members of our elite fraternity.” He could ignore this first insinuation, but the Shock Troop code required vengeance for a second one.
“We mean no insult to the honorable Shock Troops, or to any soldier who serves Anu as you have during your long and illustrious career,” Gentras said, glancing at his counterparts with a warning in his gray eyes. He was Athos’ favorite elder onboard the Pegasus, a calm and assertive man who always sought a fair resolution and rarely let emotion cloud his judgment. He returned his gaze to Athos. “No fleet has ever suffered the losses we did during this attempted harvest. I would expect that we would have contacted Anu for reinforcements or that we would be returning home by now. Admiral Vecan has informed us that you requested we do neither. Apparently, you have some other plan. Would you care to enlighten us?”
“Yes—the admiral has been kind enough to allow me to speak to you before contacting Anu,” Athos began, keeping his tone stoic and his expression steely. “I take full responsibility for delaying standard protocol. This situation is unique, and I see an opportunity for the families of the Pegasus to capitalize upon this catastrophic failure.”
The angry expressions of several of the aristocrats faded, the word capitalize causing them to lean forward in their seats. Although he despised them and hated that they cared more for money than for honor and the glory of the empire, Athos knew these people all too well and knew he could use their greed to his advantage.
“Please, go on, General,” Gentras said without emotion, though Athos knew he adored wealth as much as the rest. “How can we possibly benefit from this disaster?”
Athos walked over to the control panel and selected the views of several barracks filled with human slave soldiers.
“As you can see, we have over ten thousand recruits currently onboard this vessel,” Athos said. “They are behaving as expected, and we’ve run extensive scans on each of them to ensure they are fully enslaved.”
“I hope you’ve got them well contained,” Kilnasis replied, condescension clear in his voice.
“Do not worry,” Athos assured. “The slave soldiers’ berthing is closely guarded. However, I believe there is no cause for concern. By the grace of the gods, we seem to be immune to whatever has happened onboard the other ships.”
“So we have ten thousand human soldiers,” Gentras said. “It’s a fraction of what our holds can accommodate and not enough to make a significant impact on any of our battlefronts. What are you proposing?”
Athos’ fingers danced across the control panel, unlocking a top secret file, to which only the highest-ranking officers in the Anunnaki military had access.
“As some of you may know, we’ve been working on technology that will allow us to enslave enemy soldiers who do not have the slave gene incorporated into their DNA.” He knew none of them was aware of the new technology, but some of the snobbish aristocrats glanced at each other as if they were privy to something their counterparts were not. The political games these
people played with each other made him sick.
An image of a plasma rifle came up on the holographic display in the center of the room.
“We’ve developed a nanodart that can be deployed in a low-energy blast of a plasma rifle,” he continued. The image changed to show the dart impacting a subject. “The nanodart enters the target, infects the brain, and has the same effect as the slave gene. It gives us control of the target, allowing us to subjugate aliens who were not genetically engineered to be slaves. More relevant to our current situation, it also amplifies the control signal from a recruit ship.” He looked around the room, waiting for someone to reach the conclusion he was coming to.
“Traditionally, a single recruit ship can control only a limited number of slaves,” Athos said. “But the nanodart links the slaves together, greatly increasing the number of recruits a single vessel can be in charge of. When used on a species that has the slave gene in their DNA, this number is significantly increased.”
“Are you implying that the Pegasus could continue harvesting humans beyond our capacity?” Kilnasis asked, his eyes widening.
“With this technology, we could potentially gain control of all the recruits on the planet, before reinforcements could even arrive from Anu,” General Athos replied. “And it wouldn’t initially require landing the Pegasus on the surface to continue the harvest.”
The royals broke into excited chatter, the fear and concern that had dominated the conversations before extinguished by greed. Athos knew they couldn’t resist the notion of unimaginable profits that would go to the Pegasus if she could complete the harvest. Allowing them a chance to digest what he’d just told them, he glanced over at Pelros, who still stood on the sidewall.
Kilnasis had brought his daughter to the meeting, and Athos wished Pelros would talk to her. When Pelros’ eyes met his, Athos nodded toward the girl, an attractive brunette with all the charms of a princess. Pelros’ father had put a scar on his name that could be erased by his marriage to a girl from one of the royal families, even if she came from a low-ranking family like the Osiris. As much as Kilnasis could be a formidable political enemy when he chose to side against Athos, the marriage would make him a powerful ally for life. But his nephew was too shy. When Athos looked back at him, trying to signal for him to move closer to the girl, Pelros just looked down at his feet, his face growing flushed. Athos frowned and returned his attention to the royals, most of who speculated on the value of the potential human slaves on the planet below.
“General,” Gentras said loudly, capturing the attention of the people in the room. “Why is it that so many of us have never heard of this technology? Has it been tested?”
“As you know,” Athos replied, “generals are awarded a stipend for research purposes. I’ve invested mine in this technology and planned to unveil it once we returned to Anu. My intention was to use the weapon on those species that do not have the slave gene. By doing so, we could defeat our enemies and increase the number of slave soldiers under our command. We could bring them all under the control of the Anunnaki military, even if we are greatly outnumbered. Unfortunately, the nanodarts have not been tested outside the laboratory.”
“A brilliant plan,” Gentras said. “Your well-known desire to secure a lasting growth for the Anunnaki Empire is admirable. It if weren’t for your unsavory family history, I think you would have made prime general a long time ago.”
Athos bowed as a reply to the compliment.
“If all the families agree, perhaps the next course of business is to allow the general to test his new technology,” Gentras continued. “We could send a landing craft to an isolated region of Earth where there are a limited number of human targets to utilize as test subjects.”
“Not so fast.” Kilnasis stood from his seat. “You are oversimplifying this situation. I don’t need to remind anyone that every ship in the fleet besides our own has been lost.” He paused, glancing around the room. “I’m as excited as any of you about the prospect of enslaving the rest of the humans before reinforcements arrive. It could be a lucrative operation that would bring great honor to our families. But, we are all operating under the assumption that the human species are naturally superior warriors, that they are the super weapon the Anunnaki need to overwhelm our enemies.”
Athos could see where this was going. Kilnasis was a gambler, and he loved the coliseum games.
“However, the reputation of the human species’ elite warrior status has not been proven,” Kilnasis added.
“Agreed,” Gentras said. “We need further proof that continuing the harvest using this untested technology is worth the risk. And we’ll need to hold a vote amongst the citizens on this ship. This council doesn’t have the authority to execute such a plan on its own. We require everyone’s support if this harvest is to be legal.”
“But we also don’t have much time,” the general interjected. “The crop is spoiling. Without the influence of a recruit ship’s command nodules, the slave gene is causing the humans to default to the self-destruct mode. There won’t be much of a harvest left if we don’t hurry.”
“Yes, time is limited, so we’ll have to come to a decision as quickly as possible. I propose we conduct some combat testing on a few of the human soldiers in the coliseum. Everyone on this ship is in a state of shock after what happened down there.” Kilnasis glanced around the room, a compassionate expression on his face. Athos knew this display of emotion was just an act. “We could hold some games. It would allow the citizens a reprieve from their grief. After we let them know they are safe, we can tell them of our plan. Human fights will help convince them that the slaves are completely under our control.”
“Sounds like a logical course of action,” Gentras agreed. “Everyone for public testing in the coliseum say aye.”
The vote was unanimous. The bloodthirsty royals would have their entertainment. It made Athos sick to think of wasting precious soldiers this way, even if they were slaves. Soldiers deserved to die on a battlefield for a cause. Not just for the pleasure of their masters watching them fight. He knew neither Gentras nor any of the other royals in the room really needed the games to prove the humans’ worth. Their favorite pastime was pitting alien soldiers against each other in the coliseum and watching them fight to the death. Their hobby disgusted him. If they wanted to see some bloodshed, he’d rather they suit up and go into battle alongside those who fought and died to maintain their wealth. But the games were an integral part of Anunnaki culture, and he knew well enough to keep his opinions to himself.
“Then it is decided,” Gentras said, slamming his gavel down. “Athos, will you select some humans for the presentation?”
“It would be an honor,” Athos said, bowing to Gentras and the rest of the council.
Shane stood on the roof of the hotel, head tilted back and eyes fixed on the heavens. Having slipped away from the rebels and the rest of the teenagers downstairs, he needed a moment to gather his thoughts and wanted to make sure Kelly hadn’t been abducted into deep space. He could see the pyramid-shaped spaceship that had escaped, racing across the night sky. Limited comfort came from knowing the enormous vessel still circled the planet. He felt so insignificant, such a minuscule insect in comparison to the ancient race of aliens who’d taken Kelly away from him.
In one of his sober moments before his mom died, Shane’s dad had taught him how to spot satellites—little white or silver spots rushing from horizon to horizon. Leeville had been the perfect place to look at the stars, having very few streetlights and being far away enough from Atlanta so that the city’s glow didn’t hide them. The alien ship was so big that it didn’t take a trained eye to spot it, even with the moon outshining just about everything else in the sky. When he’d looked up on those summer nights so long ago, he’d been filled with a sense of peace and had reveled in the moment alone with his father. Stargazing would never be the same; no tranquility would come from looking up ever again. Space was no longer an
infinite heaven where God and the spirits of his mother and grandmother resided. That blissful ignorance about what was out there was gone forever.
He squinted his eyes, as if somehow he’d be able to zoom in on the ship and see Kelly through its golden skin. What was going on up there? Was she safe? He was tormented with concern, scared he’d never see her again, and overwhelmed by how weak and insignificant he felt in comparison to the aliens who held her captive.
“It’s going to get really bad out there,” Lily whispered. She’d slipped up behind Shane without him hearing.
“It already is,” Shane replied. He stepped to the edge of the roof and looked over the parapet wall.
The mob had passed and dissipated into the city. Moonlight reflected in puddles of blood and illuminated hundreds of fresh bodies, scattered all around the building on the streets below. He’d seen a similar scene after the adults had been killed, and now the bodies of children were piling up around the rotting corpses of their parents.
“Armageddon’s Armageddon,” he said distantly, his vision blurring out of focus as he stared at the dead.
The sounds of fighting carried across Giza. Thousands of teens who wore the red armor of the Anunnaki slave soldiers pursued the other kids. Shane knew not only the slave soldiers were on a killing rampage. The kids without earbuds succumbed to the homicidal effects of the slave gene as well. Like the adults, they turned on each other. If the rebels didn’t find a way to shut the slave gene off, there weren’t going to be very many people left in the world to save.
A scraggly teenage boy slipped out of the shadows and moved from body to body in the street below, grabbing the dead by the hair and twisting their heads left and right as if he were searching for something. He stopped at a corpse bathed in moonlight and glanced around, as if to make sure no one watched him. After twisting the dead girl’s head, he let out a triumphant hoot. He rubbed his hands together and pulled a knife out of his waistband. Acid churned in Shane’s gut as he watched the boy cut the ears off the dead girl. He slipped them onto a long string, perhaps making a gruesome necklace. After the boy glanced up and down the street once more, he crawled on all fours to the next body, looking more animal than human.