by N. W. Harris
“Why?” the woman growled. “Are you afraid he’ll learn the truth?”
Jones’ brow furrowed as he scowled at her. Shane studied his expression for any hint that he might be worried she’d revealed some ulterior motive. The captain didn’t seem to be hiding anything. He bit his lip, looking at Shane and back at the alien.
“We don’t have time for this,” Jones concluded.
He walked to the left side of the prisoner and removed the pistol from his belt. Before Shane could raise a hand to stop him, Jones leveled the barrel at her skull and pulled the trigger. The opposite side of the woman’s head exploded, splattering the damp basement wall. The pistol’s report was concentrated in the room, making it feel like nails had been driven into his eardrums.
“What the hell?” Shane shouted, pressing his hands to his ears to try to stop the ringing.
Jones rubbed his ear with his free hand. “Yeah,” he replied, looking at the gun. “That was a bad idea. Should’ve done it outside.”
Shane grabbed fistfuls of Jones’ shirt and shoved him back. The alien’s eyes widened with surprise, and he resisted, but he couldn’t prevent Shane slamming him into the wall. Jones grunted, his mouth opening as he tried to take a breath. Worried he may have done more injury than he intended, Shane checked his anger. He’d never touched one of the rebels, and the imbalance in strength between humans and Anunnaki surprised him.
Releasing him, Shane stepped back. The captain’s grimace was slight, but Shane could see crushed pride caused him to hide most of his discomfort. He’d spent a lot of time with the rebel during training and had come to respect him. But now, with what the prisoner said banging around in his head, he didn’t know what to believe. He searched Jones’ face for any sign of deceit.
“Why did you shoot her?” Shane couldn’t keep the tremor out of his voice. His relationship with Jones was forever changed. He’d come to think of the rebel like a coach, but he’d never lay a finger on Coach Rice, much less slam him against the wall. However, his dead football coach wouldn’t have done what Jones just did either.
“Because she was too dangerous to keep alive,” Jones replied, his expression saying it should be apparent. “We can’t take her with us. They’ll be scanning the planet, and if she were to manage to signal them…” He leaned closer to Shane, not appearing the least bit unsettled what he’d done. “We’d be done before we even started to save your friends.”
The captain slid his pistol back into the holster on his belt.
“And she’s Shock Troop,” he continued in a sinister tone. “She was already planning our defeat, filling your head with lies from the moment she met you. She talked to you in the wrecked escape pod, didn’t she?”
He stared at Jones, deciding if he should answer. A tornado of emotion had him paralyzed. In one instant, he felt angry and wanted to punch the fragile alien. In the next, he regretted what he’d done.
“She said a lot of things about you,” Shane started. Keeping his head gave him at least a minute chance of saving Kelly. That purpose was all he had to live for at the moment and remembering her extinguished his turbulent emotions.
“She said she was here to rescue you. She said the rebels are the enemy,” Jones added with a touch of sarcasm in his otherwise rigid tone. As he straightened his shirt, he didn’t take his eyes off Shane’s. “Have we done anything to earn your distrust?”
“What the hell?”
Shane spun around at the sound of Steve’s voice. His big friend stood in the doorway, his jaw slack and eyes glued to the limp corpse slumping against the ropes that bound it to the chair in the center of the room. Shane was still in shock, but he didn’t want to distract anyone else with his suspicions. Steve had come looking for his quarterback, ready to follow him out of Egypt and to help him save Kelly, Jules, and the other kids trapped on the alien spaceship. The rest of the kids waiting upstairs needed him too.
“I’ll tell you later,” Shane replied, playing it down. “Let’s go.”
He walked out the door without glancing back at Jones or the dead soldier. His forehead felt like it might crack from all the questions. For the moment, he had to conclude the captain was right. Judging by everything the rebels had done so far, he had to have faith in them. Even if they had ill intentions, Shane and the rest of the kids they’d helped would be in a pretty bad place without them.
They might turn on him later, but right then, the rebels offered a chance at saving Kelly. The last thing she said to him also demanded that he return to the hidden base back in the States. She’d asked him to keep an eye on Nat, and he wasn’t about to tempt fate by breaking his promise. He shifted his attention to avoiding all the madness ensuing in the city above, still pissed at Jones but not ready to believe any of what the dead alien had said.
General Athos grew angry after leaving the three human soldiers in the coliseum’s staging chamber. Taken off guard, he stopped in front of the Stilapian wolves, wanting to punch something.
“Are you okay, sir?” Pelros asked.
Athos blinked and looked at his nephew. “Yes, I’m fine.” He turned and headed for the elevator, not allowing Pelros another moment to examine his countenance.
The use of slave soldiers for entertainment in the coliseum had always repulsed him. It was a massive waste of military resources, and he felt even the slaves deserved to die for a real cause, not for the pleasure of the aristocrats. He disapproved, but he was smart enough to keep it to himself. It was a source of agitation for him, but sending his soldiers into the arena had never disturbed him like it did this time.
Humans had been a source of fascination for the Anunnaki for thousands of years, and their creativity and desire for artistic expression was more evolved than those of any species known to his people. Literature, music, architecture, and art found throughout the Empire was directly influenced or borrowed from the humans. Athos remembered numerous stories from his childhood about the heroes of ancient Earth. Characters like Hercules and Achilles resonated with him, inspiring him to become a Shock Troop soldier.
Stepping into the elevator, he forced the thoughts and feelings aside. As fascinating as the humans were, in the end, they were just slave soldiers, designed to fight and die for the Anunnaki. Athos would use them to help the Empire spread and bring order to the universe. It was his duty to the gods and to his people. The geneticists who created humans built in an advanced ability to improvise during battle, to take advantage of whatever resources were available, and defeat the enemy in situations where most soldiers would be immobilized. Popular theory held that creativity was a side effect of this feat of genetic engineering—a beautiful accident.
Athos knew there was no cause for concern—their penchant for creativity would not die because of their subjugation. Slaves with exceptional artistic tendencies would be purchased and placed in environments suitable for their craft. A dozen or so had been identified amongst the humans brought onboard the Pegasus, and he knew several of the aristocrats already demanded they be put up for auction. Athos had to release the slaves from military quarantine before they could be sold, and he couldn’t do that until he understood what went wrong with the harvest. While he did enjoy having the power to prevent the aristocrats from getting what they wanted, he was also anxious to weed the humans without military usefulness from the slave ranks.
They were supposed to be the finest soldiers the Anunnaki had ever produced. As much as he hated wasting good soldiers, the aristocrats had a right to see them tested. He couldn’t afford an underwhelming performance in the coliseum, so he’d chosen the three humans with the highest scores on the martial-ability portions of their preliminary scans. He prayed to the gods that he didn’t lose all three today.
“How do you think they’ll do against the wolves?” Pelros asked once the elevator doors closed and they were alone.
“I don’t know,” Athos answered. Pelros was observant above all else. From an early age, he was able to
tell what others were thinking in frightening detail, usually without them saying much. He’d unwittingly made Athos a much better politician.
“Those wolves have fought slaves from all over the universe and have never been defeated in the arena,” Pelros continued. “Why would Kilnasis use them to test the humans? I don’t see how they stand a chance.”
“Kilnasis knows how to put on a good show,” Athos said, a hint of his frustration slipping into his voice. “The humans are held in high esteem by the citizens, and he wants to put them in their place.”
“He’s hoping to rake it in,” Pelros replied with dismay. “It seems wasteful to put perfectly good warriors to death just for entertainment and profit.”
“Keep such opinions to yourself,” Athos scolded, casting a warning glare at his nephew.
Pelros stared back at him for a moment, and Athos thought he might object.
“Yes, sir,” the lieutenant responded.
“We are soldiers,” the general added. “We serve. We don’t question.”
His nephew nodded, though his furrowed brow showed his annoyance. If any other officer expressed such concerns, it wouldn’t have bothered Athos so much. But Pelros needed to be wary. The dark cloud of his heritage made it crucial for him to be a model citizen-soldier in the aristocrats’ eyes, at least until he made it to the rank of general.
The elevator door opened, and the bright light of the sun reflecting off the stark white floor and railings of the coliseum’s lowest tier blinded the general. He blinked his eyes and turned right, walking toward the section of seating reserved for Shock Troops and naval officers. Chattering spectators filled all of the seats on the fifty rows rising above him.
“It looks like every citizen not on duty is here,” Pelros said, awe in his voice.
“Yes,” Athos replied, speaking just loud enough to be heard over the roar of excited conversation. “Humans hold a special place in our hearts and minds. I’m guessing most of them have wagered the humans will win.”
“Did you?”
“You know I don’t gamble,” Athos replied, glancing over at Pelros.
“General Athos,” Kilnasis called from the left. “Please, sir. Come sit with us.”
“He’s betting on his wolves, that much is certain,” Athos said to Pelros while smiling at Kilnasis.
Athos walked toward the booth reserved for the four heads of the royal families and the few fortunate, or unfortunate, enough to be invited to join them.
“It would be an honor,” Athos replied when he was close enough to be heard without yelling, giving a slight bow.
“Please, bring your nephew,” Kilnasis said. “His sharp wit makes me feel young again.”
The general would’ve preferred to sit with his officers, but one didn’t say no to such an offer. He looked back at Pelros, waving for him to follow while trying to convey with his eyes that he wanted him to keep his mouth shut. Then he put on his best smile and walked into the booth.
Shock Troops stood guard next to the low railing that separated the elites from the rest of the ship’s population. The decorative white fence was knee high and wasn’t designed to keep anyone out. It was a symbol, letting the people know who was really in charge of the vessel. Even the admiral had to sit in the officer’s section. Athos figured Kilnasis only wanted him nearby so he could gloat when his wolves devoured the slaves, earning him a fortune off all those who’d bet against him.
The guard of armed soldiers was a new addition. Since the destruction of the other recruit vessels, Athos had ordered a rotation of soldiers to protect the royal families at all times. The soldier near the entrance came to attention and saluted the general, then opened the gate to allow him access.
“I didn’t expect such a turnout,” Kilnasis said, smiling and gesturing at seats rising above them.
“I believe you did,” Athos replied without emotion.
Kilnasis narrowed his eyes for an instant, and then broke into laughter. “I do enjoy putting on a good show for the citizens. Come now, General. Even you must be excited by this competition. I, for one, am happy that I finally got you to attend the games.”
Fantasizing about facing the aristocrat on the arena floor, Athos kept his face blank and gave a slight bow of his head once more.
“Come,” Kilnasis said after studying Athos and Pelros with a smug smile on his face.
The royal pivoted and led the way to his family’s booth. Two seats adjacent to the railing, as close to the arena as one could get, were empty. They were next to the seat reserved for the head of the family, distinguished by its higher back and the presence of armrests.
During the voyage to Earth, Kilnasis had requested Athos select the slave soldiers for tournaments in the coliseum on more than one occasion, and he was always trying to get Athos to bet on the games. The royal seemed eager for a chance to beat Athos, as if it would somehow prove he was superior to a man who’d spent most of his life on the front lines. The general refused time and again, using the excuse that he wasn’t paid enough to be able to make wagers. If Kilnasis asked for a duel, he’d gladly accept. But he wasn’t going to give the experienced gambler a chance to beat him otherwise.
After Athos and Pelros were seated, Kilnasis stepped behind the podium to address the spectators. He was the master of ceremony in the coliseum, a job suiting his attention-hungry personality all too well.
“Citizens of Anu,” Kilnasis said, pausing until everyone fell quiet.
Athos saw the gleam in the royal’s eyes that was always there when he spoke to the masses. The only thing Kilnasis seemed to love more than watching blood spill on the arena floor was having everyone’s attention on him.
“These are not ordinary games. As you all know, the rest of the fleet has been lost. The growth of the Empire has slowed, and we desperately need reinforcements to fight off our enemies. Many of us feel that we should return home immediately, as one recruit ship is insufficient to harvest the rest of the humans. But General Athos has been testing a new technology that may allow us to continue the harvest.”
Kilnasis paused and looked over at the general. The crowd broke into a roar of muffled conversations, and Athos could see them all looking his way. Just like a royal to make sure he had a scapegoat. If this harvest failed, Athos would bear the full responsibility for it. That was fine with him. He’d gladly die for Anu, and being worried about his reputation wasn’t going to bring his people any closer to defeating their enemies. Athos looked around the coliseum to let the citizens know the aristocrat spoke the truth. He’d take full responsibility for this, and when Athos succeeded, Kilnasis and his lackeys would be kissing his boots.
“We must weigh the risk of his plan with the potential reward,” Kilnasis continued. “Humans were bred to be super soldiers. We anticipate they are the secret weapon that will allow the Empire to reign supreme as it did in years past. It appears that humans have destroyed the rest of the recruit ships, which, one might contend, proves they are the capable warriors we expected them to be.” Kilnasis’ sweeping gaze seemed to connect with everyone in the stadium. “However, we aren’t certain they acted alone. There may be a contingent of rebels or of our enemies hiding on Earth, assisting the humans in their resistance. They took us by surprise, and General Athos is certain that he can recruit the rest of the human population in spite of their presence.”
An outburst of debate erupted. Kilnasis raised his hands to silence the crowd.
“We need to make sure humans are worth the effort and the risk. We have gathered you here today to watch these super soldiers in action and judge their worth. General Athos has chosen three humans to fight, and I am providing my Stilapian wolves as their adversary.”
“No one has ever defeated those monsters,” someone shouted from the seats rising up behind the royals’ podium.
“It is true,” Kilnasis said, the gleam in his eyes glowing brighter. He loved his pets and the fear and awe they inspired. “No
one has ever beaten the wolves. However, I’ll remind you it is not a question of whether the humans are able to defeat the wolves. We are here to assess how well they fight.”
The royal signaled, and the doors opened in the wall of the arena. Two of the massive wolves rushed out. Running next to each other, they circled the arena. Their noses were near the floor, as if they were searching for food. Athos knew that Kilnasis had starved them so they’d be extra vicious in the fight. The third wolf lumbered out, a large male that had a glimmer of intelligence in its beady black eyes the other two lacked.
“He’s using a lone wolf?” Pelros incredulously whispered.
“He wants to make sure our humans don’t survive,” Athos said through his teeth, speaking so only his nephew could hear. “He’ll make a windfall today.”
Anger flashed in Athos. He’d always despised the royals’ lust for the wasteful coliseum games and made it a point to stay away from them unless a personal invite forced him to come. On this day, he had to be there. Athos had picked three humans who scored highest on their combat readiness scans, not thinking Kilnasis would be so determined to see them die. He’d intended to give the best representation of what the humans were capable of. He’d be promoted to prime general if he could convince these people to vote for his plan to continue the harvest, and he’d have the power to clear the blemish on his family’s name caused by his brother. More than that, he’d guarantee Anu was safe. So much was riding on the performance of the three young humans, and now he feared the lone wolf would devour them in seconds.
It would be easy to display the humans’ capabilities without killing them, but that wouldn’t be as good a show and it wouldn’t allow Kilnasis or the other royals to enjoy their favorite sport. The only things keeping Athos in his seat, keeping him from leaping to his feet and tossing Kilnasis into the ring to be devoured by his beloved beasts, were duty and honor. The spectators shouted with excitement and anticipation as the wolves trotted around the arena, searching for the meal they always enjoyed at these events. Athos felt Kilnasis’ eyes on him, and he looked over with as blank an expression as he could conjure. He nodded at the royal. Kilnasis smiled back, a slight smirk on his face revealing how much he enjoyed the moment.