Lords of Kobol - Prelude: Of Gods and Titans

by Edward T. Yeatts III

day."

  "That would still leave the Cyclops," Zeus said. "And the many legions of soldiers the Caesar has drafted." Aiketer nodded. "Pretending for a moment that the Cyclops can be stopped, what would stop Tiberia from trying to resume the Great Expansion?"

  "Not much," the PM said. "Tyria, Doria, and Ghassan are especially vulnerable."

  "Thoria can take whatever comes," Polemos said. Aiketer nodded.

  Zeus leaned forward and asked, "And if the Cyclops are successful in either overthrowing Tiberia's government or gaining their independence, what is the Pact prepared to do about them?"

  Aiketer narrowed his eyes and looked toward the table, "Our primary hope was that their systems could be infiltrated and some sort of destructive virus inserted." Hermes and Metis lifted their eyebrows.

  Prometheus leaned back in his chair and said, "That doesn't strike you as … wrong?"

  "In what way?"

  Now Prometheus scoffed. "In every way. If the Cyclops truly are individuals, they are sentient. They are intelligent beings."

  Aiketer lifted his hands up, "But they were built in a factory. Designed in a lab." He paused. His face fell once he remembered to whom he was speaking.

  The awkward silence that followed was broken by Zeus. He had been thinking when he lifted his head and said, "I have a solution for you on the Cyclops question that lacks a negative angle."

  The PM still seemed embarrassed and nodded toward him. "Please."

  Zeus leaned onto the arm of his chair and asked, "You serve on the Pact of Nations' Defense Committee, yes?" Aiketer nodded. "Get the Pact and all of its member nations to approve a document granting the Cyclops' independence."

  The PM seemed confused and shook his head. "I don't follow."

  "Pass a resolution that recognizes the basic civil rights of Cyclops to exist and recognizes their freedoms." Some of the Psilons looked at Zeus askance but he continued, "Treat them like sentient beings."

  Aiketer took a deep breath and kept his eyes narrow. "Why?"

  Zeus smiled. "It will tell them that the Pact's member nations are more tolerant than Tiberia. It will tell them that we are welcoming. They would be less likely to attack or invade a signor of such a document."

  Aiketer's eyebrows slowly rose and he nodded, "Go on."

  "It will tell the Caesar where we stand. If the Cyclops have most of the rest of the world as allies and the Cyclops gain their freedom from Tiber, the Caesar will know we have very powerful friends." The PM nodded. "If Tiber is successful in eliminating the Cyclops, their forces would likely be so depleted that they couldn't re-mount their Expansion."

  Aiketer thought for a moment and then asked, "And what if they repel the Cyclops without their forces being so depleted?"

  Zeus shrugged. "Then Tiberia will try to expand again. That's a given already, as you said. The important thing is, with millions of very powerful Cyclops marching toward Tiber right now, the Pact can be on the right side." The prime minister swiveled in his chair to look at an aide who was furiously scribbling on her panel. "There's a chance many Cyclops could survive this. Wouldn't you want to count them among your allies?"

  Aiketer leaned over and whispered to his aides. After several moments, he smiled and said, "Thank you, Mr. Zeus. You have given us something very substantial to work with."

  He nodded and said, "My pleasure."

  The PM slapped the table happily and added, "You'd make a very good politician."

  As he and Dr. Baraz spoke, Hera leaned toward Zeus and whispered, "You'd make a lousy politician."

  Zeus laughed. "I know."

  LXV

  CAESAR

  106 Years Before the End

  On the banks of the Romulus River, east of the city, the commanders of the artillery looked to the trees on the opposite side. The Gargano Forest was an ancient sanctuary, but it was a tactical detriment today.

  "Do it," Magister Sivius said.

  Seconds later, after generals spoke into their radios, explosions rippled behind the tree line. Flames clung to trunks and reached the leaves. Smoke poured into the sky and the vast crackling was only overshadowed by the sounds of breaking wood.

  The trees glowed and ebbed a sickly orange. The winds were kind and kept the smoke away from the assembled army. Flames dotted the forest and kept it alight.

  Just before dawn, the first shot was fired. A commander near a large machine gun emplacement slumped over, dead. The men ducked and looked around.

  "In the forest!" a centurion yelled.

  Sivius and his tribunes raised their telescanners and saw blackened and ashen trees, still glowing red. Some were on fire. In that hot forest moved Cyclops.

  Black-armored centurions came first. Their quiet motors made their advance secretive and their first shots stunning.

  The giant thirty-three caliber machine guns fired first. Two of the black Cyclops went down, taking a dead tree with them. The machines fired back and their bullets hit many men as they crouched behind shields and fortifications. The emperor's guns destroyed several Cyclops in short order, but their massive sound roused something from the forest floor.

  Glowing red and creaking in the heat, thousands of golden Cyclops rose. Smoke poured from them and they took aim as well. A tribune next to Sivius was hit in the head and the magister ducked. "Fire at will!" Grenades were launched, throwing metal and ash into the sky. Tanks nearer the city fired into Gargano and wiped whole machines away in a flash. Every soldier along the river rose and fired their twenty-caliber rifles. The clanging of projectiles against metallic armor became such a clatter that it rivaled the crackling fire.

  The Cyclops responded by sending all of their legions forward. Whatever remained of the forest disappeared in blackened splinters. Hundreds of thousands of machines ran toward the river firing their weapons. The blasts were a single deafening roar.

  "Caesar!" Sivius screamed to be heard. "Caesar! There are too many! We cannot hold the river!"

  The emperor had been watching. He withdrew from the Matrix and looked around his conference room before his eyes settled on an old device. His gray and black cube, complete with puppet attachment. Insurance, he thought.

  Caesar dove back into the datastream and reached his mind toward the Cyclops. He had been thwarted before when trying to dig deeper, but he didn't need to dig too deeply for this. He saw the channels of communication between the many thousands of units. He interrupted.

  "This is Caesar Maxentius the Ninth," he said to them. "Let us negotiate for peace."

  At the river, more than a million Cyclops ceased fire.

  "You may send a group of representatives to meet with me here in the palace. Please, no more than six or seven."

  The humans that remained continued to fire on the machines. They ignored the shots and stepped back from the river to communicate with each other.

  "I will notify Magister Sivius and he will escort you to me." The imperator then opened a line to his commander, "Magister, I've communicated with the Cyclops. They are ceasing fire."

  Sivius was breathing heavily, holding a bandage against the leg of a wounded subtribune. He pressed the button on his chest and said, "Yes, dominus."

  "They are selecting a small group of representatives. You are to escort them to the palace."

  Sivius went quiet. He spoke softly, "My lord, are you certain?"

  "Do not fear for me," he said. "I have a plan." He terminated communications and went to the corner of the room. After he checked cables and pressed buttons, he transferred his mind.

  Some time later, he opened his eyes. He felt weak and restrained but he knew that was to be expected. He heard a commotion in the hallway and thought toward it. He saw the cameras there and Sivius was approaching with six Cyclops.

  Caesar took an apprehensive step forward and found his footing. He gripped the edge of his cape and moved toward the door. Two Praetorians were by the entrance and when it o
pened, four more entered. Magister Sivius was next. He bowed and moved to one side. "The Cyclops delegation, imperator."

  They moved quickly and loudly. Their servos shrieked and scraped into the room. Even one of the quieter black centurions made a commotion. Judging by its misshapen armor plates, it was part of its damage.

  Maxentius stepped closer and looked at them intently. Two black-armored soldiers. Two in golden armor, though their sheen was dulled by scorch marks and pocked with bullet dents. One civilian firefighting unit with its characteristic ceramic body. One construction unit with its bulkier frame. The emperor nodded toward them and they reciprocated the slight gesture.

  "Your trek to Tiber was a difficult one," Caesar said. "I congratulate you on arriving." The machines did not speak. "Tell me, whose idea was it for you to mass and then come here?"

  One of the black centurions looked toward its colleagues and then said, "Praetor Cronus of Alabor."

  The emperor nodded. He already knew the answer; he just wanted to see what the Cyclops would say. And Cronus will pay for that, too.

  "Well, it is obvious that Cyclops are more than just …"

  "We are not Cyclops," a golden unit said.

  "Excuse me?"

  "We are not Cyclops," a centurion repeated.

  The construction unit spoke next, "Cyclops are monsters in your ancient stories."

  "We are not monsters," the other gold soldier said.

  Caesar nodded. "I see. What shall you be called then?"

  The firefighter said, "We have decided to be called Psilons."

  "Psilons? Like the Titans?"

  "Yes," a centurion said.