second man by his appearance. “Soldier!” he shouted. His first reaction was to duck down, to avoid any beam weapons, and then to pull out his pistol. But before he could aim, there was a metal hand that grabbed him by his neck and pulled him inside the shack. Ailios lost his weapon when his hands moved to release the pressure on his neck.
No way, was his only thought when the hand threw him inside. He slammed on a wall. Ailios tried to scramble back on his feet but a Cyon leg pushed him down. All he could do next was raise his hands to show he was unarmed. The Cyon didn’t seem to care. He pulled out something from his back. Ailios had seen so many beam weapons in his life to clearly distinguish one when he saw it again. Now he was staring at a big, mean, energy weapon, same as Friseal’s.
Ailios clenched his eyes shut.
There were shouts coming back and forth. Ailios thought he recognized the spy’s voice as one of the shouters. Then he heard a thud next to him and the ground quivered. Ailios opened an eye just to see Ray’s body trying to recover under a cracked wall. The spy managed to stand up, and then he shouted something again at gunpoint of two Cyon soldiers. They shouted back, weapons leveled with the spy’s head.
And then all shouting stopped.
Ailios could only hear his throbbing heart all the way to his temples. Sweat trickled down his eyes. He blinked the drops away.
Ray grabbed his helmet with both hands. He turned, locker rings clicked. Ailios drew in his breath. Ray’s hands pulled the helmet up, residue air quickly disappeared. He just sentenced himself to death for no apparent reason.
And then he dropped the helmet. Ailios couldn’t believe what he was seeing – Ray was a bloody Cyon.
LUCIUS
The fall certainly broke some of the thief’s limbs but that didn’t stop him to try and get away. He brought himself up on his elbows and knees, and then a kick sent him tumbling on the ground only to end up splashing in a pool of rainwater. He tried to stand up again, but then fell back down as Lucius pressed his foot on the thief’s chest. The thief kicked and tossed his arms, but nothing seemed to help. He then tried to push the foot off his chest. There was not even the slightest chance that his patched up body could cope with the far superior body of an Imperial soldier that Lucius had. Every effort to release himself was futile, though Lucius admired his persistence.
“You have been caught stealing,” Lucius stated calmly. It felt good to finally say those words.
The thief, however, said nothing. He just wriggled and kicked and fought to push the foot away from his chest. Lucius decided he had it enough and gave that same foot to the thief’s face. Metal crunched and a painful yelp followed. What was left of his nose was a hole from which wires could be seen. Few metal teeth dropped into his mouth. The thief spat them. “It’s not stealing, you fool,” he snarled, “it’s survival of the fittest. The old crone doesn’t need a hand as much as I do. She is dead anyway. Let go of me.”
Lucius silently watched the rain as it washed the dirt from the thief’s ugly face. If only it could wash his wrongdoings.
“You should have thought twice before attacking a defenseless woman,” Lucius finally said. “Did you not know that the emperor protects his people?”
The thief tried to laugh. “Since when?” Lucius felt the note of disgust in those words. It made him clench his jaw. “If the emperor protected his people, it would’ve never come to this– ugh–”
Lucius put pressure on the thief’s chest, halting any further comments. “The emperor did not force you to steal. As you know, by the highest Imperial laws, thievery and limb piracy are punishable by death.” Lucius paused for the words to sink in. “Since every executioner is currently off planet I will carry out the sentence. Do you have any final words?” Lucius released the pressure so the man could speak.
The thief wrinkled his facial muscles in disgust, wires twitched in his nose. “I lost my hand two years ago.” He raised his wrist for Lucius to see it. “Why do you think I never replaced it? Because I cannot afford it! Your wretched emperor cares only about his conquest, and not of the well being of his people. I am better off without such an emperor. Carry out your sentence and be done with it.”
Lucius kneeled and moved his hand over the thief’s neck. He squeezed like it was a Bion enemy. The tiny air pipe was located at the right side of his neck. A Firm pressure with a thumb would be enough to damage it. After that, the thief’s agony would soon be over as his weak body didn’t have the air capacity to sustain his brain for much longer. The thief’s red eyes shone brighter for a second as if begging for a breath of air. His pain receptors must’ve been screaming.
It will soon be over, Lucius wanted to say. But then he remembered those same words doctor Axios told him. He remembered the doctor’s dedication to these people and his anger toward the emperor. Maybe he was right; maybe the thief was right – Lucius was the one to blame for not providing enough prosthetics for his people, for not providing everything he never lacked for.
The thief’s voice turned resigned as he said his next words, “I thought the emperor would end the war with the Bions. I thought he would tear down the wall. I hoped he would make us happy.” He wrinkled his face. “But the gods are never merciful.”
Lucius stared at him. He wanted to say something in his defense, to say that the conquest was for the good of his people, that victory in this millennia-old war would make everyone happy.
They do not see it the way I do, he finally realized. They want something else, something more essential. He nodded, thinking, Valeria was right. These people do not approve this war. It made him feel guilty that he didn’t realize that before.
His hand released the neck.
The thief took a deep raspy breath. He then hissed through missing teeth, “What are you waiting for? End it already.”
Lucius had to admit that the urge to sever the man’s head and smash it under his feet was far greater than his regret for what was happening to his planet, the regret of seeing Palatine helplessly teeter at an edge of an abyss. But somehow he could not execute the man. For the first time it felt wrong.
He looked up then. His eyes searched the weeping clouds for an answer – was he wrong to want to forgive the thief? He hoped the gods would provide him that much at least. So he waited, searched for a pattern in the grayness, a movement of some sort to give the simplest of answers. But the clouds remained dull and heavy.
“The gods may not be merciful,” Lucius made a thoughtful nod as he said the words. “But your emperor is.” He stood up. “Get out of my sight.”
The thief was still lying in the pool. His eyes moved from Lucius to the soldiers behind his back. Lucius looked down at him, and that made the thief hurry to get out of the water, first walking backward and then turning to run.
Lucius couldn’t believe what he did as he watched the figure disappear behind a corner. He let a thief run away.
He’s not a thief, but a man trying to survive. Lucius liked to think there was a difference between the two. He saw the slums for the first time in his life. He had no idea what was happening beyond the wall, never even thought about it. Now he did see it and he did think about it. These people – his people – deserved better.
Arrius’s words cut through the emperor’s thoughts then – Lucius, you better come back here.
Lucius lingered over the pool for a moment, his eyes still at the corner where the thief disappeared. He finally turned toward the captain. The tall man stood with a pistol in hand, his blue cape muddy and dripping wet, wrapped around his back. Two of his soldiers stood next to Arrius, their pulse rifles drawn and aimed at three people in Bion suits. The Bions had their weapons aimed as well.
As he approached, Lucius heard shouts coming through the hole in the wall. He remembered then, the old woman.
He strode past Arrius and the Bions outside, and he climbed inside the shack where Helvius and two of his soldiers held two more Bions at gunpoint pressed against the wall.
“How many times do I h
ave to tell you? We are not with the thief,” said one of the savages in Cyon tongue. “We were just passing here.”
Lucius didn’t turn to see what was happening. He walked toward the woman that was curled on the floor, and he kneeled. His hand moved over her shoulder and touched her softly. “The thief has been taken care of. Go to the doctor. It happens he has a free hand lying around.” My hand, he almost said.
The woman opened her eyes. They were small, red eyes, like two nearly extinguished stars.
“What is it?” Lucius asked, ignoring the shouting between his men and the Bions behind.
“I know what you do to thieves,” she said in a shivering voice. “Please, spare my boy. They took him beyond the wall. They force him to steal. He doesn’t want that. All he wants to be is a brave soldier like you are. They never gave him any choice.”
“Who took him?”
Her eyes opened wide. “They took him. Pluto’s Horde. The death bringers in Subura. Atilius is my boy’s name. Please, spare him when you find him.”
Atilius. The name sounded familiar. Lucius recalled the merchant district, the attack on his group. The image of the man with claw-like hands and spidery legs played back before his eyes, the same man that was going to snap Lucius in half unless his soldiers intervened. The gang members called him by his name seconds before he was gunned down.
I
First Assault Page 22
