Extinction

by West, Kyle

  “It is done,” he said.

  Augustus clasped the hand. Neither man’s gaze shifted from the other; both refused to be the first to look away.

  “Tomorrow afternoon, Black,” Augustus said.

  Carin gave a nod. I could tell he wasn’t satisfied with the way things had gone, but Augustus was right. The Empire was just too powerful for Carin to attack openly. If he tried anything, it would have to be sneakier.

  As Augustus and the Praetorians broke away, we followed them back to the Novan encampment. At the same time, Carin ordered his men back to their Recons.

  I didn’t trust Black to keep his word. It was obvious he resented his more powerful “ally” and that he worried about the aftermath of the battle. Augustus had been surprisingly blunt about how Carin Black would be treated. He had acted less like an ally and more like a bully, but Augustus had to know that Carin would stab him in the back if he got the chance.

  We reentered the gates of Augustus’s camp. At Augustus’s order, the majority of the Praetorians disbanded, leaving only six to guard the Emperor, Maxillo included. We walked the rest of our way through the camp as evening settled into night.

  We stopped outside the Emperor’s large tent. He turned to Maxillo.

  “Have them wait inside for now. I’ll be back shortly. In the meantime, make yourselves comfortable.”

  And with that, the Emperor walked away; Maxillo and another Praetorian peeled off from the original six to stand guard over us. Maxillo gestured toward the tent flap.

  There was nothing left to do but to follow the order and go inside.

  ***

  The Emperor’s tent was a world within a world. Inside its thick, canvas walls, the bustle of the camp had dimmed. However, I could still hear men shouting, hammers tacking, the wheels of carts squealing, horses neighing, and feet stomping. The air inside was thick, scented with some spicy fragrance. Intricate Persian rugs of purple and crimson covered the ground so thickly that none of the grimy tarmac of the runway was visible, or even felt, beneath my boots. Lamps and candles radiated yellow warmth, sending shadows dancing on the canvas walls bedecked with the furs of jaguars, bears, and other exotic creatures. The lavishness of the entry area made this feel less like a tent and more like a palace.

  A richly clad man stood within a curtained partition that led deeper into the tent. I recognized him from Augustus’s palace, back in Nova Roma. He was the butler who had seated us during our first audience with the Emperor. He introduced himself as Zuma, and offered us chilled wine to drink. After we declined, he withdrew to the corner and stood silently.

  Maxillo stood by the tent flap, his demeanor as hard as stone. The other Praetorian must have been guarding outside.

  At last, Augustus returned, startling me as the tent flap whipped opened. I caught a glimpse of a few Praetorians standing outside, armor flashing by the light of torches. The flap fell, shutting out the night.

  Augustus adjusted his steel breastplate. Quickly, Zuma stepped forward, to take off the Emperor’s rich, purple cape. Augustus cleared his throat as the cape was unclasped. The butler hung it by a hook along the far wall.

  As the butler set to work on helping Augustus take off his armor, the Emperor faced us.

  “It’s clear Black is nervous. Why wouldn’t he be, when my whole army is camped outside his walls? When I have a spaceship? I can’t predict what he will do, and that’s what’s bothering me.” Augustus paused, shrugging off the breastplate. Beneath, he wore a white, linen undershirt. “That makes reaching Bunker Six quickly all the more important.”

  “Are you serious about wanting to ally with us?” I asked.

  Augustus gave a small smile. “Never doubt my words, Alex. Many men have, to their peril. What I told you by the wreckage of Gilgamesh remains true. We must work together to ensure the future of humanity. Whoever controls this world, in the end, is a less important question. The important question is how we can save this world.” Augustus gestured with his head outside the tent. “Those barbarians don’t understand that, and they can’t be made to understand that. They only understand blood.”

  None of us responded to Augustus. It had been a long day, and all I could think about was eating and sleeping.

  Seeming to sense this, Augustus turned to Maxillo. “Take them to the First Cohort and see that they’re fed. I want them to see how this army works. After that, show them to an empty tent.”

  Maxillo nodded, holding the tent flap open for us to walk out.

  “We’ll head for the Bunker tomorrow morning,” Augustus said. “It shouldn’t be long, now.”

  We headed out of the tent and into the night.

  Chapter 5

  Maxillo led us outside to a campfire that wasn’t far from Augustus’s tent. Around the fire, several legionaries were eating. A table was set up nearby, upon which food was spread out: roasted pork, corn, rice, bell peppers, sliced onion, and some flat, round bread that folded. I watched the other soldiers, who wrapped the bread around the rest of the food and ate it that way. I followed their example and started to eat what was quite possibly the best thing I’d ever had.

  We were allowed as much as we wanted, so I stuffed myself. It was fully dark now. Most of the legionaries were done eating and were cleaning up what remained of dinner. That left Ashton, Anna, and me sitting around the campfire while Maxillo stood a few feet off, eating his own food. I asked him what it was called. He said fajitas.

  Two of the legionaries stayed behind while the rest went to their tents. They sat on stools across the fire from us. One of the legionaries had a lean face and wide eyes. The other was short, with a thick beard and a wide face. The wide-faced man offered us some cobs of corn he had been roasting on the coals. I accepted, and he tossed it to me. I caught it in the air, bouncing it around to avoid getting burned.

  I quickly unwrapped the corn from its charred husk. It was yellow, almost white, in the firelight. Even though I was already full, I wanted to try it. I took a small bite. The corn juice was hot, and its flavor sweet.

  “Is good?” the tall man asked.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  I’d had corn before, both in Bunker 108 and in Skyhome, but not roasted like this. The man nodded at Ashton and Anna, pointing to the fire. They each got some corn still roasting on the coals.

  “Where are you from, friends?” the tall man asked.

  “You know English?” I said.

  He nodded. “Most of us...can’t. But...many...how do you say? Bosses. We know.”

  “The officers, you mean.”

  The man nodded again. “Yes. Officers. We speak a little.”

  “You are an officer?”

  “Sí,” he answered. “This is my tenth campaña.”

  “Your tenth campaign, then. You have seen a lot of war?”

  The tall man gave a bitter smile. “Yes. Too much war. En el imperio, la guerra es eterna.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means ‘in the Empire, war is eternal.’”

  “Then why don’t you quit?” Anna asked, biting into her corn.

  “You mean, stop?”

  With a smile, the short soldier said something in Spanish to the tall officer. They both chuckled.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked.

  “It’s different here,” the tall man said. “A man must give ten years of his life to the legions. Every imperial must.”

  “Why?”

  “It is ley.”

  “Ley?”

  “I do not know English word for this. It is the order of Augusto.”

  Ashton explained. “It is the law in the Empire for each man to serve ten campaigns in the legion.”

  “That seems like a lot,” I said.

  The tall officer nodded. The shorter man just listened.

  “Yes, it is harsh,” the officer said. “But Augusto protects us. Helps our families. Gives us food and...land...to give for our time here.”

  “You will farm after all this?
”

  “Farm?” the man asked, unfamiliar. “I do not know this word.”

  “You will work on the land?” Anna asked.

  “Ah, yes. My wife and children, they work on the land. We have no land to...name to us. But after esta campaña, I will go home and the boss of the land will give land for me.”

  “That is good,” Anna said.

  “Yes, very good.” The man smiled. “I must only survive one campaign more. It is a hard life. My wife tells me: as long as there are men, there are wars.”

  “Will there ever be peace in the Empire?” Anna asked.

  “La paz?” The man shook his head. “No. We have another...dicho...in our land: Sólo los muertos han visto el final de la guerra.”

  “What does that mean?” Anna asked.

  The officer flashed a rueful smile. “Only the dead have seen the end of war.”

  “That’s a little dark,” Anna said.

  “A little dark, yes. Also, much true.” The man smiled again. “You must forgive me. I am something of...a philosopher. I think. Too much, I think. When you march, you only think. And yes...I know something of war. More than most men know.”

  It grew quiet for a moment before I asked the campaigner another question.

  “Do you ever get to see your family?”

  The man shook his head. “In spring and summer, my life belongs to the Emperor. In fall and winter, my life belongs to my family. Is... same for all men in the legion.”

  “You campaign only in spring and summer?”

  “Yes. Every year is the same.”

  I looked at the Praetorians guarding us, staring into the distance, never breaking their stance.

  “What about for them?” I asked.

  The man laughed. “Los pretorianos? They are not men. They are machines. They do not have families, they do not have women. But they are rich. Yes, very.”

  “What good is being rich if you cannot enjoy it?” Anna asked, finishing her corn.

  The tall officer smiled. “You have much wisdom. But los pretorianos...their promise is twenty years. They train from a young time for...honor. After twenty years, they earn many riches and live like kings. There are few who live for twenty years. Maybe some. Many...many have girlfriends. Secret families. They do not have permission for this.”

  “What happens if they get caught?” I asked.

  The officer laughed. “You ask too much, little americano!”

  He took a swig from his canteen. The way he coughed afterward suggested it didn’t hold water. He held the canteen out to me, but I shook my head.

  “You must have seen many things in all your years on campaign,” Anna said.

  The man’s eyes lightened in remembrance. “Yes. Many things. Most bad.” He looked at the both of us. Ashton looked on silently. “I am Carlos. This man...” He nudged the shorter soldier, whose eyes were closed. He woke with a start. “He is Horacio.”

  We introduced ourselves. Once we had, the man began to tell us his story in his broken English: of far-off jungles southeast of the Empire’s borders, how Augustus wanted to conquer the wild tribes there, but could never break through the trees. He wanted the forests for the medicines he could find inside. He wanted to go south, to the Canal, wherever that was.

  “What is south of the Canal?” I asked.

  “No sé,” the man said. “Nobody knows, but maybe Augusto does. Yes. I think, maybe, he does. Other countries, I would guess. El imperio...we are the biggest and the strongest. Augusto has even mastered the art of building ships, for the water. He could not ride them here. Too many storms.”

  The man talked about the wars he’d fought in – of foreign cities, high mountains, dark forests, and the beautiful women he had met. The food he had eaten. The riches he had won. The deep blue of the Pacific, and the bright blue of the Atlantic. Crystalline white beaches, stained with men’s blood. He talked about a tribe he called los salvajes, who lived in the Yucatan, and how they fought with bows and arrows, and even with such primitive weapons, it had taken two campaigns for Augustus to conquer them.

  “The Empire is big,” Carlos said. “Bigger than even I know. I have seen much of it, but not all.”

  I would have told him of our foray into the Empire, but Maxillo held up a hand, interrupting our conversation.

  “It is time for you to sleep.”

  We bid our farewells to Carlos and his silent friend, Horacio, who had fallen asleep by the light of the fire.

  “It was good to meet you, americanos,” Carlos said.

  We followed Maxillo past several tents. The dirt roads were mostly empty. Most of the legionaries would be exhausted by this time of night, leaving only the watchmen. We passed Augustus’s tent, which was dark. Even the Emperor was asleep.

  Maxillo led us away from the tents, toward the far wall.

  “I am taking you to the latrines, where you can relieve yourselves,” Maxillo said. “After that, I will take you to your tent.”

  We did just that before we regrouped to head back to the center of the Imperial encampment. We passed a couple dozen or so large tents before we came to one that had two purple-caped Praetorians guarding its entrance. They parted upon seeing us approach.

  “I’ll wake you at dawn,” Maxillo said.

  The chief Praetorian left us behind. There was nothing left but to enter the tent. Once inside, I saw in the dimness that three cots had been made up. It was chilly within, and already the heat I had absorbed from the fire had escaped into the surrounding air. Thick wool blankets had been provided for each of us.

  We settled in for the night. I shut my eyes. As the minutes passed, the noise from the camp outside dimmed.

  ***

  I was flying.

  It was night, and below I could see a Recon speeding across a fungal plain. Behind, a swarm of crawlers surged, clipping at the Recon’s tail. Light flashed from the turret. Some of the crawlers were felled, but it wasn’t enough.

  I swooped down from the sky. I realized then that I wasn’t the one flying, but Askal. I was seeing the world through his eyes.

  The mass of crawlers approached the Recon, oblivious to the death from the sky. With a roar, Askal outstretched his legs. I could feel him curl his long claws in preparation to skewer his first victim. With a crash, Askal swept two crawlers from their scuttling legs. They shrieked as they were tossed upward, sailing through the air and landing with thuds on the fungus below. The fungus seemed to absorb their impact, and the crawlers rebounded into the air, landing once more on spindly legs. Both gave themselves shakes before turning around and chasing after the Recon once again.

  Askal roared, swooping around again to attack. This time, he swept several more crawlers away from the Recon, buying Makara and the rest a little more time. The crawlers’ glowing white eyes turned from the Recon, focusing on Askal above. On me. They would be ready next time.

  As Askal looked down at the Recon, I could see where they were headed. There was a walled settlement ahead. Could it be...?

  Oasis.

  The Great Blight, in the short time I had been absent, had extended as far as Oasis. It was near unthinkable. At this rate, it would be at the edge of Los Angeles within weeks.

  More crawlers surrounded the Recon, surfacing from below the Great Blight. As Askal flew closer, Makara swerved wildly in an attempt to break free. The turret swiveled around, facing front and lighting up the night. Several of the crawlers in front of the Recon fell to the fungus. The Recon jerked as it sped over the leg of one of the downed crawlers.

  The Recon had made it halfway to the walls of Oasis. As Askal swooped low once more, the crawlers were ready. They leaped, snapping at his body. A few bites landed on his right hind leg. I felt the pain, searing and hot. Askal shrieked as he beat his wings madly to escape the crawlers’ snapping jowls.

  I cannot fight anymore, he thought.

  But they are going to die.

  There is nothing more I can do, little human.

  The cr
awlers closed in on the Recon from behind, frighteningly close.

  That was when a long line of fiery explosions lit the night, trailing north to south along the edge of the Great Blight. The Recon had just blazed past it, and it surged ahead from the force of the blast. Behind, crawlers shrieked as they were roasted alive. The explosives must have been set up by Oasis as a defensive measure.

  Oasis and Ohlan had just saved the lives of my friends.

  The stream of crawlers edged around the fires, like the flow of a river wrapping around a rock. The Recon had exited the Great Blight and now sped along the desert floor. The gates of the settlement were wide open, ready to receive the vehicle.

  Askal turned from the fireworks below, heading east, deeper into the Great Blight. His wound was deep and painful. I felt blood dripping from it. I felt weakness spread from that limb, permeating the rest of Askal’s body.

  Would he make it?

  Home is not far, Askal said.

  How far?

  Not far.

  As the Great Blight passed below, my vision faded.

  Chapter 6

  When I awoke it was still dark. I checked my watch to find that it was 07:12.

  I wrapped myself deeper in my blanket and closed my eyes. I wasn’t getting up until I had to.

  Anna stirred in the cot next to mine. Ashton snored on the far side of the tent.

  “Anna?”

  “Hmm.”

  “It’s cold.”

  “Really.”

  “Yeah. You probably need to come over here.”

  She lay quiet for a moment, her eyes closed. “Not while the old man is here.”

  “Huh?”

  Aston stirred and sat up, his long white hair and beard unkempt. He smacked his lips a couple times.

  “Where the hell are we?”

  Before we could answer, Ashton seemed to remember.

  “Aw, hell.” He cleared his throat of phlegm, and spat.

  Anna chuckled. “After that, I’m probably not going back to bed.”

  As Anna removed herself from her blankets, I sat up. My clothes were dirty after the sweat and dust of the camp. I smelled of smoke. A layer of grime had accumulated on my tongue.