well as he was fond to remember. Yes, that was it. Gailion caught him with his pants down. Literally. Luckily, Ailios was a good climber. He was out of his house through the chimney in no time …
“Guilty!” the crowd screamed.
“Well, I am for that,” Ailios said.
“He must be executed!” shouted Gailion.
Judge Maira slammed her palm on the table. “Would you shut up!”
Gailion closed his mouth, but he was smoldering. Sweat trickled down his jowls like water. Another small victory for Ailios. Maybe she’s starting to like me.
“I am afraid there is no proof of your claims,” said the judge and exhaled. “You destroyed an ancient temple and killed every human being inside. Sentence for such crime is death and a curse so you may forever burn in Ifrin’s rivers.” She looked at Gailion who nodded at her, and then she turned back to Ailios. “Also, your DNA won’t be extracted, as we don’t want failed genetics to blemish our pool of future selection. After your death, your DNA won’t be recycled into a new body. These are your final moments on Talam. Enjoy them.”
This is ridiculous, thought Ailios. They were Cyons, not humans. I saved your lives, you ungrateful idiots! He wanted to scream for all the good it would do.
Judge Maira waved her hand. “Take him away.” The same tall guard that brought him here walked closer and prodded Ailios on his back. They walked behind the dais and climbed a bunch of stony steps all the way up so everyone could see him die. What a show. And as a bonus the crowd cheered happily.
Once he was up, he was forced to kneel before gods and men to show his humility and accept the axe that was about to smite his neck and end his existence.
The judge raised her hand and the crowed silenced. “Any final words, Mr. Ailios?”
Oh, I’m not the accused anymore, am I? “In fact, I have,” he said and looked at the crowd, and then at the three people sitting on the dais, for a long moment.
“Well?” urged the judge.
Ailios smiled. “Make sure Gailion’s wife is taken care of.”
Gailion’s jowls trembled, his hands curled into fists. “I want his head on a platter!” He even spat pieces of food as he said that.
I hope the headsman misses, thought Ailios, and you get a splattered brains on that platter of yours. Ailios put his head on the stone, cold as the death itself, and waited to leave the world. He then felt something warm his cheek. His eyes caught a strange warming light through his eyelids. He could almost feel the skies open for the first time in years. And now the sun mocks me.
Ailios opened his eyes only to squint. “Do you plan to kill me or roast me to death?” But as his vision adapted to the light another shape formed in front of the executioner. It was the tattooed man in uniform. He kneeled beside Ailios while the crowd murmured.
“Congratulations, Mr. Ailios. You just passed your first test.”
“You mean how quickly they can frustrate me?” Ailios asked, his face still pressed against the stone.
“No. How quickly you accepted death.”
“Who said I accepted it?” asked Ailios, but all he got was a thin smile. “What do you want from me?”
“It’s not what I want from you, it’s what I have that you want from me.”
“What? Is this another test? Because now I’m confused,” said Ailios. “I seriously have no idea what you just said.”
“I’m willing to give you back your life and your freedom.”
Ailios narrowed his eyes, part because of the sun, part because of his suspicion. “Because…?”
“…Because I need someone with your skill set. You killed five hundred cybernatically enhanced humans…”
“…So you do believe they were Cyons, don’t you?”
“What they were is a mystery to us, but they were no Cyons, I can promise you that.”
And I can promise you I didn’t kill them, thought Ailios, but now was not the time for trivial matters. “Why didn’t you defend me back there when you knew what these people were?”
The man turned his gaze to the crowd. He said quietly, “Let’s not scare anyone, shall we?”
Ailios gave himself a moment to consider this. “Okay, you give me back my freedom and I do what?”
The man looked back at Ailios. “You find their main base and you take it out, just like you did with the temple.”
“And how do I do that?” asked Ailios, intrigued to some extent.
“We’ve been monitoring your actions closely, Mr. Ailios, we know of your every exploit…”
“Are you talking about the women?”
“I’m talking about the temples you violated, artifacts you have stolen. Should I continue?” Ailios opened his mouth to speak, but the man raised his hand and stopped him. “We are ready to give you full pardon if you cooperate with us. And you can keep your relics.”
“Hmm … so you want me to find the main base of these not-Cyons and not-humans, and you want me to destroy it, is that it?”
“Yes.”
“And I get a full pardon.”
“Exactly.”
Ailios narrowed his eyes again. “Why don’t you do it yourself?”
“Our forces are already stretched thin as it is. We are preparing to defend Talam.”
“Defend it from what? It’s not like the emperor will attack us now after fifty years of peace.”
“The emperor is dead, Mr. Ailios. He was a lazy son of bitch for the last fifty years, it’s true. We expected his son would take over, and we know how blood-thirsty he was. You certainly had no way of knowing inside your cell, but Lucius didn’t become the new emperor. He died in the riots. Our intel says it’s someone else, but even our reports cannot confirm his identity. Mr. Ailios, the Cyons will try to obliterate us. We do not have the time neither the resources to search for this sect of cybernetically enhanced humans. We need someone with skill and cunning and certainly someone who is not afraid of dying to do this task for us. That is where you come in.”
“Oh, I am afraid of dying,” said Ailios, remembering how he almost died the last time he encountered these people, and even now that he was about to lose his head. “Contrary to what may seem, I do treasure my life and I don’t accept my death as easily as you think. Especially not when I know my genes won’t be coming back.”
“I am afraid the alternative is as grim as it gets.” The man tapped the stone where Ailios’s head was firmly laid upon. “You will have full access to military-grade weapons and equipment, and you will have the best ship our fleet has to offer. All you have to do is find their base. You already did that once.”
It was pure damn luck, Ailios thought. But at least he would live another day. “Will I get paid for this?” he asked.
“Don’t push your luck, Mr. Ailios. Our offer is generous enough as it is.”
“Well, then,” Ailios said, “I accept. Can I get untied now?”
The man stood up, and not long after that, Ailios’s binds were down. The guard raised him to his feet.
“Follow me, Mr. Ailios,” said the man and led Ailios down the stairs.
“What are you doing?” Gailion said from below, his eyes wide open. “He is guilty! Where are you taking him?”
The crowd shouted, “Guilty! Death! Guilty!”
“I demand that you execute this criminal!” Gailion screamed as both Ailios and the military man passed him by. “Hey! You can’t do this!”
Ailios turned to Judge Maira. He winked. She smiled.
Then he turned to Gailion. This time Ailios was the one who smiled.
LUCIUS
He never dreamed before, or at least not that he could remember. Now it was all vivid for a fraction of a moment. Lucius was a boy in his dream, without any cybernetics. He looked more like those Bion savages, with organic skin and bones that hurt. His hand hurt, and his butt.
The grass felt so soft under his touch. Lucius wanted to caress it, but the boy in his dream didn’t. He looked up instead. The sun shone brighter than ever, i
ts warmth more palpable than ever. There were no clouds, no ashes, no dust. It was only the sun and it was beautiful.
The sound of laughter echoed in his ears. Laughter from another boy. Lucius turned to see him. His face was round and gentle with a smile worth treasures. The boy was still laughing and pointing at Lucius. Lucius remembered he had fallen from a swing, that’s why his hand hurt. He started laughing all of a sudden. It was funny.
“Oliver,” a woman called. “Oliver, don’t be rude. Help him. Can’t you see he’s hurt?” She spoke in a tongue different than Lucius knew, but somehow he could understand what she said. She rushed to his aid. Her blonde hair wavered in the breeze. The scent of it was unbelievably sweet. It was the smell of flowers, of summer … of roses, a voice in his head said. Lucius didn’t know what roses were, or summer for that matter. He was so used to smelling metal and rust and dirt that this new scent came almost as a shock to his senses.
“I am sorry, mom,” Oliver said. He gave a hand to Lucius and helped him stand up. And then the dream dissolved.
It was strange. What sort of name is Oliver? Lucius wondered. He never heard of such name. But the dream itself was more than strange. Lucius never thought about being a Bion boy, never wanted it either. He despised them, was all he did.
Suddenly his mind went from his dream to reality. He could feel his entire body floating as if suspended in zero-g. He felt weak, slow, vulnerable even. His legs were different. He could feel them, but they were different in a way he could not understand. His heart was pumping energy, but it too was slow, as if not sufficient to keep his cybernetic body function properly. His head hurt, a feeling he had not known before. And then he remembered – he was on Timor when the bomb went off.
Lucius opened his eyes in panic, gasped in surprise that he was still alive. Immediately, blinding light stung his eyes in such pain that he had not thought was possible.
“Easy now,” said a male voice behind the brightness.
“I can’t see.”
“It’s okay. Your eyes need time to adapt. They haven’t been used before.”
“My voice…” Lucius’s hand wanted to move, to touch his throat, but it couldn’t. It was restricted somehow.
“You’ll get used to it,” was the response he got.
The man was right, about the eyes at least – the brightness was slowly receding. An image of an old workshop was hiding behind it, stacked with cybernetic parts beyond its capacity. The man’s metal head moved in front of Lucius’s face, his green robotic eyes scanned him.
“Where am I?” asked Lucius. “Who are you?”
“My name is Modius, Your Highness. I am a doctor.” He then moved aside to show the three people standing behind him. “This is Clodius,” he pointed at a tall man with four cybernetic legs and two sets of arms. “He is our chief engineer.” Clodius bowed. “This is Arrius,” Modius pointed at the man standing next to him – a tall man, nearly as tall as Clodius, but with two legs with reverse joints. He had black synthetic skin over his head and arms. His upper body was clad in metal vest with Imperial fleet insignia and the golden eagle of the empire. On his shoulders he had two golden suns holding his blue cape that reached behind his reverse knees. And he had a long sword attached to his belt. “He is the captain of Battleship Aquila,” Modius added, and Arrius’s blue glowing eyes blinked in admission. He then bowed slightly. Four metal circles shone on top of his bald head. “And this,” said Modius as he moved aside, “is Commander Valeria, second in command.” She was slim and good-looking, her body carved in Venus’s image. Her hair was a tail of thick blue wires that hung to her lower back. Her eyes were blue as well, undoubtedly made for combat. Her entire body was pure Imperial steel coated with decorative elements of silver – a girl of noble birth.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness,” she said and bowed.
“Valeria,” said Lucius, pondering on her name. “Are you by chance a daughter of Admiral Valieran
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