“Better late than never. It’s just a saying. I don’t…”
“Would your execution be better late than never?” He applied more downward pressure. “Why did you modern people make up weak phrases to excuse bad behavior?”
Zoe squeezed her eyes shut and gasped. “I didn’t mean anything by it. You’re hurting me.”
Augustus released his boot and patted her on the shoulder. “History will soon be ours to write. Part of it will be purging these pithy accoutrements that disguise ineptitude.”
“Yes, sir,” Zoe said, although her confused facial expression left Augustus in little doubt that she didn’t have the faintest idea what he was talking about. “What are your orders?”
“I’m going back to the shuttle to check on the status of the scout group. You will receive my orders shortly.”
Zoe nodded, turned, and jogged away, impeded by a slight limp. Painful reminders didn’t last as long or do the same kind of damage as psychological ones, but they were ideal for short-term motivation.
Three of the croatoan shuttle team were monitoring the movements of the hover-bikes. They were supposed to report to him if the scout group were a minute late, and the reason why. They didn’t. Somebody had to pay for not providing Augustus with a situation report. He couldn’t stand for incompetence this close to achieving his master plan.
As much as Augustus disliked field punishment, more would be required. The two crucifixions didn’t have the desired effect of frightening everyone into line. This time, the guilty person or alien would suffer the same fate as Saint Marcus, the Bishop of Arethusa.
Augustus imagined the guilty party being stripped naked. Screaming in agony as they were stabbed all over with pencils and quills, smeared with honey, and hung in a basket for bees and wasps to devour. That would get his message across.
The camp was set up in an old barracks next to the forest. Augustus swept aside the decaying chain-link fence and headed for the crumbling concrete parade square. His shuttles had landed in the center of it. The soldiers occupied the ramshackle single-story buildings and makeshift tents around them. Nobody attempted to breach their defensive ring last night. He personally saw to the planning, now they were in touching distance of the snake’s lair.
Zoe and three other commanders stood in front of their respective troop formation at the far left side of the square. His cavalry of one hundred hover-bikes sat in a single row along the opposite end.
Today would be the day that the tyranny of Unity ended and Augustus would establish a new golden era for Earth. He was well aware that sometimes to create, one must first destroy. He couldn’t get Aimee’s smug face out of his mind. She smashed his mask and humiliated him. Crows would feast on her corpse.
Augustus smiled to himself and headed for the shuttle. The buzz of conversation in the air died down. The army’s anticipation of his orders sent a tingle down his spine.
One last check in the sky confirmed no hover-bikes were in the distance. He trudged up the ramp and entered the side of the shuttle.
A pungent stench of rotten fish and garbage hung in the air. Despite spending centuries with the croatoans, he still hadn’t quite gotten used to it. Not even a scrubbing brush and scented oil could remove it.
Two croatoans and one human peered at a map on the front HD screen.
Augustus bashed the carved globe on the end of his golden baton against the metallic internal wall. “Update me.”
The man’s head snapped around. His panic-stricken face didn’t bode well. “We’ve lost contact, sir.”
“Lost contact?”
“We’ll reverse the recording and show you.”
One of the croatoans thumbed a black control pad. The screen flickered and showed six red dots.
“These are the bikes leaving for Unity forty minutes ago,” the man said, pointing to the map. “They approached from the south in a cluster formation.”
The red dots moved up the map in a tight circle. Seconds later, they split and vanished from the screen.
“Please tell me that’s not what I think it is?” Augustus said.
“They took evasive action and formed into a combat line. We haven’t had a response since.”
Augustus squeezed the baton in his hand in an attempt to remain composed. It had to be Mike, Mai, and their new weapons. Nothing else would take six bikes out in one hit. This only increased the urgency in his mind. Unity couldn’t cover the whole of its perimeter. What he needed was a diversionary attack to draw their strength away from the main thrust.
“Do you want us to keep monitoring, sir?” the man said.
“Why didn’t you report this to me?” Augustus said. “I asked to be informed the moment anything suspicious happened. This is more than that, wouldn’t you say?”
“It could have been a technical glitch. I was just about to come and see you,” the man said. Augustus moved toward him and he raised a hand in front of his face. “It won’t happen again, sir.”
Both croatoans turned to look at Augustus. He didn’t want to show himself losing control in front of his army, but he had the cover of the shuttle.
“Do these two understand English?”
“Yes,” the man said as his hand pathetically trembled. “If you speak slowly.”
Augustus looked between both aliens. “Hold him down and make sure he can’t move.”
They grabbed a shoulder each and dragged the man to the ground. He grunted and attempted to resist, but a human would never beat two croatoans for strength, and his face slammed against the rough charcoal floor.
He turned his head to one side. “Give me another chance. I promise I won’t let you down.”
Another chance might be granted if people were watching. Augustus could show himself to be merciful. Unfortunately for this man, he didn’t have that luxury. “If I excuse you of disciplinary measures, what happens when the army finds out? They’ll see me as weak. I can’t afford that to happen.”
The man squirmed a few inches under the croatoans’ heavy restraint. Augustus knelt by his side, raised his baton, and thrust it down against his head. It connected with a dull crunch.
The man’s arms relaxed.
It was years since he’d done dirty work like this, and the intoxicating feeling was almost as good as a goblet of root wine.
Augustus brought the baton down five more times, delivering repeated heavy blows. Blood spattered against his mask, but there wouldn’t be any need to clean it. It helped with his warrior leader image and would soon be joined by the yellow and red stains of the Unity hybrid mongrels.
“Back to your positions,” Augustus snapped at the aliens. “I need you primed and ready to take off.”
Both released their grip and returned to their seats.
“Dump his body over the forest,” Augustus said. “We’re moving out in ten minutes.”
SACRIFICE WAS the way of the world. Augustus approached his soldiers and knew that some would give their lives today.
He’d made many sacrifices of his own to reach this moment—agreeing to help the croatoans with their integration program, defecting to the scion, who would soon sweep all before them. The biggest of all was positioning himself as leader and walking a tightrope between the two species. His reward, however, was in touching distance.
Zoe glanced up at his mask and took a sharp intake of breath. “Are you okay, sir?”
“Of course I am. I want you to immediately take two thousand troops to the western end of the basin and launch a flanking maneuver. Hold your position just short of the built-up area and draw them out.”
“Where are you attacking from?”
“I’ll lead a general advance directly at the town from the south, once you have their attention. Make sure you stay in radio contact and report any enemy movements. Do you understand?”