Cassius frowned. “Listen to me. You must avoid overconfidence. We are superior, but arrogance holds a trap for the unwary.
“Yes, Commander.”
“This is a delicate mission and we must perform at the height of our powers. The preman are soldiers, and they have held us at bay for years. We will not underestimate them, especially with the
“We hear you, sir.”
“At my signal, you will draw your weapons and ruthlessly destroy all thirty guards. Those of you who fail to enter the shuttle in time will die. The premen will surely destroy the station in retaliation for the Supreme Commander’s death and we must be gone by then.”
“Those of us who fail to enter the shuttle deserve to die,” the chief guard said.
“I have longed for this day,” Cassius said. “The clever preman has played his last card against me. Now is the hour of the Highborn as we consolidate our power.”
Cassius clicked the shuttle’s controls. Seconds later, thrusters blasted, slowing the armored spaceship as they began docking procedures.
James Hawthorne floated before the chamber’s viewing port of ballistic glass. It had been a long time since he’d been in space. He felt queasy floating here. It felt as if he was constantly falling. Because of that, his stomach roiled and he was afraid he would vomit.
He wore a silver vacc-suit. The helmet hung behind his head and he’d taken off the magnetically-sealed gloves. The chamber was spacious, a former carbon-scrubbing station. Some time ago, workers had removed the wrecked filters and patched the breached bulkheads. Outside, the view was spectacular. The stars shined brightly and the grim bulk of the
Hawthorne had seen Cassius’s shuttle, at least he had seen its intense exhaust. Now he heard loud clangs from outside and vibrations against the floor.
Hawthorne swallowed in a dry throat, and he flexed his fingers. Had he guessed correctly or was Marten Kluge right? Infighting among humans and Highborn with the cyborgs threatening everyone, it would be suicidal madness. Surely, Cassius couldn’t be
The stars shined so brightly up here. It was beautiful and serene. Hawthorne frowned as he studied the stars. It came to him that he was more than weary of leading Social Unity. The weight of responsibility was crushing. The deaths of so many soldiers that he had ordered into hopeless situations…
The combined Highborn-Human Fleet would soon begin the long journey to Neptune. It would take over eight months to reach the enemy system.
Behind him, the door swished open. Hawthorne turned his head. His eyes widened.
A nine-foot-tall super-soldier filled the entrance. The Highborn wore combat-armor, which was against their agreement. With a clang of magnetized boots, the Highborn walked into the chamber. Behind him, the door swished shut.
“Grand Admiral Cassius, I presume.”
The visor rotated open, and a wide face filled the helmet. The eyes with their oily film and the slash for a mouth, combined with the sharp planes of the face…Hawthorne understood Kluge’s objections better now.
“This is a pleasure,” the Highborn said.
Hawthorne tightened his slack muscles in order to suppress a shudder. The voice was inhumanly deep and rich with authority. This was a soldier born to command. He felt inadequate standing in the Highborn’s presence.
“I am Grand Admiral Cassius. You are James Hawthorne?”
Hawthorne nodded as the feeling of inadequacy grew. The sheer vibrancy of the Highborn awed him, the coiled intensity of the soldier…
“I am glad we can finally meet,” Hawthorne managed to say.
“You have come unarmed?”
“I have,” Hawthorne said.
“Excellent. I knew you were an honorable man. You have fought a good fight, preman. You held us at bay from Eurasia longer than I believed possible. It is the reason we are in this fix.”
“You wanted to speak about Admiral Sulla, I believe.”
Cassius checked a chronometer on his armored wrist. “We have little time, which is a pity. Never fear, Sulla’s days are numbered. He would eliminate you premen, a strategic piece of folly that I cannot allow. As a species, you are too needed in order to work the factories, at least until the cyborgs are destroyed.”
The direction of the conversation…it made Hawthorne sick. He had guessed wrong, it seemed. Marten Kluge had been right. He should have listened to the expert on Highborn. With a gentle shove, the Supreme Commander of Social Unity pushed himself off the ballistic glass toward Cassius.
“You understand what must happen,” Cassius said. “I see the knowledge in your eyes. With you gone, Social Unity will split into factions. In their fear of death and dishonor, the weaker factions will turn to us for help. Using that, I shall easily occupy Eurasia and Africa, completing my conquest of Earth.”
Hawthorne shuddered. The Highborn were killers. It was their genetic heritage.
“Even as you attempt to be brave, you show your fear,” Cassius said. “It is the great preman weakness.”
“What about my security team? You can’t hope to fight past them?”
“Thirty premen against three Highborn?” Cassius asked. “Bah. The odds are stacked in our favor. We cannot lose such an encounter.”
“With the cyborgs ready to destroy us,” Hawthorne said, “killing me is a mistake.”
“The cyborgs are the reason I
“We’re already allied.”
“Loosely,” Cassius said. “I need obedience in order for my genius to flower. You made your greatest strategic error today in coming here. Otherwise, you fought brilliantly.”
“Are you armed?” Hawthorne asked.
“I have my hands,” Cassius said, lifting them. “They will be more than enough to twist your neck. For a preman, you fought better than anyone could have believed. However, I will take pleasure in this. My genetic imperative and greatness relentlessly leads me to the ultimate prize—victory!”
Hawthorne took a deep breath as he drifted near Cassius. The Supreme Commander raised his left arm and pointed his index finger at the Highborn’s face.
“Do not beg, preman, and do not preach to me concerning preman morals. Fight me and go down to death as a soldier should—struggle until the last breath leaves your pathetic frame.”
