Evolution

chest. His face carried a neutral expression, and had no distinguishing features. He was neither handsome, nor ugly. It was the eyes, however, that carried his entire personality — forceful, bold, and confident. There were wrinkles on his brow and on the edge of his eyes, the only sign of his age other than the few gray hairs intermixed with the dark brown of his head. He was probably in his late fifties. His skin was dark from exposure to the sun. This wasn’t a man who lay around, doing nothing. He was outside, commanding armies, constructing public works, touring his domain. Augustus was a man of action.

He raised a hand and flashed a toothy smile, and the crowd cheered. Then, he strode toward us, his smile fading somewhat, but still lingering. There was a genuine sparkle in his eyes, and though it had no effect on me, I could see how it would endear him to many people. I had to remind himself that he had killed thousands of people in his quest for power.

He stepped into the circle of Praetorians, pausing in front of us all. He carried no weapon. He had no need to. We just stared at him.

Go, Samuel.

“Congratulations on your well-earned victory,” Augustus said.

Samuel hesitated before answering. Was he going to go straight into what we came here for, or was he going to play along? Any sudden move, any disrespect, might get us killed. But was Samuel thinking along the same lines?

“What is going to happen to my sister?”

“She is on her way to the best hospital in the city. She will have my own doctor care for her.”

There was a questioning look in Samuel’s eyes, but he said nothing more.

“Perhaps you are wondering why I have extended such a kindness to you,” Augustus said.

Yes, I thought. We were wondering just that.

“You came here criminals, and became slaves. Now, how would you feel to be elevated to the rank of Praetorian within my guard?”

The Praetorians around us gave no sign of surprise, other than a slight widening of the eyes. I was shocked, but did my best to hide my astonishment.

“Why are you offering us this?” Samuel asked.

“In all my days, I have not seen anyone fight the way you have,” Augustus said. “I would be a fool to pass up this opportunity.” He held out a hand. “So, what say you?”

We had to play it cool. If Samuel said no…

Samuel reached out, grabbing the Emperor’s hand. “We would like nothing more than that, Princeps.”

Augustus smiled widely, letting go of Samuel’s hand. “Princeps. You address me by the moniker of the Emperors of old.”

Samuel bowed his head. “You are saving my sister, and you have given us our lives when we deserved nothing more than to die. It would be my honor to serve you, and I am sure I speak for the rest.”

What was Samuel doing? Surely, he couldn’t be serious about this. Even Augustus couldn’t be serious about this. When was Samuel going to get to the reason for our coming here?

“That was the finest fight I have seen in all my days,” Augustus said. “Do all Wastelanders fight with such ferocity? Perhaps I should think twice before sending my army there.”

“The Wasteland is a harsh land,” Samuel said. “And it produces an even harsher people.”

Augustus nodded. “Maybe so.” He thrust his hand to the side, toward one of his guards. “Sword.”

Immediately, a sword flashed out of the Praetorian’s scabbard. Augustus grabbed it.

“Kneel, all of you,” he said.

We looked at each other. Kneeling would leave us exposed. But considering how many guards there were around us, it was the only thing left to do.

One by one, we knelt in the dirt. As we did so, the crowd’s cheers escalated. What was going on? Was the Emperor going to execute us himself?

First, he tapped Samuel on either shoulder. “I pronounce you…free.”

He did the same for each of us.

“Rise. I hand you over to Maxillo, Chief Centurion of the Praetorians. He will see to your training.”

Augustus handed the sword back to Maxillo, and began to turn away.

“Emperor,” Samuel said.

Augustus halted, a bit annoyed. It was a breach of protocol. A recently freed slave did not stop the Emperor in his tracks.

Augustus turned, facing Samuel. “Speak, quickly.”

Samuel stared Augustus directly in the eye. “Cornelius Ashton sends his regards.”

Augustus’s face paled as he looked Samuel up and down. Clearly, he had not heard that name in a long, long time. And clearly, he didn’t want to hear that name.

He turned fully around. “Where did you learn that name?”

“My crew and I were sent here by Ashton himself.” Samuel paused. “We found your own crew in Bunker One. Their names were Harland, Drake, and Kris. They attacked us, but we escaped with our lives. They are now all dead. We found the Black Files.”

Augustus eyes widened. “Who are you? Are you from Raider Bluff? Where is Ashton?”

“I will tell you all that, and more. But I need guarantees.”

“You have no guarantees,” Augustus said. “You are surrounded by my Praetorians, and you will tell me what I wish to know, now.”

“Then I hope the knowledge I give you now is enough to dissuade to put down your weapons and point them where it matters — at the monsters in the Great Blight. What we found in the Black Files suggests that there is not much time left, for any of us. We must all come together to fight it, or none of us will be left. That is why we are here. We are messengers.”

“You are saying it can be stopped?”

Samuel nodded. “Dr. Ashton and I are both researchers. We have come up with a plan that we believe will stop the xenovirus. But we can’t do it alone. We will need your help.”

Augustus turned away, nodding slowly. “I sense no lie in your words, Wastelander.” Augustus gestured to Maxillo. “Lead the Wastelanders to my audience chambers. The fights here will continue, but my family and I will retire to the palace.” He looked us up and down. “And clean them up as well.”

Maxillo nodded. Augustus turned back to Samuel. “We will be speaking soon…”

“Samuel.”

Augustus nodded, then turned away from us. He strode out of the arena with a rapid gait, his guards closing in around him.

Maxillo stepped forward. “Set down your weapons, and follow me.”

We did as commanded, and Maxillo turned away, also toward the exit of the stadium. The crowd murmured with confusion. Despite everything bad that had happened, despite what had happened to Makara…

Makara. All we could do was hope that she could be saved. We had thought her dead, in the beginning. Perhaps she would still die. There was nothing we could do, except trust that she was being taken care of. That trust was very hard for me to place.

I shook my head, the tears forcing their way to my eyes again.

“Come on,” Anna said, pushing me lightly on the small of my back. “We’re moving.”

The guards flanked us, making a square box. Inside that box, we were marched out of the Coleseo, where I was so sure we were going to die.

The hardest part had been accomplished. Augustus was now on our side, and we would be able to tell him more inside his palace.

Chapter 18