Critical Path

Augustus lowered his head. A tear of anger and frustration hung from his eye and dropped to the cobblestone ground. The humiliation was complete. He let out a deep breath. “Take me to the cell. I’ve had enough.”

“Raise your head,” Aimee said.

Augustus groaned. “Don’t you think I’ve had enough degradation for one day? You can have more fun watching me in the arena tomorrow.”

Aimee lifted his chin with two fingers. “I give every citizen of Unity a second chance. You still might have your uses yet.”

“I can’t believe you’re—” Charlie started to say.

Aimee raised her hand, stopping him in his tracks. “You play by my rules. You’ll be under house arrest at your ludus for the foreseeable future until I decide what role you’re to play—if any. In the meantime, one more screw-up, one bad report, anything, and I’ll have you executed. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Augustus said, feeling relief wash over him. “I’m sorry for any misunderstanding.”

“Have the guards escort him to his ludus,” she said to Baliska.

The extraterrestrial oaf released his grip.

Augustus rolled his shoulders and went to cover his face with his hands, but stopped. He didn’t want to show any signs of weakness, now he had another chance. He defiantly gazed around the courtyard. Nobody reacted.

“Take Charlie and Denver to Augustus’ cabin on the third step. That’s their new home. I want a permanent watch on their door,” Aimee said to a guard.

“We don’t need one,” Charlie Jackson said.

“It’s not just for your benefit. I need to know if you run. There’s too much at stake.”

“We don’t run,” the bastard son said.

“Be ready for our meeting tomorrow,” Aimee said. “We’ve a lot to go through.”

The main gate swung open and the Jacksons left with the guard. Jackson senior glanced back at Augustus as he walked away. His time would come.

Taking his cabin just rubbed salt into his wounds. Charlie Jackson sleeping in his bed, eating his supplies. “I’d put two guards outside. You can’t trust them.”

Aimee spun to face him. “I didn’t ask for your opinion. Your new home is the ludus, and you’re lucky I’m even giving you that. Get out of my sight.”

She flounced away like a peacock. Baliska followed without question, transformed from hunter to pathetic lapdog in the space of a day.

Augustus wondered about the meeting tomorrow. He needed to know exactly what the Jacksons and Aimee were planning.

Once he knew, he could act accordingly.

For the moment, he had a house arrest to circumvent.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Gregor scowled at the two croatoan and three human guards who had led him, Layla, Khan and Maria through the town to an open square in front of what he assumed was the head honcho’s residence.

The shackles on his wrist and ankles bit into his skin.

Ignoring the moans of the others, he squinted in the afternoon light and noticed a scuffle outside the large building in front of him.

“What’s going on?” Gregor said to a female human guard by his side.

“Unity business,” she said. “That’s Aimee. She runs the place. I’m sure she’ll be here to deal with you lot shortly.”

“And what’s that mean?” Layla said, shuffling forward until a grizzled-looking croatoan stepped in her way and placed his hand on her shoulder to prevent her from leaving the group.

Gregor thought about trying to escape, but the guards had them surrounded and had taken their weapons.

They’d even taken his concealed combat knife.

No real option now but to just wait for an opportunity. In the meantime, he scanned the community, noting how it seemed to have gone back to medieval times.

Within the twisting and turning run of brick and stone dwellings, he saw blacksmiths, carpenters, and even a seamstress making and adapting clothes for human and alien alike.

Farmers tilled the steps surrounding the place, gathering root as well as more familiar vegetables. They even had their own farm—with actual cows and sheep as opposed to human cattle.

He had to give them at least some credit for coexisting like this and making a new life for themselves away from the croatoans’ influence on the root farms to the south.

Still, the thought of working and living with the aliens in such a collaborative way made his skin crawl. Although not as much as the sight of Augustus.

At first he couldn’t believe it was him.

Up the steps and out the front of the building, he saw him led away by a couple of guards. He was holding his deformed face as if he had been struck.

They caught each other’s gaze. Augustus pointed to Gregor and said something to the other group of people just out of Gregor’s view.

“They’re coming now,” a guard said.

“Who?” Layla asked.

“Aimee. She’ll deal with this situation.”

“What the hell is he doing here?” Gregor asked, lifting both of his arms and pointing his shackled hands toward Augustus.

“He’s a council member,” the woman guard said.

Gregor couldn’t believe it. He must have only been in this place for a few weeks, having been in one of the escape pods, and already he was involved in running the damn place.