Critical Path

A man and woman ascended a set of wooden stairs halfway along the room. She slapped his backside. He could be trading intercourse for food or vice versa. They might have just had a drink and decided to rut.

A young woman behind the bar, one of Augustus’ spies, placed a porcelain cup filled with root wine in front of him.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Anytime, darling,” the spy said with a smile before she rushed off to continue serving other patrons.

Most things were free for him in Unity. His payment came in the form of providing entertainment. A steady stream of fighters, usually human strays, but more recently, croatoans from harvesters or farms in a state of confusion after the ship crashed.

Three preinvasion men sat around a table in the corner of the room. Augustus had had them under observation for weeks. Pragmatic survivors, never mixing with croatoans, probably living in Unity for the safety and food it provided. He walked over and placed his cup on the table. “Mind if I join you?”

One of them men, sporting a wiry gray beard, glanced around the tavern. He nodded and shuffled along the bench, creating room for Augustus. “Quite a show at the arena today. Is it true what you said about him?”

Augustus sat down. The two on the other side of the table glared at him. Their weather-beaten faces from working the land, scruffy shirts and unkempt beards gave them a thuggish quality.

“It’s all true,” Augustus said. “But he’s in desperate need of some attitude realignment.”

“He should be given a medal. From what I hear, this could be the end for the croatoans,” Gray-beard said.

“Given half a chance, Jackson would destroy our town. But you’re right about the croatoans. Which is why I’m here.” He lowered his voice. “I have a proposition.”

One of the men sitting opposite, with a scar running along the side of his face, regarded Augustus. “Why should we trust you? We know you’ve been in bed with them. You used to come here in a shuttle.”

Augustus shrugged and sipped his wine. “I protected this place. What do you think would have happened if the croatoan council knew about Unity? I worked from the inside to cut the best deal possible for humanity.”

Gray-beard grunted. “Some deal. I’ve been south and seen the farms. We’re nothing but animals to them.”

“Keep your voice down,” Augustus said. “That bitch has spies everywhere. You’ll end up with a wooden jacket if she hears about our conversation. And the correct phrase is: were nothing but animals. That’s all over now.”

“Bitch? You mean Aimee? She’s okay. There can’t be many other places running like this around the world. As strange as Unity is, it works,” Gray-beard said.

“Without the mother ship, we can reclaim the planet, using Unity as a new base for an empire,” Augustus said. “There’s around seventy thousand croatoans on Earth, probably a lot less after people realized what Jackson did. Millions of humans are still alive on farms or living rough. The problem is coordination. Getting people together to successfully and easily wipe out the aliens.”

Gray-beard lit a root cigarette and took a deep drag. He leaned further in. “You want us to join your rebellion? Why should we risk our lives? We’re in no danger here.”

“Coordination will eventually happen. History teaches us that. When an army sweeps through this town, do you think they’ll show you or your family mercy? You’ll be seen as croatoan collaborators. I’m saying we take the lead. Free our planet. We start by taking out the biggest local problem. Aimee.”

Scar-face signaled to the barwoman to bring over more drinks. He turned to Augustus. “Aimee commands loyalty. The fallout could be messy.”

“Why don’t you do your own dirty work?” Gray-beard said.

“I need to appear clean. After she’s been dispatched, as the most senior person in Unity, I’ll call a parade in the arena to brief the croatoans on our next moves. We’ll arrange a force to massacre them once and for all.”

“Not a chance. It’s way too risky,” Gray-beard said. “You won’t be able to convince them to leave their weapons outside.”

Augustus tried to avoid irritation creeping into his voice. Gone were the days when he could just issue orders, and people would obey. He needed to offer an incentive. “I want to make you three my senators. You’ll hold senior positions and have access to the finest things in our new human-only society. But to get there, I need you to be my prefects first.”

The youngest-looking of the three, staring intensely at Augustus, spoke for the first time. “You talk big, but we’re the ones with the most to lose. I don’t even know what you mean by prefects…”

“Senior officers in my new army. Once in control of Unity, we build a force that will sweep the country. We won’t struggle for volunteers once people realize that momentum is on our side.”

“We’re simple farmers. Why don’t you get your people at the ludus to kill Aimee?”