Kyle West - Evolution

We came to an intersection. Four roads entered a square plaza. In the center of the plaza, a step pyramid rose. There were six tiers total, and people could be seen walking up and down the steep steps.

“What the heck is that?” I asked.

“The Temple of Quetzalcoatl. An ancient god that has been appropriated into the Imperial pantheon. The Temple was here long before Nova Roma was. The city just sort of grew up around it.”

My attention was distracted from the Temple when I heard the roar of engines coming from our left. A moment later, two all-terrain trucks surged into the plaza, going right for us.

We rushed to the side of the street before we could be run over. Soldiers bearing guns and spears filled the trucks to the brim. Seeing the clash of technology with what could otherwise be an ancient city was shocking. The truck sped behind us, for the city gates.

“There seems to be something big going on,” I said.

“Augustus is mustering his legions,” Julian said. “They train every morning, and soon, they will depart for the north.”

“The war is starting, then,” Makara said.

“Yes,” Julian said. “They are expected to leave at any time.”

“It is a long way to the Wasteland,” Samuel said.

“Yes. It will take months for them to go that far. They don’t have enough vehicles to carry all their soldiers. But Augustus means to conquer it.”

Julian led us down a side street, where traffic wasn’t as thick. We ducked through several alleyways, avoiding people where we could. Finally, the alley opened up into a large, paved area.

“Central Square,” Julian said.

I knew from the moment I stepped in it that Central Square was the center of Nova Roma. On one side of the square were a series of tiled buildings, supported by pillars. Before the buildings stood a fountain and a large statue of a man on horseback. People milled across the square, mostly in fine robes. A steady stream of people walked toward the buildings. In that nexus of buildings, shirtless workers constructed a massive edifice at the top of a hill. Pillars lined the building’s front.

“The new Senate House,” Julian said. “The Empire has grown, and there are more representatives now. The old one was getting overcrowded. Those buildings are all part of the Grand Forum — which is the main shopping district of Nova Roma.”

“You know much about the Empire,” Samuel said.

Julian shrugged. “I have lived in the Empire for much of my life. My old master had many dealings with important men in Nova Roma, and he would take me with him often.”

“Is this Central Square?”

Julian nodded. “Yes. The slave auctions are held in that corner, over there.”

He pointed to our right, where a street met the far right-hand corner of the Grand Forum. Already, chairs were being set up, and a large stage mounted.

I turned my attention to the very center of Central Square, where a large square tower, about four stories tall, rose. On each of the two sides facing us were large television screens, and I could only assume there were two more on the sides facing away from us. On each of the screens was shown the sport of the Empire — the Gladiatorial Games. A bare-chested man appeared on the screen, beating his chest as his other arm held a gladius. Rocketing onto the screen was another man, wielding spear and shield. The shield slammed into the first man’s chest, sending him sprawling backward into the dirt. People gathered below the screen cheered on, watching the fight unfold with revelry.

I was very surprised to see this place had the capability to televise anything.

Julian answered my unasked question for me. “There are cameras in the Coleseo , and cables run underground from there to here. Augustus wants everyone, especially the poor, to watch the Games.”

“Why especially the poor?”

Julian gave a grim smile. “Because they are the most likely to rebel against him. Augustus is good at keeping them fed. Next on his list is to keep them entertained.”

In the distance to my right, I heard the roar of a crowd. I turned to see it: the Coleseo , its three tiers of arches forming a perfect circle on one side of the Forum.

“Are the fights happening live?” I asked.

“Yes,” Julian said. “There are fights all day most Saturdays, and sometimes during the week if there is a festival. Anyone who can’t afford tickets can watch out here.”

Even if it was grotesque, it was amazing what Augustus had been able to do with his Empire. If we could have something as powerful as the Empire on our side, fighting the xenovirus, then that would be a major win. But we had to talk to Augustus first. Before that, we had to rescue Anna.

“What now?” Samuel asked.

“We wait for the auctions to begin,” Julian said.

We waited in Central Square for about an hour, watching the sun rise and burn away what was left of the misty air. With the loss of cloud came the heat. The televisions blared on, and the crowds grew, both to watch the fights and shop at the many stalls that were being set up. More crowds funneled in and out of the Forum buildings on the south side of the square.

I pointed to a walled enclosure that contained a massive, pillared building.

“What’s that place?”

“The Imperial Palace of Augustus Imperator,” Julian said. “Augustus lived here, first. Like the Temple of Quetzalcoatl, it is said that the city grew up around him.”

“Amazing that it took only thirty years,” Samuel said.

“Augustus is very powerful,” Julian said. “Augustus used that power to put everyone to work, including architects and engineers.”

As the day wore on, we noticed a crowd gathering before the base of a stage where the slave auctions were to be held. We made our way over there, keeping to the back of the crowd. No one noticed us as we stood, even though we were dressed differently from the other spectators. In fact, the proceedings had brought a lot of different kinds of people together. Most of the spectators, however, were the rich people of Nova Roma.

However, one man caught my eye in particular. He was short, fat, and wore rich, purple vestments. A long scar cut across his left cheek. His keen brown eyes did not leave the stage. Rings bejeweled his fat fingers.

“That man’s name is Ruben Barrios. He is a Lanisto,” Julian said. When I looked at Julian questioningly, he answered. “A Lanisto is a master of gladiators. He is probably the richest one in the Nova Roman Empire. It’s hard to tell from his looks, but he was once a gladiator himself, having earned his freedom from the Emperor Augustus during the Solstice Tournament.”

“The Solstice Tournament?”

“It takes place every twenty first of December,” Julian said. “It is an epic tournament where the winner gains his freedom. The losers, if they do not die in the arena, are sacrificed at the Temple of Quetzalcoatl.”

Makara sniffed. “And they think we’re barbarians.”

“The Tournament begins this Tuesday, and is one week long.”

“Looks like they’re starting,” Samuel said.

Julian went quiet as slaves were forced on the stage by the guards. None of them even remotely resembled Anna. For one, all were men, and they wore nothing bur crude loincloths. All were strong, fit, and chained hand and foot.

An auctioneer then took the stage, conducting the proceedings in Spanish in a loud, booming voice. No more slaves lined the stage.

“She isn’t here,” I said.

“More might come,” Julian said. “Just wait. Usually, they auction off the cheaper ones first.”

We watched intently for the next hour, as the sun continued to climb to its peak. Once the last slave had been auctioned off, the auctioneer announced something in Spanish before walking off the stage. The crowd began to disperse.