Carthago Delenda Est

The room was silent, for over a minute, as the Roman veterans tried to absorb this fantastical information. Ainsley was reminded of nothing so much as a pack of wolves trying to imagine how lapdogs think.

Suddenly, one of the legio

Fludenoc barked, in the Gha way of humor.

“Only some of us, you damned monkey shrimp,” he retorted. “In the begi

“That doesn’t matter,” interjected Gaius. “The new legions are the heart of the plan. They’ll have to be human, of course. There aren’t very many Gha to begin with, and half of them are scattered all over the galaxy. Whereas we-!”

He gri

He nodded at Rusticanus. The first centurion picked up the remote control lying on a nearby table and turned on the television. The huge screen on the far wall suddenly bloomed with color-and sound.

Lots of sound.

Wincing, Rusticanus hastily turned down the volume. In collusion with Gaius, he had already set the right cha

The legio

“This scene is from Beijing,” said Vibulenus. “The small square-the one that looks small, from the camera’s height-is called Tien-an-Men.”

The scene on the television suddenly shifted to another city. “This is Shanghai,” he said.

Another scene. “Guangzhou.”

Another. Another. Another.

“Nanjing. Hangzhou. Chongqing.”

China was on the march. Every one of those great cities was packed with millions of people, marching through its streets and squares, chanting slogans, holding ba

“It’s not just China,” said Rusticanus. His voice, like that of Gaius, was soft.

Another city. More millions, marching, chanting, holding ba

“Bombay.”

Another. “Paris.”

Another. Another. More and more and more.

Sao Paolo. Moscow. Los Angeles. Lagos. Ciudad de Mexico.

On and on and on.

A different scene came on the screen. Not a city, now, but a hillside in farm country. The hillside itself-and everywhere the camera pa

“That is called Cemetery Ridge,” a

Harshly: “Most of you ignorant sods won’t understand why they are calling it that. But you can find out easily enough by reading a short speech which a man named Lincoln gave there not so very long ago. He was a ‘stinking politician,’ of course.”

None of the legio

The historian glanced around the room. Its other occupants, mostly aliens, were equally mesmerized-the Gha, Quartilla, the two Medics and the Pilot.

But only on the faces of the legio

They, like the others, were transfixed by the unforgettable images of sheer, raw, massive human power. But it was not the sight of those millions upon millions of determined people which brought tears to Roman eyes. It was the sudden, final knowledge that the world’s most long-lost exiles had never been forgotten.

One thing was common, in all those scenes. The people varied, in their shape and color and ma

But everywhere-on a hillside in Pe

The eagle standard of the legions.

Gaius rose. Like Rusticanus, he also adopted a theatrical pose, pointing dramatically at the screen.

“There are twelve billion people alive in the world today,” he said. “And all of them, as one, have chosen that standard as the symbol of their new crusade.”

The tribune’s eyes swept the room, finally settling on the scarred face of Clodius Afer.

“Will history record that the first Romans failed the last?” he demanded.

Rusticanus switched off the screen. For a moment, the room was silent. Then, Clodius Afer rose and (theatrically) drained his goblet.

Theatrically, belched.

“I never said I wouldn’t do it,” he a

“Besides, I couldn’t face my ancestors, knowing that all those i

Very dramatic scowl: “The poor sorry bastards.”

XIII

Is this where you died?” asked Ainsley.

For a moment, he thought Gaius hadn’t heard him. Then, with no expression on his face, the former tribune shrugged. “I don’t think so, Robert. I think we pretty much razed that fortress after we took it. I don’t remember, of course, since I was dead when it happened.”

Gaius turned his head, examining the walls and crenellations of the castle they were standing on. “It was much like this one, though. Probably not far from here.” He gestured toward the native notables standing respectfully a few yards away. “You could ask them. I’m sure they remember where it was.”

Ainsley glanced at the short, furry beings. “They wouldn’t remember. It was so long ago. Almost two thousand years, now. That was one of your first campaigns.”

“They’ll know,” stated Gaius firmly. “They’re a very intelligent species, Robert. They have written records going back well before then. And that was the battle that sealed their fate.”

He sca

“You see how well built this is, Robert? These people are not barbarians. They weren’t then, either. It was a bit of a shock to us, at the time, coming up against them. We’d forgotten how tough smart and civilized soldiers can be, even when they’re as small as these folk.”

His face grew bleak. “Two thousand years, Robert. For two thousand years these poor bastards have been frozen solid by the stinking Doges. The ruinous trade relations the Guild forced down their throat have kept them there.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Gaius,” murmured Ainsley.

“I didn’t say it was. I’m not feeling any guilt over the thing, Robert. We were just as much victims as they were. I’m just sorry, that’s all. Sorry for them. Sorry for us.”

Suddenly, he chuckled. “Gods, I’m being gloomy! I’m probably just feeling sorry for myself.” With a grimace: “Dying hurts, Robert. I still have nightmares about it, sometimes.”

Ainsley pointed down the wooded slope below them.

“Look! Isn’t that Clodius Afer?”

Gaius turned and squinted at the tiny figure of the horseman riding up the stone road which led to the castle. After a moment, he chuckled again.

“Yes it is, by the gods. I will be damned. I never thought he’d let the legion fight its first real battle without him there to mother his chicks.”

Ainsley raised his eyes, looking at a greater distance. In the valley far below, the legion was forming its battle lines against the still more distant enemy.