Second Draft: Prologue

Even though it was only spring, Zeus was sweating profusely. The sweat from his forehead began to drip into his eyes and the salt stung. He brought his arm up to his face and dragged his sleeve across his brow to mop up the sweat. He looked briefly at his sleeve. It was damp now with his sweat of course, but also covered with dirt and blood. He wasn’t sure at first if the blood was his or someone else’s, but he touched his forehead with his fingers and felt that he was bleeding. How did that happen? There were so many possible instances, it was difficult to pin point which one had caused the wound.

He turned to the man next to him. “Put out these fires,” he said. “All of them. And if there’s anyone still left in the buildings, shoot them.”

“Yes sir.”

The man turned to leave, but Zeus called out to him. “Wait!” The man stopped obediently. Zeus walked over and spoke a few centimeters from the man’s ear, talking very slow and clearly so as not to be misunderstood. “Anyone with smoke or ashes on their face is to be shot on sight. The same for anyone with gunpowder on their hands. Make sure the men keep the area sealed off so that no one can get out.”

“Yes sir.”

“Okay, go.” The man ran off.

Zeus rolled his head and stretched his muscular neck from side to side. He touched his forehead again. It was still bleeding. And what’s more, the awareness of the wound was now causing it to sting, even though it hadn’t bothered him before.

“The leader,” he growled to the men next to him. “Why haven’t you brought me the leader?”

One of the three men spoke up. “Well our agents are going through the prisoners now sir, but, well, there doesn’t appear to be a definite leader. There seems to have been a large degree of equality among those involved. Of course we’re…”

Zeus cut him off. “Bring me someone. I want someone to make an example of. If you can’t find their leader, than bring me someone but…”the word ‘but’ was spoken loudly. Zeus pointed his index finger in the man’s face and shook it to emphasize every word following, “I want him to be someone credible. Someone who was involved from the beginning. Someone who looks like a leader. Someone strong, good looking, well known and…” Zeus paused briefly, “someone who’s still in relatively good shape. I don’t want anyone who’s already half dead.”

All three men nodded. “Yes sir.”

“Go.” Zeus waved them off with his hand. They went running.

He was feeling a little light headed. He was in excellent shape for his age. He was stronger and faster than most men twenty years younger. But it had been an exhausting day. And that wound in his head…He touched it again. Maybe it was bleeding more than he thought. He looked for a place to sit down.

There weren’t any chairs around. Of course he was standing outside, but he doubted there were any chairs anywhere on the campus. Any chairs that existed would have been smashed up and thrown onto the barricades long ago. And they were probably now burning with the rest of the campus.

To sit on the ground would have been out of the question. One does not inspire authority by sitting on the ground. There were a lot of stones and blocks lying around. Most of them were too close to the burning buildings for his comfort, but he managed to find one a little out of the way. It wasn’t a smooth or flat surface, but he didn’t even notice. As a soldier, he was used to enduring much worse hardships.

He looked around at all the flaming buildings. It was a shame. This had been such a beautiful campus. And it was he and his men who had started the fires. But it had to be done.

The buildings had all been built in the classical style, and so were built out of stone blocks. The insides might burn for a while before his men managed to extinguish the fires, but they would not burn to the ground. And then, when this was all over, they would start rebuilding. They would restore everything just like it was before. No! Better than before! In a couple years, you wouldn’t even be able to tell that anything had happened. Except that there would be a monument to the bravery of him and his men and the forces of law and order. A statue, or a reflecting pool, or…something. Design wasn’t his strong point. He would let others figure it out.

The crackle of fun fire off in the distance reminded him that the fighting was not completely over. He was alone now, having sent all of his men off. But he never even thought to look around him to check his safety. Even though he couldn’t really justify it in rational terms, he had always had a feeling of his own invincibility. He was like one of those heroes in the old stories. Whatever encounter he ventured upon, he would always emerge victorious. In fact he felt so secure that as he sat on the rock, he almost dozed off a couple times.

Eventually he was awakened by the sound of his returning men. And they had one of the students with them. The student’s hands were tied in front of him. He seemed a bit dazed, and every so often one of the men would hit him from behind when he started to slow down. But he was walking on his own power. That was a good sign.

As they came closer, Zeus noticed the prisoner’s face was covered with blood. That was slightly discouraging. Someone with a clean face would have been better. A bloody face might draw sympathy from the crowd. But at this point it would probably be impossible to find someone who wasn’t bloodied.

The thought made Zeus remember his own wound. His face probably looked just as bad. Automatically his fingers moved up to touch the wound again, as if he doubted whether it was still there or not. Touching the tender area just made it sting more. He knew he should leave it alone, but it was not in his nature to just leave things alone. Everything in his life was divided into things he controlled, and things he was trying to control.

As his men and the prisoner came up to him now, Zeus decided he was very pleased with their selection. He didn’t show it of course. It was his philosophy to be very sparing with any praise. But he was satisfied. The prisoner was tall, well built, and looked strong enough that, under different circumstances, he might even have been thought of as intimidating. He didn’t look intimidating now with his hands bound and the dazed bloody look on his face. But one could easily imagine him on the barricades hours earlier, holding a rifle and fighting with the soldiers. He wouldn’t be pitied by the crowd.

Zeus glanced down at the man’s hands just to confirm what he already knew. There was gunfire powder and small burns across the back of the hands. Well, that settles that then. He was guilty. Zeus didn’t need to have any reservations about what he was about to do.

The man’s blond hair was just slightly longer than what was usually considered acceptable. It didn’t quite cover his eyes, but it lay in a mess across his forehead. In spite of the blood, his face had a handsome look to it. He had sharp blue eyes, which stood in contrast to an otherwise soft face.

Actually, in a way the blood made him look more handsome. At least to Zeus. It was as if the blood was some sort of badge of honor that validated the man’s struggle. “But,” Zeus concluded, “That’s probably just the military man in me.”

His men had indeed done well. Zeus was careful never to show pleasure however. He turned his head and spat to the side as a way of looking distracted and uninterested, then turned again to look at the student. “What is his name?” he asked the captain.

“My name is Stephen,” the student broke in.

So, he still had some spirit left. His men had done even better than he thought. Zeus allowed himself to smile. His smile seemed to simultaneously frighten the prisoner and cause his captain to sigh with relief.

“So, you’re one of the leaders, are you Stephen?”

Despite being obviously nervous, Stephen managed to answer, “We have no leaders here. That’s your world. Our world is based on equality.”

“Mmmm hmmm,” Zeus muttered in a distracted way. He had heard this rhetoric before. He dug the toe of his boot into the ground and looked at the dirt he kicked up. Then he looked back up at the prisoner. This was too easy. “Well, then, I should probably tell you that all the other uprisings have been put down. Every single University in Fabulae has been pacified. In fact you were the last hold out. And now that you and your friends have been defeated, the revolution is over.”

Stephen didn’t seem surprised by this. He had probably already known. Even behind the barricades they sometimes got news of the outside world. “The revolution isn’t about physical victory,” Stephen answered without blinking. “It’s about ideas. And we have the truth on our side. Everyone on the side of truth listens to us.”

“What is truth?” Zeus asked. And then, turning to his captain, Zeus suddenly changed his tone of voice to his usual commanding voice, and began barking orders. “Take him to the city center, and have him publicly flogged. After that I don’t care how you kill him, but make sure it takes a long time, and make sure he suffers. If there is any revolt left in the streets, I want it to be extinguished by seeing what happens to this man. No more romantic deaths on the barricades from now on, but long, slow, painful deaths. I want him to cry out for mercy before you let him die.” Zeus locked eyes with his captain. “I know you know what I mean.” The captain simply nodded. He had worked with Zeus before, and knew exactly what was expected of him.

Surprisingly, Stephen’s face still looked serenely peaceful as they dragged him away. Maybe he didn’t fully comprehend what was going to happen to him. He would find out soon enough.

This was the way you dealt with these people. They had been too lenient last time. But now no half measures. Fabulae would thank them in the end.