Tell The Real

A series of raps on the metal door that sealed him in his room awoke Erebus. He hadn't realised that he had fallen asleep, and it took him a moment to return to reality. Instinctively, he reached for the weapon on his belt.
"Erebus, are you in there? They've found him, they've got Cacus!"
Recognising that the voice belonged to Alastor, Erebus rose and unlocked the door. Alastor did not wait to be invited in and began pacing around the room gesticulating frenetically as he spoke. "Some of the boys had a bit of business in Stockwell shifting those transit passes we got hold of last week - we've got a geezer who buys in bulk from us round there, got a little office that he uses, just outside the de-crim' zone - anyway, there's always a big fuck-off queue outside his gaff when ever we drop the passes off 'cos those cunts go fucking nuts over them. When the lads had made the trade, who did they spot in the queue? That's right, fucking Cacus. Silly bastard must not have known we had business round there! He tried to run, but the boys caught him. They've got him now down at one of our safe houses in Vauxhall. Shall I get them to bring him over here?"
"No. Take me to him."
"Should I round up the others? I know Typhon is pretty eager to have a word!"
"No, not yet."


"Open up, you silly cunt, it's Alastor. I've got Strategos Erebus with me."
"Look, say the password or I'll obliterate you where you fucking stand."
"You fucking what? I'll fucking bite out your eyes you insignificant piece of shit, open this fucking door, I gave you a direct fucking order!" Erebus gently pulled Alastor away from the entrance to the safe house.
"Alastor, he is just adhering to protocol. Today's password is 'galatea'." A rapid succession of beeps indicated it was correct and that the Hoplite guarding the entrance to the safe house had entered the unlock code. As they walked through the doorway Alastor stared murderously at the Hoplite but said nothing. Two more rank-and-file members of the militia stood in the middle of the room, flanking a man tied to a chair with a black hood over his head. Alastor's face contorted into further rage and he moved purposefully towards the prisoner. The hand of Erebus across his chest stopped him. Having stopped Alastor's advance, Erebus now moved towards the man on the chair. He bent over until his mouth was next to the man's left ear and whispered:
"Cacus."
"Erebus, is that you?" Cacus's head swivelled towards the source of the hushed voice. Erebus remained motionless. "Erebus, please, what's happening? What's going on? I swear I ain't done nothing, I swear. What's this all about?"
"Where have you been, Cacus? Why have you not reported for duty this week?" Erebus straightened himself as he spoke.
"I just... I mean, I got scared, after the ambush an' that. I'm sorry, I just ran, didn't wanna show my face, felt like a coward. It all just really freaked me out and shit. I started to think about my family, how there'd be no-one to look after my wife and kids, if I was to you know, get killed and that."
"But you do know that The Titans make a promise to all their soldiers that their families will be provided for in the event of their death, don't you? I mean it's one of the most significant aspects of our work - provision for the family."
"Yes, I know Erebus, I know that. Look, I just wanted to get them out of all this, all this violence and killing, all this madness. Maybe see if I could a get a licence to work somewhere, you know maybe get..."
"And live as a fucking slave?" Alastor furiously interjected, "That's what we're fucking fighting for, ya fucking prick! A better life for us all! No working seventy hour weeks, no getting paid only in food rations, no bending over and getting raped by The Administration! And you think you'd be able to get a work licence do you? You've got fuck-all in the way of the training or skills you need to get one! At best you're a fucking deserter, at worst you fucking betrayed us. Either way, I'm gonna splatter your fucking brains all over these fucking walls, then drag what's left of you through the streets so everyone knows what you did."
"No, no, please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to run off. Look, I'll report in tomorrow, you can bust me down to Hoplite, please, please I've got kids, I'll do anything. I didn't betray you, I swear, I don't know what you're talking about, I swear it, I would never, The Titans have done so much for me and my family, I don't even know what you're talking about." Alastor, shaking with incandescent rage, could not bear to look upon the still-hooded figure restrained on the chair and turned away from him.
"Cacus," Erebus's composed voice seethed with menace.
"Y-y-yes, Strategos?"
"There are men at your home. They are Titans. One word from me and they will execute your family. You can save them and yourself. See, Cacus, I know you are lying. I have people that are close to every major militia in this city. They tell me things that may be of interest to me. You betrayed us to The Machae, I know this. What I don't know is why. Tell me, and I will spare the lives of you and your family. Lie to me, and I will destroy all that you hold dear. So now, Syntag Cacus, tell me why you told our enemies where we would be vulnerable, where we could be ambushed. Describe to me how you plotted with them to annihilate us and murder those you once called brothers." A malevolent silence descended on the room. The Hoplite guards eyed each other nervously. Erebus again bent over so his head was level with Cacus. He sighed, before bellowing: "TELL ME, YOU WORTHLESS LITTLE CUNT!" The forcefulness of Erebus's utterance almost knocked Cacus to the floor. He steadied himself, inhaled slowly, and began talking.
"Okay, okay. Please, just don't hurt my family. I'll tell you everything. I didn't mean for all this to happen. I never thought...that it would...I sold us out to The Machae. I did it. I got them killed. Believe me, it fucking haunts me, it's fucking tearing me apart. You have to know that."
"My heart fucking bleeds, now tell me why."
"My kid, my son, my eldest, Ares, he was sick, like really sick. My wife thought he was going to die. I didn't know what to do, I had to take him to hospital." "You did what?! Why did you not come to us? You know we have a number of doctors who support our cause." Erebus was incredulous.
"He was deteriorating fast, I panicked. He was unconscious, he had a terrible fever. We thought he was dying. My wife cannot drive so I took him. I got into the decriminalised zone through the Waterloo checkpoint"
"Our friends there are to be used only with my consent and by prior arrangement! By compromising them you may have blocked one of our few access routes into the decrim' zone."
"Erebus, I'm sorry, if you had seen my son, you would understand. They let me go on but the cameras must have caught my face as I passed through. The police were waiting for me at the hospital. They said I was wanted for armed robbery and unlawful procurement of food supplies. My face had triggered an automatic response. They had my image on file from that carrier we did over a few weeks ago. The pilot had pulled off my helmet when we struggled in the cabin. The internal cameras feed directly to their security system. I didn't think - face recognition software is so bloody accurate these days. Some pig in a suit appeared and they tossed me in the back of a meat wagon. I was going nuts, all I was thinking about was my son. The suit said if I helped them, then they would help my son - I had to say yes. They let me see my boy get treated - anaphalactic shock apparently, bee must've stung him or something the doctor said, he stabilised pretty quickly - and then whisked me off to the nick. The suit made me officially confess to the carrier job. They still had my boy under guard you see, and they told me I'd be going down for at least ten years. Said they'd be sending me to the International Arctic Reform Programme unless I helped 'em out with something. They know as well as you and me that no-one comes back from there. I didn't wanna leave my kids without an old man or my wife without a husband. I know The Titans would take care of 'em, but it's not the same, it's just not. I couldn't do it to them. The filth knew I was a Titan, they wanted me to give them your real name, but I told them I didn't know it. They asked all sorts of questions. I fed 'em little tidbits, just like you'd told us, none of it true, but they weren't really buying it. Then the suit laid it on me, gave me this whole speech about how they were sick of wasting their time and money on policing the militias, how pointless it was since we were all going to destroy ourselves anyway. Told me the sooner we did so the better. Said he had a little plan to 'accelerate the decline' of the militias. He had it all planned out, Erebus. They still had my kid, I had to go along with them. They even promised me a work license, Erebus, and a house within the decrim' zone, or even on one of the colonies if I wanted, things a life in the militias could never get me. I'm tired Erebus, I don't have the stomach for it no more, I'm sick of all the fighting and the hiding, I'm getting old. They dropped me off in Hackney and it wasn't long till one of The Machae found me. They was gonna kill me, they recognised me as a Titan but then I told them I wanted to join 'em. They didn't believe me at first, thought it was a double-cross or something, but I sold 'em a story about how you'd constantly overlooked me for promotion, and that I wasn't having it no more. They bought it and I eventually got taken to see their Strategos."
"Proioxis," muttered Erebus.
"Yeah, that's him. So I told him."
"Told him what?"
"About the Notting Hill raid. But I swear, Erebus, I didn't think they was gonna do what they did, I never meant for all this happen."
"You stupid prick. What did you think they'd do?" Erebus sat with his head in his hands on a filthy bed in the corner of the room, motionless. For what seemed like hours, but in reality was no more than a minute, no one spoke.
"Cacus."
"Yes, Erebus"
"I believe you are telling the truth."
"Oh I am, Strategos, thank you."
"For this reason, you're family will be spared."
"Thank you, Strategos, you are as merciful as you are wise!" Erebus got to his feet and made towards the door, stopping briefly to whisper something into Alastor's ear. As the Strategos left the room, Alastor raised his rifle and aimed it at Cacus's head.

Forever Diehard

"It was him, it has to be."
The darkness obscured the uncomfortable expressions of the others. No-one challenged his assertion.
"How else they could they have known? We were fucking set up, and that cocksucker sold us out! I say we find him and fucking kill him!"
"Calm down, Typhon, we don't know that yet. Let's not jump to any conclusions." Oreus's monotone voice seemed devoid of all emotion.
"Of course it was fucking him, what the fuck's up with you lot? Where was he when they fucking sprung the fuck out of nowhere and shot the shit out of us? Where was he when we had to drag the mangled bodies of our comrades - our fucking friends, our brothers - out of there? Where the fuck is he now? Why hasn't he shown his face for three fucking days? Because he sold us the fuck out and he knows we know, that's fucking why!"
An unnoticed figure entered the room and leaned against the moist brickwork of the arched entrance.
"Oreus is right, Typhon. Chill out. You're gonna have an aneurysm or something. Yes, it's true, it seems increasingy likely that Cacus colluded with The Machae to fuck us over, and needless to say that bitch will get what's coming to him when our paths next cross, but it would be foolish to waste our remaining resources hunting him down. Now is a time to regroup and reevaluate our goals."
"But if we don't deal with him now, what kind of message does that send to the other militias? Every two-bit crew in London will come looking for a piece of us! I say we act now."
Python rose to his feet. His determined and defiant stance indicated he wanted his to be the last word on the matter. Erebus paid no attention to him and moved further into the room.
"No. The way we are perceived by the fucking monkeys that run around killing each other on these streets is of no interest to me. I'm sick of this shit. We fight amongst ourselves while The Administration laughs at us. We're like fucking dogs squabbling in the dirt over the scraps they drop from their opulent table. The Administration are our real enemy, they're the ones we should be going to war with."
Phobus leaned forward on his makeshift chair, bringing himself from the shadow and into the wedge of artificial light that sliced through the room from the window.
"Erebus, you know I agree with you. In the grand scheme of things, looking at the bigger picture, yes, these battles with the other militias are meaningless. But what's the alternative? We have have neither the military capability or the manpower to take on The Administration. How many of us are there now? One hundred? Even if we employed the most effective guerrilla tactics known to man it would be like a bear swatting away a gnat. We must defend what little we have carved out for ourselves. Why risk losing what we have fought so hard for?"
He leaned back into the blackness.
"If we could unite the militias," incredulous scoffs emanated from every corner of the room, "end these futile turf wars, then think how many we would be in number. We would be an army. The people are ready, the economic and social climate is ripe for revolution. You've heard the murmurings, seen the discontent and disgust in the eyes of the man on the street. The militias could be the spark that ignites this city of apathy and conformity into a blaze of violent uprising. You know in your hearts that this is possible. You know we can overthrow the oppressors that have taken so much from us."
Not awaiting a response, Erebus disappeared back into the tunnel he had emerged from. The group listened to his fading footsteps until the even intonation of Oreus broke the silence:
"He's gone fucking mental."