Chapter Twelve

  The Undiplomatic President

  Ares strode into The Great Hall of the Council War Room. It was filled with people, most of them gathered about the great globe. The majority of them were Senators. Ares could pick out Aetolus and President Aegina among them. Also present was Otrera, surrounded by three of her Royal Guards. Even with so many Atlantians in the great hall, the Klysanthians were easily seen. They towered above everyone like spindly giants. Otrera was standing right before the great globe, staring up at the coloured lights within. In contrast to her black clad guards, she wore a cloak that was made from a thick and shiny red material. It covered her from neck to ankle. As she stood staring up at the globe, she clutched the edges of the cloak together at her neck, as if cold.

  Hephaestus was also in the Council War Room. He was busy with the other Atlantians who monitored the many control consoles that were positioned around the room. The stark appearance of the consoles clashed with the decorative columns and marbled interior of the great hall. When Hephaestus saw Ares enter, he quickly stepped forward to greet him, his expression dour.

  “I have heard the news, Ares. Kel-Cid-An’s death is a great loss. But it was of his own choosing.”

  Ares paused before his friend. Talk of the geneticist’s death made him angry and he replied in haste, his voice raised. “His own choosing or not, it is a waste! A crime!”

  Hephaestus bowed his head.

  Ares looked at Hephaestus in silence and his anger slowly subsided. “Forgive me, Hephaestus. My anger is due to my own lack of speed and guile, and not at your opinion. If I had been more attentive, or even an hour earlier, his life might have yet been spared. Now he is gone, and the Androktones will answer to no one.”

  “They will answer to you,” Hephaestus replied, raising his head once more.

  “You have more confidence than I.”

  “It is well placed. Your handling of the war has been efficient and controlled.”

  “There are others who think differently,” Ares replied, looking toward the Senators gathered in the hall. They were all looking toward him expectantly, some with less favour in their eyes than others.

  Hephaestus allowed himself a brief smile. “You are proficient in judging the mood of your peers. There has been much discontent among those who have waited for your return. Otrera and President Aegina have had crossed words, and Aetolus has voiced his displeasure in the war with his usual vigour.”

  “They all have reasons for their point of view, Hephaestus. But they have not seen the war and its progress as you and I have seen it.”

  “Then maybe now is the time for their eyes to be opened.”

  Ares nodded in acceptance. “Yes, maybe now is the time.” He sighed and moved passed Hephaestus, walking purposefully toward the gathered audience that awaited him.

  For many months now, Ares had worked long and hard on a strategy that had born little fruit at great cost according to many of his opponents in the Senate. But to be fair to even them, the results were intended to be hidden. It had been necessary. If Senators who knew more about wheat harvests and the bartering of spice could see so clearly his intentions, then the Keruh would have done so long ago.

  Ares walked directly toward Aegina, and he was soon swallowed up in the crowd of Senators gathered by the great globe. Many of them heckled him with questions. The questions were the same as always. They were about the progress of the war, the skirmishes on the borders with Persia, his lateness for this briefing, the absence of the Kraken and the Fleet, or the cost of the war in monetary terms and in terms of loss of life. As in the Senate the day before, there was anger and fear in their voices. Ares ignored them, even when he was jostled and pushed, and continued on his path toward President Aegina.

  His route to the President brought him close to Otrera, and as he approached her, her three Royal Guards looked down on him with disdain, his intrusion that morning still not forgotten, but they also moved aside. When Ares drew next to Otrera herself, she turned to face him, bowing her head gracefully, her delicate, long fingered hands allowing the edges of her cloak to part briefly. Revealed underneath was an outfit that resembled the type of clothes worn by an Atlantian soldier. The resemblance was fair, but the style was definitely Klysanthian. She wore a leather tunic that revealed far more than it hid, a white silk skirt that was worn too low but was still infinitely too short, and thigh length boots to complete it all. The boots could have been the most conservative items in her outfit, but with her long legs all they did was emphasis the exquisite shape of her exposed thighs. The whole outfit was completely unsuitable for the occasion and was only saved by the red cloak that enshrouded her. Ares bowed in return, not allowing the tantalisingly brief glimpse of Otrera’s generally exposed body to faze him.

  Ares continued on to Aegina. Aetolus was standing beside her, his delight in Ares’s reception clear on his face. Finally, Ares faced his President and bowed gracefully. Almost instantly, the jeering voices died down and the Senators became still.

  Aegina tipped her head in acknowledgement. “We have waited for you, Ares,” she said softly but with a hint of irritation. “Your absence at this time is confusing. I would have thought that you would be eager for this moment. For what reason have we been made to wait?”

  Aetolus was quick to add his prompting. “Yes, tell us what kept the God of War from his most urgent appointment?”

  Several other voices were raised in discontent at his late arrival. Ares ignored them as before. He also ignored Aetolus and spoke directly to Aegina.

  “Pardon me, President. I was at Ephesus to give the Androktones their final instructions. My lateness is due to the death of Kel-Cid-An.”

  Aegina’s reply was both chastising and dismissive. “That Kel-Cid-An should take his own life is not unexpected. That you should be late is unexpected and unwarranted.”

  Ares was surprised by her bluntness while Aetolus glowed at the verbal punishment. Other Senators also murmured in surprise, although many more did so in agreement. But in contrast to before, there was now a much more subdued atmosphere in the great hall. It was left to Otrera to voice any defence for Ares. She spoke haughtily, her tinkling voice raised above the murmuring voices of the Senators.

  “I find it callous that the President of Atlantis should be so indifferent to the passing of an ancient and powerful race.”

  The murmuring voices stopped.

  Aegina hardly glanced at Otrera. “My concern is for my own race, and for the millions of people who live on my world. They are ignorant of the doom that may overtake them. We are their only protection and Ares is their only saviour. His thoughts should be for them, and not for the colleague whose work is now done.”

  Otrera dropped any pretence at diplomacy. “If my concern had been merely for my own race, my world would still be free while you and your millions would already be dead.”

  “It is a lesson I have learned well,” Aegina replied pointedly.

  The unpleasant silence grew intolerably long as Aegina avoided looking at Otrera, and the Klysanthian stared down at the very un-diplomatic President. Otrera broke the mood by sweeping her cloak about her and striding from the great hall, her Royal Guards hurrying after her. They scattered the shocked Senators as they left, the sound of their heels on the marble floor fading long after they had disappeared from view.

  The Senators now looked at one another in bewilderment, their voices filled with confusion and dismay. It seemed to have no effect on Aegina. With the Klysanthians gone, she turned once more to Ares. “What are the positions of the fleets?”

  Ares stared at his President angrily, and his answer reflected that anger. “Do you speak of our fleet or the fleets belonging to the Klysanthians whose blood we still need to be spilled in our favour?”

  His reply caused another hush in the great hall and even Aetolus looked on in surprise.

  Aegina raised her head and looked Ares squarely in the eyes. “You think I wa
s wrong to chastise Queen Otrera?”

  “I think you were both wrong and selfish. Your insult was based on personal dislike, and not on the predicament we face. It was harsh and thoughtless.”

  His strong words caused more than one Senator to gasp. But Aegina was unrepentant.

  “And is your attitude to Otrera totally unbiased?” she countered.

  “No,” Ares admitted. “But I would never let that interfere with my judgement, or with my control of the war. There is too much at stake.”

  His final words were gravely spoken and Aegina had no answer. They stared at one another, surrounded in silence. They were servant and master, but in the end, it was the master that gave way.

  Aegina bowed her head. “Then I am condemned by my ineptitude. I am guilty of being a simple woman. I am the President of Atlantis with the lives of millions on my conscience, but I am a woman none-the-less. It is little surprise then that I should allow the unbearable beauty and height of these visitors to our world to disrupt my thinking. But I find their very presence undermines my position, they undermine the position of every woman in Atlantis. I find them as distasteful as the men of Atlantis find them attractive. I will only be content when they leave Metropolis for a distant land.”

  Aegina had briefly dropped the mantle of her Presidency. She had spoken honestly and with dignity, and like all those gathered in the great hall, Ares knew well the feelings that she described.

  The Klysanthians alien beauty and low morals had been the cause of a growing tide of discontent among the female population in Atlantis. And at the heart of it was an increasing number of broken promises between erstwhile loved ones. The damage to these relationships was often permanent, and some had even come to blows. The Klysanthians had distanced themselves from such arguments, even when personally attacked. They just faded away and smiled invitingly at another.

  Otrera herself had been dismissive.

  “It is our way. What we offer, you are not forced to take.”

  But who could refuse such an offer? To refrain required the strongest of wills or the deepest love. Not many were blessed with either of these commodities.

  Ares bowed his head. “Forgive me, President. I forget my place and your humanity. The discord here is caused by the Klysanthians themselves, I admit. But their lack of self-control in love is balanced more than equally by their commitment and loyalty to their allies in war. Many of them have already died in brutal battles for which they are sadly unequipped. But they have never shied from such battles. Now their world is lost to them, and their remaining population is almost insignificant. But still they fight, committing forces and numbers they can ill afford to lose. Yes, they are unbearably beautiful, their height gives me a stiff neck whenever I have to deal with them, they wear elevated heels that make it worse, their clothes are flimsy, they have the attitude of goddesses, the restraint of a spoiled child, and they walk on water. They are intolerable. But we need them. To insult Otrera so blatantly was unforgivable.”

  Aegina closed her eyes, her thoughts her own. When she opened them again they were filled with sadness.

  “Was my insult and resentment that clear?”

  She had looked toward Ares for an answer, but it was Aetolus who spoke. And his words and tone surprised Ares.

  “It was, President. As Ares has said, many of the Klysanthians have died for our cause. And even though I oppose this war, even I admit their commitment has been complete and unyielding. Ares spoke well, and you would be wise to heed his words.”

  Aegina nodded. “Then I must go and apologise.”

  Aetolus placed his hand on her arm. “I am Leader of the Senate. I will go to Queen Otrera and convey your apologies. I will return with her shortly.”

  “Thank you, Aetolus. You are most kind. Tell Otrera that I will personally apologise when she returns to the great hall.”

  Aetolus bowed and walked out of the great hall. Ares watched him leave, his attitude to his greatest critic subtly changed. He had always been convinced that Aetolus had opposed the war merely because of personal resentment. Aetolus had worked hard and long to become Leader of the Senate. It was common knowledge that becoming Leader of the Senate was a precursor to the appointment of the Presidency. Aegina herself had been the Leader of the Senate prior to her appointment. But since Ares had been made God of War, his stature in the Senate had grown considerably. It was now also common knowledge that if Aetolus did not become the next President of Atlantis when Aegina stood down, Ares most surely would. It was a situation that had pleased Ares far more for the resentment it caused in Aetolus than for his own ambition to become President. That Aetolus would speak in his favour was both a surprise and a revelation. From that moment on, Ares was convinced that Aetolus was the only true and rightful choice for the next President.

  Aegina broke into his thoughts.

  “Ares, while we wait for Otrera to return, reprise the progress of the war. We have wasted too much time already.”

  Ares nodded. With a quick glance to the waiting Senators, he moved before the great globe.

  “Hephaestus,” he called out. “Light the points as I speak.”

  Hephaestus raised his hand in acknowledgement and then waved his technicians to their consoles.

  The great globe already contained a three-dimensional view of the Edenite star system. Inside could be seen many dots that identified fleets and individual ships in movement. But until now, there were no colours identifying their allegiance.

  Ares pointed up at the great globe. “The battle begins,” he began. “The Keruh have split their fleet into two. The larger part faces Memnon in open space. While nearer to Eden, the smaller part faces the Klysanthians.”

  In the globe above and behind him, the tiny dots that made up the mighty fleets glowed into colourful life as he spoke. The colours gave away the true picture, and there were gasps at the size of the Keruh fleet.

  “As you can see,” Ares continued. “The Keruh fleet is vast. All four Hives have combined their forces in the same star system for the first time. Their reasons for this are due to nothing less than hunger.” He turned to Hephaestus. “Give me the galactic map!”

  The great globe swirled as the Edenite star system rapidly shrank and disappeared. The view continued to contract and move away at great speed until the entire spiral form of the galaxy was revealed. The view now stopped and more coloured lights appeared revealing the occupied territories of each opposing side. Also identified were the so far unaffected or neutral areas. There was a pattern to the coloured lights, a pattern hidden in three dimensions across vast distances, but it was a pattern Ares knew well.

  “The success of the Androktones over the Keruh in land battles has drastically reduced the number of harvest worlds in their possession. Slowly but surely, their lines of supply have been cut. Now they are forced to seek out more food on distant worlds.”

  One of the Senators spoke up. “Is this form of attack wise?” she asked. “The reports we have seen indicate that each world that is freed from their control they then attack with their fleets, reducing them to ashes.”

  Ares held up his fist. “Exactly! We have concentrated on each world in turn, wiping out the Keruh on the surface and escaping through the portals even as the Keruh fleets arrive and begin their bombardment. It leaves the affected planets barren, or at worse, destroyed.”

  Another Senator asked a question. “Would we not have been more wise to use the Androktones to protect our home worlds?”

  Other voices were quickly raised in support of the question, and the debate grew heated.

  “Yes! This approach is madness!”

  “Recall the fleet!” another shouted. “Protect Atlantis, not some distant world we care nothing for!”

  “Lokana and Klysanthia fell while you fought over lesser worlds!” a third Senator accused Ares, pointing his finger at him. “And like those lesser worlds they are now barren! Destroyed, you said! Is this the fut
ure for Atlantis?”

  Ares was forced to raise his voice to be heard.

  “The loss of Klysanthia was unfortunate!” he shouted. “But I have followed this strategy ever since the Androktones became available! I am convinced of its success!”

  “But Klysanthia fell! We will be next!”

  One of the angry Senators turned to their President. “Aegina! Command the Kraken to return! Order Memnon to bring the fleet home!”

  Aegina was staring up at the lights in the globe. She didn’t answer. She didn’t answer because she was beginning to understand. She was beginning to see the pattern. As the rowdy Senators jostled around her, she spoke clearly above their voices.

  “You have laid siege to them from afar. And now you offer them a carrot.”

  The great hall fell silent as the Senators began to take in her remarks.

  Ares smiled. He was able to speak more calmly again in the silence. “It is a carrot placed a long way from their home world, but it is a carrot they can ill refuse. Their Hives will soon be facing starvation, and if they cannot find another ripe harvest world the alliances between the four Hives will begin to crack. Once they begin to attack one another, their ability to fight this war will be over.”

  “Is this what you wait for?” Aegina asked.

  “No. My strategy is far more pro-active, but its final objective is shielded by this more obvious result.”

  “Then explain.”

  Ares glanced briefly at Hephaestus before he bowed gracefully to the President.

  “As you command, President.”

  Straightening up again, Ares began to address the gathered Senators as if lecturing to an audience in the amphitheatre.

  “We all know that the success of the Keruh in this war has been due in part to their power in space. On land they were invincible. But the creation of the Androktones has now ended that dominance. Only in space do they still hold sway. Until now it has been impossible to engage their entire fleet in a full-scale battle. The fleets belonging to each of the four Hives have been spread throughout their shared territories, each preoccupied with protecting and securing their harvest worlds. The benefits of attacking them individually have always been doubtful. We may have lost too many ships, or left ourselves exposed elsewhere, a situation not lost on many of you gathered here today, and the subject of many debates in the Senate. So I have been content with minor skirmishes and hit and run missions. We have only attacked their ships in smaller numbers and at strategic points. Some of the engagements have been large, but none have been as large as what will take place at Eden.

  “With their harvest worlds dwindling, and the attacks of the Androktones growing more effective, the Keruh need to harvest another world quickly. Finding one that is suitable we have made both difficult and easy for them. Eden is a young and isolated world, rich in life but with little significance or strategic value. Even its population is small. Before the arrival of the Tun-Sho-Lok, the Edenites lived in a feudal society scattered over the southern peninsula of one continent. They still live in this area, but now in four major centres of population. Kalahar and Nemen in the east, Jutlam City in the south and Elengrad in the centre. There are other smaller cities to the north and west, but beyond, nothing. They are the only sentient species on the planet, and the remainder of their world is nought but a natural garden where animals graze in peace.

  “Eden has few allies and little presence on the galactic stage. But its physical isolation is what makes Eden perfect. There are no powerful worlds nearby to provide defence, and its fall would worry few of those still unaffected by the war. But to harvest Eden effectively, the Keruh must first ensure that the Host is free from attack.

  “The Keruh may be primitive and their society cruel and harsh, but they are far from simple minded. They are also wise to the obvious outcome of our strategy; they know that starvation will lead them into civil war. But they also know that as soon as the Host lands on Eden the Androktones will follow. They have responded in the only way they could. They will surround Eden with their fleets; they will bombard the surface heavily as soon as the Androktones land. They have to do this, it is the only way they can protect the Host. All four Hives need Eden. All four Hives are present there. Their entire fleet gathers there. To protect the Host, to harvest Eden effectively, they have to restrict the attacks of the Androktones. And the only way they can do that is by heavy bombardment from space. The Androktones have the advantage on the ground, but the Keruh have the advantage in space. If all goes well, Memnon will take that advantage from them this day.”

  As Ares had finished, he noticed the heads of the Senators turn. He looked as they looked. Otrera and her Royal Guards had returned to the great hall with Aetolus. Ares watched her walk toward Aegina, her expression haughty and filled with disdain. Everything about her demeanour, her expression, the way she walked with her head held high, it all made her intentions very clear. Ares quickly made up his mind. If Otrera was going to punish Aegina for her remarks, he wouldn’t keep silent. As Otrera came to stand before the President, Ares stepped forward.

  “Otrera. Now is not the time to let vanity rule your mind.”

  Otrera looked at Ares, anger in her eyes and harsh words on her lips. But before she could reply, she was stopped by Aegina, who quickly moved closer to her and took her tiny hands in hers. Otrera was surprised by the warmth and strength of her grip, and she looked down at the sincere expression on Aegina’s face. Aegina had to crane her neck to look back up at Otrera, but her voice never wavered or hesitated.

  “Ares is right, Queen Otrera. I spoke badly to you earlier, and I apologise. My resentment is due to the differences in our two races, and not in your attitude to the war or your loyalty to the Tun-Sho-Lok. Like them, you have been a strong and constant ally to the people of Atlantis, and my words were unacceptable. The loss of the Tun-Sho-Lok is a tragedy. Forgive me for my insensitivity.”

  All the anger left Otrera, and to the surprise of everyone present, she suddenly dropped down onto her knees. Now Aegina looked down on her and it was Otrera’s turn to look up.

  “President Aegina, Senators of Atlantis. I am your guest. My people and I have come here to seek your support and the sanctuary of your world. That there are differences in our physique and in our societies is not unexpected. But we are both wise and civilised. I will command my sisters to curb their appetites. In return I beg only for greater understanding. I have no wish to cause strife among your people. In honesty, if you cast us out, there is no other place that we can go.”

  Aegina embraced Otrera, both women becoming tearful, and the Senators gathered around and clapped in their support.

  Ares watched in relief as Otrera climbed back to her feet. It had been a worrying moment, but both women had seized the opportunity to increase their standing and make amends.

  The brief interlude of joy didn’t last. One of the other Senators had quickly explained Ares plan to Aetolus, and now the Leader of the Senate came to stand before him.

  “You will risk our entire fleet in this one battle?” he asked in a loud voice.

  Ares nodded. “It is the goal I have sought with my strategy. Now we have their fleet massed together in one place we have the chance to eliminate them as a fighting force. It is a chance we cannot afford to let slip by.”

  “And this is the final object of your strategy?”

  “Part of it only, but an essential part of it.”

  Before Aetolus could question him further, Ares turned and called out to Hephaestus. “Hephaestus! Light up the carrot!”

  As before, the great globe swirled with movement. This time the stars rushed toward them as the galaxy expanded and the image focussed on a distant dot. The dot swept forward, became a star system and then a planet with continents and oceans surrounded with swirling clouds. Abruptly, the movement ceased, and Eden filled the great globe. It looked serene and calm. But there was a blemish. On the southern peninsular of one of the
continents was a dark, round spot.

  Hephaestus came to stand beside Ares and handed him a light stick. Ares took the light stick and pointed at the dark, round spot on the surface of Eden. He spoke in a raised voice, lecturing to the gathered Senators once more. He did it to command their attention, but also to prevent Aetolus from thinking about heckling him.

  “This is the Keruh Host. They have been pouring through their portal at Elengrad for several hours now. It is the perfect point of entry, in the centre of the populated area. Their intention is to strip the planet as quickly as they can before we can land a force to oppose them. In a few more hours the entire Keruh Host will be on Eden. It is the time and the moment we have waited for. Spread out on the ground, the Host will be exposed and vulnerable. The Keruh know this, they expect an attack. We will not disappoint them.”

  Ares pointed his light stick at Elengrad in the centre of the dark spot.

  “Once the battle in space begins, we will jam the Keruh portal at Elengrad and reopen the Edenite RNP at Jutlam City.”

  The light stick now pointed to a tiny irregular shape to the south.

  “Here a force of the Androktones will enter, a large force, large enough for the Keruh to believe that the Host is at risk. The Keruh know that if they lose the Host on Eden, then they lose everything. They cannot afford to let this happen. With their portal offline, and the Androktones in attack, it will be the scenario that the Keruh fear most. Their ships must give support to the Host; they must break through our forces, they cannot shy away from the battle. To lose is to lose everything. The battle will be fierce, the losses on both sides heavy, but that is to our advantage. By the time the Keruh realise that the Androktones in attack are too few to overcome the Host, it will be too late. Their fleets will be smashed and their dominance in space broken.”

  Ares lowered his light stick and turned to face Aetolus, speaking directly to him.

  “As I said before, Eden is the perfect carrot. But its isolated position takes the Keruh fleets far away from their home world. Even if some of their ships survive, they will be too far away to make a difference.”

  There was sudden silence when Ares finished; even Aetolus just stared back at him as if uncomprehending. It was left to Aegina to state the idea that was now forming in everyone’s minds. She moved away from Otrera and spoke up clearly.

  “You will send the majority of the Androktones to attack the Keruh home world.”

  Ares nodded.

  Aetolus now turned a worried face to Aegina and there were subdued murmurs among the Senators. But no one raised their voice in dissent, not even Aetolus himself as he waited for her final judgement.

  Aegina sighed, the weight of the moment upon her. She could stop it now if she wished. She could halt what was to happen and turn their path another way. A weaker person would have done so. The President of Atlantis did not.

  “Proceed with your plan, Ares. You have my blessing and the approval of the Senate. We all pray that the gods are with you, with Memnon, and all who fight for our cause this day.”

  Ares bowed. “I thank you for your wisdom and your approval.”

  When Ares straightened up, it was to find Aegina staring at him with far less than approval in her eyes.

  “Be warned, Ares. What you envisage this day may bring victory over the Keruh, but it could also bring destruction to us all. If their fleet is not destroyed, if their control of the Ring is not broken, then their wrath will be turned on Atlantis. We will have no ships to guard our skies, no Androktones to fight our battles. Like the Keruh home world you intend to attack, Atlantis will be exposed and vulnerable.”

  There were murmurs of agreement from the other Senators, and Ares could sense their rising fear. Aetolus sensed it too, and he seized his moment.

  “If just one of the Keruh ships survives and seeks us out, all could be lost! How will the victory feel then when our city burns and our people lay dead?”

  The other Senators jeered in support, the fear now clear in their voices and their expressions. Aetolus stirred them some more.

  “We should make every effort to protect Atlantis! We should recall some of our ships now!”

  Ares became alarmed. “That would weaken our fleet!”

  “Atlantis is important!”

  Aegina suddenly said, “Atlantis is not important.”

  Aetolus and the other Senators looked at her aghast, and Aetolus said in awe, “You would dismiss our world, our civilization, our home, with such ease?”

  “Our nation is not Atlantis. We are Atlantis. And wheresoever we dwell, that place is Atlantis. My decision is made. Order the evacuation of Metropolis. Pass the word to the people: Atlantis is to be abandoned and the portal to the outside world closed. If the Keruh should come here with vengeance in their hearts, it will only be our architecture that will feel their wrath.”

  “But they will destroy everything!” a Senator cried in dismay.

  “There is nothing to destroy but stone,” was the calm reply.

  Aetolus was more insistent. “They will search us out!” he said, clenching his raised fist.

  “And what will they find on our world?” Aegina said to him. “A disparate group of nations vying for supremacy with swords and shields. There is no technology beyond these shores. The Keruh will find nothing except the obvious, that we have fled our world. No, Aetolus, our security lies in the simplicity of our world. What we will lose we can afford to do without. What we have learned we will take with us. The debate is over, Aetolus; I will not be swayed from this. Contact our allies in the east, at Troy and Ephesus. Pass the word, begin the evacuation.”

  There was a lengthy pause as Aetolus and Aegina stared into one another’s eyes. Finally, Aetolus closed his eyes and bowed gracefully before his President. Backing away slowly, he turned, opened his eyes, and rose to his full height. With calm dignity, Aetolus now beckoned his aides to approach him and gave them the instructions that would bring to an end the most advanced and civilised nation the world would ever see.