“After a thousand years, only five of us remain.”

It was rare for the surviving Titans to congregate, especially on Earth where the eyes of Omnius watched them every moment. But General Agamemnon was so outraged after the disaster on Giedi Prime and the murder of his friend and ally that he didn’t waste time worrying about the evermind.

He had other priorities.

“The hrethgir have a new weapon that they have used against us with devastating consequences,” Agamemnon said.

The Titans were inside a maintenance chamber, their preservation canisters perched on pedestals. In a stern tone, he had instructed Ajax, Juno, Xerxes, and Dante to detach from their mobile forms. Tempers would flare, and an individual’s impulses were hard to control when installed in a powerful combat body, where thoughtrodes could convert any rash impulse into immediate, destructive action. Agamemnon trusted himself to restrain his anger, but some of the other Titans— especially Ajax— destroyed first and reconsidered later.

“After much investigation and analysis, we have learned that Barbarossa’s murderers came from Rossak, and the feral humans called her a Sorceress,” said Dante, who kept track of such things. “Rossak harbors more of these Sorceresses, women who possess enhanced telepathic capabilities.”

“Obviously,” Juno said, with sarcasm evident in her synthesized voice.

Dante continued, reasonable as always, “Until now, the Sorceresses have not been used in any large-scale aggressive function. After their triumph on Giedi Prime, however, it is probable that the hrethgir will use them to strike again.”

“Their action has also reminded us of how vulnerable we are,” Agamemnon said. “Robots can be replaced. Our organic brains cannot.”

Ajax was so infuriated by the dilemma of the Sorceresses that his life-support monitors had trouble maintaining the proper chemical balance inside his shimmering electrafluid. He could not find words to express his anger.

“But didn’t this Sorceress have to kill herself to slay Barbarossa and a handful of neo-cymeks?” Xerxes asked. “It was suicide. Do you think they’d be willing to do that again?”

“Just because you’re a coward, Xerxes, doesn’t mean the feral humans are so afraid to sacrifice themselves,” Agamemnon said. “That one Sorceress cost us seven neo-cymeks and a Titan. A staggering loss.”

After living a thousand years, during which billions upon billions of human lives were lost (many at Agamemnon’s own hands or while he watched), he had thought he was immune to witnessing death. Of the original Titans, Barbarossa, Juno, and Tlaloc had been his closest friends. The four of them had been the seeds of the rebellion. The other Titans had come later, adding to the junta as necessary.

Despite the fact that his mental images were very old, the Titan general still remembered Barbarossa in his human form. Vilhelm Jayther had been a man with thin arms and legs, wide shoulders, and a sunken chest. Not pleasing to look upon, some said, but his eyes had the sharpest intensity Agamemnon had ever seen. And his programming genius was unparalleled.

With a wolfish obsession, Jayther had accepted the challenge of overthrowing the Old Empire, losing sleep for weeks until he figured out how to solve the problem. Jayther gave himself over entirely to the task until he understood precisely how to manipulate sophisticated programming for the rebels’ purposes. Implanting humanlike ambitions and goals into the computer network, he had made the machines want to participate in the takeover.

Later, though, Omnius had developed ambitions of his own.

A man of tremendous foresight, Jayther had included fail-safe instructions that precluded the thinking machines from harming any of the Titans. Agamemnon and all of his compatriots were alive only because of Vilhelm Jayther— Barbarossa.

Now the Sorceresses had killed him. The realization kept pounding inside Agamemnon’s brain, building his anger.

“We cannot let this outrage go unpunished,” Ajax said. “I say we go to Rossak, slay all the women, and turn their world into a charred ball.”

“Dear Ajax,” Juno said sweetly, “need I remind you that just one of those Sorceresses destroyed Barbarossa and all the neo-cymeks with him?”

“So?” Ajax’s voice swelled with pride. “Single-handedly, I exterminated the human infestation on Walgis. Together, we can handle a few Sorceresses.”

In a sharp tone Agamemnon said, “The rebels on Walgis were already broken before you started slaughtering them, Ajax. These Sorceresses are different.”

Dante said, in a droning voice, “Omnius will never authorize a full-scale strike. The expenditure in resources would be too great. I have completed a preliminary analysis.”

“Nevertheless,” Agamemnon said, “it would be an extreme tactical mistake to allow this defeat to go unchallenged.”

After a few moments of uneasy silence, Xerxes said, “Since so few of us remain, the Titans should never, never attack together. Think of the risk.”

“But if we go together to Rossak and crush the Sorceresses, then the threat will be over,” Ajax said.

Juno made a hissing sound, then said, “I see your brain there in the jar, Ajax, but you don’t seem to be using it. Perhaps you should change your electrafluid? The Sorceresses have proven they can destroy us, and you want to go blundering into the greatest threat the cymeks have ever faced, like sheep baring our throats for slaughter?”

“We could bring enough robot ships to attack from orbit,” Dante said. “We need not risk ourselves.”

“This is personal,” Ajax growled. “One of the Titans has been assassinated. We don’t just toss missiles from the other side of the planetary system. That is the coward’s way . . . even if the thinking machines call it efficient.”

“There is room for compromise,” Agamemnon said. “Juno, Xerxes, and I can gather neo-cymeks as volunteers and go in with a robot fleet. That should be enough to inflict immense damage on Rossak.”

“But I can’t go, Agamemnon,” Xerxes said. “I am working here with Dante. Our greatest monuments in the Forum Plaza are nearly completed. We’ve just begun work on a new statue to Barbarossa.”

“Good timing,” Juno said. “I’m sure he appreciates it, now that he’s dead.”

“Xerxes is right,” Dante said. “There is also the immense frieze of the Victory of the Titans being laid out and constructed on the hillside near the center of the metropolitan grid. We have work crew supervisors, but they require constant surveillance. Otherwise expenditures will grow too great, and schedules will not be met—”

“Given the recent debacle with his own statue, Ajax is perfectly familiar with such problems,” Juno said. “Why not let him stay behind, instead of Xerxes?”

Ajax roared, “I will not remain here while others get the glory!”

But Agamemnon said, “Xerxes, you will come with us. Ajax, remain here to monitor the construction with Dante. Do it for the memory of Barbarossa.”

Both Xerxes and Ajax railed on, but Agamemnon was their leader, and he imposed the control over them that he had exerted for centuries. From her tank, the once-lovely Juno said, “Can you convince Omnius to allow this, my love?”

“The hrethgir on Giedi Prime not only killed our friend, but also obliterated the new Omnius incarnation before it could be updated. A long time ago, when Barbarossa altered the network’s original programming, he put something of himself into the computer mind, enough for it to understand the nature of conquest. I’m betting he will feel our need for revenge as well.”

The Titans considered this comment in silence, then Agamemnon said, “We will go to Rossak and leave it in flames.”