ROMA

by R. A. Ender

  On each column stood a plaque dedicated to the fallen soldiers of a particular battle or war. Several were over millennia old and dated back to the formation of the Confederated Union of Worlds against pirate raiders.

  The rotunda had only a single official entrance, though several side doors within exited to other parts of the building. However, with a public meeting being held, the other entrances were guarded and sealed and would remain so until the annals representatives had finished listening and asking questions and finally left.

  The main entrance was just as beautiful as the rest of the building, lacking only doors. Its entrance always remained open and focused directly on the bronze statue of Mars standing tall in the middle of the rotunda, aiming his bow and arrow at an unseen target above.

  Today, the rotunda was filled to overflowing, and Richard had a difficult time entering without spilling his hot calda. It was the yearly review of the defense and security of the Confederated Union of Worlds public meeting. Inside Defense Force, it was commonly referred to as nap duty. And this year, Richard had been pulled. It was a tradition that a single representative of each rank within the Defense Force is selected to attend. He was the Fleet Admiral representative.

  Though it was required that he be in attendance at the beginning of the meeting to be recorded and to remain dutifully alert during the presentation, it was not uncommon at all to slip away during the question and answer period. As it usually lasts roughly thirty minutes, Richard was reentering the rotunda before the meeting wrapped up.

  The public meeting was largely a waste of time, as the report being presented was submitted to the Senate and therefore publicly available at least a week before the actual meeting. But, the annalese still attended as it was a once a year moment to listen to the Commanding Admirals Council address the public.

  Last to arrive and be introduced were the twelve Commanding Admirals. Sitting along an extended rostrum, complete with decorative prows, the Admirals delivered their yearly report in summary. The elected head of the council was the only one who spoke, but the report was a joint publication and was always signed by all twelve.

  As Richard reentered the room, he could hear the booming voice of the current head of the council, Commanding Admiral Nathan Dredmoore, answering a question.

  Coming into view, the Commanding Admiral still looked as sharp and authoritative as he had from the moment he had been seated at the center of the rostrum that day. A couple of hours had not disheveled his dress uniform or his triumphal crown of laurel. The other Admirals fanned out from the center along the rostrum, and each appeared to be attentive and interested. The standards of the council stood at either end of the rostrum, flying proudly and free.

  Richard surveyed the room. It still looked as cramped as when he had slid out for his calda. The annalese, some with visual recorders, were chaotically spread in the public gallery. A single audio station was placed at the front and center of the gallery, and a short line of annalese was queued waiting to ask a question.

  Though the annual report was often quite substantive, the question and answer session never were. The Commanding Admirals never spoke beyond the report, despite repeated attempts by the annalese to lead them astray. But, they returned year after year hoping to trip them up into revealing a Confederate secret.

  Every annalese, at some point in their career, heard about the story of the Commanding Admiral who let slip the Christopher Sachaolo Class Heavy Frigate project. This secret class of ship had been part of the defense planning of the Confederacy for over a decade before the public became aware of it due to a tricky question and a worn out Admiral answering questions.

  Since that time, the question and answer session never lasted longer than a half hour, and as much as every annalese thought of that story as a challenge, every Commanding Admiral thought of it as a lesson.

  Richard finally managed to find his seat again, as a new question was asked.

  “Admiral Dredmoore, the report refers to a planned review of the Watabaeg Class Destroyer program but does not provide any dates. Since this program employs many members of the public at several worlds in the Old Colony region and its elimination could mean a significant economic reorganization, can you please provide more concrete details about when that review will take place? And, if you could also speak to the public involvement in that process?”

  The annalese who asked the question now dutifully returned to his seat, though Richard lost sight of him almost immediately as he left the audio station. As Dredmoore began to speak, Richard returned his attention to the rostrum.

  With a big breath in, Dredmoore began to answer. “It is, first of all, not the responsibility of the Defense Force to maintain economic certainty or stability of any world. We leave that to the local planetary governments. That said, we have traditionally always sought to work with any world affected by a Defense Force policy shift, and that will be no different in this case. Second, a review of the Watabaeg program does not mean its elimination. Next question?”

  Dredmoore, with his usual directness, moved to the next speaker. The next annalese was quite young looking from Richard’s point of view and seemed more than a little nervous. After a stammering start, he asked his question very hesitantly.

  “Ah, Admiral...Commanding Admiral Dredmoore, I would like...ah, can you speak to the situation in the Imperial Alliance of Empires? A new book on the subject by the reputable historian Tacitus… Ah, I mean Tacitanus, suggests that the I.A.E. might pose a threat to the Confederacy within the next year or so. He even speaks of an invasion. Can you comment...ah, speak to the book's suggestions?”

  Expecting the young annalese to sit, Dredmoore did not answer. However, whether from inexperience or design, the young man remained at the audio station. After a moment, Dredmoore cleared his throat and began.

  “Ah, we are always concerned about the threat from the Imperial Alliance, as is clearly detailed in our report, quite exhaustively I might add. As for specific undocumented and unfounded claims by historians, I cannot comment. Next ques...”

  But before Dredmoore finished his request, the young annalese began asking another question. This was quite unheard of and the noise in the room instantly began to rise. The noise easily drowned out the young man, but not Dredmoore.

  “Silence in the gallery!” He boomed in his loudest voice. Almost immediately, the room fell silent. Dredmoore looked around the room catching the eye of anyone still muttering or speaking to their neighbor.

  After a moment, he refocused on the young annalese, who despite everything, remained at the audio station.

  “Young man, we allow one question per annal publication. Please allow the next in line to speak.” Dredmoore requested in a tone which made it clear that he was not asking.

  The young man remained. It was obvious at this point that he was neither nervous nor inexperienced. He was deliberately acting with a purpose. To Richard, this seemed more than a little odd.

  “With due respect sir, I don’t believe you’ve answered my question. Furthermore, as the threat of invasion is quite a grave concern of all citizens of the Confederacy, I think they deserve a more direct response.”

  Dredmoore stared at the young man hard. Richard caught sight of a cadre of Praetorian Guards moving carefully to be in a position to assist if trouble was brewing here. One of the Commanding Admirals, a good friend of Richard’s, Bradley Shelbus, also caught sight of their movement and motioned them to hold.

  Dredmoore sat forward in his chair to dramatically take a closer look at the young man. Squinting to read his credentials, even though the list in front of him on the rostrum surely identified the annalese, Dredmoore spoke directly to the young man.

  “It’s Gaius Gracchus, yes?” Dredmoore asked, getting a nodding response from the young man now publicly identified.

  “Well, Mr. Gracchus, as I said, I do not address rumor and fear mongering historians. If you will do your research you will know that Mr. Tacitanus has had m
any publications using secret sources. Not one of his opinions has ever come to fruition. His books may be fine for a light read during a hyperspace cruise, but they do not rise to the level of official government information and are, therefore, as I have said, not worth commenting on. Whatever you hoped to accomplish, perhaps some free advertising on tonight’s annals broadcasts, I hope you are satisfied.”

  Looking around the room and seeing many nodding heads in the gallery, Dredmoore signaled to his Praetorian Guard, who yelled out, “All rise!” Upon which everyone in the rotunda rose to their feet.

  The Head of the Praetorian Guard, taking the right most standard from the end of the rostrum, marched to one of the secure side exits. The Commanding Admirals, in single file, followed the standard and proceeded to walk out of the room. The last Praetorian guard took the remaining standard and joined the rear of the line. Before he exited the rotunda, he turned and shouted a salute, before exiting and closing the door.

  The moment the door closed, the annalese began to disassemble their equipment and leave through the main entrance as soon as possible. All of them, of course, had time deadlines to fulfill, depending on their planet of origin. A few were quite leisurely, obviously, planets where the capital was at this moment safely sleeping.

  Suddenly, a pat on the shoulder drew Richard’s attention to someone who had approached him from behind, but whom he had not heard with all the noise now surrounding him.

  “I thought I saw you slip in with some hot calda,” the still unidentified stranger said. “Great fun that last question, eh?”

  Turning around, Richard instantly recognized a friend from the Siege of Veselyy.

  “Well, well, well! The first and last annalese I ever allowed on my command deck! How are you Anthonius?”

  Anthonius smiled quite broadly, “Really well, thank you. And I see from your Fleet Admiral insignia that you are in the same boat. Though, I figured after the mess you made of the Veselyy quarantine fleet they would never give you another one.”

  The smile and sparkle in Anthonius’ eye made it clear he was joking. It had been a long time since he had last seen Anthonius. The siege of Veselyy was almost twenty-five years ago, and the first mission for a young Captain Hilbornus. After some extraordinary circumstances, his ship had become the flagship, and somehow he and his crew had managed to come out of that three-way conflict as the heroes. All along, Anthonius had been the Defense Force assigned annalese, to record the engagement for posterity. And, during that time, he had almost become a member of the crew.

  But, as an annalese, he went where the stories were, and Richard couldn’t remember having seen him since. Now, out of the blue, here he is.

  “What are you doing here? Wouldn't I think this was important enough for you to cover personally?

  Anthonius smiled, “I haven’t covered anything as an annalese for a long time, my friend. I own several annals now, on three different planets. I have a meeting later with the Defense Force relations department to get some of my annalese’s onto some ships for a real play we are doing on the life of Defense Force personnel. I saw your name near the top of the list of attendees at this meeting, so I thought I would try to catch the end of it and say hi.”

  He paused for a moment, placed his hand on Richard’s arm and gave a bit of a squeeze. “Plus, I was hoping maybe to get one of my annalese on your ship, since I know how much you enjoy our kind around. Which fleet are you commanding?”

  Richard had to smile now, remembering the fighting that went on when Anthonius tried to report too many details about the siege. They butted heads frequently, but both managed to learn to respect the other as a hard and dedicated worker.

  “Well, I’m afraid that won’t be possible. You asked which fleet I command? I command the trainee fleet. One ship, filled with three year’s worth of officers in training, a third of them fresh from Defense Force academy graduation. Not exactly a well-oiled machine that Defense Force will let your annalese poke their noses into.”

  Richard smiled as he thought about his ship. It was an amazing offer he received nine years ago. Promotion to Admiral of the Fleet and command of the Kordont Emperor Class Battle Cruiser Caesar Augustus. It was a specially designed, vastly improved version of the original Kordont Executive Class. With eight engines, the most up to date run to jump technology, armed to the teeth, shielding to stop a full force Agamemnon Class Bolos Cannon onslaught, and most importantly, the latest in defense fighter technology, the unmanned Squalus fighter.

  Its mission was twofold. First, it was a fleet onto itself, so it could be independently dispatched at will. Richard was the final authority over the ship, answerable to only the Commanding Admirals council. When they needed the ship to perform a mission, it did so. Otherwise, Richard had complete mission discretion. The Commanding Admirals tended to use the Augustus for diplomatic and intelligence missions, sending it places where their flagship could not go. To date, the ship had performed beautifully, and Richard was still as excited as ever to start a new training cruise.

  And that was the second part of the ship's mission, to train officers. Each graduating class from the Defense Force academies of New Rome, New Earth, and Augustus had graduates chosen for officer training. After only a single term, the graduates were commissioned onto the Augustus for a three-year cruise, the final step to graduate from officer training and being assigned to other ships in the fleet. A third of the ship was always from a single graduating year, and as they successfully completed each year of their cruise, they moved up to become more senior officers on board the Augustus.

  It was a unique idea, sponsored by his friend Admiral Shelbus, which also explained why he had been entrusted with the position. It was a big responsibility. Every single officer in Defense Force for nearly the last decade had been personally educated and trained by Richard and his senior staff. His whole senior staff came with him from the Churchill. Each of them saw the same promise of being able to mold, teach and pass along their wealth of experience to a new generation of officers as a unique and exciting opportunity.

  So far, the program had been quite successful. The commanders in the field noted a big improvement in officer experience and quality, decreasing the time it took for them to acclimate to a non-college environment. It was also a success for Richard as well, as he got to become personally connected with the future leaders of Defense Force, an asset which would certainly help him in the future.

  Another big positive was that with control of the ship's mission, he could visit New Earth more often, and visit Heather. Ten years ago after the chaos that followed the Supreme Council overthrow in the I.A.E., Richard had spent a year in a position with New Earth Defense Alliance, advising them on siege strategy and defense. That gave Richard more than enough time to rekindle his childhood romance with Heather, who at that time was the head of New Earth Defense Alliance base LaGuardius Seccus. Now, of course, she was’the head of the whole organization!

  Though the romance was rekindled, neither took any steps to make anything permanent and when the offer came to Richard, she wouldn’t let him say no. He could tell that it hurt her to push him toward a position which would mean he had to leave her again, but the offer was impossible to turn down. Still they had both left themselves available. And, a few times each year, Richard managed to coordinate a training mission to New Earth and spend some time with the love of his life. And they got to talk nearly every day.

  For Richard, it was as close to being with the only person he had ever truly loved as he would get until he retired, or until she retired and came on board as a senior advisor to the Admiral.

  Returning to his conversation, Richard offered some help. “If you need help getting your real play idea going, let me know. Usually, the relations department is happy to get some positive coverage, but if you are having trouble, I might be able to help.”

  Anthonius was about to say something when a Praetorian Guard briskly walked up, crisply saluted, and said, “Fleet Admiral Hil
bornus, the Commanding Admirals council orders your presence at once in chamber. Please follow me.”

  Richard was a little surprised but expected that he would be summoned at some point to the Commanding Admirals Council chamber. He didn’t believe for a second that he had been selected to attend the annual public meeting at random.

  The Praetorian Guard had already spun on his heels and was walking away, so Richard had to follow quickly. Looking over his shoulder as he walked, he called back to Antonius.

  “A pleasure to see you again. Good luck!”

  Anthonius smiled and waved a goodbye, not bothering to shout across the room.

  CHAPTER 6

  As Commanding Admiral Bradley Shelbus walked through the doorway leading out of the Rotunda into the narrow hallway beyond, he could already see that Dredmoore was fuming. Though he managed to control his tongue until everyone in the procession had been safely sealed off from the annalese, Shelbus had sat on council for more years than he could count along with Dredmoore. His anger was always plainly evident, even when stewing in silence.

  Almost as the door clicked closed, he exploded.

  “That damned fool ass! Using our meeting to drum up publicity for that charlatan hack! How did he get in? Who gave him his credentials! This is intolerable. To be made a fool of!” Dredmoore screamed out.