by Frank Morin
“I have to go home,” Alter said, rising, his expression grim.
“Why?” Gregorios asked.
He got the response he was hoping for.
Alter slammed a palm onto the table. “They’re my family! I have to help.”
“What would help your family the most?” Eirene asked.
“Killing whoever did this,” he said without hesitation. At least his priorities were still straight.
“Do you think you’ll be able to accomplish that by returning to the chaos of that compound?” Gregorios asked.
“I have to do something,” Alter exclaimed.
“Exactly.” He leaned across the table, holding Alter’s gaze. “You’re right, it’s your duty to help destroy the enemy who attacked your family, but rushing off to Jerusalem isn’t going to accomplish that.”
“What are you saying?”
“Think about it,” Gregorios said. “We don’t know any details yet, but if the enemy knows you even a little bit, the first thing they should expect is for you to rush home and waste a lot of time there trying to comfort your family.”
“Why would they care?” Alter demanded. “I’m not the one they attacked.”
“Of all of your family, who is playing an important role helping us track down the heka running around with a forbidden rune and possibly a master rune?”
“You think the attack is related to what we’re doing?”
“You tell me,” Gregorios said. “Why would an enhanced group attack your home right now?”
“We have fought the kashaph for all time,” Alter declared. “They hate us.”
“True, but they never attack you. Not your home. No normal heka cell could hope to pull that off. It would be suicidal.”
Eirene took up the train of thought. “The only way someone could carry out a successful attack against your well-defended home would be with careful planning and brilliant execution. How many heka cells do you know of that operate with that level of sophistication?”
“Only one.” His anger faded and he settled back into his chair, his expression turning thoughtful.
Sarah moved around the table and placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’re all worried about your family, Alter. This has to be such a hard time for you.”
“I want to know they’re safe,” he said.
“We’ll get word as soon as possible,” Eirene assured him. “But I think Greg is right. This has to be related to what we’re already dealing with.”
“We’ll hunt them down together,” Tomas said.
“Thank you.”
Gregorios silently applauded his team. They’d helped Alter shift focus.
“This is a disturbing trend,” Tomas added. “First they somehow sabotage your powers. Then they move against the hunters. They’re far more organized than we ever suspected. I’m starting to wonder if Mai Luan might have only played a small role in what they were planning.”
“We don’t even know who they are,” Sarah said.
“One of them has to be that man in the wide-brimmed hat who keeps dogging your steps,” Tomas said.
“That’s likely,” Eirene said. “I wish we knew where they were hiding.”
“We know where the hat man will pop up,” Gregorios said.
“You want to enter another memory?” Alter asked. “Despite the risk?”
“Because of it,” Gregorios said. “They’ve hit us all hard, right where it hurts. I want to hurt them back.” He couldn’t risk allowing anyone to continue Mai Luan’s work. Besides, the man with the wide-brimmed hat had struck at his family. That challenge could not go unanswered.
“I’m not sure we can make the machines work,” Eirene said. “Whatever they’re using to affect our powers is pervasive and extremely dangerous.”
“With Alter’s help, the children were able to maintain the connection,” Gregorios said.
“Really?” She gave Alter a thoughtful look.
“I wonder why?” Sarah asked.
Alter shrugged. “Perhaps their runes are tuned only to block facetaker powers. Combining my rounon gift with their nevron might be what does the trick.”
“Perhaps,” Gregorios said. “Something about you stumps their spell, that’s for sure.”
“So they won’t be expecting us,” Eirene said.
“I like that,” Tomas said. “Give them a taste of their own medicine.”
“It’s decided then,” Gregorios said, rising. “We go hunting.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I am not carrying on a war of extermination against the Romans. I am contending for honour and empire. My ancestors yielded to Roman valour. I am endeavouring that others, in their turn, will be obliged to yield to my good fortune, my greater ciphers, and my valour.
~Hannibal Barca, Rune Warrior, 216 B.C.
The memory formed around Eirene and she found herself on a low hill overlooking the regular campfires of a Roman legion. Very interesting. She had planned to land in Rome, not a remote hillside.
She was wearing Iltea’s body.
Gregorios appeared beside her, dressed in standard Roman armor. He grimaced when he saw it, and it transformed into chainmail under a leather jacket. He’d always preferred the flexibility of chainmail.
Then he noticed the suit she was wearing and gave a low whistle. “You always looked stunning in that one.”
Eirene tossed her long, red hair over her shoulder. She had appeared in the same leather halter top and short skirt she had worn in her recent nightmare. She willed a white robe to cover it.
Tomas appeared beside her, dressed as a Roman legionnaire. He took in the surroundings at a glance. “Back in Italy?”
“It’s where we keep seeing our hatted friend,” Eirene said.
Growling turned Tomas around. A tall, wolf-like creature stalked up the hill toward them on its hind legs. He moved to intercept.
A shotgun roared, and the monster’s head disintegrated into a bloody lump.
Sarah had appeared nearby, wearing a revealing gown of amber satin. She cradled the shotgun in one arm and gestured at herself, an expression of disbelief on her face. “Who thought up this outfit?”
“It does look fantastic,” Tomas said as he shifted to one side to dispatch a vicious-looking snake that slithered out of the ground.
Sarah glanced at Eirene and raised an eyebrow.
“Wasn’t me,” Eirene said. Gregorios maintained an innocent expression, so she decided not to press it. With a thought, she transformed the robe into leather armor that covered Sarah much better.
“I always liked girls in leather,” Tomas said, stealing a kiss. It was nice to see the children play, despite the seriousness of the mission.
“Don’t get distracted,” Sarah replied with a smile. “Where are we anyway?”
Eirene pointed down at the army camp in the valley. “Those are Roman legions.”
“So that narrows it down to about a thousand years,” Tomas said.
Gregorios had been studying the surrounding countryside. “I think we landed at the beginning of the Third Servile War.”
“The third what?” Sarah asked.
“Servile War,” Gregorios said with a frown. “Spartacus again.”
“He seems really persistent,” Tomas said.
“Tell me about it.” Eirene suspected Gregorios was right. The body she wore felt young, like it had in the early days of that war. “I don’t remember this exact moment, so I’m guessing we’ve caught the man in the wide-brimmed hat walking again.”
“If things go the way they have recently,” Gregorios said. “I suspect we’ll find him hiding out with Spartacus.”
“How does that work if you haven’t actually shared a memory?” Sarah asked. “We haven’t practiced non-shared memory linking.”
“Alter modified the runes on our machines,” Eirene explained. “The idea was to have them sync our memory streams to any already-active memory walking happening during a time we’ve lived.”
�
��That’s a pretty wide net those runes are casting,” Tomas said.
Eirene shrugged. “It appears to be working. Since we suspect there’s at most one other group possessing a machine and the capability of walking memories, our goal is to intercept them.”
“And remove them,” Gregorios added.
“Where do you think we’ll find them?” Tomas asked. “I don’t feel like hunting through an entire legion.”
Eirene took her bearings. It was early evening, but enough light still lingered to get a sense of the land.
“Spartacus isn’t with the legion. His army should be close.” She pointed south. “Best bet is around the next hill.”
“You think tomorrow’s the day he trounces old Glaber?” Gregorios asked.
“It has that feel to it.”
Praetor Gaius Claudius Glaber commanded the force sent to quell the young rebellion before it picked up steam. He was soundly defeated by the crafty Spartacus in two encounters that saw most of Glaber’s army destroyed. He barely escaped with his life.
“The idiot made a mess of things,” Gregorios said as he led the group south.
“What happened?” Sarah asked.
“He didn’t take our advice, that’s what,” Eirene said. “Spartacus was young but already bore one enhancement, as did several of his close companions. They were anything but the ignorant, untrained slaves the praetor assumed.”
“We’d been sent to Capua to remove Spartacus and his wife, but he escaped before we could complete the mission,” Gregorios added.
“Wait, his wife?” Sarah asked.
Eirene gestured at the suit she wore. “Another long story. She was enhanced too.”
Night had recently fallen over the rolling, fertile hills of that south-central region of Italy. The weather was balmy and pleasant.
“We’re not going to make it before the children get tired in the real world,” Gregorios said after about five minutes of walking.
“Skip the boring parts,” Eirene suggested.
“I hadn’t considered that.”
“Our sombrero’d quarry stopped time. I figure that most memories skip past the boring parts anyway, so it should work.”
“It’s worth a try,” Gregorios agreed. “The memory seems stable enough.”
With Alter linked to both Bastien and Francesca via rune, they had been able to embrace their nevra cores to send the team back into this memory. Alter’s peculiar immunity to the forbidden rune bothered Eirene, if the problem even originated with a forbidden rune. There was a piece to the puzzle they had not put together yet and it gnawed at the back of her mind. Something about Alter held the key to solving it.
“You’ve got the primary spot for this memory,” Gregorios said. “You try it.”
Eirene focused on the distant hill they were marching toward and imagined them standing there already. She expected a lurch or sense of travel, but the memory just blurred, then re-formed around them. They stood atop the hill, just as she’d imagined. It smelled of cut grass, and there was a scent of apple blossoms in the air.
“Not bad,” Gregorios said.
“Ah, guys?” Sarah called. She stood at the edge of a dense cluster of bushes that blocked Eirene’s view to the south. “You’re going to want to see this.”
The land beyond the bushes fell gently into another valley that was full of soldiers. Unlike the Romans, this army was awake, alert, and in formation. They were all facing the hill where Eirene and her small group stood. At the front stood Spartacus. Even at two hundred yards, Eirene easily recognized him.
Instead of raising his oaken spear and raging at her, he trotted forward alone.
“That’s not really fair,” Sarah said, pumping her shotgun. “He gets a whole army?”
“I don’t see hat man anywhere,” Gregorios said.
“We might have to thin the crowds a bit,” Tomas said, fingers slowly clenching.
“Should we get out of here?” Sarah asked, looking nervous.
“Probably,” Eirene said. “But wait a minute. I want to see what old Spartypants has to say.”
“Oh, that’s terrible,” Sarah said with a smile and a shake of her head.
Eirene shrugged. “I’ve called him worse.”
Spartacus stopped about fifty yards away, his army still standing at attention far behind. He raised his staff and drove it into the ground.
“Why did you let the arenas fall?” he shouted.
Eirene exchanged a surprised look with Gregorios.
“What are you talking about?” she shouted back.
“You’ve wasted the time granted to you,” Spartacus shouted. “I’m disappointed.”
“Something’s definitely not right,” Gregorios said.
Eirene felt another will tug at her control of the memoryscape.
“Beware,” she told them. “I think it’s some kind of subtle trap.”
Spartacus started forward again, his spear left sticking in the ground. Behind him the army shouted battle cries and broke into a charge.
Eirene wanted to stay, to beat the truth out of Spartacus, but the invisible will fighting for control of the memoryscape began wrenching it from her. She tried to hold it, to force control over the charging army, but a pounding headache began in her skull.
“Definitely some kind of trap,” she whispered, clutching at her head. “Best we hunt elsewhere.” She looked skyward. “Bastien. We need to go.”
The dream faded but Spartacus’ voice echoed across the distance.
“Gregorios, I can’t believe you’re still with her.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Apollo, grant me wisdom, and Shahrokh shall arrange enhancements for my guards. Spartacus is still at large and, although I am grateful he took the life of my brother, my own assassination is not acceptable. What can be done to rid the world of that monster?
~Emperor Domitian, after the assassination of Titus, A.D. 81
“Well, that could have gone better,” Eirene said when she got her heavy helmet off.
“How could Spartacus be waiting for us like that?” Sarah asked. “Aren’t people in memory supposed to just live the memories?”
“That’s what we thought,” Eirene said.
“That’s not what’s happening, not with him.”
“It’s worse than that,” Gregorios said. “He’s never talked like that. Ever.”
“It’s almost like he’s a player again after all these years,” Eirene agreed. That exchange had been so strange, it didn’t feel real.
“I think I’m missing something,” Sarah said. “Who was Spartacus, anyway?”
“Like we said, he was a heka,” Eirene said. “A very difficult one.”
“What are you not telling us?” Sarah asked.
Eirene approved of Sarah’s sharp mind. She’d keep Tomas on his toes. That would be good for both of them.
“History has it partially correct with Spartacus,” Gregorios said. “He was Thracian. He was a gladiator. He led a revolt.”
“But we’ve also made sure history has left out most of what Spartacus really was,” Eirene added.
“I hate that you mess with history,” Sarah muttered. “It’s hard enough to get it straight when you think it’s straight.”
“History’s written by the winners for a reason,” Eirene said. “It’s a tool, and sometimes a weapon.”
She didn’t like revisiting her many memories of Spartacus, but it seemed the man in the wide-brimmed had taken a special interest in Spartacus’ role in their memory excursions. Now he was twisting the Thracian’s character. She just couldn’t imagine why.
“Spartacus and his wife were heka and were recruited by Baladeva’s agents.”
“Wait a minute,” Sarah said. “The Baladeva we ran into when John got attacked?”
“The one and only.”
“That’s an interesting connection,” Tomas said.
“More deadly than interesting,” Eirene said. “Shahrokh found out that Baladev
a’s agents were recruiting among the gladiators and he sent the two of us to remove the threat.”
“We took care of Iltea, Spartacus’ wife,” Gregorios said. “You saw her form in the memory we just left.”
“The good-looking redhead?” Tomas asked.
“Thank you, dear,” Eirene said with a smile. “That form always did look good on me.”
“So you like redheads?” Sarah asked, one eyebrow raised, her expression guarded.
A look of terror flitted across Tomas’s face as he stammered, trying to come up with a reply that wouldn’t dig him in deeper. Since he recently helped save Eirene’s life again, she decided to intervene.
“Spartacus escaped with the other gladiators from the school in Capua before we could reach him. He eventually became our most bitter enemy.”
“Because you killed his wife?” Sarah asked.
“He hated me especially for what I did to her,” Eirene admitted. “But he fought us also because we stood against him and thwarted his purpose.”
“What was that?” Alter asked.
“To assassinate all of the facetakers and destroy the newly formed council.”
Alter shrugged. To him, Spartacus was probably sounding better and better.
“So you killed him when his army was defeated?” Tomas asked.
Gregorios shook his head. “If only it were that simple. We were embedded in Crassus’ army, which is why they defeated Spartacus and his enhanced troops, but he escaped. We thought he was gone, but he eventually returned, far more powerful than before.”
“He didn’t die?” Sarah exclaimed. “Is there anything I know about him that’s true?”
“You should know better than believing what you watch in a movie,” Gregorios said.
“The television show was better,” she said, looking frustrated.
“He had been trained by Baladeva’s top heka operatives,” Eirene said. “He already had a brilliant strategic mind. After adding more enhancements than almost anyone has ever managed, he became the closest thing to a demigod I’ve ever seen.”
“Let’s just say we never got along,” Gregorios said. He looked like he wished they hadn’t started the discussion. Some memories from that history were painful for him. “And we continued to disagree for several hundred years.”