Muses of Terra (Codex Antonius Book 2)

by Rob Steiner

  He smiled. “Welcome back.”

  “Where…?”

  “Hold on,” he said, and then took a large blanket from Claudia, who stood near the head of the cot on which Ocella lay. Kaeso wrapped the blanket tightly around Ocella’s naked, gel-covered body. “Let’s get you warm first.”

  Claudia went and stood next to Kaeso, regarding Ocella with a sympathetic smile. “No fun being born, is it?”

  “Born?”

  Ocella feigned confusion, but she already knew what had happened. Memories came back to her in a torrent. She could access them the same way she could when she stood before Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva.

  She was a golem.

  “Kaeso” gently wiped her face with the towel. “I resisted at first, but it’s not so bad. All the injuries I had before, the changes Umbra made to my body—all gone. This is the real me, and I’ve never felt better. You will, too, once you’re a little warmer and we get some hot kaffa in you. It’s actually quite good here.”

  No. If I’m a golem, I’m already dead. I’m not alive. This isn’t me. Oh, gods, they’ve somehow trapped my soul! I’ll never see Elysium. I’ll never see Cordus again. My poor, dear boy…

  Despair overwhelmed Ocella. Her body started to go numb, beginning in her fingers and toes, then spreading up her arms and legs. She couldn’t move and she didn’t care. Her breathing shallowed, and her heart skipped beats, then struggled to beat at all.

  The sympathetic smiles Kaeso and Claudia wore were replaced with cold frowns, as if Ocella was a piece of machinery that didn’t work the way they hoped.

  “She’s fading,” Claudia said. “The invasion approaches—”

  “It’s all right,” Kaeso said. “She’ll come around.” He sighed. “Let’s get another body.”

  Then warmth and darkness embraced her.

  And awareness came to her in waves….

  40

  Cordus thanked Fortuna that the Consular Palace had not changed since he left. He led Aquilina, Ulpius, and Gracchus through the labyrinthine halls, down into the basements, and through ancient corridors. For a while, Ulpius and Gracchus stayed back several dozen paces to ensure they weren’t followed. Cordus assumed the Praetorians fighting near the palace doors had held back the attackers, for Ulpius and Gracchus reported no signs of pursuit when they later rejoined him and Aquilina.

  Cordus took the survivors down a long, brick-lined tunnel with ancient wiring that lit the way with dim light fixtures. He stopped at a large metal door with rust around the edges. Cordus knew this place well. He pulled on the old latch, and the door opened with a loud scraping that echoed up and down the hall. They all held their breath and listened for footsteps. When Cordus heard none, he pulled the door wide enough to let them in. He stepped into the dark room, felt along the left side of the wall for the ancient light switch, and flipped it on. Light pads above them fluttered, then came on to illuminate the room. Cordus pulled the door close as soon as they were all in.

  “Dis Pater,” Gracchus breathed as he looked around.

  They stood in a large storage room, a hundred paces long and wide, containing items that were centuries old—from the first tabulari to bins of clothing to old hand-made toys the consular children played with before the era of mass industry. All the items were labeled and stacked neatly on rows of wide shelves that stretched into the murkiness ahead. To their right sat an old ground car that used to run on steam, most of it covered in a moldering canvas tarp. The room displayed the Roman penchant for organization, but also showed how quickly Romans forgot their past—it obviously had not been visited in years.

  Cordus led them down a row toward the back of the room.

  “Been working in the palace for three years,” Ulpius muttered from behind Cordus, “and I never knew this was here. More holes in this place than a senator’s honor.”

  “How did you find this?” Aquilina asked.

  Cordus glanced at her. It was the first thing she said since they fled the attack. Her eyes were still hollow, but her voice was calm.

  “Couldn’t stand my family, so I did a lot of exploring. Drove them crazy, too, because I’d disappear and they wouldn’t know where I’d gone. This place was my favorite. Only came here three times, though.”

  “Only three?”

  “After the third time, my father beheaded the slave who was supposed to watch me.”

  She was silent.

  Cordus sighed deeply, trying to expel the memory. “Anyway, there’s an old visum box here that I adapted to pick up the Palace bands.”

  “Those things are ancient. How old were you when you did that?”

  Cordus shrugged. “Nine.”

  The light pads were dark above where his old visum should be, but there was enough ambient light for him to find the box. It sat in the corner of a storage room behind a small enclosure he had made years ago with boxes and tarps. If he hadn’t known what he was looking for, he would have assumed it was just another stack of boxed junk. But Cordus flipped over a tarp as if he’d been here yesterday and entered the enclosure. His Muse-enhanced sight found the visum in the meager light, and he turned the on-dial. He smiled when the screen flickered to life and showed the same children’s band he used to watch.

  Nostalgia hit him like a blow to the stomach. His Muse-enhanced memory was always excellent with sensory details, but emotional memories usually weren’t as vivid. This time was different. He remembered the loneliness that drove him down here in the first place, only for him to replace it with a different loneliness: a wish to play with children who weren’t forced to play with him out of fear for their lives. He would watch the entertainment shows about children playing together in parks with toys or talking to fantasy animals. He marveled at advertisements depicting happy families doing happy things.

  Normal lives that he knew he’d never have.

  “Cordus?” Aquilina said from behind.

  Cordus blinked, wondering how long he’d been staring at the children’s band. He reached for the box’s finder and searched for a news band.

  “—the impostor was killed during his cowardly attack,” said a grim-faced older man in a black uniform with Praetorian gold-rimmed scorpion sigils on his shoulders. He stood just outside the entrance to the Consular Palace. Behind him, portable lights showed the blown out doors, shredded by the explosion and subsequent pulse fire. The steps leading up to the doors, and walls around them, were pockmarked and blackened. “But we can confirm the impostor’s men were all killed as well. Unfortunately…we were unable to save the Dictator’s life. She died of knife wounds from the impostor’s own hand just before he set off his bomb. The Praetorian Guard is now searching the area for the impostor’s cohorts. They won’t get far.”

  “Son of a whore,” Ulpius snarled. “That’s Prefect Tarquitius. He’s head of the Praetorian Guard.”

  “Who got to him?” Aquilina asked in a hard but quiet voice. Cordus saw in her eyes the plans for her next assassination.

  “To confirm,” an off-camera news crier said, “you’re saying this man”—a still picture appeared of Cordus when he stepped off Vacuna in the Consular Palace gardens—“is not the real Marcus Antonius Cordus, but an impostor?”

  “Correct,” Tarquitius said. “He only wanted to get close to the Dictator so he could murder her with a bomb surgically embedded in his body. The note he left us—the one I just read to you—confirms this.”

  “And what of Terra’s defense?” the news crier asked. “Reports say Terra is the alien vessel’s next target?”

  “Senator Quintus Arrius Wendatus has graciously offered his forces up for the defense of the Terran system,” Tarquitius explained. “Dictator Servillia and the Senator were conducting secret negotiations—”

  Ulpius cursed under his breath. Aquilina whispered through clenched teeth, “Lies. Arrius was the only warlord who refused to contribute.”

  “—so the Senator will honor the deal both he and the Dictator were about to announce before
this horrible crime.”

  “When will the Senator’s forces arrive in the Terran system? The alien ship is only a day away at its current speed.”

  “As I said, the Senator and Dictator had already negotiated for the merging of their Legions, so the Senator’s forces are already on their way. They should arrive before the vessel gets here.”

  “That’s good to hear, Prefect. Now, are there any theories as to who was behind the Dictator’s assassination? The impostor fooled many experts. Surely he had some powerful backing, yes?”

  Tarquitius shook his head. “No evidence yet, but we do have suspects in custody who will provide the information we need soon enough. I cannot name our suspects at this time.”

  “They haven’t had the time to torture their ‘suspects’ into confessing,” Gracchus muttered.

  Worry twisted Cordus’s gut. Blaesus, Dariya, and Daryush…

  “How could this have happened?” the news crier asked. “How did this impostor get so close to the Dictator and fool even the Consular Medicus, who swore his blood matched the samples previously taken from Marcus Antonius Cordus?”

  Tarquitius sighed deeply. “We’ve heard the rumors for six years. We all wanted to believe one of the Antonii lived, especially Cordus, who captured every Roman’s heart after the Liberti assassinated him. With this alien threat, we all prayed for a savior who could unite Romans once again to fight a common threat. Well this impostor took advantage of that desire. We’re not sure how he did it yet, but we will find out. Right now all Romans need to unite under a single banner. I’m not a political man; my only desire is to ensure the safety of the Republic. That is why I will support Senator Arrius’s leadership during this present crisis. I urge all Romans who love the Republic to do the same.”

  “Thank you for taking the time to talk with us, Prefect Tarquitius.”

  Tarquitius nodded and then left the interview area.

  The news crier turned to the camera and said, “Two hours ago, the Vestales removed the Sacred Flame from the Temple of Vesta for the first time in over a thousand years. They say it is just a precaution, but does it mean Roma is doomed? We’ll find out after this message from Scipio’s Meats and Confections. Whether weddings, dinner parties, or funerals, Scipio’s can…”

  Gracchus spit on the floor. “Tarquitius, you bastard.”

  Ulpius turned to Aquilina. “What are your orders?”

  Aquilina continued staring at the visum. “We find Arrius.”

  Cordus stayed silent as they began discussing possible ways to kill the Senator. Cordus wasn’t thinking of the Republic or vengeance or the alien vessel: he wondered if his crew were still safe. He wondered if Vacuna was still in the Consular gardens. He wondered if Ocella and Kaeso were still alive, somewhere, inside that alien vessel that everyone was trying to destroy.

  Most of all he felt relief. He would not be consul today.

  But his plan to stop the alien vessel still needed to go through if Terra had any hope of survival. Even with all Roman factions united, Cordus doubted their fleets could do anything. His idea was the only way.

  “We need to get to your Muse com center,” Cordus said, interrupting the assassination planning between the Praetorians. All three looked at him with stony faces. “Regardless of what’s happened, my idea is still the only hope we have of stopping that vessel.”

  Aquilina’s jaw moved back and forth. “That may be true,” she said quietly, “but I would sooner see the Republic burn than unite under the banner of Arrius.”

  “Aquilina, I know what you must be feeling, but now is not the time—”

  “You have no idea what I’m feeling,” she snarled. “I just held my mother’s bloody corpse in my arms. I know who did it, so I’m going to kill him.”

  Cordus glanced at Ulpius and Gracchus, and knew he’d get no support from them. They had just lost two friends and the dictator to whom they had sworn oaths. Their blood was boiling, and they wanted Arrius’s head just as much as Aquilina did.

  “Listen to me, all of you,” Cordus said slowly. “You will have Arrius, I swear this to you. I will even help you. But not now. If we don’t go with my plan now, we won’t be ready when the alien vessel arrives.”

  Aquilina shook her head. “Arrius dies as soon as he arrives in the Terran system.”

  “Fine,” Cordus said, “but he won’t get here for another twenty-four hours. Plenty of time to prepare for the alien vessel. After that, you’re free to go on whatever suicide mission you want.”

  Aquilina stared at him for a long time. In the flickering lights of the visum screen, she seemed the very likeness of Nemesis, with the pale skin and tormented eyes of the vengeance goddess.

  “Or was that talk of self-sacrifice and saving billions of Romans just cac?” Cordus continued. “Now that you have to sacrifice for the greater good, are you willing to do it?”

  Aquilina tilted her head to one side, then one corner of her mouth turned up in a smile that held no warmth. “We’ll help you for twenty-four hours. But when Arrius arrives—”

  “Right,” Cordus said.

  He knew she wouldn’t listen to his arguments at this point. He just hoped she would come to her senses later when he really needed her.

  41

  As they approached the way line, Ocella watched on the vessel's wall-sized monitors. The way line was marked with a yellow cross-hair target; otherwise it would be invisible to the naked eye. This way line would take them to the Terran system.

  The vessel was leaving behind the Pietas system—a system that had once been a thriving Roman province largely untouched by the civil war—as barren and lifeless as it had been before humans had terraformed it. The vessel had taken enough witnesses from among the population to obtain a diverse selection of experiences for the Observers and then eliminated all life in the system with its toxin drones. They would not leave behind anything that could one day rise to challenge the Observers. It had happened many times before the Observers had found the wisdom of eliminating all rivals.

  Better to use the golems as hosts rather than naturally occurring species—there was no doubt regarding biological compatibility nor any chance of an anomalous being evolving to resist their strain.

  Like Marcus Antonius Cordus.

  Ocella now understood why they had not taken him on Reantium: They wanted him to chase the vessel in a vain attempt to rescue Kaeso and Ocella. They knew he was a unique individual and that his emotional experiences would be highly valuable to the new archives and as trade with other vessels of their strain.

  But they had not counted on just how unique Cordus was until after they had absorbed the minds of Ocella and Kaeso. They now understood the quality of his character, that he could unite humanity against the Observers. Worse, they now understood his potential immunity to all strains, not just the Terran strain in him.

  They had to find him on Terra and take him, then discover the biological mechanisms that produced such a being. His body contained the secrets to why he could resist the Observers. And so the attack on Terra would be an invasion, not an extermination.

  As a golem, Ocella no longer held any affection for the boy, but her memories of doing so were still there. Her knowledge of Cordus was one of the reasons the vessel had chosen her and Kaeso to oversee its first invasion force in over six million years: They would have an easier time capturing Cordus if once recognized them.

  Even Ocella’s golem mind marveled how it had been so long since the Observers last undertook an invasion. The octopods were the last species they’d encountered, and they had been easily conquered. The Observers took their experiences, stored them in the internal archives, exterminated the octopods, and then slept until the humans—a new species with new experiences—discovered them. The Observers would return to their home after exterminating the humans and trade experiences with other vessels of the Observer strain. Though the Observers hid most of their thoughts from her, she could sense their growing excitement. They were eager
for a fight after so long, to test themselves against another sentience.

  She was happy the Observers shared this knowledge with her rather than blocking themselves like they had with the Claudia golem earlier. They had finally removed the block from Claudia, but Ocella could not imagine going for so long with the Observers’ comforting presence in her mind.

  Kaeso entered the control room and approached her. She still remembered her natural body’s weakened physical response to his proximity. She did not look back on it with emotion, as she would have if she wasn’t a golem. It was a memory now, with no regrets or opinions. Her purpose was to serve the Observers. Kaeso, along with Lucia, Claudia, and now Varo, were instruments that served different purposes.

  She turned to Kaeso. “Are the legions ready?”

  She could have asked him this with her mind, and he could have communicated with her from the legion decks spread throughout the ship. But she found it pleasing to use her voice, and he apparently did too. She supposed it was a remnant of their emotional attachments to each other, but the Observers did not object, so she continued to talk as a human would.

  “All loaded into their drones and ready to fly,” Kaeso reported. “I’m going to my drone once we enter Terran space. I wanted to stop here first and wish you the grace of the Observers.”

  Ocella glanced at him and allowed herself a smile. The remnants of their old bodies that the Observers allowed to survive surprised her at times. The Observers were wise beyond all measure, so there must be a reason for it. Her golem mind was not built to fathom the reasons, so she ignored those thoughts.

  “And to you, Kaeso.”

  “See you on Terra.”

  Ocella watched him leave the control room. He seemed to retain more of his natural body’s preferences than she did…except in one instance. Whenever her thoughts turned to Marcus Antonius Cordus, a hollow feeling spread through her body, making it hard for her to concentrate on her true duties. She wondered again at the Observers’ hidden wisdom to allow such thoughts—