by Rob Steiner
Lucia asked, “What about the cancellation fee from Vallutus?”
“It’ll cover the cost of raptor gizzards, but not way station docking fees.”
Blaesus took a sip of wine. “Vallutus can't be the only 'collector' wanting to pilfer Menota.”
“He's not,” Kaeso said, “but we don't have time to find another one. It took weeks to build enough trust with Vallutus so he was satisfied we weren't undercover Roman agents. It’ll take that much longer now that Libertus is watching Menota.”
The crew thought quietly for almost a minute.
Flamma broke the silence. “The patrician lady who introduced us to Vallutus. Maybe she's a collector?”
Blaesus snorted. “Old Barbata may be a collector, but she doesn’t have the money to pay for our services. She gambled and drank away her family's fortune and had to flee Roma in disgrace. All she has now are contacts with people who’d rather not hear from her.”
Flamma grinned. “Sounds familiar, eh, Senator?”
Blaesus slammed his wine cup on the table, some of it sloshing over the top. He glared at Flamma, nostrils flaring. “Just what are you implying, gladiator?”
Flamma's grin faded. “Calm down, I was just joking.”
“Well your wit is as flaccid as your sword arm. Or other parts of your anatomy, if the gossip columnists were right.”
Flamma jumped up, his lanky frame towering over Blaesus.
“Flamma, sit down,” Kaeso said. “Blaesus, stop drinking.”
Flamma eased back into his seat, eying Blaesus venomously. Blaesus smiled at Flamma, then gave Kaeso an exaggerated salute, a fist to the chest and then a straight arm. “As you wish, Centuriae.”
“Is there anyone else who could finance a landing on Menota?” Kaeso asked.
Blaesus gave a lopsided grin. “The only ones I know won’t return my calls.” He eyed Flamma again, and then took a drink.
“Fine,” Kaeso said. “Then if nobody else has a better idea, I say we go to Menota anyway. Without a patron.”
Now the crew stared at him, shocked. Kaeso didn't look at Lucia, but he knew her officer's reserve struggled to keep her face calm.
As Kaeso expected, Blaesus spoke first. “I applaud you, Centuriae. Your oratory skills are improving. You give us a picture of our dire situation and led us to consider ideas that would never work. Once we realize how neck-deep in cac we are, you throw out the plan you wanted all along. Now that we're good and desperate, you think we'll jump at it. Well done, Centuriae.”
“Thank you.”
“Just one question: how does the Centuriae propose we land on Menota? Keep in mind we don’t have a patron to loan us the money to bribe the Roman sentries.”
“We use what's left in the Caduceus's reserves, along with Vallutus’s cancellation fee.”
Nestor cleared his throat. “Centuriae, we still need the raptor gizzards for—”
“We'll get those when we come back.”
Nestor paled. “Centuriae, we cannot—!”
“Nestor, Zhonguo ships and ships from a dozen other agnostic worlds zip around the universe without raptor gizzards, and they don't get lost. I think the gods will forgive us for this one trip. If it makes you feel any better, we'll sacrifice some extra gizzards on our next voyage.”
“No, sir, it does not make me feel better. All it takes is one unholy way line jump into oblivion and there will not be a ‘next voyage’.”
Lucia said, “And there won't be a ‘next voyage’ if we don't get the money for these bribes.”
“Granted,” Blaesus said, “the raptor sacrifice is, um, a tradition we can do without—”
“It is more than tradition,” Nestor said. “It is our petition to the gods for—”
“—But we don’t have the coordinates Vallutus was going to give us. I know the vaults’ approximate location on Menota, but not precisely. Menota has a lot of landmass on which we could get lost.”
“Make an educated guess,” Kaeso said.
“Ha, an educated guess, he says. If I’m wrong, we could wander the radioactive ruins for days. The Roman sentries will not give us days, even if they are well-bribed.”
“When are you ever wrong, Blaesus?” Kaeso asked.
Blaesus laughed. “Centuriae, you’re making me look bad. If I wasn't so drunk, I’d easily avoid all your oratory traps. Very well, before you humiliate me again, I accept your challenge and will endeavor to make an ‘educated guess’ regarding the vaults’ location. May the gods have mercy on us all.”
Kaeso looked at the rest of the crew. “This is a dangerous job. We’ll be dodging Roman sentries and the Cariosus plague. Possibly Liberti security of the human variety.” He eyed Nestor.
“So I’m going with or without you,” Kaeso said. “Because I’ve nowhere else to go. I’ve never asked for a vote on jobs, and I'm not starting now. But you’re not slaves or indentured servants. Only freedmen on this ship. So if this job isn’t for you, you're welcome to sit it out. No hard feelings.”
Kaeso paused, giving them a chance to get up and leave, or give him better ideas. No one moved or spoke.
“What say you?”
After a silent moment, Lucia said, “I will go, Centuriae.”
Kaeso turned and nodded to her, though she kept her arms folded with an uncertain air.
“Of course I'm going,” Blaesus said. “The promise of riches and adventure is what lured me to this crew in the first place. Flamma, stop giving me that sour face and put your lot in with us. I couldn't bear a voyage with no one to debate the merits of empire versus republic.”
Flamma stared at Blaesus and then shrugged. “Fine, old man.”
Dariya said, “We will go, too. We are not afraid, eh, 'Ush?”
Daryush nodded his shaved head vigorously.
Kaeso looked at Nestor. “We need a medicus. We can operate the delta sleep and figure out the clean suits on our own, but if something goes wrong...”
Nestor sighed. “Centuriae, once again, we cannot perform a way line jump without the proper rituals.” Then he winced. “But I suppose the frozen chickens in the freezers would perhaps appease the gods. Just this once.”
Kaeso grinned. “Good. Dariya, how’s the grav generator?”
“I opened the compartment without too much damage,” she said. Glancing at Daryush, she added, “We should have it done within the hour.”
“Then we leave in six hours as scheduled. Thank you all.”
Lucia waited until the crew filed out, shut the galley hatch, and then turned to Kaeso. “Centuriae, I think this job is a bad idea.”
“Of course it is, but it's the only choice we have. The money on Menota will keep us flying for years. All we have to do is go down and take it.”
“Sir, I understand that, but there are acceptable risks and insane risks. In my opinion, this falls under the latter.”
“Opinion noted. Anything else?”
She frowned. “The Liberti numina are real.”
Kaeso closed his eyes. “Lucia, I've told you—”
“I saw one.”
Impossible, Kaeso thought. “What did you see?”
Her gaze dropped to the floor, as if embarrassed at what she was about to say. “Before the Kaldethi Rebellion blew up, my century was ordered to surround the Libertus embassy on Kaldeth to prevent any dissidents from defecting. One night a Kaldethi mob tried to get a dissident flamen into the embassy. My century formed ranks to stop them. The mob threw rocks and firebombs at us. We returned fire. We killed many.”
She stopped, gathering her thoughts. “Then the centurion next to me grabbed my arm. His...his back was arched in a strange angle. Then a red line opened on his throat, as if by an invisible blade. His blood sprayed on me. Some other soldiers behind him suffered the same fate. Their throats just opened up. The mob saw my men fall and pushed forward. Our pulse rifles couldn’t stop them. They stampeded over us and got the dissidents past the Libertus gates.”
Lucia put her hands in
the pockets of her uniform. “Once the mob passed us, I saw...a figure. It shimmered like a black road on a hot day. I could only see its arms. They were covered in blood. I fired at it, but it ducked behind a building. I never saw it again.”
Kaeso knew he’d have to be careful with what he said next. The pain behind his right ear had started and would make him pay for revealing too much.
“I don't know what you saw,” he said. “It could have been anything. You said yourself it was a dark, chaotic night. Lucia, I promise you; there are no numina.”
Lucia gave a mirthless laugh. “You always say that, yet you never give me proof. How do you know, Centuriae? Please tell me, because I want you to convince me they’re not real.”
A quick stab of pain came from the implant. A warning. Kaeso had no intention of saying anything, but the implant never missed an opportunity to remind him of his vows.
“You're right,” he said. “I’ll never convince you with my words alone. Do you trust me?”
She gave a noncommittal nod.
“Lucia,” he asked again, “do you trust me?”
She looked up at him. “I do.”
“Menota has Cariosus and Roman sentries. That’s it. Look to those two problems. They're big enough, so don’t add mythical creatures to your worry list.”
He knew she wasn't convinced, but she nodded anyway. “Yes, Centuriae.”
She turned and left the galley without another word. Kaeso stared after her. His entire crew had a secret past from which they ran, him included. But at least they could choose whether or not to reveal their secrets. Kaeso had no such luxury. If he revealed what he knew of the “Liberti numina,” his implant would kill him on the spot and the “numina” would track down his crew and silence them to keep Liberti's centuries-old secret.
Because that’s what he did when he was a “numen.”
4
Nestor raised the knife above his head, then brought the serrated point down into the breast of the partially thawed chicken on his sacrificial cutting board.
“Oh, Jupiter Optimus Maximus,” Nestor chanted from his post on the command deck, “we ask your permission to travel through your realm.”
Nestor split open the chicken’s ribcage with a quick, expert motion. He removed the gray, semi-frozen heart and held it above his head.
“Accept this offering,” he said with a wince, “from a beast of flight. If it pleases you, grant us a safe journey through your way lines so we may arrive at Menota.”
Nestor put the heart into a clay bowl and mashed it with a mallet until it was a gray paste. He then sprinkled some powder over it, touched the mixture with a small fire torch, and the sacrifice sparked into flames.
Kaeso suddenly remembered the fire alarm on the command deck, and lunged for the off switch before the noxious smoke could trigger the alarm. Avoiding the shrill warning siren was not his goal. He just didn't want Nestor to waste another good chicken if his ritual was interrupted.
Once the sacrifice had burned away, Nestor nodded to Kaeso and then strapped himself into the delta operator's couch behind Kaeso and Lucia.
“All hands,” Kaeso said into his collar, “perform undocking check.” He turned to Lucia. “Environmental?”
“Connector tube is retracted and entry hatch is secure,” she said, moving her fingers across her tabulari sliders. “Atmospheric and power cables disconnected.”
“Engineering.”
“Grav and inertial cancelers are stable,” Dariya’s voice said from his com. “Thrusters active. Ion drive powering up. Way line drive ready for coordinates.”
“Navigation.”
Lucia said, “Way line coordinates entered, Centuriae. Awaiting way line bearing from Way Station Control.”
“Delta.”
Nestor said, “Delta wave powered up and ready for way line jump.”
“Good,” Kaeso said. “Way Station Control, this is Caduceus requesting permission to undock.”
“Caduceus, Way Station Control,” a voice crackled. “Permission granted. Proceed according to your flight plan to way line jump point.”
“Thank you, Control,” Kaeso said. “Lucia, undock us.”
“Undocking.”
A small shudder rippled through the ship. The Reantium waystation’s docking port shifted and turned sideways outside the command deck window. Caduceus's thrusters backed the ship away from the way station, then Lucia pointed the ship’s nose down 90 degrees from their original position.
“Hope Dariya’s repairs worked,” Lucia muttered and then tapped the ion drive slider on her tabulari. The ship blasted forward beneath the waystation’s gray, rocky surface.
“She did something right,” Kaeso said. “We're not stains on the wall.”
Lucia grunted as she moved a slider farther up to increase the ship’s speed.
Kaeso watched out the window. This was his favorite part. Most space travel was spent in unimaginable emptiness. But this moment, when Caduceus left a way station, he could see a star ship’s fantastic speeds with his eyes. The gauges told him the ship’s velocity, but to see the twelve-mile wide way station literally disappear from view…well, it amazed Kaeso every time.
“Wayline jump point in seven minutes, sir,” Lucia said.
Kaeso tapped his collar com. “All crew, prepare for way line jump.”
Outside the window, Kaeso saw other starships lined up at the way line jump point. He counted six ships ahead of them. They all varied in size and shape, depending on the world or nation from which they originated. One ship had the shape of a gliding eagle, the classic Roman design. While the eagle-like wingspan was of little use in the vacuum of space, Romans liked the design’s symbolism. Caduceus, on the other hand, was a Mercury-class gray ovoid with four engine cones protruding from the rear. About as ugly as ships came, but made of solid Liberti engineering. She was old before Kaeso was born, but she’d be flying longer than the “throwaway” Roman bird in the way line queue.
A large freighter, perhaps two miles long, floated at the column’s head. It was not a design Kaeso recognized. It seemed patched together from pieces of other ships. Its engines flared; the whole ship stretched forward and then vanished, on to one of three possible terminus points: the Lost Worlds of Acestes, Quiritis, or the dead Roman world Menota.
Kaeso guessed the Lost Worlds, since only fools would defy a Roman and Liberti quarantine.
When he saw a ship ride the way line, sometimes he really thought humanity was traveling through the realm of the gods. Less than a thousand years ago, the fastest mode of transport was either horse or trireme. Now men jumped between stars. If the gods had not given humanity this gift, then perhaps humanity was close to godhood itself? Both options worried Kaeso.
“Way line jump in thirty seconds, sir,” Lucia said.
Kaeso blinked away his musings. “Nestor, engage the delta sleep.”
“Delta sleep engaged.”
Beside Kaeso, Lucia's eyes closed and she settled back into her couch. A small snore escaped her open mouth. He glanced at the delta monitor on his tabulari and saw that only he and Nestor were still awake.
“All crew under delta sleep,” Nestor confirmed. “You now have delta control, Centuriae.”
“Thank you, Nestor,” Kaeso said. “See you in the Menota system.”
Nestor's silence told Kaeso he was either under delta now or still nervous about jumping. Kaeso checked Nestor’s delta readouts. He was safely unconscious.
Kaeso watched the way line countdown. Rather than let the delta systems put him to sleep, he preferred to engage his delta sleep at the last possible moment. While the ship was programmed to enter the jump point on its own—something he could not change without an extreme emergency shutdown—he hated giving up control over his consciousness to the ship.
When the clock ticked down to two seconds, Kaeso engaged his delta sleep. He closed his eyes...
…and then found himself facing the command deck ceiling. His head had falle
n back in the delta couch. He looked out the command window and saw black space and stars. Beside him, Lucia snorted once, then opened her eyes. She blinked several times, then checked her tabulari.
“Way line jump confirmed, Centuriae.”
Nestor exhaled loudly.
“Coming about,” Lucia said.
The stars outside the command window moved to the left, and then Menota’s gray-white outline appeared from the right, filling the window. The planet had once looked like any other settled planet in human space—blue water, brown-green landmasses, and swirling white clouds. Now thick, gray clouds covered the entire world, courtesy of Roman mass drivers. A ring of rocks and metals surrounded the planet, remnants of an ancient moon destroyed by Menota’s gravity millions of years ago.
“Roman patrols?” Kaeso asked Lucia.
“No ships on scope, sir, but two drones hold a position a hundred miles from the way line. And they just shot a courier missile into the way line.”
Kaeso nodded. “No doubt they saw us. The Romans will be here soon enough.”
Nestor asked Lucia, “Any Liberti ships?”
“None. The pact was just announced yesterday, though. Doubt Libertus had time to get ships out here that fast.”
Kaeso said, “The Liberti Defense Force wouldn't be able to muster enough ships in less than a day. I don't think they're here yet.”
Liberti Umbra ships, on the other hand...
A twitch of pain behind his right ear reminded him not to think such things.
Kaeso unstrapped himself from the delta couch and stood. “Lucia, yell if you see any ships. Nestor, let's go get the clean suits ready.”
“Two Roman Eagles just left the way line from behind us,” Lucia said. “Beacons identify them as Corus and Virtus.”
Kaeso went back to his command couch. “Here we go.”
No sooner had he sat down than a voice came over the ship’s com. “Caduceus, this is Roman Eagle Corus,” said a Roman with a Terran accent. “You are in restricted space. You will turn your vessel around and proceed to the way line jump point. Any change in your course and you will be fired upon. Acknowledge.”