Muses of Roma (Codex Antonius Book 1)

by Rob Steiner

  “It occurred to us. Either way, we had to be sure, so we sent an extraction Ancile to find out.”

  When Galeo paused, Kaeso asked, “Well?”

  “According to the extraction Ancile, the Consular did want to defect. No tricks.”

  Kaeso shook his head. “I still don't buy it. I worked in Roma almost my entire service with Umbra. You know the missions I took. The Consulars are worshiped like gods, which they think they are. Never heard of one that didn't. How did your Ancile verify this wasn’t all cac?”

  “Operational secret.”

  Kaeso laughed. “How am I supposed to help you if you won’t tell me anything?”

  “Let’s just say it was good enough for the Magisterium to order the Ancile to extract the Consular.”

  “So what happened?”

  Galeo turned back to the glass. “Something went wrong. Last month our Ancilia in Roma, and all across Terra, were rolled up. At first we lost communication. Then their implants went nil.”

  Kaeso gritted his teeth. Nil implants meant death, for only Umbra Vessels infected with the sentient Muses could disable active implants without causing death to the implanted.

  “How many?” Kaeso asked.

  “All of them.”

  All of them. There were over two hundred Ancilia in Roma when he was in Umbra ten years ago. If every Ancile was rolled, Umbra and Libertus were blind to Roman activities and plans. Libertus didn’t have hosts of Legions or fleets of warships like Roma. It relied on Umbra Corps’ ultra-clandestine tools to neutralize any threats. Those threats were dealt with subtly, using everything from the fear of Liberti “numina” to political sabotage by well-placed Ancilia in the Roman government and targeted assassinations. The small military of Libertus kept the larger empires from seeing it as a threat. With its economic and cultural growth over the last fifty years, however, Libertus was now de facto leader of the Lost Worlds and a gem for expansionist empires. Only two things kept the empires from invading: fear of angering the other empires, and fear of the legendary—and Umbra-invented—Liberti numina.

  But if all the Umbra Ancilia on Terra had been killed, Libertus was defenseless against the Romans.

  A young girl’s face danced through his memories, a face he tried hard to forget every day lest the pain destroy him.

  “All of them,” Galeo continued, “except one. The extraction Ancile. Her last transmission said she had contacted the Consular who wanted to defect. She said he had a secret that could bring down the Roman Republic.”

  Kaeso gave a weary chuckle. “How many times have we heard a Roman defector promise that?”

  “She also said the Romans know what the Muses are, and this defector has information about a cure Roma is developing against them.”

  Kaeso wanted to laugh again, but then it made sense. How else could the Romans have captured every Ancile on Terra without knowing the Muses exist? The technology the Muses gave Libertus was in many cases decades, if not centuries, ahead of any other world or empire in human space.

  If the Romans knew the greatest ally of Libertus was a sentient alien virus Umbra called the Muses, and Roma developed a weapon against them, then Libertus would lose its only means to defend itself.

  “These are extraordinary claims,” Kaeso said. “Starting with the defection of a Consular and ending with the fact this extraction Ancile seems to be the only Umbra Ancile to survive the roll-up. How convenient for her.”

  “Not necessarily. Last week we lost all communication with her implant.”

  “She went nil?”

  “No nil transmission. Silence.”

  One impossibility piled on top of the other. Implants were virtually indestructible. Even if the Ancile fell into a star, the implant would still transmit a nil signal before it went off-line. Only a Muse-infected Umbra Vessel could disable an Ancile’s implant.

  What happened to the universe since I left Umbra?

  “I know what I've told you so far is hard to believe,” Galeo said, “but there's more.”

  “Of course there is.”

  “The extraction Ancile is the last Ancile in Roma. First, we need to find out if she betrayed us. Second, we need to know if her claims of a Consular defector are true. That’s where you come in, my friend.”

  “Why me? Again, I'm a former Ancile. I'm sure you have plenty of young bulls itching to get into Roma.”

  “Of course we do. In fact, we sent some in the day after we last heard from our extraction Ancile. Their implants went nil as soon as they landed on Roma.”

  “So the Magisterium wants to kill me, too? I may not have a glamorous life, but I prefer to keep it.”

  Galeo smiled. “We have a theory. Since Roma can now detect active implants, it would be unwise to send more Umbra Ancilia until we've figured out how their new tech works. So we need to send someone who doesn’t have an active implant, yet knows his way around Roma and is acquainted with Umbra protocols.”

  “Ah, and my name was at the top of the list?”

  “More like the bottom. Every other retiree above you was either too old or turned us down.”

  “Yeah.”

  “There’s another reason we want you to go. The extraction Ancile is Marcia Licinius Ocella.”

  Kaeso shrugged. “Should I know that name?”

  “Probably not. It’s the name Umbra gave her when she entered the Corps.” Galeo paused. “You’d remember her as ‘Spuria’.”

  Spuria.

  My dead wife’s sis—?

  Kaeso’s deactivated implant could not have driven the wind out of him as much as that name. Memories unbidden exploded in his mind, memories of a life before Umbra. His relationship with Spuria, their break-up, and then falling in love with Petra. His beloved Petra, and their beautiful daughter Claudia. Their happiness.

  Then Petra’s violent death. Kaeso's near madness over the loss. His emotional neglect of his own daughter. His failure as a father.

  Kaeso didn't realize he was on his knees until Galeo helped him up.

  “I'm sorry, old friend,” Galeo said. “I knew this would be hard for you. It always is with us.”

  Kaeso waved him away. “I'm fine,” he grunted. “I'll be fine.”

  But Kaeso knew he would not be fine. The implant, even when dormant, protected him from the memories before Umbra. It enabled him to adjust to his new life outside Umbra, made it easier for all Umbra retirees to avoid contacting former friends and family. All Umbra Ancilia had to “die” to every person in their former lives when they joined the Corps. The Corps even arranged funerals with golem bodies to give family and friends closure. Such was the price to join an ultra-secret agency unknown to everyone save the Liberti Consul and select members of the Liberti Defense Force. Not even the Liberti Senate knew Umbra existed.

  His family thought he was dead, and dead men do not show up on their family’s doorstep without drawing attention. That was why the implants clouded the memories of former lives. For the Ancile’s own protection. It worked well.

  Until a name or place triggered the memories, and brought them back full force. The concealment protocols in Kaeso’s implant prevented him from contacting his family, but now, remembering Spuria’s name—Ocella!—all the memories and guilt from before Umbra were now a crushing weight he struggled to hold up.

  “For what it's worth,” Galeo said, “I argued against bringing you in for exactly this reason, but the Magisterium decided this mission was too important.”

  “What is the mission?” Kaeso asked. Need something else in my head besides my daughter's face from the last time I saw her. When she told me she hated me.

  Galeo eyed him, as if waiting to see if he would crack under rediscovered memories. Kaeso stood straight, his chin level.

  Galeo sighed. “You were among the best Umbra had, you know Roma, and you know Ocella. The Magisterium wants you to infiltrate Roma and find Ocella. Bring her out, along with this Consular defector, if he exists.”

  “If she's turn
ed?”

  “Terminate her.”

  Kaeso nodded, expecting as much. “I accept the mission.”

  Galeo raised an eyebrow. “That was quick. Your price?”

  Kaeso managed a weak smile through the memories assaulting him. “Three things. One, cure my infected crewman.”

  “You know we don't have a cure for the Cariosus. It's a Muse strain, and they're sure as Hades not going to tell us if one exists. Even if we wanted to develop a cure from your crewman’s blood, it could take months, if at all.”

  “We could keep her in a sleeper crib until you develop one.”

  “Kaeso, the Muses would never allow Umbra to work on a cure. They would sooner let the Romans wipe us out than help us find a way to kill them. Your only hope for your crewman is the Consular defector, because a Muse-strain cure will never come from Umbra.”

  Kaeso nodded, assuming that would be the answer. Still, he had to try. He did not like that Dariya's life hung on the word of a Roman traitor.

  “Two, I want Liberti citizenship for my crew.”

  “Your crew is made up of Roman fugitives. Escaped slaves, Legion deserters, extortionists...shall I continue?”

  “Liberti citizenship will protect them from extradition and keep them from being arrested if they wander back into Roman territory. You know you can make this happen.”

  “Fine,” Galeo said. “Next?”

  “I want back into Umbra.”

  Galeo smiled. “I think a cure for the Cariosus would be easier.”

  “If I can bring back Ocella and this defector, then that's got to be worth something to the Magisterium. At least enough for them to ignore me making a corrupt senior Ancile nervous.”

  Galeo winced. Kaeso never found out who had him “relieved” of his duties, but Galeo, his handler, must have known. Kaeso had been investigating a slave trafficking network from the Lost Worlds to Roma, and was close to learning the name of the Ancile who ran the network. Then he was suddenly accused of the crime he was investigating. All the evidence he had passed along to Umbra somehow pointed to him, and he was dishonorably discharged from Umbra. Those in Umbra who knew him well, like Galeo, knew he'd been framed, but their implants prevented them from helping Kaeso. Which confirmed to Kaeso the framer was a senior Ancile.

  “You will never get back into Umbra,” Galeo said. “For argument's sake, let's say what you believe is true, that a senior Ancile set you up. Do you think that Ancile will allow you back in, only to have you discover his name?”

  Kaeso didn't think Galeo would agree to Umbra reinstatement. He would’ve been suspicious if Galeo had, but Kaeso had planted a seed that Galeo would take back to his superiors. If Kaeso completed this mission, the Magisterium might see what they lost when they let him go. Maybe his reinstatement would be more valuable to them than the senior Ancile they protected. Particularly since it sounded like the entire Umbra presence on Roma needed rebuilding from the ground up.

  “Fine, at least citizenship for my crew. Deal?”

  Galeo nodded. “It can be arranged.”

  “And suggest the reinstatement, would you?”

  “I will, but it's never going to happen. Besides, why do you want back in? I would’ve thought you'd be a little bitter.”

  “I suppose I'm a patriot and a fool.”

  “Nobody's that foolish, or patriotic. Tell me why and I'll consider passing along your request.”

  Kaeso glanced around the corridor, noticed a hairline crack in a ventilation pipe that ran into the cargo bays. One more repair to add to the list.

  “I'm not a good centuriae,” Kaeso said, “but I was a good Ancile.”

  Galeo nodded, understanding in his cloak-rendered eyes. Yes, the cloaks are much better than when I was in. The things I could do with these new tools.

  “I'll ask some questions,” Galeo said, “but I wouldn't sell your ship just yet. So if by the grace of Juno you do get back in, what will you tell your crew?”

  “Not your concern.”

  It was true, but he didn’t explain it to Galeo because he had no idea what he'd tell his crew if Umbra reinstated him. Whatever he told them, he knew they deserved a better centuriae than him. One who wouldn't risk their lives with dangerous jobs just to keep flying.

  Galeo nodded. “Very well, we’ll bring over a sleeper crib for your crewman and way line plasma for your ship. We will escort you back to Libertus where your ship will go through some minor upgrades.”

  “'Minor upgrades?’”

  Galeo smiled. “Well, not so minor, but I think you'll enjoy them. They'll get you into and out of Roma a lot easier.”

  “Wait, you want me to take Caduceus to Roma?”

  “And your crew. You will infiltrate Roma as a licensed courier from Libertus.”

  “No way. I just told you, my crew are wanted in Roman space.”

  “We'll give them credentials and gene coatings to match. The gene coatings won't fake a blood test, but they will fool any skin scan they'll get at customs.”

  “I said no. I can’t ask them to do that. I’ll go in alone like I always did.”

  “How will you extract Marcia Licinius or the defector? With what ship? Every Ancile on Roma is gone. You’ll have no contacts there to arrange transport. You’ll need a ship, and you’ll need one with the upgrades we’ll give yours.”

  A cold weight formed in Kaeso's stomach as he realized Galeo was right. He'd never done an extraction. Umbra had always sent him in to make sure certain Romans never left.

  But he could not put his crew in such danger. Not again.

  “I still have non-Umbra contacts there,” Kaeso said. “I can work something out.”

  “How do you know they're still alive? If Roma killed our Ancilia, what makes you think they missed your contacts?”

  “Why them?” Kaeso asked “Why not Liberti security forces? I'm sure they have undercover agents they could loan us.”

  “None who are ready to go in time, or who know your ship’s systems. Gods, Caduceus is 80 years old. Your crew knows the ship and works well together. You cannot fake that kind of familiarity or teamwork, especially in front of a curious Roman customs official.”

  Kaeso clenched his teeth. “Don't patronize me. You can just tell me we’re expendable.”

  Galeo frowned, but didn't say anything.

  “I don't know if I can get them to go,” Kaeso said.

  “You'll think of something. Or you won’t get what you want.” Galeo paused. “It was good seeing you again, old friend. I'm sorry for opening old wounds.”

  Kaeso was silent. It was all he could do to keep those old wounds from tearing him apart.

  Galeo nodded to him one more time and then disappeared.

  Kaeso peered through the docking hatch window. An Ancile in a pressure suit, with a gold faceplate masking the Ancile’s identity, pushed a motorized lift with a sleeper crib and several way line plasma canisters. Kaeso tapped a button on his console, and the docking hatch opened with a hiss. The Ancile pushed the lift through the hatch and then turned back to the Umbra ship.

  “We can keep the lift?” Kaeso called out.

  The Ancile didn't acknowledge him. Kaeso shrugged, then tapped his collar com. “Attention all crew, meet in cargo hold corridor.”

  13

  Kaeso's crew stood in the corridor between the cargo bays. Except for Dariya, who stood next to the glass in Cargo One, listening over the com. Kaeso's implant allowed him to tell his crew Libertus wanted them to go to Roma to extract a noble defector who knew how to cure the Cariosus. The reward would be Liberti citizenship and a possible cure for Dariya. He could not say the noble was a Consular with an alleged secret that could “bring down the Roman Republic,” and he certainly could not reveal the facts about Umbra or Ocella.

  They took the news better than he thought they would—they didn’t mutiny and throw him out the airlock. Instead, they all stared at him as if he said he saw Mercury streak past the command deck window.

 
Blaesus said, “I would rather kiss Bacchus’s soggy ass than return to Roman space.”

  “It is Liberti citizenship,” Nestor said. “That is quite valuable.”

  “Not if I'm crucified before I get it, which will happen to us all if we’re caught in Roman territory. Except you, Flamma. You'll be tackled down and married to the first noble adolescent whose father used to be a fan.”

  Flamma grimaced.

  “Why us?” Lucia asked Kaeso. “Doesn't Libertus have its own security forces for this?”

  “Exactly,” Blaesus said. “I don’t doubt the bravery of you all, but none of us are trained for this.”

  “He's right, sir,” Lucia said. “We’ll be caught for sure.”

  “I agree,” Kaeso said, “you’re not trained for this. That's why you're not going.”

  Lucia narrowed her eyes. “You're going alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re joking,” Lucia said. “You can’t even pilot this ship on your own, much less go to Roma by yourself.”

  “Once we reach Libertus, they will add automated system controls to Caduceus. I will run the ship just fine from the command deck. And thanks for your confidence in my piloting skills, Trierarch.”

  “But you’re not even trained for this,” Lucia protested. “Commanding a shuttle in the Liberti Defense Force doesn’t make you a spy.”

  Kaeso clenched his teeth against the warning pains from his implant.

  Thankfully, Dariya interrupted Lucia. “Will it not seem odd if you dock at a Terran way station without a crew?”

  “My credentials will show I just bought the ship, and I’m going to Terra to hire a new crew.”

  Lucia laughed. “Your credentials? I suppose our Liberti friends will give you those as well?”

  “Yes.”

  Blaesus cleared his throat. “Your paperwork may be in order, but out of curiosity, Centuriae, how will you get through the gene identity scans at customs? We Romans love our Terran security.”

  “Libertus will give me a gene coat,” Kaeso said.

  “Gene coat?” Nestor asked.

  “A layer of fake skin that masks genes from external scans. They'll get me past any gene scanner in a Roman port.”