Muses of Roma (Codex Antonius Book 1)

by Rob Steiner

  “Did you kill that man?” Cordus asked. When she didn't respond, he asked, “Why did you kill him?”

  “Nobody can know who you are,” Ocella said, scanning the streets. “Even drunk fools.”

  Cordus’s voice quivered. “He was not a fool. He was a Roman soldier. He did not deserve to die in some stinking temple.”

  Ocella pulled the boy into an alley, grabbed his arms and made him face her. “Listen to me. What else needs to happen before you realize this isn’t some play or adventure holo? You have no idea the danger we’re in. You think you do, but you don't. How can you? You've spent your life in a palace being coddled and told how great is your destiny. In the real world people die and are killed for stupid, godsdamned reasons.”

  He stared at her, his eyes glistening. For the first time since this all began, Cordus finally looked like a scared little boy, and not the arrogant Consular Heir.

  Good. He needs to be scared.

  “You didn't have to kill him,” he whispered, and shrugged away from her. “I remembered him. I remember that day with my father when we reviewed the legions. His name was Gaius Vibius. The remains of his arm were bandaged, but he stood at attention as any whole soldier. He looked down at me as I passed and winked. I remember thinking, what courage. This man had lost most of his arm, yet his spirits were high enough to show me he thought nothing of his injury. I thought he was a true Roman.”

  The tears flowed down Cordus's cheeks, but he didn’t sob. “I do not know how he came to such a lowly state, but he did not deserve to die like that.”

  “Nobody deserves to die like that,” Ocella said. “That man—however honorable he might have been—would have bragged about seeing you to his cohorts, who could have told the nearest lictor or Praetorian. He had to be silenced. It's as simple as that.”

  Cordus stared at the ground, tears flowing.

  “You have a good heart, Cordus,” she said. “That's why you should let me worry about these things.”

  He shook his head, and then stalked from the alley. Ocella had no choice but to follow him. “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “To the Mars Trading Fields,” he said. “We meet your contact tonight. I do not want to be late.”

  Hidden in his comment was the message that he wanted to be rid of her company as soon as possible. She was not surprised. She did not like her own company either.

  22

  Kaeso finished reading the same paragraph in the Umbra intelligence report a third time when Lucia entered the command deck. He flicked off his tabulari display and turned to his first officer.

  “The Navigator is ready to disembark,” she reported. “He wants to speak with you before he leaves.”

  Her tone was icy. She was never good at hiding her emotions. Over the last two days she had gone from overt hostility to quiet seething. He considered it progress.

  The clock on his console said it was just after midnight way station time. He rubbed his eyes, stood up and stretched. “Why didn't you call me down with your com?”

  “It's broke and I’m too tired to fix it,” she said, turning toward the ladder. “I'm going to my bunk, unless the Centuriae needs anything else.”

  “No,” Kaeso said as Lucia disappeared down the ladder. “That'll do for tonight.”

  He wasn't sure if she heard him, and he doubted she’d return if he called her back. The whole crew did their jobs admirably, though without their usual spirit considering they wouldn’t see their hard work in action. Blaesus suggested they install cameras so they could see how the ship performed on the mission.

  “I want to ensure my tedious hours of reprogramming way line functions is put to good use,” he said before he retired to his bunk earlier. “And if the Centuriae breaks this ship, we’ll have a record for when we sue him for ruining our livelihoods.”

  Nestor and Flamma were more easygoing, completing without question the tasks Galeo ordered. Kaeso assumed they were not as upset with staying on Libertus as the other crew.

  But Kaeso knew they were worried about him and Dariya.

  Nestor had gone over the delta sleep procedures so many times that Kaeso wondered if the Greek medicus thought he was an idiot. Nestor had documented every step for each procedure—down to the color of the buttons he had to push—and had fastened a paper note to Kaeso's console on the command deck telling him where to find the procedures in the tabulari.

  Flamma placed three large boxes of his latest hardware innovations in Kaeso's already cramped bunk. Kaeso had no idea what most of the gadgets did, but Flamma insisted they could someday save his life. Kaeso assured Flamma that he would make good use of the gadgets if he ever fought arena golems. The young Egyptian scowled at Kaeso's attempted humor and then proceeded to go over how each device worked.

  Even Daryush had given Kaeso a ragged little doll, the wear and stains making it difficult to determine if it was a boy or a girl. In Daryush's broken Latin and hand gestures, he explained it was a good luck charm his parents gave him when he was a child, just before he and Dariya were sold to the Roman patrician they served most of their lives. Kaeso was honored by the gift since it was obviously valuable to Daryush, but he couldn’t promise he’d wear it around his neck at all times like the large Persian wanted.

  Kaeso descended the ladder to the cargo deck. Galeo waited near the connector hatch, and nodded to Kaeso.

  “All finished,” he said. “We’ll test the drive tomorrow. I have no doubt you’ll be impressed.”

  “No doubt.”

  “Your crew were more than competent. You could use their help on Terra.”

  Kaeso rubbed his eyes. “I’m not going to—”

  “Yes, yes, you don't want to put them in any more danger than you already have. But I get the impression they’re used to danger. Kaeso, they would follow you to Hades if you asked them. A centuriae should never discount that kind of loyalty. Or abandon it.”

  “If this mission goes well—and I get what I want—I won't be a centuriae anymore.”

  Galeo regarded him, and acted as if he wanted to say something.

  “What?” Kaeso asked.

  “I heard from the Magisterium a few hours ago. They won’t let you back into Umbra.”

  Kaeso looked at him. “Just like that?”

  “You knew your reinstatement would be a hard sell. If it’s any consolation, the decision was split.”

  “Who voted against me?”

  Galeo gave him a sideways smile. “Let’s just say you have allies who want you back in the family, but there’s nothing they can do about it now.”

  “Why tell me this? You’re a Vessel. Are you admitting there’s disagreement among the Muses about me?”

  Galeo’s cloak-projected gray eyes stared at Kaeso as if willing him to take one more mental leap to the truth.

  Before Kaeso could ask another question, a distant rumble came from the connector tube, growing stronger and louder by the moment. Kaeso looked at the console screen. The outer camera trembled that showed the way station corridor. People ran in every direction, knocking over vendor stands and trampling each other. In the distance, down the vast corridor, an orange light grew larger.

  Fire. The way station atmosphere was burning.

  Kaeso leaped toward the console and slammed the button that closed Caduceus’s connector hatch. The door began to slide closed, but too slowly.

  “Gods…” Galeo breathed, staring at the outer camera display.

  Kaeso ignored him. The rumbling grew to a roar, and the air in Caduceus rushed out through the closing hatch, feeding the fire racing toward them at the speed of sound. Just as the hatch closed and sealed itself, the fire exploded into the connector tube and slammed into Caduceus's hatch. The whole ship buckled, knocking Kaeso into the metal walls. Kaeso rolled into the middle of the corridor, trying to stay away from the bulkhead. Galeo did the same.

  Kaeso tapped his collar com. “Lucia, what's happening?” He remembered her com didn’t work, so he called,
“Nestor!”

  No response. “Any crew respond!”

  Silence.

  Galeo’s eyes stared at the floor, then he looked at Kaeso. Kaeso had not known many Vessels during his time with Umbra, but the ones he knew were always calm, always in control, for the Muses knew what was happening in any location another Vessel was present.

  So the abject horror on Galeo’s face made Kaeso more frightened than he'd ever been in his life.

  “What’s happening?” Kaeso asked Galeo. The ship jumped again, tossing Kaeso and Galeo almost a foot off the floor.

  When they steadied themselves, Galeo said, “I don't know.”

  “If this is more of your Vessel secrets—”

  “You don't understand,” Galeo cried. “I don't know what is happening. They're not talking to me.”

  Kaeso grabbed Galeo’s arm. He pulled the stunned Vessel toward the command deck ladder. Galeo climbed without protest.

  When they reached the quarters deck, they almost ran into Lucia who dove for the ladder rungs as another shockwave slammed into the ship. She wore a sleep tunic and no pants.

  “Are we under attack?” she asked.

  Before Kaeso could respond, Blaesus, Flamma, Daryush, and Nestor filled the corridor with the same questions.

  “Get to your delta couches,” Kaeso yelled above the din as he climbed the ladder to the command deck.

  They all got in line at the ladder to rush to their couches, Nestor and Lucia followed Kaeso and Galeo to the command deck, while Blaesus, Flamma, and Daryush descended to the engine room and cargo bays.

  On the command deck, Kaeso strapped himself into his couch. Lucia jumped into the pilot's couch, while Nestor secured himself at the delta sleep controls. Galeo slumped into a passenger couch behind Nestor.

  “Talk to me, Lucia,” Kaeso said.

  “There are multiple fires on the way station...blessed Juno...a quarter of the outer ring is gone.”

  “Is the gap near us?”

  “No. Maybe a mile to our port.”

  “Disengage the connector.”

  Lucia moved a few sliders on her console and then cursed. “It's locked from the way station side.”

  “Cac,” Kaeso swore. He thumbed the internal ship's intercom. “Blaesus, Flamma.” Kaeso's voice echoed through the ship over the internal speakers behind him. “Our coms aren't working, so listen up. The connector to the way station won't disengage. One of you has to blow the emergency locks at the hatch console. There's an intercom at the console, so yell back to acknowledge.”

  Kaeso waited a few agonizing seconds as explosive waves shook Caduceus so hard that he wondered if the ship would break free from the way station before they could undock.

  “Blaesus here, Centuriae,” the old senator's voice resounded through the ship. “We're at the hatch console and about to blow the connectors.”

  Orange light outside the command window caught Kaeso’s eye. He looked up to see a large tear in the way station's wheel fuselage rending its way toward Caduceus. Fire, debris, and bodies erupted from the tear.

  “Now, Blaesus!”

  “It's done, we're free,” Blaesus shouted.

  There was momentary weightlessness as Caduceus disengaged from the gravity generators of the way station, and then weight returned when the ship's grav came on. As soon as the ship was free, the violent shockwaves stopped, and the ship floated away from the doomed way station.

  “Get us out of here, Lucia.”

  “Working on it.”

  The ship's thrusters turned Caduceus’s nose up ninety degrees. The ion drives kicked in and the ship shot upward just as the tear consumed the connector tube where the Caduceus had been docked. The view out the command deck was space and stars, but a haze of metal shards slammed against the hull, sending loud pings shooting up and down the ship.

  “We're clear of the way station, sir.” She studied her console. “Some wreckage punctured the hull.”

  “Did repair foam plug the holes?” Kaeso asked.

  “Yes, but I can't tell if any systems were dam—”

  Proximity alarms blasted from the consoles. A large freighter appeared in front of them from the starboard side, its cargo containers reflecting a hellish orange light from the flaming way station behind them.

  “Cac!” Lucia yelled. She slammed the controls on her console in a violent pitch to the port side, a move the ship's aging inertia cancelers failed to negate completely. The momentum flung Kaeso's body against his couch's restraints so hard that he feared he'd broken some ribs.

  The freighter disappeared from view to be replaced by another fleeing ship, this one a passenger liner. Lucia slammed the controls again, weaving below the liner, and then around several cargo ships the size of Caduceus.

  “Too many,” Lucia grunted after another violent maneuver. Every other ship connected to the way station was trying to escape without way station control to guide them. There could be hundreds of ships out there, all fleeing at the same time in multiple directions.

  A brilliant flash filled the command deck windows as a private yacht slammed into the middle of the passenger liner. The huge liner seemed to absorb the impact, but then tears spiderwebbed along its hull, and the liner broke in two. Flotsam and bodies spilled from the two sections.

  “Stay away from the way line,” Kaeso said. “Everyone else is going there.”

  “Not everyone,” Lucia yelled. “Too many ships have the same idea we do.”

  Another white light erupted on their port side. After the command deck's windows dimmed to compensate, Kaeso searched for the light source. The region near the way line was clogged with ships trying to enter from all directions rather than the single, orderly line procedure mandated. But the ships that were once right in front of the way line were gone.

  Another light erupted from the way line, and Kaeso had to look away. After blinking away the spots before his eyes, he saw that another layer of fleeing ships had turned to vapor. The ships making for the way line veered away, many of them colliding with each other.

  “Lucia, get a reading on those blasts.”

  Lucia moved some sliders on her console. “Antimatter plasma.”

  Bile rose in Kaeso’s throat. Someone was clearing the way line entrance with antimatter drones. Libertus was about to be invaded.

  “Two Roman Eagles just jumped out of the way line!” Lucia yelled. “Make that four...eight...gods, it's a whole battle group.”

  Kaeso’s console showed twenty Eagles and two Imperium carriers materialize from the way line. From the Roman Imperium ships, dozens of Pinnace fighters shot out to take on the limping survivors fleeing the two antimatter explosions. The beacons from the running civilian ships began winking out.

  “They're slaughtering civilians,” Nestor exclaimed.

  “They're eliminating anyone who can give away their numbers,” Kaeso replied grimly. “Which will be us if we don't get out of this system now.”

  “The way line’s blocked,” Lucia said, “and we can’t outrun a shuttle, much less an Eagle. They'll get us sooner or later.” She slammed her hand on the console. “Where are the godsdamned Liberti? You'd think they'd have defense patrols around their own way line. It’s their damned home world!”

  Even more disturbing, where's Umbra? He turned his couch around to Galeo. The once proud and confident Vessel was slumped in his couch, despair and shock on his face.

  “We need your engines, Navigator,” Kaeso said. “Navigator!”

  The man closed his eyes, shook his head. “They're gone,” he said with a half-sob. “I can't feel them anymore.”

  “What's he talking about?” Lucia asked.

  Kaeso unbuckled himself, jumped up, and unbuckled Galeo. He half-dragged the Umbra Vessel out of the command deck and made him climb the ladder down to the crew quarters. Once on the crew deck, he turned the man around and slammed him against the bulkhead. Galeo continued to stare past Kaeso, his eyes wide and darting.

  “We need
those engines or we all die,” Kaeso said. “How do we run them?”

  Galeo closed his eyes and began to cry. Kaeso slapped him once across the face. Galeo opened his eyes, and Kaeso was relieved to see anger there.

  “How do we run the engines?” Kaeso asked again.

  Galeo blinked away his tears and set his jaw. “You can't run them from the command deck. I haven't set up the automated systems yet. We have to engage them from the engine room.”

  “Then do it,” Kaeso ordered. “Daryush is in a delta couch down there. He'll help you if you need it. Can you do this?”

  Galeo gave a shaky sigh and then nodded his head. He turned around and descended the ladder to the engine room.

  When Kaeso returned to the command deck, Lucia said, “We've got two Eagles headed our way. They'll be in missile range in fifteen minutes.”

  Kaeso buckled himself back into the couch and then thumbed the intercom. “Engine room, you have less than fifteen minutes to get those way line engines up.”

  To Kaeso's surprise, his collar com chimed. His elation over the com system working again melted when he heard the shock in Blaesus’s voice. “Centuriae, we have a casualty.”

  “Flamma?”

  “That dear, stupid boy...” Blaesus's voice choked. Nestor jumped from his couch and hurried to the ladder, practically sliding down. “He hurt himself trying to save me during your maneuvers. I don't know if he's alive.”

  Lucia's brow furrowed and her teeth clenched.

  “Nestor's on his way,” Kaeso said. “Keep me informed.” He turned to Lucia. “You worry about those Eagles. Understand?”

  She nodded slowly. “Yes, sir.”

  Kaeso’s console showed the Eagles closing fast. There were six other ships following Caduceus, four freighters, a passenger liner, and the massive cargo hauler Caduceus passed during their initial escape. Kaeso watched as an Eagle shot six missiles at the cargo hauler. A minute later, the hauler's beacon winked out.