Muses of Roma (Codex Antonius Book 1)

by Rob Steiner

Lucia and Nestor did not stir.

  Kaeso tapped the delta controls again. The crew’s delta readouts showed no change. Kaeso clicked his teeth together and reached for the delta release again.

  Ocella's screams from one deck below were animalistic. They could not have come from a human throat. She shrieked in Latin, then Germanic, then an Atlantium language Kaeso did not know. Her shrieks turned to hoots and whistles he remembered from the projector room in the vaults. The language of a dead alien race the Muses had destroyed.

  Kaeso threw off his couch belts, slid down the command deck ladder to the crew deck; his calf wound a distant throbbing. Ocella's screams echoed from the last hatch down the hall. Kaeso rushed to the open hatch and stopped.

  Ocella writhed and kicked against the straps holding her in the couch. Blood flew from her mouth and nose in stringy mucous with each scream and thrash. Sweat drenched her hair. The stench of feces hung in the air. Ocella had the eyes of an animal frightened beyond madness.

  Kaeso rushed in and held Ocella's shoulders to keep her still. “Ocella, fight them!”

  His words had no impact, or if they did, Ocella's mind could not get past the fear and madness of the Muses. His muscles strained against her terrified strength. The straps from the couch bit into her clothes. Bloody streaks formed beneath the yellow prison tunic near her shoulders and trousers where the straps met the buckle between her thighs.

  Kaeso stood above Ocella, holding her. “I won’t leave you, Ocella,” he yelled over the screams. “I won’t leave you.”

  It took Ocella—or the Muses controlling her—almost a half hour to exhaust Ocella's body to the point where she could no longer scream or move. Once she fell into a fitful sleep, Kaeso went to Nestor's medical hatch and grabbed towels, bandages, antiseptic, and wound sealer. He brought the supplies back to Ocella's bunk. Blood no longer streamed from her nose and mouth, but began caking around her cheeks and chin. Kaeso used the wet towels to gently wash her head and neck.

  Once he finished, he considered unbuckling the couch straps. He had to get at the wounds on her shoulders and thighs. After thinking on it, he decided he didn’t want her leaving the couch if she woke up, so he loosened the straps only enough to get at the wounded areas. Ocella did not stir, not even when Kaeso cut open her shirt and trousers to clean, seal, and bandage her wounds. Once he finished, he wrapped the towels around the straps so they wouldn't cut so severely if she woke up again in the same terrified state.

  He hobbled into Nestor's medical lab and pulled up the trouser leg over his wounded calf. He frowned at the swollen, enflamed wound. The last thing he needed was of infection to set in. He searched Nestor's med supplies and found an antibiotic injector. He injected the medicine into his calf, then grabbed another pain killer and injected it in the same place. The sharp throbbing went away.

  On his way back to the deck ladder, he looked in on Blaesus. The Senator’s chest rose and fell in a steady pattern. Kaeso inspected the readouts on Blaesus's couch, which showed normal delta sleep patterns.

  He went down to the engine deck and checked Daryush, Gaia, and Cordus, all three with the same normal delta sleep patterns as Blaesus.

  Kaeso climbed all the way up to the command deck and checked the patterns on both Lucia and Nestor’s couches. Both normal. He sat in his own couch and stared at his console.

  Time ticked by on the chronometer. According to the display, it was an hour since they jumped away from Menota.

  He brought up his nav system readouts again. Just as before, there were no ships in the vicinity. He checked the navigations charts and told the tabulari to calculate the ship’s location. The tabulari came back with “unknown.” This was not unusual, since travel along a new way line could dump a ship in any corner of the universe. But Kaeso had set a specific course to the Saturnist planet Gaia assured him would exist. Kaeso's instruments said there wasn't a planet within the ship’s limited scopes. There wasn't even a star nearby.

  “Fine,” Kaeso muttered to the tabulari, “then where's the nearest star?” He tapped a few keys and then waited for the response.

  The console blinked. Nearest star system: None.

  Kaeso looked out the window. “I can see the godsdamned stars,” he growled.

  If they were between galaxies, he would’ve seen only blackness out the window. But the view showed a multitude of stars as if he were in the middle of a galaxy. The tabulari should have picked up at least one star.

  He entered the instructions again. None.

  Kaeso routed piloting controls from Lucia's console to his and tried engaging the ship's ion engines.

  No response. Not even an error warning. The engines simply did not fire when he moved the acceleration sliders on his console.

  He tried other systems—com, grav control, inertia cancellers, life support—but none responded to his commands. He ran diagnostic after diagnostic, and each one said the systems ran normally.

  So he got up from his command couch and ran the same diagnostics from Lucia's console, standing over her sleeping form as he did so.

  Still no response.

  He descended the ladder to the engine room, stood over Daryush, and ran the diagnostics. All returned normal, yet none of the systems responded to his commands.

  Kaeso walked back to the ladder, climbed up to the command deck, and sat down on his command couch. He stared at his console, wondering what to do.

  Three hours after the jump, Kaeso considered waking his crew without using the delta system. It was dangerous. One possibility was the sleeper wouldn't wake up. Another was the sleeper would wake up, but his higher brain functions would still be shut down. The person would be in a coma for the rest of his life.

  Madness was another danger.

  Like any starship centuriae, Kaeso knew the worst-case scenarios for delta sleep failure. But after working at his console for hours, he realized he’d need more minds to think their way out of this limbo.

  He ground his teeth, stood up from his command couch, and descended the ladder to the crew deck. He walked down the corridor and turned into Blaesus's quarters. The former Senator still slept soundly in his couch. Kaeso stared at him several minutes, gathering the will to doom one of his best friends to a life of madness. Centuriae logic dictated he start with the most expendable crewmember. He needed Lucia, Daryush, and Gaia to run the ship. He needed Nestor in case of medical emergencies. Cordus was obviously too important. And he would not sacrifice Ocella, his only family.

  “Forgive me, Gaius Octavius Blaesus.”

  Kaeso swallowed once, then reached down and gently shook Blaesus.

  “Wake up, Blaesus,” he said in a loud voice.

  The old Senator did not stir.

  “Blaesus!”

  No movement.

  Kaeso shook Blaesus harder, but he still didn’t wake up. Kaeso unstrapped Blaesus from the delta couch and pulled him over his shoulder. He carried the old man to the bunk behind his delta couch, and lay him down. Kaeso shook Blaesus again.

  “Blaesus, wake up! Wake up, old man!”

  Blaesus continued to sleep. Kaeso pinched his arms, fingers, and toes. He slapped the Senator across the face.

  Blaesus didn't stir.

  Kaeso exhaled sharply. He lifted Blaesus back on his shoulders, carried him to the delta couch, and strapped him back in. The old man slept through the whole experience.

  Kaeso tried the same methods with the rest of the crew, going from Gaia to Nestor to Daryush to Lucia. He finally tried waking Ocella, but she didn't even whimper.

  After Ocella, Kaeso paced the corridor outside the crew quarters. At least one of them should have awakened, even if into a coma.

  Kaeso stopped pacing. Or what if they were already in a coma? Gaia had said the way line engine’s automated systems were not fully repaired. Perhaps the delta sleep system was also broken and they simply missed it? Maybe his entire crew was in a delta induced coma from which they would not awaken unless he repaired the delta system.
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  Like any good centuriae, he hired people who did their jobs well. Kaeso was no expert on the delta system. That was why he hired Nestor.

  Kaeso climbed the ladder to the command deck. He sat back in his command couch, tapped a few keys on his tabulari, and brought up the schematics for the ship's delta system.

  Kaeso saw the first numen one day after the jump.

  His ‘repairs’ on the delta system were not going well. Every diagnostic he ran told him the systems worked normally. Not trusting the diagnostics, he proceeded to take apart every component on the main delta circuits and boards, and inspect each one. Kaeso lay on the floor next to Nestor's delta couch, the delta panel beneath Nestor's console open and components littering the floor. He was running a diagnostic on a bio-crystal when motion at the command window caught his eye.

  A face stared at him from outside the ship. He blinked and it was gone. He stared at the empty window, his heart pounding.

  When nothing appeared, he put down the delta component and rubbed his eyes. He'd slept only two hours since the jump, and he'd been working on the delta systems the rest of the time, besides brief interruptions to eat or use the latrine. He was surprised it took this long before he started jumping at shadows.

  He glanced at Nestor sleeping soundly in his couch. Kaeso never thought he'd envy someone so much for being able to sleep. Even considering his previous work and the guilt he bore over abandoning his daughter, he never had trouble sleeping. This night had been different. It took him over an hour to fall asleep, and then he awoke with his heart and mind racing. He lay in his bunk for another half hour before giving up and returning to work on the delta system. But throughout the day his body was exhausted while his mind refused to rest.

  Kaeso looked from Nestor to Lucia, wondered what they were dreaming, then shook his head. If they were in delta sleep, they weren’t dreaming at all—besides the most basic life support, their brains were shut down.

  Kaeso then wondered how he’d give them water or food. If he could not repair the delta system, his crew could die of thirst long before they starved. Nestor had intravenous solutions in his medical hatch, but not enough for everyone.

  Kaeso stood up, stretched, and then turned to the ladder to see the back of somebody's head drop down the ladder and out of sight. He froze, a cold wave exploding through his body. He regained his ability to move, then leaped toward the ladder and looked down.

  Nothing.

  He slid down the ladder to the crew deck and hurried to each one of the crew quarters. He searched each bunk while staying mindful of the corridor in case the stowaway rushed past.

  Besides Ocella and Blaesus, there was nobody on the crew deck. Kaeso hurried over to the ladder and went down to the cargo/engine deck. He searched the engine room where Daryush, Gaia, and Cordus slept, and then checked both cargo bays. Dariya was still frozen in her sleeper crib.

  He found no one else.

  He stood in the corridor between the two cargo bays and listened to the sounds of his ship. A slight hum came from the engine room. Air flowed through the cylindrical vents in the corner where the walls met the ceiling. He detected no other sound except the thumping in his ears.

  “I saw you,” Kaeso said to the empty corridor. “It wasn't my tired eyes, was it?”

  Only silence in the ship.

  “Who are you?” Kaeso yelled.

  Did one of the infectees get on the ship? A Praetorian? Kaeso glanced at Cargo One to his right. Lucia’s pulse rifle lay on the floor next to a plastic drum. He went into the bay, picked up the rifle, and ensured it was charged. He strode back into the corridor, resolved to inspect every corner of the ship.

  Kaeso went from cabin to cabin, then closed and locked each door after he'd finished searching them. When he finished a deck, he closed and sealed the pressure hatches between decks. The hatches could only open with his voice authorization. If anyone was on the ship, the stowaway would be trapped between decks.

  So unless the stowaway knew a hiding place even Kaeso didn't know, his search revealed a secure ship.

  Kaeso knew what he saw. Head, shoulders, and hands disappearing down the ladder. Long black hair, diminutive shoulders, and slender hands. Kaeso thought of the stowaway as a “she” because of this. She wore a tan vest with long, white sleeves. He ruled out an infectee since she did not have the hairless, gray skin, and dirty, torn clothing of the infectees in the vaults. That left either a Praetorian...or his imagination.

  Sweat ran down his brow after he completed his final search, his mouth and throat dry. The painkillers had worn off and his entire calf ached. He limped to Nestor’s medical closet and injected more painkillers into the swollen calf. Then he went to the galley, took a kaffa-stained cup from the dish drawer and filled it with water from the tap. He downed the water in three gulps, then ran the cup under the tap again.

  A noise behind him. He dropped the cup, swung the rifle around and aimed at the door. He gasped, staggered back against the sink, the rifle falling from his hands.

  His dead wife Petra stared at him from the doorway.

  The realization came crashing down that he was mad. This whole time he had thought the ship was lost, the delta system didn’t work, or the ship wouldn’t respond to his commands because it was damaged. Was his mind a prisoner in his own body? Was he really now in some sanatorium for “way liners,” staring at the wall while drool streamed down his chin?

  “You're not mad,” Petra said. Her voice had the same ethnic Indian lilt that overwhelmed Kaeso with sweet memories of her singing to an infant Claudia.

  “I think I am,” he whispered. “You’re dead.”

  “Yes,” she said, walking into the galley. “But I'm also here, with you. I always have been. I always will.”

  Kaeso squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again.

  She was gone.

  He slid down the wall and landed hard on his bottom. He pulled his knees up to his chest and stared at the empty corridor.

  Recognizing his own madness proved liberating to Kaeso. Now that he knew this wasn’t real, he was free from any responsibility for his crew. He would not have to feed them or force water down their throats to keep them hydrated. He stopped worrying about the delta system—after all, the system was not really broken, and he was not really here. He didn't even attempt to inspect the way line engines. What was the point if he were sitting in a sanatorium somewhere?

  His calf, however, would not heal, though it did not worsen either. He changed the bandages twice a day, and injected painkiller after painkiller, but nothing seemed to reduce the infection around the wound. Perhaps madness would eventually take care of the calf as well.

  More numina came after Petra. One numen, the first face he saw outside his command window, appeared again when Kaeso went back to the command deck and sat in his couch to think. He recognized the Roman Senator he assassinated almost ten years ago. She had been his first. The Senator wanted to push through a law to ban Liberti goods from Roman vassal worlds. Liberti goods were already banned from Terra in a symbolic, rather than effective, embargo. But a ban on vassal worlds would have devastated the economy of Libertus. So Umbra ordered Kaeso to take care of the problem. Kaeso administered a subtle poison that made it appear the Senator died of a heart attack.

  Now the Senator stared at Kaeso through the command deck window with accusing eyes.

  “I'm not going to apologize, if that's what you want,” Kaeso told the floating face. The face stared at him, then disappeared moments later.

  He saw more numina of the people he killed. In mirrors, reflected off the cargo hold’s glass walls, on tabulari displays. He ignored them all, knowing full well his madness was dredging up guilty feelings he never had after he killed them.

  He didn't see Petra again until three days later.

  Kaeso was taking a shower for the first time in four days. Even in his madness, he could still smell his own body odor. He had just cleaned the soap off of his head when he notice
d the outline of a figure outside the shower. He opened the door and saw Petra standing before him. She was naked—goose bumps covering her olive skin, erect nipples on delicate breasts. By this time, Kaeso had grown comfortable with his madness. The sight of Petra did not shock him, only created a longing he hadn’t felt since her death. A longing mirrored in her brown eyes. He held his hand out to her and she took it.

  The first time they made love was in a shower in a resort hotel in the Liberti capital city, Avita. It had been passionate, sweet, and filled with shy giggles. This time, on a starship beyond the known universe—or a dark corner of his insane mind—was every bit as passionate, sweet, and full of giggles.

  Afterwards they wrapped each other in thick towels and Kaeso guided her to his bunk where they made love again. She responded to his touch and kisses with the quickened breath and goose flesh he remembered, responses that multiplied his own excitement.

  He had missed Petra beyond all reasoning.

  When they finished, they lay on the bunk, both exhausted with a sheen of sweat covering their bodies. Kaeso held Petra’s warm naked body tightly to his, afraid he would lose her again.

  Afraid sanity would return.

  “I'm still dead, you know.”

  Petra’s chin rested on Kaeso's chest. Her brown eyes were bright and she wore the same dreamy grin she always had after they made love.

  “And I'm mad,” he said. “What a pair we make.”

  “You're not mad.”

  “I'm either mad or dead. Am I dead?”

  “No.”

  “Ergo...”

  She sighed. “You really don't understand what's happening, do you?”

  “I understand I'm in a sanatorium staring at a crack in the wall.” He gave her a squeeze. “I'll take this kind of madness any day.”

  She didn't smile. “You can't stay here forever.”

  “Seems I don’t have a choice in the matter.”

  “You do have a choice,” she said. “You've always had a choice. You just never had the courage to make it.”