by Rob Steiner
“Insulting my honor now, are we?”
“I'm being honest,” she said. “Like always.”
“Do we have to talk about his? Can't we just...” He ran his fingers gently down her soft back and smooth thigh. She sighed contentedly, but continued regarding him with sad eyes.
“If that's your choice,” she said.
When Kaeso awoke, Petra was gone. He sat up straight in his bunk, the crushing weight of loss descending on him like the day he watched her ship explode.
He hurried to the open hatch.
“Petra!”
He charged down the corridor and then skidded to a stop in front of the galley. Petra sat at the table eating a freeze-dried meal. She wore one of Kaeso's merchant jumpsuits, the sleeves rolled up to her forearms. A strand of dark hair hung over her left eye, and she pulled it back behind her ear when she looked up at him.
“I can't believe you have red curry chicken in freeze-dried,” she said. She took another bite and sighed. “Not like the real thing, but it's still nectar from the gods.”
“I thought you left me,” he said.
“I'm not going anywhere. Unless you want me to.”
“No!”
She frowned and then turned back to her food. She acted as if he’d said something wrong, and he was about to ask when she laughed. “Aren't you cold?”
He realized he was naked. He grinned, then went back to his quarters and put on a merchant jump suit. When he returned, Petra was scooping out the last bit of curry gravy from the plastic tray. She licked her spoon clean and then placed it in the dish. Kaeso watched her, marveling at the detail of his madness. Her idiosyncrasies—from her soft moans when they made love to her eating habits, things Kaeso had not realized he'd forgotten—were on display. His love for her blanketed him in a warmth he had not felt since the day she died.
She smiled. “You haven't stopped grinning since our shower.”
“I missed you.”
“I could tell.” She stared at him a moment longer, then asked, “Why am I here?”
He shrugged. “I'm either mad or dead.”
“You're neither.”
“Then what am I? Because I know you're dead. I watched your ship die. I heard your screams on the com.”
She licked her lips. “Yes, you heard the dying screams of Petra on that ship ten years ago. The Sodalicium’s bombs were quite thorough.”
“You say it like you're talking about a different person.”
“Because I am. I'm not your Petra.”
Kaeso smiled. “You sure look and sound like her to me.” He reached across the table and held her soft, warm hands. “You feel like my Petra.”
She took his hands in hers and kissed them, but she wore the same expression as before, as if he had said the wrong thing. He knew she was trying to tell him something important, but he ignored it. She was all he wanted. To stare into her brown eyes, to feel her warm skin next to his, to take in her natural scent. He wanted to hear her voice, to feel her heart beating when he laid his head on her chest.
He knew she wanted to tell him something important. Something that might bring him out of his madness.
He just didn't care.
“When was the last time you checked on your crew?” Petra asked him.
They lay on his bunk in the darkness, the lights from the corridor illuminating the room in a soft yellow glow. They held each other beneath the blankets; Petra's warm naked skin pressed against his bare chest and legs.
“They're fine.”
“When?”
“I don't know. Two days ago.”
“Aren't you worried about them?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because they’re not real. How many times are you going to ask me this?”
She put her chin on his chest, looking at him. “They are very much real. And they need you.”
He sighed. She had not said much about the crew or the reason she was here in days, so Kaeso hoped she had given up trying to “save” him. They made love, played games on the ship's tabulari, talked about old times, ate more freeze-dried foods. It had been this way when they first married—complete focus on each other. He wanted it to go on forever.
“How can I help them?” he asked. “Even if what you say is true, and I'm not mad and I'm not dead—which I still think I'm one or the other—then what am I supposed to do? I've already tried waking them up. I've tried engaging the way line engines. I've tried the com systems on all channels. Nothing works. Unless Mercury picks us up, we're stuck here for eternity. We might as well get comfortable.”
She shook her head. “The Kaeso I remember would not have given up this easy.”
“Kaeso didn’t exist when you knew me.”
“How is your calf?”
“Bandaged and numb.”
“But no better? Don’t you think it odd you’ve had that wound over two weeks, but it’s never gotten worse or better?”
Before Kaeso could respond, she asked, “Aren't you wondering why I haven't asked about Claudia?”
Kaeso stiffened.
“We’ve been together almost a week,” she continued. “Why haven’t we once talked about our only child?”
“We...we were distracted.”
“We never talk about her because you don’t want to,” she said gently. “Because you are ashamed of how you treated her after I died.”
He got up and started putting on his jump suit.
“Have you noticed we only discuss the things you want?”
He grunted. “If that's true than why are we having this conversation?”
“Because you know you need it. Even though you don’t want it.”
He zipped up his jump suit. “I don't need to be reminded I was a bad father.”
Kaeso left the quarters. His calf was throbbing again.
Petra was gone when Kaeso returned to his bunk. He'd been gone ten minutes; long enough to inject more painkillers in his calf and go to the galley to make some kaffa.
The blankets were rumpled and empty. He searched the crew quarters but did not find her. He ran up and down each deck, but she was gone.
After searching the entire ship multiple times, he went back to his bunk, sat down, and pulled the blankets up to his face, taking in her scent.
“Petra,” he said, a sob breaking through. “Petra...”
Kaeso stared at the two week’s worth of beard in his bathroom mirror. He briefly considered shaving, but didn't see the point.
“Ready to talk?”
He whirled around and saw Petra standing in his quarters. She wore the white robes and tan vest of the Prosecutorium where she once tried cases in Avita's criminal court. Her long dark hair was pulled back into looping braids that hung down her back. She looked exactly the same as the day she died.
“Why did you leave?” he asked. It had been two days since she disappeared from his bed. He spent those two days either sleeping or talking to his unconscious crew.
“Because you wanted me to.”
“I never—”
“You didn't want to discuss why you're here.”
Kaeso looked away.
“You can only stay here for so long before your way back is closed. Then you will be mad. And it certainly won't be like this.”
“So where are we?”
“You stayed awake during the way line jump. This is how your mind perceives the way line.”
“Who are you?”
She smiled. “I’m glad you finally asked.” She put her hands in the folds of her sleeves. “Your Petra is dead. I'm simply the memory you retain of her. You created the image that stands before you.”
Kaeso walked out of the bathroom and into his room. He stood before her, studying her. She returned his stare with a patient one. “Those memories should have been wiped out when I got my Umbra implant. How is it I remember you so vividly?”
“The implant does not wipe out memories. It only diminishes them so you may d
evote your full attention to Umbra.”
“So if you're a memory, how do you know all this?”
“I'm not just a memory. I am the vessel through which the Muses in your implant are talking to you.”
Kaeso scratched his beard. “The Muses in my implant aren't alive.”
“They are alive. They just don't infect your body. How do you think you communicated with Libertus from Roma?”
Kaeso was suddenly angry. “So you plucked an image of Petra from my mind to manipulate me.“
“No,” Petra said. “The Muses cannot read minds. No strain can. You created this image.”
“Nestor said staying awake during a way line jump would kill the Muses. Is that true?”
Petra nodded. “Ocella will control her body when she wakes up. The reason I am here is because your implant protected the Muses within it, to some extent, and the Muses within the implant protected your mind.”
“To some extent?”
“To protect your mind, they had to create a shelter for it. They do not have the strength to bring you out. Now you've turned that shelter into a prison.”
Kaeso glanced around. “Looks like my ship to me.”
“Like me, this prison is something you created,” Petra said. “If you're honest with yourself, you'll admit that's the only way you've ever seen this ship.”
“A starship is freedom, not a prison. It means I can go wherever I want, whenever I want.”
“A starship is responsibility,” Petra said. “Responsibility has always been a prison for you.”
Kaeso scowled at this “constructed image” of his beloved Petra. He did not see Caduceus as a prison. He bought the ship for the reasons he just told her. A starship was freedom. All he'd ever wanted since he was a child was to wander the way lines, see all the star systems colonized by humanity, and maybe discover an unknown way line terminus. Before Petra was murdered by the Sodalicium, a Liberti criminal syndicate angry at her prosecutions of its members, he’d commanded a small police cruiser in the Liberti system. But he'd always viewed the system-bound cruiser as a stepping-stone to an interstellar command. One that would give him his childhood dream of exploring the universe.
But even a small lictor cruiser showed him that running a ship was not the same as exploring. Command meant responsibility for the ship and the crew, minutiae that prevented Kaeso from doing what he really wanted. When Petra’s ship exploded while his lictor cruiser escorted it, he realized that responsibility was too overwhelming.
So when Umbra recruited him because his genetic makeup matched the requirements for the Umbra implant, he jumped at their offer like a drowning man reaching for a lifeline. He abandoned his command with the Liberti System Patrol. He abandoned his aging parents. He abandoned his only child. All because responsibility was a prison in which he could not bear to spend one more moment.
In Umbra he found what he always wanted: The freedom to explore without a team for which he was responsible. Umbra Ancilia worked alone. He performed his missions without worrying his mistakes would kill someone he cared about. If he made a mistake, only he would suffer the consequences. That was freedom.
That freedom ended when he was blacklisted from Umbra. He tried to gain back a measure of it by buying Caduceus. He was thrilled he’d finally have his own ship to explore the universe as he'd always wanted, but he ignored the dread in his heart over the prospect of another command. That he would be responsible for the lives of its crew.
When Umbra came calling again with their mission to Terra, he jumped at it. Like a drowning man. Because of his attempts to escape responsibility, he'd lost two crewmembers and was about to kill the rest.
Petra stared at him, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. “You see it now, don't you?”
Kaeso sat in his bunk, his shoulders slumped and his head in his hands. Selfish. That's what he'd been. His whole life he'd only wanted things for himself, and had viewed the most important people in his life as obstacles to getting what he wanted. For himself.
“Why didn't you tell me this before?” he asked.
“You didn't want to know. Before you can change, you have to want to change.”
“What do I do?” he asked.
Petra smiled. “You need to leave the prison.”
Kaeso and Petra stood in front of the Cargo Two door ramp.
“You're kidding,” he said.
“You need to leave the prison you created for yourself. It is the only way you will wake up.”
“Can't I just snap my fingers? Say “I want to wake up”?”
Petra shook her head. “The way out is difficult. The Muses had to construct a strong shelter for your mind against the way line’s effects. You made it stronger. They have already removed the barriers they created. Now you have to remove yours.”
“But spacing myself...”
Petra put a hand on his arm. “As I said, the way out is difficult. You must prove to yourself that you want to leave. It requires great effort to climb the walls you've created.”
“Why should I trust you? My ship carries a weapon that can defeat you. Maybe you just want to kill me.”
“What would that solve?” Petra asked. “You already initiated the way line jump. Your friends are safe. The Muses have nothing to gain from your death.”
“And nothing to lose.”
Petra paused. “What I say comes from the Muses. They want you to know they are much like humans. Each strain has its own culture, ambitions, needs. Like humans, they also make mistakes. They don't expect you to believe this, but the Liberti strain does have the greatest regard for mankind. They may do things you don't understand, but they do them because they do not want to repeat the mistakes they've made in the past with other hosts. You cannot deny that without them, Libertus would have fallen to the Romans or the Zhonguo or some other tyrant long ago. They have done this by learning from past mistakes and avoiding direct confrontation with rival strains.”
“I suppose killing Galeo is in that bucket of “things I don’t understand.” Or sending Ocella to assassinate Cordus.”
“I just told you they make mistakes. Galeo died because he refused to give you the answers you wanted, whereas the Muses wanted to answer your questions.”
“What? Why would he do that?”
Petra sighed. “Sometimes even Liberti Vessels begin to worship the Muses as gods. And they begin to think they know how to protect the Muses better than the Muses do. Galeo thought that giving you answers would enable you to destroy the Muses.”
Kaeso shook his head. “I thought Galeo was my friend.”
Petra put a hand on Kaeso’s arm. “He was. But his…faith always came first.”
“As for Cordus,” Petra continued, “they assumed he could never be extracted from Roma, so the only way to keep the Terran strain from discovering his skills was to kill him. They never dreamed the boy wanted to leave. Now that he has, however, you are free to take him to the Saturnists.”
“Just like that,” Kaeso said. “We’re free to go. Free to reveal the Menota archives. Umbra won’t hunt us down?”
“They won’t.”
“And Ocella?” he asked. “The Muses will let her go, too?”
Petra exhaled. “Ocella is a problem. Not only did she destroy Umbra on Terra, but she also gave the Romans technology enabling them to block Umbra and Muse communications. That is why it has taken Umbra so long to strike back at the Roman siege fleet. The damage she did to Umbra will take years to overcome, if it can be. There are many Ancilia who would kill her on sight.” Petra paused. “But no such order will come from the Muses. Just be sure she stays away from Libertus.”
“It’s too easy. Why are they just letting us go?”
Petra turned and regarded the stars beyond the porthole on the Cargo Two door ramp. “There are other strains in the universe. Strains a thousandfold more vile and manipulative than the Terran strain. They lay beyond the way line termini you saw on Menota. Many started out as ideali
stic and protective of their hosts. They changed over time…” Petra turned back to Kaeso. “The Liberti strain wants you to keep Cordus because they do not trust themselves to do the right thing with him. They believe only humans will know what to do. Humans who do not trust any strains. In time, they hope this…concession will engender trust between the Liberti strain and humanity. And, in time, perhaps a path to coexistence.”
Kaeso wasn't sure how to respond. How could he trust the Muses if they couldn’t even trust themselves?
“Gaia and Nestor’s Saturnists will need your help when you wake up,” she said. “Libertus is still under siege. Umbra ships are gathering and will attempt to break the siege, but that will mean a long, brutal war.”
Kaeso frowned. “All I can promise is that I will fight for Libertus.”
Petra smiled. “That's all they ask.”
He looked back at the Cargo Two door ramp. “Why do I keep wondering if this is some trick to get me to open those doors and kill everyone on this ship?”
“How does your calf feel?” Petra asked patiently.
For the first time in weeks, there was no pain. Kaeso pulled up his pant leg and removed the bandage. There was no wound, or even a scar.
The wound had been there this morning.
“Cac,” he breathed.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and embraced him tightly. He smelled the perfume in her hair, and he held her tighter. This wasn't his Petra, but for this moment she was.
“It is time, Kaeso Aemilius Rulus,” she said, pulling away.
Kaeso nodded slowly. “Will I remember you?”
“The important parts.”
Her eyes went from the hold’s door ramp and back to Kaeso. He took a deep breath and strode over to the ramp controls next to the door. He brought up the release controls and disabled the safety locks. His finger hovered over the opening button. He looked back at Petra.
“Thank you for bringing her back to me,” he said.
She smiled, the dimples in her cheeks showing. Gods, grant the memory of that smile is one of the “important parts.”