Templum Veneris

by Jeremy L. Jones

  Viekko reached out and put his hands on her shoulders and held her for a minute. “You’re different than them, Althea. You’re a survivor.”

  Althea spun around in his grasp and glared directly in his eyes. “Yes, well maybe I want to be like them. I had a stable life, maybe I could again. I could have a career and money and a family and friends, instead of being forced to thrash it out with savages and...” Althea stopped herself. She must have seen the look on Viekko's face. “I’m sorry Viekko, I didn’t mean—”

  “No, I think I finally got it. The belle of Arkester is forced to slum it with the wackos, misfits, and barbarians. That's why you can't have anythin’ to do with me. Oh sure, I might be fun for a quick in-out, but you can't bring a loud, tattooed Martian to dinner. Why he might wipe himself with the bread and khoonson ooroo in the gravy bowl.”

  As Viekko spun around and pulled himself toward the exit, Althea begged. “Viekko, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… I just…”

  Viekko opened the hatch, “No, no, you're right. There ain’t nothin’ more to talk about. Sorry to have bothered you.”

  He shut the hatch and swore, and looked over to see Cronus giving him a curious look.

  “You were right,” said Viekko after a moment. “I am sorry I went in there.”

  “I am usually correct in such matters. Where are you going?”

  “I’m gonna go see if Isra needs any help.”

  “You should probably get ready for hibernation. I feel like the shuttle wants to take off soon.”

  “I’ll wait,” said Viekko pulling himself down the hallway. “I hate hibernation.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ‘Diana Adriana For President’ was allegedly started as a joke leading up to the Brazilian elections in 2083. If it was, nobody told the Brazilian people. While hidden away deep in a private prison in the United States, Diana Adriana won the presidency in a landslide.

  -From The Fall: The Decline and Failure of 21st Century Civilization by Martin Raffe

  The worst part about hibernation was waking up. Viekko was still hazy and unfocused from the triple-T withdrawal, but now it was like his body was a few seconds behind his mind. His mouth tasted dry and rancid like meat laid out in the sun for days. It was impossible to tell how long he had been asleep. He had a thin beard now, but the memory of his fight with Althea was fresh enough to recite the highlights from memory.

  Viekko touched a holographic icon floating over his face to release the door of the hibernation pod and slid out. The air in the ship smelled stale with a rank locker-room odor mixed in. He also noticed a sound on the edge of hearing, something light and ethereal.

  The green lights over the other pods indicated that Cronus, Althea and Isra were still in the middle of the reanimation process; still asleep. He had a few minutes of peace before they woke up. A few minutes before she woke up, he thought, casting a particular glance at Althea still sleeping in her pod. He got dressed and left, making his way through the ship to the bridge toward the sound. It was orchestral music featuring strings and high woodwinds. Viekko felt a sort of terminal sweetness as he listened to it. It was music he would hear on the day he died and it would say, “That's all there was. Most of it wasn’t so bad.”

  He followed the music to the bridge where Captain Colton was busy with the ship’s controls. The brown-orange atmosphere of Venus loomed large in the window overhead and the reflected light cast long shadows in the control area. At first, Colton didn't notice Viekko standing in the door; he continued making small orbital corrections and moving his head to the music in a way that made Viekko think of a snake charmer.

  Colton stopped. “You’re up early, aren’t you?”

  “You’ve got good hearing,” Viekko said, pulling himself onto the bridge.

  “You didn’t make a noise, friend, not that I could hear. No, I knew you were there because… well... no offense, friend, but you haven’t showered in three months.”

  Viekko sniffed under his arm and recoiled. “I take your point. Mind if I join you?”

  “Sure, why not? The air isn't getting any better anyway.”

  Viekko floated over, settled into the co-pilot seat, and strapped himself in. “So whatchu you listening to?”

  “Venus.”

  “Venus?”

  “Yeah, friend, an ancient symphony from the 18th century. Before the Fall. Way before. Maybe before the Rise, if there ever was a Rise. Who knows?”

  “I see,” said Viekko. “Little on the nose don’t you think?”

  The Captain twisted a dial and the spacecraft rolled until the planet was at the bottom of the window. “The composer didn’t write this symphony for the planet, friend,” Colton said. “He was inspired by the astrological aspect of Venus.”

  “You mean the symbol of love?” Viekko grumbled bitterly.

  “No, that's the goddess. The star was the bringer of peace, friend. Those two aren't always the same. You and that red-head already proved that.”

  “Who says we’re in love?”

  Colton laughed. “Oh, friend, folk who hate each other don’t fight like that. What I saw there was vicious foreplay.”

  Viekko leaned back. “I thought there might be something, but now I'm not sure. It all started when she asked me to move out to Arkester.”

  “What, move in with her?”

  “Nah, just nearby. So she could keep an eye on me. See, I got a little drug problem.”

  “What kind of drug problem?”

  “Logistical.”

  “Logistical?”

  “Yep, I can’t get any drugs.”

  “I see,” said Colton. “So what happened, friend, did you slip up?

  “Nah, she did.”

  “She’s got a drug problem too?”

  “Nah, something different.”

  “What does she do?”

  “Me.”

  “Lucky you.”

  “You’d think,” said Viekko. “Trouble is she tends to hate herself whenever she's with me and the only time I don't feel like a walkin’ corpse is when I'm with her.”

  “Ah,” said Colton with a knowing tone. “Triple-T?”

  “Yeah, how didja know?”

  Colton looked over and smiled. “Three years sober next week, friend.”

  Viekko was about to say something more when Isra’s perpetually annoyed voice echoed through the bridge. “Viekko. What the hell are you doing up here?”

  Viekko peeked around the back of the seat. Isra hung in the doorway floating in the air with her body rigid. She’d be standing at attention, if one could stand in zero gravity.

  Viekko turned back to the window with the swirling clouds getting ever closer. “Just havin’ a little talk with our Captain.”

  “Captain, how long until we hit atmosphere?” Isra asked through clenched teeth.

  Colton silenced the music and examined his instruments. “I’ve been degrading our orbit for the last hour, ma'am. If everyone is strapped in, we can have air around us in thirty minutes.”

  “We are ready,” said Isra. Then she pointed at Viekko. “You get your ass strapped into the passenger cabin with the rest of us.”

  “It’s okay, Ms. Jicarrio, I don’t mind the company,” said the Captain.

  Isra acted, for a moment, as if she might argue. Then, she slowly rotated her body and disappeared into the corridor.

  “Thank you,” Viekko sighed. “It was gonna get awkward back there.”

  “Friend, it’s about to get awkward down there.” Colton indicated the clouds growing larger and more defined by the moment.

  “I can deal with 'down there'. It's big enough to run away if I need to.”

  Viekko watched as Venus grew bigger until it filled the window and he could see individual jets of clouds weaving their way across the atmosphere. In a few places, he saw dark specks where mountain peaks poked up from the surface.

  “Three years,” Viekko said. “Howdja do it?”

  Colton pushed some buttons and took h
old of a flight yoke that rose from the panel. “You’re not going to feel like yourself, friend, not until you get your brain chemistry right again. That means you gotta do something that excites you.”

  “I did. She just don’t want nothin’ to do with me.”

  “You can't use another human as a substitute for the 'T', friend. Dropping it is all about freedom and you can't be free if you force your dependency on another. Everyone says you'll be happy when you quit triple-T, friend; but the truth is, you can't quit unless you’re happy.”

  Viekko thought back to the holovids hanging on the wall of that depressing basement where they held the meetings. Smiling families, couples holding hands, the perfect life; according to them anyway.

  “So what do I do?” Viekko asked.

  “There was probably a time in your life you were free to do as you pleased. As free as any person can be in this Universe. When you had the most choice, what did you do?”

  “If I ever had that kinda freedom, it's far too long ago to remember.”

  “You will, friend. The rest will follow.”

  “What did you do?”

  “When I was a kid, I used to race jet skimmers. Nothing but flame, speed and fiery death.” The ship started to shake as it hit the upper atmosphere. “Problem is that only lasts a few seconds, fifteen if you’re lucky enough to find a long track. Not nearly enough. But I found a way to keep that feeling going for minutes at a time. And it's coming up right now.”

  The ship lurched forward and the tip of the nose started to glow a dull red.

  “Trying to hold eighty-five tons of metal and ceramic together while air itself tries to tear it apart. Watching the flames from the heat shields and listening to the roar of fire on metal.”

  “Re-entry keeps you off triple-T?” Viekko’s voice modulated as the shaking intensified.

  Colton’s face cracked into an insane grin. “Better than sex, friend.”

  ****

  The Captain of the Guard stood at the gates of Cytherea City and watched the fireball streak across the sky. Soon, flame gave way to smoke, until finally, a small craft circled high above the mountain peaks that ascended from the city.

  He could sense the apprehension of the soldiers standing around him and he shared this feeling with them; even the most disciplined of his soldiers shifted as they watched the craft circle. It was in the way they gripped their spears close to their body; it was even in the scorching wind that blew up from the wastelands farther down the hill. He would never question one so wise as Rainha Isabel but… he didn’t understand—yes, that was probably safe—he didn’t understand why she would invite these people to Cytherea. Venus provided everything they needed; food, water, protection. What could these people from Earth bring, except chaos?

  The only one at ease among them was Rainha Isabel’s emissary. The woman stood in front of the soldiers watching the visitors fly over the city and begin to land farther down the hill. Her expression was one of supreme self-confidence. The Captain hated her for that. She was one of many at court who confused fearlessness with bravery. Soldiers who are afraid still fight because they are brave. Soldiers who are fearless die quickly for stupid reasons.

  Several hundred meters down the hill, the ship had slowed its horizontal motion and started its vertical landing. Seething hot winds carried the dirt and dust that the craft’s engines kicked up and, as it got close to the ground, he lost sight of the craft completely within the dust storm it created. He and the emissary exchanged glances. It was time. The Captain of the Guard raised his hand. “Gaurda! Avancar.”

  In flawless formation, and perfectly in step, the soldiers marched down the hill.

  ****

  Viekko looked out the small window in the cargo bay door, pulled a full clip from his belt and rammed it into place in one of his two matching handguns. They were possibly modeled after the ancient Remington M1911 pistol, although Viekko believed they were actual relics from before the Fall. They probably had every part replaced at one time or another, but that was irrelevant, they were the same guns. It's tough to have a 'Grandfather's Axe' debate at gunpoint. Whether rebuilt or made from scratch, each gun bore the engraving, +ULFBERT+, in the handle from the Martian gunsmith who built them.

  “You got down fast,” Isra commented, walking down the stairs to the bay with Althea and Cronus close behind her.

  Viekko peered down the sight of his gun. “I thought the Captain should be alone with his re-entry shields. It was gettin’ uncomfortable.”

  “And what do you think you’re doing with those?” Althea asked, watching as he pulled the slide back.

  Viekko looked out the window again. “The local soldiery has come out to welcome us.” He put the gun in a shoulder holster. “Hang back here until I give an all clear.”

  “The Rainha of Cytherea has guaranteed our safety while in her city.” Isra was watching him load his second gun.

  “That might mean something if we were in the city or if we knew those soldiers were hers. It might.” Viekko emphasized the ‘might’ by holstering the second gun.

  “I should hope you won’t be needing those,” said Althea. “Or much of anything. The external sensors confirm what our orbital scans picked up about this area. The gravity is almost identical to Earth’s, the atmosphere is a little rich in carbon dioxide but nothing unbearable, the temperature is comparable to a hot summer day. Isra was right. This is likely the most Earth-like place in the solar system.”

  Viekko glanced back out the window. “Yeah, it don’t look to be doing them any harm.”

  Althea opened a couple of equipment compartments in the wall. “I think I'd still like us to wear medical regulators. I'd like to see the physiological impacts of the planet. And also the EROS computer, so we can stay in contact with the shuttle and each other.”

  “Do that then,” said Viekko, pulling the release on the cargo bay door. “I'm gonna step out for a moment.”

  “And what exactly are you going to do?” Isra asked, eyebrows raised.

  “I'm gonna be a diplomatic novsh,” said Viekko. Then he opened the cargo bay door and stepped outside.

  There were twenty soldiers lined up ten across and two deep. Each wore a long white tunic that hung down around their knees, over which they wore a bronze breastplate and a crimson cloak. They watched Viekko behind bronze helmets and their hands tightened around steel-tipped spears every time he took a step. Every soldier carried a short-bladed sword strapped around their waist with a leather belt. Every detail was in perfect order. Not a cloak or sword was missing or out of place. The bronze pieces gleamed with a brilliance that forced Viekko to squint when he reached the end of the ramp. This wasn't a militia force held together with baling wire, sharpened sticks and a catchy slogan; this was a well-trained, well-organized machine that was designed to kill anything that stood between them and their objective.

  There was one in particular giving Viekko the evil-eye. His helmet had a larger red crest than the others and he stood out ahead of the rest of the formation, which suggested a ranking officer. Viekko stopped at the edge of the ramp and the two men locked eyes. No words passed between them but Viekko heard a warning nonetheless.

  The tense moment was broken when a woman walked forward clapping her hands in the air yelling, “Bem-vindo! Bem-vindo! Bem-vindo!”

  The woman, Viekko couldn’t help but notice, was beautiful. She wore a light, white linen dress that flowed in the warm breeze and a red cloak that trailed behind her. The way the wind pressed the fabric against her showed a body that was strong, fit and extremely… it was nice, Viekko thought as he sucked in a breath of air. She had soft, delicate features and fair hair tied up in a bun. And yet, there was something hard as diamond about her.

  The woman stopped a couple meters away and Viekko bowed his head slightly, repeating the greeting, “Bem-vindo.”

  “You are welcome to City Cytherea. You are Isra Jicarrio?” The woman spoke in heavily accented English.

  �
�Nah, I'm Viekko Spade. You are with Rainha Isabel?”

  “Celia Maximilliano,” said the woman, pressing her hand against her chest and bowing her head. “Emmisarrio a Rainha Isabel.”

  “And these men?”

  “Personal guard. Here for the same reason you are, I think. Please, may I speak with Isra Jicarrio?”

  “One moment.”

  Viekko walked back up the ramp to the cargo bay door.

  “Well?” said Isra.

  “Looks legit. Probably be a good idea to arm ourselves, maybe grab us some body armor.... which you're not going to do because you're already out the door,” said Viekko watching Isra walk down the ramp. He looked at Althea and Cronus and gestured to the open door. “Well, go ahead. It's a party. Go mingle.”