Templum Veneris

by Jeremy L. Jones

  Cronus stood by the door, cut and bolted into the side of the ancient colony ship, and tried to relax. He was not nervous, of course he wasn’t. He was just… going over the plan again.

  Let her take the lead; yes, that’s what Viekko had said. It seemed logical enough. He shifted the armload of electronics he had retrieved from the shuttle; a small collection of rugged black and silver metal boxes, the assorted cables which spilled out over his arms. He only needed one or two of the components, but the extra equipment served as a kind of visual excuse for his sudden exit last night. It was a convenient cover, Cronus thought, but it wasn’t getting any lighter. Time to go inside.

  Joana had been busy since he left. The previously dark control room was now lit by several monitors embedded in the horseshoe-shaped control console. Many of the systems were still inactive; about half the monitors were still dark, and a few that were powered showed nothing but static, but a precious few of them displayed data again. Possibly for the first time in years… maybe decades.

  As he marveled, Joana crawled out of the open panel they had been working on yesterday. “Cronus! You are back!” she said, almost vibrating with excitement. “You were correct about the reset. Look!”

  “Can you see?” Cronus asked, finding a mostly empty workbench to set the components down. “Is the electrical system diagnostics operational?”

  Joana stood up, tapped in a few commands on the system computer and a few of the screens changed to a running waveform diagram, showing the regular hums and spikes of the electrical system. “Sim. I think there is still not enough power. Some systems still go away. Disappear.”

  “There are probably more auxiliary systems we can shut down while we recalibrate,” said Cronus, unnecessarily indicating the pile of equipment on the bench. “I brought a couple of things from our ship to help. Which is why I had to leave last night. Quickly. I needed the time to locate things.”

  Joana looked over her shoulder, and her face lost some of the bright, cheerfulness. “Sim… last night,” she said. “I am very sorry.”

  “Sorry for what?” Cronus selected one of the electronic devices without looking at her. After all, what did she have to apologize for? He was the one who bolted for the door like a cockroach caught in the light.

  “I made you feel… uncomfortable?” Joana replied, looking at the floor.

  Cronus walked over to the computer terminal where she stood. Uncomfortable didn’t begin to describe how he felt even now as he got close to her. It wasn’t a bad kind of uncomfortable. It was like… a puzzle. Or a complicated algorithm. Or a new security protocol to overcome. It was the kind of uncomfortable that grabbed him by the frontal lobe and forced his attention until he found the answer.

  And, for some reason, he wanted to tell her that. But even the thought caused his throat to go dry and his hands to shake. Now, close enough to see fine detail in her face, he was torn between a desire to get closer and the instinct to flee. He craved the intimacy, but he didn’t know how to get it or what to do with it, and for some reason, he wanted to explain all of this to her.

  No, he told himself, let her take the lead. That’s what Viekko had said. It was good advice. Especially since he couldn’t think of any combination of words in any language to describe what he was thinking. And he sure as hell didn’t know what to do.

  He realized he had been standing in front of the workbench turning the same component over in his hand for several minutes, with Joana standing less than a meter away with an expectant look in her eye. He thrust the electronic device between them as if he expected it to protect him. “This is an external electrical system analysis module,” he said, with a touch of panic. “We can plug it into the working computer system. It will then access system resources to find internal electrical problems and perhaps find ways to reroute them.”

  Joana smiled and wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. “It fixes electrical system?”

  “Some parts. We may have to build new connections in some places. But, yes, it will help us discover what we must do next.”

  Cronus found himself staring into Joana’s blue-grey eyes. Shit, he was staring. He needed a distraction, quick. He turned his attention to the computer and began fumbling for a place to connect the module.

  Let her take the lead, he told himself again. It was going to happen soon. Cronus could feel enough electricity between them that the blank monitors should power up by sheer proximity. And after that… well, it was simple biology, wasn’t it? Nothing complicated.

  He attached the module and activated it through the computer system while Joana stood next to him and watched with interest.

  Cronus started a diagnostic process and took a deep breath. “It is going to take a while, I am afraid. There are many variables to test.”

  When Joana looked at him, it was enough to make some of his internal organs start a series of back handsprings.

  “Very well,” said Joana. “There is a separate system I was working on before. Ship logs and diagnostics. I could work on that while we wait?”

  And that was it. It was like spending hours trying to figure out how to navigate a new security system, only to find that the owner never actually set a password. He felt a strange relief mixed with equal parts disappointment.

  “Oh… yes,” said Cronus. “And I suppose I could start downloading data from the systems that are online right now.”

  “Very good,” said Joana. “You will tell me when we are ready to continue?”

  “Of course.”

  Cronus went back to the ancient computer, stared at the screen and tried to figure out how, exactly, he had screwed it up this time.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  As the fervor of Adriana’s purge grew, it fell from the top floors of the gleaming skyscrapers to the city streets. Any shop, restaurant, or other business not perceived by the police or local paramilitary groups to be ‘Brazilian’ enough were raided and burned in the name of the Lady of Fire.

  Their owners were deported, imprisoned or, in many cases, just disappeared.

  When asked to restrain her followers, Adriana famously replied, “The Brazilian people are a passionate people. They are a patriotic people. I will not punish that.”

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

  Isra and Althea followed the Rainha’s emissary through the winding streets of Cytherea along with a small cadre of soldiers. As they made their way through crowded thoroughfares and narrow passages, Celia extolled the innumerable virtues and civic accomplishments of Cytherea.

  Isra noted that Althea was quiet; she stared off into the distance, never focusing on any one thing more than a few moments, and she walked as if every movement were against her will. Whatever Althea saw last night rattled her more than she wanted to let on.

  Isra was quiet as well, preferring to let the emissary go on and on about the various villas, fountains, and public buildings they passed; everything a testament to the glorious reign of Rainha Isabel and the strength of her people. But the entire time they walked, Isra felt a strange force pulling on her mind. At the same time, there was this irritating nagging sensation like pins being pushed into the back of her mind. She felt it when she looked into the eyes of the oculto. She hadn’t noticed before, but a few bore strange scars that ran from their cheeks to their foreheads across an eye that was fused shut. When they walked past, Isra swore she could hear soft whispers, and shadows occasionally disappeared into alleyways as they approached.

  The area around them opened up to reveal a vast space, large enough to contain the biggest stadiums or colosseums on Earth. Everywhere Isra looked, Cytherean soldiers ran, drilled, and trained on fields of white sand. Metal clashed against metal, hundreds of footsteps crunched on the gravel paths in between the training areas. The place reeked of sweat and blood.

  Celia waved her arm at the entirety of what was laid out before them. “This is Campo Batalha. The large
st of Cytherea’s military training fields, although not the only one. Here soldiers practice the art of battle. They are sharpened like the swords they carry so that they may defend Cytherea. Come.”

  Celia started down a gravel path beckoning the others to follow. She led them out to the middle of the expansive area and stopped in front of a sandy field where thirty or more soldiers engaged in a mock battle.

  “In Cytherea,” said Celia, with all the civic pride one person could muster, “soldiers act as one. They move as one. They fight as one.”

  Isra watched as a group of ten or fifteen Cytherean men in full military uniform charged with spears raised toward a line of wooden practice dummies across the white field. Behind the targets, another line of soldiers loaded slings with rocks and started swinging them. It didn’t take long for Isra to understand, at least in principle, the point of the exercise. The spearmen surged forward until one among them gave an order. The soldiers halted their advance and lined up to form a solid wall with their shields. The soldiers on the opposite side released their stones. The rocks clattered against the shield wall and once the danger had passed, the line advanced. It was like the children’s game where a group of kids had to stop moving whenever one in front turned around. Only with spears and rocks.

  The soldiers on the other end loaded their slings, and the leader of the advancing force called for a charge.

  “That is the most important Cytherean ideal,” Celia explained. “Every person lives and functions, not as lone interests, but as part of something bigger. Cytherea is its people, and the people are Cytherea. There is no difference.”

  The charge halted just in time for the soldiers to stop and raise their shields before the volley of stones struck again. Once the last rock bounced against the shields, the leader shouted an order, and the line advanced.

  “So all people function as servants to the state?” asked Isra, although it was less a question than a flat statement. “No personal ties to family, friends, or even clans?”

  Celia looked confused for a moment. “I am not sure I understand.”

  “Is there anyone else they serve but the Rainha?”

  Celia brought her hands together and closed her eyes as if saying a prayer. “There was a time when individual houses would compete for control of the Sala Gran; for control of Cytherea. But in those times, Cythereans worked against each other. It is effort wasted. Here, everyone works for a unified purpose. It functions…”

  Only a few meters away, the soldiers on the left side released their stones before the squad leader called for a halt. The soldiers tried to push through, running forward even as stones flew at them. A few managed to raise their shields in time, but the rest were struck down by the barrage and only about half the original group manage to reach their target. A stone hit one soldier so hard that it knocked off his helmet and sent him flailing backward into the sand where he lay still.

  Celia let out a disappointed sigh. “Most of the time. I apologize. These soldiers are new. Still learning.”

  Althea looked around with exasperation. “Where are the medics? Is someone going to help that man?”

  Celia regarded her with curiosity. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure…”

  “Oh bugger this,” muttered Althea, sprinting onto the sand.

  “Wait! Senhora!” called the emissary.

  “Althea!” snapped Isra as she and Celia ran out to follow her.

  Althea knelt beside the fallen soldier and looked into his eyes. “Can you hear me? Are you okay?”

  The man blinked a couple of times at her, bewildered, as a stream of blood trickled down his face from a sizable gash across his head. Before she could do anything else, a group of soldiers pushed her out of the way and helped the man to his feet. He staggered, but with their help, was able to walk away.

  “Where are they taking him?” Althea asked as she stood up. “He should be looked at. There’s a very good chance he has a concussion.”

  Celia patted her on the shoulder. “Soldiers take care of him. He will be well. Please. We must go.”

  The emissary turned, but Althea continued to watch the soldiers carry the man away. Isra touched her hand. “Althea. They will handle it.”

  “Yes,” said Althea. “I’m quite sure they will.”

  Celia led them to another part of the training ground bordered on one side by a road. Oculto streamed in both directions and groups of soldiers, marching in formation, passed as well. In front of them, a group of twenty or so boys ran weapons drills. An older man in front of them shouted orders. “Advanca!”

  The boys took a step forward with their shields in front of them and gave a loud, sharp cry in perfect unison.

  “Strika!”

  The boys thrust the spear forward and cried again.

  “These soldiers proved themselves in Provacao only days ago,” said Celia, admiring them. “They are already a force invencivel.”

  “Impressive,” said Isra, without the remotest indication of admiration in her voice. “Tell me, how long has Cytherea been at war?”

  Again, Celia looked confused. “I am not sure I understand.”

  “Hey, look,” said Althea, motioning to the road. “It’s the Rainha.”

  Isabel was indeed walking down the road, accompanied by a formation of ten soldiers each with large, colorful crests made from feather or animal hair.

  The drill instructor yelled, “Solta!” and the entire formation dropped their spears, which fell noiselessly in the sand.

  “Sim,” said Celia. “Our Rainha has many duties. She visits soldiers who have fought in battle. She offers her strength to the wounded. She attends births, deaths, …”

  “She goes to births?” Althea asked sharply, completely failing to hide her interest.

  Celia frowned. “Sim. As many as she can. A child touched by the Rainha on their first day will more likely pass Provacao.”

  Althea watched the Rainha’s entourage intently as they marched away, then spun around to look at Isra who knew, without speaking, what Althea wanted to do. Isra’s gut twisted at the thought but she couldn’t keep ignoring that strange nagging feeling. Isra blinked long and hard to communicate that she understood and Althea nodded back.

  “Who exactly are you at war with?” Isra repeated, turning to the emissary.

  Celia blinked a few times as if she still didn’t understand what Isra was getting at. “Why, we fight Corsario. Cytherea has always fought against Corsario.”

  “Cytherea is always at war?” Isra added.

  “Sim. If that is what you mean. Corsario threaten our people, our farms, and our city. Of course we fight them.”

  “I see,” Isra continued, keeping the emissary’s attention focused on her. “They must be terrifying.”

  Celia nodded. “Sim. Horrible. They come. They burn what they will. They kill whoever they find. They would destroy all of this.”

  The drill in front of them continued. The young soldiers unsheathed their swords and thrust them forward at the instructors’ command and screamed war cries as they did.

  “So horrible even an army as strong as Cytherea cannot defeat them?”

  Celia sucked in a breath between her teeth. Something in her eyes suggested a rising rage, but it was tempered. “What do you mean?”

  Isra returned her attention to the drill. “Obviously a military as fierce as this should have no problem defeating almost any army of comparable strength. It says something that these Corsario have not been defeated. They must be powerful.”

  Something in Celia’s body language suggested a conflict. “Come with me. I will show you… Where is the other? Where is Althea?”

  Isra looked around and called out while pretending to be shocked by her absence. “Althea? Althea!” Isra sighed. “We should look for her.”

  “No need.” Celia waved her hand at a nearby soldier who ran up. “One of the people from Earth has gone missing. Spread the word to find her. We must ensure her safety.” The last bit, Isra had n
o doubt, was added for her benefit.

  The soldier nodded and ran off.

  “They will find her soon. Do not worry.”

  “I am not worried. Althea is smart and resourceful. She can take care of herself,” said Isra smiling. “There was something you wanted to show to me?”

  Celia started walking. “You must see, I think, what this enemy we fight can do if we do not stop them.”

  ****

  Viekko walked at the head of a military formation next to Gabriel. The city built on the steep, rugged mountains was a couple of kilometers behind them now. Beyond that, were golden fields of grain, orchards of fruits and olives, and pastures where sheep and cattle grazed. Those began to give way now to bare, rocky ground as they continued to move down the gentle slope of the Maxwell Mons. Every step they took down the mountain kicked up the temperature a couple of degrees.