Templum Veneris

by Jeremy L. Jones

  Cronus clasped Joana’s hands and looked into her eyes. Her face radiated a mixture of joy and disbelief, and she blinked back tears. “Is it over? Did they do it, did they win?”

  Cronus smiled. “I think they did. Viekko did it!”

  The next thing Cronus knew, Joana launched forward and threw her arms around him, tackling him to the floor. For several minutes, they cheered, laughed and held each other with Joana resting on top of him. Her small frame packed a surprising amount of strength and weight, but despite that, he found that he didn’t want to let her go and possibly never would.

  After the moment had passed, she rolled off of him. Cronus got to his feet as well, and they both silently went to the control console and the radio. Cronus activated the transmitter. “We were worried about you. No word for so long. Victory is good news.”

  “It ain't victory yet, Cronus,” said Viekko on the other end. “Gabriel is on his way, and he’s not likely to be in a good mood when he gets here. But, if we can make him see reason, the Rainha is finished.”

  Joana gazed up at Cronus and smiled one of the most beautiful smiles Cronus had ever seen. “Thank you. I am in your debt for what you have done.”

  Cronus switched off the transmitter and looked into her dark blue-grey eyes. Something happened in that moment. He was never sure what it was—although he would later go to great personal expense trying to recreate it—but something primal awakened in him. In one motion, he pulled her close and kissed her. They bumped noses, his forehead slammed against hers, and there were some rather unflattering noises somewhere in the middle but, despite that, it was nice.

  After a while, he pulled away. He had no idea how she would react. He was half expecting another punch to the face and part of his body tensed as a result. But she stood there for a moment as if she was trying to process something herself.

  “Sorry?” he offered. Just in case.

  Joana smiled, grabbed his hand and started leading him toward the door that led farther into the ancient ship.

  “Where are we going?” he asked, trying his best to avoid tripping over the junk scattered around the floor.

  “I will show my gratitude,” she said, with a wicked little smile on her face.

  Cronus sucked in a sharp breath of air. “Does that mean…”

  “Do not speak. I would like to enjoy the moment, and you will only ruin it.”

  Cronus promptly shut his mouth. In his haste to keep up, he accidentally slammed his toe into a heavy box of tools. Maybe love was just like anything else outside the Neuvonet he thought, as he hobbled after Joana. Out here, where everything wasn’t controlled, love was awkward, clumsy, messy, and complicated, which is probably why the Neuvonet bored him. It was too perfect. In the worlds beyond the fabricated reality he and his people lived in for so long, nothing was exactly how it should be. Nothing felt completely right or followed any logical pattern.

  The perfection of the real world, Cronus decided, was in its imperfection.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Despite the Corporate attempt to conceal the truth of the Fall, new information comes to light even as I write this. Recently uncovered documents suggest that Diana Adriana was not among those who fled the planet to escape annihilation from the Corporation military. A radio recording has recently been discovered that appears to be the last address from the Lady of Fire to her people. If authentic, it not only provides proof that a large portion of the surviving Brazilian population escaped to an extra-terrestrial colony but also proves that Diana Adriana did not flee as Corporation propaganda would suggest.

  A thorough investigation into Corporate records will be required to discover any more about Adriana’s fate. While wild speculation is ultimately fruitless, I would like to believe that the Lady of Fire fought next to the people she loved until the end.

  -From The Fall, First Addendum: The Brazilian wars rediscovered by Martin Raffe

  Viekko filled a clay mug with hydromel and sat down next to the Rainha in the great hall of the Sala Gran. Isabel, being the type who would sit on a throne while her city burned, took her usual place at her private table against the wall opposite the giant doors. While they waited for Gabriel to arrive, the Corsario warriors forced the Cytherean soldiers to sit or stand in a tight circle in the middle of the room. The members of the invading force stood or paced along the perimeter with their lanca fogo at the ready.

  Isra stood next to Viekko watching the scene as well. Her eye flicked around the room looking at the faces, nervous ticks or anything else that might warn her of impending danger. Or maybe she was just trying to hide her own fear. “You spent time with Gabriel. Do you think he will see reason?” she asked, to break the silence.

  Viekko shifted. “He is loyal to his Rainha. But I got a feelin’ he’s got more loyalty toward Cytherea. Convince him that Isabel has been playin’ his people all along, and to their detriment, and he might turn. Problem is, I think it might take more than a pile of guns to make that happen.”

  “What else can we show him?” she asked flatly.

  “Still workin’ the details on that.”

  A small, evil cackle from the Rainha made them turn around. “Gabriel’s loyalty is absolute,” Isabel said, smiling. “He and my people will fight you until the last man dies. You will not leave this place alive.”

  Viekko sighed and put his mug down on the table. He shot a glance at Isra thinking about how scarily similar the two women were. “And what makes you say that Rainha Isabel?” He added a sarcastic tone to her official title.

  “When Gabriel arrives, you will have one choice. How you want to die. Surrender and you will receive an honorable execution. You have shown bravery and cunning. Cytherea respects that. Resist and the rest of your life will be spent in misery and pain. I think I will take both your eyes.” She looked at Isra, still smiling. “You, I will keep as you are. For now. I want you to watch as I blind and dismember your people. And when your suffering becomes too much, I will take you to a dark place and leave you there. You will starve in darkness. The only sustenance you will have for that short time will be those memories.”

  Isra marched around to the front of the table and pointed Viekko’s gun at Isabel’s head. “Threaten all you wish,” Isra hissed angrily. “Your spell is broken. We have shown Cytherea that it does not need you. Your cruelty and oppression will not be tolerated any longer.”

  The Rainha barely flinched. “Really? You have brought Corsario to the center of the city. Threatened its soldiers and its Rainha. If anything, the people will be more afraid. And, if I die, then I will die a martyr of Cytherea. The citizens will never again question the wisdom of our rule.”

  Isra and Viekko exchanged brief but nervous glances. How had neither of them thought of that? For some reason, Viekko had it in his mind that, even if they failed, what they accomplished would create such a disruption in Cytherean society that nothing would ever be the same. That wasn’t the case, and Isra realized it just as Viekko did. If Cytherea ran on fear, then they were trying to put out a fire by throwing gasoline on it.

  Viekko looked out at the Corsario holding watch over their captives. A few overheard the conversation so far, and it was spreading through the room in hushed tones and whispers.

  A loud bang on the wooden doors caused everyone in the room to jump. Viekko stood up, drank the rest of the honey wine, and slammed the mug down. “Very well Rainha, if victory is the only option then that’s the one we go with.”

  Viekko crossed the room, drew his gun, and ordered nearby Corsario to open the door a crack. They pulled it open just enough for Viekko to see Gabriel and the entire Cytherean army just behind him in the courtyard. “Lower your weapon!” Gabriel called out. “I have come to discuss the release of Rainha Isabel Maximilliano.”

  “Well?” asked Isra, approaching closer.

  Viekko leaned back inside and holstered his weapon. “Looks like we’re in trouble. He’s usin’ all three of her names.” He glanced at Isra’s una
mused face and added, “He wants to talk, that’s promisin’ at least.”

  He leaned back toward the cracked door and called, “Isra and I will come out to talk. If anything happens to us, the Rainha and everyone else in here dies. Understand?”

  Gabriel sneered. “If the Rainha remains unharmed, then no harm will come to you.”

  Viekko, with his back to the door, exchanged looks with Isra. They reached an agreement that didn’t need to be stated out loud. Isra would take the lead in the negotiations, and Viekko would provide support if required. Everything needed to be flawless.

  As they walked out through the doors, the soldiers parted, forming a very long, dangerous corridor. Hundreds of eyes watched them; hundreds of hands tightened around spears. One word from Gabriel and the walls would close in, and the only question would be how many spears their combined bodies could hold without falling apart.

  The Cytherean Captain waited at the end of the line. As they approached, he handed his spear to a soldier nearby and took off his crested helmet.

  Isra stopped and took a deep breath. “I want you to know that Rainha Isabel is safe and in our custody. She is being treated in a fashion befitting her station. We are here to negotiate her release.”

  Gabriel stepped forward so that he towered over the relatively small woman. “Very well,” he said. “If you release her and the rest of the people inside the Sala I will guarantee you an honorable death—”

  “We have demands,” Isra interrupted. “First and foremost is the safety of our crew and everyone involved with—”

  Gabriel leaned forward and shouted in her face. “There will be no demands! You have betrayed us, led enemies into our city and defiled a sacred space and the honor of our Rainha. The only option you have is to give up and die quickly. The honor of Cytherea demands nothing less!”

  There it was again, Viekko thought. There was something about Gabriel’s face, especially his eyes. Viekko found them striking when he first arrived. They were deep blue and seemed to follow Viekko wherever he went. The shape of his face, the way his jaw was set… Viekko had seen it somewhere else. His mind reeled as he tried to put it together.

  Isra composed herself. “Gabriel, Captain of the Cytherean Guard, I have come in good faith. Help me to reach a compromise—”

  “There will be no compromise!” Gabriel raised his hand as if he might hit her, but she didn’t flinch. “Turn around and tell your men to surrender their weapons and release the Rainha. I will not ask again.”

  Isra took a step back. “I will not accept any deal that does not, at least, consider the safety of my people. Without that, I cannot guarantee the safety of the Rainha.”

  Gabriel smiled. “Stupid girl. I would rather the Rainha die by my own hand than watch the Cytherean army surrender to the likes of you. The Rainha protects her people, not the other way around. If she has to die to protect this city, she will die a hero.”

  Viekko felt the urge to say something. He touched Isra on the shoulder, they exchanged glances and she nodded. He stepped forward. “Gabriel, listen to me. You have sacrificed so much to defend the city. The Rainha sacrifices nothing. She does not lose soldiers when the Corsario raid, she does not witness friends and comrades die at the Modesto Wall and she has never been forced to leave a child…”

  Viekko stopped as a realization hit. At that moment, Viekko remembered where he’d seen that look before.

  “What is it, Viekko?” Isra whispered.

  Viekko leaned close to Isra. “Stall for just a moment, I gotta get someone.”

  Before Isra could protest, Viekko ran back through the lines of soldiers and into the Sala Gran. The Corsario soldiers, nervously watching the captive Cythereans, straightened up when Viekko entered, anxious for any news.

  “Alexandre!” Viekko called out. “Alexandre! I need your help!”

  The Corsario warrior, pacing near the captives with his lanca fogo cradled in his arms, looked up suspiciously at Viekko but approached.

  “Come with me. Hurry.” Viekko turned back toward the main doors.

  “What is going on? Will the Cythereans attack?” Alexandre asked while following behind.

  “Just come with me.” Viekko paused by the open door. “And leave your weapon here.”

  Alexandre leaned his musket against the wall and followed Viekko outside. The minute the Corsario’s eyes adjusted to the brightness and he saw the armed and ready Cythereans nearly surrounding him, he almost bolted back inside. But Viekko motioned for him to continue forward. Gabriel watched Alexandre approach with the same expression most people use when they look at the bottom of their shoe to see what they just stepped in.

  Viekko and Alexandre stopped just a few feet away from Gabriel. The Captain looked his enemy over, and the expression on his face didn’t change much. “Who is this man?”

  Alexandre, for his part, glared at Gabriel with such a look of hatred that Viekko was nervous that he might do something stupid. He started to speak, but Viekko jumped in first. “Gabriel, I want you to meet your son, Alexandre.”

  For the first time, Gabriel actually looked at the man Viekko brought before him. The thing was Gabriel and Alexandre appeared almost identical, especially around the eyes. Take Gabriel, throw away the Cytherean fineries, have him lose some of his bulk, soften some of the hard lines in his face, add scrubby facial hair and long matted dreadlocks and you’d have Alexandre. In a sense, they looked like the same person from two parallel universes whose lives had taken drastically different directions. And now, both men stood and stared open-mouthed as they tried to process what they were seeing. Their eyes scanned every inch of the other, as if looking for something, anything, that would make it all not true.

  Gabriel was the first to speak. He raised his hand as if he were about to touch his son’s face. “How… how is this possible?”

  Alexandre backed away from the soldier. “There’s a long-standing agreement. We didn’t know with whom, but we rescue and care for the children discarded by the city. In return, we got weapons and were told where we could safely raid. It has been that way since before I was born.”

  Gabriel shook his head. “What agreement?”

  Isra looked at Viekko and smiled. He stepped back and let Isra take it from here. “It is how the Rainha controls the city. We found where she was storing lanca fogo inside the Sala. She tells them which farms to attack. It is how she knew that a major attack was coming today.”

  Gabriel blinked back tears. “The Corsario…”

  “The Corsario are Cythereans,” Isra explained. “They are your sons and daughters, nieces and nephews, tossed outside the city where they could be molded into your worst fear.”

  Gabriel stepped forward and placed his hand on Alexandre’s shoulder. “Alexandre...son. I didn’t know.”

  Alexandre straightened up. His face remained hard but, to Viekko, it looked as if he too were fighting to keep from giving in to the moment. “I...my people assumed that those who were left were rejected by their family.”

  Gabriel stepped forward and hugged the younger man. “It was not my decision. I was not even present when you were born. Your mother told me that you were deemed unworthy.” He released Alexandre, stepped back and looked at the Sala Gran. “It was the Rainha. She made the decision.”

  There was only one thing left to do, but it would be risky. Viekko turned and charged back through the slightly opened door of the Sala. The Corsario standing nearby looked startled as he ran inside. They seemed to press closer to their captives, the muzzles of their lanca fogo shook as they did. Viekko went around the room, touching the end of their barrels to lower them. “Be calm. There will be no fight. The Rainha’s lies have come to an end. Come with me. Come see what Cytherea really is.”

  He moved toward the door beckoning several to follow him, and they emerged in groups of four or five and stopped dead in front of the line of Cytherean soldiers. Viekko swallowed hard as he watched more and more Corsario warriors file out of the Sala.
Once they saw the Cythereans, they held their weapons close to their body and waited. The Cythereans, in turn, stood frozen on the opposite side, waiting for some sign of aggression from the murderous savages from beyond the wall.

  For several tense moments, Viekko wondered if he had acted too soon. There was still so much hatred and mistrust, this could just as easily end in a pitched battle as it could in any kind of alliance.

  The crowd on the Cytherean side opened up. Isra walked out with Gabriel and Alexandre on either side, a look of supreme confidence on her face. She stopped between the two groups and gave Gabriel a meaningful look.

  Gabriel cleared his throat, turned and addressed his men. “Our job is to defend the city and people of Cytherea. We’ve done this job with honor, but we never asked who we were fighting.” He turned to Alexandre. “We’ve been fighting our children and our brothers, lost to us because the Rainha required that we have an enemy. We lived in fear so that she could control us.” He extended his hand toward Alexandre. “I am tired of fighting. I am tired of being controlled.”