Silent Rising

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Silent Rising Page 17

by Kliment Dukovski

the best thing that Lucius had heard in his life.

  It didn’t take them long to reach the pod. The soldier was already inside and activated the pod’s computer. He helped Lucius buckle up in his seat. Arrius took a seat next to his emperor.

  “Let us leave this place,” Lucius ordered.

  “Soldier,” Arrius said, “you heard His Highness.”

  The soldier tapped some buttons over the pod’s command dashboard. The pod shuddered and off they went.

  Lucius turned and watched Lightning Bolt limp with one flickering engine after the massive battleship that still struggled to turn. Arrius had pressed his face to the window. He watched how his ship was getting away from him.

  Aquila had finally managed to turn, but too late. There was a flash of bright light. Lucius put his hand over the window to shield his eyes. Quickly as that the brightness imploded. Secondary explosions on Aquila’s hull spread from its engines, consuming every deck in a deadly fire as it extended toward the bridge.

  “Burn, you scum,” Lucius mumbled on the thought of Lartius getting closer to his death.

  Arrius shook his head. His lips were pressed together, eyebrows lowered. Lucius put a hand over the captain’s shoulder. “I will get you a better ship. One you deserve. I promise.”

  Arrius nodded, but his eyes still gazed at the Aquila. It was now nothing more than scattered pieces of metal, still exploding and breaking down. Maybe some of his crew survived, maybe none did.

  “It was a good ship,” Arrius said. He lowered his head, and then he stood up and moved away from the window. He had it enough.

  But Lucius was still looking.

  “Your Highness,” he heard Arrius say. The captain held a shiny crate in his hands. He opened its door and a pair of military-grade legs lay inside. “We have your legs.” Arrius turned toward another crate. “And arms. And a full soldier’s body.”

  Lucius took a quick glance at the soldier sitting at the pilot’s seat. He tried to imagine having that same body instead of the ruined one he was left with. It was a tall body with improved reflexes and strength. Its muscles were black carbon nanotubes hidden under gray metal plates. It was not nearly close to the golden body he lost, but it was a step closer to reclaiming his throne.

  Arrius lowered his head. “I am sorry I could not find more suitable body for you, Your–”

  “It will do,” said Lucius. “And from now on you will call me Lucius. I command you.” His friends called him that. Olybrius, Macrinus, Carus even. But they were gone now. Arrius was his friend now, and a damn fine friend he turned out to be.

  “Your Highness?” said the soldier.

  “What is it…?” Lucius wanted to say soldier, but his eyes zoomed at his name tag. “Helvius,” he said.

  “You have to see this,” said Helvius. He pressed couple of buttons and a screen above the dashboard sprang to life.

  Images of Palatine’s capitol played. Forum Magnum filled with grieving people. Some of them cried, others lowered their heads, but all of them were sad enough. There was a procession in the middle – a long line of Praetorians carrying a man in ceremonious bed made out of pure gold. It was a funeral and the man they carried was Emperor Titus.

  Lucius’s only hand curled into a fist of anger, his teeth gritted to another pain threshold. How dares the usurper mock me like this?

  Female voice started talking in the background. “Our great Emperor Titus will be remembered as the greatest ruler of all. But now, ladies and gentlemen, I present you our new emperor. May the gods favor his rule.” Lucius glared at the screen as the camera moved over the palace and then stopped over a wide balcony between two obelisks, overlooking Forum Magnum. Red banners flapped relentlessly, golden eagles dancing emblazoned in the middle. Below them Praetorian Guards stood with pride.

  Traitors! You are all traitors! Lucius’s fist now hurt, his teeth were almost displaced. And then the massive doors swung open. Crowds in the forum cheered and applauded. Praetorians moved aside. The man that killed Emperor Titus and stole his throne took a step through the door. His feet of Imperial steel and gold trod over the red carpet. His legs and body decorated like a true emperor with golden geometric shapes and medals, strode forward. His chin was covered in golden flames that went up all the way to make up a hair of golden fire. His face above the lips and between flames was covered in skin. His eyes were black and deadly. Lucius released his fist. His jaw dropped; a welcoming relief for his teeth. His cybernetic heart almost skipped a beat.

  The usurper walked down the balcony. He stopped at the edge – people swarming below like insects – his hands rose up. The crowd went frantic, crying his name over and over and over again.

  Their savior.

  Their protector.

  Their emperor.

  Lucius Cornelius Venator.

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  Table of Contents

  FLESH AND STEEL

  SYSTEM MAP

  LUCIUS

  AILIOS

  LUCIUS

  AILIOS

  LUCIUS

  AILIOS

  LUCIUS

  AILIOS

  LUCIUS

 


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