ROMA

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by R. A. Ender




  ROME’S LEGACY

  In all his years, Richard could never remember any Defense Force ship losing Telegod connection. It was, for all practical argument, impossible. Standing up, Richard turned to look at Mato.

  “Mato, how can we have lost connection?”

  Mato was furiously punching commands into his station, ignoring Richard. After a moment, he pushed himself back from the station and spun his chair around.

  “Our communications array is working one hundred percent. The problem is we can’t connect to a single satellite anywhere in the Confederacy.”

  Richard was stunned for the briefest moment. He was about to speak when a new alert sounded from the command station.

  “Captain, that ship is moving again,” Jennifer stated in a raised voice. Everyone turned to watch the forward display which showed the silhouetted ship rotating.

  ROMA

  The First Novel from the New Earth Universe

  R. A. ENDER

  This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictious, and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.

  ROMA

  Copyright 2017 by Ronald Andrew Brabender

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.

  Cover art by Adam Burn

  ISBN: 978-0-9959414-0-3

  First Edition: March 2017

  Printed in Canada

  Acknowledgments

  It has been a goal of mine to write a novel based on my childhood imagined world for many years. Only laziness has kept me from writing this story faster.

  I’ve been inspired and influenced by many authors and creators of science fiction. If you read carefully you will see many subtle (and not so subtle) homages to these influences on my creative evolution. Isaac Asimov receives my endless thanks and admiration. Without his many books, especially the Foundation trilogy, I would never have written a novel.

  Other influences include Star Trek, Star Wars, Babylon 5, Ender’s Game, Dune, The Price of the Stars and history in general. All the authors and writers who created these works helped me create my world.

  I apologize to you, the reader, in advance for my created words you will need to research to understand, my repetitive use of certain words (I have no editor to correct them) and any other grammar issues that detract from the reading experience (again, no editor).

  Finally, I want to thank my family. I never locked myself away to write this book, they never suffered in its writing. Instead they inspired me to write a book that might help support my family in the future doing something I enjoy, writing and creating.

  I hope you enjoy this novel. I have many more stories from this universe if there is demand enough for me to write them.

  R.A. Ender

  CHAPTER 1

  “I was born Richard Octavius Hilbornus. My parents, drawing on our races twin historic timelines, named me after King Richard the Lionheart of England and Gaius Octavius Thurinus, better known to history as Augustus. Now, with a name such as that, they obviously hoped from the day I was born that I would become a leader for our people. As it turned out, I did.”

  “However, why a mid-level engineer working at the Roma Graviton Fusion Power facility in the Southern District and his retail store clerk wife felt that their first child was destined for greatness from the outset is quite difficult to fathom. Certainly, our family history suggested no such thing.”

  “My mother was a runaway from her family at the young age of fifteen. She never discussed her home life but I always imagined that it must have been terrible for her to have left. Especially when I was.....”

  “System...Delete!”

  And with that, the screen crumpled and the sound of a sheet of paper being balled up and thrown into a waste bin played out over the room sound system. Though certainly not as pleasing as actually destroying the page itself, it did at least give some comfort.

  That’s the worst start to this book yet! Richard thought as he let out a sigh. No one cares about my family. Likely, no one even cares about me. I don’t see why my publisher thinks she’ll sell one damn copy of my story.

  Every writing session began with the same inflated confidence that the pages about to be written would captivate the reader, sustain, move, bring to tears and compel one to the end. That demands for a sequel would be deafening and, without question, the original would be adapted into a play for a multi-media presentation.

  Inevitably, of course, every writing session would also end the same way. To date, nothing had been written and saved.

  Regardless, his publisher kept sending messages pleading for something. She had almost gone as far as requesting that Defense Force permit a civilian to accompany his ship on its current patrol. A civilian writer who would tell his story with skill and finally put his tales into print. Fortunately, the Commanders Rights Regulations gave him finally authority over passengers on board, so his threat to close the airlock doors on the toes of anyone trying to get on board that he didn’t like ended that possibility.

  Still, there was something appealing about writing. He could still remember how much he enjoyed stories written by great authors of New and Old Earth. As his parents had had such great hopes for him in life, he always had a special love for stories about child wonders. He enjoyed watching them excel, and was taken along with them as they tried to come to terms with their own uniqueness and power. He could remember the unrelenting rise to power of Paul Atreides. He could remember the feeling of being an outcast and establishing unbreakable friendships with Ender Wiggin. He could remember the loss of the old world and the joy of forging a new one with Julius Aurelianus.

  He also loved political and historical stories, especially when you didn’t know how the heroes would survive. He could still remember the historic struggles between Roma and Ebos, as told by the greatest writer of history, Livius Secondus. He loved the epic tale of settler struggle and triumph in the Foundation series, always in wonder at the parallels to New Earth history. And of course, he never read a novel faster than he did The Price of the Stars.

  Often, he had tried to emulate these novels and stories that he loved. The ideas would float through his mind for days and weeks, sometimes even months. One afternoon he would just start writing. Other times he would prepare ahead, get all his characters, timelines and details in order before starting. In the end, inevitably, he would run out of interest.

  Sometimes he couldn’t write as quickly as his mind created. Sometimes he surrendered to self-doubt and self-criticism. Many times his duties simply overwhelmed him. And mostly, it was just easier to read, watch or listen to what another had created.

  So, when a publisher spoke with him when he was on leave a couple years ago and told him that she knew there was a market for his story, it had reignited his interest. If a successful biography could be written, or at least a war story, it could be the beginning of a real career. Or more accurately, a stable planet based career.

  I’ve been too long in space. Richard thought to himself, now sitting in his desk chair slightly slouched and feeling a little saddened.

  I’ve sacrificed a lot for the Confederacy; maybe it’s time for something new.

  And if it were the first time he had thought these things maybe they would have credibility. But, every writing session ended with that same sense. The sense that despite being a war hero, a highly decorated officer and a damn fine commander, life was just moving along without a purpose.

  Richard had never managed to find time for a family. Few commanding officers ever did, unless it was a strained and poor interplanetary one. Even fewer had children who they would recognize or know which level of school they had achieved by their birthday. And what birthday was that?

>   The sacrifice for the service was one of splendid isolation. But eventually, even the best grew tired. And for Captain Richard Hilbornus, that time was growing near.

  Maybe I should retire when my 25 years comes due in ten months, he thought to himself. I could move home to live near LaGuardius Seccus, consult for New Earth Defense Alliance. A nice home, a big property near the Southern Forest Reserve, a pet! It could be nice.

  And, of course, I would be close to Heather.

  With that thought, Richard leaned back in his chair and let out a bigger sigh. He also turned his little sadness into a deeper depression and a frown at that thought.

  It has been so long since I saw her. Far too long.

  A shake of the head and a half smile twitch was all he could manage. Heather, Heather, Heather.

  Heather was one of those key life moments when a single decision is made that sets one down a path. Had the opposing decision been made, the path would have been completely different. This moment was in fact so key that Richard had debated it constantly for the past 30 years. And never once did that debate get resolved.

  If only I had stayed with her instead of going to Cornwallis, how different life would be, Richard thought to himself. How much happier.

  Thinking about that alternative life always made him smile. They seemed destined to spend their lives together. In the small industry town where they both grew up, everyone worked for the power plants. Everyone that stayed ended up working for the power plants. Only those who left escaped that life. Heather and I had decided to leave.

  Not quite sure when it happened, childhood memory is a fragile thing. However, Richard’s memory was a winter day. Richard and Heather crossed the country road to play on the frozen swampland. In the summer it had a constant level of water, not too high to cause problems, but high enough not to make for a fun place to run and play. But, in the winter time, that layer of water froze quickly and permanently, and you could toboggan down the embankment and slide forever! The only danger was the occasional tree that managed to grow out of that environment. The goal was to slide as far as the embankment on the other side of the swamp where the Grav-rail track lay.

  That day, they had been sliding for over an hour. On what was to be the last run, though they had said that many times before, Richard pushed off the side of the road, down the embankment and out onto the ice. The sled just kept sliding and sliding. Richard turned to watch Heather get smaller and smaller. A big smile on his face, turning back just in time to see the tree.

  It was a hard hit. The sled went one way, and Richard hit the tree face first and bounced onto the ice head first. Despite the hard hit, he did remain conscious. Lying on his back, looking up at the sky., Richard didn’t feel any pain. Despite that, he didn’t want to get up, and in that moment he didn’t know why he didn’t want to.

  After what seemed to be a long time, he heard a voice. It was soft at first but then got louder. Suddenly, Heather’s face appeared in front of his view of the sky. She was speaking but he couldn’t understand the words. No doubt from her face, she was worried and scared. Not wanting her to worry, Richard tried to comfort her by telling her that his sled was built by his Dad, and it’s sure to be fine.

  For a reason that he couldn’t understand that didn’t make her happy or calm. He had figured, if she was concerned about the sled, knowing that would help. Of course, very confused at the time, he didn’t realize her worry and fear was for him.

  She forced him to sit up with his back against the very tree that had put him on the ice. She was rubbing Richard’s head with her hands and touching his face gently. It made me very happy, he recalled. Then, he felt the pain!

  The side of his face burned and his head began to pound furiously. Richard sighed, winced, and Heather grabbed him and hugged him tightly. At that moment, she told him for the first time that she would never leave him.

  She looked me in the eye, with a little tear, and said, “I love you. I’m never going anywhere without you. Please be ok!” And with that, she kissed me on the lips, Richard remembered. The memory replaced his earlier feeling of malaise with one of great warmth.

  With some effort, they managed to walk back to her Mom’s house. She wasn’t there, of course, working at the plant. But all that was needed to clean up was. Richard just lay on the couch while Heather cleaned him up. She got some of her Dad’s old clothes that her Mom hadn’t the heart to throw out yet. After that, she disappeared downstairs for a little bit to run a load of laundry, but she returned and sat on the floor next to him.

  “Are you feeling better?” she asked, looking at the warm medicinal drink she’d brewed for him. Richard only nodded.

  She looked down for a moment and then back up at his eyes. The stare lingered for a moment before she moved to scan the room.

  “You know, my Mom said that she knew Dad was the one she wanted to marry after he got a terrible virus and was sick in bed for over two weeks.”

  Heather didn’t look back at Richard; she just kept moving her focus to different objects. Richard kept looking at her. He had always seen her as just one of his friends. They had played together since they were very young. Even when he grew up and started not liking girls, as boys often do, he still played with Heather.

  Now, though, he was on the cusp of adolescence, and Heather was already there. He hadn’t noticed it before today. But, with her showing how much she cared for him in word and action, his brain finally started to notice the obvious. Her shoulder length hair, a dirty blond color, was very nice. It was just short enough to reveal her neck which ran gracefully down to her shoulders in a pleasing curve. Her shirt was pulled tight from her posture revealing the outline of her bra straps. For some reason, up until today, he had not even thought of Heather wearing a bra. It seemed like a really grown up thing to do.

  She snuck a peek back at him through her hair while he was looking at her. “What?” She asked.

  Richard was about to answer when she turned to face him.

  “I do love you, you know. I’m not just saying that. My Mom has told me a lot about how she felt and what my Dad was like with her. That’s how we are together.”

  She placed both her hands on his and continued. “Mom says you are still a little immature, but that’s ok.” And with that, she lifted herself up with her knees and gave Richard his second kiss of the day. The second kiss of his life.

  She sat back again, with a smile. But then her eyes got sad, and her smile disappeared.

  “All I want you to promise me is that you won’t leave me. My Dad promised me that he wouldn’t leave me, but he did. It wasn’t his fault, but he did. I loved him a lot, we always played together, and read together, and he always kissed me good night.” Tears began forming in her eyes.

  “When I saw you hit the tree, I thought you were going to leave me too.” She sniffed back her tears, straightened up and seemed to instantly settle herself.

  “So, if I’m going to love you, you have to promise never to leave me. I don’t want to stay in this town; I want to go to school in Cornwallis like my sister. Then I want to get a good job, good enough that Mom doesn’t have to work anymore. I’m not sure how to do that yet, but I know I can’t do it here. So, I need you to promise that you’ll come with me wherever I go. And, that you won’t let me stay here. Deal?” She asked while putting her hand out to shake on the agreement.

  Richard was a little startled by the whole conversation, but he remembered thinking, I love you, Heather. And if he loved her, why would he ever leave her? Thinking back, Richard didn’t think he was mature enough to fully understand everything that was going on. Heather seemed to be quite sure, and that made him feel quite sure as well, at the time.

  Reaching forward, Richard clasp Heather’s hand. He shook her hand. Using that connection, Heather pulled herself up to hug him and Richard earned his third kiss.

  After that day, he didn’t see Heather for a while. He found out later that she had been grounded because she had someone
over when her Mom was at work. I don’t think her Mom ever realized who it was, Richard thought to himself.

  As they advanced in school, he and Heather always competed to be the best when it came time to check their level on their birthdays. No matter what he did, Heather always beat him. Not by a lot, but enough for her to prance around for a few days.

  They were never boyfriend and girlfriend like many teenagers, but they were closer than any of those couples anyways. At sixteen, they both went to work for the local grocery store. It was a fun job since they had a few friends who worked there as well. They often ended up closing together on weekends, and always walked home together.

  One night, for some reason, Heather stayed late even though her shift ended. She said she wanted to wait to walk home, even refusing to join her friends who were going out to watch a play. Richard didn’t think much of it at the time and kept working. They turned off the lights, closed the door and he locked it. He turned to walk home when Heather grabbed his hand.

  “Can we just sit and talk for a bit first?” She asked.

  “Sure,” he said not thinking about why just happy to spend time with his friend after a long shift. They walked to the back of the building where a small hill rose with bushes and grass. They walked up and sat on the hill. They just sat, not talking, for a little bit. Finally, Richard lay back and looked up at the stars.

 

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