ceiling even, and no one knew their exact position as they shifted every twenty-four hours. One thing was certain though – he couldn’t leave this task in the hands of a group of soldiers that never entered the palace before. He needed a body if he was to succeed.
Four hours into the walk, the wind picked up in speed and the group found themselves surrounded by an orange mist biting through joints and limbs. Even the rags weren’t enough to keep the dust from getting through. And it wasn’t just that. Lucius strained his eyes but found it almost impossible to see anything that was more than twenty meters away. He was certain that if it weren’t for the cranial computers the group would’ve been lost by now.
Fifteen minutes later, the wind whooshed louder and louder, and pushed them back harder and harder. The soldiers leaned forward, their full weight at an angle but it was still not enough. The wind was winning the fight. They struggled like that for a while until a forlorn building became visible to their right. Lucius decided his men should take a rest and cool their bodies and wait for the winds to slow down. It was pointless wasting energy like this.
They found the building windowless and mostly empty, only worn out paintings on the walls proved that someone used to reside here. Maybe people still sheltered in the building as its tick walls proved quite valuable in weather like this. Arrius activated his flashlight with wide beam and took a seat on a round rock next to the wall. Lucius came down with him. Two of his soldiers that carried the crates with Lucius’s new body put them on the ground and joined the rest in removing the rags from their bodies. They tapped them and flapped them to clean the dust.
Lucius moved his eyes from his men to the crates, craving to have their contents on him. “Has the doctor replied to you?” he asked the captain.
Captain Arrius pulled the scarf off his head and rubbed his skin. He then half turned. “Not yet. But he will.”
That wasn’t good. “What if he is not on Palatine?”
“I think he had his share of wars. I doubt he will join another.”
“Do you know at least where he is located?” Lucius asked.
“Last time I heard he was in the city slums. Though he may have moved by now.”
Lucius would’ve been angered by the thought of visiting that area not long ago when he was the prince, the perfect golden man. He was still disgusted to go as low as the slums, it was true, but he cared only about his body now. He was willing to give anything to have it.
“If he is there, do you think we will be able to find him?”
“I believe so. In an abandoned city that shouldn’t be a problem. We can ask here and there, someone will certainly know.”
An hour later they resumed their walk. The winds were slowly dying down, and by the time the city walls became visible in the distance there were almost no winds and no dust whooshing around. But now the sky was heavily overcast and thunderstorms brewed fowl weather somewhere above.
Lucius found himself staring over the city for a while. He couldn’t help but notice how little traffic there was. No quadcopters traversed over their heads, no shuttles landing or launching into space. Not to mention merchant ships coming or going from the docks. The only transportation that did move was two garbage disposal ships that took off into space to dump their cargo. And those ships were automated. They would find a city of ghosts like the ancient ruins they left behind, Lucius was certain.
Helvius was the first to activate his grav-boots once they reached the walls. He started walking up. Bruttius went after him while the rest waited for a status report.
Lucius tried to recall the height of the walls as he watched both men ascend toward the darkening skies. Was it hundred and fifty meters or two hundred? He couldn’t remember. For a moment he wished Doctor Modius didn’t remove his cranial computer. It always came in handy in spitting useless information while waiting.
Heads up – sent Helvius once he disappeared out of sight – We have movement inside the city.
Movement? What could possibly move in a city of ghosts, Lucius wanted to ask. But decided to wait and see the answer for himself.
Bruttius dropped a cable from above on which one of the emperor’s men attached the silver crates. The cable whizzed, pulling the crates up.
Be careful, Bruttius – Lucius sent to the man – unless you want to spend more time in a dungeon. We do not have any spare limbs, remember that.
I will guard them with my life, Your Highness.
Everyone else activated their grav-boots and started their ascent. It was only Lucius who felt utterly useless. He couldn’t keep his mind off from having a pair of legs, from walking and climbing and running and jumping, and using those legs to get his throne back.
Soon…
They reached the top and Arrius climbed over a handrail. Above his shoulder Lucius peered as much as he could to find out what the movement was. It turned out they didn’t find a city of ghosts as he thought they would, but a city of chaos and destruction and filth. The entire city was covered in orange sand and garbage, and everyone who lived in the city slums was now in the upper parts, scavenging and stealing from houses of the rich, and throwing their furniture and belongings on the streets. The sound of metal against metal echoed across the city, occasionally interrupted by discharging beam weapons that gave flashes of light in the otherwise unlit streets.
Thieves, Lucius thought angrily. If he had his throne and the command over his military force, he would’ve had these wretched thieves executed on spot.
“The power grid is down,” said Arrius.
A group of not more than ten people with pipes and pistols in their hands decided that no power meant free pass toward the palace, so they ran for it. It was quite obvious what they wanted to achieve. And then two turrets arose from the floor at the entrance and sliced into them. Synthetic skin melted and metal shattered and fell off their bodies. Lucius winced at the thought that the same might happen to him and his men if they weren’t careful.
Arrius half turned his head, but Lucius was first to say, “The palace has its own power supply, if that is what you wanted to ask.”
The captain nodded. “Entering the palace will not be like fighting inside a cargo hold of a merchant ship.”
Lucius didn’t bother to reply to that. He asked, “Is there any word from the doctor?”
Arrius shook his head this time. “I am afraid no, Lucius.”
Damn him. Lucius raised his voice. “Okay, soldiers. We came here to take my throne back and that is what we shall do.” They all nodded and if Lucius could see their faces under their helmets he was certain they had wide smiles on their faces. “But first we find the doctor. I intend to walk inside my palace.”
They slammed their boots on the rampart and roared “Lucius!” in a single voice.
Bruttius prepared the crates for their descent. Everyone else stopped at the handrail overlooking the city. They exchanged quick glances, and when the emperor nodded they all jumped.
The landing sent jolts of pain into Lucius’s head, but he bit his scream. He was an emperor, not a coward.
As soon as the crates came down the wall, the group started toward the slums. Two soldiers carried the crates, two soldiers went scouting ahead of the group, and two walked behind. Only two soldiers remained close to the captain and their emperor, their rifles on standby.
They sneaked behind houses to avoid the main street and headed south until they reached the street that connected Forum Magnum with the merchant district. Occasional flashes of pulse rifles and beam weapons lit the streets on the other side.
“Where did they get such weaponry?” Lucius whispered at the captain.
“Most of the people in the slums are ex-military. They might have raided an armory or two somewhere on Palatine.”
“We better be careful then. We do not have the luxury of losing men.”
They reached the merchant district without stumbling on gangs and thieves. But on the emperor’s surprise there were no thieves that roamed the hangars
and storages and no one fought ferociously for its contents. Empty storages and hangars stood tall and silent on both sides of the street. All of the landing pads were empty. There was not a single merchant ship in sight. Maybe landing here wouldn’t have been a bad idea. It would’ve saved them few hours of walking and the improvised air support would’ve been closer.
As they moved through the district, Lucius understood why the district was deserted. It turned out the mob was here long before they moved to the upper capital.
Arrius avoided stepping on a door that was dented and burned and thrown meters away from its rightful place. The empty doorway to the left was blackened on the edges. Lucius looked around the entrance where burned pieces of metal and concrete were strewed everywhere.
Where did the poor get money for explosives? Lucius wanted to ask. But then he remembered. “Let me guess,” he said, “ex-military know-how.”
“Indeed.” Arrius explained, “They do not need coin to buy explosives. They can manufacture it with ease.”
If Lucius knew about this when he was a prince he would’ve had them executed before they posed any threat to his people. Now it’s too late.
It turned out that it wasn’t just one door destroyed by explosives. They passed near three more storage houses with wide open holes instead of doorways, the contents inside emptied already, no doubt.
Next to an entrance of a storage building owned by House Pinarius, lay three
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