Muses of Terra (Codex Antonius Book 2)

by Rob Steiner

  “Unless you want to cook something, I suggest we go,” she said finally. “The other armored cars are two blocks away.”

  She went out the back door without another word.

  Cordus, still unable to speak, turned to the Romans behind him who stared suspiciously at Aquilina, unsure of whether to follow her. Ulpius brushed passed them.

  “Liberti spy or not, the woman saved our lives,” he rumbled. “I’m following her.”

  He paused to pick up the pulse rifle from the golem near the door, then exited into the sunlight.

  Cordus was surprised when the other Romans looked to him rather than Ulpius. “Let’s go,” Cordus said, then stepped over the pocked steel tables that had shielded them.

  The three Romans picked up the rifles and pulse clips from the downed golems and then followed him.

  Cordus entered an alley behind the tavern. Tib’s body had been thrown to one side. Ulpius knelt over it with hard eyes. He took a ring from Tib’s left hand and put it into his pocket.

  Ulpius met Cordus’s eyes. “Family signet.”

  He marched after Aquilina, who was at the end of the alley peeking around the corner. Cordus hurried after Ulpius, the other three Romans behind him.

  He watched Aquilina take the point position with the skill of someone who’d done it her whole life.

  Gods, what did I just do?

  14

  By the end of the fourth day of their journey to Reantium, Ocella wished for whatever sleep the aliens had used on them in the Menota system. Once again, she thought, like all humans, it was ironic that way line travel between the stars took a blink of the eye, whereas travel within local solar systems took days and sometimes weeks.

  On the first day, Ocella and Varo had removed their pressure suits and wore their ship jump suits. They were startled when the walls in the room suddenly shifted and changed, like clay molded by an unseen sculptor. Two ‘beds’ appeared from the wall on one side of the room, and then a small, enclosed latrine formed at the other end. The beds had a blue, gelatinous mattress dry to the touch, but formed to their bodies. The latrine looked the same as the one on Vacuna and worked just as well.

  Ocella looked forward to the times the Lucia golem delivered their ‘food’—a green, tasteless paste—and water, if only to break the monotony. If the aliens were curious about the Aramaic that Ocella and Varo spoke, the Lucia golem never commented. The golem simply delivered their food and then left without a word.

  With their basic physical needs satisfied, they occupied their minds by practicing their ancient Aramaic. Ocella’s skills seemed better than Varo’s, which she attributed to her Umbra training. Varo hadn’t spoken the language since he was a child and was only taught informally by his Hebrew grandmother. But with all their idle time, their conversation skills were improving.

  On the third day, the Lucia golem entered the room with a surprise: It finally had eyes instead of the unnerving black sockets. It still had gray skin with blue tendrils just beneath the surface, and even the eyes had hair-thin blue veins. Ocella was grateful for the differences, though, for it re-enforced the fact that she was not speaking with Lucia, and that this alien ship had killed her Trierarch.

  Ocella and Varo mostly watched the wall view. She wasn’t aware of any way line jumps, but she knew one must have occurred since what she assumed was Reantium grew on the wall by the hour. It was now a small blue marble in the center of the wall. Time seemed not to exist here, and she slept more often than she was awake. Varo was the same way. If anything, he seemed to sleep longer.

  On the fourth day, he was in such a lethargic state that he didn’t even want to practice their Aramaic. Ocella kept forcing him, until he finally snapped at her. “This is pointless!” he yelled in common Latin. “How is speaking some dead language going to get us out of here?”

  “Because,” she said calmly in Aramaic, “it will keep us from going insane. Now tell me again, in Aramaic, the prayers your grandmother taught you.”

  Varo stared at her with angry, desperate eyes. He sighed once, and then began reciting the prayers.

  Mostly, however, Ocella lay in her gel bed, watching the view of space and occupied with her own thoughts. She wondered why the aliens assumed Cordus was on Reantium. She was supposed to meet Kaeso and Vacuna on Reantium, not Cordus. If the aliens wanted Cordus, why didn’t they just go to Caesar Nova where he’d been the last six years? They could easily retrieve that information from Lucia’s memories.

  Could Kaeso have brought Cordus to Reantium, and Lucia somehow knew? Anger boiled in Ocella at the thought. They had agreed Cordus was not to leave Caesar Nova until he was properly trained and mentally prepared for the dangers that would find him wherever he went. He had become increasingly vocal on going on a Saturnist mission, especially with his eighteenth birthday approaching. And Kaeso had become increasingly sympathetic to Cordus’s arguments. Could he have finally convinced Kaeso? The last she’d heard, the situation on Reantium was tense, but no worse than any other planet in the war-torn Roman Republic. If there was any mission Cordus could convince Kaeso of bringing him along, it would be Reantium.

  What made Ocella most angry with Kaeso, however, was the thought he confided in Lucia and not her. Just thinking of the possibility made her teeth clench, which was irrational since she didn’t know for sure either way.

  But unless the aliens were lying to her—a distinct possibility—they were going to Reantium for one purpose: to make Cordus a “witness”, whatever that may be.

  A section of the wall irised open, startling Ocella. The Lucia golem, still naked, entered. Ocella’s stomach wasn’t growling, so she didn’t think it was time for a meal.

  Varo, in the bed next to hers, awoke and swung his legs onto the floor. He watched the Lucia golem with suspicious eyes.

  “We now orbit the planet you call Reantium,” the golem announced.

  The wall view still showed the blue marble of Reantium surrounded by empty space. “I thought this showed our current location,” Ocella said.

  The Lucia golem looked at the wall view. It suddenly changed to show a Terran-class planet filling the entire wall. So they do lie, Ocella thought.

  Varo sounded indignant. “Why did you deceive us about our location?”

  The golem cocked its head. “Why do you both converse in a language this drone does not comprehend? Is that not deception?”

  Varo glanced at Ocella, and she said, “There’s little here for us to occupy ourselves. We speak it to pass the time.”

  “How does speaking a different language make time pass?”

  “It doesn’t, exactly. It just—”

  “This topic is irrelevant,” the Lucia golem said, its strange eyes focusing on the wall view again. “We have located Cordus and your lover, Kaeso Aemilius, on the planet.”

  “My lov—? Wait, Cordus is in-system?”

  “We require you to send Kaeso a message. We could create one in your likeness, but we do not yet have the wisdom to mimic your speech patterns.”

  “What message?”

  When the golem finished telling Ocella the message, she swallowed. “If I refuse?”

  “We will kill your drone Varo. If you still refuse after he dies, we will bring Cordus here once we secure him and then slowly kill him in front of you.”

  Varo glared at the golem with hard eyes.

  “I thought you said you needed Cordus,” Ocella said, trying to keep her voice steady. “I don’t think you will kill him.”

  “We prefer not to. He will make a powerful witness. But we want to study him, to see what makes him resist the strain he hosts. To do that, we would destroy his body and remake it like we did this drone. The process will kill him. Either way, we will gain valuable wisdom for the new archive. Make your choice.”

  Despair and rage flooded Ocella’s senses. She wanted to curl up on the bed behind her and sob. Who do I condemn: the man I love or the boy who’s become a son to me? And why in the name of all the gods
did Kaeso bring Cordus here?

  Varo’s gentle hand rested on her shoulder. In Aramaic, he said, “You know what you need to do. He is too important.”

  Varo was right. If she looked at the situation from a “what’s best for humanity” point of view, the decision was simple.

  But not easy.

  She gave a shaky sigh and then turned to the Lucia golem. “Let’s record your damned message.”

  15

  Cordus, Aquilina, and the four Romans sat beneath the broken window of an old tailor shop listening to the armored car roll by. Cordus gripped the trigger of his pulse rifle. Aquilina and the Romans did the same. No one made a sound.

  Cordus met Aquilina’s eyes and once again tried to speak to her through his Muses. Can you hear me?

  If she could, she gave no sign. There had been no time or privacy for them to discuss her message at the tower and their ‘meeting’ during the fight at the tavern. Perhaps even she had no idea how she did it.

  I sure as cac don’t know how it happened.

  The car turned the corner down the street.

  Marcus Antonius appeared next to Cordus, his head peeking outside the window.

  “You have a foot patrol coming from the right,” Marcus said.

  Ulpius was about to stand, but Cordus grabbed his arm and held him in place. Ulpius gave him a questioning look. Cordus shook his head.

  Within seconds, they all heard the foot patrol following the armored car. It sounded like six pairs of boots on the debris-strewn street.

  “Six golems,” Marcus confirmed, “all wearing fashionable black robes and carrying rifles. Like a bunch of Dis flamens who just rolled in a garbage heap.”

  They didn’t seem to be in a hurry and marched as if they were on their way to tend crops.

  After a minute, Marcus said, “Clear.”

  Cordus slowly peeked above the window. Seeing no other patrols or armored cars, he motioned the others up.

  Ulpius whispered, “How did you know they was coming? My hearing ain’t like an owl’s, but it’s good. I didn’t hear them flesh cans.”

  Cordus glanced at Marcus, then shrugged at Ulpius. “Your hearing’s good, but mine’s great. Let’s go.”

  Aquilina arched an eyebrow at Cordus, but he ignored her. He stepped over the windowsill and onto the empty sidewalk, then led them toward the hospital.

  Cordus figured walking eight blocks would take no more than fifteen minutes at a normal pace. But scurrying from building to building and waiting out golem patrols had pushed their time to an hour. He wondered if Kaeso had stabilized Blaesus’s wound. Cordus already lost a good friend in Nestor—he couldn’t shake the image of Nestor’s pulverized head—so the thought of losing another made his eyes mist.

  You kept me humble, Nestor, my friend. Who will do that for me now?

  “Can’t afford emotion, young Antonius,” Marcus warned as he strolled next to Cordus. “You’ll never see your friends if you dwell on them rather than your current troubles.”

  Without glancing at Marcus, Cordus directed his thoughts to him. How did I know those golems were coming? You only see or hear what I see or hear. I did not hear them.

  “No, you didn’t hear those golems,” Marcus said, “but we did. We use your senses, but we can process the input better than your less-evolved human brain.” He winked at Cordus. “No offense, eh?”

  Sure.

  “You know, we could enhance your senses a thousandfold if you’d let us control your body like we did your family.”

  Cordus jerked his head to Marcus and infused his thoughts with a snarl. No!

  Marcus put his hands up. “Just a suggestion, no need for murder.”

  It’s never going to happen, so don’t suggest it again. I’m trying to focus on my current troubles, remember? Stop talking now.

  Marcus gave him an elaborate bow. “As you wish.” And then he disappeared.

  There was a time when Cordus was thankful for the Muses and his ability to control them. The Muses gave him knowledge and wisdom no other person—besides an Umbra Ancile—could imagine, while his control enabled him to maintain his humanity.

  Now he wondered if his abilities were a curse. Why had Marcus suggested Cordus let the Muses take control? Was that even a choice? Cordus always assumed it was not. But with his maturing body and the appearance of Marcus Antonius, he refused to discount anything. The fact that Marcus could suggest such a thing set off warning bells in Cordus. It made him more fearful than ever that the Muses might try to seize control someday. If that happened, how would Cordus even fight them?

  Pulse blasts echoed from the direction of the hospital two blocks away.

  Cordus gave his companions a hard look, then ran toward the blasts. He was satisfied to hear their footsteps behind him.

  When he came to the block before the hospital, Cordus peeked around the pockmarked wall of a tailor’s shop. The hospital was a small, single-story building that seemed more like a clinic than a true hospital. Two golem bodies lay near the hospital’s front door, while six more golems hid behind two ground cars, sending pulse fire through the open doors. Two fired from behind one car, and four fired from behind the second.

  Cordus scanned the rubble and buildings around the hospital, along with the rooftops, but did not see any other golems. He whispered to Aquilina and the Romans, “Six golems with their backs to us. I don’t see any others, but that foot patrol might be here in minutes.”

  Aquilina eased her head around the corner. She surveyed the street, then nodded to Cordus. “We can take these if we’re quick.”

  “Agreed,” Cordus said. He turned to the others. “Wait to fire until I start, or if they see us first. Ready?”

  They all nodded grimly and said, “Sir.”

  Cordus peeked around the corner again to ensure the golems weren’t looking in his direction, then broke into a quiet run toward them. He kept his rifle trained on the four golems behind the second car.

  When he got within thirty paces, he fired. Two golems went down with yellow sprays of golem blood, while the other two fell to blasts from the Romans behind Cordus. The two golems behind the first car fell to more fire from Cordus’s team.

  He reached the second car, pulled clips and rifles off the dead golems. Aquilina did the same to the two golems behind the first car. After they gathered the weapons and clips, Cordus shouted from behind the car, “Kaeso, it’s…” He glanced at the Romans. “It’s Titus.”

  “Get in here, kid!” Kaeso responded from inside.

  Cordus jumped from behind the car and ran to the open doors with Aquilina and the Romans close behind. When he burst through the door, he saw Kaeso to the right standing behind a desk with darkened pulse gouges, his pulse pistol at his side. To the left stood Dariya holding a large metal rod. They both grinned at Cordus.

  “Fine timing,” Kaeso said. “I had three pellets left in this thing.”

  “I was prepared to meet Ahura Mazda,” Dariya said, holding up the metal rod. “You have thankfully delayed that meeting, Trierarch.”

  “Sorry I’m late.” Cordus tossed the scavenged rifles to Kaeso and Dariya, who took them gratefully.

  They looked past Cordus to Aquilina and the Romans. Kaeso’s face hardened when he saw Aquilina, and Dariya’s turned equally hard at the Romans. Seeing their former masters. I hope they remember the golems are the bigger threat. Aquilina and the Romans were more concerned with catching their breath from their sprint than noticing any tension.

  “How’s Blaesus?” Cordus asked, breaking the tension before his new comrades noticed.

  Kaeso eyed Aquilina a second longer, who now noticed Kaeso’s stare, before responding. “He’s stable. Daryush is with him in the back. We found some skin sealant. He’s lost a lot of blood, though, and we couldn’t find any synthetic blood here. We need to get him back to Vacuna.”

  Aquilina shook her head. “They’ll never let us get to the spaceport.”

  “What do you suggest?” Kaeso sa
id. “Merchant.”

  A blinding white light filled Cordus’s vision, and a nova of pain seared through his head. A terrible ringing filled his ears. He gasped and fell to his knees. From far away, Ulpius said, “What’s wrong with them?”

  The light and pain slowly faded, but the ringing continued. Cordus regained control of his senses, for the most part.

  Kaeso, however, leaned against the wall, doubled over, his hands on his head. Aquilina was on her knees, head bowed, her hands over her eyes. After a moment, they removed their hands from their heads and blinked several times.

  Cordus stared at them. “It happened to you, too?” He could barely hear his own words over the continued ringing.

  “What happened?” Dariya growled.

  Before Cordus could speak, Ocella’s voice floated in his ears. It started as a whisper beneath the ringing, then grew louder, but muffled as if she spoke through a blanket.

  “…is important that you do what they ask, Kaeso, or they will hurt Cordus. Can you hear me, Kaeso?”

  Kaeso stared at the floor with squinted eyes. His lips moved, but made no sound.

  “I know,” Ocella said, her voice fading in and out, “but it is the only way. Please…you know how…what they want of…”

  Cordus noticed Aquilina staring at Kaeso. She must hear it, too. Now she knows Kaeso was once an Umbra Ancile. She may even know who I am. What will she do about it?

  Strong hands reached under Cordus’s arms and lifted him off the ground. Ulpius and Duran held him up and asked him what was happening. Cordus couldn’t focus long on their voices as Ocella’s voice took away his ability to concentrate on anything else.

  “…Cordus must not…don’t try to…you are a stubborn…”

  The voice and ringing abruptly stopped.

  Marcus Antonius popped into existence next to Cordus. For the first time Cordus could remember, there was fear in his eyes.

  “This is very bad, young Antonius,” he said, as he paced back and forth. “Very bad, indeed.”

  What is bad? What just happened?

  Marcus leaned close to Cordus and whispered as if he were afraid of being overheard. “Another strain has arrived. They want you.”