Muses of Terra (Codex Antonius Book 2)

by Rob Steiner

  Ocella noticed Kaeso had turned his head toward the column as well. She could see his hands shake as he watched the terrible scene unfold. Was he feeling the same urge to protect Cordus as her?

  His head suddenly turned toward Ocella and their eyes met. His desperate voice filled her mind. What do we do?

  She was too paralyzed to respond. My creators…my boy…

  Orcus lifted Cordus by the throat and told the boy he was going to die. Cordus’s face turned purple, his tongue flapped from his mouth as he struggled to breathe. Orcus punched Cordus in the face several times, breaking his nose. Blood spurted. His struggles weakened.

  A low moan originated deep in her chest and then emerged from her lips. It grew in volume and intensity into a scream and then a raging howl. Something in her mind snapped and figurative chains fell from her body. She leaped up from the floor, all her focus on Orcus. This monster held her dear boy—her son!—in his rotting hands. She charged toward the monster, protecting Cordus her only concern. Her body grew larger to match Orcus's height and mass, though she never consciously willed it. All she felt was rage toward this thing that was hurting one of the two people in the universe that she loved more than her own life.

  Orcus turned at the last moment. He seemed much smaller now, almost a head shorter than Ocella. She felt a savage glee as she slammed into him with her shoulder and knocked him into a marble wall a dozen paces away. Cordus fell to the floor gasping and coughing.

  But Ocella followed Orcus. She leaped on top of him and hammered her fists into his grotesque face. She rained blows on Orcus, now almost half her size, until his head was an unrecognizable pulp of green meat and white bone.

  Cordus rasped, “Behind you!”

  Ocella whirled around as two arrows hit her chest from Juno and Minerva, both of whom aimed longbows at her. The arrows knocked her back against the wall. She slid to the floor, her feet unable to support her. She felt herself shrinking in size to her normal height. Juno and Minerva both nocked another arrow and aimed at Ocella. Their faces were impassive, as if they were about to step on a roach.

  Kaeso rose up behind them, a gladius in his hand. With one gigantic swing, he decapitated Juno and Minerva. Their heads flew into the air and their bodies slumped to the floor.

  Kaeso stood over them, blood dripping from the gladius. “Heal that,” he growled at their bodies.

  Ocella wanted to smile, but she couldn’t do much more than look at him. There was no pain from the arrows, but her mind was slipping away. She knew that if she closed her eyes, she’d never open them again. Not even in a new body.

  Cordus was by her side. Blood streamed from his broken nose. She found the strength to smile at him. He was alive. It was all that mattered.

  Cordus stared at the arrows in Ocella’s chest, willing them to go away in the same way he had willed himself to grow into a giant. He drew from the power of the golems on Terra. He took more than he knew he should, releasing them to potentially kill and hurt other people. He didn’t care. His mother was dying.

  When the arrows would not disappear, he tried pulling them out with his hands. They would not budge, no matter how hard he pulled or how much strength he willed into his arms. Ocella was unconscious, but moaned with each pull.

  He cursed in frustration. “Why can’t I remove them?” he cried.

  Kaeso knelt beside Ocella and took her hand in his. Cordus had never seen such pain on his typically stoic face.

  “Why can’t I remove them?” Cordus repeated to Kaeso.

  Without taking his gaze off Ocella, Kaeso said, “This isn’t your world. It’s theirs.”

  A wet chuckle came from behind Cordus. He whipped around to see Orcus beginning to move. His head was still a mash of green tissue and bone, but it restructured itself before Cordus’s eyes.

  “We are gods here, boy,” Orcus gurgled through his ruined mouth.

  The headless bodies of Juno and Minerva twitched as white bone slowly grew out of their neck stumps. The bone took the form of skulls, and then tendons crawled up the skulls.

  Cordus jumped up and ran to Jupiter’s glowing blue throne. Juno’s hand grabbed for his legs. He leaped over her grasping hands. He charged up the steps and then sat down in Jupiter’s throne.

  Nothing happened. There was no change in the throne’s glow. He didn’t know what he expected. He scanned the throne for an interface, but it was all smooth white marble.

  What am I supposed to do? He instinctively reached for the Muses, but recoiled in despair when all he got was silence. Their underlying whispers had always been in his mind, even when they did not answer his queries. The silence was maddening and sad.

  Orcus laughed again. His head was looking more like the hideousness of Orcus than some one who had been beaten. “We are the gods here, boy,” he repeated.

  Juno and Minerva had also sat up. Veins, muscles, and fascia crept up their skulls. Eyes expanded into their empty sockets, and their fleshless mouths pulled back into ghastly smiles.

  Cordus searched the throne again for anything that might let him gain control of the vessel.

  Orcus stood, took two strides toward Ocella and Kaeso. Kaeso swung at Orcus with his gladius. Orcus knocked the weapon out of Kaeso’s hand and grabbed him by the throat. He reached down and grabbed Ocella with his other hand. He held them both out to Cordus. Kaeso’s eyes bulged as he struggled in Orcus grasp. Ocella hung limp, the two arrows still in her chest, her eyes closed.

  “Submit to us, or we will erase them from our archives.”

  “You can be with them forever if you submit,” Juno said. Pink flesh now covered her hairless head.

  “Give us the location of your body,” Minerva said. Dark hair sprouted from the top of her head and looped down around her shoulders.

  Cordus stared at Kaeso and Ocella. Tears formed in his eyes.

  I don’t know what to do…

  Cordus heard Marcus Antonius’s voice from his memories. Everyone has responsibilities. Some men must toil in the fields to feed their families; others have to rule an empire.

  Cordus clenched his teeth. It’s not what I want to do. But it’s what I must do.

  He rose from the throne and willed his height to match that of the three gods below him.

  “I am Marcus Antonius Cordus, descendent of Marcus Antonius Primus and Consular Heir of the Roman Republic. You will submit to me.”

  The entire temple shuddered beneath Aquilina’s feet. Ulpius, Dariya, and Daryush glanced around nervously. Another explosion, this time closer, made cracks appear in the ceiling. Dust rained down on them.

  “Cac,” Ulpius muttered. “Sounds like they don’t want him alive anymore.”

  Aquilina could imagine the drone ships hovering above the temple raining down blue lightning in an attempt to destroy it—and Cordus—before he could take control of the vessel.

  A buzzing from the high-security Praetorian com nearby made them all jump. Aquilina tore her gaze from the holo-monitor to activate the signal.

  “—coming from the alien ship,” a hurried female voice said. “They match the description of the toxin drones that attacked Libertus. Repeat, this is the command ship of the Arrius Astrum Naves reporting to all Legions defending Terra—the alien vessel is releasing drones matching the description of the toxin drones that destroyed Libertus.”

  The signal crossed all bands; it would be playing on all com devices in every home, business, car, and citizen’s pocket.

  Aquilina turned back to the holo-monitor as another explosion made a part of the ceiling fall to the floor behind her.

  Whatever you’re going to do, Cordus, hurry.

  Orcus, Juno, and Minerva flinched back from Cordus. The light in the temple went from bright sunshine filtering down from the skylights above to a darkened milieu of roiling black clouds. Even the marble within the temple seemed to blacken and crack.

  Orcus growled, “Get down from there or your friends and your planet die.”

  “I am Marc
us Antonius Cordus, descendent of Marcus Antonius Primus and Consular Heir of the Roman Republic—”

  As he said this, the marble thrones next to him flickered and then melted into a single black sphere. The sphere undulated. Blue veins formed on its surface looking like the skin of the vessel. It slowly contorted itself until it finally settled on a shape that Cordus recognized.

  The command couch on Caduceus.

  “THIS VESSEL IS OURS!” Orcus screamed. His voice thundered through the temple, its rage causing more cracks to emerge in the columns and floor.

  But this time he sounded scared.

  Cordus descended the steps from the command couch, the weight of his feet cracking each step. He towered over the gods. Juno and Minerva stepped away from him. Gone where the serene and motherly gazes from before. Now there was only fear.

  The Muses cannot control me, but I can control them. Even this strain. It’s what I’ve always been able to do.

  “I am Marcus Antonius Cordus, descendent of—”

  Debris fell from the temple ceiling, huge chunks of marble, brick, and timber. The ground rumbled.

  Orcus tossed Kaeso and Ocella to the side, a spear suddenly in his hand. He flung the spear at Cordus.

  Cordus saw the spear and brought up his forearm. A large shield was there to deflect the spear. It bounced off the floor. Juno and Minerva both loosed arrows at Cordus. Though they were only ten paces away, Cordus had no difficulty bringing his shield around to deflect their arrows. The goddesses fired volley after volley at him as Orcus continued to throw spears, but he blocked them all with hardly any effort.

  This was how it felt when I controlled the Terran Muses. They’ve lost, but they don’t know it yet.

  He threw his shield at Minerva and Juno. The impact knocked them dozens of paces across the Temple toward the wide open entrance. Orcus, now just as large as Cordus, leaped at him and wrapped his fingers around Cordus’s throat.

  “We are your gods,” Orcus snarled, his breath stinking of death. “You will submit to us!”

  Cordus reached up and grabbed Orcus's wrists. He slowly pulled Orcus hands away from his throat. Orcus's eyes bulged.

  “You are not gods,” Cordus growled. “You’re a little germ with a big ship.”

  He smashed his forehead into Orcus's nose twice. Orcus stumbled backwards, stunned by the blows. Before Orcus could recover, Cordus thrust his hand into Orcus's chest. But instead of the hot organs Cordus expected, blue light erupted from the wound he had created. He felt the rest of his body being pulled into Orcus.

  Orcus screamed. Juno and Minerva screamed from the other side of the temple.

  And then Cordus took control of the vessel.

  Aquilina’s ear com beeped as another explosion almost collapsed the entire ceiling in the com room. Tarquitius’s voice yelled over the sounds of pulse pistol fire, clashing steel, and human and non-human grunts and cries. “The aliens are spreading throughout the temple. They seem to be searching the entire complex, so I don’t think they know where you are yet. But I just saw one group head up the back stairs towards you.”

  “How many?”

  “A lot!”

  Aquilina turned to Ulpius. “They’re coming up here.”

  He nodded grimly and went to the door. He opened it a crack to peek through. Then he opened it all the way and stepped into the hall. He stood outside, looking from left to right.

  Dariya and Daryush joined Ulpius in the hall, their pulse pistols drawn and ready to fire. Ulpius nodded to them. They stood back-to-back, Dariya and Daryush facing left, Ulpius facing right.

  “How are your men faring, Tarquitius?” Aquilina asked.

  “Not good. We have the aliens coming through the back door, and most of them got past us already. Now the golems are trying to ram down the front doors. We’re giving a gladius to every citizen who can stand, but…”

  Tarquitius didn’t have to finish for Aquilina to understand how hopeless he viewed the situation.

  “Any way the Consul can speed things up?” he asked.

  “I can’t reach him now,” Aquilina said, looking at Cordus. “We have to be patient.”

  Tarquitius grunted. “Right,” he said, then broke the connection.

  Pulse fire from the door startled Aquilina. Ulpius fired again down the hallway.

  “They’re coming out of the stairwell,” he shouted. Dariya and Daryush turned and fired down the hall, too.

  Aquilina rushed over and peaked around the corner. The gray, octopus-like aliens filled the hallway and skittered toward them. Pulse fire tore them apart, but more just flooded over the dead. There was no way pulse fire would stop the onslaught.

  “Back inside,” Aquilina shouted.

  Dariya and Daryush jumped through the door. Ulpius let off a final blast of rifle fire, then dove through the door just as Aquilina slammed it shut and locked it. She heard the aliens gathering outside, their fingered tentacles tapping around the edges.

  Ulpius stood back, his pulse rifle pointed at the door. “Hope they don’t have a ram—”

  A loud bang came from the other side of the door, and then another. The edges around the door handle and lock bulged inward with each bang. The doorframe soon began to crack and then splinter around the lock.

  “Cac,” Ulipius said.

  “Behind the chairs!” Aquilina shouted.

  As soon as everyone ducked behind a tabulari chair, the door lock blew apart, sending shards of wood and steel exploding across the room. Ulpius fired at the aliens streaming through the door. Dariya and Daryush screamed and fired into the alien mass. All three killed many, but not enough.

  Aquilina fired her pistol, but was down to one pellet before she knew it. The aliens rushed forward. She focused on Cordus’s sleeping body.

  I’m sorry, Cordus. I wasn’t good enough to protect you. I won’t let them dissect and torture you. At least I can give you peace.

  She raised her pistol with its last pellet to Cordus’s head. Before she could pull the trigger…the room turned quiet.

  She turned her eyes to the aliens. They stood before her on four tentacles, with the front four raised like a fan above their bulbous gray heads.

  “What are they waiting for?” Ulpius growled. “Finish us!”

  But they didn’t move.

  Aquilina looked up at Cordus and then checked the holo-monitor.

  The first genuine smile in days crossed her lips.

  50

  Cordus floated above Terra. He did not feel cold or warm, just numb. The planet spread out before him; he could focus on any country, city, street, or individual. He found he could see their atoms, if he chose.

  He noticed Roman Eagles flying around him firing missiles, plasma cannons, and mass drivers. None of their weapons touched him. A faint blue glow surrounded him whenever a projectile was turned away or destroyed.

  He also saw drones swarming toward Terra. The toxin drones.

  Stop, he said.

  They stopped.

  Come back.

  They turned around and came back toward him.

  He looked down on the planet, focusing on the octopod ground forces and drone attackers all over Terra.

  Stop. Come back.

  The octopods stopped their ground assaults. The drones flew back.

  “It’s a wonderful vessel, is it not?”

  A male child’s voice came from beside Cordus. He now stood in a room shaped like the inside of a sphere, with space and Terra surrounding him. Three children stood next to him, one boy and two girls. The boy had dark curly hair. One girl had long dark hair and a small, snowy-white owl perched on her shoulder. The other had auburn hair tied in two braids that ran down her back. All three wore white togas of ancient design.

  “We built it 15,900,127 of your years ago,” the dark-haired girl said. Her owl cooed at her voice.

  “We like it far better than a mundane body,” the auburn-haired girl said.

  “You can tell it to restructure itself
if you don’t like the design,” the boy offered. “It’s very easy.”

  Cordus stared at them. “Where are Ocella and Kaeso?”

  The boy shrugged. “Bring them here if you wish to see them.”

  Ocella. Kaeso.

  They both appeared before him. Ocella—arrows no longer protruding from her chest—rushed over to Cordus and hugged him tightly. He returned the embrace with equal strength. Kaeso stood behind her with a proud grin.

  “Well done, kid,” Kaeso said.

  Cordus pulled back, looking at them both with tears in his eyes. “You’re both dead aren’t you?” It was more a statement than a question.

  Their smiles faltered.

  “You’re just the personalities the Muses built around your memories,” Cordus continued. “My Ocella and Kaeso are…gone.”

  Ocella and Kaeso nodded.

  Cordus turned to the three children. “What will you do when I leave this ship? When I return to my body on Terra?”

  The boy tilted his head. “We will take back control and destroy your planet.”

  “We will try to kill you as well,” the auburn-haired girl said.

  “You have angered us deeply,” the dark-haired girl said. Her owl flapped its wings in agreement. “Only your will is keeping us from destroying you now.”

  Cordus eyed them sardonically. “Thanks for your honesty.”

  “We are under your command,” the boy said. “We cannot deceive you.”

  “I could root you out of this ship.”

  All three shook their heads. The boy said, “We are too deeply integrated. You could no more destroy us than you could the strain that lived in you. You cannot kill us, only control us.”

  The auburn-haired girl said, “And you would have to stay here to maintain control.”

  “How? My body is still down there.”

  The dark-haired girl said, “You can sever the connection.”

  A tendril of white light, no bigger than a spider web strand, connected him to his body on Terra. The tendril undulated as if swaying in the wind. He then found a gladius in his hand.