The Last Roman (Praetorian Series - Book One)

by Edward Crichton

  I hadn’t seen her in person since my graduation day from BUD/S a little more than three years ago, my time in the service and her time in space keeping us apart.

  Thinking about her sparked the first real revelation that I may never actually return home. Besides my SEALs, there were very few people left in my life I was close to, my father not even included. My sister was one of the few real friends I had, and the thought of never seeing her again finally hit me.

  We really were stuck in ancient Rome.

  I tried to push the frightening thought from my mind as we exited the building. The first thing I noticed was that our group was gone, and that our escort continued ushering us through the Forum, hopefully to meet up with them. It would probably be best to voice my concerns to Vincent before we regrouped.

  “You did a good job with your Latin back there, sir. You really fell into it.”

  “You’re not the only one schooled in the subject, Hunter. At the Vatican, I had many friends who were quite proficient in Latin, and we enjoyed conversing in it. We weren’t perfect, and we weren’t sure exactly how certain words sounded, but we did our best. Listening to it here has allowed me to fill in the gaps, making it easy to pick up.”

  “Well, I’m pretty rusty, and I was barely following the conversation. I guess we’ll all have to figure it out pretty quickly. I feel bad for Helena, she’ll probably have the hardest time of us all with German being so different. Then again, she’s probably had a Latin lesson or two considering her education.”

  “Probably, but I have a feeling you have something else on your mind besides linguistics.”

  The man was sharp, that’s for sure.

  “Yes, sir. It’s just that I don’t think a weapons demonstration is a good idea. In fact, it could be devastating.”

  “We need these people to trust us. We may need their help to get home.”

  “I know,” I replied, hoping this conversation wasn’t automatically going to go unheard by him, “but I’m positive it may change too much. The Romans will get too many ideas. You know how clever they are. They’ll probably have primitive muskets in the next decade.”

  “They’d need gun powder for that,” he pointed out.

  “The Chinese have had it for centuries at this point. The Romans aren’t unaware of their existence. All they’d need to do is kill us and analyze our equipment, not to mention all of the supplies buried with McDougal. I have no idea what those people were doing in there, but if they were looking for a treasure, I’d say they found one.”

  “So what are you saying?” He asked, giving the guards a paranoid glance, who for the time being seemed to be ignoring us. “We should get our people and run?”

  “Doing that would be fruitless at this point. They don’t need us anymore. We’ve already shown them too much. That flashlight was just the tip of the iceberg. They know we have someone buried beneath the temple. All they need to do is go down there and discover our gear. These people are very smart. They’ll figure it out.”

  “Then what should we do?”

  “I have no fucking clue,” I said, my voice rising slightly. One of the Praetorians looked at me suspiciously, but I tried to ignore him. “I’m as in the dark here as you are. But I’ll tell you this, I’m beginning to wonder if we’ll even be able to get home.”

  That caused Vincent to hesitate. “Care to explain that one?”

  “Look, as I’ve said, I’m no expert, but what I do know is that through technological means, many scientists theorize that it’s impossible to go back in time. For many reasons. Ever heard of the Grandfather Paradox.”

  “Passingly.”

  “Well, say I was to go back in time and kill my grandfather before he spawned my father, therefore eliminating my chances in the gene pool.”

  “Okay,” he said hesitantly.

  “Well, the deal is, if I killed him, how is it that I existed in the first place to go back in time to kill him? I shouldn’t exist.”

  “So, if you don’t exist, then you can’t go back in time to kill your grandfather?”

  “Right. That’s why it’s a paradox. It simply can’t happen. It goes against the laws of time.”

  “‘The laws of time’?”

  “Yeah, well, that’s another problem. It’s called a paradox because it goes against the ‘laws of time’, but the word ‘law’ is hardly appropriate. No one’s ever been able to prove anything, so the term is actually horribly misleading,” I said, chuckling at my own ridiculousness.

  “But you just said this grandfather paradox doesn’t even exist, because we have no idea how these, so called, ‘laws of time’ work.”

  “Well… kind of. It’s just one theory out of many. The point is, from what scientists think they know, these paradoxes do exist. Basically, physics and these so called “laws of time” equate to one universal fact: time travel is impossible, because anything done in the past, from an entity that does not belong in the past, has the potential to change the past, which is impossible.”

  I took a deep breath, that mouthful of an explanation taking a lot out of me. If only we had a DeLorean and a suitcase full of plutonium, none of this would be an issue. I just wish I’d spent more time talking with my genius sister about this stuff. Maybe then we’d be a step closer to figuring this out.

  “Then again,” I continued cautiously, “Einstein’s general theory of relativity does allow for time travel. His math states that it is possible, but again, no one really knows anything. There’s no proven math with all the variables in the universe involving time travel, and inevitably, that’s what you need to do it, and math was never my best subject. Nor am I an omniscient being with all the knowledge of the universe.

  “Then there are those others who say that even if you could travel back in time, it would be impossible to change anything. Their theory revolves around the idea that fate’s grip on reality is too strong, and that one way or another, things will level out in the end, and nothing will change.”

  “Destiny?”

  “Call it what you like,” I said.

  Whether it be fate, destiny, God’s will, or the “laws of time,” what’s done in the past is done, and cannot be changed. Yet, here we were, stuck in the past and in a timeline we didn’t belong in, probably already changing history as we live and breathe.

  “So what about traveling forward in time?” Vincent asked, keeping me focused. “Getting home?”

  “Going into the future is a completely different concept all together. Traveling forward in time is completely possible. The means are extremely plausible, only not that easy to replicate. The trick is speed.”

  “Go on.”

  “Well, the closer to the speed of light one travels, the slower time moves around that person, relative to those on planet Earth. In theory, if we took a ship and set a course to orbit our solar system, continuously picking up speed towards the speed of light, by the time a month was spent traveling in that orbit, hundreds of years would have passed on Earth. I don’t know the exact numbers, but that’s the gist of it. However, finding a way to travel that fast, let alone survive it, is way beyond modern technology.”

  He waited for a few seconds, letting everything sink in, before offering me a skeptical look.

  “You learned all this from watching TV?”

  I nodded. “Pretty much. I used to read a lot of science fiction as a kid as well. I suggest checking out The Future War. It should be available at your local library.”

  Vincent snorted in amusement. “And they said the youth of America was doomed generations ago. All right, pretend I understand half of what you are saying. Why do you think we can’t go back, besides not being able to travel fast enough?”

  “Well, think about it. If it’s impossible to time travel by any known technological means, the only other way I can think of this happening is through… well… magic.”

  “Be serious.”

  “I am serious… I think. Tell me, how does a glowing blue ball cau
se a temporal shift like the one we experienced? It has to be magical. The way the ball felt in my hands... it didn’t feel natural. Here’s another thing. When I first gazed through the ball, I noticed there was a similar one in the hands of the men we met in the cave. When we were transported, the ball I held came with us. Did you notice if the men had one of their own?”

  “One of them did have one, yes.”

  “I thought so. If technology is the culprit, how could one of these balls exist during the days of the Roman Empire?”

  “I’m completely lost.” He said with a scratch of his head

  I sighed. “Me too. I’m starting to confuse myself. There is one thing I don’t get, though. How come when Abdullah held the ball nothing happened, but when I touched it with my finger, something happened?”

  “Good question, but immaterial to our problem. The questions should be whether any more of these balls exist at all.”

  “There very well may be a dozen of the damn things in the future, but the one we used certainly isn’t where it was anymore. If we tried to connect with any other sphere out there, we could end up wherever and whenever that sphere is, not 2021. We could end up anywhere in time. That’s what makes me think there are only the two. If there were more, why did we connect to this one? Why not all of them? Why did I only see images from this time, and not images from 1453 or 2543 as well? Who knows when another sphere, or this sphere, would have been found along the timeline.”

  “Hunter, you are thoroughly confusing me.”

  I laughed. “I get that a lot. Here’s another wrench to throw in the engine.” I waited, giving Vincent a chance to catch up. “Are you ready for this? I think the ball we found is the same exact one the Romans have. I don’t mean the same kind of object, but the same ball.”

  Vincent just stared at me as we continued to stroll through the city. I thought I saw anger brewing in his expression, but it was probably just utter confusion.

  “I hate to sound like Santino here, but you’re crazy.”

  “I’m sorry. You have no idea how much I hate sounding like a know-it-all, but I’m really just spit-balling here. Look. Clearly the ritual being performed in the cave before we got here happened in our history. We know that because we just dropped into it an hour ago. It being history and all. But be that the case, from our perspective in 2021, we all should have been in those history books too, yet there is no record of us. Why not? Two possibilities. As I said earlier, maybe we were here, but we just died real quick. The cave may have collapsed killing all of us and nobody thought twice about it. Think Terminator, just without as much Arnold. We had to be here to fulfill some predetermined roll we played here, namely to die.”

  Vincent held up a hand. “Wait. What’s a terminator?”

  I looked at him whimsically. “Your favorite band is the Beach Boys, but you’ve never heard of Terminator?”

  “Just get to the point, Hunter.”

  He’s no better than Helena!

  “Fine. In any case, that theory doesn’t seem very likely though, because our gear would have been found, leaving an obvious record. So my theory is that when the ritual originally took place an hour ago, the original before we got here, nothing happened. The sphere was deemed useless. It was then packaged up as a pretty trinket, and lost to the annals of history. It wasn’t until a hapless soul such as myself found it in the future, and activated it, did it do what it was supposed to do.”

  “Which is what?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe it’s enchanted… or whatever, to open a one way trip through time to a prearranged destination. I guess that would explain how we ended up in Rome. Not only does it transport you through time, but through space as well. Think of it this way. Imagine a rubber band. Now, grab it with both hands and slowly stretch it out. Over time, it gets longer. It’s actually moving through both time and space. Now, let go of one end, and it will return to its original form. But instead of just moving through space, like the rubber band, it moves back through time as well, to when the stretching began. ”

  He sighed. “So, you’re saying that the sphere, like the rubber band, has its physical existence stretched through time, and when activated, will find a way back to when it was originally activated?”

  “It’s a theory. Although, I guess all this presupposes a linear and not cyclical time...”

  “Hunter! Focus. So this sphere would take everything in a room with it?” He asked skeptically.

  I shrugged.

  “But how is it activated?” He asked, moving past the things we couldn’t immediately explain.

  “Great question. Haven’t figured that part out yet. But the rest makes sense. Sort of.”

  “Nothing makes sense at this point,” Vincent mumbled. “So how is it that two exist now? How is that possible? Shouldn’t they have joined to become one sphere?”

  “That’s another very good question. It seems as though we’ve created yet another fundamental paradox of some kind. How can the same object be in a different place at the same time? It’s easy to say my boot exists here at five o’clock, and then in the same place at six o’clock, but for the same boot, to exist at the same time, in two different places, is seemingly impossible.” I tapped a finger against my chin thoughtfully, before wagging it at Vincent. “On the bright side, we may have just discovered a way to replicate glowing, blue, time traveling balls at no expense. I bet we can market them for a good price back home.”

  “If this situation wasn’t so insane, that might actually be funny. So. I ask again, more confused than ever, what do we do now?”

  “I’m sorry to say that I’m just as lost as I ever was. Who the hell knows? Honestly, I’m ready to just throw in with the Romans and join the legions.”

  Vincent didn’t respond, and for some reason his silence bothered me. It was like he knew something I didn’t. Like he was hiding some important piece of information.

  I shook my head and decided to drop it. I didn’t want to think about it anymore, so I ignored the man and focused on the road. All I wanted right now was a hot shower and a fresh change of clothes. Luckily, Roman baths were way ahead of their time, and a hot dip was perfectly feasible. Another plus was that some were openly co-ed.

  Maybe Helena would be up for it.

  Nah.

  ***

  We walked the last few blocks in silence, both of us too tired to think anymore.

  My fatigue surprised me. I knew I had to be in better shape than ninety nine percent of humanity, but while the last few hours had been strenuous, I’d gone through way worse before, and I’d never felt this bad afterwards. Everyone else had to be feeling it as well. My only conclusion was that the trip through the orb taxed its travelers far more than the painful transition alone.

  A few feet before I collapsed out of exhaustion, the Praetorians slowed, and made their way to a wooden doorway, which opened to a small and simple house. It didn’t seem like a prison, but I assumed these kinds of clandestine operations were common practice in the backstabbing world of ancient Rome.

  The two men guarding the entrance saluted in greeting before opening the door. As they waved us through, one of the guards told Vincent to ask his counterpart stationed out front in the morning for food. It seemed like that bath was going to have to wait, but I’d settle for a meal.

  The guard shut the door behind us, and locked us inside with a wooden plank. The house was little more than a wooden shack, with four small rooms. A number of mattresses, made out of unknown materials, were scattered throughout. There were no windows or other exits, and a small fireplace was blazing away, with some additional wood nearby.

  And then there were the Pope’s Praetorians. Scattered, they looked the worse for wear. Beaten, demoralized, and completely cut off from the chain of command, not to mention home, a soldier couldn’t find himself in a more compromising situation.

  Wang was sleeping on one of the mats in the main room, while Bordeaux was out in the room opposite the entrance, only his
lower half visible, and Santino was leaning against the door. I couldn’t see Helena, so I assumed she was probably asleep in one of the other rooms off to our left.

  Santino noticed our arrival and came to attention, managing to pull off a very weary salute in the process.

  He smiled. “Sorry, sir. I’m pretty tired, but I wanted to wait until you got here before sacking out.”

  Vincent put a hand on his shoulder. “We appreciate it, son. Don’t worry, you’ll be able to rest soon enough, but first I need a sit rep.”

  “Yes, sir. Our guards escorted us here as soon as you were taken inside. They even let us bring our gear container. We weren’t manhandled, but they were very persistent. When we arrived, we were given indigenous clothing and food. There’s some bread over there if you’d like.”

  He pointed to a small table, which Vincent and I headed to immediately while Santino continued.

  “We’re in a small, square building, with four equally sized square rooms within. There are no windows or other forms of escape, save the fireplace, and each room is connected, except the back two,” he finished, pointing behind him towards Bordeaux, before shifting his attention to the room to our left.

  “The container is filled with explosives and ammo. We’ve got enough to hold out for a long time, and I’m pretty sure Bordeaux could level the entire city if he wanted to. Probably does, the sick bastard. Anyway, we restocked our magazines just in case. Then Wang got to work on our wounded. He set Bordeaux’s ankle, which as it turns out, wasn’t just sprained but fractured in two places. He’ll be out of commission for a few weeks.

  He took a deep breath, his fatigue worsening by the second. “In addition to her leg, Strauss has a dozen or so minor gashes over her body, some needing stitches. Her wetsuit is completely trashed and unusable. Wang finished with her by reopening the main injury on her leg and stitched it back together properly. It was pretty nasty. He said Hunter couldn’t have done a worse job setting the wound.”