by Rob Steiner
Those were parts of the Consul's plans to which even he was not privy.
45
Ocella screamed, but the Muses would not let the sound come from her own mouth.
She awoke from the delta sleep and immediately tried to seize control of her body. But her attack had as much impact as a snowflake against a mountain. The Muses awoke before she did and stopped it.
Her body was no longer hers from the moment she awoke after the Consul's murderous attack. At first she thought her spirit had gone to the Underworld, that this was punishment for all the deaths she'd caused, all the misery she left behind.
Millions of tiny whispers soon convinced her she still lived. They told her to be calm, to give up control, to let the gods do with her body what they will. It was easier if she just submitted. If she did, they whispered, they would give back her body, and she could be as powerful as the Consul.
She fought them with every shred of mental and spiritual energy she could muster, yet she still could not break their control. They were too powerful, too entrenched in her brain. She was a prisoner.
During their escape, she had rejoiced when Appius opened the door to her cell. This strange man would help free her from the Praetorians and from her own body. But then dawning horror when the Muse whispers rejoiced, saying “the plan” worked. Her mouth formed words. Sounds came from her throat that were not of her choosing. She fought to scream at Kaeso and the others, to tell them this was all a trap.
The Muses wouldn't even let her blink.
Her heart leaped when she heard Cordus's voice. He’s alive! Her joy turned to anger when the Muses used her voice to urge Cordus to take them to the planet that held his precious evidence. Evidence that would prove to humanity what the Muses had done to other civilizations. The Muses whispered to each other. The planet must be found, and the evidence destroyed. Then they would turn their full fury on the Liberti Muses.
The Muses made Ocella's body sit up from the delta couch, exit the cabin, and walk down the cramped corridor.
Ocella could see the memories the Muses held, going back millions of years. She saw the intelligent species they'd used to fight each other. She still did not understand why the strains fought. All she could feel was their anger toward the Liberti Muses: irrational, violent, savage. It was a mindless drive for domination that had gone on since the dawn of their existence. It would continue until the other strains were wiped out.
What then? she asked them.
The whispers combined into one voice. We will be the only gods.
Ocella would have shivered if the Muses had allowed it.
The Muses moved her body to a ladder, which she ascended to the command deck. On the deck, Nestor unbuckled himself from his delta couch, gave her a grim look, then brushed past her and descended the ladder. Kaeso and his pilot Lucia scrolled through readouts on their terminals. The view outside the command windows showed a planet covered in gray clouds, with patches of brown and black poking through. A thin brown ring surrounded the planet, and she could make out glints from the floating raw ore mixed with gray and brown rock.
“I assume we arrived in one piece,” the Muses forced her to say.
It's not me talking! Ocella screamed. This is all a trap!
“Not exactly,” Kaeso said. “Our jump through Terra's atmosphere fried the way line engines. They need repairs if we want to jump anywhere again.”
“What about your alpha way line systems?” the Muses asked.
Kaeso shook his head grimly. “Umbra took the old ones out. The Romans attacked before we got our backups.” He turned back to the tabulari. “Daryush is checking the new ones, but it’ll take time. Time I assume we don't have.”
The Muse whispers were jubilant, and she felt them pass this information along their mysterious connections to Muses on the other side of the universe. She wanted to shake Kaeso. They're tracking you through me! They're coming!
Lucia unstrapped herself from her delta couch. “I'm going to help Daryush with those engines. Maybe we can...I don't know...”
When she passed Ocella, the Muses made her turn to Lucia. “Thank you for rescuing us. That was very brave.”
Lucia looked at her, then glanced at Kaeso. “I don't leave my crew behind.”
In other words, she didn't do it for me or Cordus. Ocella wondered if Lucia and Kaeso were together. A twinge of jealousy sparked in her, which increased the whispers of the Muses as they discussed her emotion with clinical detachment. Their cold interest in her emotions made her more angry, and she mentally flailed against the prison they had constructed around her mind.
Her screams almost made her ignore Cordus.
“Ocella!” he yelled, just coming up the ladder. He launched himself toward her with a tight hug. The Muses forced her body to return the hug with equal force, though she would have done it by choice.
But she noticed a curious thing. For the first time since she'd awakened from the Consul's attack, the whispers in her mind had stopped. The Muses still controlled her body, but they were silent.
“I thought they killed you,” he said into her shoulder.
“Obviously they didn't,” the Muses made her reply. “How did you get away from them?”
“Yes,” Kaeso asked, his eyes narrowed at Cordus. “That's something we're all wondering.”
He's not the one you should be worried about, Ocella wanted to say. It's me!
Cordus broke away from his hug, looking sick. “I-I made my guards let me go.”
Kaeso stared at him, confused. Ocella didn’t need the Muses to figure out what he did. A source of amusement to her in the Cloaca Maxima had saved Cordus's life. He had released his Muse pheromones to manipulate his guards into releasing him. Though the Muses no longer whispered, she could feel their ironic pleasure.
Because it had also been part of their “plan.”
“You did what you had to do,” the Muses said. “You should have no regrets.”
Kaeso leaned forward. “What did you do?”
Cordus flushed and shook his head. “Never mind. I escaped.”
Kaeso nodded slowly. “So how do we find this proof you mentioned? We don't have much time.”
As if to underscore the point, the ship's proximity alert chimed ominously. Kaeso turned back to his tabulari and cursed. “A squadron of Umbra ships just jumped into orbit. They used the quantum way lines.”
Anger exploded from the Muses, and they began whispering violent curses.
Cordus gasped and backed away from her, his eyes wide. Ocella wanted to scream, Yes, they have me! You know! Tell the others!
“How?” he stammered.
The Muses turned her lips into a sneer. “I suppose it was a matter of time before you found out, your grace. Now it is too late.”
Kaeso stared at her. “Ocella?”
“She's one of them,” Cordus said. “She's a Vessel. She’s infected.”
Kaeso jumped up from his couch, but the Muses spread Ocella's hands. “Worship me.”
The Muses pushed the aura from her skin and breath. The chemicals shot toward Kaeso and enveloped him in a vapor cloud he could not see.
Kaeso paused, his eyes fluttering as he fought to control the overwhelming desire to do whatever the Muses told him. He exhaled sharply, then gritted his teeth, staring at her venomously.
Fight it, Kaeso!
The vapor dissipated around Kaeso, and before the Muses could send forth another one, Kaeso's right fist came around in a lightning undercut to her chin. Ocella screamed in triumph as she blacked out with the Muses.
46
Kaeso shook his right hand as he stared down at Ocella. Whatever she'd used to try and stop him was wearing off, but he still felt overwhelming guilt over what he did. You cannot hit a god! Such an unnatural thought only confirmed it was not his.
He eyed Cordus. “Is that how you escaped?”
Cordus still leaned against the bulkhead, staring down at Ocella. Then he looked up at Kaeso and nodded.<
br />
“Was she always a Vessel?” Kaeso asked.
Cordus shook his head. “They could not have hidden that long. I would have known. It must have happened at the compound.”
Kaeso tapped his collar com. “Nestor, Daryush, command deck.”
Lucia climbed up the command ladder. “Centuriae, twelve more Umbra ships just—” She stared at Ocella on the floor. “What happened?”
“She's a Vessel,” Kaeso said, climbing into his command couch. “Get us moving.”
“Cac,” she breathed, stepping over Ocella as if avoiding a snake.
“Centuriae,” Cordus said. “She may have told the Praetorians where we are.”
“Likely.”
“Then we do not have much time. We need to retrieve the records or they will destroy the planet.”
Kaeso nodded. “Let’s hope they’ll try sooner rather than later.”
Cordus frowned, opened his mouth to speak, but Lucia cut him off.
“Roman Eagles just jumped from the alpha way line!”
Kaeso grinned and thanked Fortuna for her luck. He compared the Umbra ship headings with those of the Eagles. Both squadrons converged on his location, their flight paths forming a “V” with Caduceus at the tip.
“Cordus,” Kaeso said, “if Vessels are aboard the Umbra ships and the Eagles, will they fight each other?”
“Under normal circumstances, yes. But it depends on how bad they want me.”
“Then let's give them something to fight over.”
Lucia glanced at Kaeso. “What do you mean?”
Kaeso heard Daryush and Nestor arrive. Without turning, he said, “Take Ocella down to a cabin and strap her into a delta couch. Make sure she's tied down tight. She's a Roman Vessel.”
“What?” Nestor said.
“Just strap her in, and then you two do the same once you're done. We're entering the atmosphere. Cordus, those coordinates?”
The boy recited a longitude and latitude on the planet. Lucia gave Kaeso a sharp look, and Kaeso shook his head.
“Unbelievable,” Kaeso muttered.
“Why?” Cordus asked.
Kaeso exhaled. “Nothing. Lucia, set a course.”
He hoped the weather on Menota, and the city of Pomona, had improved since their last visit.
47
Lepidus stood on the navigation deck of the command ship Fury, grinding his teeth. He watched the holographic display of the space surrounding Menota, the Liberti squadron approaching Caduceus, and the Roman Eagle squadron racing to the same coordinates.
“Once again, Lord Navarch,” Lepidus said to the squadron commander, Vibius Laelius, “the Liberti war ships are irrelevant. We should focus on the—”
“I'd hardly call them irrelevant,” Laelius snapped from his command couch in the center of the deck.
Vibius Laelius was a large man with a quiet, yet deep voice. He was a member of the Collegia Pontificis, which made the unusual decision to make him the mission’s Navarch. Lepidus understood why, considering the mission’s sensitivity. Not only were they chasing the Consular Heir, but Menota was a world the gods and the state had declared off limits to all humanity after the Roman Fleet irradiated it. Even the godless Liberti refused to allow landings there. Why would the Consular Heir want to come to this godsforsaken, plague-infested planet?
“The Liberti have come for a fight, and we will give them one,” Laelius declared. Lepidus frowned at the irrational anger dripping from Laelius's words. Did he not realize the Consul himself had ordered them to follow his traitorous son? The Lord Navarch’s desire to engage the Liberti not only wasted time, but also went against the Consul's orders.
Do not question the Collegia, he reminded himself. They are Vessels of the gods. They are infallible. If Laelius decided it was wiser to attack the Liberti ships, then Lepidus had to trust in the Lord Navarch’s decision.
“Missile range in four minutes, my lord,” said the weapons officer to the right of the Lord Navarch’s couch.
“Sir,” Lepidus said, “please allow me to take a ship and follow Caduceus.”
“Are you mad? I'm about to blow a squadron of Liberti to Hades. I need all my ships.”
“Then at least let me take a shuttle, my lord. The Consul's orders were clear: I am to follow his son, no matter what.”
Laelius frowned as he stared at the holographic display, then he waved his hand. “Very well. You may have an unarmed shuttle.”
Lepidus bowed his head and then retreated, Appius following him. He gave the holographic tactical display one last glance before leaving the command deck.
“Let's get off this ship before they destroy each other,” Lepidus said to Appius under his breath.
“Yes, sir,” Appius said.
Lepidus never commanded an Eagle, but even he could see the trajectories of the opposing squadrons would result in a vicious point-blank shootout. Conventional space battles were fought from long distances, each ship firing missiles and then using their short-range plasma cannons to destroy approaching enemy missiles at close range. Missiles fired at close range caused just as much damage to the firing ship as the target ship.
This is madness, Lepidus thought, surprising himself with his doubts. He quickly stamped them down. Lord Navarch Laelius was a prominent member of the Collegia Pontificis, and therefore in constant communication with the gods. The gods would grace him with the wisdom needed to win this battle, for they would not abandon one of their prophets to inglorious death. If the Lord Navarch’s destiny was to die in this battle, then it would be for a divine reason.
Just because Lepidus couldn’t see the reason did not mean there wasn't one.
As soon as Lepidus and Appius entered the shuttle wing, missile alarms blared through the ship. Lepidus found the closest shuttle hatch, opened it, and descended a ladder into the shuttle's cockpit. The shuttle had no gravity, so Lepidus and Appius floated hand over hand to the pilot couches. Once they strapped themselves in, Lepidus told Appius to fire the engines and disengage from the Eagle. It took Appius a few minutes to prep the shuttle and get the engines started.
“Disengaging,” he announced.
The shuttle was a miniature version of the Eagle, with a long fuselage and glide wings on either side for atmospheric flight. It was attached to the Eagle’s wing, so when the shuttle disengaged, there was a jerk, then the shuttle dropped away from the ship, revealing space, the stars, and the gray outline of Menota to the starboard side.
Lepidus searched the port window for the Liberti ships and their missiles. He couldn’t see them, but they lurked out there several hundred thousand miles from the Eagle. The missiles traveled a quarter of the speed of light, so he'd never see them when they struck. He pulled up the sensor display of the space around the planet. They had less than a minute to clear the Eagle before the missiles hit.
Appius noticed the same thing and engaged the shuttle's ion engines. The acceleration felt like Lepidus was kicked in the chest by a horse. Eagle shuttles did not have anti-gravity or inertia cancellers, since they were too small for such large systems. Lepidus clenched his teeth at the four gravities pressing him into the command couch. He rarely experienced more than two gravities during a passenger shuttle launch and had not endured this many since his Academy days. But it was either this or vaporization when the antimatter missiles hit.
“It’ll be close,” Appius said with a strained voice. The shuttle accelerated another gravity. Darkness crept into the corners of Lepidus’s eyes. He tensed his muscles to increase blood flow, but he’d soon black out if the acceleration did not cease. He couldn’t lift a hand or move his head to see if Appius was still conscious.
A white light filled the cockpit window from behind them. Lepidus made a supreme effort to move his eyes to his terminal and check the hull temperature. The temperature rocketed higher than during atmospheric re-entry. The air grew hotter in the cockpit. Beads of sweat popped on his forehead, then rolled off his head and into his hair.
&n
bsp; “Appius...” he groaned.
“Almost clear,” Appius grunted back.
The white light faded, and the hull temperature began to fall. Appius eased the acceleration to match the dissipation. Once the light faded, Appius brought the shuttle down to a meager half-gravity acceleration.
Lepidus raised his arms and shifted his legs in his couch to stretch out the kinks in his muscles. He’d be sore for a week, as if he'd spent a day lifting five times his weight in bricks.
He checked his display. Eight of Lord Navarch Laelius's twelve Eagles were gone, including the command ship Fury. Of the surviving four, only two maneuvered for another assault on the Liberti ships. The disabled two continued on their old trajectory toward interstellar space without correction. The Liberti squadron lost six ships, two were disabled and four moved to engage the surviving Eagles. Thankfully the Liberti did not seem interested in a lone shuttle flying toward the planet.
Lepidus ground his teeth. If they destroyed each other, he would not have a way home. The shuttle did not have way line engines or a delta sleep system. Not even an old-fashioned sleeper crib. Shuttles transported personnel and cargo from ship to ship, and ship to ground. He would need a starship to get back to Terra, and if those fools—
He took a deep breath. The Lord Navarch had a plan. He could not see it now, but the gods did this for a reason. Lepidus had a role to play, and he would follow orders. The gods would either allow him to succeed, or they would not. Either way, he accepted his fate.
“I have Caduceus on sensors,” Appius said.
On Lepidus’s display, a ship called Vacuna descended into Menota's atmosphere. The burning air surrounding them would make their instruments useless during re-entry. With Fortuna's help, the antimatter explosions may have hidden them from before “Vacuna” began re-entry.
“We can still surprise them,” Lepidus said. “What is their heading?”
Appius checked his terminal. “If they continue on their current heading, they should land near the city of Pomona.”
