Muses of Roma (Codex Antonius Book 1)

by Rob Steiner

  Lepidus frowned. Why did they flee to a dead world like Menota? A thriving black market existed for Pomona artifacts. But the pursuit of treasures seemed a frivolous act for Caduceus, considering the Praetorian Guard was chasing them. Lepidus assumed they would flee to some well-defended Liberti stronghold. Why had they come to a planet where they could not hope to defend themselves?

  Unless they knew the Liberti would be here.

  “Three Eagles just came off the way line,” Appius announced. “One has the Consular beacon.”

  Thank the gods, Lepidus thought. A sane man will now command the battle.

  “They're engaging the Liberti ships,” Appius said.

  Lepidus looked at his display. All three Eagles fired their missiles at the remaining Liberti. At their distance from the Liberti, the missiles would not hit their targets for another ten minutes.

  Lepidus breathed easier. The more Eagles there were, the greater chance they’d destroy the Liberti warships. And the greater chance he’d have a way home once he found the boy. The Consul’s presence did not surprise him, considering this was the Consul’s plan.

  Though the Consul said Ocella was no longer a threat, Lepidus would treat her as an enemy until she proved otherwise. She’d been his prey for a week, not to mention she betrayed the Liberti, then Roma, and now the Liberti again. He told himself he did not doubt the Consul, only Ocella. Her accidental death would be most unfortunate.

  “Caduceus’s heading to Pomona is confirmed, Evocatus. They’re landing near the city center.”

  Lepidus brought up a display of Pomona and zoomed in on the buildings surrounding Caduceus. “Set us down on the Hospital of Angita’s landing pad a half-mile southeast of their location.”

  “Course set,” Appius said. “Entering the atmo— Sir, two more Liberti ships just appeared!”

  “Off the way line?”

  “No, sir. They appeared next to the fleeing Eagles, but they did not come from the way line. They must have the same engines as Caduceus. They're firing missiles.”

  The two new Liberti signatures were almost on top of the Eagles fleeing the opening salvo with the Liberti. Several dots flew from the Liberti ships and then, seconds later, expanded into a cloud of plasma vapor enveloping all five ships.

  He was surprised the godless Liberti sacrificed themselves. He was even more surprised they would sacrifice themselves in a situation that did not call for it. The fleeing Eagles were damaged, no longer a threat to them. He imagined numerous tactics the Liberti could have used against the Eagles without killing themselves in the process.

  Before he could wonder more, his display blanked out. A white plasma cloud blossomed outside the window. They were entering the atmosphere, and their instruments were useless while the ship's collision with Menota's air engulfed it in several thousand degrees of white plasma. The deceleration pushed Lepidus into his couch straps, but it was no where near as bad as the acceleration.

  He would have to wait to find out the battle’s outcome. He spent the next ten minutes praying to Jupiter for the strength and wisdom to accomplish his mission.

  Oh, Jupiter Optimus Maximus, grant me and my apprentice your strength to do the will of your servant, the Eternal Consul Marcus Antonius. I pledge to follow the path you would have me follow, to destroy all those who would harm your people, and to give you glory and honor through my deeds today.

  Lepidus opened his eyes and looked upon the bright clouds surrounding the shuttle. Dark blue sky reigned above, and the billowing cloud formations rose in miles-high columns all around them. Menota's sun shown through one such formation, shining rays on the blanket of clouds below.

  A sign from Jupiter. I have lit the way for you, child. Lepidus’s heart sighed, and peace flowed through him. The peace of a man whose path was set.

  “We have instruments again,” Appius said.

  Lepidus brought up a sensor view of the space above Menota. Two more Eagles came off the way line and engaged with another pair of Liberti warships.

  The Consul had committed almost two squadrons to this battle. So had the Liberti. Where did these ships come from? Lepidus thought most available Eagle squadrons surrounded Libertus. The Consul viewed his son's retrieval a top priority, but Lepidus assumed it was a secret priority. The Roman people could not know the Consular Heir was a traitor. It would shake the faith of those whose faith was not as strong as Lepidus’s.

  But it wasn’t heresy to note the Roman Fleet was weaker than it once was only a decade ago. It took most of its strength to lay siege to a single star system, while its reserves protected strategic planets and waystations throughout the Republic. Could the Consul afford to commit this many squadrons to retrieve his traitorous son?

  Could he afford not to, considering the upheaval it would cause if the truth were known?

  Lepidus considered these things as the shuttle descended into Menota’s perpetual cloud cover. The strong winds buffeted the shuttle, but it plowed through the clouds and emerged three thousand feet above the planet’s gray, brown surface.

  “Nearing the landing pad,” Appius said.

  They flew over the ruins of Pomona and then hovered over an ash-covered landing pad on Pomona’s former hospital. When they landed with a heavy jolt, Lepidus unbuckled the belts on his couch.

  The gods’ will be done.

  48

  Kaeso put the EVA helmet over Cordus's head and then sealed the bindings. He tapped a key on Cordus's wrist pad, which began the airflow from the small tank on his back.

  “Feel the air?”

  The boy sniffed, then nodded.

  “Good. You ever use an EVA suit?”

  “Not one this old,” Cordus said.

  “Right. It operates the same way as the fancy ones you patricians use. It responds to your eye movement the same way, but you adjust air flow on your wrist pad.”

  “It is heavier than I am used to.”

  “I don't have a child-sized suit, so you'll have to make do with this one. Can you manage?”

  Cordus nodded. Kaeso grinned and then donned his helmet.

  Lucia entered Cargo One just as Kaeso sealed his helmet and enabled the airflow. “The Roman shuttle landed on an old hospital pad about a half-mile southeast.”

  Kaeso frowned, then nodded. They knew about the Roman shuttle since it left its Eagle mother ship and had hoped it was destroyed in the battle between Umbra and the Eagles. But when Caduceus’s re-entry plasma dissipated, they saw the shuttle had survived and continued to follow. Kaeso chose to land in Pomona and proceed with the plan anyway. If they didn’t retrieve Cordus’s evidence now, they never would.

  Kaeso sighed, thinking of the plan they dashed together as they fell through Menota’s atmosphere. I have a better chance getting back into Umbra than making this work.

  Lucia zipped up her EVA suit and fastened her helmet. Kaeso watched her and then said, “Daryush could get the engines fixed faster with your help.”

  “Probably,” Lucia said. “They'd get done even faster if you helped him, but we both know that won’t happen, right, Centuriae?”

  Kaeso grunted. He was once an Ancile. Besides a Vessel, he knew the Muses as well as any human could, and he was trained for unpredictable situations. He had to go. But Lucia was right. He could not explore the vaults while keeping an eye out for Cariosa and Praetorians and Cordus and the proof. Kaeso needed help. Daryush had to fix the engines. Gaia Julius had surprising technical knowledge for a patrician, so she was helping Daryush. Nestor and Blaesus were brave, but they wouldn't stand a chance in a fight with Praetorians. The only other person on the ship that came close to his training was Lucia.

  Besides Ocella, that is.

  Kaeso checked the ammunition in his pulse pistol, holstered it, and then slapped his hand on the cargo controls. The cargo ramp descended. Eddies of ash and dust swirled into the bay.

  Kaeso activated his ship’s intercom with his eyes. “We’re leaving Cargo One now. Make sure she's sealed up tigh
t. If the Romans attack—”

  “Trust me, Centuriae,” Blaesus said, “we will not let them in for eels and garum.”

  “I was going to say, if the Romans attack, I want you to leave. They will destroy the ship if you resist them.”

  Blaesus snorted. “And you think our chances are better against the Eagles above us?”

  “Yes. The Eagles are preoccupied right now. You can get away.”

  Blaesus snorted again, but didn't say anything.

  Gaia Julius weighed in. “Get that evidence, Centuriae. We need to give the Muses something to fear.”

  Nestor said, “That evidence is worth my life. We’re not leaving without it.”

  “Speak for yourself, Greek,” Blaesus said. “I don’t know if I’d die for some theoretical evidence.” Then he paused. “But I would die for my crew.”

  Daryush grunted an affirmative over the com.

  Kaeso shook his head in his helmet. “You're all going to disobey a direct order from your centuriae?”

  “Yes,” Nestor and Blaesus said almost simultaneously.

  Gaia said, “You don’t command me, Centuriae. So I shall ignore you as I wish.”

  “Fools,” Kaeso said. Lucia chuckled over her com. He turned to her and said, “You don't have that option. If you're coming with us, you will follow my orders. Clear?”

  “Yes, sir,” Lucia said, a glint in her eyes.

  Kaeso regarded Cordus. “I don't care if you’re the Consular Heir, you'll do what I say, too.”

  Cordus nodded. “I will defer to your judgment.”

  Kaeso turned and led them down the ramp into the swirling clouds of particulates. The weather and the landscape had not changed since their last visit. Empty buildings stood like crosses along the street. Ground cars sat in an eternal traffic jam on the city’s main thoroughfare. Just as before, Kaeso saw no bodies in either the cars or the roads and sidewalks.

  But as he learned last week, the underground was different.

  Kaeso brought up the map of the city center on his helmet display. The coliseum was straight ahead, and the theater across the street. Lucia landed the ship in virtually the same place as last week, so he knew the obstacles between him and the vaults.

  He gave the southeast a quick glance to see if anyone followed them. The Roman shuttle had landed on a hospital a half-mile from their location. It would take the Praetorians several minutes to navigate through the ruined hospital, then several more minutes to reach Caduceus. They had time, but not much.

  Kaeso maintained a quick pace and soon heard Cordus breathing heavy over his open com. He wasn't surprised, considering the suit was built for an adult and Menota’s gravity was ten percent greater than Terra's.

  He half-turned to Cordus. “Need to slow down?”

  “I can keep up,” he said between breaths.

  “Tell me something,” Kaeso said. “How did the Cariosus survive in the vaults? Infectees attacked us just last week. The irradiation should have left nothing alive on the planet.”

  “Shielding,” Cordus breathed. “The Cariosa Muses set up shelters against irradiation in case the Terran Muses found them.”

  Lucia asked, “They knew the Romans would irradiate the planet?”

  “They knew it was possible. The Cariosa Muses did it to the Roman Muses two million years ago.”

  “Long memories,” Lucia said.

  “You have no idea.”

  Kaeso grunted. “I assume these vaults will give us an idea?”

  “Some. At least enough to show humanity what the Muses are and what they did to other species.”

  “I thought your Muses were of the Terran strain. How do you know this evidence is here?”

  Cordus was silent a moment. “I...I am guessing.”

  Kaeso stopped, turned around and glared at the boy. Cordus took a step back when he saw Kaeso's face.

  “We fled to this planet on your assurance it had evidence of Muse influence on Terra. We could have gone anywhere else, but we came here. Because of you. Are you saying this evidence may not even be here?”

  The boy's mouth opened and closed. “I admit I do not know for sure the evidence is here. But I know the alien species that hosted the Cariosa strain before humans arrived were meticulous record keepers. This planet was one of their bases, so they would have kept records here on the Terra strain and its locations. And the Saturnists believe those records are in these vaults.”

  “Meticulous record keepers,” Kaeso said. “You're risking the lives of my crew because you think there might be evidence here. Gods...”

  “Ocella agreed with this plan.”

  “Ocella's not here. She never will be again.”

  Kaeso turned and stalked ahead.

  “Where are you going?” Cordus asked.

  “To the vaults. What choice do I have? We're committed now.” Kaeso whirled around and pointed a finger at Cordus. “But you'd better be right. If not, we're all going to die because of your guess.”

  Cordus glowered at him. “I am right.”

  Kaeso turned and proceeded down the thoroughfare. He realized blaming the boy was shameful. It wasn't going to bring back Flamma or Dariya. Flamma’s death and Dariya’s infection were on him. It was his decision to take the Umbra mission to Terra. If he hadn't, Flamma would still be alive. It was his decision to come to Menota in the first place. If he hadn't, Dariya wouldn’t be dying. Kaeso lashed out at the boy because he couldn't lash out at himself. Completing the mission was the only thing he could do to give some meaning to the death and suffering of his crew.

  Kaeso did not need the map on his helmet display, for he remembered the way up the dead streets. He led Lucia and Cordus around ruined cars and debris from the crumbling buildings. The wind still howled through the cavernous streets, sending dust and ash at them in gentle clouds one moment, then blasts that staggered them the next. All the while, Kaeso noticed the sun to his right—a hazy glow in the western sky—descending behind Pomona's buildings, creating shadows every bit as dark as night. In another hour, the whole thoroughfare would be covered in darkness, and they’d have a hard enough time making it back to the ship through the constant gales.

  Kaeso found the theater and entered through the front door. He strode through the garishly decorated lobby, into the theater, and through the torn curtains to the elevator backstage. Mummified bodies lay in heaps on either side of the elevator, exactly where his crew left them last week.

  Flamma's rigging of the elevator control panel was still there, so all Kaeso had to do was attach Flamma’s battery to the nodes protruding from the panel. He took the battery from a pocket on his suit, connected it to the nodes, and pressed the door controls. The doors slid open, and Kaeso went inside followed by Cordus and Lucia. Kaeso hit the controls inside and the door slid shut. Small emergency lights bathed them in a dark red haze. All three turned on their helmet lights, illuminating themselves and the dust floating around inside. The elevator gave a jerk and then descended.

  Lucia unslung her pulse rifle, ensured it was charged, and then held it in a firing position aimed at the cracks in the door. Kaeso unholstered his own pulse pistol and chambered a round.

  Cordus regarded them nervously. “How bad were they?”

  Without glancing at him, Lucia said, “Let's hope Dariya fried them all. Otherwise we have problems.”

  The elevator’s level indicator descended past the ground floor and continued to drop.

  “What are we looking for?” Kaeso asked Cordus. He'd asked the boy before, but Kaeso would rather ask repetitive questions than wait in silence for the elevator to reach the vaults.

  “A tabulari,” Cordus said. “It would not be of normal Roman design, but it will have a similar interface.”

  “Will we be able to read it?”

  “Most likely. All the Muse strains speak to their hosts in their native language. The hosts would have created the tabulari with the language and tools the hosts knew.”

  “And if we can'
t read it?” Lucia asked.

  “I can read it.”

  Kaeso shook his head. “That's not good enough. If you want people to believe you're more than a traitor with a fantastic story, you'll need proof that doesn't rely on your own interpretation. You're trying to overturn a thousand years of doctrine and culture.”

  Cordus bit his lip, but didn't say anything. Kaeso was not encouraged.

  The elevator jerked to a stop. Kaeso and Lucia both held up their weapons as Cordus moved behind them.

  The door opened to blackness. Dust floated out of the elevator with their movements and settled on the hallway floor. Kaeso and Lucia shined their helmet lights on the blackened floor ten feet from the elevator.

  But the charred bodies of the Cariosa were gone.

  Lucia cursed and scanned ahead with her pulse rifle in a firing position beneath her helmeted chin. “Maybe the Romans took them?”

  “Does it matter who did?” Kaeso asked.

  “Yes. That would mean other Cariosa didn’t.”

  Kaeso kept his pistol pointed down the corridor. “Where do we go?” he asked Cordus.

  Cordus said in a tight voice, “I suppose we should start with these first doors.”

  “Just garbage in there,” Kaeso said. The first door on the right held the marques he risked his crew’s lives to obtain, unless Corus’s Lady Centuriae took them. If so, the marques were now atoms floating above Menota. Kaeso didn’t care to check the room to make sure. They were nothing but bloody bits of paper to him now.

  “We never got to the control rooms at the end of the hall,” Kaeso said.

  “Infectees might be there,” Lucia said nervously.

  “And our proof,” Kaeso said.

  He stepped into the blackened hallway. Footprints disturbed the area where the charred bodies once lay. Some prints came from boot treads and some from bare feet. The door to the marque holding room was still open, and Kaeso swung his pistol around the corner, ready to fire at anything that jumped at him.

  No one was in the room. The marques were gone as well. The empty way line canisters Kaeso and Dariya had set up to fool the Romans lay near the wall. A bitter taste arose in Kaeso's mouth; he fought the urge to spit.