Annales Imperii - I. Ostiia

by Ted Mayes

  “If I can't do anything about it, I'll have to let you try it your way.” The conversation faltered again and her father tried to pay the bill. However, he'd made no effort to find out what was acceptable in Ostia and was stumped that Pietro's wouldn't accept a credit card or US currency. Amanda had pulled an aureus out of a pocket and paid for the meal. After she collected her change, she led her father out of the restaurant, giving him a quick lesson in imperial money and, because she thought he'd really appreciate it, she guided him to the money pit.

  He was impressed by the sight and even more impressed that she'd been in the pit, that it was real and not just some kind of illusion. He'd stared at the coins for a while and then Amanda had said, “Something else for you to consider, Dad. I've learned to listen very closely to exactly what the imperials say. Lots of people have told me that this is the emperor's money. No one has said that this is all the money the emperor has.”

  * * * * *

  The week after the escort trip, Beth was greatly relieved that the individuals who had been tracking her had been identified. A private investigator found all the information on Beth he’d collected somehow gone from his possession. Jon had said with a smile, First with a full decury of praetorians had made a courtesy call on the investigator and 'encouraged' him to never take a job like that again. The foreign elements were under surveillance and information about them turned over to the FBI, who had reported that they would soon be arrested and deported. So, Beth could breathe a little easier. A diplomatic protest had been forwarded to the dictator, Jon said, and hopefully he'd take care of his sons, but if not, First had promised she wouldn't be bothered in the future.

  That wasn't the only great thing, though. Their idea of a 'contest' for high school science teachers had been accepted and proved very popular, so popular that the emperor had mandated separate contests for different regions of the globe, and the Monday after her escort trip, she'd been very pleased to carry a letter to Mr. Simpson informing him that he was one of the North American teachers selected for that trip. She was happy for him and the whole school was excited. Beth, however, was even more pleased that none of the attention was fastened on her.

  The other great thing in her life was Jon. The 'dating' was going well, except that they were both so busy that it was sometimes difficult to find time to do things together. One evening they 'babysat' Brent and Sophie in the apartment over Jordan's while the parents were gone and that had gone well, too. Aside from changing Sophie's diaper (which Jon had helped with), it had been an entertaining evening. They had played with the kids, Beth had fixed a supper for all of them, and then they'd read books to the little ones. After the children were in bed, Jon had even helped with the dishes, but he had modestly disclaimed all praise for doing so – he said he'd grown up with the rule that if you ate the food, you helped with the clean-up.

  Then there was the fact that they were going on another 'official' date. They'd gone to one of her high school's games, but Jon had managed to get a couple of the tickets for the Chiefs-Bills game, which, Jon said, were some of the season tickets that the empire had purchased quietly. So, after early church on Sunday morning, they'd packed a lunch and taken off in Beth's car for Arrowhead. She let Jon drive since she wasn't as familiar with that part of the city, and just sat back and relaxed. They pulled into the parking lot and ate lunch out of their trunk, surrounded by all the various tailgate parties that were going on.

  They talked mostly about school, hers and his. She was still trying to watch some of the records of Jon's classes and was starting to get a little worried, because it was all quite a bit more difficult than what she was seeing in high school. “I just keep wondering whether I'll be able to handle any of that stuff next year,” she said with a sigh.

  “I have to admit that university classes are tougher than I expected, but I've talked about the whole thing with my Dad. First of all, public high schools like yours are for everyone, so they have to aim somewhere in the middle and hope they can educate everyone. Dad says that the imperial university is more like European higher education – it's not for everyone, because not everyone needs a university education. Instead, the university is only for some, even though continuing education of all different kinds is available to any who are interested. As far as you being able to handle it, Dad said that all our codjits could handle it, though not all of them will.”

  “But that class you have with your Dad, that's just all over my head.”

  “I'm in that class in my first year because I'm specializing in law and government. You will probably be studying something else, so, if you have to take that particular class, it could be much later, and you'll probably be more ready for it then.”

  “That takes care of a little bit of worry, I guess, but not all of it, for sure.”

  “Well, if there's one thing I learned from basic, it's that it only makes sense to concentrate on the here and now, rather than being petrified by fears of the far-off future.” Jon paused for a bit. “Actually, if I wanted to be petrified by fears of the future, I'd be looking a little farther off than the university.”

  “Okay, so what bothers you about the future?” Beth asked as she started cleaning up their lunch with Jon's help.

  “The emperor's colonizing the moon now, and the rumors I've been hearing say that it's a good possibility that other nations or companies may start colonies in the not too distant future. I wonder what it will be like in the long run for those people who are colonists. Will they be able to adjust to permanently living underground? Will their kids have problems if they travel in space or visit Earth where everything is 'out in the open? Then, I don't have too much doubt about the fact that the emperor intends to do something similar on Mars, and maybe put some kind of colony on Venus. Won't that just make the problems greater? And what if interstellar flight becomes a possibility? Science fiction writers have been theorizing for decades about the problems, political and cultural, problems that could arise then – are we going to be living through the reality of those problems?”

  They closed up the car and began following the crowd toward the stadium, walking hand-in-hand. “You know,” Beth mused, “one of the things that I really admire about you is your concern for other people. I could see it in basic, and now here you are worrying about the colonists' future.”

  Jon shrugged. “I don't know that it's so much something about me – it's just that some problems are so obvious once you look at human experience. Seeing the problems that Britain had with her colonies – not to mention lots of other colonial powers – how can anyone expect there wouldn't be lots and lots of problems in setting up new colonies on the Moon or on Mars?”

  “The difference,” she said emphatically, “is that we, or at least you, know that there will be problems, and maybe even have a good guess at what some of those problems might be. I would think that would make dealing with the problems easier, and maybe eliminate some of them.”

  “That sounds good, but you know that only means that there will be new problems.”

  “Sure, but that's no big thing to 'irrepressibly cheerful' me. If new problems come along, we'll just solve them,” she said emphatically.

  Jon gave her a slow look and then said, “You know, that sounds really nice.”

  “What?”

  “That we'll solve the problems.” She might have blushed a little at that, but Jon went on. “That does bring up another topic of discussion, but I'm sure it's a little early to be bringing it up for discussion now. With what the consul said about how 'extraordinary' we are together and you being so confident that we'll solve things, at some time in the future, when you think it's a good time for it, maybe we should talk about making this a permanent team?”

  It was a good thing that walking was an automatic thing, because otherwise Beth would have had trouble putting one foot in front of another. As it was her mind was racing madly, but filled with no coherent thoughts, while Jon led her through the gates and up the ramps and s
tairs to their seats. When she finally sat down, the sense of unreality lessened a bit. “You surprised me,” she finally said.

  “How did I do that?” he replied, his attention seemingly focused on the players warming up.

  “Aren't guys supposed to be very reluctant to settle down? And aren't girls supposed to bring up the idea of 'permanent' relations?”

  “That does seem to be the stereotype, at least among non-imperials. But may I make two points before either of us starts feeling really weird? One, it sounded like a pretty broad hint to me that in the future we would solve whatever problems came along. And two, all that's been said so far is that I'm willing to talk about the possibility whenever, at some time in the future, you want to talk about it.”

  Beth tried to put it all in the back of her mind and forget about it. It was easier while they were at Arrowhead with all the noise and excitement of the game – even easier after the Chiefs beat the Bills. It was a little more difficult after the game. Jon took her on a short tour of the southern side of Kansas City. They drove through the Plaza, which wasn't bad. He drove her through Mission Hills which, rumor had it, had a higher per capita income than Beverly Hills. It wasn't so bad seeing the Russell Stover mansion and Joe Montana's new house, but it made her feel a little off, when she decided that she'd never want anything that big in the future – too much to take care of.

  It was the worst at night, thinking about all that had gone on. Good grief, she was 17 and still in high school. That just didn't seem to be the right time to begin thinking about 'permanent' things.

  11 – November-December 1993

  Michael came to breakfast in a mood that could not be described as happy, although he tried very hard not to show it. He had a smile for Amanda and a grin and a nod for Tommy, but all the praetorians, including the new batch of youngsters, seemed to sense something was unusual and they didn't seem at all anxious to be too near to the consul.

  Amanda just looked at him. “Wrong side of the bed this morning?” was all she said.

  “Not exactly,” he grimaced. “Just a diplomatic event I'd rather not attend, and...” he looked significantly at Tommy “... a distinct feeling that impossible situation we talked about at New Hope is getting even closer.”

  While the two men shared a long look, Amanda burst out with a frustrated “When are the two of you going to stop keeping secrets?”

  Tommy just shrugged, but Michael gave her a grin that didn't seem very cheerful before saying, “Not at any time very soon.”

  “Okay, but then start eating, because I have a bunch of questions for you.”

  Tommy snorted. “It would be a surprise if you didn't have any questions,” he mumbled. Then, after she swatted him with her napkin, he pretended to be physically hurt.

  That, at least, brought a genuine smile to Michael's face. He took a bite of breakfast. “So, what's the first question?”

  “This past Thursday, everyone else in the continental US was sitting down to a turkey dinner with the family – everyone except you guys. For you it was just another day. What gives?”

  Michael took another bite before answering. “Did you think that we, that I, was just kidding when we said we weren't a part of the US, but part of the empire? Latins celebrate imperial holidays, not American ones.”

  “So do you have a thanksgiving?”

  “I guess you could say so, but it's called Honors Day. It falls on December 31st and many families or groups of friends get together and celebrate. There are religious services to give thanks for the past year, feasting, and the Imperial Honors List is published.”

  “And what is that?”

  “You've already heard about it. Honors and wound medals are given out as they happen, but on the Honors List all winners of imperial honors, honor, magnus honor, summus honor, for the year are listed. The honors can be awarded by the emperor or officers. For officers, there's a limit to the honors that can be handed out and they usually happen at the end of the year. A centurion is limited to one honor.” Turning to Tommy, he said, “Don't forget that means you get to make an award this year, if you want to.”

  “How about you?” Amanda asked.

  “I can award as many as six honores and four magnos honores, but I get a lot of suggestions from people under me about who deserves honor.”

  “What about the emperor?”

  “How many can he give out? As many as he wants. Although he can be very generous, he tends to be a little restrained in handing out honors so that they really mean something. Even the 'you-forgot-to-duck' medal is only given to those who have been wounded in battle.”

  “What would happen if someone tried to claim honors they hadn't earned?”

  Michael finished his plate and took a swallow of coffee before answering. “The only Imperial who's tried that was stripped of all rank and honors and sent to the fighting as a private – and he remained there until he died. A foreigner claiming to be an imperial who tried to do that, well, if he was lucky, the emperor would hear about it and 'call him to active duty', then give him the worst duties anyone can think of – like imperial inspector of manure, or something.”

  “And if he's not lucky?”

  “Then the marines hear about it first,” and Michael nodded to Tommy to continue.

  Tommy smiled a cold smile that Amanda could only describe as 'evil' and said, “If they're lucky, we just beat the crap out of them and put them into the hospital. If they aren't lucky, we drop them, neatly attired in imperial uniform, at the closest concentration of criminals we can find, and they put him in the morgue.”

  Amanda felt a shiver at the cold tone that Tommy used, but she had asked. “Another topic,” she said as calmly as she could. “I wrote an article on the 'Ark' project, as you asked me to, but I have to say it just didn't feel right. I hadn't been there and laid my eyes on it, so all I could say is that it was all based on the information you gave me.”

  “That was enough, Amanda. You made it clear that this was only what you had been told, but Earth radars had already indicated something going on at L4.”

  “Then how about giving me some explanations? The empire is seriously building a huge hollow spaceship like in that story 'Rendezvous with Rama'? It's going to turn it into a wildlife preserve? The cost has to be tremendous, and getting the raw material? It's just unbelievable, Michael.”

  “Well, it's technically not a spaceship, since it will have no ability to move. As far as cost and materials, the power for the project is supplied by the sun and the raw materials are the near-Earth asteroids that could have caused trouble for Earth. Putting the first ark at the trailing Trojans point will keep it permanently in orbit around the sun. As far as the wildlife preserve is concerned, spreading human civilization is endangering lots of habitats – either we kill off a lot of people or we provide a safe haven for animals who otherwise would be crowded out. And, off the record, this ark is only an experiment. If it works as the experts hope, there may be a number of them built. In fact, we've already had a suggestion to make one ark a 'Jurassic Park,' and that movie's only been out a few months.”

  “When do we, I, get to see it?”

  “Probably not for a while. You've seen pictures of the construction. The shell is almost finished, but then it's going to take a while to prepare the soil. Plenty of inorganic material is available, but it's going to take some time to accumulate the organic material and prepare an atmosphere.”

  “Where is that going to come from? Surely it won't be from Earth's atmosphere?”

  “What I'm told, and I don't understand all of it, is that Venus provides the carbon dioxide, Titan the nitrogen, Ganymede the oxygen, and the other gases are 'available.'”

  “Well, aren't you curious about how it's all being done?”

  “Curious? Of course I'm curious, but it isn't my job. Besides, I don't want to do the study to learn how to understand it. I've got enough trouble protecting what's been done so far and trying to make this 'transition' as orderly an
d peaceful as possible.”

  “Don't want to do the study?”

  “If I remember correctly from my college days, before you got into physics back then, you had to go through some heavy-duty math and science courses. Well, I assume that if imperial science is far beyond what's current 'outside' today, the math and science prerequisites are probably far beyond anything I'd be interested in.”

  Amanda thought that over and seemed to run out of questions on that topic. “Did you say something about a diplomatic event?”

  Michael grimaced. “Yes, the emperor, working through Mary Chen, has reached a tentative agreement with various governments and UN agencies about excavating colonies for others. Apparently, it requires an official signing event that needs an imperial presence. So, a week from Friday, we have to appear at a diplomatic party in New York City for an official signing of the agreement.”

  Tommy frowned but said nothing. Amanda's eyes got wide as she asked quietly, “We?”

  “We. Tommy, we're going to take a scout transport and two decuries. The event is at the Waldorf-Astoria and I want you to figure out a way to get in there quietly.”

  Amanda repeated herself. “We?”

  Michael smiled thinly. “I believe I told you that I was going to dump diplomatic stuff into your lap, didn't I? Yes, we will be going to New York City for this soirée.”

  “But … how are you going to make sure that I don't escape? Don't you know how easy it would be to disappear in the city?”

  Michael looked very grim. “If there's one thing I'm sure of, it's that I know much better than you what can happen on the streets of New York.” And it would be interesting, he thought, to see what she actually decided.