Templum Veneris

by Jeremy L. Jones

  Even if she got caught again, at least she would be trying to live life on her terms. For the first time since she left Britannia, she would really be who she was supposed to be. She would be a thief. A no-good, untrustworthy, lying thief, just like her brother brought her up to be.

  Compared to being a diplomat, thieving was positively honorable.

  Althea stood up and started walking toward the main road that would lead her to the gates and the shuttle waiting outside. She was only a few steps from the fountain before she heard a frantic voice behind her. “Mulher da Terra! Mulher da Terra!”

  A sickening desperation swept over Althea. She recognized the voice. She turned to see the pregnant woman from the previous night waddling up to her, clutching her belly. Before Althea could react, the woman threw her arms around her chattering away in Cytherean.

  Althea shook her head. “No, no! Please. No!” she said, trying to push her away.

  Althea got a grip on each of the soon-to-be mother’s forearms and spoke the woman’s language slowly and deliberately. “Eu nao posso te ajudar. Desculpas. Eu nao posso ajudar”

  “Fugimos?” said the woman.

  “Fugimos?” Althea repeated, not understanding the word. “Nao, nao fugimos.”

  The woman pulled her arms away from Althea grasp’s and repeated the words. “Fugimos. Fugimos a Terra. Fugimos a Terra!”

  Every time she repeated herself, the woman’s voice grew more desperate.

  Althea tried to concentrate. She was tired, and the little bit of Cronus’ language program that made it into her brain failed her now. As much as she tried, she couldn’t understand what the woman wanted.

  The pregnant woman pointed to the sky and repeated the same phrase. “Fugimos a Terra!”

  She looked up at the sky and understood.

  Althea pointed to where the woman did. “Fugimos?”

  The woman clutched her belly and nodded furiously.

  “Fugimos… Terra?”

  The woman nodded again.

  Althea reached out and touched the woman’s belly. “Salve o seu bebe. Ajuda lo. Fugimos Terra.”

  Save your baby. Help you escape to Earth.

  The woman brightened instantly. She grinned and clapped her hands together, but it did nothing for Althea. It didn’t matter if she understood the woman or not, she was powerless.

  She was about to say as much, but she stopped. Why couldn’t she? She was confined to the shuttle, that was all. Back on Earth, the Human Reconnection Project was going to be a memory. Her last official act might as well be an altruistic one.

  Althea clutched the woman’s hands and smiled. “Salve o sue bebe,” she repeated. “Ajuda lo. Fugimos Terra.”

  Althea took the woman’s arm and led her away from the Sala Gran toward the Via Maximilliano and gates that led outside the city.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Until the year 2096, the so-called Brazilian-American war had been primarily fought in cyberspace or through economic sanctions. But Adriana’s edict gave the global corporations the perfect excuse to push the United States and its allies into all-out war. In May of that year, the first American warships, aircraft and spacecraft began the bombardment of Rio De Janeiro and Adriana’s home town of Santo.

  The invasion was sold to the world as an attempt to rescue a captive population from a power-mad dictator. Through it all, the rebel governments condemned her with as much enthusiasm as they once embraced her and the global insurgency she inspired.

  -From The Fall: The Decline and Failure of 21st Century Civilization by Martin Raffe

  Isra walked into her room in the Sala. The servants had already been in to light a fire in the room’s hearth and left a tray with a pitcher of honey wine and a couple of cups on the table by the bed. She sighed and sat down on the hard mattress. The confrontation with Althea was over now. The adrenaline washed away from her mind leaving only exhaustion and regret.

  She was doing the right thing, wasn’t she? To figure out what game the Rainha was playing, Isra would have to play her part. She would have to pretend to dance to Isabel’s song until the right time. It depressed her to have to turn on Althea, if only in appearance, but it was the only way. Althea would forgive her in time. She had that kind of gentle soul.

  A knock on the door gave Isra a start. The Rainha or Celia probably sent a soldier for another evening’s ‘entertainment.’ As much fun as it had been the previous night, she wasn’t in the mood.

  “Not tonight,” said Isra at the door. “Tell the Rainha thank you.”

  “It’s me,” said Viekko, opening the door. He looked around the room. “Anythin’ to drink in this pit?”

  Isra nodded in the direction of the tray. Viekko filled a cup with honey wine and swallowed it all in one gulp.

  “You are back quickly,” Isra observed. “You took Althea all the way back to the ship?”

  Viekko filled the cup again. “Just leave her alone, Isra.”

  The outburst on the balcony had been an act. A necessary ruse to make sure whoever was watching, would dutifully go back and inform the Rainha that Isra’s team was fragmenting. But now that Viekko had openly defied an order, she found herself becoming upset for real. “I told you that I wanted you to escort Miss Fallon to the shuttle.”

  Viekko took a drink. “No matter how many times you call her ‘Miss Fallon,’ it don’t mean it ain’t Althea and it don’t mean you ain’t throwin’ her under the horse.”

  “She jeopardized this entire mission.”

  “She was stayin’ true to what she believes. That’s all. Now I find these folk as agreeable as you, but Althea was right. There’s some badness at work here. Maybe Althea took it too far, but we shouldn’t hold it against her, and we shouldn’t compromise everythin’ we believe in so that the Rainha likes us.”

  Isra stood up and glared at Viekko. “All I want is a medical officer that tends to sick and wounded crew members and a security officer that deals with threats to the mission. Are you all absolutely incapable of following orders?”

  Viekko, by way of response, didn’t move at all except to bring the cup to his mouth again.

  Isra clenched her teeth. “Fine. I will do it myself.”

  Isra brushed past him and walked out the door. She moved through the hallways leading to the main room and finally to the heavy wood doors leading outside. As she walked, she activated her EROS computer and, once in the courtyard, she searched for Althea’s signal. When she picked it up, she found that the medic was just beyond the garden near the fountain on the opposite side of the Sala Gran.

  She moved quickly but stopped when in sight of the fountain; Althea was there talking to a pregnant Cytherean woman. Something about the way they stood together made Isra pause to watch. Althea had her hand on the woman’s belly, and she said something that Isra couldn’t make out. Isra crept a little closer as Althea clutched the woman’s hands. This time Isra heard the words.

  “Salve o sue bebe. Ajuda lo. Fugimos Terra.”

  Without another word, Althea took the woman’s arm and started walking down the road that led out of the city and toward the ship.

  For a moment, Isra couldn’t believe that she heard Althea correctly. After all, the language programming didn’t work as well for Althea. She’d barely spoken a word of Cytherean since they arrived. Still, if her words hadn’t been completely clear, her actions were.

  A white-hot rage filled Isra’s mind. Insubordination and disobeying orders was bad enough. But trying to smuggle humans back to Earth was unthinkable. It not only put the future of the mission in danger but, potentially, the entire Cytherean civilization. Maybe Earth as well. Not to mention that the Rainha would certainly use it to her advantage.

  Isra took a deep calming breath. The Rainha would use it to her advantage, which meant Isra had to act first. She let Althea continue down the road and out of sight while Isra went back to the Sala.

  ****

  “Please,” begged the Cytherean soldier, standing a
t the door to Isabel’s chamber. “Rainha Isabel cannot be disturbed.”

  “It is an emergency,” said Isra. “I need to speak with her right now.”

  “That is not possible, please come back…”

  Isra called loud enough to be heard on the other side of the door. “Rainha, this is Isra. We must speak. It is about Althea. She has done something.”

  Isra moved to bang on the door, but the soldier stood in her path. “Senhora! Please! You must leave. Leave now, or I will be forced…”

  “Rainha…” Isra called again only louder.

  Isra elbowed the soldier out of the way and raised a fist to bang on the door but, before she could, the door swung open. Isabel stood there slightly disheveled but still looking better than anyone who had been asleep moments before had a right to. Her copper-colored hair fell in an uncoordinated mess across her shoulders and over her breasts, which was handy, because she was wearing a nearly translucent white gown that probably had the soldier thinking extremely patriotic thoughts.

  She regarded Isra for a moment. If she was angry, it didn’t show in her face or the tone of her voice. “Isra. Do people on Earth not sleep?”

  “It is important. There is an issue, and it must be dealt with, discreetly.” Isra cast an eye at the soldier standing at attention near the door.

  Isabel considered this for a moment and opened the door wider. “Very well. Come in.”

  Isra wasn’t sure what she expected from the Rainha’s private chambers. She didn’t see the Cytherean queen living a life of unparalleled luxury, but neither did she picture anything as austere as this. The Rainha’s chambers were as simple as the guest rooms. It had a slightly larger hearth in the center with several wooden chairs set around it. There was a window with a thick, black curtain to keep out the constant sunlight and a bed with a few extra blankets woven in brilliant colors, but that was it. The Rainha of Venus lived quite like the rest of her subjects.

  Isabel took one of the chairs around the hearth and motioned for Isra to do the same. “What is it that you require at this time, Isra?”

  Isra took a deep breath. “Althea just met with a pregnant Cytherean woman outside the Sala. It is the same woman she met yesterday evening. I heard them talking, and I believe she intends to hide her aboard my ship and take her to Earth. ”

  Isabel frowned. “Tell me, Isra. Who gives orders to your people? Who is in charge?”

  “Rainha Isabel, you must understand…” Isra started.

  “Who?” the Rainha barked. “Answer the question.”

  Isra closed her eyes to give herself a moment to center herself. It was the same music that everyone on Cytherea had to dance to. It was just louder now. She didn’t want an explanation, she just wanted the show. “I am. I give the orders.”

  “That is interesting to me,” Isabel hissed. “Because, to me, nobody on Earth listens to orders. I will tell you who does. My people listen to orders. Your people act as if they want to declare war. Well, they will have it.”

  The Rainha was bluffing. She had to be. She was well aware that the soldiers on Earth alone outnumbered her entire civilization by a million to one. It was a war she could not hope to win, which, to Isra, meant that she didn’t really want war, so she decided to call her bluff.

  Isra stood up, shoving the wooden chair back in the process. “You want war with Earth? Is that what you desire? Because…”

  Isra stopped. There was the tiniest gleam in the Rainha’s eye. The corners of her mouth moved just enough to give her away. She did want a war. It made absolutely no sense, none whatsoever, but she did. Why?

  Isra sat back down as fast as she got up. She took a deep breath and smoothed out her clothing to give the appearance of trying to collect herself. When she had given that enough time, she said, “I apologize. I am tired. And I am angry. You are right; my people do not listen to me. They do as they will, despite my orders.”

  When Isabel leaned forward and spoke, her voice was as cold as space itself. “You should punish them. Make them understand.”

  Isra sank down in her chair and nodded. “Of course, Rainha. It will be done. Althea will be confined to our ship. She will not trouble you or your people again.”

  Isabel appeared taken aback, which was exactly what Isra was going for. The Cytherean ruler sneered and leaned toward Isra again. “No. She committed a crime in my city. I demand justice for my people. She must answer for what she has done.”

  Isra straightened up. The Rainha was testing her, wanting her to resist; she wanted the excuse to pursue aggression. Isra was determined not to provide that and bowed her head slightly. “I understand, Rainha. So long as she is not harmed in any permanent fashion, I agree.”

  Isabel got up and started pacing around the open flame. Then she glared at Isra. “That remains to be seen. I may have to cut the child from the woman’s belly. I will need to be sure that the baby has not been corrupted by your insolence. So it would be unjust for Althea to escape without some similar punishment.”

  “If that is what you feel is best for your people,” Isra breathed.

  Isabel circled around the fire until she came to stand next to Isra’s chair. She loomed over her to reinforce the idea of her dominance. But Isra took comfort that her compliance and submission agitated the Rainha. It led credence to her theory, although she still didn’t have an explanation.

  “Shall I call my soldiers to deal with them?” Isabel asked, her voice still hard with anger.

  Isra looked up at her. “You will not be able to get inside the shuttle without me,” said Isra, her voice carefully neutral. “Let me go, I need to know what will happen to her.”

  Isabel fumed and called at the door. “Anton! Enter!”

  The soldier marched in as if he had been waiting for his cue from the beginning. Isabel spoke to him never taking her eyes off Isra. “Assemble a squad. Isra will escort you to her shuttle. You are to arrest Althea and the woman she took there, and you will bring them back here. Understand?”

  The soldier’s arm shot out at a forty-five-degree angle, then he brought his hand palm up just beneath his heart, in the Cytherean salute.

  Isra stood. “I will meet with them outside the Sala. We shall speak afterward.”

  The soldier hurried out of the door, and Isra followed. She let the soldier go about his business and walked toward her room in the Sala. She stopped just outside the door, leaned against the wall, and released a shaking breath.

  “Somethin’ wrong?”

  Viekko watched her with an expectant look. Once again, Isra gathered herself and opened the door to her room. “The Rainha is trying to start a war.”

  Viekko stood beside the door as Isra went inside. “With Earth?”

  “Apparently so.”

  “Why?”

  Isra stopped in the doorway. “I do not know. That is what I want you to help figure out. Go on patrol with Gabriel tomorrow. Learn if the soldiers have heard of some defense plan or any other indication that they are preparing for a full invasion.”

  As Isra went inside, Viekko called into the darkness. “What about Althea?”

  “I am trying to help her. But I am going to need time. Figure out what the Rainha has to gain from a war with Earth.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Rio and Santo fell within a few days of the American onslaught. Sao Palo and Salvado less than a month later. Most major cities within a few miles of the coast were either occupied within a year or bombed out of existence.

  But Brazil never fell. American troops never made it more than fifty miles inland. In the interior of the country, they ran into a population that was well supplied, well prepared, and intended to fight until the last man, woman, and child were dead.

  Every night, the men on the front line who had lost hope or the artillery woman forced to retreat in despair would tune into the national radio station and hear their beloved Lady of Fire urge them on.

  And, by morning, they were ready, once again, to die for Braz
il.

  -From The Fall: The Decline and Failure of 21st Century Civilization by Martin Raffe

  At the shuttle, Althea tried the switch that opened the cargo bay door only to find it locked. This wasn’t terribly surprising, and Althea was ready with a back-up plan. There was a panel just below the switch, and Althea opened it. She glanced back at the pregnant woman, who watched her with nervous anticipation. “All this time, I never asked your name.”