Muses of Terra (Codex Antonius Book 2) (11 page)

Whenever Ocella heard “Umbra Corps”, she instinctively flinched, waiting for the searing pain from the Umbra implant behind her right ear. Umbra Ancilia were forbidden to discuss Umbra with non-Ancilia. The implant, a data and communications link between the Umbra magisterium and its Ancilia, physically prevented discussion of the ultra-secret Corps. Libertus lacked massive fleets of warships, so it used the deadly Ancilia to infiltrate hostile regimes and end threats to Libertus before they began.

But Ocella was no longer in Umbra, which she left when she rescued Cordus six years ago. Still, the promise of pain was not easy to forget.

“I don’t know their capabilities now. Why?”

“Four Umbra ships are on an intercept course with us. They have technology that defies our scans. We would know how to disable them so we can gather more witnesses.”

Ocella turned and stared at the view wall. All she saw was Menota, one gray half bathed in sunlight and the other dark. There was no sign of ships.

Could Umbra ships fight this vessel?
Not the ships that existed when she was an Ancile, but Umbra could make huge leaps within a short period of time.
 

“Like I said, I don’t know their capabilities anymore.”

The Lucia golem “stared” at her as if assessing her truthfulness. She then shrugged in an awkward way, as if she knew what the gesture meant, but did not know how to execute it. She looked to the wall, and Ocella followed her gaze.
 

The view on the wall shifted, magnified, and focused on four black Umbra ships flying toward the alien vessel in a wide formation. Ocella was surprised Umbra still patrolled the Menota system, given the ‘no landings’ treaty between Libertus and Roma had expired with the latter’s civil war. She also assumed they knew the Menota Muse archives were destroyed by the last Roman consul in a fit of Muse-fueled rage. Why were they still here?

Of course. They knew a second way line existed in the Menota system. Had they found it, or were they searching for it like Ocella and the Saturnists?
 

An Umbra ship suddenly disappeared in a white ball of light. When the light dissipated, the ship was gone. Two more ships were destroyed in the same fashion, one after the other. The last ship tried to turn and flee, but did not get far before it succumbed to the same fate.

Ocella stared in shock at the images. Umbra warships were the most advanced ships humanity had ever built. Their power, and secrecy behind the Umbra veil, were what had kept Libertus free for two hundred years.
 

Yet this vessel had destroyed them in moments with a shrug.

“This drone’s memories,” the Lucia golem continued, as if nothing had happened, “say that the Roman Consul destroyed the Menota archives. Why would he commit such a sacrilege?”

When Ocella found her voice again, she blurted, “What do you want with us?”

Lucia stared at her with those monstrously empty sockets. “You are to be witnesses.” She said it as if the statement was self-evident and needed no further explanation. She then cocked her head. “The Roman Consul’s son, Marcus Antonius Cordus, is important to you. This drone’s memories suggest this is so.”

Ocella felt the blood drain from her face.
I will not give this thing Cordus. It will have to kill me.

“This drone’s memories,” Lucia continued, “suggest the boy is a host for a rival strain. ‘Muses’, it calls them. Yet it suggests Cordus can control them. Is this true?”

Ocella turned away from the Lucia golem.
 

“You care for your drones. Would you answer our questions if it would prevent us from hurting the drone behind you?”

Ocella glanced at Varo, whose eyes had widened.
 

The opening behind Lucia irised open, causing Ocella to start. “We will not waste more witnesses. We have the data we need regarding Marcus Antonius Cordus from this drone’s memories. We will meet him at Reantium. The archives on the planet below must be rebuilt. If this drone’s memories are correct, these ‘Muses’ he hosts will help us accomplish this.”

Lucia turned around and left the room. The opening irised shut behind her.

“Centuriae, if this thing gets Cordus—”

Ocella whirled around. “Quiet!”
 

Varo snapped his mouth shut.
 

She had to think. It had been a long time since she was in a hopeless situation like this. Six years, to be exact. There were many more times before that, but she had her Umbra implant to guide her. Its link to the wisdom of the Liberti Muses gave her all the knowledge she needed to think her way out of dangerous situations.

But like every other Ancile, she came to rely on the implant. Now, she tried to focus through the fear and doubt clouding her mind.
 

She was trapped in an alien vessel. She needed to escape, and any plan had to involve Varo. She could not discuss the plan with him for fear the aliens were listening. Now that they had Lucia’s memories, they knew their language. How could she communicate with Varo in a way the aliens would not understand?
 

 
Or, how could she communicate with Varo in a way
Lucia
would not understand?

Lucia was a Roman citizen. As far as Ocella knew, she had never learned another language besides the universal Latin spoken by almost every human. While some worlds—and some Terran regions—still spoke various ethnic languages, Latin was the language of human commerce.

Ocella caught Varo’s gaze and said in ancient Aramaic, “Can you understand me?”

Varo looked confused, and Ocella wondered if he had ever learned the language of his ancestors. Varo thought a moment, then said in Aramaic, “It has been a long time. I can understand, but speak little.”

Ocella bared her teeth in a smile. “Good. We have some things to discuss.”

11

Cordus awoke to a savage pain in his limbs and head. He groaned, his eyes still shut.

“It’ll pass in a few moments,” a female voice said near his side.

It took all the strength Cordus possessed to open his eyes. His sight was clouded and gritty. He blinked several times, though each blink brought stabbing agony in the center of his head. But the more he blinked, the more the pain faded. Once the cloudiness was gone, he focused on the source of the voice.

She was young, no more than a year or two older than him. She had long, black hair tied in a single braid, brown eyes, and the olive skin of a Mediterranean native. Billions of humans across space had that look, but it gave him a sudden nostalgia for Roma. Her face was gaunt, as though it had been weeks since she had a proper meal.

Kaeso’s voice came from his left. “About time you woke up, kid.”

Cordus could now turn his head without fire surging through his body. Kaeso sat on the floor next to him, dried blood crusting the right side of his face. There was a bloody gash above his right ear on his stubbly head. Despite his obvious pain, he gave Cordus a lopsided grin. For Kaeso, it was tantamount to a running embrace.

Cordus scanned the room. It was octagonal, with barred, open windows at head-height. Judging by the light outside, it was either dusk or morning. He couldn’t tell since he was unfamiliar with the directions on this world. The room was warm, so Cordus assumed dusk. In the meager light, he saw Blaesus, Dariya, and Daryush laying to Kaeso’s left. All three lay on their backs unconscious.

Seven men were on the other side of the room, all wearing the standard-issue gray under-tunics and patterned green fatigues of Roman Legionaries. Some lay on their sides, some sat with their backs against the wall. All were dirty, wounded, and half-starved. The ones who were awake watched Cordus with tired eyes.

The room reeked of unwashed bodies and vomit.

Next to him was the woman who spoke to him. Cordus thought at first she was another Legionary until he noticed her clothes: They were tattered and dirty, but in the style of a citizen.

Cordus tried to sit up. Pain shot through him again, but he clenched his teeth and sat up so his back was against the wall like Kaeso.

“Where are we?” he asked Kaeso.

“Remember the tower we passed when we entered Nascio?”

Cordus nodded. “What do they want with us?”

“I just woke up myself. Don’t even know how long we’ve been out.”

“You’ve been here a day,” the woman next to Cordus said. “No idea how long you were out before that. The fulgurators can keep you down for up to four days.”

Cordus eyed the woman. “Fulgura…?” He assumed she was referring to whatever the golems had used to knock him out. “What is your name, my lady?”

The woman gave him a tired laugh. “Such manners, for a simple merchant. I am Aquilina.”

Cordus turned to Kaeso, and he shrugged. “Tarpeius has bigger things to worry about now than paying us for our the insect repellant we delivered.”

Implicit in the shrug was,
We’re cargo haulers, kid…and no more.

Taking up the act, Cordus sighed. “So much for a quick payday. Where is Tarpeius?”

“Not here,” Kaeso said.
 

Cordus turned back to the woman. “How did you end up here?”

“Those scraps of vat flesh think I’m a Roman patrician,” Aquilina said, then gave Cordus an amused glance. “But I’m also a simple merchant.”

“She’s a godsdamned spy, is what she is,” a legionary growled. He was around Kaeso’s age with graying hair in the stubble on his head and face. His left forearm had a long cut that was sewn shut hastily with haphazard stitches. “She’s one of them Liberti
numina
everyone whispers about. Merchant, ha! Mound of pig
cac
, if you ask me. We was arresting her when the golems rebelled.”

Aquilina shook her head wearily. “I don’t know what else to tell these men, but I am no spy. Yes, I’m from Libertus, but I was delivering fertilizer. Just because I do well and dress well, the golems—and our esteemed fellow prisoners—think I’m something I’m not. They’re just upset and taking it out on me.”

The legionary started to rise. “You’re godsdamned right I’m upset! I lost good men—”

“Easy, friend,” Cordus said in a soothing tone as he rose to his feet. “The golems are the enemy. What is your name?”

The legionary glared at Aquilina, then shifted his eyes to Cordus. He exhaled sharply through his nose, then sat back down and leaned his head against the wall.

“Paulus Ulpius,” he said. “Centurion, 2
nd
Cohort Equitata Machina, 24
th
Legion.”

“I’m sorry for your losses, Centurion,” Cordus said, easing back down. “Are you and your men all that’s left of the 24
th
?”

“Aye,” Ulpius said, glancing at the six others nearby. They all looked defeated, demoralized, and ready to die. “Been six days since we was captured. Three more came in here with us. Golems crucified them, one every other day. If the pattern holds, they’ll take another one of us today.”

Dariya groaned next to Kaeso. Her eyes fluttered open, and she sucked in a ragged breath when the pain hit her. Kaeso put a reassuring hand on her shoulder as she awoke.
 

Cordus turned to Aquilina. “So we were hit with a…
fulgurator
…?”

“A gun that shoots lightning, but doesn’t kill,” she said. “Hurts like a bolt from Jupiter, though.”
 

Ulpius said, “The flamens gave it a fancy code name I don’t remember, but the men came up with fulgurator
,
a lightning gun. Shuts down your body, puts you into some kind of hibernation.”

Kaeso gave Cordus a meaningful look. “Seems the Romans have a new toy,” he murmured.
 

In the past, before Cordus fled Roma, any “new toy” came as a revelation from the Muses. Most often it came to the consul, but they also came to the Collegia Pontificis. The Muses would give their hosts the plans for some technology, and then the hosts would publicly proclaim they received a Missive of the Gods. The Missive would have the plans for the technology, and the host would pass the plans on to Roman flamens to build or develop.

But the Terran Muses—which only infected the consul, his family, and the Collegia Pontificis—were supposedly destroyed in Roma six years ago, an event that sparked the current civil war. Had Roman flamens used their own ingenuity to develop this gun…or do the Terran Muses still live?

Cordus doubted the Terran Muses lived. He queried his Muses constantly for over a year after the consul’s death, but they could not find the presence of their strain.

“Apollo’s cock,” Blaesus moaned as he woke to the fulgurator’s awful pain.
 

Dariya had already sat up and was whispering to Daryush as he also woke. Daryush grunted something that Dariya seemed to understand.

Ulpius stared at Daryush. “Is he dim or what?”

Dariya tried to stand but she couldn’t get her muscles to work. Instead, she snarled, “He has more brains than you, you Roman pi—!”

“No offense, lass,” Ulpius said, holding up his hands. “Just asking.”
 

Once Dariya calmed down, Kaeso explained to her, Daryush, and Blaesus what they knew so far.

“That treacherous bastard Tarpeius can rot in Bacchus’s soggy ass,” Blaesus grumbled, holding his head in both hands.

Ulpius grunted. “Spoken like a Roman. What’s your name, old man?”

Once Blaesus knew he had an audience, his pain seemed to ease. He drew his head up and sat straight.

“Gaius Octavius Blaesus.”

Cordus winced.
So much for keeping a low profile…

Ulpius’s eyes narrowed. “Octavius Blaesus. You were exiled from Roman territory if I remember right. I believe it’s the duty of every Roman soldier to arrest you if you set foot in the Republic again.”

Cordus tensed and felt Kaeso do the same.

“You know me?” Blaesus exclaimed. “How wonderful! Well I can assure you, Centurion, it was all a misunderstanding. Some Senators do not appreciate…”

Blaesus trailed off as the elevator rumbled behind the closed doors on the other side of the octagonal room. The Romans who’d been sleeping sat up, their eyes fearful.