Muses of Terra (Codex Antonius Book 2) (3 page)

“Found it!” Varo exclaimed. “Sending the coordinates to your tabulari, Lucia.”

Ocella allowed herself a brief smile. Even Lucia grinned as she redirected the ship toward Varo’s coordinates.

For six years, the Saturnists searched for the hidden way line Kaeso saw in the Menota archive vaults before the Romans destroyed them. Six years of month-long missions piloting through planetary rubble, comets, and ice, looking for the talaria particles that identified way lines. They had scanned an enormous amount of space around Menota, probably the most detailed scan of a solar system in human history. Most system scans stopped with the planets and in-system asteroid belts. Nobody paid attention to outer debris clouds because they were usually so hard to navigate and far from a convenient way line.

But according to Kaeso's data, an unknown way line existed out here. A way line that other Muse strains could use to invade human space from anywhere in the universe. It had to be found and monitored to stop a Muse invasion.
 

Ocella tried not to think about what they’d do if the other strains had
quantum
way line engines like what Umbra installed on Kaeso’s
Caduceus
, before it was renamed
Vacuna
. Every speck of matter in the universe had a quantum connection. Umbra and the Liberti Muses had discovered a way to open way lines and travel those connections. The Liberti Muses had said it was new technology not known to other strains. Ocella prayed that was so.

Ocella could see little more than stars and shadows outside the window, so she monitored the proximity displays on her command tabulari. Varo marked the potential way line’s location with a green circle on the displays. They were less than a thousand miles from it.
 

Lucia eased the ship around asteroids and comets the size of small moons, along with all the ‘smaller’ chunks of rock and ice—the width of five-story buildings—that could destroy the ship. It was why they flew what was essentially a four-man shuttle packed with engines modified for speed and maneuverability. The debris cloud would pummel anything bigger.

Lucia passed beneath a dead comet, emerged on the other side, and found the way line signal directly ahead. The talaria readings showed a stable way line. Way line discoveries were rare during the last fifty years. Most explorers believed all the way lines available to humanity had been discovered, and that humanity was now limited to the systems within its way line network. The last way line discovered was twenty years ago, and it went to a binary star system with no planets. Had a government sanctioned Ocella’s mission, she and her crew would have returned to triumphs.

As Saturnists, however, this way line was one more secret they needed to keep.
 

“Prepare for delta sleep,” Ocella said. “Varo, proceed with the sacrifice.”

Behind her, Varo tore open a pack of freeze-dried falcon livers and dumped the contents into a small clay bowl. Ocella and Lucia closed their eyes.

“Oh, Jupiter Optimus Maximus,” Varo prayed aloud as he crushed the livers into powder with a stone masher, “grant us your permission to travel through your realm. Accept this offering from a beast of flight. If it pleases you, grant us safe journey through your way lines so we may arrive at…”
 

Varo paused. At this point in the prayer, delta sleep officers said the name of the destination system. Though Ocella planned to take the way line if found, it was only now the thought sunk in:
we have no idea
where
it will take us
. It was a thought both thrilling and frightening.
 

“…so we may arrive at our destination,” Varo finished. She heard the frown in his voice. ‘Destination’ was a vague term, and vague terms were never advisable when praying to the gods, who could interpret those terms in whatever way they pleased.
 

Despite her opinion that way line sacrifices were a quaint tradition at best, she added her own silent prayer.
So we may arrive at our destination
sane and alive
.
 

She heard sparks as Varo used a small torch to ignite the powdered falcon livers, and then she smelled smoke as the livers disintegrated. Varo muttered a few more words in ancient Aramaic, the language of his Hebrew ancestors. It had been a dead language for 700 years since Roma atomized the entire Terran Palestinian region after a bloody revolt. Ocella knew a bit from her Umbra days when she and other Ancilia used it to communicate in situations where they might be overheard.

“Blessed are you, Adonai, who hears our prayer.”

The sacrifice complete, Ocella enabled the delta headrest on her command couch, as did Lucia and Varo. The delta device glowed green, indicating activation.

“Thirty seconds to way line,” Varo announced. “Delta sleep and crew couches activated. Transferring delta control to your tabulari, Centuriae.”

Ocella’s tabulari showed all three couches with a green outline.

Lucia set the ship on a heading into the way line entry point identified by the talaria particle sensors. “Delta pilot engaged,” Lucia said. “Twenty seconds to way line entry.” She leaned her head back into her couch.
 

“Initiating delta sleep on my mark,” Ocella said. Then she turned to Lucia with a smile. “Let’s make history.”

Lucia rolled her eyes. “Let’s pray we’re around to see it.”

Ocella shook her head, then turned back to the delta controls. “Mark,” she said, then engaged the delta sleep for her crew.

Lucia’s eyes closed, and her body sank further into her couch as all her muscles relaxed. Ocella watched the delta display on her tabulari to verify that the outlines of both Lucia and Varo turned yellow.
 

Satisfied, she watched the countdown to way line entry. Fifteen seconds. Her finger hovered over the control that would engage her delta sleep. She had taken on Kaeso’s habit of manually initiating delta sleep rather than letting the ship do it. It comforted her to maintain some control over a means of travel that was largely in the hands of the gods.

 
At three seconds, Ocella tapped the delta control for her couch…

…and found her gaze on the command deck’s dark ceiling. She blinked, raised her head, and scanned her tabulari. Five seconds had passed since she tapped her delta control. She checked her proximity display. They now orbited a planet and no system debris floated around them.

“Ship integrity stable,” Lucia said, running through her post-way line checklist. “Internal systems normal. Way line jump confirmed.”

“Where are we, Varo?” Ocella asked.

Varo tapped at his tabulari. “Orbiting a rocky planet approximately 1.3 T in size and mass. Minimal atmosphere—90% carbon dioxide with trace amounts of nitrogen, oxygen, and water vapor. No moons orbiting the…wait, one asteroid….”

When he said no more, Ocella said, “Varo?”

“Well it’s not an asteroid, Centuriae. Whatever it is, it’s in a stationary point above the planet’s equator. It’s 320,000 miles from us at heading eight nine point one. Thirteen miles long.” He paused. “Amazing…”

“Focus, Varo. Just tell me what you see.”

“Sorry, Centuriae. External composition analysis is saying ‘unknown’. It’s the oddest shape…like a tower with spikes.”

Electricity tingled through Ocella’s body, but she asked calmly, “Any power or heat coming from it?”

“Nothing. It’s as cold as the space around it.”

“The planet?”

Varo paused. “Nothing on the hemisphere below us, but we’ll have to do an orbit before I can say what’s on the other side.”

“Interesting,” Lucia muttered, staring at her tabulari.

“What’s interesting, pilot?”

“It’s not moving relative to the planet, or even rotating. If it has no power, how does it stay in a single point in space without even a wobble?”

Every artificial satellite had some power source to keep it in a stable orbit, or else it eventually crashed into the planet or flew off into space. What kept this object in place if it didn’t have a power source?

“Varo, can you get any internal scans?”

“Not from this range. We’ll need to get within 10,000 miles.”

Ocella bit her lip. Protocols for first-time jumps through new way lines always included procedures for contact with intelligent alien life. They were protocols that had never been used throughout human history, though Ocella knew from the Muse archives, and Cordus, that the Muses had infected dozens of alien races over millions of years. And those were just the Muses that found humanity. Kaeso said the Liberti Muses warned of more strains beyond the hidden Menota way line. Had a Muse-infected alien race built the object?
 

She turned to Lucia. “What do you think, pilot?”

Lucia raised an eyebrow. “You’re the Centuriae, why do you need my permission?”

“I’m not asking for your permission, I’m asking for your opinion. Do you think we should get closer to this thing?”

Lucia looked back at the object through her pilot-side window. “Kaeso would spend hours planning every possible scenario before taking his crew into an unknown situation like this.”

Ocella pressed her lips together. Kaeso was an Ancile once, too, so Lucia was right. It just annoyed her that she’d bring up Kaeso now.

Lucia turned back to Ocella with a grin. “Me, I like charging into a dark room without knowing what’s inside. More fun that way.” Lucia regarded her a moment. “So who are you going to be: a cautious Ancile or a reckless barbarian?”

“I vote barbarian,” Varo said from behind them.
 

Ocella smiled. She was also excited to discover an object that was obviously built by intelligent aliens. It was the first such object humans had discovered in the 600 years they’d been traveling the interstellar way lines. Varo and Lucia’s excitement only added to her own.
 

But this thing was on the other side of a way line the Muse archive said led to Muse-controlled star systems. Her mission was to find the Menota way line, jump through it, and then begin preliminary surveys on the other side. Detailed surveys would take months and multiple missions, but her preliminaries would help plot future forays. Gaia Julius gave her strict orders to avoid contact with any possible Muse-controlled species. What if this thing turned out to be hostile? What if it “awakened” while they explored it?

Caution was drilled into Umbra Ancilia during their training.
Never undertake a mission without planning your reaction to every possible scenario.
That dictum had saved her life many times. Sometimes a situation came up that called for improvisation. Umbra recognized this reality and trained its Ancilia accordingly, but it was for situations where orders were unclear or non-existent.
 

Gaia Julius’s orders were clear.
 

 
Ocella ground her teeth. If they didn’t investigate this thing now, someone else would have to do it later. There would be just as much danger for them as for Ocella and her crew now. The Menota way line was so guarded by debris that no ship bigger than Ocella’s could enter the way line. Investigating the object with a larger, better armed ship was just not possible.

I’m not an Ancile anymore,
Ocella thought.
That ended when they tried to kill me six years ago.

“Take us within scanning range,” Ocella ordered Lucia. “But be ready to take us back through the way line if this thing wakes up. Varo, I know the delta systems suck a lot of power, but keep them online for now. We’ll need them if we have to retreat.”

“Yes, Centuriae,” Varo said.

“Setting course for the object,” Lucia said.

Ocella’s body pressed into her couch. The shuttle’s inertia cancellers were weak so as to make room for the speedier engines, but they were better than no cancellers. It took them fifteen seconds to reach optimal survey range. Ocella looked through her command window and exhaled. Even from this distance, the object was massive. Varo was right; it looked like an upside-down tower with spikes along its entire length, almost thirteen miles from tip to tip. Its black surface was bumpy and amorphous, but smooth and it reflected the planet’s light like a dark mirror.

“We’re within 10,000 miles,” Lucia announced.

“Beginning scans,” Varo said. After a few seconds, he gave a quiet whistle. “Take a closer look at the surface. I’m sending them to your panels.”

Ocella looked down at Varo’s detailed scans. When Varo added a hydrogen filter, myriad cracks appeared across the object. But they weren’t cracks.

“Ice?” Ocella said.
 

“Yes, but I imagine that ice turns to water when this thing powers up.”

“Like veins?” Lucia said. “It’s all under the surface.”

“Exactly! I bet those ‘veins’ send water and fuel all over the object. Amazing! But here’s the best part—its surface isn’t rock. It’s some kind of organic shell.”

“This thing is alive?” Ocella asked.

“No, it’s frozen solid, but the surface is a chitinous compound, like an insect exoskeleton. Unbelievable…”

 
Lucia snorted. “So it’s a giant, tower-shaped bug.”

“Or an object built by bugs,” Varo said. “Can you imagine?”

“We don’t know what it’s made of or who made it,” Ocella said. “Just because its shell looks like an insect exoskeleton, doesn’t mean its builders were insects. Our ship is made of metal, but we’re not.”

“I haven’t been tutored like that since I was eight,” Lucia muttered.

Ocella chose to ignore her.
That didn’t last long…

A flash of white light filled the cockpit. Ocella gasped and shut her eyes. Lucia cursed, and Varo grunted as if punched. The ship’s window filters engaged to dampen the light, but Ocella still blinked to get the starbursts to recede from her vision. She checked her tabulari. All of the screens had turned to multi-colored static.

“Report!” Ocella cried.

“All my panels are scrambled,” Lucia said. “Maneuvering controls not responding.”