Praetorian Series [4] All Roads Lead to Rome (45 page)

My eyes turned immediately to the orb on the ground, and there was Jacob, still in the same position as before.

“Is…” I started, “Is… he trapped in time?  Is that why the scene keeps repeating?”

“No,” Tim answered.  “What you are seeing is simply the few seconds around when he activated his orb.”

“I… see,” I said, understanding starting to set it.  “So there really is no hurry then, is there?  What’s about to happen to Jacob has already happened.  In another timeline.  If I save him, I’ll save him, but somewhere out there, he’s already been killed by that mob.”

Tim nodded.  “Most likely.  It does not matter if you leave now or in thirty years, you will always return to that point in time.  But take comfort in the fact that you can, in fact, still save your brother.”

“What about Remus?”  I asked.  “He has his own orb.  Why can’t he see this?”

“The orbs only operate independently when they are alone.  He also has the red orb.  Two actually.  When they are together, they do not work like this. It’s… a design flaw, one I did not anticipate.”

“You designed the orbs?”  I asked, the engineer in me suddenly very curious.

“No, but they were entrusted to me once, just as… just as I’d entrusted them to my sons.”

I frowned.  I’d known nothing of Romulus and Remus prior to my arrival in Ancient Rome, but I’d been well schooled in the lore ever since.  “So you really are their father?  Is Mars another name you go by?  Or… what was it?  Ares?”

He smiled.  “No.  I am no god.  But, yes, I am their father.  Legends, however, have a way of changing and adapting over time, and it seems the guise of Faustulus was doomed to become less interesting than it really was.”

“So that’s how we made another orb,” I whispered, beginning to understand how Jacob always felt when learning about and fitting in a new piece to the puzzle.  “We share the same bloodline.  We’re related.”

He sighed and leaned back.  “Maybe.  Utilizing the orb isn’t necessarily about blood, but DNA.  It has nothing to do with bloodlines, but genetic markers.  There are simply people who can use the orbs because of a certain bit inside them that allows them to.  It’s very rare.”

“How?  What kind of people have it?”

“I can’t possibly guess,” Tim replied with a shrug.  “I… no, I should not continue with this line of questioning.  It is too much information for you.  It may… impede future proceedings …”

“What are you talking about?  Who are you people?  Where do you come from?  What makes you… us, different from everybody else?”

“No!”  Tim bellowed, almost angrily.  “Enough.  Know your place.  You have but a bit of the genetics needed, but little else.  I need not tell you anything more.  Now, do you wish to aid your brother or not?”

“Of course.”

“Then go.  You do not need any further explanation.  Your instincts are already honed.  You know what to do.  Find your brother through the orb, then find me when you are with him.”

I didn’t even bother asking how the process could possibly work in reverse, with me traveling into the future instead of the past.  I simply stood and leaned to pick up my orb, trusting him implicitly.

“All right,” I said, my fingers brushing against the orb’s surface.  “I’m read….”

Before I could take it, Tim’s frail but surprisingly strong hand grasped my forearm. 

“But listen to me, young Hunter,” he said sternly and I turned to look at him.  “When Jacob returns, you must take the orb from him.  Bring John with you.  He will help.  You must tear that orb from Jacob’s grasp and pray that he is not too far gone.  I believe he is close, very close, but I believe he can still be saved.  I did not mention this before, but it will be very painful for him.  The separation.  He will go through a type of withdrawal no individual has ever gone through before.  It may leave him a shell of his former self.  It may break him completely.  I believe him to be strong, but he has often proved otherwise, but he is also unpredictable, and that may just save him.  Do what you must to break him of the orb’s influence.  He will fight it but you must fight harder.  All of you.”

I nodded.  “What about you?  Don’t you have a magical potion for him?”

“The quick answer is: no.  Had I access to my belongings seven hundred years ago or if Merlin would do us all a favor and show up, then, yes.  Unfortunately, you must do this on your own.  I will not stay when you return but I will be back once he is better.  I owe him a chat.”

“All right,” I said, pulling myself back up so I could run to the door.  I opened it and yelled, “John!”

He came running, but pulled up short when he saw me, totally confused.  “How did you get here?  You just disappeared back there!”

I rolled my eyes.  “I went back in time!  Into another dimension.  I don’t know, maybe both.  Who the fuck cares?  Let’s go get Jacob!”

“About goddamned time!”  He exclaimed as he bounced from foot to foot, ready to pounce on a bad guy, but then he stopped when nothing immediately happened, looking confused again.  “How exactly do we do that?”

I rolled my eyes again, grabbed his arm, and yanked him into the room.  John gave Tim a dirty look as I dragged him to my fallen orb, but I held onto his hand as I leaned down and picked it up.  I wasn’t following Tim’s specific instructions this time, but instinct told me I was doing the right thing.  I felt the orb in my hand, looked at Jacob’s tiny image in the orb, and said, “I’m coming big brother.  Just hang in there.”

I thought of how much I loved my stupid, idiotic brother, how much I looked up to him and how much I knew he respected me in return, how much of a sibling bond we’d always shared, and then with a discharge of electricity that frizzed my hair and a blue flash like a burst of lightening, so too came the pain, which was, like always, instantly gone.

“Yowza!”  John yelped.  “I forgot how much that hurts!”

I ignored him, brushing off the pain like it was nothing, and focused on finding Jacob upon the ground.  Almost instantly, I found his broken body that looked almost sickly it was so frail. I’d never seen him look so horrible before, and the sight of him in such a state nearly broke my heart.  But then he cocked his head to the side, his face looking as silly as it always did when he was confused, and he spoke one, single word.

“Artie?”

I smiled at him, fell to my knees beside him, threw my arms around his thin neck, and tried my hardest to squeeze him to death.  “My God, Jacob, I can’t believe we finally found you!”

“Found me?”  He said, his voice hoarse and pained.  “How are you even here?”

“That’s the power of time travel, baby,” John said from behind me, his voice silly.  “Now, do you mind if we get the hell out of here?  The local wildlife doesn’t seem too friendly.”

I barely paid him any attention as I snatched his dumb, stupid, beautiful hand, shifting my other hand so that I could take hold of Jacob’s orb and hold it in the crook of my arm.  But before I could take us home, Jacob placed his hand atop my own, the one that held my orb, and pressed it down against my thigh.

He looked at me, his eyes on the verge of tears.  “How, Artie?”

I kissed him on the cheek, pulled away, and grinned at him, realizing that if I was thankful for anything, anything at all, it was that I finally had the chance to leave someone with one of this group’s patented one liners. “Ready for a story?”

And then we were gone.

X

Withdrawal

July, 44 A.D.

Rome, Italy

Diana/Jacob Hunter

I approached the interrogation room slowly, just as I had three times a day for the past two weeks, dreading the ritual as I did every time.  Once beside the door, I hesitated, choosing to pace in front of it for a few minutes while I composed myself, also as I did every time.  It was the same every time.  I knew I wasn’t responsible for what had happened to him.  I hadn’t given him the orb, I hadn’t enticed him along his dark path, and I hadn’t been responsible for what had happened to Helena and their son, the catalyst for his mental breakdown.

But two weeks ago, I
had
been the one to rip the orb out of his thin, weak hands and escort them out of the room while John had held him down.  Tim had ordered me to do it the moment we’d returned, even though the next few hours would have been so much simpler had he simply let Jacob hang on to his blue orb for just a little while longer.  Worst of all, Jacob had seen Tim, who I assume Jacob had thought was actually Merlin, and the look of betrayal that had crossed his face was just another bit of heartbreak stacked on all the rest.

But I’d done what I’d been told to do, and Tim and I had carried our orbs out of the room and dumped them into Archer’s confused arms, ordering him to hide them as he always had.  Tim left not a moment later without another word or even a goodbye.  I’d watched him go as he’d melted into the darkness of our atrium, but when I was sure he was gone, I’d rushed back to the interrogation room.  Less than a minute had passed, but the room was no longer an interrogation chamber, but Jacob’s rehab clinic.

By the time I’d returned, the screams had already begun to make their way through the corridors that snaked around the central room.  They’d been guttural screams, primal, the sounds one would make if consciously feeling their body being torn to shreds, bit by painful bit, like an animal being devoured in the wild, watching it happen.  They’d come loud, long, and with little pause in between.  When I’d finally entered the room, I’d found John and Jeanne wrangling Jacob onto a bed that must have been brought in during the seconds I’d been gone, while James dutifully prepared a cornucopia of drugs to administer as soon as Jacob was steadied.  It hadn’t been easy, even with the combined and considerable strength of both John and Jeanne, but eventually James managed to stick Jacob in the arm, and he calmed down. 

But only long enough for the trio to strap Jacob down to a bed frame, pinning his arms, legs, head, and midsection to the wooden frame with cords and straps.  They’d just barely finished before Jacob was thrashing uncontrollably again, his shrieks of pain loud, uncontrollable, and persistent.  James didn’t know what to do.  He’d said Jacob should have been sedated for hours, which should have been more than enough time for him to work on Jacob’s broken leg and other injuries.  He’d been worried that additional doses would only complicate matters.  Yet still there was the leg to work on, so James did all he could while John and Jeanne pinned Jacob in place, doing their best to ignore the torment their friend was so clearly going through.

It was then that I’d noticed Helena kneeling in a corner, her hand permanently fixed against her mouth, her eyes wide and unblinking, taking in everything.  I’d ran to her side almost immediately, although I was still unsure which one of had us needed comforting more, because the arm she’d wrapped around me was just as tight and secure as the one I’d wrapped around her.

The next three hours had been long and tormenting.  Jacob’s screams had been relentless, never ending, and even though I couldn’t take my eyes off of him as James worked frantically to set his broken leg, I’d felt my brain turning to mush under the constant onslaught of relentless pandemonium.  James may have been used to this level of chaos, but I, even after everything I’d been through recently, was not.

Helena and I stayed the entire time, keeping out of the way while John, Jeanne, and James had the worst of it.  At some point early on, TJ had wandered his way into the room to help, but even with his help the four of them hadn’t been able to keep Jacob steady easily.  A number of times I saw one of those four close their eyes, grimace, and shake their heads to stay focused, and I was constantly worried one would let Jacob shift in the wrong moment, causing James to make a crucial mistake, but after three grueling hours, James had staggered away from the bed and gestured for everybody to follow.  All of us had left the room in a heap of bodies – although Jeanne had to practically carry Helena out.  We’d shut the door behind us and stumbled into the atrium where Jacob’s screams were barely audible.

James had done all he’d could do for Jacob’s leg, but still wasn’t sure he’d set it perfectly.  It had been smashed to pieces and James’ operating conditions hadn’t been ideal.  Jacob may have a limp for the rest of his life… if he ever recovered from his withdrawal.  Only time could cure addiction – although
cure
was probably the wrong word.  We simply had to wait with the hope that Jacob was strong enough to recover with minimal side effects.

More than two weeks had gone by without a moment of peace.  Jacob’s thrashing and screaming had persisted for days, embedding the once tranquil villa with a cloud of despair.  Not a meal had been consumed or blissful sleep found without the sounds of Jacob’s near constant torment seeping into our bones.  It had been a depressing few days, where those of us closest to Jacob fell deeper into despair and those who’d been frustrated or angry with him found sympathy.  Little was exchanged between any of us, Jacob’s tireless screams too pervasive to ignore.

James had done everything he could to keep Jacob’s internal system steady, introducing fluids, stimulants, and pain suppressants whenever seemed safe.  They’d rarely seemed to help but James had assured me that Jacob’s vitals usually steadied when outside care was administered.  It was still hard to accept, but we all knew that without James’ help, Jacob very likely would have died days ago.

The next eleven days had been better, when Jacob’s yells had diminished to simple moans and groans, accentuated only occasionally with a few yelps and screams.  He’d seemed healthier but he still hadn’t been able to keep his body still, and sleep had continued to elude him most of the day.  Only in the darkest hours of the night, when he was worn well beyond exhaustion, did his broken body and fractured mind allow him to sleep, but only for an hour or two, and then his discomfort would returned.

But the last few days had been even better.  The worst seemed far behind us finally.  Jacob had slept for twenty eight hours the previous day and had awoken without his face contorted in pain for the first time.  He still didn’t seem fully conscious, spending his time mumbling incoherently and occasionally grimacing or shouting from a sudden burst of pain.  It seemed almost harder to ignore him now than before.  He seemed so close to recovery but, in some ways, still so far.

These memories were still fresh in my mind, and replayed themselves every time I approached the door to check in on my brother.  Even now, as I finally stepped up to the peephole, I grew worried that he’d regressed, and a violent spike of pain would send him thrashing again, but when I peeked inside, I saw my brother sprawled out on his back, his hands and legs still bound uncomfortably, his face turned away from me.  His chest rose and fell with great heaves of air, as though he was recovering from another spontaneous bout of pain, but at least he was sleeping.

I frowned.  Normally he didn’t sleep at this time of the day.  Maybe that meant something.

I shifted my perspective a bit and looked to the left of the room, and saw Helena seated in a chair, her head propped against the wall, deep in sleep with a light blanket draped atop her body.  She’d barely left the room since Jacob had returned, choosing instead to stay with him whenever she could.  Meals had been brought to her, which she’d consumed sparingly, and she’d only left the room to bathe occasionally, relieve herself, or seek information about Agrippina, of which there was little.  All anyone knew was that a wedding rehearsal was planned for tomorrow afternoon, which would be the first opportunity anybody had to see the pair of tyrants since the initial announcement.

I sighed as I shifted my eyes back to Jacob, feeling horrible but knowing Helena had it even worse.  She’d been with Jacob for over half a decade, standing by his side through some of their worst moments.  There’d been strife between them, arguments, a diminishment of love for a time, but they were inseparable, two peas in a pod as John had said once.  The pain felt by one was shared equally with the other, and while Helena was handling it as well as anyone could, whatever magical serum that gave her such immense strength and vitality could only sustain her for so long.

This had to end soon.

I let the peephole cover slide shut, and pressed my forehead against the door.  I closed my eyes and felt exhaustion creep over me.  I wasn’t sure where it was coming from.  Physically, I felt fine, but my mind had suffered so much recently, and I knew as well as anyone how mental fatigue could render someone just as useless as the physical kind.

Footsteps fell beside me, quiet ones, barely audible over the subtle ambient noise around me, but still I heard them.  I was getting used to them.

John cleared his throat.  “Up for a walk?”

I pulled away from the door and looked at him.  He’d recovered from his sunburn and was, in fact, quite tan now, but while he’d kept his head shaved, he’d grown out his beard again, although he kept it neat.  He and Alex were practically twins now, except that Alex’s bald head remained fair and his beard bright red, as opposed to John with his darker features.

With small smile, I whispered, “Sure.”

***

It was a muggy day and the pavement was hot beneath my sandaled feet.  Sweat gleamed from the faces of nearly every individual we passed and I could feel it trickling down my own spine, threatening to grip hold of my light, loose fitting dress and cause it to cling unattractively to my back.  I didn’t care much.  It was a fate allotted to many women I’d already passed today, and John was already sweating buckets beside me.  Even the buildings of Ancient Rome seemed affected by the heat, their structures shimmering in a haze as every last bit of perspiration was yanked into the high noon sky.

It was nearly unbearable, but I’d rather be out here in the open air, fresh though it certainly was not, than back at the safe house watching Helena and Jacob languish together but with no understanding of the other’s sorrow.

There was little else to think about as John led me south along one of Rome’s many famous roads that weren’t all that famous where I came from.  Only Agrippina’s pending nuptials could draw my attention away from them, yet, I wasn’t sure what we were planning to do about it.  Nobody was.  It all seemed silly, really.  Any one of my friends could kill Agrippina the second she stepped out of her home without much effort.  Helena, Alex, and even Jacob – when he recovered – could probably even do it from the roof of our villa if they wanted to.  Any planned attack to thwart the wedding could happen with minimal effort.

But there was still Remus to consider.

No one knew what he was capable of.  Would a bullet even kill him?  It was possible he could even dodge one.  He was a nine foot tall god, or, at least, a nine foot tall superhuman capable of things we probably couldn’t even dream of.  Even Jeanne wouldn’t have much of a chance against him.

No, he wouldn’t have
any
chance against him.

There was also the point that we already had what we wanted.  We had Jacob, broken and battered though he may be, but he was safe and out of harm’s way.  There was still the question of the orbs, but I was growing less and less concerned about them.  For all Agrippina and Remus knew, we weren’t here and Jacob was still trapped in the past.  If we left right now, ran as far as we could, we could just live the rest of our lives happily.  With all this utter…
bullshit
, about alternate timelines, parallel realities, and multidimensional travel with no actual consequences, I just didn’t care anymore. My timeline would never change.  It would always be a war torn hellhole and there was nothing we could do in the past to fix it.  There were no consequences to time travel it seemed, and I was just fine with that.  If Agrippina and a reborn Remus wanted to rule the Roman Empire in this reality, I say let them.

“Oh, boy…”  John muttered suddenly from beside me as we continued our walk through a low lying residential area.

“What?” I asked, twisting my head to look at him.

He smiled and shook his head but didn’t look at me.  “You’re thinking about timelines, alternate dimensions, the possibility of fixing them, or the idea of doing nothing at all, heaping the whole universe’s responsibility upon your slender, cute shoulders.”

“I was not,” I countered with a bit of a pout, but then I lost it.  “Well, maybe a little, but not so melodramatically.  I already know we can’t fix them, and I couldn’t care less about the universe.  In light of everything we know, I don’t even think Jacob would feel responsible anymore.”

“
Pfft
,” John sputtered. “Yeah, right.  Do you even know Jacob?”

I frowned.  “Not really, actually.  I was just getting to know him when he went insane, remember?”

“Oh, right.  Sorry.”