Muses of Roma (Codex Antonius Book 1) (22 page)

“You don’t believe me, do you?” Nestor said.

“It’s impossible,” Kaeso said. “The Muses would know if there was another strain on Terra. Umbra would know.”

Nestor shook his head. “Centuriae, of course the Muses know. Of course Umbra knows. How could they not? Why do you think a Vessel is forbidden to land on Terra? Because the Roman Muse strain would immediately detect them.”

Kaeso swallowed. It was true, Vessels were forbidden to land on Terra. Umbra said Vessels were too valuable, that it would be a disaster if they fell into Roman hands. Kaeso had accepted the Umbra explanation without question.

Or maybe his implant
prevented
him questioning it…

“Why then?” Kaeso said. “If what you say is true, why would the Liberti Muses want to fight the Terran Muses? If they’re the same virus—”

“They’re the same virus, but different strains,” Nestor said. “The Liberti strain is different from the Terran strain. They fight each other for the same reason humans fight each other. Aggressiveness is inherent to all intelligent species.”

When Kaeso stayed silent, Nestor continued. “Over the centuries, we’ve learned the two strains have different ‘personalities,’ if you will. The Liberti strain prefers working behind the scenes, secretly moving events to their liking. It makes them feel safer. Whereas the Roman strain prefers hosts that are worshiped like gods. That's why only the Consular Family and the Collegia Pontificis are infected.”

Blaesus leaned forward. “So it's these Muses that give the Consul and the Collegia the technology they pass on, as if it came from the gods?”

Nestor nodded. “It has been that way since Marcus Antonius deposed Octavian Caesar.”

“Antonius was infected?” Blaesus asked. He ran a hand through his thinning white hair. “How did this all happen?”

“We don't know for sure,” Nestor said, “but Saturnist legend says Antonius was infected while in Egypt during the Second Triumvirate years.”

“But
how
was he infected?” Blaesus asked.

“That is lost to history,” Nestor said. “As every human knows, Antonius returned to Roma after a decade in Egypt, his legions armed with the first crude muskets and cannons. He claimed he was the Voice of the Gods, who gave him this wondrous technology to bring Roma into a permanent Golden Age.”

Kaeso glanced at Lucia, who looked like someone whose entire faith was crumbling before her eyes. Blaesus was interested, but he also seemed uncomfortable, even for a self-proclaimed agnostic. Kaeso could not blame them. Everything they'd been taught their whole lives—things
all
Romans were taught—was turning out to be a lie.

Kaeso's stomach leaped. “That is the secret,” he said, without realizing he spoke aloud. Everyone turned to him. “When the Navigator first explained this mission, he said the Consular Heir had a secret that could bring down the Republic. If that's the secret, that the ‘Voices of the Gods’ are an alien virus, then it would cause complete chaos in the Republic.”

Blaesus nodded grimly. “Say what you want about the Republic, but it’s a stable institution that has lasted over fifteen hundred years. If Roma crumbles...well, a third of humanity would dissolve into bloody anarchy. And not just in Roma. Most worlds worship some gods of the Roman Pantheon, even the Zhonguo. This revelation would touch every human being, and not in a good way.”

“But humanity would be free to worship the
real
gods,” Nestor said. “Yes, the Muses have given us prosperity, but what if they go silent and stop giving us their technology? What if they do what every other deadly virus does and begin killing people? Do you think we could stop a
sentient
virus from doing what it wants to us?”

“You would reveal this horrible secret despite the cost in lives?”

“Of course,” Nestor said. “Because the only way humanity will be free is if we stand on our own, without these aliens. Maybe then we will rediscover the
true
gods of the Pantheon, not these viral pretenders.”

“Who's to say these ‘viral pretenders,’ as you call them, were not the inspiration behind the gods we worshiped?” Blaesus asked. “Who's to say the ‘gods’ were not always the Muses?”

Nestor shook his head vehemently. “No, the gods exist. This virus took them away from us by pretending to be gods.”

Lucia muttered into her hands, “This is insane.”

Kaeso glanced at Daryush, who stared out at the corridor, as if checking on Dariya just down the hall.

“Nestor,” Kaeso said, interrupting the argument with Blaesus. “You haven't told us what
you
want, and what you’re doing on this ship.”

Nestor said, “The Muses took the true gods from humanity. They made us turn to false gods like the Consul and his dogs in the Collegia Pontificis. Worlds who worship the Pantheon still see the Consul and Collegia as authoritative voices in religious doctrine, even if they have no wish to be part of the Republic. Saturnists want to free humanity from Muse domination, to return us to the natural order of things. Where humanity makes its own choices, without interference from these aliens who call themselves 'gods.'”

Nestor turned his brown eyes on Kaeso. “My people have been hunted since the days of Antonius. We've been called many names over the centuries, but Saturnist is our most recent. We are wanderers. We travel the way lines searching for a cure to this virus that enslaves humanity. That is our mandate from the true gods of the Pantheon.” Then he grinned. “For me personally, I signed on to your ship because I assumed your, ah, business would take me to some interesting corners of the universe. Corners that might have a cure. Turns out I was right.”

“So you want us to hand the boy over to you?” Kaeso said. “What good would that do us?”

“For one,” Nestor said, “an alien virus does not control me. Second, a Vessel of one strain does not up and move to a world infected with another strain. It has never happened. The strains hate each other. That is why this boy must be special. It suggests one of two things: the boy is not a Muse infectee, which seems impossible since he’s the Consular Heir, or the boy can somehow
overrule
the virus within him. Which suggests—”

“The boy himself may be the cure,” Kaeso finished for Nestor.

The recent actions of both Roma and Umbra now made perfect sense. Now Kaeso could see why Roma desperately wanted the boy back. And Umbra would do anything to get their hands on a way to control the Consul and the Collegia, not to mention hide any “cure” for the Liberti Muses. Kaeso’s implant ached with the knowledge and thoughts he was having.
Sedition, Ancile. That’s what you’re thinking, and that’s what your implant hates. You know how Umbra repays sedition.

“It's a theory,” Nestor said, leaning back in his chair, “but it makes the most sense given the information we have.”

Blaesus said, “If you can use the boy to kill these alien viruses, how would it affect their hosts?”

Daryush raised his eyebrows and turned to Nestor expectantly.

Nestor shook his head. “I don’t know. The Vessels could gain control over the Muses within them, or the Vessels might die as the Muses die. The Muses are so integrated with their hosts that any attempt to remove them might prove fatal to the host.”

Daryush groaned.

“Fine, you want him because everybody else does,” Kaeso said. “Again, how does that help us? And by 'us,' I mean my crew who has not lied to me about their identities.”

Nestor laughed. “You're one to talk, Centuriae. But to answer your question, the Saturnists can protect you. How long do you think you'd last on your own with both Praetorians and Umbra chasing you?”

We’d live longer lives staying right here,
Kaeso thought. But neither was he eager to jump into the arms of a third group that he thought just a few minutes ago was made up of crackpots at best, seditionists at worst.

“We've become good at protecting ourselves,” Nestor went on. “We have colonies in the Lost Worlds and in Roman space. We've even hid from Umbra, which is no small feat.”

“So you can protect us,” Kaeso said. “What else?”

“My, you are greedy, Centuriae.”

“Nestor, you've been a part of this crew for two years. Aren't you the least bit concerned for Dariya?”

Nestor's eyes softened, and for the first time since he revealed what he was, he turned away from Kaeso. “Of course I'm concerned,” he said. “This crew is family to me just as they are to you.” He looked back. “That is why you must give the boy to the Saturnists. If you give him to Umbra, they will hide him in a hole so deep he’ll never be found. Then they will kill you. You know this.”

“Enough,” Lucia said, staring at Nestor. “The things you're saying... What proof do you have? How can we believe anything you say?” She looked at Kaeso. “Either of you?”

Kaeso realized how hard this must be for his crew to accept. He was used to outlandish stories, since he'd seen and done outlandish things with Umbra. It was easier for him to accept the plausibility of Nestor's stories. Daryush wasn't Roman, so these revelations did not seem to bother him, except where it concerned Dariya. For Lucia and Blaesus, however, Nestor’s allegations struck at their identity.

Nestor regarded her sympathetically. “I know this is all hard to take, and there's nothing I can say that will make you believe me. If anything, you should trust the fact that Kaeso can corroborate much of my story.”

Kaeso shook his head. “Much of what you just said is news to me, as well. How do I know you're not a Roman agent? An Umbra Ancile? A freelancer for the Zhonguo? You could be anybody, Nestor Samaras. If that's your real name.”

Nestor smiled sadly. “It is not the name I was born with, but it is my name for now.”

“I agree with Lucia,” Blaesus said. “How can we trust you both now? Seems I don't know either of you.”

Kaeso wanted to protest that the implant, and the threat of immediate death to anyone who learned about Umbra, always prevented him from revealing his past. But he knew mere words could not gain back trust. He spent the last six years building that trust with his crew. He had just destroyed it in the last six days.

Nestor stared at his hands. His eyes suggested he struggled with the same dilemma as Kaeso. Kaeso didn't know if he believed Nestor's story, but he would have believed anything said by the Nestor he knew fifteen minutes ago.

“Remember last year,” Kaeso said, breaking the silence, “that courier job for Salisius?”

Nestor, Lucia, and Blaesus looked at each other and then at Kaeso.

It was supposed to be simple job: pick up a small package of
kriat
tusk powder from Salisius's covert lab in the mountains of a moon orbiting the Lost World of Titanus, then transport it to a Roman patrician vacationing on a beach on Titanus.
Kriat
tusk powder was illegal on Titanus due to its narcotic effects, so Salisius couldn't very well mail it to the patrician.

There were no landing sites near the lab, so Kaeso landed
Caduceus
at the foot of the mountain nearby. Lucia volunteered for the hike up the mountain path to Salisius's lab, and Nestor offered to go with her. On the way Lucia broke her leg in a fall off a ledge, where she caught a branch and hung on for her life. Below her was a hundred foot drop where she would have died if she let go.

“Do you remember what Nestor did?” Kaeso asked Lucia.

She nodded.

“He climbed down that rocky hill without a rope and pulled you off that ledge,” Kaeso said. “Blaesus, remember two years ago when you caught the furies pox on Concentus?”

Blaesus paled. “How could I forget?”

“Nestor stayed in the quarantine zone with you on the planet until you recovered.”

“Where,” Blaesus said, grinning at Nestor, “he caught the pox himself. I returned the favor by entertaining him while he recovered.”

“I would’ve recovered much faster if not for your polemics on the virtues of Republican rule,” Nestor said, smiling back at Blaesus.

“My point,” Kaeso said, “is that we
do
know each other. Nestor has had ample opportunity to cause us harm, through not only his actions but inactions too. But as long as I've known him, he's only risked his life for us all. He didn't have to risk death to climb down that hill and pull you up, Lucia.”

“I ordered him not to,” Lucia said quietly. “Just shows he doesn't know how to take orders.” A small grin tugged at the corner of her mouth.

“And he didn't have to listen to your complaining, Blaesus,” Kaeso said.

“I was a model patient,” Blaesus said, his chin up. Then he shrugged and said, “I
may
have uttered a mild criticism here and there, but I was very brave overall.” When Nestor snorted, Blaesus frowned. “I had black pustules covering my entire body for a week. Let that happen to you, Centuriae, and see how well you stay calm.”

Nestor said, “I appreciate what you’re doing, Centuriae. What you said of me can also be said of you. You've risked life and pain for us as well.” Nestor looked from Daryush to Blaesus to Lucia. “We all have secrets, but that does not change who we are. My secrets have
never
prevented me from doing my duties as a member of this crew. It won't now. All I’m giving you now are options.”

Blaesus sighed, and looked from Daryush to Lucia. Daryush simply shrugged, while Lucia rolled her eyes.

“So what do we do?” she asked.

Tension seemed to leave the room, and the crew turned to Kaeso as if he was about to brief them on another job. It was the happiest feeling he’d had in a long time.

Don’t begin to consider staying, you fool. You’re not a centuriae.

A shadow fell over Kaeso’s heart just as he was getting used to connecting with his crew again. Umbra was where he belonged. Umbra was what he was good at.
You’ll get these people killed if you keep leading them.

Lucia, Blaesus, Daryush, and even Nestor turned to him expectantly, waiting for his orders. Their expressions said they still trusted him to get them through anything.

What will happen when I abandon them?