Muses of Roma (Codex Antonius Book 1) (28 page)

Ocella paced on the other side of the room from Kaeso in the townhouse’s burned out gathering room. He tried to remind himself she indirectly killed Ancilia who were once good friends.

But all he could see was his beloved wife's sister. A woman he once loved himself. She was a link to his past before Umbra, a happier time that didn’t seem so then. Though Umbra had altered her facial features in subtle ways, there was no mistaking the woman he once knew so well. She still curled her fingers at her sides when she was anxious; she still chewed the inside of her lower lip before she said something she knew Kaeso wouldn't like.

He would not kill her.

“I would’ve done it, too,” Ocella said, referring to her Umbra mission to assassinate the Consular Heir. “It wouldn’t have been my first kill...but it would have been my first child. That didn't matter to me, though. I was a well-trained Ancile. I didn’t question orders. I had faith the Muses knew what was best for Libertus.”

Ocella smiled grimly. “But then Numerius Aurelius Scaurus helped change my mind. He headed the Praetorian Guard for twenty years. He retired ten years ago, but was still respected in Guard circles. Even the Consul invites him to dinner parties now and then. Or, he used to.”

“Scaurus is dead?”

Ocella nodded. “Cordus and I were in the safe room beneath his house. The Praetorians did it. I don't think they got anything out of him, because they never found us. At least I didn't think so at the time.”

Scaurus was the Praetorian Guard Prefect when Kaeso was in Roma. Kaeso never met the man, but he knew Scaurus was one of Umbra’s highest placed contacts. The information he funneled to Umbra prevented many Roman attacks on Libertus before they even hit the planning stages. Why would such a highly placed contact betray Umbra? Did his loyalties switch back to Roma? It happened from time to time, but Umbra always found out and eliminated the contact before he could give the Romans anything useful.

But Kaeso didn’t say any of this to Ocella, mostly out of old habits. Ancilia never talked about their work or contacts, even with other Ancilia.

“How did he persuade you to turn on Umbra?” Kaeso asked.

Ocella smiled and then surprised him by giving up her contacts easier than he. “Did you know Scaurus was an Umbra contact? Forty years in the Guard, twenty as the Prefect, and the Romans never suspected. He knew my mission because Umbra asked him to help me. He got me into the Praetorian Academy, and then a post in the Consular Palace.”

Ocella walked to a half-burned couch and sat down without wiping away the debris.

“Scaurus was a complex man,” she said. “He was also a Saturnist.”

Kaeso shook his head. “Praetorian. Umbra. Saturnist. Complex or confused?”

“Scaurus was anything but confused. His life's purpose was to stay close to the Consular Family and watch them. Saturnists have this theory—or prophecy, considering their religious devotion to it—that one day humanity will evolve to a point where the Muses could no longer control us. That human beings would one day control
them
. He watched the Consular Family for such a person, just as other Saturnists watch the infectees in the Collegia Pontificis. While still others watch Umbra Vessels. The Saturnists have watched infectees for a thousand years.”

Ocella looked up at him. “Scaurus believed Marcus Antonius Cordus was the first human with such an ability.”

“How did he know this?”

Ocella shrugged. “Scaurus knew the Consulars well. He knew how they acted, or rather, how the Muses inside them forced them to act. But Cordus was different.”

“How?”

“He had no interest in politics, for one. The Consulars—at least the Muse-infected—eat, drink, and sleep politics. It's in their Muse strain’s nature. Cordus also hated being treated like a god. That really got Scaurus’s attention, because the one thing the Consular’s love above politics is their godhood. Scaurus confirmed his suspicions through careful observation and secret talks with Cordus.”

Kaeso scratched his three-day growth of beard. “So Scaurus managed to persuade you to betray Umbra with that?”

“Of course not. He didn't come out and say “I’m a Saturnist and, oh, by the way, the Consular Heir is a one in a billion child.” He was more subtle than that.”

Ocella arose from the couch and paced the floor. “One day he brought me into the Consular Palace to meet the Family. They were like Umbra taught us: cold, distant, calculating. They were polite and they smiled when I bowed before them, but they treated me like a commodity they could buy or sell or kill should the fancy strike them.

“All of them except Cordus. He acted the same way as his family while he was with them. On his own, however, his eyes wandered and he looked bored. The Consulars never look bored. They either stand there like deactivated golems or they give orders. They don't fidget. They don't even laugh. But Cordus did all that. In other words, he acted like a human being.

“Scaurus introduced us during a private dinner one night. And by private, I mean over a hundred Senators and powerful patricians. Cordus sat at a table by himself reading a book when we approached. I tried to keep my emotional distance: I didn't want to know the boy I was supposed to kill. But he disarmed me with a simple question.”

When her pause continued, Kaeso asked, “What was the question?”

Ocella sighed, then turned her eyes to him. “'Will you protect me?'”

Kaeso held her gaze. She said, “I told him I was a Praetorian. It was my duty and honor to protect him. I gave him all the assurances a Praetorian would give her client. I played the part well.” Ocella smiled. “Then he laughed and said, “I meant, will you protect me from this dinner party?” He explained he wanted to talk about anything other than politics, and I had to talk to him so the sycophants at the party wouldn’t approach him. Those were his words.”

“Why didn't you kill him that night?” Kaeso asked. “You had an Umbra cloak. You could have finished your mission and slipped out.” Kaeso watched Ocella as she stared at the floor with a soft gaze. “He got to you, didn't he? After just one meeting.”

She turned away as if he'd accused her of something shameful. “He's a good boy. Brave, smart, kind. He has a great sense of humor. Yes, I'm fond of him. And that bastard Scaurus knew it would happen.”

“But your mission...”

“I told myself the timing wasn't right. That my escape plan wasn’t perfect. That I couldn't just slit the boy's throat in front of a hundred nobles and an army of Praetorians.”

“Yes, you could have,” Kaeso said. “Unless Umbra training has taken a complete turn since I left.”

“I know I could have completed the mission had I wanted to. But after meeting him...I didn't want to. I came up with all kinds of excuses, but my mission failed when Cordus asked me that first question.”

“One question made you give up Umbra?” Kaeso asked.

Ocella's face tightened. She continued pacing the room, debris crunching under her shoes.

“At another dinner party a few days later, the boy and I were talking about some gladiator match when Scaurus came over and said Cordus had a unique talent he wanted to show me. I turned to Cordus. The boy smiled, took my hands, and...”

Ocella shuddered. “Thoughts
exploded
from my implant. Memories that weren't mine. Memories of ancient Roma, when Marcus Antonius sacked Roma and deposed Octavian.
Only I saw things through the eyes of Marcus Antonius Primus.
”

Kaeso stared at Ocella. What she described was impossible. There was no known way to transfer another person's memories from one implant to another. Not even Vessels could send their memories to an implant.

At least, that's what Kaeso was always told.

“I know this sounds ludicrous,” Ocella said, “but it happened. In a flash, I saw the entire history of Roma from the time the Muses came to Marcus Antonius in Egypt to the second Cordus released my hands.”

“Are you sure it came from your implant? Perhaps the boy’s Muses—”

“It came from my implant,” Ocella said firmly. “You know that buzzing you get behind your ear when your implant receives orders from Libertus? That's what I felt with these memories. Only more powerful than anything I ever experienced.”

Kaeso still wondered if Cordus somehow used Ocella’s implant to manipulate her, but he decided to avoid that argument for now. “What did you do?”

“After I recovered my wits, I left the Consular Palace as fast as I could without looking suspicious. Scaurus tried to stop me, but I ignored him. I ran back to my Praetorian apartment at the base of the Capitoline. I took a long hot shower. I told myself my implant must have malfunctioned, because what I saw in those memories was too unbelievable. Because if those memories were true, all human history was a lie.

“An hour later, Scaurus, came to my apartment and offered to answer my questions. I still reeled from my experience. Everything was so vivid, like watching a video wall in my mind. I could use my implant to recall every memory Cordus gave me. Not even Umbra orders were so clear. It all opened my mind to the possibility these things were true. Without those memories, I would’ve killed Scaurus for being a double agent when he came to my apartment. Cordus’s ‘transfer,’ if you want to call it that, was just part of Scaurus’s plan to recruit me. He showed me copies of ancient documents on his com pad. He told me the originals were in a secret basement beneath his house, which I confirmed when Cordus and I fled there. He told me the Saturnist mission, how they sought a way to free humanity from the Muses.”

Ocella stared at her empty, soot-covered hands. “That’s when we came up with a plan to rescue Cordus. That’s when I decided to betray Umbra, so I could stay close to Cordus.”

Kaeso shook his head. “What is so awful about the Muses that made you turn away from everything you believed in? They've made Libertus prosperous and safe. They lifted Roma and humanity from a muscle-powered civilization to one that lives among the stars.”

“But it’s not real. We have all this technology and prosperity because of
them
. We did not discover it ourselves.”

Kaeso shrugged. “Well again, so what? I can live with the fact we got a little help from the Muses. You haven't given me any reason to fear them.”

“I thought the same way,” Ocella said. “I thought we should be thanking the Muses for what they did for us. Then Scaurus showed me ancient testimonies from infectees. When an infectee dies, whether it be from trauma or a disease or anything, the Muses die first, giving the infectee his mind back for only minutes before his death. Over the centuries, the Saturnists gathered these testimonies bit by bit and discovered what the Muses have planned for us. And it
is
something you should fear.”

Lepidus accepted the binoculars from Appius and trained them on the dark townhouse across the Tiber River at the base of the Aventine. From the Trastevere, he saw two figures standing in the townhouse’s gathering room, their heat signatures glowing in bright reds, oranges, and yellows.

“Are you sure they're not opium addicts?” Lepidus asked.

“No, Evocatus,” Appius said.

Lepidus frowned. The Borum Meats wagon was abandoned in the Murcia Tunnel under the Circus Maximus. Public lictors obtained street camera footage of all the vehicles that left the Tunnel minutes after the Borum wagon entered. The lictors were identifying every vehicle that left within thirty minutes of the wagon entering, but progress was slow.

But by the grace of the gods, a lone street lictor on the Aventine noticed a red van stop two blocks from the townhouse Lepidus watched. A woman matching Gaia Julius's description had exited the van, along with two men and a boy, and then made their way down to the riverfront. The lictor notified his commander, who notified Lepidus.

And here we are,
Lepidus thought.

“It couldn't hurt to question them, whoever they are,” Appius said.

“I don't want to send in a Praetorian squad just to round up drug addicts,” Lepidus said. “We might tip off Julius if she's hiding nearby. Disguise your men as beggars and have them scout the area.”

“Yes, sir,” Appius said. He took out his com pad, but it chimed before he could place his orders. Appius listened for several moments, then ended the call.

“There’s something else, sir.”

Lepidus continued watching the two figures. “What?”

“Terra Way Station Control reports a ship of Liberti manufacture docked early this morning, but their credentials say they’re a Llahsa ship.”

“Liberti exports cargo ships to all Lost Worlds. So?”

“The ship is eighty years old, yet its manifest records only go back twenty. Under normal protocols, the Way Station checks back ten years. With wartime protocols, however, they check thirty. They thought we should know this ship is missing its first ten years.”

Lost World centuriae were notoriously poor record keepers, unlike professional and meticulous Roman centuriae. They traded, sold, and gambled away their ships all the time, usually without giving the new owner past manifests. This ship was likely one of those.

Or it could be Ocella's escape.

“Tell Way Station Control to send crew profiles and to maintain a discrete surveillance on the ship. Have any crew members left?”

“Two.”

“Get their pictures and give them to your recon team. Wouldn't it be interesting if they were in that house?”

Appius smiled. “Yes, sir.”

“Oh, any word from Lord Admiral Cocceius?”

Appius shook his head. “The courier ship should have arrived at the siege fleet four hours ago. Won’t be long now.”

“Good. Get up there now. Fortuna be with you.”

“And you, Evocatus.” Appius took out his com pad again and relayed Lepidus's instructions to his recon team as he strode toward the waiting flyer.

Lepidus brought the binoculars up to his eyes again and watched the two figures in the house. His job was about paying attention to the feelings the gods gave him. He had no evidence Gaia Julius was in that house across the river. Nothing proved the Llahsa ship docked at the Way Station was there to pick up Ocella.