Muses of Roma (Codex Antonius Book 1) (40 page)

No sooner had Lepidus reached his shuttle than his systems detected missile launches from the Consul's flagship.

Right on time
.
At least there is
some
honesty in the man.

He sat in the pilot's seat, not bothering to remove his armored EVA suit. He'd only removed his helmet so he could see the controls better. He powered up the shuttle and set a course for the Roman flagship. It would take three hours to reach the flagship, and he would safely pass the missiles minutes before they impacted the planet's surface.

It was three hours to think.

He did not feel the way he thought a man with a destroyed faith would feel. He mind was detached, as if he watched his limbs perform tasks he did not remember directing them to do. He had killed his wife based on the tantrum of a young Consul who did not get the easy victory he had wanted. His own brother had lied to him. And yet he did not feel any emotion knowing all this, certainly nothing like he felt hours after the decimations. Should he not feel something? Anger? Resentment?

The only feeling he could identify was that something had broken in him. He wondered if his mind and soul would ever heal.

Perhaps these Muses are creatures of the gods, the faithful part of his mind pleaded.
They
are the true conduits. They are blessings given by the gods to the Consul and the Collegia.

The faithless part of his mind ignored these excuses. The Consul and the Collegia lied to him. They did not hear the gods.

The gods do not speak through the Consul or the Collegia. But that does not mean they don't exist.

The com chimed. It was the flagship. He tapped the receive key on his console. The Consul's face materialized on the screen.

“Did you rescue my son?”

“No, my lord. The Liberti overcame me and my apprentice. Appius is dead. The Liberti will likely escape to their ship before the antimatter bombs hit.”

The Consul nodded. “Unfortunate.” Lepidus didn’t know if the Consul referred to the death of his son, to Appius, or to the mission’s failure. “No matter. Our missiles will destroy any lies the Menotans created to sow doubt in the Republic.”

“Yes, my lord.”

The Consul stared at him. “What did you find there, Lepidus? I see...confusion in your eyes.”

“This is the first mission I've failed in a long time, my lord. I regret not rescuing the Consular Heir. And I was fond of my apprentice.”

The Consul regarded him several more heartbeats, then smiled. “Your service to me and to the Republic is invaluable. You did well in finding my son. Do not be troubled that you could not save him.”

“Yes, my lord. And the Liberti fleet?”

The Consul's face twitched, and his eyes took on a savage glint. “We have them on the run, Lepidus. Once you dock, we will continue to pursue them all the way back to their homeworld.”

“How many ships do we have for the pursuit, my lord?”

“Only the flagship is unscathed,” the Consul said. “We have more than enough firepower to crush the remnants of their fleet.”

Lepidus paused.
One flagship assaulting the rest of the Liberti fleet?
Even their “remnants” would have no trouble fending off a single flagship, especially after it had sent half its missiles into Menota. Lepidus searched the Consul's eyes and confirmed that everything Cordus said was true. The Muses inside the Consul could not let the Liberti strain live, even if such an attack was suicidal. The Consul’s madness would take Lepidus with him.

Calculations and emotions sped through Lepidus's mind in an instant, and he arrived at a decision he hoped would bring him peace.

“My lord, I saw the lies the Menotans created. They would be convincing to people whose faith was not strong.”

The Consul waved his hand. “Yes, the people can be weak. Our missiles will destroy those lies in five minutes. Then we will destroy the Liberti fleet.”

“It's just that the Liberti...and your son...were at a control station before they escaped. I believe they were uploading those lies to their ship. If the lies should spread...”

Lepidus watched the Consul's face go from an eagerness for the hunt to a slack blankness, as if he were in a trance. Then he blinked, and his eyes turned cold and calculating.

“We will follow the Liberti fleet and intercept them before they reach the way line,” the Consul said. “Then we will wait for
Caduceus
and destroy them when they leave the planet. I have it on good authority that their magical new way line engines were damaged during their trip here. They will not leave the system anytime soon.”

“Yes, my lord. But I overheard the Liberti saying they’d hide in Menota’s rings. It could take days to find them, which would give them time to repair their engines. If you wish to stop them now, you must do so as soon as they leave the atmosphere.”

“If the Liberti fleet escapes—”

“Forgive me for interrupting, my lord,” Lepidus said. The Consul's eyes hardened. “If your son gets away with the lies he has gathered from Menota, he will sow doubt among our people. Not all Romans would believe, but enough will that we might have another Kaldethian-style rebellion. Perhaps on Terra this time.”

The Consul's face went slack again, the look of a slave receiving orders from his master. Contempt for this man roiled in Lepidus, and it took all his will to keep calm and subservient.

Finally the Consul said, “We are setting a course to intercept my son. Dock with the flagship when you catch up.”

The Consul's face winked out on the display. Lepidus set a course for the flagship.

Kaeso limped most of the way up the stairs and through the vaults, and even made it to the theater lobby before his leg gave out in a blast of pain that almost made him vomit in his helmet. From the lobby on, Lucia and Cordus helped him walk and stumble to
Caduceus
.

Nestor had already lowered the cargo ramp, and Daryush had started the ion engines. The ship was ready for takeoff when Kaeso, Lucia, and Cordus shuffled into Cargo One. As soon as they were in, Nestor closed the cargo hold’s door ramp. Lucia shed her EVA suit as she rushed through the hold on her way up to the command deck.

Nestor and Blaesus helped Kaeso to a nearby bench, where he sagged against the wall. “Did you get it all?” he asked.

Both nodded.

Blaesus said, “I'd think it an epic myth worthy of Homer if I didn't know it was real.”

Nestor turned to Cordus. “Was it everything?”

“Not even close,” Cordus said, removing his EVA helmet, sweat drenching his dark hair. He frowned at Kaeso, but Kaeso ignored him.

“It’ll have to be enough,” Kaeso said through gritted teeth as he unfastened his EVA suit. “Engine status?”

“Daryush is still making last second repairs,” Blaesus said. “Gaia is helping him.”

Kaeso looked at Blaesus, and the old Senator shrugged. “The woman is rather unique for a patrician. I've yet to find any topic of which she doesn't have at least a passing knowledge. Including magical way line engines, it seems.”

“Lucky us,” Kaeso said. He sucked in a breath when he pulled his EVA pants over his stabbed calf. Nestor bent down with a med kit and studied the wound. He rubbed the prong of his blood scanner near the wound, set it aside, then washed away the bright red blood on Kaeso’s leg with a wet towel. He applied a spray-on sealant and then injected a painkiller into Kaeso's calf. The pain washed away in a cool numbness that engulfed Kaeso’s entire leg.

“No radiation poisoning or Cariosus,” Nestor said, reading his blood scanner. “Fortuna was with you there. The sealant on your wound will hold for another hour or two, but you will need stitches and surgery to repair the muscle damage. And be gentle with it or you’ll—”

“After we leave Menota,” Kaeso said. He stood and fast limped out of the hold toward the command deck. “Get to your delta couches. We're jumping as soon as the way line engines are online.”

While climbing the ladder, Kaeso fought through the ship’s jerking motions and momentary vertigo when the artificial grav kicked in. Up top, the view out the windows was gray and brown as Lucia ascended through the dusty atmosphere.

He strapped himself into his command couch and brought up his tabulari displays. Sixty Roman antimatter missiles streaked toward Menota. They were less than a minute away.

The Praetorian was right. This would be close.

Kaeso tapped his collar com. “All crew to your couches. The missiles will impact in forty seconds.”

Kaeso heard Nestor jump into his delta control couch and then he checked the indicators for the other couches. Eight crew, eight couches occupied. Kaeso hoped the old ship would hold up to the antimatter blast that would leave a crater the size of Terra’s European continent.

Kaeso glanced at Lucia as she piloted the ship. She had the same expression she always had while concentrating—teeth set, eyebrows furrowed.

“Thank you for getting me out of that damned city,” he said.

She gave a quick nod without looking at him.

Kaeso watched the countdown on his display. As soon as they topped the planet's lower dust clouds and entered the sunlit upper atmosphere, brilliant white lights from behind drove the window filters up to their highest levels. The light overcame the filters and Kaeso had to close his eyes.

Kaeso's stomach lurched. He opened his eyes to see dark blue sky fill the command window. An alarm wailed from Lucia's pilot's console.

“Blast wave knocked out steering,” she said through gritted teeth. “Backups not responding.”

The ship felt like it dropped a hundred feet, and the view outside the command window began to spin.

“Inertia cancelers are weakened, but holding,” Lucia said. “We're in a spin.”

Kaeso tapped his collar com. “Daryush, the steering—”

Gaia interrupted, “Primary steering is blown. We're fixing the backups.”

Kaeso averted his eyes from the command window, for the spinning made him nauseous. The inertia cancelers kept the worst of the spin from affecting the crew, but vertigo still tugged at the corner of his eyes.

“Backup steering systems online,” Lucia and Gaia announced at the same time.

The spinning outside the window gradually slowed and then stopped altogether. Lucia set a course toward the dark blue sky, and the ship rocketed through the upper atmosphere. Once the ship cleared the atmosphere, the tremors from the blast wave and atmospheric turbulence stopped and the ride smoothed.

Threat alarms blared when they reached space. Kaeso glanced at his displays and cursed. The Roman flagship waited for them.

“Four antimatter missiles chasing us,” Lucia yelled.

Kaeso checked his display. Five minutes to impact.

He tapped his collar com. “Gaia, Daryush, where are we on the way line engines?”

“Ready,” Gaia said. “I’ve selected coordinates to a Saturnist world where Cordus should be safe for the time being. At least until we figure out another place for him. However…”

“What, Gaia?”

“It was all we could do to simply repair the engines. They should work...but we couldn’t fix the automated systems.”

“What are you saying?”

“It means the ship won't engage the engines while we're in delta sleep. Someone will have to stay awake to make the jump manually.”

Kaeso exhaled.

“I know,” Gaia said. “But if someone doesn't do it...”

“We all die,” Kaeso finished. “Fine. I'll do it. Transfer way line controls to my console.”

Lucia said, “Damn, Centuriae, I knew you’d—!”

“Lucia, this isn't a debate. Prepare for way line jump.”

She stared at him, emotion warring in her eyes. “Kaeso...” she whispered.

I know the feelings you have for me,
he wanted to say.
But I cannot return them. I doubt I can ever give them to another woman again.

Instead, he simply said, “I know. I
know
.”

He reached over and put his hand on her hand. She looked at it, blinked, and then pulled her hand away.

“Centuriae,” Nestor said behind him, “there is an old theory among Saturnists that way line travel without delta sleep can kill the Muses.”

Kaeso turned around. “Kills humans, too.”

“Yes, but—and this is just a theory—the Muses protect the human mind during a way line jump in order to protect themselves. But the mental turbulence during the jump is too much for them and they die once they reach the other side.”

“I'm not a Vessel.”

“But you have a Muse implant. I don't know the exact mechanics of the implant, but it might be enough.”

“I appreciate the encouragement. I suppose we'll see if you're right.”

Nestor nodded. “I thought I'd mention it.”

Kaeso turned his couch back around, then an idea came to him. “How valid is this theory?”

“It's old,” Nestor said. “I’m not aware of any testing. It’s floated around Saturnist cells for generations. I thought it might give you...well, hope.”

Kaeso nodded. Nestor’s ‘hope’ might save the only family he had left.

“When you start delta sleep for the crew...make sure Ocella is still awake.”

Nestor's eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to protest, but Kaeso cut him off. “It's either this, or she lives her life enslaved. Either way, she’ll be trapped in a body she can’t control.”

“What about Cordus? We can use his blood to—”

“What do we do with Ocella until then?” Kaeso asked. “She can communicate her position wherever we go. And if we leave her on some rock of a planet, they’ll pick her up and we’d never get her back.” Kaeso sighed. “I don't like this either, but she’s my wife's sister. The only family I can… We have to try.”

Nestor frowned, but said nothing more. He returned to his console and Kaeso swiveled his couch back around.

Two minutes until impact.

Kaeso tapped his collar com. “Ocella, if you can hear me, we're going to try something that might free you.”

“She cannot hear you, Centuriae,” Ocella's voice said calmly. “There is nothing you can do to bring her back.”

“Ocella,” Kaeso said, ignoring the Muses, “we're going to keep you awake during the way line jump. We’re not positive, but it might kill the Muses.”

“If you keep her awake during the jump, you will kill her.”

“I’ll stay awake with you, Ocella. The automated way line systems aren't working, so someone has to engage the engines manually. I could use some company.”

“You will be a murderer, Centuriae,” Ocella said, an edge creeping into her voice. “You would murder the only member of your family who knows who you really are?”

Lucia said, “One minute to impact. Sir, if we're doing this...”

“Ocella,” Kaeso said, “I won’t abandon you. I will keep this line open while we go through.”

“You cannot do this!” Ocella’s voice screamed.

Kaeso turned his couch to Nestor. “Engage delta sleep for the crew.”

Nestor gave him a long look and nodded slowly.

Kaeso turned his couch around and then glanced at Lucia. She stared at him through glistening eyes. “You'd better come through this, Centuriae. You'd better...”

Kaeso gave her a reassuring grin that didn't seem to reassure her. Then her eyes closed, her face relaxed, and her body settled into the couch.

“Delta sleep engaged for the crew, Centuriae,” Nestor said. “Transferring delta controls to your console. May the gods be with you, Kaeso Aemilius Rulus.”

Kaeso didn’t say anything. The delta monitors on his console said the entire crew was asleep except for him and Ocella. His proximity displays showed the missiles would reach them in thirty seconds.

“You are going to kill her!” Ocella's voice raged.

“Ocella, I pray you can hear me. Be ready to come back.”
If this works…

“Kaeso, please, don't do it, it's me. It's Ocella. Oh gods, they let me go. I don't want to die or go mad! Please, Kaeso! Turn on my delta sleep!”

His finger hovered over the way line engagement controls on his console, a sudden paralyzing fear coming over him. He had never feared death, but the loss of his mind terrified him. He knew men whose delta couches had malfunctioned. He had seen their vacant stares, the saliva dribbling from their mouths, the sanatoriums where the “way liners” on Libertus lived out their mind-dead lives. There were times when he thought the Roman practice of euthanizing way liners was more humane than the Liberti custom of keeping them alive.

Alarms blared from his console. The missiles would impact in ten seconds.

“Kaeso, please!” Ocella screamed.

Sweat trickled down his forehead and his heart pounded. Kaeso waited until the countdown had ticked down to the last second, and then slammed his thumb on the console to engage the way line engines.

What are they waiting for?
Lepidus wondered.
The missiles are less than—

Four white spheres appeared on his display indicating clouds of antimatter plasma hotter than the core of a star expanding near the speed of light. The cloud would have destroyed a continent and would certainly have vaporized
Caduceus
.

Had she been there less than a second before.

Why did they wait so long?

Lepidus's com chimed, and he tapped the receive button. The Consul appeared on screen.

“Our missiles detonated,” the Consul said. “
Caduceus’s
beacon no longer transmits, but interference from the rings prevents us from confirming their destruction. Your shuttle had a better line of sight above the plane of the rings. Can you confirm the ship was destroyed, Lepidus?”

The Consul stared at Lepidus with hard eyes that bored into his mind even from a screen. Did the Consul already know the truth? Was he testing Lepidus's loyalty? If Lepidus answered yes, but the Consul knew the ship had jumped, then Lepidus's punishment would be death.

At least I will be with you again, Triaria, my love.
If you can forgive me.

“They are gone, my lord,” Lepidus said, his voice steady. “The missiles destroyed them.”

The Consul stared at him a moment longer, then smiled. It was the same smile the Consul gave worshipful crowds—perfect white teeth beneath dead eyes.

“Congratulations, Lepidus,” the Consul said. “Once again your faith and loyalty has saved the Republic. You will be rewarded for your wise suggestion to chase
Caduceus
.”

“Rewards,” Lepidus said, his heart breaking that he would live. “Serving Roma and the gods is its own reward, my lord.”