Muses of Terra (Codex Antonius Book 2) (23 page)

Aquilina shook her head. “She’s different.”

“How can you be so—?”

“She’s my mother.”

Cordus paused, his mouth half open, then said, “Mothers have been known to lie to their children.”

“Not in this case. I’ve watched her obsession with you over the last six years. She’s a believer.”

“Well it doesn’t matter. What makes you think I’m not just another pretender?”

Aquilina’s voice blasted in his mind. “BECAUSE PRETENDERS CAN’T HEAR THIS.”
 

Cordus flinched at not only the power behind the voice but at how it felt like a hot dagger in the base of his skull. Aquilina watched him with a materializing smirk.

Behind him, Antonius grunted. “Gods, the girl has a set of lungs on her.”

Aquilina leaned forward. “If you should return, the civil war would end almost instantly. Every major player, from my mother down to the petty warlords, claim they are the true inheritors of the Antonii. So if the last Antonius should appear and claim the consulship, after every one has paid your family such homage, then they’d all bend their knees to you whether they want to or not. My mother certainly would.”

 
Cordus abruptly stood up from the command couch. Piso and Duran stepped forward, their pistols aimed at his head, but Cordus ignored them. He stared down at Aquilina. She had not flinched when he stood, but the muscles in her face had tightened, and she was still.

Through clenched teeth, Cordus said, “I’m
not
going to help you.” He turned to Piso, who continued to aim a pistol at him. “Take me back to Cargo One.”

“I’ll kill your friends if you don’t help,” Aquilina said from behind him.

Cordus turned and studied her. She continued to stare at the empty command couch.
 

“Will you?”

“I just let three billion people die,” she said quietly.

Cordus stared at her for a long time.
Marcus,
can you get into her implant? Can you tell if she’s lying?
 

Antonius turned and studied Aquilina. “Hmm. Her thoughts are not integrated with her implant, so we cannot see any specific deception. But we do hear conflict outside the implant. For what it’s worth, young Antonius, she’s struggling with something, but she is determined to follow a course of action.”

Cordus learned all this in an instant, and it took only another instant to come up with a plan. “Release my crew. Swear they will not be harmed…and I will give you the centuriae codes. And then we will get Kaeso and Ocella. And then you can do with me whatever you want.” He leaned forward and said, “But I am Titus Aemilius Cordus. I am
not
the last Antonius.”

“Well,” she said. “This is progress. You have a bargain, Centuriae.”

Marcus grunted. “Show us what you’re planning, young Antonius.”

When Cordus did, Marcus smiled.

25

 

Ocella lay on the gel bed staring at the opening to the endless corridor. No sound came from the corridor. No sound came from anything in the room besides Kaeso’s breathing beside her and the occasional stomach growls from them all. The opening had not closed since the Lucia-golem entered.
 

Its body still lay on the floor where Kaeso had beaten it to death hours ago.

Had it been hours? Days, weeks, months?
She had no idea, and she was at the point where she didn’t care.
 

Apathy was dangerous and led to defeat, yet how could she not feel defeated right now? Libertus was dead, Kaeso was as non-responsive as a way liner who had stayed conscious during a jump, and she was stuck inside an alien prison with a corridor outside that went to infinity in both directions. She knew the corridor simply went in a circle around the vast ship, but even that logical explanation held no reassurance.

Right now, she felt like they were going to die of old age in this room.

Even Varo lay on the gel bed next to her, staring up at the ceiling with glazed eyes. He had not spoken in… She couldn’t remember.
 

Hours, days, weeks, months?

She couldn’t even feel a hum or vibration from the ship’s engines. They could be deep beneath the surface of a rocky planet for all she knew. The wall display above showed unchanging stars. The blue lights in the room and the corridor never changed.

But it was the complete silence that attacked her sanity.

She looked down at the remains of the Lucia golem. Its face and head were a pulpy mash of yellow fluids and biological circuitry similar to the innards of human-made golems. Was this more tech that came from the Muses?
 

Had humans ever made
anything
on their own?

Her growling stomach broke the silence, and she giggled. She glanced at Kaeso and Varo. Neither one looked at her.

“Come on, gentlemen,” she said, her voice sounding shrill even to her ears. “Let’s play a game. Let’s see whose stomach can growl the loudest. I just went first. Who’s next?”

Varo rolled onto his side, his back to her. “No thanks,” he murmured.

Kaeso only stared at the display.

“Fine, how about a flatulence contest?” When neither man responded, she said, “Belching?”

She shook her head. “I’m stuck in a room with the only two human males not interested in flatulence or belching. Are you men or what?”

Without turning around, Varo growled, “How about you shut your mouth?”

“Excuse me, pilot?” Ocella said slowly. “Watch how you address your centuriae.”

Varo sat up and faced her. “Sorry,
Centuriae
. How about you shut your mouth,
Centuriae, sir, madam, my Lady
? Is that better?”

Ocella stood. “Calm down, Varo. You’re losing your grip.”

He laughed. “You’re the one suggesting fart competitions,
Centuriae
. Who’s losing her grip,
Centuriae
?”

She knew Varo was right. Her juvenile suggestions proved it. And picking a fight with Varo wouldn’t help their situation. But she just wanted to feel something other than apathy.

Ocella strode to Varo, who stood up from his gel bed with his fists balled at his sides. She stood before him, nose-to-nose, and growled, “Stand down, pilot.”

“Eat my
cac
, Centuriae.”

She brought her knee up in a shot that should have connected with his groin. But he was ready for it and averted his body at the last second. Instead, her knee plunged into his abdomen. The air exploded from his lungs and he doubled over. It was not quite the location she had planned, but it would do.

“I said, stand down—”

Varo rammed his shoulder into her midsection. Both flew into the side of the gel bed on which Kaeso sat. Varo tried straddling her, but she kicked away from him before he could set himself. She tried to stand. His foot shot toward her legs. She jumped over his foot and then brought her elbow down on his face as he tried to tackle her again.

His nose crunched beneath her elbow. Varo howled as blood spurted from his nose. He fell onto his back. Ocella straddled him, then landed blow after blow on his forearms, which covered his face. She knew she was hurting him, but she couldn’t stop.

Hard, muscular arms looped through her arms and pulled her backwards. She screamed in protest, but Kaeso’s voice was deep and calm in her ear. “Enough,” he said.

His voice broke the spell she’d been under, and she slumped to the ground. She stared at the blood flowing from between Varo’s hands. He was shaking and sobbing.

“We’re going to die here,” he said between sobs. “We’re never getting out…”

Ocella pulled on the left sleeve of her jump suit near the seams. It ripped a little, so she pulled harder. Kaeso saw what she was doing and helped her pull the sleeve apart. It came loose with a loud tearing sound. She gathered the sleeve in a bunch and crawled over to Varo.

“I’m sorry, Varo,” she said, trying to pull his hands from his face. He let her do so. Blood and mucus flowed from his crooked nose, and he stared up at her through tear-filled eyes.
 

“We’re going to die here,” he repeated. “We’re going to die here...”

Ocella put the bunched up sleeve on Varo’s nose. “Sit up, Varo. You don’t want to choke on your blood.”

He meekly did as he was told, and leaned is back against his gel bed. “Better to end it now than wait forever.”

“Stop it,” Ocella said. She held the sleeve firmly against Varo’s nose. “We can’t think like that. Not ever. No matter how long they keep us here, we cannot think like that.”
 

If I could only follow my own orders…

Varo didn’t say anything. He leaned against the gel bed and took the sleeve from her hands. “I can take care of my own nose.”

Ocella nodded and then sat back. She brought her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. Kaeso was staring at her.

“Welcome back,” she said.

He averted his eyes. “Sorry. I don’t know what happened.”

“You watched your home world die.”

“You did, too. You didn’t lose your mind.”

She glanced at Varo. “Didn’t I?”

“Your hands are bleeding.”

She noticed her swollen and bleeding knuckles for the first time. They suddenly felt on fire, as if they’d been waiting for her to see them before producing pain. She tried flexing them, but they only hurt worse.

A loud, metallic clang echoed from the corridor outside the room. Ocella jerked her head around to the opening. Faint footsteps came from down the hall. She scrambled to her feet. Even Varo stood on his own after some struggle. She was heartened to see the self-pity had fled from his eyes, replaced with a hardness that his bloody face made even more menacing. Kaeso stared at the opening, his body in a defensive stance.
 

Ocella took on the same posture as Kaeso and Varo. They were not defeated yet.

The footsteps came closer and then stopped just outside.

A face peeked around the corner. It was human, a young woman with dark hair and—

Kaeso gasped. “Claudia!”

26

 

Claudia stepped from around the corner, her eyes wide. “Father?”

She issued a quick sob, then ran into the room and wrapped her arms around Kaeso. Kaeso stood wide-eyed, his arms at his sides.

“They just took me. Oh gods, I don’t know where my son and husband are…” Her words turned into unintelligible sobs.

Ocella stared transfixed at Kaeso’s daughter.
How did they find her?
 

And how did she know Kaeso was her father? Umbra had surgically modified his face when he joined to make him unrecognizable to anyone who might have known him. Kaeso had briefly visited her six years ago, but he had done so under the guise of an old soldier friend of her father’s.
 

She shouldn’t be able to recognize him.

Cold dread swept through Ocella as she studied Claudia grasping Kaeso like a scared child. Ocella glanced at the Lucia-golem on the floor and then back to Claudia. It had not taken the aliens long to perfect the Lucia-golem…

Kaeso seemed to realize the same thing. His wide eyes slowly turned to Ocella. She had no idea what to say to him. Leaving Claudia was a wound that had never healed for him, and Ocella could only imagine how painful it must be to see her again like this.

Kaeso slowly grabbed Claudia’s arms and pried loose her embrace. He held her at arm’s length, his face muscles twitching. She stared up at him through confused, tearful eyes.
 

If Claudia was a golem, she was the most perfect golem ever made. The emotions, the tears, even the eyes. They were all indistinguishably human.
 

“What?” she asked.

Kaeso seemed incapable of speaking, so Ocella gently pulled Claudia away from him. He let his hands drop to his sides once she was out of reach and continued staring at the spot where she had stood.

“Claudia,” Ocella said, “how did you get here?”

Claudia continued staring at Kaeso as she said, “I was home. Alone. Abram took Pullus to the market to buy dinner. I was in my studio listening to some recordings I made yesterday. Then the emergency sirens started up outside. I thought it was another drill. We’ve had a lot since the Roman siege, but they’re always scheduled. This was a surprise. I went to the window and saw…” She sucked in a quick breath, and her chin began to quiver. “I saw a black object hovering just above the ground in front of the house. Then these
things
jumped out—”

Claudia started crying again, so Ocella hugged her. Golems produced internal heat that was far warmer than a normal human. But Claudia felt the same as a real human.

“And then I was standing in front of this room,” she said when her sobs eased. “I don’t remember how I got here. Have you seen Abram and Pullus?”

“I’m sorry, we haven’t,” Ocella said. She studied Claudia’s eyes. Brown, just like Petra’s. Tears streamed from them, but they were nothing like the inhuman eyes the Lucia-golem had.
Was
this Claudia? Was this really Kaeso’s daughter and Ocella’s niece?

“Claudia, how do you know this is your father?”

Claudia looked at Kaeso, who continued standing where he was, his arms at his side and his gaze on the floor.

“He came to me six years ago,” she said. “Said he was a friend of my father’s. But I knew it was him from his eyes.”

“How?” Ocella asked.

“My son, Pullus, has the same eyes.”

“No!” Kaeso suddenly screamed. He turned to Claudia and pointed at her. “You are not real! They made you! They gave you Claudia’s memories and then threw you in here for whatever sick experiments they’re doing on us.
YOU ARE NOT REAL!

Claudia flinched backward as if Kaeso had struck her. But she recovered quickly, her pain turning to anger.

“So that’s it,” she snarled. “You’ve abandoned me before, so why not now? I spent the last six years searching for you, thinking you had good reasons for leaving me. Turns out you just never wanted me. You were a waste of time. Pathetic.”

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