Muses of Terra (Codex Antonius Book 2) (37 page)

“The ones on top are mundane com bands,” Aquilina said. Two of the three monitors bore the Praetorian sigil: a gold scorpion on a red shield. The third displayed a publicly broadcast news band where a well-groomed female crier questioned a young centuriae in Terra’s Naves Astrum. The sound was off, so Cordus could not hear the interview. A larger bottom monitor directly in front of the chair also showed the Praetorian sigil, but it was a three-dimensional display.
 

“The bottom monitor shows your message,” Aquilina continued. “You focus your thoughts with images, sounds, and feelings which are transmitted to the other implant. The bottom monitor shows your transmission and then the response.”

Cordus wondered if Marcus Antonius would show up on the monitors while Cordus was communicating with the vessel.
 

“Most definitely,” Marcus said, leaning on the tabulari and peering at the monitors. “If you can see us, they will see us. They did a fine job figuring this out, considering they didn’t have our guidance.”

Maybe you’d better not show yourself,
Cordus thought to him.

Marcus eyed him severely. “You’re going to need us, young Antonius. That strain is more powerful than you can imagine. Even with the golem power, you will still need our council.”

Cordus knew Marcus was right. But what would the others think when they saw Marcus Antonius Primus at his side on that monitor?

“We don’t have time to debate this,” Marcus said.

I know.

Cordus sat down. The chair was padded and comfortable, but it felt more like something into which a torturer would strap his victims. He took the head net, a mesh of clear elastic wires, and put it on. The net tightened so that it fit his head snuggly.

“Now wha—?”

The three mundane monitors above the large implant monitor flickered and then materialized into the same image. Three beings sat upon marble thrones, one man with two women on either side, all dressed in iconic white togas. Cordus knew who they were because their faces were on almost every public building in the Republic.

Jupiter leaned forward, his blue eyes shining with the fires of Elysium. He wore a fatherly smile that gave Cordus chills rather than comfort.

“My children,” his voice boomed from the monitors’ speakers, “your salvation is at hand.”

Juno said in a motherly tone that was at once stern and sad, “Your leaders have failed you, so we have come to bring peace to the holy Republic. Your leaders will try to stop us, for they only desire power above your welfare.”

Minerva, with an owl perched on her shoulder, said, “If you wish for peace, do not resist the angels we are sending to eliminate the current regime and its minions. Once Terra is secure, a golden age will begin that will surpass even that of the Antonii.”
 

The images flickered again on the three mundane monitors, and then they returned to their previous state. The well-groomed crier stared open-mouthed at a monitor beside her before she realized she was back on camera.

“Blasphemy,” Gracchus murmured.

“Yeah,” Ulpius growled, “but enough will believe it’s them. These Praetorian bands are supposed to be secure. If those aliens grabbed secure bands, they probably sent this out to every com device on Terra.”
 

Aquilina said, “There are thousands of people outside and inside the Temple right now. The Temple monitors probably showed this, too.”

The holo-monitors inside and outside the temple showed religious ceremonies to as many people as possible. If the gathering crowds panicked and believed the alien “gods” were real, some might take the alien side and try killing off Roma’s leaders. When the “angels” showed up, things in the Temple could get violent.

“Aquilina, how do I get in?”

“If you were contacting another implant, we’d have the codes programmed into the tabulari; you could just look it up and send a transmission.” She took a deep breath. “The vessel is not in the tabulari, so you’ll need to search for it…somehow.”
 

Cordus nodded.
Marcus, that’s where you come in.

“We are ready,” Marcus said.
 

Cordus closed his eyes. The Muses whispered in his mind as they reached out to find the golem signals, just as they had done on Reantium. At first, they could find none on the com room’s immediate level, but as their search expanded to other temple levels, signals began to appear to Cordus like tiny stars in his mind. More stars popped into existence as the Muses found golems outside the temple and in the surrounding buildings. The search expanded at an exponential speed, racing through Roma, then Italia, then the rest of Europa and the Mediterranean provinces. The stars in Cordus’s mind exploded into a galaxy of signals, and kept growing. A part of his mind was shocked at how numerous the golems had become on Terra, but he had no time to think on it or pray for the safety of their citizen-owners once he took away their safety controls.

“We have all the golem signals on Terra, young Antonius,” Marcus said from beside Cordus.
 

To the real gods of the Pantheon…forgive me.
 

Cordus mentally opened his hands wide to gather in all the power. It rushed into his hands as streaks of light too numerous to count. Thousands, millions, he had no idea. Their power filled him with a fire that did not burn, but made him feel…like a god.

He shook away that thought, and tried not to dwell on what the released golems were doing right now.
 

The vessel. Find the vessel.

Cordus searched the space around Terra and quickly found the alien vessel. He could not see it so much as feel the vibration of its immense presence. Its power overwhelmed any other source in the entire Sol system, like the sun outshone the planets. He drew in all the power from the golems and
leaped
for the vessel. He surged through the atmosphere faster than was possible for a mundane ship, only his thoughts limiting his speed. He flew through the atmosphere in seconds and entered the quiet cold of space. He knew he was not in space physically, that this was how his mind interpreted what was happening to him, but space felt every bit as cold as he imagined it would. It was agonizing; his body would have frozen solid. At least he could still breathe.

He found the vessel. Its amorphous shape seemed as big as the sun, though he knew that was not true. The power it emitted made it seem much larger to his mind’s eye.
 

Black shapes, like hornets, streaked past Cordus from the vessel, all racing toward Terra. The drones. Terra’s planetary defenses would engage them soon…if they weren’t already distracted by the golems.

The vessel. Focus on the vessel!

Cordus willed himself to go faster, and he arrived at the vessel almost before the thought to accelerate left his mind. He approached the vessel at an alarming speed, and would crash into its obsidian skin in seconds. But he willed himself to go faster and then closed his eyes as he prepared for impact—

He fell into a patch of tall grass and rolled several paces before stopping. Dirt filled his mouth and eyes from the fall. He blinked away the grit and spit out strands of grass. After his eyes cleared, he looked around.

He was in a vast grassy plain beneath a blue, cloudless sky. A warm breeze swayed the tall green grass around him.
 

“I’m so happy to see you again, Cordus,” a voice said from behind him.

Cordus whirled around. Ocella stood next to him, wearing the green dress uniform of a Liberti Defense Force centuriae. Her hair was longer, hanging down her back in a shoulder-length braid. She seemed younger than Cordus ever remembered. In fact, she looked only ten years older than Cordus.

Cordus stared at her. “Ocella, what—?”

“You have questions,” Ocella said, holding out a white-gloved hand. Cordus slowly took it, and she pulled him up off the ground. “Come with me, and you’ll have your answers.”

Ocella turned around and marched toward a large temple off in the distance. Cordus stared at the temple; it looked like the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus in Roma. Only
much
bigger.

Cordus glanced at Ocella again, her back straight and her stride purposeful. Why was she here in what should be the vessel’s Muse mind? Why did she look so young? Disturbing thoughts struck him. Was it really Ocella or a Muse-generated copy? Where was her body?

Ocella turned around. She smiled, but it did not hold the warmth he remembered. “Do you want your questions answered or not?”

Cordus nodded once and then followed.

45

Aquilina watched the lower monitor, seeing and hearing everything Cordus experienced. She marveled at how easily he had taken the Muse-based energy of the golems and then used that power to “fly” up to the alien vessel via the Muse com bands. Her own experiences with the implant com were much more mundane: just a recording of her mother standing in a drab room speaking her message. Cordus’s experiences were dreamlike and real-time, limited only by his imagination. He sped past the incoming drones and then blasted through the alien vessel’s shield. When he fell into the strange field, she began to hope. If he could penetrate the alien shields, he could defeat them.

“Good lad,” Ulpius breathed.

Aquilina was about to agree, but her hope turned to dread when she saw Marcia Licinius Ocella.

“Who’s that?” Gracchus asked, his blue eyes studying the monitor.

Aquilina sighed. “His mother.”

“Mother? I thought she died.”

“That is the Umbra Ancile who helped him escape Terra six years ago and who basically raised him ever since.”

Ulpius grunted. “Well what the
cac
is she doing there?”

“Distracting him,” Aquilina said.
 

The Muses were not stupid. If they had Kaeso Aemilius, they likely knew everything there was to know about Cordus. Especially his emotional buttons. They would use every weapon they had. Aquilina prayed Cordus could resist.

A tapping came from the door. Aquilina opened it to find Tarquitius standing there. She had to force herself not to put a pulse round in the man’s brain right then and there. He had helped murder her mother. His life was hers.

But not now.
Cordus needs me, and Cordus needs him. For now.

“What?” Aquilina asked.

If Tarquitius noticed the acid dripping from Aquilina’s voice, he ignored it. “We have incoming drones. They’re spreading across the planet. The Legion Aeris corps is engaging them, but there are too many. Some will be here in minutes. My men are protecting the implant com dish on the roof, but if something happens to the dish, only someone with an implant can access the systems to repair it.”

“There are dozens of Praetorians with implants,” Aquilina growled. “Use one of them.”

Tarquitius frowned impatiently. “They’re spread throughout the city looking for you. They won’t get here in time.”

Aquilina glanced at Cordus sitting in the com chair. His eyes were closed and he looked as if he was in a peaceful sleep. She had given him her word that she would protect him while he fought the vessel. It was a matter of honor. He was her Consul, but also more. She couldn’t articulate what that “more” was. He was a good man and a good leader. Even after spending such a short time with Cordus, she could not imagine her life without him. And she knew very well he had feelings for her.

But if the implant com signal was lost…
 

“Gracchus, with me. Ulpius, guard Cordus.”

Both Praetorians nodded. Gracchus unslung his pulse rifle and followed Aquilina out the door. Without a word, Tarquitius led them down the corridor through squads of black-armored Praetorians and Temple Custudii and to the stairwell that went up to the roof. They climbed two flights of stairs and then exited through a steel door onto the temple roof.

A cold wind blasted Aquilina. The lights of Roma twinkled in the pre-dawn, spanning the horizon in every direction. It reminded her of the view from her tower apartment in the Suburba, though not as spectacular since no building could rise higher than the temple. She loved that apartment, despite her mother insisting she move to the Consular Palace with—

A cold lump rose in Aquilina’s throat, and she eyed Tarquitius’s back as he strode toward the Muse com dish in the center of the temple’s roof. Her right hand rested on her holstered pulse pistol.

I may not get a better chance…

She took a deep breath and dropped her hand to her side.

She spied squads of Praetorians and Custudii stationed across the roof. Mass driver cannons, their barrels pointed skyward, stood ready to rotate in any direction to combat the coming drones. The faint howl of sirens rose up from the city, warning citizens and slaves to take shelter. The crack of pulse fire occasionally echoed from all directions in the city, and Aquilina wondered if it came from looters or the rampaging golems Cordus feared he would unleash. Either way, they were not her concern.

The Muse com dish was small and nondescript compared to all the other com dishes spread across the roof. Four Praetorians guarded it, and Aquilina recognized Tarquitius’s centurion as one of them.

“You can take cover with me in the bunker over there,” Tarquitius said, pointing to a flat opening in the roof with stairs leading down to another door. “We’ll only need you if something happens to the dish.”

The last thing Aquilina wanted was to be in a confined space with Tarquitius. She wasn’t sure she could stop her impulse to kill him. She was about to say she’d rather stay on the roof when the mass driver cannons erupted with fire. The sound wasn’t as bad as the concussive force from each blast. The blasts increased the pressure on her ears and affected her balance.

“Incoming drones!” somebody shouted. All the Praetorians and Custudii took cover behind sandbagged fortifications while Tarquitius raced toward the bunker stairs.

In between the cannon blasts, Gracchus yelled, “My lady, we must take cover!”