Muses of Terra (Codex Antonius Book 2) (7 page)

 
“Why? Why can’t you just talk to me in my mind like you always did?”

Marcus shrugged. “You’re the first
living being
to control us. Nobody knows how this will work, not even us. You may have noticed our silence recently?”

Cordus nodded.
 

Marcus walked around the hold, inspecting the cargo containers. “That’s because your body and your brain are maturing. This one is loose.”

Cordus checked the floor clips on a container of pressure suit air canisters. Sure enough, the clips were not pushed all the way closed. Cordus went over, bent down, and fastened the clips.

Can you read my mind, too?

“Yes,” Marcus said, moving to another cargo container, “but like before, only if your questions are directed at us.”
 

Cordus couldn’t help but stare at Marcus. Though well muscled, he was a head shorter than today’s average human. The Muse-memories of Marcus’s days gave Cordus the impression Marcus was taller. In his day, he may have been taller than the average ancient human.

“Why didn’t you tell him you see us?” Marcus asked while checking another container.

“You know why.”

“Yes, yes,” Marcus said. “They
say
they trust you, but they don’t
really
trust you, eh? Afraid we’re going to reassert our control some day?”

Cordus watched Marcus. “Are you?”

Marcus walked back to Cordus with a grin. “We would if we could. Believe us, we have tried, but some things are beyond even our understanding.”

“What do you mean?”

Marcus shrugged and then sat upon a container. His armor clinked as he moved, and his sword banged against the container as he hopped up.
 

“Every species that has served us has presented us with challenges that forced us to evolve. Our strain alone has controlled nine different species over the course of millions of Terran years. Humanity’s individualist nature forced us to evolve to be compatible with your physiology.” Marcus’s eyes narrowed at Cordus. “You, young Antonius, are the first sentient being to control us,
and we cannot figure out why.
We evolve, we adapt, but you block us in every way…and you don’t even know you’re doing it.”

“So I’m blessed by the gods, like Nestor says?”

Marcus barked a laugh. “We know nothing of the existence, or non-existence, of your gods.”

“Then I suppose I’m just lucky.”

Marcus shrugged. “All life evolves. Perhaps you are a new path in the universe’s biological evolution. The ‘why’ of it doesn’t matter to us, though. We are your slaves and there’s nothing we can do about it.” Marcus bowed his head to Cordus. “That, at least, has not changed.”

When he was a child, Cordus guarded his thoughts as soon as he realized what the Muses were. Not only did Cordus grow up watching how the Muses controlled his family—from his father down to his brothers and sisters—but he had the memories of what they did from the moment they infected Marcus Antonius a thousand years ago. Cordus knew they were ruthless and would enslave him if given the opportunity.

But his memories also told him that while the Muses may be vicious, they never lied to their hosts. Even when those hosts were slaves, the Muses always told their hosts the truth.

Easy to do when you know you have control,
he thought. The Muses never lied to the hosts they controlled for the same reason Cordus would never lie to a golem.

“Ah,” Marcus said, watching Cordus, “the gears are turning in your head, young Antonius. Should I trust this apparition, should I not? Should I tell my friends, should I not? Decisions abound!”

“Fine,” Cordus growled. “You seem eager to tell me what I should do. What would you do in my situation? If you are my slave, you will tell me the truth.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow. “We would have you do what you were born to do: lead and command. You have the wisdom of a thousand years in your mind. Use it to rule these people. Use physical qualities we give you to force them to—”

“No!” Cordus said, immediate disgust crawling in his stomach. “If you mean I should use your aura to take away the will of other human beings, like my ancestors did, then that is something I will never do. You know this.”

Marcus smiled, then jumped down from the cargo container and put a hand on Cordus’s shoulder. Cordus could feel the hand through his jump suit.

“Very well,” Marcus said, “may Fortuna be with you, young Antonius.”

Then he vanished.

Cordus exhaled sharply.
No, I will not tell Kaeso about this.
 

He didn’t have the time or energy to work through this right now. He had trierarch duties to finish.

7

Cordus awoke from his delta sleep and checked the status displays on his pilot’s tabulari. Ship’s integrity was intact, systems nominal, and their location was what it should be: orbiting Reantium just outside the alpha way line event horizon.
 

They used alpha way lines rather than the instant travel of their quantum way line engines. The quantum engines were still a Saturnist and Umbra secret, so
Vacuna
only used them when traveling to remote locations. They’d have to answer awkward questions if the local way station saw them pop into existence far from a known way line.

The acrid smell of Nestor’s pre-way line sacrifice still hung in the air. Cordus was comforted by the scent. It meant he was alive and not mad from the jump.

“Way line jump successful,” Cordus reported to Kaeso, who sat in the command couch to his left. “All systems normal.”

“Very good, Trierarch,” Kaeso said.
 

Cordus glanced at the com on his tabulari. The Reantium Way Station should have hailed them by now. He scanned the com channels around the way station. Nothing. He checked the proximity sensors for any ships around the way station. While it was small compared to Liberti standards, there should have been some traffic.
 

But the local space was empty.

Cordus looked at Kaeso.
 

“Get a read on the way station itself,” Kaeso ordered.

Cordus gave a sharp exhale when the readings came through. The way station, a hollowed asteroid where starships docked, gave off no power signatures at all. It was a cold, dead rock.

“Take us into the atmosphere,” Kaeso said, after checking the scans.

“Yes, sir.”
 

Cordus entered the coordinates Blaesus had provided to the villa of Aulus Tarpeius. Tarpeius owned over 90,000 acres of farmland on Reantium, making him the largest landowner on the planet. Reantium had just gone through a bloody revolt against the Roman garrisons stationed there, but most battles had taken place on the other side of the planet in the more populated areas. Tarpeius’s villa was remote, even for this planet, so his holdings had been unaffected.

At least they’d been unaffected as of his last com. So had the way station.

Tarpeius was a committed Saturnist, which somehow escaped Blaesus’s keen observation skills for the decades he knew Tarpeius. Cordus sent a sample of his blood to Tarpeius a year ago so his flamens could work on a Muse-detection device. In theory, it could detect the aura a Muse-infected human gave off, which was scentless to a human nose, and therefore Saturnists could know who was infected. A courier golem from Tarpeius had arrived on Caesar Nova three weeks ago saying the device was ready for testing. The original plan was for
Vacuna
to bring the device back to Caesar Nova and test it on Cordus. But now, since Cordus was coming along anyway, they would test it on him on Reantium.
 

“Piloting” the ship through the atmosphere was a matter of entering the correct coordinates and making sure the ship’s automated re-entry systems functioned normally. After that, Cordus could sit back and watch the view outside the command deck windows. Bright white plasma engulfed the ship as it collided with Reantium’s atmosphere. Cordus watched his tabulari as the ship’s inertial control and grav systems yielded to Reantium’s natural gravity field. This always made the ride into an atmosphere bumpier than it tended to be on more modern ships.
Vacuna
was state-of-the-art ninety years ago. Today, only the engineering skills of Dariya, Daryush, and to a lesser extent their Saturnist friends kept the ship flying.
 

The white plasma surrounding
Vacuna
dissipated, and the ship descended through the sparse clouds. Cordus checked his tabulari once again.

“Re-entry complete, ion engines engaged, altitude 60,000 feet,” Cordus reported to Kaeso. “Should land at Tarpeius holdings in twenty minutes.”

“Thank you, Trierarch,” Kaeso said. “And thank you for letting the ship fly.” He gave Cordus a small grin. “Lucia likes to fly it through the atmosphere. Makes for a bumpier ride. I hate it.”

“Why don’t you tell her?”

“Because it makes her feel in control of something that’s beyond her control.”

Marcus Antonius leaned between Cordus and Kaeso, and Cordus jumped. “You see, we are not that different from each other,” Marcus said.

Kaeso noticed Cordus’s flinch. “You all right, Trierarch?”

“Fine,” Cordus said, though he couldn’t see Kaeso with Marcus between them. Cordus quickly rubbed his left eye. “A speck…”

Marcus laughed. “You’re getting good at lying to him.”

Why are you here?
Cordus asked with his mind.

“We’re always here, young Antonius. We’re part of you, remember?”

Why are you taunting me then?

Marcus affected a frown. “We would never taunt you. We have more respect for our master than humans ever did for theirs.”

If I’m your master, then I order you to go away and not come back unless I call for you. Clear?

Marcus bowed his head. “Of course,
Dominar
.”
 

Then he disappeared…to reveal Kaeso staring at Cordus with a raised eyebrow.

Cordus blinked several times. “Damned speck.”

Nestor spoke up from his delta couch behind Cordus. “You might have an eyelash. Do you want me to check?”

“I’m fine,” Cordus said a little too forcefully. Then in a gentler tone, “I think it’s out now.”
 

He hoped he could make Marcus go away and reappear with a simple order. He decided he would test that later when he wasn’t so busy…or around people.

Vacuna
descended toward the Tarpeius holdings on a clear, sunny day. The ship sped over rolling green hills and vast crops of wheat, maize, and other vegetables and grains. Farming was Reantium’s reason for existence, and it had once been considered Roma’s “granary”. With Reantium’s independence, food prices in the Republic would now soar. Some outlying systems and colonies would even starve.
 

Cordus ground his teeth.
Just one Roman warlord Legion could’ve stopped this revolt before it even began. And yet millions of citizens will starve because gluttonous senators fight over who gets to sit in the consul’s chair.
 

The hailing channel chimed. “
Vacuna
, this is Tarpeius flight control. Please respond.”

Cordus thumbed the com. “Tarpeius flight control, this is
Vacuna
.”

“We have you inbound from the southwest at 200 miles out from Tarpeius spaceport. That port is no longer in operation. Please proceed to government-sanctioned Nascio spaceport at the coordinates I’m forwarding to you.”

Kaeso frowned, then thumbed his com. “Tarpeius flight control, this is the Centuriae of
Vacuna
. What happened to the Tarpeius spaceport?”

There was a noticeable pause. “Tarpeius spaceport has been decommissioned by the Reantium Liberation Collegium.”

“‘Reantium Liberation Collegium’?”

“Reantium’s holy government. Please proceed to Nascio spaceport where agents of Aulus Tarpeius will transport you to his villa.”

Kaeso’s frown deepened. “Acknowledged, Tarpeius flight control.
Vacuna
out.”

Cordus entered the new coordinates into the tabulari. The ship’s automated systems obeyed the commands and brought the ship into a steeper descent to the Nascio land port seventy miles closer.

“So this is Tarpeius’s reward for staying out of the rebellion,” Cordus said.

“Or punishment. The ‘Reantium Liberation Collegium’ is likely bitter he didn’t use his considerable resources to drive the Romans out.”

“Should we be worried?”

Kaeso looked at Cordus wryly. “Just don’t tell anyone who you are.”

“Great.”

“The Centuriae is right,” Nestor said. “The worlds that rebelled against the Republic all wanted one thing: independence. Most desire membership in the Lost Worlds, so they try very hard to remain friendly to non-Romans. As long as we stick with our usual cover stories, we will be fine. The post-rebellion worlds we’ve visited so far have treated us like pontiffs.”

Cordus wished Kaeso and Nestor’s words reassured him, but they didn’t. Terrible uneasiness spread from his gut. He hadn’t felt this nervous since he escaped Terra six years ago. He noticed Kaeso also seemed tense. His brows furrowed as he scrolled through planetary news feeds on his tabulari.

This is what it’s like to be in danger. Get used to it.

Nascio flight control hailed the ship and then took control of their landing process. Cordus was already uneasy over the dead way station and change in spaceports, so letting an unknown flight controller fly the ship made him bite his lip.

Cordus looked out the command deck windows at the Nascio spaceport. Few ships were parked around the port, mostly shuttles and air flyers. Four block-shaped hangars with the iconic Roman red-tiled roofs were spread across the port, and a small control tower stood near the edge of the concrete landing pads.

Nascio flight control set
Vacuna
down on a pad with a slight bump. As soon as the ship landed, controls came back to Cordus’s tabulari, so he powered down the engines and the inertia/grav fields. Cordus felt lighter, as Reantium’s gravity was 0.95 T.