The Last Roman (Praetorian Series - Book One) (38 page)

“I remember reading about that,” I replied, vaguely
recalling the morning I read about it on my news feed. “Apparently
nothing of value was stolen, except for two items, neither related
in any way to the other. They never released what those artifacts
were.”

“That’s probably because they thought their
importance wasn’t significant. However, we quickly learned that one
of those artifacts was actually in fact our lost blue sphere.”

“Really?” I asked. “The plot thickens.”

Vincent ignored my sarcasm. “We knew the robbery was
committed by known terrorists from the security footage. Most were
unrecognizable nobodies, but there was one the CIA identified for
us. Abdullah.”

Now things were getting interesting. “So, let me get
this straight,” I said, hoping I hadn’t missed anything. “Your
researchers recovered evidence of an ancient time machine, which
just happened to be residing, inconspicuously, in an Egyptian
museum, only to have said museum broken into by Islamic extremists
and the sphere stolen? Then, in your infinite wisdom, you sent out
a team to recover the sphere, hoping to utilize its abilities for
yourself, and somehow magically make the world a better place?”

“You make it sound almost… wrong, but to answer your
question, no, that was not actually the plan. Did you or Varus
understand the part about how the sphere affects those who spend
too much time around it?”

I thought about it. “Actually… no, that didn’t come
up.”

Vincent huffed. “Well, our historians learned that
there were some who, when in direct and constant contact with the
sphere, developed interesting symptoms revolving around intense
paranoia, Tourette Syndrome, dementia. These people were borderline
insane, and prone to random acts of physical violence. Others who
came into contact with it showed no affects at all. Sound
familiar?”

I didn’t flinch at his paternal tone. “No.”

“I thought so. That information was in the notes.
Now, think here for a second. Intelligence agencies reported
Abdullah as a rational man prior to the attack on the Vatican, a
man low on their priority list because he was never pegged as one
who would actually do anything crazy. But what does he do a year
later after the museum robbery? He causes one of the most atrocious
acts of terrorism the world has ever seen. And remember the
condition we found him in? He was crazy. By the way, I want to add
something to your ever-expanding theory on time travel.”

I nodded, feeling excited, rather than annoyed.

“In our history, when nothing happened, you said the
ball was packed up and lost to history, right?”

“It’s a possibility, yes,” I answered.

“‘A possibility’?” He repeated with a smirk. “Well,
here’s my theory: what if it sat on Caligula’s nightstand for
months, or even years,
before
it was lost?”

I stopped dead in my tracks. I couldn’t believe what
he was saying, because it made perfect sense. The sphere
is
a part of our history, and may have indeed become a trinket of
Caligula’s when it seemed to serve no purpose. If its negative side
effects were true, it would definitely explain how Caligula really
slipped towards madness, as well as how it became worse and worse
over his short reign.

“I must say, sir, your theory is compelling. If
you’re right, then I think it’s especially important to find out
where the sphere is now. Actually,” I corrected, “we need to find
out where both of them are.”

“I know. I’ve been thinking about that as well, but
I have no idea where they could be. Hopefully, they’re locked away
in a vault somewhere back in Rome.”

I considered that for a moment. I knew it wouldn’t
be that easy. When we found them, we needed to destroy them. Even
if we could find a way for them to return us to our original place
on the timeline, home might not be how we remembered it anymore.
We’d need to fix that first, too.

“You still haven’t answered my question as to your
motives behind us arriving here,” I reminded him, not letting him
off that easy.

Vincent stopped, and sat down on a large stone near
the
porta decumana
, while I continued to stand near him. I
looked up at the rampart and saw Helena standing on the platform,
performing her guard duties. She noticed us beneath her and raised
a questioning hand. I waved her off and turned back to Vincent who,
meanwhile, had picked up a stick and started drawing lines in the
dirt like an eight year old.

He took another long breath before continuing. “We
weren’t supposed to end up in ancient Rome,” he said shaking his
head distractedly as he admired his sand drawings. “We had no idea
as to the context of what the document meant. The Pope hoped to
bring the sphere back and study it, and maybe utilize it to help,
but only if it could have been done safely, in a controlled way.
The Pope’s first team was really commissioned to look for the
sphere. It had been unsuccessful so far, which is why our second
team was created, to help in that search, while simultaneously
eliminating terrorist threats.”

I frowned. “Was McDougal in on it?”

“Of course. He was the one who came up with the plan
to provide additional supplies for teams who had a direct lead on
the sphere. He knew that when dealing with something unknown that
anything can happen and he wanted us ready for anything. That’s why
we were given the supply cache. Just in case.”

I looked at him suspiciously. “What about me?”

Vincent must have known I’d ask about that because
he didn’t hesitate. “We had no idea you would be the key to getting
us here. Honestly, we didn’t, but you were chosen for reasons other
than the ones you were told. We knew the document was written in
Etruscan, so chances were it had something to do with antiquity. We
knew you were studying the classics before enlisting in the
military, and thought it would be a good idea to recruit you. You’d
be surprised to learn there aren’t very many military men with the
eclectic educational background that you have. I guess we got
lucky, but I was just as surprised as you were when we ended up
beneath that temple.” He paused for a second. “There’s...
more.”

I waited expectantly, folding my arms across my
chest.

Vincent continued. “We’re under orders to do all
that we can to aid the regime in power, to help maintain peace and
stability in whatever region we find ourselves in, for as long as
possible.” He paused again. “I was ordered to get involved. To…
tweak things. Make them better. When we arrived here, I thought our
luck couldn’t have been better. Caligula showed such promise.”

I threw my hands in the air, anger brewing deep
inside my chest, and started walking in a small circle. “You can’t
be fucking serious! What about the church? Christianity? The Pope,
for God’s sakes?! What about our Goddamned timeline?! Didn’t you
think about Charlemagne, Muhammad, Genghis Khan, King Henry VIII,
Admiral Yamamoto… I dunno… Mary Fucking Steenburgen!?! Didn’t you
for one second think you might change all that?”

“Think about it, Jacob,” he replied calmly, glancing
around at the suspicious looks legionnaires had turned after my
outburst. “Jesus has already died and risen. Most of our
institution’s background is just starting to establish itself as we
speak, but in the East. No matter what we do here, things won’t
slow down over there. And think about Caligula. Does he seem like
the kind of man who would persecute and destroy a population based
on their faith like Nero?”

I thought about that. Caligula seemed far from that
kind of man. He had the confidence and arrogance of any Caesar, but
he was compassionate, caring, intelligent, and furthermore, a
leader. He would have no problem with Christians.

I still couldn’t believe what I was hearing. How
could one so willingly try to change the past? The ramifications
were unfathomable. Just because we thought we were doing the right
thing didn’t mean things would turn out for the better. Things
could turn out worse. We had no idea which.

I turned my back on Vincent, put my hands on my
hips, and looked at the ground. This was stupid. We were messing
with shit no man had the right to mess with. We had no right to
screw with the lives of all those who lived between 37 and 2021
A.D. I looked up at the rampart to see Helena leaning over the
rail, her eyebrows furrowed in concern.

I turned back to Vincent. “I can’t believe this. I
really can’t. So what do you suggest we do now?”

“Now? We continue what we’re doing. We help Caligula
retain his throne, and protect him as long as we can. Maybe help
push him in the right direction. I understand Claudius was a far
better emperor than Caligula had been in our original time, but
it’s obvious something has gone wrong with him, so we need to
preserve Caligula. Here’s another question I want you to think
about. What else did Praetorians do besides protect their emperor,
at least after Augustus?”

What else did they do? Was that a trick question?
The only other thing I could think of was that they actually
assassinated their emperors when they weren’t protecting them. What
did that have to do with –

Ah.

“They had a very influential say in who became the
next emperor,” I answered.

“Right. Damage to their loyalty has already been
done during Tiberius’ reign, but we know that the Praetorians were
completely loyal to Augustus. What if they became the stalwart
protectors they were designed to be once again? We may be dealing
with a Praetorian rebellion here, but if Caligula is able to
reestablish control, I have to assume there will be a cleansing of
the guard.”

“So, your plan is to stop the precedent of
Praetorians controlling the ascendancy of the emperors? Make them
into a dedicated bodyguard unit who merely complied, did their
duty, and followed orders?”

“I think that would have an interesting effect on
history. We’re already seeing evidence that it could be possible
with Caligula’s Sacred Band. Three hundred loyal men can go a long
way for an emperor.”

That they could. The historian inside me was
screaming right now. One side told me to preserve our history, and
that if we interfered with it, we’d be no better than those men who
tweaked what they recorded just because no one could stop them.
That voice was too little too late, though, because the other voice
was enthusiastically interested in how things could now turn out.
Maybe I’d even have great epics written, devoted to my life’s
endeavors. They might even make me a god. It worked for Julius
Caesar after all.

“So?” Vincent asked, interrupting my thoughts. “What
do you think we should do now?”

What would I do?

I knew we couldn’t change what we’ve already done.
As far as I knew, there wasn’t any way I could change the past, as
stupidly ironic as that sounds, so I might as well make the best of
it.

I sighed. “I really wish you would have come to me
earlier. We need to work on setting things straight, not change
things for what we perceive may be for the better.”

Vincent stood up, and placed both hands on my
shoulders, a gesture a father would offer his son. “You’re a good
officer, Hunter. Like McDougal said, you are quite the Renaissance
man, intelligent, moral, and not unable to step back and make
rational decisions, not unlike our friend, Caligula. I’m proud to
have had this opportunity to serve with you.”

He held out his hand, which I very slowly
grasped.

“Thanks, I guess. I still can’t believe this and I’m
sure as shit not happy about it, but it is what it is.” A cluster
fuck, basically. “So, what should I tell the others?”

“Tell them what you will, if you feel they truly
want to know. I leave it in your hands now. I know you’ll make the
right decision.

Later that night, after my watch was up, I slipped
into the tent I shared with Helena, who was already in her sleeping
bag. She was fast asleep, so I made every effort not to wake her,
but when my head hit the pillow, her eyes fluttered open.

“I saw you talking with Vincent today,” she said,
her head facing away from me. “Seemed pretty intense. Did you find
the answers you were looking for?”

“Yes.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Anything I should know about?”

I thought about that for a second. She deserved to
know, as do the rest of the guys, but would their knowing really
change anything? They’d just have the same problem I did, with the
worst case scenario being it would undermine Vincent’s authority.
Even though I hardly felt it would come to that, we needed to stick
together, no matter what.

“If I told you, would it change how you felt about
anything?”

“No,” she whispered, half asleep. “Like I said when
we first arrived here, we have to worry about the here and the now.
There’s no way to change what was done, and even if there was the
chance things might have turned out differently, there’s no point
dwelling on it. We just have to make the best of it.”

“You’re a woman after my own heart,” I joked, but I
wasn’t sure if she cracked a smile or not. “I’ll tell you one thing
though: you are right. There is no way to change what happened, but
I don’t think making the best of it is what we need to do.”

“Then what?”

I turned away from her and closed my eyes. “I don’t
know, but I’m going to find out.”

***

Having spoken with Vincent, there was nothing else
to look towards but the upcoming months, which just about brought
me up to the here and now: freezing my ass off on yet another
morning watch.

Only for a short while did Helena and my watch
schedules sync up so we could share the night together, but not
since that night after my talk with Vincent did we manage it. These
days, by the time my shift was finished, it was time to go to
sleep, and when I woke up, she was just finishing her shift, and
was ready for bed herself. It got pretty lonely at times, but at
least as I sat here on the
porta decumana
rampart, freezing
my ass off at three in the morning, I had Santino to keep me
company.