The Twice and Future Caesar (23 page)

Steele felt himself turning to glue. Steele didn't know how she'd found out that he'd asked Augustus for help. That Roman ghoul must have told her. The man was not a man. Augustus was a natural sadist.

Steele had only asked Augustus to revive Cowboy to clear his own conscience. Because Steele had wanted Cowboy dead.

Cowboy was dead. Why was Kerry Blue still hanging her heart on that worthless ass?

Steele growled at her. “I didn't do it for you. I did it for his widow.”

Kerry Blue's freckles got very noticeable. Her face had gone to chalk. She looked like he'd just shot her.

Her voice came out thin. “His what?”

Part of him wanted to shout at her, call her a slut. But he was an officer. Rules of frat said he had no right thinking about what she did in her free time. He was blundering like a jilted, out of line moose.

“Cowboy's wife,” he snarled at her. “His pregnant wife!”

5 Quintilis 2443
Xerxes
The Abyss

Like sailing ships of old, spaceships took time to cross the vastness between shores. Even traveling faster than light it took months just to cross the explored part of the galaxy.

As Romulus' ship crept back toward civilization—crossing the thinly starred region known as the Abyss that stretched between the Sagittarian arm of the galaxy and Near Space—he marked the points so far where the anticipated reality had branched off in different directions. They were small things, most of them. But he, of all people, knew that small things—nano-sized things—could make exponential changes in a pattern.

Merrimack
had been exactly where she was supposed to be, but
Merrimack
had a sister ship,
Monitor
. Where was
Monitor
?

He found her where he thought she should be.
Monitor
was operating in Near Space, close to Earth. There was supposed to be a Roman mole on
Monitor
, serving as a command officer. Romulus couldn't find a record of the mole on board. He couldn't find any record of the man at all. Jorge Medina never existed. That was frightening.

Romulus would not allow himself to be frightened. Uncertainty was a fact of existence. He was a patterner. He would adjust.

What hadn't changed: Romulus' younger self was already gathering loyal followers who would one day call themselves Romulii. He remembered doing that. His younger alter ego was recruiting Legions in Perseid space in his own name without his father's knowledge. One of the smartest things he'd ever done. He had done a lot of things right. Those Legions were still intact and loyal to him. Romulus could use those.

Magnus didn't know about the Perseid Legions, so that useless old man hadn't flushed those brave souls down the Hive's maw with the other sixty-four Legions.

I am the only one in the galaxy alive today who knows there are two Hives.

I am only one who knows the Hive harmonics.

I am the only one who knows what makes the irresistible harmonic irresistible
.

Very well, there was Constantine Siculus remaining at large. Constantine also knew the Hive harmonics. But Constantine was not long for this universe. The assassin missile was on its way hubward, to Constantine's distant lair.

Romulus was the only man alive who knew that resonating the complement of a Hive harmonic exterminated the entire Hive. He knew that because it had been done in the future.

And Romulus knew how to calculate the harmonic of the succeeding Hive generation that hatched after its parent Hive died. He'd got that algorithm from a mole on board
Merrimack
.

His mole wasn't on board
Merrimack
in this timeline. Her name was Geneva Rhine. She had given him all of
Merrimack
's historical logs. But it seemed now that the records that Geneva Rhine gave him in 2448 were not an entirely accurate record of events here and now in the year 2443.

Romulus recognized that his current existence must be a parallel universe, not just a fork in the universe he had known. Events predating his arrival had changed. The idea was terrifying.

He had no time for terror. He needed to account for the differences.

What do people in this year in this universe know of me?

They knew that Romulus was Caesar Magnus' natural son. Leadership in the Roman Empire was not hereditary. But the Empire ran on patronage. The son of Caesar commanded attention. Romulus' status as son of
Caesar gave him a usable allowance and produced a tendency in people to say yes to him.

No one refused Romulus credit. He needn't tap his own existing funds, which was good, because his alter ego might notice the expenditures.

Romulus was still months away from Near Space, but resonance was immediate and everywhere. Resonance knew no spatial distance. Romulus could make transactions and issue orders to Near Space from his Xerxes just as easily as he could from the palace in Nova Roma on Palatine. He need only avoid attracting the notice of his other self. His journey was long, but Romulus had work to do and he didn't need to be on Palatine to get started.

8 July 2443
U.S. Space Battleship
Merrimack
Fort Dwight David Eisenhower
Edge of Sagittarian Space

Merrimack
's crew and half bat of Fleet Marines looked out the portals as the space battleship sublighted for her approach to Fort Eisenhower.

Merrimack
always got a festive welcome at Ike.

Not this time.

The assembled space stations that comprised the fort were dark. No flags. No concert over the fort's channel. There was no light show. Few lights at all. Just reds and greens to tell
Merrimack
where the space lanes were, and the controller's matter-of-fact voice telling her where to go.

It filled the ship with unease.

Everyone knew that the Hive was advancing. But the first spheres, moving at their top speed, wouldn't be here at the space fort for another six years. It seemed a little soon to start mourning. Farragut couldn't even call his ship's reception subdued. It was hostile.

Should the Hive go unchecked, these space stations would be the first U.S. settlements in line to be eaten. National defense needed to find a way to turn back the Hive. Meanwhile they formulated plans to evacuate the fort.

There was already a long line of ships queued up to get into the Shotgun and back to Near Space, and back to Earth.

Lieutenant Colonel Steele could count on Farragut to treat his dogs right. But the captain was a little slow in calling for liberty this time. Steele sought him out at the change of the watch. “Captain, are my men getting any R and R?”

“Not here, TR.”

Steele withheld an expression of disapproval. The Fleet Marines always got liberty at the space forts. They really needed it now. The soldiers were battle-scarred and in mourning. They'd taken to leaving notes and candy on their dead friends' preservation pods.

Marines bounced back quickly if you let them out to play. They lived fast, played hard, and then they were ready for the next fight.

Steele saw them gazing toward the lights in the portholes, hopeful as dogs holding their leashes in their mouths.

Farragut must have heard Steele gearing up for a protest, because he said, “You don't want to let your dogs ashore here, TR. This is grim. You're not hearing the com chat.”

It had got ugly. Com pundits were demanding that
Merrimack
go back and help the planets in the Myriad battle the Hive invasion. The voices were calling on all stations in Fort Ike not to let
Merrimack
personnel debark at their facilities.

Fort Dwight David Eisenhower issued its own statement advising that any space station found turning away U.S. soldiers must detach and depart from the space fort at once under its own power. The Shotgun was forbidden to it.

Farragut told Steele, “Ike is no place to walk your dogs. Mine either. Wait till we get to Fort Ted. I'm fixin' to push us to the head of this line into the Shotgun. Don't much care whose head I gotta kick. We'll be there.”

“Sir?” Steele began, then waited for permission to speak further.

“Go ahead, TR.”

“This is a U.S. fort.”

Fort Ike was a huge trading post, operating under the protection of the United States military. Its international constellation of space stations depended on the Shotgun for commercial traffic.

“Why are we letting the LEN say anything at all?” Steele asked.

“We're a member of the LEN,” Farragut said.

Steele drew in his chin. “We
are?
”

For allies, you really just wanted to shoot them.

Steele then asked, “Permission to go ashore, sir?”

“Purpose?”

“Foraging.”

“Go. Make it fast. Watch your back.”

Steele collected LEN glowers in Fort Ike. To hell with them. He was on a mission. He saw what the captain was talking about. Too many refugees here. Too much LEN.

He completed his objective and returned to
Merrimack
chased by slugs.

Steele felt all the eyes on him as he stepped into the forecastle. He'd rather be going into battle than face this lot with this news.

“Are we getting out of the can, sir?” a Marine asked. Sounded like Shasher Wyatt. Might've been his twin, Dumbell.

At least Steele's dogs didn't look all that hopeful this time, so he wouldn't be disappointing them bitterly.

They had eyes. They could see what was out the portholes.

Steele gave one quick shake of his head. “Cap'n says the party's at Fort Ted.”

His eyes flicked toward a porthole, to the darkness outside.

He spoke without looking at anyone. “Flight Sergeant Blue. Report to hydroponics at 2045.” And he was out through the hatch.

Kerry Blue's eyes got big. She exchanged stares with her mates. Her voice came out pitched way high. “What now? What did I
do?
”

Hydroponics? She thought quickly. What could be in hydroponics? “Oh, shitska. He's gonna make me beach my lizard plant!”

“Aw, no!” little Reg cried. “You don't really think so.”

“What else could it be?”

Kerry had got the lizard plant on the planet Arra. The ruler of the world gave it to her. It was a sweet little guy—the lizard plant was. The Archon was okay too.

“The Old Man can't make me set my little guy ashore, can he?”

Big fat long pause.

Icky Iverson blurted, “He might.”

Really might. What else could he want with her in hydroponics? “What time is it now?”

“You got seven minutes,
chica
.”

“I gotta go.”

Kerry Blue ran up decks, shot up the ladders, hauled herself through the hatch into the moist brightness of hydroponics. Inhaled to announce herself.

Steele wasn't here yet.

Kerry Blue was alone with the vegetation. The large compartment was misty and warm, filled with light and oxygen.

A light weight settled on her shoulder. A webby foot touched her cheek. Her lizard plant crooned in her ear.

Poor little guy was gonna be the only one of its kind. She'd wished ever since they'd left Arra that she'd brought a friend for it. She was lucky to have this one. A wobble started in her throat. Steele was going to take her big-eyed green friend away.

At 2045 hours the hatch opened. Kerry Blue came to attention.

Kerry's lizard plant climbed to the top of her head. It was quivering wildly.

Yeah, the Old Man could be a real scary guy. Kerry stood rigid.

Steele advanced stiffly up the row, carrying a bunch of leaves in one big hand. Funny how red Steele looked under the cool lights.

He set the green leafy bunch down in a row of lettuce under the nearest sprinkler. Grunted. “Here.”

Within the bunch of leaves, two round soulful eyes opened. The tightly wrapped leaves relaxed in a motion like a sigh. Now Kerry could see the tail, the legs.

“Oh!” She couldn't talk, too joyful. She gushed, “How? How did you do this!”