The Twice and Future Caesar (33 page)

26 October 2443
U.S. Battleship
Merrimack
Earth orbit
Near Space

It was mid watch on the
Merrimack
.

The ship was quiet except for her guns. You didn't even really notice those anymore. You missed them when they were silent.

A loud
crack
of displacement broke the pseudo-quiet.

Hamster flinched. Her eyes shut themselves against the splatter of droplets. Alarms sounded, telling her what was already obvious. Perimeter breach. Displacement event. Inside
Merrimack
.

Gorgon bits splattered all the surfaces of the command platform. The pieces immediately melted into black liquid.

Crew spat residue off their lips and blinked their eyes clear of the stinging ooze.

The captain's voice sounded over the intercom. “Hamster! What are you doing to my boat!”

“Gorgons tried to displace aboard, sir.”

“Intact?”

“Oh,
no
, sir. Jammers are working very, very well.”

Displacement jammers didn't repel. They disrupted, so the gorgon arrived the farthest state from intact.

“It may have been just one gorgon. I don't think they'll be trying that again.” Glenn wanted to clean off her nose, but there wasn't a clean thing anywhere on the command deck with which to wipe. Every surface—deck grate, console, display, crewman, MP, the overhead, lighting instrument, hair, uniform, dog, terrarium—was flecked with black ooze.

Lieutenant Hamilton summoned a squad of Marines to the command platform to clean the deck and bring her a fresh uniform.

26 October 2443
Xerxes
FTL

Romulus, secure inside his Xerxes, knew fear. Thanks to LEN bungling, gorgons had learned to spontaneously displace themselves. The Hive had found its way to Earth. Now, gorgons were coming in swarms of alarming size. They were ravaging grain fields and attacking flocks and wildlife. Romulus never wanted that. He'd only wanted the
threat
of that. Not the reality. This was horrendous.

His most powerful weapon had slipped his control.

How had it come to this? The gorgons' ability to displace themselves came as a shock. There had never been any indication that they could spontaneously displace. Somehow they had learned. And now they were on Earth.

Romulus did not want to rule a dead world.

His assumptions and conclusions were only as good as his input. He'd been lacking critical information. He hadn't noticed the knowledge missing. He assumed he had all of it. Now he knew that he didn't. He was a patterner. He should not be miscalculating.

He'd come here assuming he had complete knowledge of all events in the past. But the past was different from the one he knew.
The past had changed
.

Time was not a line.

He was not prepared for this.

Claudia waltzed into the cabin, breathless and smiling, dressed all in sporty white, and twirling a skinny racquet. “Come play badminton with me and the Oxfords. I don't know who programmed them, but they're cheating.”

Her face was shining.

Romulus disconnected from patterner mode, like stepping off a bullet. His thoughts slowed, left him nauseated for a moment. Then he rose and kissed his sister's brow. He spoke thickly. “Give me a moment, my sweet.”

He sat down again and reengaged patterning.

Romulus' lightning thoughts returned to his crisis. He processed the ramifications of this gorgon infestation on Earth. He had the ability to destroy the present Hive in an instant. Doing so would save the world—and leave him powerless. Not an acceptable trade.

He must use this turn of events to his advantage.

Hive presence on Earth could give him the opportunity to show his might. And show the inadequacy of the armed forces of the United States.

The U.S. Fleet Marines were fighting the invading cells nonstop. The LEN also. They were losing.

Good.

Meanwhile Romulus could organize protection for his government in exile on Beta Centauri. Beta Centauri could resonate on the Hive harmonic, sending the signal the gorgons emitted when they had exhausted edible targets.

The Hive would sense there was nothing to eat on Beta Centauri, and the gorgons would withdraw. That would show Romulus' power.

He would then devise and distribute protection for his followers on a person-by-person basis.

The rest of humanity on Earth and in Near Space would need to beg. He didn't need their adoration. He could do with their loathing as long as he had their abject mortal dread.

And Romulus still had another weapon in his arsenal. The irresistible harmonic—the harmonic of the second Hive, rival to this one. He could leverage one Hive against the other.

Swarms of the rival Hive had not come to Near Space yet. But they might. And they would, if Romulus needed them to be here.

All was not lost. He realized that now. In fact, the Hive presence on Earth was a good thing. It gave an urgency missing before now.

Earth was out of time. Earth needed a savior. Right now. Even if they hated Romulus, people would beg for their children's sake.

Romulus unplugged his cables and looked at Claudia. He took her hand. She tugged for him to come.

Claudia had not been happy here on Beta Centauri. People outside the Italian embassy acted differently around her. They were as cheerful and funny as if they were perched on a nest of scorpions. So Romulus programmed the Xerxes with exciting settings and populated those settings with spirited, witty people to flatter her, bold courtiers for her to tease, and sassy confidantes for her to talk to. She was happy again. She wanted him to come play.

His first impulse was to continue planning his next moves. But he needed to keep perspective. Claudia wanted to play. This is what it was all for. The Empire, for her.

The universe could wait.

He kissed Claudia's hand. “Lead on. We must trounce those despicable Oxfords.”

28 October 2443
U.S. Space Battleship
Merrimack
Earth orbit
Near Space

Caesar Numa Pompeii had no intention of attending the upcoming funeral services for the United States' fallen President, because Caesar refused to acknowledge the U.S. as a separate nation from Rome.

Neither did Numa offer assistance to Earth in her present invasion crisis, even though Earth was the wellspring of all humanity, the mother world of the Empire, the site of the Eternal City of Rome. Caesar ought to show an interest.

On the command platform of the
Merrimack
, Jose Maria wondered out loud, “Why does Caesar not act?”

Commander Calli Carmel answered. “He is acting. Numa is doing a calculated nothing.”

In between the wars, young Calli Carmel had been a student of Numa Pompeii at the Imperial Military Institute. She had always been beneath Numa's notice—a ridiculously pretty distraction in Numa's opinion, who ought to ornament a rich man's arm.

“Numa is doing nothing because he
can
. His predecessor lost
sixty-four Roman Legions
to the Hive. Numa has the power to levy fresh troops from the colonies, but he knows what they've already lost. He still has his Praetorian Guard to defend Palatine in case Palatine comes under attack. But he's not going to spend his own people to defend Earth unless it looks like we're going to fail.”

Alone of all places on planet Earth the city of Rome was not under gorgon assault. The city of Rome existed in a bubble of immunity not of Caesar Numa's making, and Numa didn't make the mistake of trying to take credit for that Passover. He would not confess to not having powers that Romulus had.

“Numa can afford to wait.”

“We can't,” Farragut said. “The Hive is here.”

“May I request shore leave, Captain?”

“
Shore leave?
What are you up to, Cal?”

“I'd like to attend President Johnson's funeral.”

She was going to kick Caesar Numa in the strength and honor.

The Imperial Information network was bound to carry coverage of President Marisa Johnson's state funeral.

A decorated veteran of Hive combat, and drop-dead stunning to look at, Commander Calli Carmel was able to get an appearance on the galactic mass media. She had a minute.

Calli appeared before a resonator. “President Marisa Johnson was a fearless commander in chief who never caved to extortion. She was a leader who gave her life for her beliefs.

“Today, in contrast, Caesar Numa Pompeii shows his Empire what he's actually made of. See him sitting back and letting others fight for the survival of the cradle of civilization. America may have been founded as a Roman colony, but America has risen above that. Even now, Caesar can depend on America to defend the birthplace of Rome for him. It's a hell of a thing to have delegated to us. But we, these United States, are up to the task. President Johnson's America continues to defend Earth, including Roman soil, regardless of Caesar's failure of will.”

She thought her speech went well, but who was she kidding? Numa would make it a point not to listen to her, if he was even aware of her appearance on the galactic news net.

It wasn't Numa who heard her. It was Rome.

Within days, eight Roman colonial worlds announced their intent to secede from the Empire, and dozens more had it under discussion. Rome's colonies had been levied to ruin by Magnus. They'd lost sixty-four Legions without any explanation and without bodies to bury. Now they were shamed by Palatine's failure to control the alien invasion of Earth. Rome's colonial planets demanded home rule.

Caesar Numa Pompeii came out like Moses with a commandment-smashing speech for the ages. Pundits were calling it his Sinai Address. Numa Pompeii had an almighty presence and a deep booming resonant voice. Worlds quaked when he spoke. You weren't sure whether to say Hail Caesar or Amen.

Numa promised that the insurrection of pretender Romulus would be brief. “This is not a civil war. Romulus' followers are not lawful belligerents.
Romulus is a terrorist who wields a weaponized plague. His adherents are a handful of criminals. Romulus is worthy of only our utmost loathing and a quick termination. And any Roman world that attempts to secede from the Empire will reap the fate of Romulus.

“There is one single united Empire of Rome. If you are not with me, you are against me, and make no mistake, I am Rome.”

Neither was Numa calling the Hive menace a war. There was no honor in that enemy. He branded the incursion a “wildfire.” This enemy consumed everything and left only devastation. Numa called all able Romans forward as firefighters.

Farragut caught a glance pass between his XO and Colonel Augustus. Augustus looked whimsical. Calli was round-eyed.

“What?” Captain Farragut demanded, missing some significance.

“Word choice,” Calli said.

“What of it?”

Augustus answered, “‘Wildfire' this time. Instead of ‘plague.' Fire is much sexier, don't you think?”

“More heroic,” Calli said.

Numa's speech went on. “The nations of Earth are inadequate to defend the cradle of humanity. Only the will and might of Rome can prevail. As for our renegade colony, America, we shall put down that rebellion after the wildfire is suppressed. Rule of Earth requires there to be an Earth. Rome, this is your hour. Step forward.”

Watching the broadcast finish, Calli had her palms pressed together before her lips as if praying. “I may be sorry I woke that dragon. Numa's Legions will be coming here.”

“What Legions?”

“He will have them! Oh, John. Have I just screwed up?”

“Maybe,” Farragut said. “But Numa said one thing right. Ownership of Earth requires there to be an Earth. I look forward to beating the
merda
out of him and his Legions when we're done fighting the Hive.”

1 November 2443
Near Space

The flags were still at half-staff for President Johnson. The rain of gorgons from above the atmosphere intensified.

The U.S. State Department called out Romulus in a universal broadcast. “We know that Romulus assassinated President Johnson. Romulus must surrender himself and answer for his crime.”

Romulus answered publicly, “Assassinated? We didn't assassinate President Johnson. We killed her. Since when is the commander in chief of the armed forces of a nation at war not a military target?”

Shocked that Romulus confessed, the Secretary of State responded directly over a tight beam. “Marisa Johnson
might
have been a legitimate target if the United States were at war. These United States are not at war with Rome, and you, sir, are not a nation. Your kangaroo declaration has no effect. Surrender or be chased down like a common felon.”

Romulus took his case to his galactic audience. “People of all worlds. Do not obey those who lead you to slaughter for the purpose of maintaining their own positions. Convince your keepers to stop resisting my rightful rule. Your leaders are killing you. I am here to restore Rome. Protection against the Hive is available for the asking. From me. The Hive respects absolute power. I have that power.”

Romulus' offer of protection required the suppliant to make a pilgrimage to Romulus' government in exile on Beta Centauri and submit to a rite of Confirmation in an anointed Roman Catholic church, there to swear on bended knee allegiance to the true Rome and to Rome's true and only Imperator, Romulus
Quem Dei Adorant
.

Romulus Whom Gods Adore.

“The Hive respects absolute power. I have it.”

Romulus' protection was not transferable. Half of the protection resided in a holy medal that the suppliant must wear. The medal was useless without the other part of the protection, which was a harmonic substance injected into the suppliant's bloodstream and keyed to one's unique genetic signature. Neither part—the medal nor the injection—was useful without the other. And there was no reading the protective harmonic off of either part. The protection could not be reverse engineered.