The Last Roman (Praetorian Series - Book One) (58 page)

When the guard was clearly out of sight, I pulled
Helena’s grappling hook and rope from her MOLLE vest once again,
and placed the hook on the floor near the corner, and tossed the
rope out over the inner wall. The corner was pitch black so we had
no insecurities about standing out against the lightly colored
stone wall.

When Helena’s boots hit the grass without a sound, I
flicked the rope hard to dislodge the hook, taking a step forward
to ensure it didn’t fall on me. I secured the hook and rope to
Helena’s rig once again and we moved off into the small city.

There might have been a thousand rows of tents, each
containing eight sleeping men, and I had no idea how many tents
there were per row. To find our way through, we simply picked a
narrow avenue in one of the denser areas of the camp and slowly
made our way towards the center, looking for a potential
interrogation candidate.

Our first candidate appeared almost immediately. A
man stumbled out of his tent nearly on top of us, muttering about
how he really had to use the bathroom. Helena moved first and
tackled him to the ground, covering his mouth in one quick motion.
I knelt beside him and pushed my small boot knife against his
throat.

“Galba,” I whispered into his ear. “Where is his
tent?”

The man’s eyes were filled with shock, wide open and
unbelieving, as though he were witnessing an apparition before him.
He trembled and I heard the sound of running water beneath me. I
glanced down to see that the man had urinated himself. Helena
looked down as well, just in time to shift her knee out of the way.
She looked back up at me with a roll of her eyes.

“Galba!?” I whispered with some force this time,
driving my knife deep enough to draw a droplet of blood.

The legionnaire shook his head vigorously, his eyes
wide with terror. Helena moved her hand just slightly. “Two tents
behind the
praetorium
, three in the direction of the
porta decumana
.”

I nodded. “Thanks. You’re helpfulness won’t go
unrewarded.”

Helena covered his mouth again, and I shot him with
a tranq dart before he could do something stupid. She looked at me
with wide, agitated eyes, not finding my parting words as humorous
as I did. We waited a few seconds for the affects to take hold and
I removed the dart. I rolled him near the entrance to his tent with
the shove of my boot. A random passerby wouldn’t suspect any foul
play, just another drunk passed out on the ground, and he’d
probably be too out of it when he woke up to remember us.

I flicked my fingers towards the
praetorium
and we carefully stalked our way through the camp carefully. It
took us about fifteen minutes, but we eventually crossed the
via
principalis
, the trickiest part of the whole thing. Traffic
wasn’t heavy, but there were guards posted everywhere. If not for a
few parlor tricks Santino had taught us about creating diversions
and dividing and conquering, this operation would have been over
almost before it began.

But we were lucky, and our insertion seemed complete
when we found ourselves in front of the tent the man had indicated
was Galba’s. I glanced at my watch. 0330. We had a few hours before
the army started its daily hustle and bustle. I followed Helena as
she reached the tent’s entrance and gave the camp one last look
around. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary so I patted her on the
shoulder and followed her inside.

I stepped into a large open space, littered with
mobile furniture and storage containers scattered throughout in a
haphazard manner. After a second to take in my surroundings, I went
directly to the bed. Looking down, I saw the fat face of the ugly
man I knew to be Galba. I never could figure out how his head
always looked so fat, even though his body stayed in the tip top
shape of any legionnaire.

Helena and I exchanged nods. I bent over and clasped
a gloved hand over his thick lips.

His eyes shot open, but he didn’t flinch, try to
escape, or utter a noise. In his eyes I saw immediate recognition,
even with our concealing facemasks. He was one of the few people
who truly knew who we were. I held a finger vertically over my
covered mouth, and waited for him to nod in understanding. When he
did, I slowly removed my hand.

“You,” he growled. “I should have you arrested and
crucified. I’ve just received word from the empress that you have
officially been charged with the murder of Caligula.” He narrowed
his eyes at me.

I cocked my head to the side and looked at Helena.
Her indecipherable figure shrugged. That was news to us. I’d always
wondered why she hadn’t pegged that one on us years ago, but I
guess it had to have been just a matter of time.

Interesting timing, though.

I pulled off my mask, revealing a face I knew was
familiar to him, and stood up straight.

“Servius. I need you to listen to me.”

“Listen to you?! Why should I do that you traitorous
murderer?”

I leaned down and whispered, “Servius, do you really
think we killed Caligula?”

Galba looked at the foot of his bed before looking
back at us. He then shifted positions so that he was sitting up,
and crossed his arms over his chest. It gave him the appearance of
a chubby, stubborn two year old.

“No,” he said, “I don’t. You are many things, but I
always considered you loyal to Caligula, and since you didn’t try
to usurp power for yourself after his death, I see no motive.”

Helena pulled off her own mask and pulled her very
long hair from beneath the back of her vest.

“Listen to him, Galba,” she said. “You may not want
believe what he has to tell you, but you need to trust us.”

I looked over at Helena, who had cleaned up since
our time in the tavern, and was back to the ravishing green eyed
beauty I’d always known her to be.

“So you brought your woman,” Galba commented as he
looked around. “Of course you did. Where is the funny one? I
actually liked him to a point.”

I’m sure Santino will be ecstatic.

“Servius,” I pressed, “what I’m about to tell you
will sound ridiculous, outlandish, and frankly impossible, but I
need you to keep an open mind.”

“Why do you keep calling me Servius?” He asked, his
eyes suddenly suspicious. “My name is Lucius, not Servius.”

“No, it’s not,” I said sternly. “Your name is
Servius Sulpicius Galba. You took the name Lucius Livius Ocella
Sulpicius Galba from your step mother and her family, who loved you
dearly and raised you as one of their own.” I saw his eyes widen in
surprise. “Now, let me tell you another story. One about you, me,
Rome, its future and how I need your help to ensure its very
survival.”

If you’re interested in Edward Crichton’s
upcoming Sci-Fi epic
Starfarer: Rendezvous with
Destiny
, keep reading for a sneak peek at the first few
chapters.

INCOMING TRANSMISSION . .
.

TO: John Paul Sterling, Admiral,
Allied Space Navy (ASN)

FROM: Alexander Mosley, First High
Admiral, Allied Space Navy (ASN)

ORIGINAL REPORT: Richard Alderman,
Colonel, Office of Strategic Space Intelligence (OSSI) – Original
Report Attached

SECURITY LEVEL:
CLASSIFIED

XXXXX - XXXXXXXXXX -
XXXXX

SUBJECT: Anomalous ISLAND Activity
– Action Required

SENT: 11.13.2595
(11:20:11)

AUTHENTICATION CODE:
Echo Echo Bravo Zero Zero Seven Echo

Admiral John Paul
Sterling,

This could be big, J.P., so I’ll
dispense with the usual pleasantries. Word has been sent to OSSI
that our Chinese friends have encountered an anomaly along ISLAND
Transit Route AlphaCOL–BetaCOL. The spooks haven’t been able to get
anything specific out of the Chinese yet, but it has The Star
Destiny Corporation, at least, very concerned.

They’re going to lose contact with
the ISLAND Liner
Sierra Madre
on the aforementioned course very soon, and while
OSSI isn’t saying much, we could be talking about another rumored
contact with alien technology aboard an ISLAND. That or they may
have simply experienced their first mishap with WeT
Tech.

Consider this your unofficial
readiness report. Prepare the Third Fleet for immediate
redeployment back to Earth and launch the
Alcestis
as soon as possible. I
don’t think I need to remind you to keep your wits about you, John
Paul. There’s more at play here than even I’m aware of, and I can’t
offer you much more advice than that. This won’t be some silly sim
we mucked about with back at the Academy. Something big is about to
happen and something about it stinks.

Regards,

First High Admiral Alexander
Mosley, ASN

Admiralty Board, Chair

Washington Aerospace Naval
Headquarters, Luna

P.S. Should we get through
whatever this thing is, I’ll get you a case of that ancient Jamison
swill you love so much.

<<<<< SEE ATTACHED
FILE FOR ORIGINAL REPORT >>>>>

High Earth Orbit /

ISLAND
Liner
Sierra
Madre
– Red Zone
/

Power Conduction Shaft – Delta /

11.06.2595

07:35:08 Zulu

That which defines man is nothing more than what he
leaves behind. In no other way will he be remembered when his
presence in this universe becomes little more than dust to aid in
the formation of new celestial bodies, and the onset of space
travel centuries ago only added to this legacy. Later, the ability
to travel to other planets cemented it. If every human in existence
simply vanished from reality, the ISLAND Liner
Sierra Madre
would remain, drifting through the depths of space for time
immemorial.

And whoever finds it will think it little more than
a hulking piece of junk.

Senior Chief of Electronics Dhaval Jaheed knew that
was unfair assessment of a large portion of the ISLAND, but the in
the presence of so many undocumented, unbundled, ungrounded, and
unfamiliar wires, connectors, cables, circuits, and other forms of
electronic mayhem before him gave him pause to curse the wretched
ship. It was a safety inspector’s worst nightmare, and the Red Zone
was already an extremely dangerous, almost mystical, place,
quarantined from entrance by all ISLAND passengers and staff.

Senior Chiefs never sent technicians into the area,
mostly because they never needed to, but the occasion had arisen
today, much to the dread of every technician under Dhaval’s
supervision. His rank of ISLAND Senior Chief of Electronics gave
him seniority over every electrician or technician aboard the
Sierra Madre
, and made him the only person he was willing to
send into such a hazardous portion of the ship. The rest of them
were all back in the Green Zone, the outer layer of the ship that
surrounded the Red Zone like an egg encasing its yolk.

Despite knowing it was in his best interest to focus
on his work, it was difficult for Dhaval not to wonder exactly what
kind of genius would let something as important as an ISLAND Liner
fall into such disarray. ISLANDs were the sole means of
transportation to Earth’s colonies, and the only way to keep
humanity’s presence amongst the stars connected. The mess he was in
now was a disgrace to mechanics, technicians, electricians, and
engineers alike, but he supposed that’s what happened after
hundreds of years of neglect.

“Find the breaker yet, Chief?” Asked an unwelcome
voice that infiltrated every recess of his mind. It came so
suddenly that Dhaval stumbled from his perch overlooking the exact
breaker box he had in fact been searching for. He shot his hand out
to seize the nearest stabilizing handle, only to have it break away
from the shaft in his grip. His life was spared by a safety cable
that secured his belt to a ladder rung – which amazingly held firm.
Dhaval dangled there for a few moments, his forehead glistening
with sweat as he stared down the conduction shaft, noticing the
green safety lights fixed to the wall descend only about ten meters
before becoming overwhelmed in darkness. The shaft descended for
hundreds of kilometers, all the way to the Core, but few knew what
was down there.

Dhaval touched a red button on his exo-suit, and a
small object shot out from a mechanism on his back. The magnetic
wafer attached itself to the metal wall and reeled him back into a
standing position upon his perch. Once upright, he deactivated the
magnetic anchor and took a deep breath as it recoiled.

“Chief?” Came the disjointed voice in his head
again, somewhat more worried.

Dhaval gritted his teeth in frustration and keyed
his com. “This is Senior Chief Jaheed. I’ve found the conduit.
Initiating repairs now.”

“Copy that, Chief. Be careful down there. Some of
that equipment could be a hundred years old.”

Dhaval paused for the briefest of seconds in
frustration before returning to his work.

As far as he knew, he was the first person to visit
this realm of the ISLAND since the last round of ship wide upgrades
and renovations that had expanded the
Sierra Madre’s
overall
size and mass to its current level. There may have been the riff
raff and Unwanteds who had inherited the bowls of the ship over the
past few centuries, but even they were smart enough to stay out of
the conduction shafts and rarely breached the Red Zone.