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Authors: Mark Henrikson

BOOK: Centurion's Rise
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“Mother Nature took my body when she was ready and returned it to the soil from which it came,” Goron instructed.  “The death of my body
replenished the circle of life so it may continue.  I didn’t like the timing, but I will respect Mother Nature’s wisdom on the matter.”

“Your consciousness lives on,” Hastelloy countered.  “By your logic, Mother Nature meant for it to die along with the body.  Did she not? ”

“A life force has no value in nature,” Goron replied.  “It has no mass, consumes no energy or resources.  Losing a life force does not benefit Mother Nature.”

“What a load of r
ationalized nonsense.  Admit it; you Alpha are a pack of hypocrites.  Your entire ideology of hating the Novi as ‘unnatural beings’ is flawed because you do the exact same thing; you defy nature.”

“We revere Mother Nature and serve her interests with every action we take,” Goron snapped.  “Preserving a life force without a body serves her by allowing the collective experience of my people to live on and improve the world around them by imparting their knowledge onto the living bodies Mother Nature continues to create.”

“So that’s what you’re doing with Caesar and the people of Rome?” Hastelloy asked with as much irony as he could force into his words.  “You’re imparting your knowledge onto these people to better their lives; how generous.”

“No,” Goron said with pride.  “I am selfishly using the primitive superstitions of these creatures to control their hearts and minds to take over this planet.  I hold the puppet strings of millions who willingly do my bidding.”

“Hmm, it’s lucky for me I have a sharp dagger to cut those strings whenever necessary,” Hastelloy said.  “How did it feel to lose your featured performer?”

“You gloat about murdering Caesar, an innocent man?” Goron asked.

“Caesar was many things, but innocent was not one of them.  Whether he was acting under your influence or not, Caesar’s ambitious nature would have led him down the same self-serving path.”

“True,” Goron conceded, “but with my help and guidance he went light years down that path rather than a few meaningless steps.  Caesar’s loss was a pity, but not to worry.  Another
who is equally ambitious will follow in his footsteps.”

“You take entirely too much pleasure in manipulating people,” Hastelloy sighed.  “Don’t you see the evil in what you do?”

“Is it evil to domesticate cattle and force them to work in the fields?  Humans are primitive beasts put on this planet by Mother Nature to aid me in defeating you.  And don’t go pretending you’re above using these creatures for your purposes.  I may not have a body, but I do have informants.  You are every bit the puppeteer I am.”

“A puppeteer has absolute control over his subject,” Hastelloy countered.  “I operate more like the conductor of an orchestra.  All the instruments, music and musicians are put in the right place to do the right things, but in the end they have the autonomy to follow my lead or not.  Sometimes the result is beauty, other
times it’s calamity, but it is always a result of actions done of their choosing.”

“Think on it however you
like, it’s still manipulation; a simple matter of motivation.  Most simpletons do my bidding for the promise of their god’s favor in the next life.  Others do it for the reward of power and riches my guidance brings them in this life.  Both get the job done don’t you think?”

Hastelloy said nothing as he looked about the room, inspecting every square inch of the walls, searching for anything out of the ordinary.  He knew from prior experience the life force was not all knowing or seeing.  The relic containing Goron’s life force was within his reach in this chamber and this was his best chance to end the Alpha threat on this planet once and for all.

“Come on, Captain, you know I’m right or do you need another lesson from me on the subject of manipulation?” Goron asked.

“After being alive for over 10,000 years there is nothing a child like you has to teach me,” Hastelloy
admonished while continuing to carefully inspect his surroundings.

“Oh really,” Goron said in surprise.  “How is that brilliant engineer you used so effectively back in Egypt working out for you?  Are you finding him a bit distracted, a bit uncooperative in following the lead his conductor
has given?

“I have so enjoyed turning your own man against you,” Goron bragged.  “Did you seriously think you could sneak your man into Caesar’s inner circle without notice, especially one so ahead of his time in strategy and tactics?  He stuck out like a sore paw, but I kept him around because I knew I could use him.”

Goron paused to enjoy his boastful moment.  “You know, for a species that holds itself to be so enlightened and above material things, that particular Novan was disturbingly easy to bring under my influence.”

“Tomal doesn’t believe you’re a god,” Hastelloy said as he got to his feet and paced around the perimeter of the room with his hand dragging along the wall at waist height.

“Correct.  He doesn’t respond to the promise of things to come in the next life.  He does react very nicely to riches and power in the current life.  I have basic religion at my disposal to motivate the masses.  For the rest, I have extreme wealth and power to dole out and secure their obedience.  You should just surrender now, Captain; the game is already over.”

“Over,” Hastelloy repeated.  “We’re just getting started.  You’re far too young and naïve to realize faith is a fragile thing.  One day they will love you and do anything for you.  The next, a loved one may die, and they blame you for their loss.  They will question their faith or even violently turn against it.”

“Religion and faith is an evolving thing, I’ll grant you that,” Goron said.  “But superstitious people always seek guidance from the divine for things they do not control or understand, and I will always be there to serve that role.  I’ll be there to motivate them, guilt them, humiliate them, or abuse them into doing my bidding.  Whatever you do to stop me, I will always be one step ahead because you can defeat a body, but a spirit that inhabits the hearts and minds of everyone around you can never be beaten.”

Hastelloy came to a full stop in the middle of the left side wall; he’d found what he was searching for.  While Goron carried on about his superiority and grand plans, Hastelloy took out Caesar’s toga clasp once more and pressed it into a circular indentation his hand found along the wall. 

In front of the desk, in the middle of the wall directly opposite the ladder, a three foot by three foot section of the wall slid open to reveal a metallic flame flowing in mid air against a window that overlooked the temple’s interior.  Hastelloy dashed for the flame but as his hand swung forward to grab the relic, it dropped through a trap door that opened underneath.

Hastelloy’s hand passed though open air as he heard Goron holler up from the shaft his relic vanished into.  “I’ll always be one step ahead of you, Captain.  Get used to it.”

Hastelloy let loose a grunt of frustration and punched the window along the back wall of the compartment.  The glass shattered causing dozens of lacerations along Hastelloy’s fist and forearm. 

Once Hastelloy regained control of his temper, he used his other hand to pick up a piece of the broken glass.  He flipped it over to reveal a reflective surface on the other side.  It was a two way mirror Goron used to see into the temple while not allowing anyone to see into his hiding place.

Through the now uncovered window overlooking the temple’s interior, Hastelloy saw one of the support columns directly beneath where Goron’s relic had disappeared.  He quickly pulled his head back in and extinguished the floor lamps when he noticed several priests of Jupiter starting to assemble fifty feet below on the main temple floor. 

“You won this round, Goron,” Hastelloy said as he rapidly rolled up the pages from the desk and made his way back to the ladder.  He tucked the parchment pages under his
tunic, got a running start and jumped off the roof and easily grabbed a nearby branch on the tree he used to access the temple roof earlier.  He quickly made his way down the tree trunk to the ground and disappeared without a trace into the darkness before the priests or search parties had time to figure out what just happened.

Chapter
37:  Inheritance

 


No one’s found
that traitor?” Tomal hollered at the top of his lungs while his six advisors stood with heads buried in their chests.  “The rat was trapped.  Every citizen and slave in the Republic was scouring the city and countryside to collect the one million sesterces reward I offered.  His own mother would have turned him in for that amount of coin.  How in the name of the gods did he just slip away?  Men don’t just vanish, someone knows something.  ”

No one moved a muscle or uttered a word for fear of incurring Tomal’s wrath.

“Well?” Tomal screamed.

“There were hundreds of arrests, and dozens of summary executions, but none were the right man,” the tallest of the advisors finally said and instantly braced for a physical assault he knew would follow.

“Incompetent buffoons,” Tomal shouted with a dismissive flip of his hand.  “Do whatever it takes.  Bribe, torture, or double the bounty.  I really don’t care how it gets done.  Find Senator Brutus or there will be six more summary executions.  Am I in any way unclear?”

To emphasize his point, Tomal hurled his half full cup of wine at the tall advisor who spoke earlier.  The container connected with the man’s shoulder and drenched his otherwise clean toga with red wine.

“Leave,” Tomal snapped.

With his eyes, Tomal followed the six men out of his office.  He was about to enjoy a few moments of solitude when another individual came in through the doorway.  Tomal looked at the 19 year old with unbridled contempt.  “Ah, the prodigal whore returns.  Valnor, you really must be something in bed to merit Caesar giving you everything for your services.”

Tomal paced over to a side credenza and poured himself another glass of wine and then raised it toward Valnor in a mock toast, “Be proud.”

Valnor shuffled his way to the room’s center and clasped his hands behind his back.  In a wavering voice he addressed Tomal, “When will the funds be released to me?  I . . . I have plans for some of it.”

“Plans?” Tomal repeated.  “Like helping a certain criminal escape the dragnet I have surrounding this city.  I will not help you aid an enemy of the state.”

“I have no idea where Hastelloy is hiding and have no intention of helping him.  Regardless, by law you must release the funds to me.  Caesar named me his heir,” Valnor protested.

“Law?” Tomal repeated.  He set his cup of wine on the credenza and stormed over to Valnor and stopped six inches away from his nose.  “I am Prefect of Rome, the law is what I declare.”

“The Senate makes the laws, you just enforce them,” Valnor managed to squeak out while failing to maintain eye contact.

“Come here,” Tomal said and grabbed Valnor by the back of the neck to force him over to the window overlooking a field that held an entire legion of soldiers encamped on the grounds.  The main courtyard was alive with activity.  Five hundred men drilled in phalanx formation.  Another hundred practiced hand to hand combat.  Several hundred archers busied themselves hitting targets, and a large contingent of cavalry circled the courtyard, breaking into a full speed charge periodically.

“That army, and two more just like it, surround the city and enforce
the laws I tell them to enforce.”

“But the money is mine, the whole city witnessed it,” Valnor whimpered.

Tomal whipped Valnor around by the arm to face him once more.  “I hold Caesar’s inheritance in the treasury, and possession is nine tenths of the law young man, especially when I have three armies protecting my interests.  The inheritance is mine.”

Valnor looked as though he was about to protest, but Tomal beat him to the punch – literally.  He delivered a hard right-handed blow to Valnor’s nose, which sent him to the ground on all fours.  Tomal grabbed hold of Valnor’s toga and pulled the stunned young man upright again.  Then he delivered three more rapid blows to the jaw.  Valnor collapsed backwards to the ground and made no attempt at getting up.  He just silently cupped his face with both hands.

“You’re pathetic, do you know that?” Tomal said towering over his victim.  “This is a game for grown men, boy, and all I see in front of me is a whimpering child struggling not to piss himself at the first sign of trouble.

“I will not allow some glorified prostitute to rob me of my rightful place.  Everything Caesar had is mine, if not by law, then by force,” Tomal declared as he backed away from Valnor and rubbed the knuckles on his right hand.

Valnor slowly got to his feet and used the back of his right hand to wipe the blood away from the corner of his mouth.  The young man looked changed by Tomal’s assault.  Where fear and uncertainty once lurked beneath the surface, Valnor’s posture now brimmed with determination.

“I still have Caesar’s name, you can never take that away,” Valnor
quietly declared.

Tomal bowed slightly
at the waist and made a lazy open armed gesture of acquiescence.  “You got me.  You can attach the word Caesar to the end of your name and there’s not a thing I can do to stop you; much good may it do you.  Now get out of my sight before things actually get violent.”

Valnor wiped one last trickle of blood from his mouth and directed his eyes to the fist Tomal continued massaging.  “You might want to have someone look at that hand.” 

Not showing the least bit of pain from the blows to his nose and jaw, Valnor turned and made his way out of the room.  “Owning Caesar’s name will be sufficient,” he said as he shut the office door behind him.

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