The Twice and Future Caesar (26 page)

He lifted his arms at the terrifying images thrashing around him. “Does this surprise you?” Romulus asked his audience. “Did any of you know of this? Does it horrify? I tell you, this is not news. And this is far from the real horror.
This
is the horror.”

The images went dark. The music became low and solemn.

“Legio Primus, Adamantine. Legio Secundus, Valorous.”

In a grave, heroic voice Romulus named off the Legions of Rome. It was a long list. He named sixty-four, then stopped. The music stopped.
Silence stretched. The questioning crowd waited. Dread was growing claws.

“Romans! Do you have fathers, sons, loved ones in these honored Legions?” Romulus asked. “Where are they now?”

A camera found Caesar Magnus, who was turning gray.

The huge image behind Romulus leaped into a close-up of masses of gorgons in a feeding frenzy.

Romulus turned to his father. “Magnus, tell the people where their Legions are.”

John Farragut, on the command deck of his ship, reacted with a jolt. Blurted, “Oh, for Jesus.”

Romulus spoke into the cameras. “It fell to me—because your elected leaders failed—to inform the families, to recognize them, and to thank them for their sacrifice. To acknowledge their service and courage.”

Romulus made a steady, imperious presence as he revealed Rome's darkest secret. “Sixty-four Roman Legions are dead and no one told
Rome
. Magnus placed the forces of Rome under U.S. command, and look where it got us. The United States fed the best of Rome to the Hive.”

“Ho! Foul! Wrong!” Farragut shouted at the display.

Romulus was making it sound as though the U.S. lost those Legions.

“It's not true,” Lieutenant Hamilton said. “We never took command of sixty-four Legions. Did we?”

“No,” Farragut said.

“It doesn't need to be true,” Calli said. “It's what Romulus needs Rome to believe.”

Magnus only put Rome's forces under U.S. control
after
the sixty-four Legions fell to the Hive. Romulus was reversing cause and effect. And Rome would willingly believe it, because the truth was unbearable.

Romulus said, “The truth has been kept from you by Magnus and his creature, the Frankenstein monster Augustus.”

All eyes on the command deck of
Merrimack
turned to Magnus' patterner, standing at the rear of the platform.

Augustus blinked genuine surprise. “That was well played. He's lining up all his enemies on one side.”

Farragut said/asked, “You knew the sixty-four Legions were gone.”

“I did. Why do you suppose Magnus gave me to you? It was not my will to be here, taking orders from an American captain. Rome is desperate.”

Romulus wasn't done with devious surprises. The background image
had changed again to show the great round LEN vessel
Woodland Serenity
taking on refugees from the planet Arra. Then he juxtaposed that with an image of the space battleship
Merrimack
retreating, accompanied by a soundtrack of the LEN crying for the big ship to stop right now and take on refugees. “Come back!”

The image of
Merrimack
shrank very small and vanished in the darkness. You still heard the LEN cries for help.

It was a damning image.

“The United States Space battleship
Merrimack
was there at this imperiled world,” Romulus announced to the listening galaxy. “See
Merrimack
run. This is what placing your faith in the United States wins you. Here is the United States in action.”

Farragut looked at all the stunned faces of the young specialists on his command deck. He said reasonably, “We can expect villagers with pitchforks at our next port of call, I think.”

Romulus wasn't even done.

“The situation is dire.” Romulus gazed into the recorders. “But I am here.”

Before anyone could say yippee, Romulus held out his hand melodramatically, like a wizard, reaching up toward the heavens, as if he could reach across kiloparsecs to the distant star cluster in the Deep End where horrible aliens ravaged a beautiful world that brave Romans died trying to defend. Romulus pronounced, “I forbid this to go on.”

Calli rolled her eyes. “Great. What's he—?”

Gorgons rose from the Arran fields. The monsters lifted into the air, tentacles waving and reaching.

Someone on the command deck made a sound of disgust. “Come
on
. These images have to be faked.”

But they weren't.

Shocked reports came over the resonator on official harmonics from the LEN vessel
Woodland Serenity
, which was there in the Myriad. The reports on site validated the incredible images. The League of Nations crew were crying, jubilant. “The Hive is lifting away!
The Hive is lifting away!
”

Farragut said, “Can't be. The Hive never leaves food.”

“They are doing so,” Augustus observed.

“Actually, we recently saw this behavior in the Hive,” Jose Maria said.

Farragut nodded. “Our shadow. That stealth missile Romulus set on our tail. It led the Hive to us. We were the dress rehearsal for this act.”

Augustus agreed. “Romulus has another drone out there resonating the irresistible harmonic. He's using it to lead the Hive off the planet.”

The gorgons swarmed upward and away. The LEN called it a miracle.

A reporter in the arena where Romulus was putting on his show asked Romulus how he effected the miracle.

Romulus roared back at the questioner. “How did I do it?
Ask others why they did not!
Who
else
has the solution and what are they withholding it for? The highest bidder?”

“He's trying to turn everyone against us,” Calli said.

“Trying?” Farragut said. “The crazy man's getting it done.”

“That was masterful,” Augustus said.

Jeffrey snapped from the tactical station, “And you're praising him!” Added a belated, sheepish, “Sir.”

Captain Farragut motioned Jeffrey down. “Deny brilliance in your enemy at your sorrow, son. Colonel Augustus, less praise for the crazy man.”

“This is a good thing, isn't it?” Hamster asked carefully. “It means Donner's people will live.”

Glenn Hamilton had a place in her heart for the alien archon Donner. “The planet Arra will live. Do we care who played the Pied Piper?”

“It ought to be good,” Farragut said.

“It ought to be good,” Calli said. “But Hamlin paid dearly for the piper's service.”

Immediately after Romulus' public miracle, the Roman Senate convened in the Curia.

The stone rotunda stood opposite the palace on the Capitoline Hill. Romulus hadn't been invited inside the Curia. Romulus wasn't a Senator and had no official place there.

Romulus should have been invited.

The main compartment in his Xerxes looked now like the hanging gardens of Babylon. Romulus sat at a picnic with Claudia on a blanket behind a virtual waterfall. He'd needed to scale back the tactile images a little, because Claudia minded the dampness on her hair.

She fretted over the lack of news from the Curia. Blamed it on their father.

“That useless man!” Claudia cried. “I should like to see him dead!”

“I have seen him dead,” Romulus said. “It was a mistake.”

“What?
”

“I will tell you a story.” He picked up her hand, kissed it, and replaced it on the blanket. “In time.”

“Why are you not angry at these morons!”

“Anger is another face of fear, my sweet. It doesn't serve. This development is inconvenient. Very inconvenient, if these imbeciles are doing what I suspect they're doing. It forces me to use a weapon I would rather not spend yet.”

He leaned over to lay his cheek against her hair. She smelled of cinnamon and wood spice.

His brows contracted, thoughtful. “Gaius Julius Caesar.” He tried out the sound of the name and found it lacking. “How did that man's name get to be synonymous with kingship for centuries? How did
Caesar
get to be a title?
Caesar
Augustus.
Kaiser
Wilhelm.
Tsar
Nikolai. Caesar! Caesar! Caesar!”

“You shall be Caesar Romulus,” Claudia said.

“No. That's just it. Why should I lean on some lesser man's name? I will, henceforth, be Romulus.
The
Romulus. My name shall be ascendant. The name ‘Romulus' will eclipse the name ‘Caesar.' In the future Romans will speak the name Romulus when they mean God Imperator.”

“That is much better,” Claudia said, smiling at last.

“Let the Senate name their puny Caesar. I am
the
Romulus. The Senate must confer the imperium upon me.”

“They might not be bright enough to give it to you,” Claudia said.

“Then I shall just take it.”

Most political observers expected a long wait for the Roman Senate to make their decision as to whom should be elevated into Magnus' place as leader of the vast Roman Empire. There would be weeks or months of impressive oratory.

The matter was decided within hours.

Just after Taps sounded at 2105 hours on
Merrimack
, Lieutenant Glenn Hamilton summoned Captain John Farragut and Commander Calli Carmel back to the command platform.

Calli arrived on the command deck first.

Hamster announced, “XO on deck.”

Calli stopped dead in the hatchway as she saw the image on the tactical monitor. “Oh. No.”

The Roman broadcast showed white smoke pouring from a stack above the Curia.

Calli moved quickly aside because John Farragut arrived like a cannon ball.

“Captain on deck.”

“What's with the smoke?” Farragut said. “Did they elect a Pope?”

“Either that or the Curia's on fire, sir,” Hamster said.

The bronze-clad doors of the Roman Senate house parted. The Consul Gaius Americanus advanced. Dark, graying, dignified. He carried a crown-sized oak wreath.

“Is that him?” Hamster asked. “Is that who they picked?”

“No,” Calli said. “That's who they should've picked. But they didn't.”

A large mass remained in shadow behind the Consul Gaius Americanus.

“You mean it's done, Cal? Already?”

Calli nodded. “They just need to finish pushing his ego out through the doors.”

“Sir? Who is that?” Glenn Hamilton asked as the mountainous figure stepped out of the shadows to center stage.

“Numa Pompous Ass,” Calli Carmel said. “Triumphalis. Big Roman hero.”

“Huge Roman hero,” Captain Farragut observed.

The triumphalis Numa Pompeii was an Olympic-sized mass of not very pretty. Only as power attracts could Numa Pompeii be called attractive.

Jose Maria de Cordillera arrived on deck. His long hair was wet and his clothes stuck to him. He looked at the tactical monitor and glanced among the officers. “It is done?”

Calli gave a brisk nod. “Rome can be decisive when her feet are on fire.”

“Good thing to remember if you're fixin' to go to war with her,” Farragut said.

The Roman Senate had named Numa Pompeii the next Imperator of Rome.

Augustus arrived on deck just in time to see Gaius Americanus place the oak crown on Numa Pompeii's thinly haired head, which appeared to have been hewn from a boulder with a broad chisel. Augustus murmured, “Hail, Caesar.”

Calli advised Captain Farragut, “Numa is a hard line warmongering glory hound.”

Farragut nodded acknowledgment. He turned to his patterner. “Colonel Augustus?”

“Captain Farragut,” said the Roman.

John Farragut put out a palm. “Sword.”

Augustus quit the command deck.

A very long silence fell in which only the equipment spoke.

Augustus reappeared moments later, armed, in the hatchway. He passed between two wary MPs.

Augustus unbelted his scabbard and passed it to the captain.

Farragut accepted the sword.

“Brig,” said Farragut to Augustus. Then, to one of the Marine guards at the hatch, “Yurg, give the colonel company on the way there.”

“Aye, aye, Captain. This way, Colonel Augustus.”

The com specialist abruptly turned from his station. “Sir. The LEN is making a public plea to Romulus for help.”

“The LEN? Help?” Farragut said, off balance. “Why? What's happening? Where?”

“The word from planet Arra is that the Hive swarms are turning around.”

“Turning? You mean again?”

“Aye, sir. The gorgons are headed back down to the planet. They're eating everything. Whatever was luring them away before isn't doing it anymore.”

“I'm fixin' to take a wild guess here that Romulus might not be all that happy with the election results,” Farragut said.

Hamster asked, “Do you really think Romulus actually controls the Hive?”

“He's my first suspect,” Farragut said.

Calli nodded. Hers, too.

The com specialist broke in. “Sir. The LEN are begging Romulus to reinstate his protection on the planet. Romulus just told the League rep, ‘Go ask Caesar to save them.' That's a quote, sir.”

Farragut looked astonished. “Well, there it is. Romulus is using the Hive as a weapon in his own private power grab.”

The LEN publicly turned to the new Caesar, Numa Pompeii, for help. As if Caesar Numa Pompeii could have the same power to move the Hive.

In no time, Numa Pompeii made his appearance before the galactic media. He made a show of listening to the LEN pleas, a serious expression set on his craggy face. He nodded like a compassionate god, while behind him, towering holo displays relayed LEN camera images of the gorgons renewing their devastation on the Arran landscape in the wake of Romulus' abandonment. Only Numa didn't call it abandonment. He called it “Romulus' failure.”

Numa Pompeii then turned away dramatically, as if he'd seen enough. He made a theatrical upward lifting motion with his broad hands. And as he did, the cameras on distant Arra captured images of the Hive swarms rising into the air, tentacles reaching upward as they left the ground.