The Twice and Future Caesar (16 page)

Nox was stunned. He knew he was supposed to ask the next question. “Why didn't Rubeus Tunica feel the needle?”

“Anesthetic.”

“Why?”

“Because it was murder.”

Nox sputtered.
“Why?”

“To create an opening in your squad to fit in a new ephebe to be hazed. Are you not picking up the
pattern
here yet?
Your
squad, Nox Antonius. Yours. Numa wanted
you
out. Because you used to be John Farragut's brother.”

Nox appreciated the past tense. He still cringed at the name. “Why not just kill me!”

“Too late. You were already Roman. Numa never wanted you to have Roman citizenship, and he couldn't renounce your citizenship once it had been bestowed
by me
. You came to Rome
in my reign.

“Numa maneuvered you into a circumstance to have you drummed out of the Empire—my Empire—in disgrace. The same stroke also gave him a loyal, young, and nearly dead Roman to fashion into a patterner. Did you not think it odd that Cinna survived that fall at all let alone that he survived in any state to be made into a logical mastermind?”

Nox couldn't answer. It had seemed unbelievable. But it had happened, so that had been the end of disbelieving.

And a satellite just happening to record Cinna's jump—
that
had always gnawed at him. There was something cosmically unfair about that.

Romulus was telling him now that the satellite had been positioned there specifically to record that instant when Cinna went over the edge.

Nox recognized his cue to ask the question. His throat was dry. He cleared it. Rasped, “How did Cinna survive?”

“There was an arrester hook from another satellite prepositioned and standing by to keep the jumper's skull from hitting the ground. Numa expected you to run home to the United States and pick up your life as John Knox Farragut Junior.”

With a chill, Nox remembered the option had been offered to him.

“But instead of running away home, you stood damnation with the rest of your squad. I admire that. And then you got creative. You attempted to acquire the specs to a Xerxes class ship.”

Attempt?
“I did acquire them.”

“Amazingly easy, wasn't it?”

Nox drew in a breath. “Yes,” he whispered, cold. His skin felt to be crawling.

“You must know you only acquired those specs with imperial knowledge and permission. When you actually succeeded in hijacking a Xerxes—astonishing fact, that—Numa made you his own tool. And he inserted his patterner back into your damned squad to monitor you. Oh. About that. Have a care for your brother. Cinna has a resonant off switch. He doesn't know it. He is programmed not to be able to detect it. Numa could have terminated Cinna at any moment.”

Nox felt cold. “Can he? Terminate Cinna?”

“Not any more. I took the liberty of whiting out the trigger harmonic.”

A resonant harmonic and its complement canceled each other out.

“Cinna should have been able to figure out this plot, but Cinna is hard-coded not to be able to see it. But you, Nox Antonius, you should have known that Numa would not send a patterner into the field with a band of outlaws without a means to shut him off.”

Nox couldn't talk. Yes, he should have known.

“You are a dedicated man,” Romulus said. “I am not asking you to break your vow to serve Rome. But you must recognize that you are not actually serving Rome now. You're serving Numa. Not the same thing at all. He used you. I notice that once he brought you and your brothers under his command he never restored your citizenship, your
gens
, your name. You and your brothers are all still
damnati
. How does that feel?”

Nox was reeling as from body blow after body blow after head shot. He felt about to vomit.

Romulus hit him again with another question. “Do you like your life?”

The question landed like an upper cut.

Winded, in blinding pain, Nox fish-mouthed, open and shut. He pictured all the men he'd murdered. He choked out, “No.”

“Ever wish you could do it all over differently?”

Nox coughed. Blurted, “Only when I'm breathing. You know we do! Wishing is useless
merda
! You can't change what is!”

“I can,” Romulus said.

Nox stared at him.

“I can change what is. I can change what was.”

“Are you offering to restore our citizenship?”

“I can do better. I can make it so you never lost it. Get Cinna in on this interview.”

“This is a trap.”

“Of course it's a trap. You want to be in it. It serves you. It serves your brothers. It serves me. It serves Rome.”

“Why does a patterner need another patterner?”

Romulus smiled. “I am told that there is something to be said in favor of redundance. As you might guess, there is no margin for error on this quest of mine.”

Not sure at all, Nox contacted Cinna.

Cinna consented to come.

And Romulus spun them a dream. A life in which Cinna didn't fall, and the brothers were not driven out of Rome, and the Ninth Circle never formed.

It required Romulus to go back in time.

Nox watched Cinna getting angry. Finally Cinna interrupted Romulus. “You're suggesting it can be done. It can't.”

“I told him that,” Nox said.

“You're not a patterner,” Romulus told Nox.

“
I
am,” said Cinna. “It can't be done. It would be a time loop. If I go back and prevent myself from becoming a patterner, then how do I know how to go back? It's a paradox. You are full of shit.”

“You are not a patterner at the moment. You're not connected. You're speaking as a simple man without all the information.”

A tremor. A hesitation. “I could be,” Cinna allowed. “I am listening,
domni.
”

“I have located a break point. Something happened then and there. A definite break in temporal continuity. The universe pulled the figurative blinds on it.”

“Meaning what?” Cinna said. “Literally?”

“There is a star system where a time break occurred. A black hole masked over the break.”

“The Myriad,” Nox heard himself saying.

“Yes. You would have heard of it,” Romulus said.

Well, yeah, John Alexander Farragut exists at the center of the universe, so why not
, Nox thought. Refrained from saying that part aloud.

Instead Nox said, “You think that when the Arran spaceship went through the Rim Gate in the Myriad it changed something other than forming the black hole.”

“I know it did. If I get to that break point in 2443 then I can rewrite everything going forward.”

“If you get back to—!” Nox lost control. He was shouting at Romulus. “That's the whole colossal trick, isn't it? HOW DO YOU GO BACK IN TIME?”

“I recognize your inability to grasp the concept. I will be tolerant,” Romulus said. “When the Arran went through the Rim Gate, the Rim Gate collapsed. But the back door is still open. The other end of that wormhole is still there. It's in the 82 Eridani system, near a planet known as Xi.”

“It's there? You mean no one else
noticed?
”

“The wormhole in the 82 Eridani system is a known oddity. There is a LEN observation station positioned near it, left over from a study that ran out of funding. The LEN sent a probe into the Xi gate. The probe ceased registering the instant it entered the anomaly. Organizations who fund such things don't like it when their funding disappears into unreadable holes. The observation station is still there, observing nothing.”

“I will go through the wormhole at 82 Eridani and come out in 2443. Events flowing forward from the seventh of June 2443 will fall differently. Numa will not become Caesar, and he will not cause a slave to jam a rock into the mechanism in the cliff. You, Cinna, will not fall from Widow's Edge. You will not be butchered into a patterner. You and your brothers will not be drummed out in disgrace and disowned. You will be honorable Romans in
my
Empire.”

There was no expression on Cinna's face but for tears streaming from his eyes. “Caesar, that is a lovely fairy tale, but I know you won't succeed because you are here talking to me now. If you tried, you failed.”

“The fact that we are talking now means only that I haven't done it yet in this time stream. Once I go, this conversation will exist only as a memory of mine. The events of the past five years will persist like a phantom limb of mine that's been removed. Your life will have had a different course. Your nightmare will never materialize. You will have the proverbial clean slate.”

Romulus offered a data reservoir to Cinna. “View this as only you can.”

Cinna regarded the data reservoir as he might a poison pill.

Romulus saw his fear. “Have you something to lose?”

Cinna plugged in.

Nox saw Cinna's eyes get that empty look of a patterner adrift in an
ocean of information. Cinna murmured as from a great depth, “It's a game of moebius chess. Dangerous.”

“Dangerous,” Nox echoed, for Romulus to note.

“Then we play carefully,” Romulus said.

“How will Cinna get you back in time if he never becomes a patterner? Cinna?”

“Don't speak to him,” Romulus said. “Your words are glaciers.”

Cinna reached behind his head and unplugged his cables. He bent over. Looked like he might be sick. Cinna spoke thickly toward the floor, “This is conceivable. Brother, we want to do this.”

Nox was suddenly trembling, caught between impossible hope and certain terror.

Romulus said, “You have been hideously used by the man pretending to be Imperator of Rome. I shan't hold your honor hostage to your cooperation. You are honorable Romans. I will publically restore your status. Contingent on nothing. I know you hesitate to foreswear an allegiance already sworn, but the fact is you were my men first. You became Numa's men under a fraud. You are still my men. I already have your oaths. I shall set things right.

“That instant in time you so desperately want back? You shall have it.”

Nox stared at him in awe and wonder. Romulus owned him now.

“Greater than this,” Romulus went on. “When I succeed, Rome will not surrender to the U.S.
The Subjugation will never happen.
”

The Subjugation was only the most humiliating, devastating event in Roman history. When the shredded remains of Roman might walked under racked spears, placing themselves under U.S. command.

Did he really have the power to change that?

Romulus was asking, “What do you say?”

Nox found his voice. “I exist to defend Rome. Everywhere.
Always.”

21 April 2448

W
HILE
THE
REST
OF
THE
civilized galaxy offered support to the survivors of Terra Rica, Romulus held court on Beta Centauri, presiding over the games that celebrated his return.

Romulus opened the next day's games by exonerating the pirates of the Ninth Circle.

He voided the order of condemnation and made their excommunication a nullity. It never happened.

Romulus claimed that all their reported atrocities had been committed by direct order of Numa Pompeii and so rested on Numa's head. Romulus solemnly returned the brothers' names onto the
deme
rolls one by one. He included Nox Antonius.

Calli had tried to tell John Farragut that his younger brother was working for Numa Pompeii. Farragut hadn't wanted to believe it.

He believed it now.

He had just got back from the Centauri system to his office on Earth when the news hit.

“Get me fucking Numa Pompeii on the resonator!”

He startled the whole floor of Base Carolina. You never heard that kind of language out of Rear Admiral John Farragut. Most of the base personnel had never seen him angry. Farragut emerged from his office like
an old-style missile hauling itself up a silo. He stormed up the corridor in a wrath-of-Achilles kind of mad to his aide's office.

The whites of Farragut's blue eyes flared, impatient.

The aide said, “Finding him, sir. Numa is not in the imperial palace on Palatine.”

“Then where's
Gladiator
?”

“Checking, sir. Okay, the Roman battlefort
Gladiator
is—” Paused to make sure. “In Centauri space. Not answering hails.”

21 Aprilis 2448
Roman Battlefort
Gladiator
Centauri Star System
Near Space

Caesar Numa Pompeii reclined in the dining chamber of his Roman battlefort
Gladiator
when his exec hailed him over the intercom,
“Domni.”

Numa responded immediately. “Tell me that little ground rodent is dead.”

Gladiator
was orbiting Beta Centauri, guns ready, waiting for Romulus to show himself one more time. It would be his last appearance ever.

“Negative,
domni
,” said Portia Arrianus. “Rear Admiral Farragut demands an audience.”

“How does one imagine that Caesar takes calls from an American two-star admiral?”

“He's here,
domni
.”

“Here?
Merrimack
is in the Centauri system?”

“No,
domni
. Rear Admiral Farragut arrived on a shuttle. He's docked.”

“He's on
Gladiator
? Who let that happen?”

“
Domni
, it's John Farragut.”

As she said it, the roar rose from belowdecks. “Numa!”

John Farragut was
here
.

Numa blinked. “Does he have a sword?”

“I've been advised that he stabbed it into the dock,
domni
.”

Heavy, stomping footfalls could be heard, rising from the lower levels.

“What degree of force do you authorize to repel him?” Portia Arrianus requested.

“None. I can take care of myself.”

Another bellow. Nearer. “Numa!” Sounded like Farragut was headed to the command deck.

“Here,” Numa called wearily from his ship's dining chamber.

Farragut entered the chamber like ball lightning. “Numa, you bastard.”

Numa waited, a patient, immobile pile of boulders. “My title is Caesar, you vulgar American hill jack. This ship is Roman territory.”

“Rome doesn't have permission to be in this star system,” Farragut said. “Centaurus is a LEN protectorate.”

“And you're not wearing LEN green,” Numa countered. “Don't pretend to be acting for the League of Earth Nations. You have no business here. And I am only here to collect my garbage.”

“Where is my brother?”

Numa opened his broad empty hands. “I've lost him. I think he may have turncoated. Again. That is what he is good at.”

John Farragut charged in with a fist. Felt the crack, a couple bones giving way. His. Fire lanced up his arm. He felt it in the roots of his teeth.

Farragut was not a small man, but Numa Pompeii was a landmark.

“Broke your hand?” Numa asked mildly.

“Eh—yeah. I think so,” Farragut said. His arm felt molten.

Numa pointed to his own jaw. “Titanium.”

“Ah.” Farragut nodded. Thought he mighta shattered an arm bone. He'd hit Numa hard.

Numa said, “I believe Romulus has seduced your brother and my patterner as well.”

“Oh. Good one,” Farragut said with a grimace of a smile, eyes watering.

“Do you want the attention of a
medicus
?”

“No,” Farragut said. Should've known better. He had a titanium jaw himself. Then, “This really does hurt like a son of a beech tree.”

He'd maybe exploded his elbow.

Jewels and gold flashed as Numa snapped his thick fingers. Farragut hadn't noticed the attendant standing by. Numa filled any space he occupied.

At the snap, the attendant produced a medical automaton from a cabinet concealed under the bar.

As the pain washed away from Farragut's arm, his thoughts returned to order. It just now caught up with him exactly what Numa had said. “Your
patterner
changed sides?”

“It appears so.” Numa gave a quick glance to the liquor rack. An invitation.

Farragut gave a minute nod.

Numa poured a short Kentucky bourbon for Farragut. Napoleon Brandy for himself.

“They tried to tell me you had one. I didn't believe it. How could you even think of having another patterner created? Numa, did you ever
know
Augustus?”

“I did. And I did install a failsafe in Cinna.” He took a long breath and sighed.

Farragut guessed. “It failed.”

Numa nodded. “It did. Romulus has a better patterner.”

“Romulus
is
a better patterner,” Farragut amended.

“No,” Numa said. “I heard that tale. I don't believe that sham.”

“No. Listen. It's true. Romulus really is a patterner. He's settling scores. He's acting like a madman.”

Numa gave a harrumph, a bonfire settling. “That is not an act.”

28 Aprilis 2448
Xerxes
Centauri Star System
Near Space

A Xerxes type ship was programmed to repel or destroy unauthorized boarders. One needed to be introduced in order to gain entrance. Romulus introduced Cinna to his own Xerxes.

Cinna, Nox, and the other brothers of the Ninth Circle still lived on board their own stolen Xerxes,
Bagheera
. They had been exonerated of all their crimes, but they weren't really welcome anywhere.

They would not be pariahs for much longer.

Cinna helped Romulus prepare his Xerxes for his journey that would change everything.

“Once you enter the time gate at 82 Eridani, you will not exist here, Caesar. No one can detect you inside the wormhole, and you won't be able to navigate. You will feel no motion. The sensors will detect nothing of your surroundings.
Merrimack
's records of Fleet Marines who went through the wormhole indicate it can be extremely unnerving. The
episode should last at most a week by your ship's chronometer. But it may be quicker, so stay ready.

“You will come out at the end without warning. The date will be the seventh of June 2443 by the terrestrial calendar. You will instantly meet the Arran messenger ship at the Rim Gate at the edge of the Myriad.”

Romulus scowled. “Meet?”

“Collide with,” Cinna revised. “It's important that you enter the wormhole with your inertial field already formed into a wide concave surface. The Xerxes' energy shell is designed to slip past objects. We need you to hammer the Arran and move its wreckage away from the wormhole. No piece of the shattered Arran messenger can be allowed to get past you. Nothing must enter the Rim Gate.”

“I accept your recommendation,” Romulus said.

Cinna then presented Romulus with a heavy slab of lead, the size of a book. “Take this with you. It's your key.”

Romulus recognized the artifact from his own research. It was the Xi tablet.

The Xi tablet had been engraved in the Myriad and sent back to 82 Eridani through the same wormhole Romulus was about to travel.

“The Xi tablet knows the way home,” Cinna said. “The instant you arrive, history will diverge from what is logged in your data bank. Don't look for the black hole. It will never form.

“
Merrimack
will be nine terrestrial hours away from your position, but she will observe your arrival via the space buoy stationed outside the Rim Gate. You will be in full stealth, but
Merrimack
will observe the Arran messenger crashing into something undetectable—your ship's inertial field.”

“Should I destroy the observer buoy?” Romulus asked. He knew the answer. Just wanted to hear it confirmed.

“I advise against it. The image of the Arran's destruction will already be sent. Save your ammunition and give the Yanks no more clues to your presence. The more secret your actions, the less deviation there will be to events as you expect them to unfold. And your ship is lightly armed.”

Xerxes ships were built for flight, not fight.

“The more munitions you carry, the lower your threshold velocity. I'm not sure what the right balance should be.”

Romulus waved the problem away. “My Xerxes' firepower matters not. I will soon be moving fleets and Legions.”

Cinna nodded. “Look for two Roman Legion carriers converging on the
Myriad as you arrive. Their resonant harmonics, signal codes, names of their command personnel, and everything else about them is in your data bank.”

“I shall take command of the Legions,” Romulus said.

“The patterner Augustus will be flying on point, piloting a Striker. You have the historical record of Augustus' trajectory in your ship's data bank. That trajectory might change as events develop. Secure Augustus' Striker before he can read the new pattern. You have his resonant harmonic.”

“If I ping him, I will know exactly where he is,” Romulus said.

“Yes. And Augustus will know that someone pinged him, but he won't know who or where you are.”

Romulus said, “I will be the only being in the known universe who can get a location on the source of a resonant transmission.”

Cinna demurred. “The Hive. Don't forget the Hive. And possibly Constantine Siculus. He's still alive in your target time frame.”

Constantine Siculus was a historical monster, who had tried to make himself Caesar. He was dead now.

“Constantine should die sooner,” Cinna said. “He knows the Hive harmonics. I think Constantine should be a priority target. At least as important as securing Augustus.”

“I recognize the need to remove Constantine,” Romulus said. “The problem is that Constantine will be way out in the Deep End of the galaxy when I arrive. He will be nowhere near the Myriad. His lair is months away in the wrong direction from anywhere I want to go. I'm thinking of using a drone to take him out. Assassins are just not to be trusted.”