TERRA (The Portal Series, Book 2) Page 10

  Affron pointed to a large, dome-shaped building on our left. I realized that it looked familiar. It looked like the temple of Via; and it had the same large statue of Hieron standing in front of it. "That is the Roman temple," he said. "As you can see, it is built on the model of the temple in Urbis. There are such temples throughout Terra. They are where ordinary people go to worship Via. Most people believe that the gods gave Via to the priests as our means of contacting them, of receiving wisdom from them. And the priests are content to have people believe this. Even highly intelligent men—Decius, for example—probably have only a vague understanding of what Via really is, even though there have been renegade priests over the years who have tried to explain the truth. It is impossible for the average person on this world to really comprehend the multiverse. I know how astounded I was when I was finally brought to Urbis and learned the truth."

  I contemplated this. "But couldn't there be something more to Via than even the priests understand?"

  "Yes," Affron agreed softly, "perhaps there could. Perhaps there could."

  "What do you do at night, Affron—when you sit in the dark making those strange motions in the air?"

  He shook his head. "Ah, Larry, I don't really know. I think it's my way of trying to understand just how different I really am."

  "That doesn't make any sense," I pointed out.

  "You're right," he replied. "I couldn't agree more."

  It was clear that he didn't want to say anything more about it. We fell silent, sitting in the hot sun and waiting for Valleia to return. I kept thinking about being special, about being different. It just didn't seem right. But... here I was in another world, plotting to oust its rulers. This was not the summer day camp in Glanbury.

  Finally we saw Valleia come out of the government headquarters and descend the steps. We walked over to meet her. "He wasn't there," she said. "He's at the Circus Maximus, inspecting it for the Games."

  Affron sighed. "Let's go, then. I hope we don't end up chasing the man all over Roma."

  We set out once again. The Circus Maximus was a short walk from the Forum. The place was huge—bigger than any football stadium, bigger than the Roman Colosseum, which I'd seen pictures of. It was made of concrete, and sat in the middle of a broad plaza filled with fountains. Multicolored flags were flying everywhere. Workmen were busy putting up booths and signs.

  "We'll never find him in this place," I said.

  "And if we find him," Valleia added, "he'll be with a dozen other people."

  "Let's go inside," Affron replied.

  We walked through a long tunnel underneath the stands and out onto a dirt track that surrounded a large grass field. On the field athletes were practicing—at one end men were throwing javelins; at the other end they were doing the long jump. All of them were deeply tanned, heavily muscled, and naked. More workmen were painting seats and setting up awnings. "I don't see him," Affron said after a while.

  "Shall we look underneath the stands?" Valleia asked.

  "Yes, I suppose so."

  We went back into the tunnel. I was getting hungry, and the midday heat was blistering. Being under the stands was a little cooler than being out in the sun, at least. We turned left, into a long concourse lined with booths for selling food and drinks. They were all closed. I heard shouts and hammering. Laughter and curses. We passed naked athletes, their bodies slick with sweat, guzzling water from buckets. We passed bored-looking soldiers guarding doors.

  We didn't see Decius.

  I could tell that Valleia was starting to get worried. How was the plan going to work, if we couldn't even find the guy? I recalled my first night in Carmody's world, where Kevin and I talked our way out of a refugee camp and into a jail cell by showing the guards his calculator watch. "Maybe we should get ourselves arrested," I said.

  Affron stopped walking. "What?"

  "Do the soldiers here report to Decius? Maybe we should just let one of them arrest us, and he'd bring us to him."

  "Yes, they report to him," Affron said. "But how would we—"

  And then he stopped. A couple of soldiers were approaching us, deep in conversation. "Run," he murmured to us. And he turned and ran. Valleia and I hesitated for a moment, and then we took off after him.

  "Sistite!" I heard one of the soldiers shout. Halt!

  We didn't halt. I heard them come after us. Affron slowed down. Valleia and I slowed down behind him. I couldn't run that fast anyway, in my sandals, in the heat. And I knew what Affron was doing. A hand grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. One of the soldiers had a hold of me. He was tall and dark and sweating and looked like he wanted to punch me. The other soldier had hold of Valleia and Affron. He was broad-shouldered and had close-cropped gray hair. We were all panting.

  "Venite mecum!" the gray-haired soldier said. Come with me!

  The soldiers marched us down the concourse. One of them said something to the other; I couldn't quite understand it, but I heard the word viator.

  Had they recognized us? Success, I guessed. But it was a risk. Except we had the gant. And Affron. The soldiers brought us into an empty room and shoved us onto a bench. A little light filtered into the room from an opening high up in one wall. The room stank of sweat and stale urine. Obscene graffiti and drawings were scrawled all over the walls. Filthy towels were piled up next to a toilet in the corner. Beside the toilet was a bucket of water. Was this a locker room? The tall soldier stood in front of the door, and the gray-haired one left.

  "Well," Affron said to us in English. "Let's hope this works."

  "Latine loqui!" the soldier barked at him. Speak Latin!

  Affron shrugged and fell silent. He crossed his arms. Valleia fingered the pocket of her robe that contained the gant. We waited. My stomach started to growl.

  After maybe twenty minutes there was a knock on the door; the tall soldier opened it and stepped aside. The older soldier walked in, followed by a man in an expensive-looking white robe. I knew instantly that this was Decius. He wasn't tall, but he held himself in a way that made you know that he was in charge. He was bald, with a fringe of gray hair on the sides of his head. He had piercing gray eyes, and he held himself very still. He was the only one of us who didn't seem to be sweating. He stared at us for a moment with those gray eyes, and then he bowed to Affron.

  "Salve, Affronius," he said quietly.

  Affron bowed in return.

  Then the governor greeted Valleia and me by name. It was odd hearing him call me "Larry."

  "I find this unusual," he said. In Latin, of course. I was pleased that I could understand most of what he said, although often I lost track, especially when he spoke quickly or the sentences got too complex. "It seems you wanted to be captured," he went on. "Why?"

  "To meet you, obviously," Affron replied.

  "Again, why?"

  "It would be better to talk in private."

  Decius slowly shook his head. "The soldiers stay. By the way, give me the weapon."

  "What weapon?"

  He didn't respond. Affron and Valleia looked at each other, and Affron shrugged. We had gone this far; we couldn't stop now. Valleia took the gant out of her pocket and handed it to Decius. He hefted it, stared at it. The soldiers stared at it too—at the polished metal with the faint blue glow. They had never seen anything like it before, of course. Did the soldiers have any idea what it was? Decius clearly did. "Very interesting," he said. "This little thing. The gods are indeed wonderful." And he put the gant into a pocket in his robe. I expected Affron or Valleia to complain, but they didn't. "You know," he went on. "I expected you to get in touch with me, if you were still in Roma. If you didn't show up, I would have had to pay you a visit myself. But I didn't expect to see you here." He gestured at the room where we were sitting.

  "We're running out of time," Affron responded.

  "Time for what?"

  Affron glanced at the soldiers, sighed, and said: "Time to reach an agreement with you, in our areas of mutual interest." />
  "Why should we reach an agreement on anything? Why shouldn't I return you to the priests, as I am supposed to? Perhaps they would even give me the reward."

  "Because I can help you far more than Tirelius can, or will."

  "How do I know that? In fact, Tirelius has already promised increased support for the Roman province if I helped track you down."

  "But you don't believe him, obviously. Nor should you. He doesn't care about your province."

  He shrugged. "Possibly, but why should I believe you?"

  "Because Tirelius is interested in expanding the priests' empire; he is interested in Barbarica. I, on the other hand, am not. And that is why I had to flee from Urbis. I understand your legitimate concerns about the needs of the people of Roma, and I am prepared to meet them."

  "These are just words," Decius responded. "Tirelius is very interested in you. I could simply hold onto you until he meets my demands. Why wouldn't that work?"

  Affron rubbed his chin. "You should understand, Decius," he said finally, "that you will never be able to return me to Tirelius. This will not happen."

  Decius seemed amused by Affron's statement. "What do you mean, 'this will not happen'? I have my soldiers. I have your weapon. You are in my power."

  Affron shook his head. "No, governor, I am not."

  Valleia looked at Affron, puzzled. But I wasn't puzzled. I could feel it coming this time, the way you can feel a thunderstorm in the air. A sudden coldness in the humid room. A prickling at the back of my neck.

  And then it happened. I felt it like the shock wave from an explosion. Like I was spiraling down into a black hole, infinitely dark and infinitely deep. I was unable to breathe, unable to feel, except for the one overpowering feeling of speckness. I am nothing. My life is nothing. Everything is nothing.

  And then, somehow, I came out the other side, and I was back in the grimy locker room in the bowels of the Circus Maximus on Terra, still alive, still conscious. In front of me, the two soldiers and Decius lay crumpled on the hard concrete floor. And I saw fear in Valleia's eyes as she stared at Affron.

  Now she had seen Affron's magic.

  Chapter 13

  "Take the gant back from the governor," Affron ordered Valleia. "Make sure they're all alive." He turned to me. "Are you all right, Larry?"

  "Uh, I guess so. I'm a little weak. It was like before."

  He nodded. "I'm sorry. I wasn't sure I was going to have to do that. But I think I had no choice."

  "Do what?" Valleia asked. She had gone over to Decius and taken the gant from him.

  "He's alive?" Affron said.

  "Yes. But what—?"

  "Check the soldiers."

  She did as she was told. "They are still breathing," she reported. "Now, please tell me what happened. Is this your magic?"

  Affron looked tired, resigned. "Yes," he said. "My magic. I thought it was important to show Decius just where the power lay here. He seemed to be under a misapprehension."

  "You did this with your mind," Valleia said.

  Affron nodded. "Did you feel anything?"

  "No." She looked at me. "And you did?"

  I nodded. "I don't know why," I said.

  She came back and sat down next to us. "What will happen now?" she asked.

  "Now we wait for them to come back to consciousness," Affron replied. "They should be all right. And then the conversation will continue."

  So we sat there and waited in the heat. Finally Affron pointed to the bucket of water and said, "This is taking too long. Larry, let's see if we can wake up Decius."

  I got the bucket and threw the water onto the governor's face. He groaned and opened his eyes. Then he sat up and wiped his face with the sleeve of his robe. He noticed the two soldiers on the floor. Then he felt for the gant. And then he looked at us.

  "Call your men to come help those soldiers," Affron said. "Then let's find a more pleasant place to talk. It's hot here, and we need some lunch."

  Decius hesitated, and then he got up, opened the door, and called out into the passageway. In a few moments more soldiers rushed in. He pointed to the bodies on the floor. "Take them away," he ordered. "And tell Iduma I need him."

  The soldiers looked baffled, but they picked up their comrades and carried them out of the room.

  "Will my men survive?" Decius asked Affron.

  "Yes, they will be all right. I'm very sorry I had to do that to them, but otherwise they might have gotten upset when I did what I did to you."

  "That was you? It felt like—"

  "It felt like a horrifying madness had descended upon you. But yes, that was me. That is what you are facing, Decius—a mind that is also a weapon."

  "Could you have killed me?"

  "I believe that I could. Or, at least, I could have made that madness permanent. Which, really, would be worse than death—certainly worse than the kind of death that Valleia's weapon offers—instant, painless oblivion."

  "And you can do this to anyone?"

  Affron shrugged. "It seems so."

  There was a knock on the door. Decius opened it, and a short fat man entered. He gave us a puzzled look, but said nothing. "Bring my carriage immediately," Decius ordered. "Have luncheon ready for the four of us in my peristyle. No one is to see us there. Understood?"

  The fat man nodded. "Yes, Dominus." He scurried away, and Decius shut the door behind him.

  The governor turned back to Affron. He rubbed his forehead; I bet he had a headache. "What is this power?" he asked. "Does it come from Via? Do others have it?"

  "The power is mine alone, as far as I know," Affron replied. "As for Via... perhaps everything comes from Via. Perhaps nothing. I do not know."

  "There is much that you do not know, apparently. You speak in riddles, like all the priests. What exactly do you want from me? What is the agreement you spoke of? Or is that a riddle too?"

  "It is simple. We want you to help us take power from Tirelius. In return, we will improve the lives of your people and make you the most successful governor the Roman province has ever known."

  "But why do you need my help? With your power—"

  "There are limits to my power," Affron said. "There are limits to how we can use this weapon. We will need the support of your soldiers and your people to succeed."

  "You have a plan?"

  Affron nodded. "We have a plan."

  The conversation was interrupted by another knock on the door. It was the fat man again. "Ready, Dominus," he said to Decius. We all rose and followed him through the tunnels to the plaza outside the Circus Maximus, where an ornate closed carriage pulled by two brown horses was waiting for us. "Inside," Decius instructed us. "Quickly."

  We climbed inside along with Decius; Iduma shut the doors, and the carriage started up. The seats were comfortable; there was some kind of fruity scent in the air. The heat was unbearable. "No one should live in the city in the summer," Decius muttered.

  We didn't respond. My stomach growled again.

  Soon the carriage stopped. We were in an alley behind a large house on one of the fancy hills. We got out and went through a door in a long wall, and we found ourselves in a peristyle filled with fountains and flowering plants. I felt a slight breeze, for which I was very grateful. Decius excused himself to see about lunch.

  "How do you think it's going?" Affron asked in English.

  Valleia was staring at him. I realized that she was still trying to understand what he had done to Decius and his soldiers. Affron's "magic."

  "He is terrified of you," she stated.

  "Well, that's good, then."

  "But you should have told me that you might do this."

  "I'm sorry. But now it is done, and we must make the best of it."

  "Do you think he knows where we live?" I asked. "He talked about coming to visit us if we didn't visit him."

  "It's possible," Affron replied. "He is likely to have more spies on the streets than Tirelius. All the more reason to reach an agreement with him
."

  Decius returned in a few moments followed by Iduma, who was carrying a platter of food—fruit and cheese—and jugs of wine and water.

  Iduma left, and we ate in silence for a couple of minutes. I had my first orange since arriving on Terra, and it tasted wonderful.

  "Now," Decius said finally, "explain your plan."

  Affron nodded to Valleia. She explained what we had gone over the night before: the plan to sneak into Urbis, seize the rest of the gants in the armamentarium, and take over Urbis—with the help of Roman soldiers.

  Decius asked some questions, and finally he shook his head. "It's not good enough," he said.

  "Why not?" Valleia demanded.

  "I cannot simply order soldiers to do my will when it comes to Via," Decius explained. "The soldiers are ordinary people, and ordinary people might not like the priests, but they fear them. They must believe in their cause, and they must believe they can win. The people know nothing about Affron. He is just a name and a description posted on walls across the city. Someone who has apparently committed unspeakable crimes against Via."

  Valleia looked annoyed. "What do you suggest, then?"

  Decius pondered the question. "We must change the way people think about Affron," he replied. "Imagine demonstrations springing up against Tirelius, demanding improvements in the lives of Roman citizens. Imagine graffiti on every wall protesting Tirelius and praising Affron. Rumors sweep the city that Affron is being hunted down because he dared to stand up to Tirelius in favor of Roma. The rumors say that the Tirelius has lost favor with the gods and must be replaced."

  "You can do this?" Valleia asked.

  "Of course I can."

  "Won't Tirelius find out and demand that you control your people?"

  "Of course he will. I will try, but I can only do so much. I am unable to comply with his demands. The demonstrations are too large to suppress. We arrest the leaders, but more rise up in their place. As soon as we clean up one wall, new graffiti appear on a dozen others."

  "I don't see how this helps," Valleia said. "Our plan relies on secrecy. What you are proposing may get the soldiers on our side, but it will also put Tirelius on alert—he will expect an attack and prepare for it."