Dawn

[Marcus Quintus 0]

Quintus was no particular devotee of Bacchus. Normally, the amount of whine which he had consumed would ahve sent him to bed with a large goblet of wine and no further plans for the evening. But it was a testament to the knowledge and fascinating discoveries that the earthmen offered that he was wide awake and sobering rather quickly.

 

With his guests shown to their rooms for the night and their security staff neatly set up in his villa's guard-barracks, Marcus retired to his study. The sea air wafted through a single open window, rattling a few papers on his desk. The peaceful setting for what were sure to be monumental discoveries (or, perhaps, re-discoveries) made the consul smile slightly.

 

Activating the computer terminal which linked now into the library of data Challenger had sent, Marcus reflected on the possibilities the Federation data had to offer - not to mention the information which he had briefly mentioned to the captain. As Pontifex Maximus, the chief of priests throughout the Empire, he had access to a great deal of religious and pseudo-religious documentation. And as he had reminded his new friend, Romans' political and religious worlds were often very closely interwoven. What his prestigious college of priests knew, he knew. Therefore, Marcus knew quite a bit.

 

He knew, for instance, of maps. Maps which were fraying bits of linen and pressed reed, but which were incredibly detailed yet imaged places which quite simply did not exist. "Mythic lands," the priests and various clerics pronounced. "Realms of the gods and earlier ages," they stated, and refused to dig any deeper. Diaries and letters, tens of centuries old, which talked of kings and rulers and the same foreign places which were never able to be explained.

 

Of course, their whole culture acknowledged some bits of the mystery, even if they were never really cognizant of the fact that they were doing it. There was no literate child who had not read the tales of beautiful boats sailing from a land of vice and impiety into their current home, where a chosen people - Romans, of course, with a few select associates tossed in for good balance - had been set up in a colony by their beloved gods as paragons of virtue and goodness. It was supposedly a new age, an age of gold again, as in the greatest and oldest traditions. But muddled as most such heroic stories were, most of the populus viewed them as allegories (not to mention good reasons to run roughshod over "barbarians", who were their lessers by necessity in such tales). Those who dug deeper started to find very interesting and slightly more scientific notions, however - at least before their efforts were quite publicly ridiculed as the pursuits of damaged minds...

 

No, Marcus forced himself to think, before any other ideas could take root. He certainly was not going to release the priests' ancient information and data to the mob-at-large. It was better that the people not know that their government had been hiding such knowledge fro them, even if it was in the forms of "sacred artifacts" and "holy documents". The kind of dissent that accusations of "conspiracies" could produce would be... dangerous.

 

The Federation's archive suddenly finished its uploading, rather suddenly and unceremoniously providing the consul with information that he had desired for so long. Leaning forward with an unabashed look of curiosity and a touch of anxiety, Marcus began to read. Soon enough, he would have all of his answers. Soon enough, he would have his long-awaited truth.

 

~

 

"Imperator, salve."

 

Deep-set blue eyes, possessing a rare bit of clarity behind them for once, flickered away from the pinks and orange of what promised to be a glorious sunrise to regard Marcus. "Morning finds you to be well, my friend," he answered, voice crackling with age.

 

"As well as any other day, I suppose." Taking the liberty that came with long friendships to dare to sit without so being bid by his emperor, Marcus smiled at him. "You look well yourself, imperator," he addressed, talking in the sturdy if aged frame of the man across from him. But then, it had never been physical ails which had troubled the man. Both he, Publius Caesar, and Marcus had overcome their share of illnesses in their youth, but something had taken all but a few, rare vestiges of the emperor's mind almost eight years prior. As the Princeps, Publius Caesar was free from removal from office, of course, but the consuls had been forced to take more and more power in the Empire to make up for an imperator who had almost daily, it seemed, grown more and more into a figurehead. Duties had been rerouted to the consuls, and their terms had been extended from the usual one year to five, and then the best of the consuls had those terms prorogated into proconsulships. Anything to keep the public from noticing how weak their beloved, semi-divine leader had become.

 

Harder than it was, though, for Marcus to see a once-strong leader decay, however, was to see a dear comrade fade away. There were times when Publius did not even recognize his old friend, and many more occasions when Quintus had to very carefully cover for the fact that the emperor was growing less and less cognizant of the world around him. But he owed the old man. They'd both kept a few secrets for one another over the years.

 

"I came with something important to tell you," the consul told him, with a look towards the balcony's door to see if any undesired ears were "overhearing". Seeing no one, he continued, pleased by the awareness in his emperor's eyes. He was here today, it seemed. For now, at least...

 

"Speak, friend," Publius prompted him. "Do not force an old man to wait," he added, a bit of humor sparkling in his eyes.

 

"I..." Quintus started with a flare of excitement, then faltered. The bravado of the moment seemed to die now that he was actually revealing it to his emperor, and simultaneously admitting that he had been making grave plans that the leader had little awareness of. "We have made contact with men from another world - a world that is possibly, no - probably - the origin of our people. They are here now," toppled out, too, before he could better ease them into the subject.

 

The emperor blinked. Even at his age, he was capable of being shocked, even if he was better at hiding it than the younger Quintus. For some reason, that thought pleased Marcus. "Here? Now?"

 

"Yes," he replied. "A ceremony of welcome will commence an hour after dawn." He considered for a moment. "They are genuine men, Imperator. They can only help our people."

 

Publius Caesar was silent for a long time before he finally answered. "You engineered this," he accused softly. "You and your men."

 

"Yes," Quintus admitted again. "But we have been aware of such things for years, and..."

 

"You should have informed me!" Publius declared, a tremor of anger shaking through him. "You should have...." He trailed off, seeing the look on Marcus' face and deflating a little.

 

Very quietly, the consul said, "I did, Sir." The two men shared a long look, and the younger finally broke it to stare decidedly at the sea. "You never mentioned it again, nor asked about it. I figured that the memory..."

 

"Escaped me," the emperor finished for him, saving Quintus the disservice of having to put a description of his leader's mental failings into words. Marcus was grateful for that.

 

"Yes," he admitted, softly again. "I wanted to tell you so that you were not like the lowest pleb in ignorance when the information hit the airways."

 

"And for that, I give thanks to you," Publius said, with a heavy sigh. "What are they like?" he asked after a moment, inquisitiveness getting the better of him.

 

Quintus smiled, happy for the shift in conversation. "Almost like us. The better men among them, anyway. They have a certain... open-mindedness to others' ways that is almost virtuous in itself."

 

Publius sat back, reaching for a steaming cup of something and sipping it contentedly. "You do not think that such ways could affect our ways of life - negatively?"

 

The consul shook his head. "No. Such ideas, especially in the mouths of off-worlders, would have no more effects on the populus than the ramblings of Son-Brothers peddling their religion on street-corners."

 

The emperor's face grew severe again. "Religions are forces that one should never ridicule, Marcus. Better men than we have suffered as the result of one cult or another turning the mood of the mob." He visibly made himself untense then, then, smiling. "But then, I suppose the offworlders are not just bringing foreign gods to our soil, are they?"

 

"Of course not!" Marcus answered, a bit excitedly. "They carry supplies and knowledge and... and history that could help us better know ourselves, and will set us up on trade routes - we'll be able to export for great profit and import new technology and materials - and you should see the libraries we have received! There are seven more complete books of Livius than we ever knew of, and..."

 

Quintus stopped, looking towards the emperor, whose own attentions suddenly seemed to be dominated by a flock of seabirds fluttering on the horizon. "Imperator?" he prompted, gently, fearing that the emperor had lost his moment of acuity.

 

The man's attention slowly shifted back to Quintus, blue eyes duller and blinking at him confusedly. "Consul?" he addressed after a long moment, shifting uncomfortably. "I'm... sorry. I forgot that I had a guest. "

 

If his friend's admission was painful - almost too painful - to hear, Marcus gave no indication. "Do not worry, Imperator. I have not been here long, just to wish you well this day."

 

A few moments of pleasantries later, and a recommendation to the emperor's chief steward that the man be kept away from his televisions for the broadcast, Quintus departed, hurrying in light of the late hour. He had done his duty, as fruitless as it may have been, and that was all he could ever ask of himself. At the ceremony slated for that morning, he could only hope that he would be accomplishing the same.

Edited January 17, 2010 by Marcus Quintus