“Do it. And Kartinis, you lead it. Bring Lucius back to me.”
Kartinis nodded, saluted, and turned. He strode away, givinginstructions for several squads to meet him at the front gate as he left. Then,as if feeling Hadrian’s urgency, Kartinis began to jog, then run toward thegate.
Primus Caesar Lucius lounged in the calfskin-upholsteredviewing chair in his private viewing box halfway up the side of the great Romacoliseum. Here he enjoyed the cool fall breeze that pushed away the heatradiating off the metal bleachers full of plebeians and patricians stretchingto either side of him. Fight day brought everyone out to watch the massivehumanoid automatons battling in the center of the dirt-paved arena below.
Pistons hissing, brass, steel, and iron glinting in thesunlight, the mecha-gladiators circled, occasionally venting small spurts ofsteam. The crowd cheered or booed the fortunes of either the one bearing a redflag on its head, or the blue.
“I desire another drink, Aura; bring me one,” he said to thescantily clad woman nestled next to him. Her full lips pouted as she slitheredoff him and moved behind him to tip the wine pitcher over his goblet.Condensation had formed on the glass from its cool contents. His two personalguards, standing at attention on either side of the box entrance, studiouslyavoided looking at her long, slender legs as she wiped her moist hands down hershort skirt. Let them look, Lucius thought, already bored with his mostrecent companion. They never held his interest for more than a few weeks at atime, and this one was beginning to annoy him. Besides, if he kept her aroundtoo long, his father would press for Lucius to get married again. Alwaysworried about “securing the dynasty.” Stupid old git.
Lucius sat up in his seat as the blue mecha-gladiator swunga ten foot-long sword down at the other one. The red-flagged mecha-gladiatorrolled to the left, then hooked its trident behind the leg of the blue one,bringing it down with a massive crash and screech of metal. The crowd roaredapproval as the trident-armed construct knocked aside the sword and crushed theshield of the blue automaton now lying helpless on the ground. Lucius could seethe operator inside the grounded machine working desperately at his controls,trying to get his creation moving again-to no avail. The crowd roared as themassive trident came down against the neck of the downed mecha-gladiator.
A monotone voice came from the speaker on the red ’bot.“Shall I remove him, Highness?”
Lucius held his hand out behind him and Aura placed his drinkwithin his fleshy palm. He took a long sip while the crowd waited, anticipationbuilding. He cleared his throat, then walked to the microphone. “Finish him.”
The crowd’s cheering surged as the trident lanced down,severing the head of the fallen mecha-gladiator. Steam shot into the air as themain control rods and boiler connection were severed. The body went limp, butthe head rolled several times, finally coming to rest against the wall of thestadium. Several ground crewmembers rushed out to get the limp form of thedefeated pilot out of his seat and hitch the parts of the now incapacitatedconstruct to a steamtractor. As the tractor dragged the components from thearena floor, the triumphant mecha-gladiator marched around the arena, tridentraised, striking poses to rile up the crowd.
I must get Father to let me buy one, or better yet,design and commission one, Lucius decided, riding the triumphant wavecresting around him.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooommmmmm.
A massive pressure wave washed over the coliseum on theheels of the deafening explosion, shocking the crowd and blowing dust, litter,and other debris into myriad dust devils. Many people fell; those who didn’traced for the exits, oblivious with panic.
“What was that?” Lucius blurted as soon as he’d recovered.
His guardsmen both shrugged. “Shall we return to the palace,My Lord? Or would you rather remain at the games?” asked Aestius, the moreveteran of the two and in charge of his security detachment. His long blackhair marked him as a man of Hunnic-Roman descent.
Lucius turned back to the field. The mecha-gladiator stoodfrozen in place. The stands were quickly emptying of people. Several bodieslittered the aisleways, and sirens could be heard in the distance as emergencycrews moved to deal with whatever had happened. “Let’s get to the ostrichines.Whatever this calamitous event, it has undone the games. And I’m bored.”
Aestius nodded and checked the entrance. The otherlegionary, Flavius, had unsheathed his sword and brought his shield around ontohis left arm. With a curt nod from Aestius, Flavius took the lead as theystepped into the corridor behind the box.
“We’ll meet up with the rest of the detachment, then get youout of here,” Aestius said over his shoulder to Lucius as the heir moved tofollow him, Aura on his heels. “That sounded like an explosion to me, and thatcan mean several things, none of them good for you or the city.” Aestius’ voiceechoed in the narrow confines of the hallway.
When they finally exited into the main causeway, the rest ofthe guard detachment was no longer there. Aestius frowned. “Where are they?”Lucius asked. The guard would not have abandoned their posts for any reason. Ifpressed, they could have withdrawn into the narrow hallway and hidden or easilyheld off the mob inside the close quarters.
Flavius pointed to the ground with his sword. “Blood, sir.This doesn’t look right.”
Aestius went down on one knee and touched the blooddroplets. His fingers came away smeared with red-the blood was still wet. Helooked around, as did Lucius. Not another person was in sight.
“It’s awfully quiet,” Aura suddenly interjected, makingLucius and the other men start with surprise. “If we’re going to leave, thenlet’s leave,” she complained.
Lucius looked to Aestius, whose jaw firmed as he made adecision. “This way, My Lord,” he said, pointing along the causeway as hestepped forward himself. “Move quickly, now. I don’t like the look of this. Wehave to get you out of here.”
The more corpulent Lucius struggled to keep up with thefitter soldiers as they broke into a steady jog. Aura kicked off her shoes soshe could move faster, and he struggled to keep up with her. Aestius ledthe small party down a staircase that brought them to the main concourse level.Lucius saw light ahead, and streets packed with people, raucous with noise andconfusion. “This way to the ostrichines,” Aestius called, leading the partyaround a last curve in the concourse.
Lucius paused to rest his arm against the wall. His lungswere on fire, and his breath came in gasps. “Come on, My Lord, we have to leavehere, now!” Flavius pulled at Lucius’s other arm, urging him forward.
They ran past overturned vendor stands below beautifullypainted murals. Their feet clattered over tessellated floors commemorating thefirst mecha-gladiator battle. Then Aestius halted abruptly, throwing his arm upto stop the others. “Shhhhh!” he hissed, pushing Lucius and Aura against thewall. Flavius backed up and knelt down. “Listen.”
Lucius heard voices farther down the concourse, close to theentrance. He leaned cautiously forward and saw a large group of armed menguarding the entrance. They were in legionnaire uniforms, but something didn’tseem quite right about them. Flavius pointed to the weapons and whispered toAestius about Gallic swords and small round bucklers that had gone out of styleamong even poor mercenary outfits long ago.
The two guards crept forward and listened for a moment, thenpulled back. “They look like our guys, but they don’t really act like them.They’ve got gear that isn’t standard, and I don’t recognize their accents,”Flavius reported.
Aestius nodded agreement. “Could be Germans, maybe evenNortlanders, but I’m not certain.”
“Nonsense!” Lucius interrupted. “Those men are legionariesand will be perfectly willing to help us get out of here.”