Horace’s smile revealed several missing teeth among theyellow survivors. “Actually, it was the sister, but I won’t make your virginears bleed with such tales of debauchery.”
Julius snickered and shook his head in amazement. What somemen did for fun was insanity to him.
“You ladies having a picnic up here?” a steely voice calledup from the ladder. A moment later the centurion’s head appeared above theplatform.
“Sir!” Both men stood at attention and saluted. CenturionVibius frowned at them. Julius sucked in a breath, waiting for thedressing-down he knew Vibius was about to launch.
Beside him, a wide-eyed Horace threw up his arm. “Sir!Begging your pardon, but there’s an airship on approach.” He pointed to the southeast.
Vibius turned to follow his outstretched arm with his eyes.Julius squinted, releasing the pent breath in a slight gasp. In the distance,sun glanced off a tiny black speck that had appeared from behind a clump offoliage. Horace carried the tripod over to the tower’s east side and adjustedthe articulating legs, then stepped back. Vibius leaned over the eyepiece androtated the interior lenses using the small dial on the side of the brass tube.Julius could imagine what Vibius was seeing: the distant airship leaping intoview, perhaps sending a critical message. Or was this part of the exercise?
Vibius pulled a pad of paper and a grease pencil out of hispocket. “Do either of you two know how to write?” he asked. Julius noddedhesitantly. Vibius handed him the pad and pencil. “Copy down exactly what Itell you to.”
Julius handed his plumbata and shield to Horace, whoadjusted his own arms to accommodate them without comment. “Ready, sir.”
“N … c … y … p … i … c … k … u … p … a …l … e … r … t.”
Julius wrote all the letters down, but only a few thingswere popping out for him. Centurion Vibius continued deciphering more letters.
“E … m … e … r … g … e … n … c … y-okay,they are starting to repeat now. Did you figure out the message?” Vibius asked.
Horace was peering over Julius’s shoulder. “Caesar here haswritten gobbledly-gook,” he exclaimed. “I don’t know what ncypick means.”
Julius shoved him with his shoulder, knocking the man offbalance. “That’s not the word. It says ‘emergency pickup alert.’ What does thatmean, sir?”
Vibius seemed to tense. Julius could see lines ofconcentration forming at the corners of his eyes. The centurion moved over tothe pneumatic siren mounted on the tower parapet and began to rotate its lever.With each rotation, the siren gradually increased in volume, starting at a lowwhine and growing to an ear-splitting scream. It instantly dashed Julius’ssleepiness. Below, the camp burst into a bustle of activity. Men ran this way andthat, snapping on armor and lacing up boots.
Vibius stopped the siren and ordered Horace, “Get down thereand inform the tribune that we have company. Recommend we prepare to close upcamp.” Horace nodded and slid down the ladder, feet not even touching therungs.
“Stay up here, keep an eye on them, and sing out if theychange course for any reason,” the centurion said to Julius, who nodded andmoved to occupy Vibius’s position as the centurion followed Horace down theladder, shouting commands as he went.
Julius ducked his head to look through the viewfinder at theairship as it inched closer. What are you doing here? What has happened?he wondered.
~ * * * ~
The airship took the extraordinary step of actually landingin the meadow next to the small hill where the 13th had constructed their base.They moved the entire cohort into the ship, filling the airship to the brimwith men and equipment, both on the outside decks and inside, clogging thehallways, storage rooms, and crew quarters. Two hours later they were ready todepart, leaving behind a muddy, rutted hilltop littered with the occasionalpiece of discarded or forgotten equipment where a small, standard patternlegion fort had stood.
Word had circulated through the 13th very quickly thatsomething had happened. The airship crew professed innocence and rebuffed anyfurther attempts to learn more. The legionnaires were of two minds. One opinionwas that the crew legitimately knew nothing. The second opinion was that thecrewmen knew and were ordered directly not to tell anyone. Most men aroundJulius seemed to believe the first as the more likely, since most airmen wereabout as tight-lipped as an opera singer.
Julius was packed into one of the forward weapons bays,tight against the metal hull of the airship. Third, fourth, and fifth squadswere packed into the bay like sardines. Julius wondered if the ship had comefor the entire cohort, or just the tribune. Tribune Appius had been spiritedaway with the airship captain almost as soon as the lines had secured the shipto the makeshift landing zone.
A legionnaire sitting nearby pulled out a pack of cards.“So, comrades, who is ready to lose some money?”
One deck above, in Captain Alexandros’ quarters, TribuneAppius absently swirled fine Hiberian whiskey in a tumbler. “You’re certainthis message is genuine?” he asked for the fifth time.
“Completely, Your Lordship. It came on the proper letterheadand the security procedures were followed. They even used a skimmer to get ithere. That’s a top-level message, as genuine as you can make it. So I have tobelieve it’s the truth.” Alexandros paused and took a sip of his whiskey.
At a buzz from the plugged speaking tube, he leaned over anduncorked the tube, listened for a second, then acknowledged the message with acurt, “Go for launch.” He looked at Constantine. “We’re ready for liftoff.Everyone is on board.”
The tribune nodded, then took another sip of the fineliquor. It burned down his throat, but helped ease the pain of discovering hewas now the last surviving male heir to the Appian Imperial Dynasty. Uttersadness crept up on him.
He had never really gotten along with his brother. They hadbeen born several years apart, and enjoyed different interests. The olderLucius had been groomed as the heir to the throne since he could walk. Knowingthe fate of a nation rested in his hands tended to change a person’s outlook. Ofcourse, in his case, that fate rested in his large and meaty hands,Constantine thought. I suppose this means I’ll have to leave the legion. Forthe first time in my life, I finally felt like I belonged somewhere.Another part of Constantine countered, You have a duty to your father and toyour nation. Do not whine and complain because of the circumstances.
Captain Alexandros had been watching him. Now, in an obviouseffort to bring the tribune out of his somber musings, he said briskly, “Cometo the bridge with me to watch the takeoff. You’ll get a great view.”
Constantine nodded and silently followed the captain as heslid open the oak-paneled door and walked down the hallway, squeezing pastcrewmembers and legionnaires alike, airmen saluting the captain and thelegionnaires placing fist to chest for the tribune. This ship was a beehive ofactivity, and it took the better part of ten minutes to get from the captain’squarters aft to the bridge in the forward compartment.
“Captain on the bridge!” cried a petty officer near thehatch as they entered.
“At ease, resume your duties,” Alexandros said quickly. “Arewe ready for liftoff?”
“Ready and awaitin’ your orders, Cap’n,” the watch officerinformed him. “Ballast tanks are full and all compartments are secured. HeliumDivision reports all is ready and chambers are at full capacity. We’re as readyas we can be.”
Alexandros nodded. “Excellent, Mr. Flanos. Take us up,please; one-half thrust.”
The officer opened the speaking tube to the engine room andrelayed the captain’s command. Constantine felt the vibration in the flooringas the steam boiler’s crankshaft was connected and the massive propellers beganto slowly rotate at the rear of the ship.
“Ailerons to full raised position. Anchor lines off. Closehelium bleed-offs.”