Agrippina

  The absolute worst thing about Helvius Priscus was the way he ate, somewhat reminiscent of the enormous taurus that one roamed Father’s estate on Etrus: genetically modified beasts of burden that chew fodder twenty-one hours a day, lips never meeting at they grind away mindlessly. He was quite rge himself, only dwarfed in our century by Maxima. Depending on the meal, he could be heard no matter where at our table I sat. Every day for a week I had silently pleaded with Father’s ghost to put my out of my misery already and free me from this aural purgatory.

  On this day, we ate bnd porridge and even bnder toast; it is my least favorite variety of tedious fare on the Legio I. The meals were mass produced on a regur rotation deep in the ship’s fabricator section and the taste left much to be desired, especially for someone who grew up on Etrus. The fourth pnet from Sol and the Bosom of the Empire, it was the source of most luxury food eaten by the elites in every society; a major source of Rome’s wealth and power.

  Helvius’ favorite commendation lets him have dry and nearly tasteless nachos out of rotation, as he had on that afternoon, loudly and unceasingly crunching as he grazes. On either side of him, his lovers Caius and Urien were engaged in a pointlessly heated debate.

  “That makes absolutely no sense,” Caius was nearly shouting, “why would we waste months using the sling to double back to the Hermiad? There are ripe pickings on Titan’s children no less than two weeks further out.” He was bright and energetic, if somewhat twitchy, and even to me he was a shockingly gorgeous young man. “The Freeholds will never unite to oppose us, it should be easy for a few legions to cleave those on this side of the Styx and earn more tribute than Gaius will ever need.

  Roman emperors were held in the highest esteem by most— called Father and Princeps and Dominus— but in the legions he was simply known as Gaius; this is the Roman Way. Urien, however, was a conquered and integrated barbarian. He winced at Caius’ perceived ck of respect. “The Republics are much closer to Terra. The pose a critical threat to the Imperium. Most of the legions are deployed to Anatolia, to stand against them. Just st week, the Legio VI was reunched as Herminius and sent into Olympos’ pull. The Imperator clearly knows that a strike is being prepared by the Liberatii in case we overextend into the outer systems.” The Anatolian barbarian was one of our most recent recruits and he trusted our Emperor’s virtues fanatically. Despite his strategic mind, though, he was the st man who would admit that our Emperor has none.

  “The Republics may have the manpower but they ck technological superiority. The scientists we can ensve in the Freeholds— especially once we can extend into Styx herself— would make the legions unstoppable. Imagine your drones skipping around the battlefield like that Spartan did; imagine what else they have in reserve!”

  Urien looked unconvinced but before he could could respond, the tiny Freeholder at the end of the table, Niall, quietly interjected, “Do you think they managed to extract intel from the crew?” I shuddered; since the battle I had done my best not to think about the three women that I delivered into Acinus’ hands. Their fates would be gruesome: tortured for weeks at the hands of Praetorian agents, desecrated and handed over to whomever held the Prefect Primus favored at the moment. Cruelty was the point and sessions with prisoners were highly publicized, especially in foreign propaganda; one more tool of the Imperium to prevent future conflicts. It never worked— revenge is a most potent motivation— but the Roman Way was founded on tradition, not reason.

  I looked up; tuning out the lovers as they began to bicker about the new topic, I scanned the faces in the room. As I often did, I found myself wishing that Maxima were here with me. She was the only person on the Legio I I found even remotely interesting. The men of my century were kind and never mistreated me, but they were a dull bunch. Most were barbarians or uranians— the Roman name for men who loved their own sex. Some, like Urien and Niall, were both.

  No matter how kind they were, none of them knew what I was. Perhaps one of the Hermian barbarians, like Urien, had obtained the same sort of illegal treatments as me, transcending to match their souls shape, but those histories were carried in secret. Only Maxima knew my past; only my Demigod was worthy of knowing all of me.

  I should have kept my eyes on my porridge; instead, they met the cold dead eyes of Father. He stood by the far exit, face stern and hands csped behind his back. It had been a week to the day since he had begun stalking my waking hours; I had rarely slept and rarely finished a meal. My stomach turned and I sighed heavily as I squeezed my eyelids shut.

  “You’ve been off, Domitilus. For nearly a week.” Lommàn was quiet and his voice was devoid of judgment. A Graecian barbarian, as close to a friend as I had on the cruiser, he was rail thin, barely one hundred and fifty cm and mostly unenhanced. It was amazing that he managed to pass the physical exams, but he was the second best immunes in the Legion and a highly respected soldier. “Have you been to medical?

  I shook my head and met his concerned gaze, affecting a confident half smirk. “I haven’t been sleeping well tely, that’s all.” His worry was genuine but mispced. The st thing I was going to do was report to a medical officer that I see my dead father every time I open my eyes. As a young child, I learned quickly that few would believe my visions. I stood, pushing my remaining meal toward Helvius who nodded appreciatively at me. “I’m just going to take a nap before next duty shift. Don’t worry about me.” I gave father another quick gnce, confirmed he still stood watching me, and then headed into the corridor through the opposite exit.

  He was haunting my days, when I fell asleep his crooked and pale finger continued to accuse me. My cybernetic impnts were keeping me going on a constant drop of combat stimunts; designed to extend combat readiness, they were rated for three days of continuous use. I hadn’t slept for longer than an hour at a time and even that was only something I could do with Maxima holding me, her enormous arms enveloping me and keeping the chill of death away.

  I turned into the corridor that led to the nearest gym rather than futilely trying to sleep in our cabin without her. It was rarely a challenge for me to meet the physical requirements of service but during that week I have spent every rec shift in the gym. My impnts repaired my muscles at an increased rate, my bones were reinforced; my body was modified in nearly every pce, even ignoring the illegal genetic mods. I wouldn’t need to worry about over-exhaustion yet, but I had only a few more days before things started going very wrong inside me. Even a body as divine as mine had limits.

  The future had taken longer than I had expected on that first night, waking over and over again with the feeling of the execution order on my finger tips. My dreams had come true before, had always been a conduit from the Gods. When I was a child, it was dismissed as an imagination and clever inventiveness, but I had been touched. At two years, I died in my sleep and my soul reached the river Styx. Mother begged Venus and Plouton to spare her child; I awoke in a surgical suite, screaming in agony, a piece of my skull removed. The dreams had begun the next time I slept.

  Walking down the corridor, I’d begun to wonder whether death was the only outcome if I were to be outed. The Legate Primus wouldn’t overlook a woman like me, a Lucia, but perhaps exile would be my fate. My execution would lead to embarrassing reports, detailing how I’d tricked him and bested all of the men of his legion despite being an abomination. Instead, he could force Maxima and I to desert, officially marking us as casualties of the next battle the cruiser engaged in. My barbarian and I could hide on some moon instaltion, her plying a trade while I took care of our many cats.

  She would like that, I thought to myself.

  ***

  My breath came out bored as I stood next to the running machine drinking water. I had been the only person in the gym for some time: two uranians were wrestling but they had left some time during my run. I didn’t know them but they hid the fire that burned between them poorly. I had half-expected them to rutt on the mat like I weren’t in the room.

  I set myself in front of the mirrored wall, a small fifty kg bar in each hand. The ultra-dense metal rods gripped in my fingers cooled my skin as I began the first set. Trying to ignore the corpse in the corner gring at me, I lifted both bars out to my sides like they weighed no more than feathers. I held the pose and grinned at the way that my bandeau and skimshorts fit perfectly on my body. My body.

  The door chimed and I could see several men filing into the room behind me, reflected in the mirror. I recognize a few, all from the first century— the century led by Acinus, the men who fly the cruiser. Like the Primus, all of these men were patricians: Romans who were born on Terra, or elsewhere in the Imperium to two patrician parents. I was novos, born of a Roman man and an Etrian woman, my mother’s barbarian blood marking me as impure. It didn’t matter to true Romans that Etrus had been within the empire for nearly as long as there was an empire, we were barbarians all the same.

  “Congratutions on winning second century.” Acinus’ first had a wolf-like face and a grin that made my skin crawl. His eyes roamed my body like he had some cim to it. He came within a few meters and leaned against a set of weights. “We heard a lot about you; you brought the Primus his little prize. I get to pilot it during his triumph.” He added the st sentence with a cocksure grin.

  “I simply honor my goddess by conquering Jupiter’s enemies in her name—” His eyes darkened as I started to curl the weights toward my chest, holding them for a few seconds before slowly lowering them again, my eyes locked on the reflection of his in the mirror, “— I am but her humble vessel.” Proper Romans always gave their due to Mars when serving in the legions, but I was far from a proper Roman. “What do you want, Calvus?”

  “Your centurion seems to favor you, Agrippina, despite having her pick of capable men.” He said my name with a tone that I couldn’t quite pce, like a secret deep inside him was struggling to break free. It chilled me to the bone. “Two women, one a half-blood and a barbarian freak, pying at being soldiers. You should be cautious around her; too much longer and you may struggle to find a husband when you wash out.” Too te, I realized that his entourage had fanned out behind me, forming a perimeter ten or so meters away. I knew what was happening and I did not like my chances. The cybernetics embedded in my system may have been the best money could buy but I was vastly outnumbered. I knew I could take a few of them easily— most immunes could only afford the piloting impnts rather than the full suite— but not this many. Worse, being the scion of a prominent patrician family, Calvus was likely as enhanced as I was.

  He took a few steps toward me while he continued. “Look, I came here to offer you a way out, in good faith. You can marry my both Otho.” He motioned to the grinning man with graying temples to his left. “You’ve earned enough honor to gain citizenship.” The st word was spit out: to the disgust of most patricians, novos who served and accepted sterilization were given citizenship. To keep the breeding pool pure. “You’ll even have some exciting stories to tell while sipping tea with the other wives.”

  His men snickered like a pack of hyenas maneuvering around prey. “Fuck off, Calvus,” my eyes darted to the second man, “You fuck off too, Otho.” I gripped the weights in my hands so tight that my knuckles turned white. “I’m not here for a husband, I’m here so I can walk in Elysium with my goddess when I die.”

  Calvus chuckled menacingly as the frenzy of men closed in around me. “Women don’t see the Fields without a husband. A woman—” again, the same tone, “— like you need to be broken, like a mare.”

  I brought the bars up to my chest as the first man reached me, quickly punching one fist to the left of his sternum. I heard the snap of bones, confirming that he was unenhanced. He wheezed and gurgled, trying to pull air into his punctured lung. The next man reached me but hesitated with his arms out as his comrade colpsed. I wheeled around and released a bar at a third, the wet sound of his cybernetic eye popping confirmed a hit.

  A hand nded on my side, an attempt to grapple. I took the thumb in my free hand and twisted hard enough that I heard a pop. Dropping the other bar at my feet, I gripped his arm and spun us both around, sending him into the nearby mirror. Otho came at me as I tried to right myself; he was clumsy but strong, definitely enhanced. Time had begun to slow, an effect of the combat stims being pumped through my blood by my cybernetic suite. I used Otho's momentum as he charged to send him into another man.

  As I wheeled back around, Calvus reached me. Deflecting his first punch, I smashed upward into his nose with my palm; being as enhanced as I am, the nose is one of his few soft points. I got a satisfyingly angry, "Fuck!" as he grasped at the fountain of red on his face.

  Something hard hit the back of my head at surprising velocity. An unenhanced skull would have caved in; I merely bcked out as my brain was jarred around. I awoke again when my face smacked into the mat below me. Four hands gripped me tightly and hauled me up to see Calvus. He stood holding his broken nose, blood pouring down his chest, his voice shrill like a hawk. “You fucking bitch!”

  His boot hit my nose with the same fervor as my fist, returning the favor. Calvus hoisted me up onto my knees— my braids coiled around one of his fists— and nodded for his men to release me. My head was swimming, my impnts shifted entirely to pain suppression; not entirely numb but extremely dull, a delicate bance my neurology maintained to keep me in the fight. He tossed me back into the rack of weights; I was free, temporarily, but in no state to take advantage. My brain barely received the signals when he brought his magboot down onto my left knee as hard as he could. There was a sickening metal whine, then another flood of pain suppressants. The hands returned to my arms, pinning me to the floor.

  Calvus unbuckled his jumpsuit at the groin. “You should have taken my offer, woman.” Oh, I thought as I finally pced his tone. “Otho didn’t even care that you had a cock; he’d marry anyone. But the Primus said you were mine to deal with and I’m no longer feeling generous.” His wolf grin stretched sickeningly as he began to kneel on top of me; my intact knee came up into his crotch, sending him reeling back. “Other! Publius! Fucking hold her, you fucks!” he screams with tears in his eyes.

  He stomped down on my right knee. I didn’t feel the bending metal as it shredded muscle and skin, but I did hear it. Father stood over his shoulder and stared down at me, his eyes suddenly alive with a mix of rage and satisfaction. “I’m going to have a good time, lucia, and then I’m going to cut your fucking head off and toss it out the airlock.” His ughter as he knelt over me again sounded like a raven’s call. Father looked pleased. Calvus leaned close to my face and wiped blood from my lips. “What do you think of that, you fucking cu—”

  A blood of red cut his words suddenly short; his eyes were wide with surprise. I could smell his flesh cooking, could hear the soft sizzle of the spearhead poking through the skin. It spun— tearing the hole in his throat into something fresh and jagged— before disappearing. He fell forward onto my chest, revealing her.

  My demigod stood above him, her eyes burning with intense fury as she thrust her spear into the surprised face of Otho. With another fluid motion, she drew her gdius as Publius leapt at her, cutting him open from belly to nipple. Blood sprayed across the mirror above my head.

  A tunnel slowly wrapped around my vision until she was all I could see. I knew was safe; my body was shutting down, my impnts no longer working overtime to keep me upright. She appeared to burn with holy fire as she tossed the sword aside, then did the same to the corpse crumbled over my p. Her fingers cupped my face as she knelt in front of me. “I have you, starshine. You’re safe… I have you.” For the first time since she took me to bed, there were tears in her eyes. “I’m here.”

  I slipped into the bckness.

  ***

  I stood on an alien terrain; in every direction stretched an endless sea of purple grass dotted occasionally with gnarled trees covered in thick pink needles. The dirt that pressed between my toes was moist and shared its hue with the grass, though it is much darker and richer. Above me was a deep red sky full of jagged preadolescent clouds; the sun above me was swollen and hot, though its light didn’t seem to bother my skin. I found myself staring up into the oddly geometric clouds of vapor for long enough that I was unsure of how long had passed.

  “Daughter, we must speak.”

  I was snapped from my reverie by an indescribably beautiful voice. She sounded like a chorus of women speaking in unison; a rich blend of feminine tones that was unmistakably utters from a single mouth. I beheld a woman who looked exactly like I did, save two things: she was nude and her eyes were pink. Not just her irides; the entire eye was made of rose quartz. Though I could see no pupil, I could feel her gaze on me. Despite her form— perhaps because of it— I knew I was looking at my goddess.

  Venus smiled at me warmly. “We do not have long, my sweet. Listen and do not speak. Every sylble will weaken our connection.” She reached up to cup my face; her rge, elegant hand was impossibly soft against my cheek and I struggled to restrain my thoughts of her body. My body? She giggled— my giggle— and she blushed as I thought about biting her lip.

  “Try to focus, my love.” Her face turned somber, like a dark cloud passed in front of the sun. Her voices blended into a one, thick and soft like velvet. “A war has begun. Minerva and I have been cast out; Jupiter has learned of certain… choices we’ve made and he has refused to hear reason. Mars and Apollo follow his commands blindly, of course.” She giggled at her own words and took my hand, leading me through the tall grass. “To be fair to my family, we have been pnning their murder.” I inhaled sharply to respond but a gnce back at me stopped the words from forming. She continued, “Apollo sent the wraith of your father and released your doctor’s identity. You are my instrument and he intends to either take you from me or break you.”

  We approached a tall pink tree, its branches twisted in every direction. Fallen needles littered the ground and pressed the grass down in a ring underneath its shade. “Diana has not chosen our side, but you can trust no one but her champion; Minerva believes this Maxima is the key to helping my wayward sister see reason. Trust the barbarian as you trust in me.”

  She turned as we reached the tree’s trunk; I noticed that the branches above us were den heavily with red fruits covered in amber spikes. With one hand she reached into the branches and plucked a plump and colorful fruit. She swiftly smmed it against the tree’s trunk and it split in half like a Terran coconut. With a smile, she held the fruit to my lips. “Drink this, child.” The fruit tilted and I opened my mouth, welcoming the thick, sweet liquid down my throat. It fills me with a surprising warmth. “You must survive until Minerva can deliver you. I have upgraded your gifts as much as I can, but I can do nothing for your legs.”

  Suddenly, she grabbed hold of my face and drew me into a kiss— chaste initially, but quickly deepening. My mind raced as she ground her body— my body— against my hips. Fire erupted inside me, lighting a primordial desire to give myself entirely over to the goddess who wears my skin. She pulled away from me just as the fire became intolerable and giggled at me. “Okay, that is what you must know. I do not know when, if ever, we will speak like this again. The connection is still holding: you can ask me a question, my love.” Her mouth glistened hungrily.

  There were an infinite number of questions in my mind; more than the number of stars in the sky. There is only one thing I can ask, though. The only question I’ve wanted to ask her, the question that has burned in my chest since the first time Father hit me. A question seared into my mind decades before on my childhood deathbed.

  “Why me?”

  Her smile grew soft and sad, though she still smiled. A tear pooled under a glistening pink eye. “Oh, sweet child. I am so, so sorry.” She pressed her forehead against mine; her voice cracked.

  “You chose me.”