Ultima Read Free

sir.”
    The craft was descending now, with a rattle of chains as ground anchors were dropped from a lower deck. Quintus grabbed his cloak from where he had flung it over the back of a chair and tied it around his neck, checked his sword and
ballista
were at his belt, and jammed his plumed helmet on his head.
    Gnaeus frowned his lips. “You’re going to interrogate them yourself, sir?”
    â€œBy Christ’s tears I am.”
    â€œI think it’s best if you approach these people with an open mind. If I may say so.”
    â€œHmm. If they are Brikanti or Xin, I need to observe the proper diplomatic protocols before I throw their arses in the brig—is that your thinking?”
    â€œSir, we didn’t bring these people here. I mean, on the
Malleus Jesu
. And so the only way they can have got here—”
    Somehow this elementary observation hadn’t impressed itself on Quintus’s consciousness. “Unless they walked hundreds of miles from one of the indigenous Hatches, the only way is through
that
Hatch. Which we ourselves constructed—”
    â€œAnd which has evidently connected itself to the wider network of Hatches, just as it should. But we don’t know
where
that connection will have been made to. Perhaps to some place even more exotic than the cities of far Xin.”
    Quintus, through his temper, saw the sense behind this reasoning. “So we don’t know where they’re from, how they got here, or what they can do. Therefore we don’t know what threat they may represent to us, the ship, our mission. Even the Empire.”
    â€œNo, sir.”
    â€œWell, the sooner we find out the better. Let’s get this over with. Back me up,
optio
.” And he strode without hesitation to the stair to the lower deck.
    Behind him he heard the
optio
snap out commands, hastily assembling a guard unit from on-duty legionaries.
    It was a relief for Quintus to hit the ground at the bottom of the ladder, to leave the confinement of the aerial whale and to be able to stride out toward the intruders, putting all his energies into the simple action of walking. To work out his frustrations in motion, in physical exercise: that had been his way since he had been a young bull of a raw recruit in Legio XC Victrix, unable to combat the shadows of privilege, preference and nepotism that had blighted his career in the army from the very beginning. Walking was one thing, but having somebody to punch out would be even better.
    But that didn’t appear to be a likely option today. The two elderly intruders just stood there by the Hatch emplacement, watching him approach. They looked somewhat startled—as you might, he thought, if you had just passed through the mysteries of a Hatch itself—but they did not seem afraid, did not seem daunted by the prospect of a fully armed centurion of the Roman army bearing down on them as if he had a kernel up his arse.
    One of them, the man, even called out—something. The words sounded vaguely familiar to Quintus, the accent odd, stilted.
    Time for a parade-ground bellow, Quintus decided.

3
    The craft overhead was like a tremendous airship. It moved smoothly, silently. It bore a symbol on its outer envelope, crossed axes with a Christian cross in the background, and lettering above:
    S P Q R
    Anchors of some kind were dropped from a fancy-looking gondola. When the craft had drifted to a halt, a rope ladder unrolled to the ground. And as Yuri Eden and Stef Kalinski watched, astonished, a hatch opened, and a man clambered down the ladder.
    As soon as he reached the ground, the man started toward them. He wore a plumed helmet, and a scarlet cloak over what looked like a bearskin tunic. His lower legs were bare, above strapped-up boots. He had a sword on one hip, and a gaudy-looking handgun in a holster on the other.
    Yuri called, “Who the hell are you?”
    The man, striding steadily, started shouting back:
“Fortasse