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accipio oratio stridens vestri. Sum Quintus Fabius, centurio navis stellae
Malleus Jesu
. Quid estis, quid agitis in hac provincia? Et quid est mixti lingua vestri? Germanicus est? Non dubito quin vos ex Germaniae Exteriorae. Cognovi de genus vestri prius. Bene? Quam respondebitis mihi?”
    Always another door, Yuri thought. “Let me handle this.” He spread his hands and walked forward, toward the angry stranger.
    â€¢Â Â Â â€¢Â Â Â â€¢
    â€œI think I understand your guttural speech. I am Quintus Fabius, Centurion of the star vessel
Malleus Jesu
. Who are you, and what are you doing in this province? And what is that mongrel tongue of yours? German, is it? From Outer Germania, no doubt. I’ve dealt with your sort before. Well? What have you got to say for yourselves?”
    The fellow said something to his female companion, and walked forward, apparently undaunted. But at least he spread his hands, Quintus observed, showing he was unarmed.
    Gnaeus Junius caught up with Quintus, panting. Glancing over his shoulder, Quintus saw a small squad of legionaries had followed the
optio
, all according to regulations. “You’re out of breath, Gnaeus. Double your daily exercise period for the rest of the month.”
    â€œThank you, sir. Do you really think they’re from Outer Germania? Well, I suppose you should know.”
    â€œAnd why’s that, Gnaeus Junius? Because, even though my mother tongue is a purer Latin than yours, my father was from Germania Inferior and my mother was from Belgica, which to the likes of you means I may as well be
transrhenus
myself, is that it?”
    â€œOf course not, sir.”
    â€œWe’re not all moon worshippers and bear shaggers, you know.”
    â€œI’m relieved to hear it, sir.”
    â€œAnd my ancestors did put up a hell of a fight. The legions had to drive us all the way to the coast of the Mare Suevicum before they were subdued.”
    â€œAs you’ve pointed out before, sir.”
    â€œSo don’t try to flatter me, Gnaeus Junius.”
    â€œSir—”
    â€œYou’re very bad at it—”
    â€œ
Sir.
The intruder is doing something with his pack.”
    Quintus saw that the man had turned away from his companion, the woman, and she was opening up the pack on his back for him. Quintus and Gnaeus immediately drew their
ballistae
, their handguns. Quintus heard the senior man of the squad behind him murmur brusque commands.
    The male stranger, seeing the Romans’ reaction, spread his empty palms wide once more and again called out.
    â€œWe should jump them,” Quintus said.
    â€œGive them a moment, sir,” Gnaeus said. “They’re speaking again. That tongue does sound more Germanic than not. But, you know, I would swear I can hear a
third
voice, neither the man’s nor the woman’s.”
    Quintus glanced around sharply. The two strangers were alone. “Your hearing is either better than mine,
optio
, or worse.”
    â€œAs if it’s coming from the pack on the man’s back . . .”
    â€œA belly-speaker? But we are rather far from any theater here. I’ll not be amused by trickery.”
    The woman was closing up the pack now. Evidently she had found what she wanted. She held two compact nodules of a smooth, white substance, like small marble pebbles.
    â€œWhatever that is,” Gnaeus murmured, “it’s surely too small to be a weapon.”
    â€œNow who’s jumping to conclusions?”
    The woman handed one of the nodules to her companion. They were both watchful of the Romans, and were evidently endeavoring to make sure Quintus’s men could see everything they were doing. Cautiously, they each pressed a nodule into one ear.
    And when the man spoke again, Quintus was startled to discover he could understand his words.
    â€œIs the translation correct? Can you understand me?”
    â€œHe speaks Latin,” Gnaeus