Muses of Roma (Codex Antonius Book 1) Read Online Free Page B

sighed. “How much?”
    Nestor pulled on his short, black beard and licked his lips. “Five hundred sesterces for a ten-canister case.”
    “Five hundred—!”
    “Centuriae, raptors are not native to this star system so they are hard to come by on the waystation. They must be imported from a Roman aviary, or a Lost World. The closest Lost World aviary is four way line jumps away.”
    Kaeso rubbed a hand over the coarse stubble on his head. “Can't we just this once skip the ritual?”
    Nestor paled. “We cannot jump without the gods approval or protection, Centuriae. We could get stuck between realities, thrown off course into unknown space or a star or a planet—”
    “Fine,” Kaeso said. “Talk to Lucia and she'll send the funds to your tabulari. But only buy enough for this jump. We'll need the rest of the money in the ship's purse for bribes when we get to Menota.” If Vallutus still hires us once he’s seen the ship.
    “Yes, Centuriae. Thank you.”
    Kaeso walked on, then turned. “Don’t go into Bay Two. Gravity's out there.”
    Nestor stopped. “Do you know when it will be fixed? I need to get a new delta generator battery.”
    “Why not recharge the one already in the machine?”
    “It's not taking a charge anymore. I just checked.”
    “The one in Bay Two is our last battery.”
    “Do you want me to buy a new one when I get the raptor gizzards?”
    Kaeso thought a second, then shook his head. “We'll just have to take our chances for this job. We can't afford it until we get paid. Maybe luck will be with us for a change.”
    Nestor smiled. “There is no such thing as luck, Centuriae. Only the will of the gods.”
    “Right.”
    Kaeso squeezed around a corner and arrived at the crew compartments. Blaesus stood outside his quarters staring inside. The former Senator wore the usual outfit he wore for potential clients—a ceremonial white toga over his white Liberti merchant jump suit. Kaeso thought he looked dressed for a funeral.
    “You almost got it, boy,” Blaesus said.
    “This one?” a voice responded from inside.
    “No, the one next to your left foot. Yes, that one. There you go.”
    A scroll flew out of the room, hit the wall behind Blaesus, and then dropped as it encountered the corridor’s gravity field. Blaesus picked it up, unrolled it, and sighed.
    “I knew that boy was good for something,” Blaesus muttered to Kaeso, “besides the arena.”
    Kaeso stopped next to Blaesus. Flamma Africanus floated in the zero grav inside Blaesus’s hatch, reaching for the maps and scrolls bumping around the room. The tall, lanky Egyptian cursed every time he knocked his head on the walls or ceiling.
    “At least there’s more room in the arena,” Flamma grumbled.
    “You never set foot in an arena, my boy. Your golems did.”
    “I saw through their eyes. I felt their pain— Cac! ” Flamma rubbed his head where he’d slammed it against the bulkhead. “Need anything else? I’m more beat up grabbing your scraps than I ever got in the arena.”
    Kaeso grinned. “You boys have things under control here. I’ll check on that gravity fix.”
    “Please do, Centuriae,” Blaesus said. “I’d like to sleep in my quarters tonight.”
    “Oh, and Blaesus, don’t wear the toga around Vallutus. Romans make him nervous. Especially politicians.”
    “Centuriae, the toga is who I am. You might as well ask me to cut off an arm.”
    “I'll do it,” Flamma said, landing in the corridor. “Ax or saw?”
    Blaesus frowned. “Your bloodlust knows no bounds, gladiator. Centuriae, a toga shows I respect a client enough to wear the best clothing I have. Lucia is wearing her old Legionnaire uniform, am I right? Now that would make any barbarian nervous.”
    “She's wearing her Liberti merchant whites,” Kaeso said. “Quite different from Legion red.”
    “Still too militaristic for my taste,” Blaesus said.
    “Stow the toga, Blaesus.”
    The old Senator heaved a great sigh. “Very well,