‘I can look after myself.’

‘Good. Do so, and come to me when you fail. Is that clear?’

‘Yes. Thank you.’

‘Very well. Now we should pay attention to these little boys with their quarrel …’

Quintus Fabius’s voice boomed out, cutting through the arguments. ‘Titus Valerius, you old rogue! At last you show your face. I might have known you were behind all this trouble.’

Through the crowd, Stef could see one of the legionaries being pushed, apparently reluctantly, to the front of a mob of unhappy men. He was burly, with his bare head shaved close, a grizzled grey – and, Stef saw, one arm terminated in a stump, encased in a wooden cylinder. ‘Centurion, don’t take it out on me. And it wasn’t me who set the principia alight. On the contrary, it was me who organised the bucket chains that—’

‘Pah! Don’t give me that, you devil. You were trouble when you were under my father’s command and now you’re just as much trouble under mine.’

Titus sighed heavily. ‘Ah, well, if I could afford to retire I would have long ago, sir, you know that, and I’d take my daughter Clodia home for a decent education and a quiet life, away from the ruffians of your command.’

‘Ha!’ Quintus waved a hand at the fort. ‘This is your retirement, you dolt. A city to command. A world to conquer! Why, I’ll appoint you head of the senate if you like.’

‘Fancy titles aren’t for me, sir. And neither is this world.’

‘The Malleus leaves in under a month, and you won’t be on it. And if you haven’t sorted yourselves out by then—’

‘But that’s impossible, sir! That’s what we tried to tell you. That’s why we had to set the principia alight, to make you listen!’

‘I thought you said it wasn’t you—’

Titus grabbed his commander’s arm with his one hand. ‘Listen to me, sir. Our crops won’t grow here. The wheat, the barley, even Valhalla potatoes fail and they grow anywhere. The soil’s too dry! Or there’s something wrong with it, something missing  … You know me, sir. I’m no farmer.’

‘Yes, and you’re not much of a soldier either.’

‘No matter what we do, and we’ve been stirring our shit into this dirt for months now, nothing’s working. Why, this reminds me of a time on campaign when—’

‘Spare me your anecdotes. Shit harder, man!’

‘It’s not just the dirt, sir.’ Titus glanced up at the sky, at the rising second sun of this world. ‘Some say that bastard Remus is getting bigger.’

‘Bigger?’

‘This world, this sun, is spinning in towards it. What then, sir? It’s hot enough here as it is. If we are to be scorched by two suns—’

‘Rubbish!’ Quintus proclaimed boldly.

The response was angry heckling. He faced the mob bravely, but men on both sides of the argument had their hands on the hilts of their swords.

Stef murmured to Movena, ‘Do the men have a point?’

‘Well, they’re right about the second sun. This world circles the big ugly star you see up there – that’s called Romulus; Romans always call double stars Romulus and Remus. But Romulus and Remus circle a common centre of their own – they loop towards and away from each other like mating birds, or like the two bright stars of the Centaur’s Hoof, the nearest system to Terra. In a few years, as that second sun swims close, this world will get decidedly hotter than it is now – and then, a few more decades after that when it recedes, it will get colder.’

Stef wondered if this wretched planet was doomed to orbit out of its star’s habitable zone, when the twin got too close – or even receded too far away. ‘Has anybody modelled this? I mean, worked out how the climate will change?’

‘I doubt it. And even if they had, no matter how dire the warning, the orders for these men and their families would not vary. From the point of view of the imperial strategists snug in their villas on the outskirts of Greater Rome, you see, worlds are simple. They are habitable, or they are not. If they are not, they may be ignored. If they are, they must be inhabited, by colonia such as this one. Inhabited and farmed. It is just as the Romans took every country in their reach and appended it as a province – all but Pritanike, of course, thanks to the wisdom of Queen Kartimandia, and we Brikanti escaped their net. If this world is not habitable after all for some subtle, long-term reason, bad luck for the colonists. But at least the Xin won’t have it. Do you see? Though I must say it will be unfortunate if the very crops won’t grow here—’

‘I can make soil.’

The ColU’s voice came clearly from Yuri’s backpack. Yuri, reluctantly being examined by the Greek doctor, looked alarmed at the sudden direct communication.

The Brikanti ship’s commander was surprised too. Then, without hesitation, she marched over to Yuri, shoved him around so she could get at his pack, opened it, and peered at the components inside. ‘What trickery is this?’

‘No trickery, trierarchus. I am a machine. An autonomous colonisation unit. I am designed to assist humans in the conquest of alien worlds. And in particular, I can make soil.’

‘If this is true—’

‘Soil is a complex of organisms, many of them microscopic, and nutrients of various kinds. If one of those is missing on this world, I will detect it, and with suitable equipment can begin the synthesis of supplements, the breeding of organisms. Trierarchus, I can make soil.’

‘And your price?’

‘Safety for myself and my companions.’

Movena considered. ‘You know, I believe you. Impossible as it seems – but then you two, you three, are walking, talking impossibilities already, aren’t you? If Quintus Fabius believes this too – and, I suspect, if he buys off Titus Valerius by offering him and his daughter a ride off this dust bowl – then perhaps the situation can be resolved. And all you want is safety?’

Yuri was racked by a coughing spasm. The doctor, looking concerned, helped him to sit.

‘Safety,’ said the ColU from the pack that was still on Yuri’s back, ‘and medical attention for my friend.’

Movena grinned. ‘How pleasing it will be for me to deliver this miracle to the arrogant Romans. Let me talk to Quintus.’

CHAPTER 5

AD 2213; AUC 2966

By the time the Nail struck Mercury the ISF spacecraft Tatania had already been travelling for three days. The ship had headed straight out from the Earth-moon system, away from the sun, and was more than three times as far from the sun as the Earth, when Beth Eden Jones picked up a fragmentary message from her mother.

‘I’m sorry I had to throw you at General Lex, even if he does owe me a favour. Wherever you end up I’ll come looking for you. Don’t forget that I’ll always—’

And then, immediately after, the flash, dazzling bright, from the heart of the solar system. The bridge was flooded with light.

Beth saw them react. Lex McGregor, in his captain’s chair, straightening his already erect back. Penny Kalinski grabbing Jiang Youwei’s hands in both her own. Earthshine, the creepy virtual persona, seeming to freeze. They all seemed to know what had happened, the significance of the flash.

All save Beth.

‘What?’ Beth snapped. ‘What is it? What happened?’

Earthshine turned his weird artificial face to her. In the years she’d spent in the solar system Beth had never got used to sharing her world with fake people like him.

‘They have unleashed the wolf of war. We, humanity, we had it bound up with treaties, with words. No more. And now, this.’

‘They being …’

‘The Hatch builders. Who else?’

‘And you, you aren’t human. You say we. You have no right to say that.’

The virtual looked at her mournfully. ‘I was human once. My name was Robert Braemann.’

And she stared at him, shocked to the core by the name.

Lex McGregor turned to face Penny. ‘So this is the kernels going up. Right, Kalinski?’