The Cleopatra Crisis

Prologue

Rome, January 10, 49 B.C.

The house of Gaius Cassius Longinus was surrounded by awall, as were the homes of all wealthy Romans, for the city had been growing atan alarming rate. Every day. more and more refugees arrived from the provinces.It was no longer safe to travel alone at night. The streets were choked withthieves and cutthroats who wouldn’t hesitate to kill for a few measly denarii.The gatekeeper opened the heavy wooden door, admitting Marcus Brutus and hisslaves, whom he had brought along for protection. Each of them was armed with agladius, the Roman short sword, and Brutus himself wore a parazonium,the bottle-shaped, foot-long dagger that no Roman male went without these days.The times had grown perilous. He took off his cloak and handed it to thegatekeeper.

“See to it that my slaves are fed,” he told the gatekeeper. “Havethe others arrived yet?”

“They are dining in the peristylum, Master Brutus,” saidthe gatekeeper. “I was told to bid you join them as soon as you arrived.”

“Thank you,” Brutus said. He shivered in his toga, despiteseveral layers of tunics that he wore beneath it. Unlike Cassius, who neverseemed to feel the chill and tonic cold baths every day to inure himself to it.Brutus always felt the cold. Roman houses were never very warm in winter. Theyhad no fireplaces or chimneys. What little heat there was came from a system ofcentral heating called a hypocaust, which consisted of spaces underneath thefloors and in the walls where smoke and heat from a roaring fire stoked in thecellar could circulate. However, the courtyards of the houses were open to theelements and the cold always managed to get in. All Romans suffered in the winter,huddling at night beneath their bedclothes of tapestries and carpets, with opencharcoal braziers burning in their rooms, rendering the air smoky andoppressive.

In winter, they suffered from cold. In summer, there was thestench. Slops and sewage were simply thrown out into the streets, where theirstink mingled with the smells coming from the cook shops and the bakeries, manyof which kept hogs to eat their refuse and the hogs, of course, left their own.It all mingled to produce an atmosphere that choked the lungs and drove wealthyRomans out of the city, to their country estates. Winter was a time of chills;summer was a time of fevers. Brutus sometimes wondered why he bothered stayingin Rome. Being governor of a province would have seemed more preferable, butthen Rome was Rome and the provinces provided no society, no stimulation forthe intellect. Rome was the center of the world, and these days. the center ofthe world was turbulent.

Brutus strolled through the atrium, with its marble columns.exquisite mosaic floors, its curtains and elegant furnishings in ivory, bronze,and rare woods. Cassius had spared no expense in the construction of his house,and every year, he refurbished a part of it. There was always some kind of constructiongoing on in Rome. There was a shortage of housing and most of the tenementswere shoddily and hastily built. There was a constant danger now from fire, orfrom falling buildings. But Cassius was able to employ the finest architectsand builders. The atrium, a large courtyard surrounded by a series of rooms,was open to the air, with a large pool in the center that collected rainwaterand which, from time to time, Cassius had stocked with carp. There werebedrooms on the second floor, but Cassius lived primarily in the secondbuilding, the peristylum. It was built around another courtyard, ameticulously landscaped garden surrounded by columns, with fruit trees,flowering shrubs, and fish ponds. In the warm months, Cassius kept an aviary.He was particularly fond of peacocks, though Brutus couldn’t stand thestrutting birds. They were beautiful to look at, but their ceaseless, raucouscawing was annoying in the extreme. Now, however, all the birds had died, asthey did every winter, and the garden looked bleak, matching the disposition ofthe city.

Cassius and the others had already started their dinner.They were reclining on their stomachs or their sides on couches placed aroundthe table, attended to by the slaves of the household. The stove was puttingout some welcome heat and there were several braziers burning, as well as anumber of oil lamps, with wicks of flax that could provide up to forty hours oflight on a pint of oil. No candles were in sight. Candles were used only by thepoor, who could not afford the oil. They used them very sparingly, since thetallow was often eaten when times grew lean.

Cassius, though lean himself, had never known lean times. Hewas fond of surrounding himself with luxuries. The sideboards were adorned withgold and silver cups and dishes, silver spoons and knives-though most food waseaten with the fingers-and elaborately carved drinking horns covered with gemsand mounted in gold and silver. The money Cassius spent on murals, on tables ofrare woods, or chairs of carved ivory could have kept an average Roman familyfed for several years. And, as usual, he set an elegant table.

In the city, the staple food of the masses was wheat andcorn, which most people ate boiled, as a sort of porridge. Few could affordmeat. For most Romans, variety in diet was provided primarily by vegetables,sometimes fish or wild fowl. But Cassius dined like the aristocrat he was.Dinner began with salads, radishes and mushrooms. Eggs and oysters, washed downwith generous amounts of mulsum, a sweet brew of warm wine mixed with honey.The main course consisted of six or seven dishes-mackerel eels or prawns, boar,venison, wild goat, suckling pig, hare, stuffed dormice, geese, ostriches,pheasants, doves and peacocks, honey-sweetened cakes and fruit, all washed downwith copious amounts of Greek Chian wine that was heated and mixed with water,then served in horns and bowls so that bread could be dunked into it.

Frequently, Cassius’ guests would gorge themselves untilthey were so full, they couldn’t eat another bite. Then they would stickfeathers down their throats, vomit on the floor, and, while slaves cleaned upthe mess, eagerly reapply themselves to the feast spread out before them.Often, Cassius staged lavish entertainments during dinner. Musicians played whilehis guests ate, or perhaps some popular poet recited his latest works.Sometimes there were dancing girls-Cassius was especially fond of dancinggirls-and dwarf acrobats and conjurers. But there was no entertainment on thisnight. The mood of the diners was grim, conspiratorial.

“Ah. Brutus!” said Cassius. greeting him with a wave. “Comein, come in, we’ve been waiting for you.”

“It seems you have begun without me,” Brutus said.

“Here, take a place by me,” said Cassius, moving over on thecouch. “Don’t worry, there is plenty more. Here, have some wine. You look cold.”

“I am cold,” said Brutus, gratefully accepting the steamingcup.

You should immerse yourself in the frigidarium,” saidCassius. “I’ve told you time and time again, one must fight the cold with itsown weapons.”

“I prefer to fight it with steam, thank you,” Brutus said.

“You know everyone, of course.”

“Of course,” said Brutus, nodding to Casca, Cimber,Ligarius, and Labeo. They were all influential citizens of Rome. Powerful andambitious men. He sipped the wine and was gratified to feel its warmthspreading through him. A good night to get drunk, he thought.

“We were discussing Caesar” Cassius told him. He picked up aradish and popped it into his mouth, crunching on it noisily.

“What else?” said Brutus, allowing the heat of the wine cupto warm his hands. “All Rome is discussing Caesar. One hears of little else.”

“The man’s a dangerous rebel against the traditions of Rome,”said Ligarius, a portly, balding man who always spoke as if he were utteringgrave pronouncements. He was known as “the soporific of the Senate.”

“Caesar’s entire life has been a history of rebellion,”Brutus replied wryly.

“Yes, that is true enough,” said Cimber, a young man withdark, curly hair and deep-set eyes that gave him something of a haunted look. “Theystill talk about how, as a boy, after he was nominated to a priesthood at thetemple of Jupiter, he flouted convention by breaking his engagement so that hecould wed a young woman of more noble birth. And when Sulla ordered him to divorceand honor his original engagement. Caesar refused! Can you imagine refusingSulla?”

“I can well imagine Caesar doing it,” said Brutus with asmile.

“I recall that story,” Labeo said as He licked his fingersand wiped them on his tunic. “He was stripped of his priesthood, his wife’sdowry, and his own inheritance. Sulla was so angry with him that Caesar wasforced to go into hiding.”

“Yes, but Sulla pardoned him.” said Brutus.

“Only because Caesar had influential friends who intercededfor him.” said Casca with disgust. Casca had never been a man who troubled toconceal his feelings. Wiry, dark, and foxlike, his sharply chiseled featuresgave him a predatory look, tie was one of Caesar’s most vocal critics. Perhapstoo vocal. His friends frequently cautioned him, yet he paid them no mind.

“Caesar has always had influential friends,” said Brutus. “Hegoes to a great deal of trouble to secure them.”

“I hear he sometimes secures them in the bedchamber,” saidLabeo with a grimace of distaste. “Be careful, you oaf!” he shouted, hurling apiece of venison at the slave who had leaned over to refill his goblet. “Youalmost spilled that on me!”

“I had heard that, too.” said Cimber. adjusting his tunicand getting grease stains on it in the process. He wiped at them absently,spreading them still farther. “During his assignment as aide to the governor ofBithynia, weren’t there rumors of a homosexual relationship between Caesar andKing Nicomedes?”

“Malicious gossip.” Brutus said.

“Perhaps, but where there’s smoke, there’s fire,” Cassiussaid, giving them all a knowing look. “And there has always been such gossipabout Caesar. He swims in a veritable ocean of scandalous rumor. When therevolt broke out following Sulla’s death, did he not immediately hurry home,anxious to take opportunity of any chances to advance himself?”

“Are you speaking of the alleged conspiracy with Lepidus?”said Brutus, reaching across the table for some fruit. “The way I heard it. hechose to stay well out of it.”

“Only because he knew that Lepidus would fail,” said Casca. “Hewas afraid to take the chance of throwing in with him.”

“Afraid?” said Brutus. “Caesar?” He chuckled. “Theman is absolutely fearless.”

“Yes, that is true enough,” Cassius conceded. “He is courageousto the point of foolishness. Such as that time when he was captured by Cilicianpirates while en route to Rhodes. ‘They held him for ransom for over a month,during which time it’s said he often told his amused captors that he would paythem back by crucifying them. They doubtless found his youthful braggadocio vastlyentertaining. However, they were not quite so entertained after the ransommoney had been borrowed and Caesar was released. He raised a fleet to pursuethem, captured them, and did exactly as he’d promised. Then he seized theirbooty as his prize and used it to raise a force so he could join the campaignagainst King Mithridates, for which he was voted the rank of tribune on hisreturn to Rome. No. Brutus is right. If there is one thing you cannot say aboutCaesar. it is that he has ever been afraid of anything.”

“Have you heard the story of when he was sent to Spain, asquaestor?” Labeo asked. “Supposedly. he saw the statue of Alexander in theTemple of Hercules and became quite upset. The thought that by the timeAlexander was his age. he had already conquered the world while Caesar himselfhad done nothing nearly so significant caused him to quit his post and returnto Rome, from where, presumably, world-conquering could be more easily accomplished.”

“And there followed rumors of Caesar being involved in severalconspiracies for revolution, most notably with Crassus,” Cimber added. “Eventhen, he lusted after power.”

“I’ve heard those rumors, too,” said Brutus, “but nothingever came of such plots. lf, indeed, they ever existed.”

“Oh, they existed, you can be sure of that,” said Cassius,tearing off a piece of bread and dunking it into his wine. As he chewed on it,some wine dribbled down his chin and he wiped it away with the back of hishand.

“If nothing came of those plots, it was only because the momentwas not right or the other participants in the conspiracies were hesitant.”said Labeo with his mouth full. “But did that stop Caesar? No, he went onangling for higher office and making a reputation for himself as a prosecutor,one who was not above bribing witnesses to bring charges against his enemies.”

“He also shamelessly curried favor with the public bystaging elaborate entertainments,” Ligarius added between gulps of wine, “whichplaced him heavily in debt. Yet it paid off. Eventually, he managed to securethe office of Chief Priest. They say he bought the votes.”

“What about when Catiline was brought up before the Senateon charges of conspiracy?” asked Cimber. “The entire House was in favor of thedeath penalty. Caesar alone argued against it. Perhaps he was mindful of hisown aborted conspiracy with Crassus.”

“If that isn’t damning evidence, what is?” asked Cascasourly. “I heard he so incensed the Senate with his obstinacy that the houseguard went so far as to unsheath their swords. They would have killed him, too,if not for Ciecro’s intercession.”

Not that Cicero was ever fond of Caesar,” Cassius saiddryly. “He simply thought that killing someone in the Senate was bad form.”

Brutus chuckled. Cicero might have phrased it exactly thatway himself.

“You may laugh. Brutus. but it would have saved everyone alot of trouble if they’d done away with him right there and then.” said Casca. “Itell you, his luck is simply unbelievable.”

“What about when the House voted to suspend him?” Labeoasked. His white tunic was spattered with food stains. “The people clamored forhis reinstatement and the Senate buckled under. restoring him to office. Yet nosooner had they done so than his name was linked to the conspiracy of Catiline.”

“The man he had so ardently defended,” interjected Casca sarcastically.“Yet he not only managed to wriggle out of that one, but he also turned thetables on his accusers and had them sent to jail. Can you believe it?”

“He always was audacious,” Cassius agreed. “It was not longafter that, the Senate decided to send him off to Spain. Doubtless in the hopethat some obliging savage would stick a spear between his ribs. Naturally.Caesar immediately saw this as yet another opportunity to distinguish himself.However, he was worried that his creditors would seek his impeachment, so theycould keep him in Rome until he could pay off his debts. Which, of course. hecould not do. So what was his solution? He rushed off to Spain at once, withoutwaiting for his appointment to be officially confirmed or even for the House tovote him the necessary funds. After all, why should such small matters oflegality bother the great Caesar”

“But you must admit that he did bring things back under controlin Spain by the following summer,” Brutus pointed out He held out his cup to berefilled.

“True, but then he returned to Rome without waiting to beproperly relieved and demanded, demanded. to be awarded a triumph.” Cassiusreplied scornfully. “Not only that, but at the same time, he announced hisintention to run for a consulship. Now everyone knows that a commander whopetitions to enter the city in triumph is supposed to wait outside the cityuntil he receives his answer, whereas a man who wants to run for consul must bepresent in Rome to file his candidacy. Clearly Caesar could not legally doboth, but did that dissuade him? Not Caesar! He tried to get himself exemptedfrom the election regulations, so that his friends could file his candidacy forhim. Talk about audacity! The resulting protests in the Senate forced him toeither give up running for consul or forgo the triumph. He decided that beingelected consul was more important. so he gave up the triumph. entered Rome,filed his candidacy. and, running true to form, proceeded to bribe the voters.”

“The way I heard it, his enemies bribed the votersthemselves to cast their lot for Bibulus,” Brutus said.

“With the result that both men were elected,” Casca saidwith disgust. “The whole thing was a farce!”

“And after his election. Caesar embarked upon still moreintrigues,” said Cassius. “He somehow managed to work his charm on Pompey. whowas still angry with the Senate for the difficulties they had given him inpursuing the war against Mithridates. Caesar managed to patch things up betweenhim and his old fellow coconspirator. Crassus. who was still smarting overbeing eclipsed by Pompey in their defeat of that rebel gladiator, what was hisname? ‘The surly-looking bastard with the dimple in his chin.”

“Spartacus,” said Brutus, popping a stuffed dormouse in hismouth.

“Yes, that’s the one. Caesar brought Pompey and Crassus togetherand arranged for them to agree upon a pact. All three of them swore to opposeany actions of the Senate that any one of them might disapprove of.”

“If you ask me, that was the turning point for him.”Ligarius pronounced. “Crassus had the money. Pompey had influence and hissoldiers. After that. Caesar began to make his presence in the Senate felt witha vengeance.”

“Wasn’t his first act a rule that all daily proceedings ofthe Senate and the courts be published, insuring that the people would knowabout everything he said and did?” asked Cimber. He turned. “You! Yes, you.the ugly one! More wine!”

“Yes, and he quickly turned that to his advantage,” Cassiussaid. “When he proposed some agrarian reform and his old opponent. Bibulus,took a stand against it. Caesar actually had him driven from the Forum at swordpoint! The idea, one supposes, was to prove to all those who would read of theproceedings that the great Caesar would stop at nothing to champion any causethat would benefit the Roman people. “

“And at the same time, demonstrate to the members of the Senatewhat would happen to anyone who dared oppose him.” added Ligarius. He shiftedhis position on the couch and broke wind prodigiously.

“By the gods, Ligarius!” said Cimber with a grimace. “Youcould empty out the Circus with that one! Phew!”

“When was it that he married Calpurnia?” Labeo asked.

“About the same time Bibulus decided it was more prudent forhim to retire from public life.” said Cassius. He ate an olive and spat the pitout on the floor. A slave immediately picked it up. “Marrying Calpurnia gavehim access to her father’s money. At the same time. he broke his daughter’sengagement so she could many Pompey. thereby cementing his relationship withthe most famous general in Rome.”

“You tell me that was not ambition?” Casca asked angrily. “Norwas that enough for him! He then decided that being appointed provincialgovernor of Gaul would present him with the most opportunities to secure wealthand triumphs. so he used his influence to make sure that he got it

“Well, that’s not quite true,” said Brutus. The Senate wasonly too glad to give it to him. No sooner had he left his office than theybegan an inquiry into his conduct during his term as consul. The moment Caesarleft the city, his quaestor was charged with malfeasance, laying the groundworkfor charges against Caesar himself. But nothing ever came of it.”

“Only because Caesar had contributed generously to all ofthe chief magistrates and supported candidates for office who would look afterhis interests,” Cassius said. “He has always been a corrupt intriguer. I cannotunderstand why you defend him. Brutus.”

“It is not my intention to defend Caesar.” Brutus replied. “Nordoes he require my defense. Can you deny the good he did for Rome? In Gaul. heexpanded his army with legions raised at his own expense. He even went so faras to recruit and train an entire legion from the province. In the nine yearsof his military governorship, he subjugated all of Gaul to Roman authority. Hislegions took over eight hundred towns, conquered three hundred states, andkilled over a million enemy barbarians, taking as many prisoner. If you aregoing to point out the man’s faults, then do not neglect his virtues.”

“Virtues! What virtues?” Casca asked, raising hisvoice. “You speak as if Caesar gained nothing for himself! Gaul has made himrich! And he was lavish in his gifts of slaves to anyone who could be ofbenefit to him. Any man who looks at Caesar’s history with a clear eye can comeaway with but one conclusion! All Caesar ever wanted was power! Hisambition simply knows no bounds. I tell you, he intends to seize Rome itself!He plans to depose Pompey and make himself dictator!”

“I have seen no proof of that,” said Brutus.

“No? Then why did he refuse to be relieved?” counteredCasca. “The Gallic Wars are over! The province has been pacified. Why does herefuse to disband his legions? I’ll tell you why! Because he still facescharges of malfeasance during his term as consul! Because he still has debtsthat he does not wish to pay! Because he had made wild promises that he knowshe cannot keep! And most of all, because he has acquired a taste for power andhe does not wish to give it up. Even his old friend, Pompey. considers him athreat!”

“Perhaps,” Brutus replied, “but there are those, presentcompany included, who have gone to great lengths to make a breach between Pompeyand Caesar. And frankly. while Pompey may be a great general, as a statesman heleaves much to be desired.”

Your feelings about Pompey are well known.” said Casca,dismissing his comment with a wave of his hand. “He did execute your father,after all. Or was it really your father that he killed? Perhaps there isanother mason for your reluctance to condemn Caesar. It is well known that yourmother was once his mistress.”

Brutus gave Casca a long, hard look. “Caesar is not my father,”he said stiffly.

Then why does he bear so much affection for you?” Cascaasked.

“Was I invited here to be called a bastard and insulted?”Brutus shouted, throwing his wine cup to the floor. The slaves hastened to mopup the spill. Brutus started to rise. but Cassius took him by the arm.

“No, no, Brutus, stay, please! It was merely the winespeaking, wasn’t it, Casca? It is just that we are all inflamed with passionand concern about our future. We meant to share our feelings with you. We hadbelieved that you were with us, but it seems that you cannot forget your father’sfate at Pompey’s hands and therefore lean toward Caesar. Well, that isregrettable. but we love you none the less for it.”

“You judge me wrongly.” Brutus said. “I despise Pompey, thatis true, but neither do I favor Caesar. Politics must be dispassionate. Alesson some of us have yet to learn,” he added with a pointed glance at Casca. “Imay not share the vehemence of your feelings against Caesar but I do notbelieve that he is the man to govern Rome.”

“Then you are with us’?” asked Cassius.

“If it must come to a choice between Pompey and Caesar, thenfor the good of the republic, I must put aside my own feelings and stand forPompey,” Brutus replied. “Caesar has accomplished great things, but I believethat Cicero is right. His chief concern is for himself, not Rome.”

“Cicero is wise,” said Ligarius. nodding. He belched loudly.

“The gods have spoken,” Cimber said, raising his cup anddraining it.

“Then why have you not invited him tonight. so that youcould partake of his wisdom?” Brutus asked.

“Cicero is wise, but he is also old,” Cassius replied. “Itis for young men such as ourselves to plan the future.”

“To plan conspiracies. you mean,” said Brutus.

“Against whom do we conspire?” asked Cassius. raising hiseyebrows in surprise. “Against Caesar’? He is not the power in Rome, thank thegods, yet he is a threat not to be taken lightly. All here are loyal citizensof the republic, merely expressing their concerns about the future. Is thatconspiracy’?”

“Perhaps not,” said Brutus. “Yet it has the flavor of one.”

“Come now, Brutus,” Cassius said, putting his arm aroundhim, “you are among friends. Set aside your worries. There are many flavorshere to tempt you. Such as this excellent Greek wine, for instance.”

Cassius gestured for a slave to pour Brutus another cup. “Letus have no more talk about conspiracies.” He winked. “At least, not fortonight.”

Brutus drained the cup and held it out to be refilled. Thewine was filling him with pleasant warmth. A warmth that seemed to banish thechill of an uncertain future. Yes, indeed, he thought, it was a good night toget drunk.

Capt. Jonathan Travers of the United States Temporal ArmyObserver Corps, alias “Lucius Septimus,” personal secretary and aide to thecommander of the legions, stood outside his tent and gazed out at the troopscamped all around him. The legionaries were relaxing around their cook fires,but there was a tension of anticipation in the air. Each of them knew that inthe morning, they would take part in a historic event that had no precedent.The camp had been situated on the slope of a hill. The entrance gates were onthe downslope and the rear gates were at the crest. The legions had camped outin the open, away from wooded areas that could provide an enemy with an opportunityto make a sudden attack from concealment. The earthworks had been thrown uparound the camp, the soil taken from a twelve-foot-wide ditch dug around themto a depth of nine feet. The earthen wall itself was ten feet high and six feetwide, enough room for defenders to stand on top and hurl their javelins in theevent of an assault. Timber and brush had been used to reinforce the earthworksand the ramparts. When occasion demanded it, wooden towers could be placed atopthe wall, but this was only a temporary camp and there was no need for them.

The camp was laid out in a large rectangle, divided intothree roughly equal parts. These divisions were marked off by two broad “streets”that ran the width of the entire camp. The praetorium was theheadquarters section. where Travers had his tent. It occupied a wide space inthe exact center. Directly behind the praetorium and separated from itby the second of the two main streets, the via quintana, was the quaestorium.It was a similar space situated at the middle of the camp, where hostages,prisoners, booty, forage, and supplies were kept. The praetentura wasthe front section of the camp, separated from headquarters section by the firstof the two main streets, the via principalis. One fourth of the cohortswere encamped there, in tents facing the wall, on either side of the viapraetoria, which was the street leading from the center of the camp tothe front gates. Half the cavalry was camped there too, as well as the archersand the slingers, situated so that they could quickly move out the front gateto form an advance guard in the event of an attack.

The remainder of the cohorts and the cavalry were disposedon either side of the praetorium and in the rear of the camp. Runningaround the entire perimeter, just inside the wall, was a broad street onehundred and twenty feet wide, meant to allow movement for the troops defendingthe walls and to prevent hostile missiles coming over the wall from reachingthe tents. There were smaller streets running lengthwise and widthwisethroughout the camp, separating each cohort from the one beside it. Everythingwas laid out with practiced, logical precision. There was a specific allotmentof space for the tents, the pack animals. the servants, and the stacking ofweapons. The plan never varied from this basic layout. The soldiers were sowell drilled at setting up the camp that they had begun digging thefortifications at noon and the entire task had been completed shortly beforesunset. Each man had worked for one hour before he was relieved, while othertroops formed a protective front to cover the work while details of cavalryscouted the area to provide security. Everything was done with an efficiencyand a precision that an elite 27th-century military unit would have envied, butthen again, these were no ordinary troops. The Romans had fielded some of thefinest armies in all of history and these were the finest troops ever fieldedby Rome, led by the greatest general the republic had ever seen-Gaius JuliusCaesar.

As a career officer in the Observer Crops, Travers wouldspend most of his adult life stationed in this time period, in the 1st centurybefore the birth of Christ. Volunteers for Long Term Observer posts did notreceive antiagathic treatments to retard the aging process. (Had Travers comefrom a family that could have afforded buying those treatments for him at anearly age, he would not have qualified for L.T.O. posting. otherwise how couldhe explain remaining youthful while everyone around him aged normally?) Thehazardous nature of his assignment meant that he could easily lose his life atany time. Few people would have volunteered for such a post. but Travers wasone of a unique group of scholar adventurers who eagerly accepted such risksand hardships in return for the opportunity to spend their lives in intensive,close-up study of important historical figures-observing history as it wasbeing made and safeguarding it. as well.

Though he would be an old man when Travers returned to the27th century, he would not have traded this opportunity for anything. When heclocked back to Plus Time, assuming he survived to complete his tour of duty.Travers would receive his antiagathic treatments. (Though they would not thenbe as effective as they would have been had he received them as a younger man.)They would not return his lost youth, but they would nevertheless extend hislife beyond the normal span. He would be able to retire on a governmentpension, with all of its attendant perks, to either teach or write about hisexperiences. Travers hoped to produce the definitive life of Julius Caesar aswritten by a man who had witnessed most of it firsthand.

The preparations for his assignment had been exhaustive. Qualificationas an L.T.O. placed him among the elite of the Temporal Corps, second only tothe agents of Temporal Intelligence. Only those with the very best educationalbackgrounds were selected and they had to be in peak physical condition, aswell. (Once they graduated from the grueling training course, they were given implantconditioning, programmed through a biochip surgically implanted in the cerebralcortex with the knowledge and the behavior modification patterns that wouldenable them to blend in with the time period and the society within which theywould have to function.) Cosmetic surgery was performed when necessary. Theyhad to look the parts they were to play.

Travers had an outstanding classical education and a giftfor languages. He was fluent in Greek and Latin. but that was not enough. Hehad to be conditioned not only to speak, but to think in Latin and behave as aRoman would. Being well versed in history could also be a liability. It wouldhardly do for him to quote Cicero in casual conversation before Cicero had actuallysaid what he was quoting! The Time Wars had rendered the continuity of historyfragile enough without endangering it further, especially now that insurgentsfrom the parallel universe were seeking to disrupt the timestream. Not only didTravers have to pass as a Roman and survive long enough to complete hisdangerous assignment, he had to be on the alert for temporal anomalies. He alsohad to watch his step, to make sure he did not cause any himself.

It had been necessary for him to have become an expert onthe life and times of Julius Caesar. but even that was not enough. There was noescaping the Principle of Temporal Uncertainty. It was impossible to determine absolutelyany degree of deviation from the original historical scenario because of thelack of total historical documentation. “there was always room for error. Noone could possibly document any historical period down to the most minutedetail. In any given period of time, things had occurred that history had noknowledge of. It was also possible that the mere fact of Travers’ presencecould affect events in some way. Every moment Travers spent in Minus Time wasdangerous. Yet that was part of the intoxicating thrill. To Travers, the riskwas worth it. He already knew more about Julius Caesar than anyone living inhis own time period. With each moment he spent in Minus Time, he was learningmore.

He found Caesar to be brilliant, innovative, an extremelyversatile commander. He was completely fearless and his opponents found himtotally unpredictable. A skillful swordsman and horseman, he often led hislegions on foot, marching like an ordinary soldier rather than riding like ageneral. He lived life at a much faster pace than those around him. Histremendous powers of endurance allowed him to cover over a hundred miles a dayin light carriages, traveling over the worst of roads at twice the pace of theaverage traveler. He often dictated letters and reports to his secretaries enroute, sometimes as many as four or five simultaneously. He also composedscholarly works or poems while he traveled, or worked on his famous Commentaries.in which he dispassionately, even modestly, but clearly with a thought forhistory, chronicled his military campaigns in Gaul.

He possessed great personal charm and a wit that infuriatedhis rivals in Rome when he turned it against them. Yet, for all his gifts, helooked incredibly ordinary. He was tall and very fair, with a broad, scholar’sface and melancholy dark brown eyes. He was also very vain. He kept his face andhead carefully trimmed and often depilated his body hair with tweezers. He hadstarted balding at a very early age and was in the habit of trying to disguiseit by combing what little hair he had forward over his high forehead. Later,when the Senate voted him the privilege of wearing a laurel wreath on alloccasions. he was almost never seen without it. he was somewhat eccentric inhis dress. he had added fringed sleeves to his purple-striped senatorial tunic.an affectation that caused his enemies to refer to him as a woman behind hisback and added fuel to the numerous rumors of his alleged bisexuality. He sufferedfrom bouts of epilepsy, but sought to fight them off with exercise and moderatediet.

His legions loved him. A naturally gifted speaker who had studiedrhetoric in the school of Apollonius of Rhodes, he would often address them inthe field, and always on the eve of any action. speaking to them warmly andwith great emotion, man to men. He always saw to their welfare first and hadforged a unique and powerful bond with his troops. They would have followed himto hell.

In the morning, when they crossed the Rubicon, they wouldfollow Caesar where no commander had ever taken his troops before-to Romeitself. The Senate was alarmed at his successes, terrified of his legions. Theywere well aware of his immense popularity. He had staged gladiatorial shows forthe people and sponsored lavish public banquets. He distributed grain to histroops at the slightest excuse and gifted them with Gallic slaves. He sentslaves and presents to prominent aristocrats, made loans to people who foundthemselves in debt. collected vast amounts of tribute from conqueredterritories, and sought favor with kings and allied tribes by sending themprisoners or lending them troops, all without even bothering to seekauthorization from the Senate. He helped people with legal difficulties and sympathizedwith those he could not help. It had been reported that he told them, “What youneed is a civil war.”

Even his old ally, Pompey, had grown apprehensive about Caesar.The Ties between the two men had been weakened by the death of Caesar’sdaughter. Julia. who had been Pompey’s wife, and of Crassus, who was killed inParthia. As a newly elected consul, Pompey had become the most powerful man inRome. He saw Caesar as a threat. His legions seemed invincible, their loyaltyto him was absolute.

On his return to Rome. Caesar still faced charges ofirregular conduct from when he had served as consul. He had incurred tremendousdebts and made many promises that would be difficult, if not impossible. tokeep. In his time as governor-general of Gaul. he had acquired a taste forpower, and nobody believed that he would easily give it up. Consequently. as “amatter of public interest.” the Senate had decided that since the Gallic Warshad ended and peace had been restored. Caesar should be relieved of his postbefore his term expired. They had also directed him to disband his legions.Caesar’s response was to march on Rome.

Travers alone knew what would happen when Caesar crossed theRubicon. He would wage a bloody civil war, crush Pompey’s forces, and seizeabsolute power. bringing to an end the days of the republic. His name would becomesynonymous with the title that he would assume-imperator. But on thenight before he was to cross the Rubicon-a phrase that would go down in historyas signifying facing the greatest trial and passing the point of no return-Caesarwas keyed up and nervous.

He always looked for omens and was in the habit of consultingsoothsayers. Word had reached him of a local “oracle: with great spiritualpowers. who was said to have the ability to see into the Future. He had sentfor this oracle and was anxiously awaiting his arrival, he had grown impatientand sent a messenger to Travers. ordering him to have the oracle brought to himas soon as he arrived. And as Travers stood outside the entrance to the praetoriumand waited, he saw the detachment of men that Caesar had sent out approachingdown the via praetoria. With them was a tall and slender figure carryinga staff and dressed in a hooded black cloak.

Travers hurried to meet them. The centurion in charge gavehim a salute.

“You are the oracle?” Travers asked the hooded figure. Hecould not make out the man’s face.

“I am.”

“The general is expecting you. He is most anxious to hearyour prophecy.”

As, in fact, was Travers. He hoped that he would be allowedto stay and listen. He did not really expect to hear anything surprising.Oracles and soothsayers knew what was expected of them when they were broughtinto the presence of a famous general and found themselves surrounded by anarmy. Under such circumstances, it would not be wise to read “unfavorableportents.” The man would doubtless give a reassuring reading in the mostgeneral terms, promising success and power and the favor of the gods, pockethis “offering” and hurry home. However, Travers thought it might make for aninteresting scene in his book.

“You’ve searched him, of course?” Travers said to the centurion.

“Of course, Praetor. The man was carrying no weapons.”

“Good. Come with me.”

Travers led the way to Caesar’s tent, with the vexillum,the general’s standard, a white banner inscribed with red letters giving Caesar’sname and identifying his army. placed outside it. The tent was made of leather,with two upright poles and one ridge pole. When on the march. Caesar did notavail himself of any luxuries, which endeared him to his men. He lived as theydid, ate as they ate. He was pacing back and forth, nervously, attired simplyin his tunic and sandals. He looked up eagerly as they entered.

“Ah Septimus! You have brought the oracle?”

“This is the man. Caesar.”

Travers beckoned the hooded figure forward.

“Pull back your cowl,” he said.

The man pulled back his hood. He was completely bald, with aprominent, hooked nose and deep-set dark eyes that gave him a sepulchral look.His face was long, with a pointed chin and pronounced cheekbones.

“What is your name’?” asked Caesar.

“I am called Lucan, General,” the man said softly.

“You know who I am?”

A brief nod.

“They tell me that you can see into the future.”

“I have that gift.”

“I would have you look into my future and tell me what yousee.”

Lucan nodded. “Please. sit down.” he said.

They sat down at the table.

“Do you require an augury?” asked Caesar

“No. That is not the nature of my gift. Give me your righthand,” said Lucan.

Caesar held out his right hand, palm up. Lucan took it inhis own right hand and covered it with his left, then closed his eyes. Nothingterribly dramatic, so far. Travers thought. An oracle without much imagination.Caesar looked slightly disappointed.

“You are a man of great ambition.” Lucan said without openinghis eyes. “You have made many enemies. Some who were once your friends.”

A safe assumption to make about a famous general. thoughtTravers, though not the sort of flattering beginning that he had expected.

“That is true.” said Caesar.

“Please,” said bean. opening his eyes. “I do not wish tooffend. but I must ask you to remain silent until I have finished.”

Caesar nodded.

Lucan shut his eyes once more and remained silent for almostthirty seconds. He was frowning slightly.

“I see that you are about to embark upon undertaking a greatrisk. Old friends will become your bitter enemies. There shall be greatconflict, yet you shall succeed, though not without cost.”

Caesar smiled.

“But this undertaking … this war … will be only thebeginning for you. I see that you aspire to greatness and you shall achieve it.as did Alexander. whom you so much admire.”

Travers raised his eyebrows. The man must have been briefedby someone. Probably he had asked questions about Caesar from the men who hadbeen sent to fetch him. Caesar’s admiration of Alexander was hardly a secret.

“I see great power in your future,” the oracle continued,speaking softly. “Absolute power. And your fame shall last throughout the ages.You shall have many conquests. both martial and romantic. I see that you willfall in love with a wise and ambitious foreign woman who will smite you withher beauty. A young queen who shall bear you a son.”

Travers stared at the oracle intently. This was unusuallyspecific. And also uncannily true. He was talking about Cleopatra. No, hethought, don’t be ridiculous. How could he possibly know that? It was justflattery that happened to be coincidence. Caesar had several queens as mistressesat one time or another. It was not an unusual assumption to make about a famousRoman general and a provincial governor who had regular contact with localroyalty.

“I also see violent death in your future,” Lucan said. “Therewill be portents and warnings. You must not ignore them. For if you do. I seethe image of your body bleeding, pierced with many wounds. You will not fall inbattle, but at the hands of those you think your friends. Beware the Ides ofMarch, Caesar. Beware the names of Casca. Brutus, Cassius, Cimber …” His eyesfluttered open. “I am sorry. I can see no more.”

Caesar was frowning. Travers held his breath. He could scarcelybelieve what he had just heard. The oracle had just named Caesar’s assassins!

“This violent death you see upon the Ides of March.” said Caesar“ It will occur soon?”

In five years’ time.”

Travers almost gasped. He had pinpointed the time precisely!

“And is there nothing I can do to alter this fate’?” askedCaesar.

“Perhaps. To a man who takes his fate into his own hands,”said Lucan. “nothing is impossible.”

“What must I do, then, to avoid this violent death?”

“Give me your left hand,” said the oracle.

Caesar held it out and Lucan took it in both of his, as hehad done before. For a moment. he said nothing, concentrating. Then …

“There is a chance that you might be able to avoid the fateyour destiny has in store for you.” Lucan said. “But you must be mindful of theomens. One in particular. above all others. I have but a dim perception of it.You will know it when that which was concealed shall stand revealed.”

Lucan released Caesar’s hand. “I can tell you no more. Onlythat when you recognize that omen, you must hearken to its counsel.”

“And that is all that you can tell me?” Caesar asked.

“That is all. And now. General. I must beg leave to retire. ‘Thesight has wearied me.-

“My men shall escort you from the camp,” said Caesar. “Ithank you, Lucan, for your prophecy.” Caesar picked up several gold coins andgave them to the oracle. “Septimus, see to it that he is safely conducted fromthe camp.”

His mind in a turmoil. Travers went with the soldiers toescort Lucan through the gates. Outside, it was dark and the oracle looked ghostlyas he walked silently toward the gates with the hood over his head.

“How did you know those things?” asked Travers.

“I have the sight.”

“But you named names, you gave an exact date!

“It was what I saw.”

“But you told Caesar that it was possible for him to changehis fate.” said Travers. “How? How can any man alter his own destiny?”

“A man’s destiny is but the result of his actions in thepresent and the past,” said Lucan. “Those actions set his feet upon a path thatwill lead him to his destiny. When I look into a man’s future. my sight travelsalong the path that man has chosen by his actions. If that man were to choose adifferent path, it would lead him to a different destiny. however, it is myexperience that most men never change.”

There is no future. Travers thought. his mind racing. Thereis only an infinite number of possible futures. What Lucan had just told himwas an almost perfect paraphrase of the Principle of Temporal Inertia.

“Can you look into my future asked Travers.

“No,” said Lucan.

“Why not?”

“Because the sight has wearied me. I need time to recover.”

“Perhaps later. then’?”

“I fear not. I am leaving upon a long journey in themorning. And your general shall take you with him upon his.”

They had reached the gates.

“I doubt that we shall meet again. Praetor Septimus.” said Lucan.“But perhaps that is for the best. Believe me, most men are better off notknowing what their future holds in store for them. Good fortune to you.”

He passed through the gate.

The oracle is right,” said the centurion.-If it is my fateto die tomorrow, or soon thereafter. I would prefer not to know of it tonight.”He clasped the hilt of his sword. “And I would sooner trust my fate to thisthan to the prophecies of oracles and soothsayers. Good night to you, PraetorSeptimus.”

He turned and went hack toward the tents with his soldiers.

Travers turned to the guard at the gate. “I must Speakfurther with that man. Let me through.”

They passed him through the gates and Travers hurried afterLucan. but after running no more than a few steps. he stopped. The slope of thehill fell away from the camp, leading to a meadow. The open country was gentlyilluminated by the moonlight.

There was no sign of the oracle. It was as if he had simplydisappeared.