Simon Hawke - The Cleopatra Crisis

“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.

TAC-HO. Pendleton Base, California, June 13, A.D. 2627

The penthouse of the headquarters building of the TemporalArmy Command had originally been the personal quarters of the Pendleton Basecommander, but since General Moses Forrester had assumed that post, as well asthe directorship of the Temporal Intelligence Agency, it was hardly ever usedForrester. a bull of a man, completely bald with a face like a pugnaciousbulldog and a powerful, bodybuilder’s physique that belied his advanced age,lived on the floor immediately beneath it. where his offices were located. Theywere the same quarters he had resided in when he was the commander of the eliteFirst Division, better known as the Time Commandos.

Forrester had spent his entire life in the service, whichhad entailed, as life in the service always had, a great deal of moving around.Now that he had reached a point in his career where he didn’t have to move, hebloody well wasn’t going to. not even if it was just upstairs. He had grownaccustomed to his quarters. and even if they were not as spacious and luxuriousas the penthouse. they suited his needs. He merely had to step outside his doorto reach his suite of offices, the heart of TAC-HQ), and he had his secret roomthere, concealed behind a wall, a small private sanctum that only a few peopleknew about where he kept his prized and highly unauthorized mementos of thepast. Occasionally. he had used the penthouse to hold parties or house visitingdignitaries, but it was now a highly restricted area.