Hail Caesar

Yeah, something's not right there. Anyway, both of you are great storymakers.
 
Hello all,

I spent about two hours reading this thread this afternoon - it's an excellent piece of work that kept me gripped even though I know very well that I have other things to do. Kudos!

There's one thing I wanted to point out...

"Yes, you're both right," said Caesar. "Thats why we need to handle this delicately. First, we must raise support for the Zulu people in both Italy and Egypt. We must specify the Zulu People," Caesar was emphasizing the word "people" when he spoke. "We need to separate the people from the Zulu administration. And frankly, that is not a stretch. The people are being slaughtered there. However, we needn't kid ourselves. If we didn't need oil, we wouldn't get involved."
This is from page 3 of the thread, and was written in August 2002. And yet if you make some replacements in the text, it's really not that far from a real life situation we're all familiar with...

Caesar -> Bush
Zulu -> Iraqi
Italy -> America
Egypt -> Britain

Interesting, isn't it, how fiction can so often anticipate reality.
 
Yes, I was a Civfan member at my previous job, but forgot my password when I changed jobs. After two posts or so Thunderfall was gracious enough to reset my password and change my email address.
 
Antony stood over the body of his former Emporer. It was a tragic site. Twenty three wounds, from which blood still flowed. His murderers were in attendance as well. It was the only way to keep the peace. Even now, a day after the deal was struck, Antony felt that he had betrayed Caesar. His intentions were to prevent a civil war, but he hoped that this comprimise had not forced him to live in shame for the rest of his life.

He lifted his head and looked at the senate. Cicero and Cassius stood there looking solemnly. Lepidus could not bear to look at his dead emporer. Brutus stood with confidence, seemingly wishing that this ceremony was over. He held no love for Caesar.

Antony turned his gaze to the marketplace, where the entire city of Rome had turned out to pay tribute to a great leader. How would they react to this? Would they indeed accept Antony as the rightful heir to Caesar? Or would they see through this charade, knowing that the real power in Rome once again rested with the corrupt senate? The decision was made, though. Any other decision would have begun the end of the Roman Empire.

Antony began to speak. "It is not right, my fellow-citizens, for the funeral oration in praise of so great a man to be delivered by me, a single individual, instead of by his whole country. The honors that all of you alike, first Senate and then People, decreed for him in admiration of his qualities when he was still alive, these I shall read aloud and regard my voice as being not mine, but yours."

As a tribute to Caesar, Antony read the oaths that each of his generals had taken while under his command. He continued: "O Jupiter, god of our ancestors, and ye other gods, for my own part I am prepared to defend Caesar according to my oath and the terms of the curse I called down on myself, but since it is the view of my equals that what we have decided will be for the best, I pray that it is for the best."

Antony heard a few rumbles amongst the vast crowd in the marketplace. While he could not see them, he could almost feel the senators looking at each other. He continued speaking, but could not be heard over the heightening sounds from the audience. Eventually, their voices subsided. This was the moment, Antony thought.

He lifted the body of Caesar and looked out amongst the audience. "Your memory will last forever for the Roman people. It is in your memory that those responsible live today. It is your commitment to Rome which spares them. To think that you actually saved the lives of these men who were to kill you."

That was enough. Antony turned to see the Senators flee to the government district. A wry smile appeared on his face, as the crowd, which could now be considered a mob, moved in hasty pursuit of Caesar's murderers.

There was no doubt that the senators responsible would make it out of Italy. Antony would deal with them later, though. His army was already enroute to the Unfinished Isle to deal with the armies of Brutus and Cassius. Once their threat was removed, the Senate would be under his control. Even Cicero would bow to him.

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Roosevelt could feel a sense of confusion amongst his cabinet members. They all wondered what position the Americans would be in considering the death of Caesar. With the war against the Iroquois winding down the Romans would have to be considered a threat, depending on who took the reigns of leadership there.

The consensus was that there were two likely scenarios. First, Antony could be named emporer. This would keep the world balance close to where it is now. Antony's loyalty to Caesar meant that he would continue the dead leader's policies. Secondly, Brutus could take the lead. This was the most dangerous of all situations. Brutus was ruthless. Plus, as a member of the senate he had the power to easily push through his own agenga.

The best gambet for American domination, however, likely fell to a Brutus leadership. A man such as him could bring down the Roman Empire. His pentiant for battle was notorius. Where Caesar saw a balance between the people, the army, and his country's future, Brutus saw only the army. Caesar had intended to grant citizenship to those people in the Unfinished Isle and the Northern Provinces. This move would considerably strengthen the Romans empire. Brutus held the people of these lands in disdain. He saw no use in building up their cities, only in maintaining the constant flow of Saltpeter, coal, and various luxury items.

Antony's history in the Northern Province almost guaranteed that those lands would become officially Roman. This policy would most likely include the Unfinished Isle, as well.

"I think that it is clear, gentlemen, that we must back Brutus in this power vacuum," he said to the cabinet.

Laffayette was the first to respond. "Mr. President. Brutus is a threat to everyone around the world. His leadership will mean war for an indefinitely future."

"I agree," said Colin Powell. The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs continued, "Brutus will continue to build his military until he can destroy all of his oposition. Including us."

"No, Gentlemem," said Secretary of State Kissinger. "I have studied this man. While he is not to be trusted, we can use that information. We know where we stand. You're right. His position as the leader of Rome would lead to a huge amount of military spending. But look at the other side. He will neglect his infrastructure. He will not build the research laboratories that Caesar began, and that we are building. He will not deal with the pollution that we are now just getting under control through our recycling centers and mass transit systems. Rome will begin to fall behind, and who will be there to stand when they fall?"

"We will," answered the president. "With Brutus in charge, we need only protect our oil fields in Zululand, and our homeland here. Emphasis on this protection will be pantamount. However we will continue to look toward the future, where Brutus will only look toward the present. He cannot hope to out-produce us using the policies that we expect him to implement. Our weaponry will be better, and we will have more of it. My aim is to back Brutus as Emporer of Rome."

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yay, zeeter's back
 
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"One third?" Octavian could not believe his ears.

"Yes," answered Maximus. "Caesar has left you one third of his holdings. One third went to Antony, and the remaining third he wishes to be presented to the Roman people as a gift."

"But...but what does this mean?"

"It means that Caesar felt that you were like a son to him."

Octavian thought on this for a moment. More than anyone else, he treasured Caesar's favor. He had no desire for Caesar's holdings, although he was touched that the emporer had thought of him. The biggest gift that Caesar could give to him was the thought of being a son to him.

"You know what this means, don't you Octavian?" asked Maximus.

"The wealth means little to me, Maximus. I have all that I need now."

"No, I don't mean the money. The wording of his will places you in the position that would be that of his son. You are the heir. You are Caius Julius Caesar Octavianus."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that we must go to forum. Technically, you and Antony shall share the Emporer's duties. However, I suspect that Antony is not in the favor of the Senate right now."

"Leaving me to assume the leadership."

Maximus nodded. "Yes, but under the watchful eye of Cicero, Mussilini, and Commodus."

"The three of them were behind the murder of Caesar."

"They were, Octavian, but that cannot be proven. Thus far, only Brutus and Cassius have been implicated, along with a few junior senators. Cicero will try to play you against Antony. He has given up on Brutus and Cassius. They are of no more use to him."

Octavianus pondered this. "All this time we thought that it was Brutus, Cassius, and Lepidus who were Caesar's enemies. I had no idea how deep into the senate this went."

"Brutus and Cassius were pawns. Cicero played this well. Mussolini, too."

"They must be stopped, but now is not the time. I will go to the senate and see what they have to say."

"I agree. Better to bide your time. Soon Antony will have destroyed Brutus and Cassius, taking out two adversaries."

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A dangerous time, this is, thought Montezuma. Suddenly, our demise has been spared, although it was too late for Hiawatha. Where we once lived waiting for the Roman ships to arrive off of our shores, now we wait for the true ruler of Rome to emerge.

Whoever it was, Montezuma would have to move quickly. His country depended on some sort of treaty. The sequence had been set long ago. First the Zulus. Then the Iroquois, followed by the Aztecs. Now their civilization had been spared. At least for a while.

"How will you procede, Montezuma?" Hiawatha was in an awkward position. The alliance that the Iroquois and Aztecs shared had always been based on Hiawatha's power. Now, powerless, he looked to Montezuma for protection.

The Aztec leader knew this, and tried as best as he could to accomidate Hiawatha. "The Americans want peace. They stated that they wish to pull back to their own borders, holding only a few lands in Zululand from which they will get oil."

"How long with this peace last?"

"I suppose it will last until a new ruler is selected in Rome."

"They are down, now, Monte. If it were me, my warriors would be on the shores of Italy as we speak."

Montezuma glared at Hiawatha. "That is why the Romans now rule over the lands you once ruled. That is why your armies countless times were outmaneuvered on the battlefield. You charge into battle without receiving all of the information. You are reckless, Hiawatha."

The Aztec ruler saw a look of shame on Hiawatha's face. Finally he spoke. "That may very well be, Monte. But this is different. The Romans are confused. They have no leadership. Their armies fight amongst themselves. You are a fool is you let them regroup."

"Hiawatha, for decades I have listened to you. I have attacked when you said to attack. I have risked Aztec lives so that you could further your gains. The Aztecs have lost on the Unfinished Isle, the Northern Provinces, and Zululand. All at your whim. I will take no more orders or advice from you. Frankly, even keeping you here in Tenochitlan is risking the security of my people. Dare I say, I have considered expelling you."

Montezuma stopped short. He had not thought of this revelation before. Hiawatha's expulsion would certainly gain him favor with whomever he offered him up to.

"You wouldn't dare. The Iroquois have always supported the Aztecs!" Hiawatha barked.

"You have supported us when you needed us for war, answered Montezuma. "But what of my people in times of peace? I asked you for coal so that I could build railways and you turned down my offer. I asked you for gems, and you laughed. But when you asked for war against Caesar I backed you."

Montezuma looked at the former leader of the Iroquois in disgust. "Your time is over, Hiawatha."
 
Uh oh, careful America, Henry Kissisger's in power!

I'm glad the story is still being worked on :)

Just a side not, and not to nitpick or anything, but the correct spelling is emperor as opposed to emporer. It didn't detract from your story, but it was something I simply noticed.
 
Great job, zeeterus. I think you should make a book out of it.
 
I rarely post in this part of the forum but your story is definitely worth my "acting" a little !

:goodjob: :eek: :goodjob:

Thanks for a very nice story, intermingling Civ3 elements as well as Roamn traditions !
 
Octavian had no love for the senate. Countless times they had stood in Caesar's way, holding back minor proposals in an effort to assert their power. Indeed, they had little power at the time. Caesar used them as a front. They dealt with minor infrastructure issues. Often times they would veto Caesar's decisions on a matter. This would call for either Antony or Octavian to present Caesar's case to the senate, at which point the resolution was always passed.

In the back of thier minds, the Senate knew that Caesar could eliminate them at any time. Therefore their hardline stances always softened in the end if Caesar pushed back. Caesar allowed this. It proved to the world that they did indeed have a republic. One that kept Caesar from absolute rule. It was clear though, to the rest of the world, that Caesar called all of the shots for the Romans. It was to this end that the Senate murdered him.

Octavian sat before Caesar's murderers now. No, they had not plunged the daggers into the Emperor themselves, but it was upon their orders that the real murderers acted. Mussolini, the fat, bald man stood now at the head of the Senate. He would be emperor, if he could. His official stance was that Rome is a Republic, and therefore the Senate should rule. Given the chance, though, he would pounce upon the emperorship when the time came.

Commodus sat at Mussolini's side. Ruthless, the senator would leave nobody in his wake. There was an insecurity about Commodus. Nobody was especially close to him as he trusted nobody. His personal guard was allegedly responsible for countless murders. Commodus himself was fingered in several, however those cases were never brought forth as witnesses either recanted their stories or disapeared entirely.

Then there was Cicero. Mussolini held the court, and Cicero pulled the strings for him. Commodus was the muscle behind the senate. Mussolini the brains. Cicero held the strings between the two.

"Octavian, you know of the position that you now hold?" asked Mussolini.

"Yes, Mr. Speaker," answered Octavian. "I do."

"And you know of Antony's position?" asked Commodus.

"From what I know, he has left with his army to attend to Brutus and Cassius."

"Brutus and Cassius have been implicated by Antony in Caesar's murder. Yes, there is no proof of this. Antony himself exonerated them the day after Caesar's death. Now he moves his army on Brutus," interjected Mussolini.

"I fear that alcohol has interfered with Antony's judgement," said Cicero. We cannot have a man like him running Rome."

"According to his testament, Antony should not even be a consideration," said Commodus. "You control seventy five percent of Caesar's estate. Antony fifteen percent, and Lepidus ten percent."

Octavian noticed that Commodus looked up when mentioning Lepidus, as if to say "don't overstep your bounds." Lepidus controlled Caesar's army outside of Rome. It was unclear as to the reason for Lepidus' inheritance. Nobody but the senate had seen Caesar's testament. Octavian knew what this meant, though. Don't cross the senate, or Lepidus will crush you.

It was obvious what the senators were doing here. As Caesar had done with them, they needed a figurehead. Someone from Caesar's inner circle. Yes someone with little power. Antony had proven himself to be too powerful for them to control. Octavian, at the age of eighteen, would be putty in thier hands.

It was interesting, though, how quickly Antony had forgotten Octavian. The two were seemingly inseparable from Caesar, yet now Antony would have little to do with the young man. Perhaps Antony could now taste the power and was liking it a bit too much.

"Maximus stands at your side," stated Cicero. Maximus stood to address the senate.

Commodus spoke. "Octavian. You have control of the armies of Maximus." Octavian looked at Maximus, who's face turned white at these words. "We cannot allow someone as reckless as Antony to run amok on the Unfinished Isle."

He now had an army, but at the cost of a friendship. Octavian again looked at Maximus. While clearly disapointed, Maximus placed his hand on Octavian's shoulder. This was his way of saying "do what you need to do."

As if hearing Maximus, Mussolini stated "do what you need to do now, Octavian. Antony must be stopped."

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Brianna waited as her queen dressed. "Have you decided whom you will back in Rome?" she asked. Cleopatra had said little since Caesar's murder. Brianna was careful not to bring Caesar up directly.

"I haven't yet decided. The situation must play itself out. Every day a new leader seems to emerge."

"Today it was Octavian," said Brianna.

Cleopatra smiled. "Yes, Octavian. That is the senate's attempt to gain complete control. Octavian is only eighteen. They can mold him into their image."

"Antony still chases Brutus and Cassius on the Unfinished Isle."

"Antony is foolish. He is taking Caesar's murder personally. He is weakening his army while the Senate strengthens their position. Soon he will have taken out Brutus and Cassius while Lepidus prepares to take on the remnants of Antony's army with Caesar's own troops."

"Have you thought of aiding any of them?" asked Brianna. "Clearly one of them would favor us after the domestic squabbles are over. Perhaps you could help that side."

"It is not in my hands now, Brianna," said Cleopatra. "The Roman papers, now in the Senate's control, have slandered me to no end. No Egyptian can step foot in Rome now."

"We'll have to wait and see, then," stated Brianna. This time would mark a significant turning point in the world, she thought. It was troubling that the murder of one man could set the world into such termoil.

An aid entered the room and handed a note to Brianna. She was dismissed. "You should look at this, Cleopatra..." she said, handing the note to her queen.

Cleopatra read the notice carefully. After a while she smiled. "It seems that someone has taken advantage of the situation in Rome."

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Montezuma was secretly amused by the turn of events, although outwardly he expressed as much outrage as the Iroquois leader.

"My homeland. Who is this buffoon." Hiawatha was beside himself. "Three months ago we'd never even heard of this guy. Now, he owns half of Iroquoisland, and has blocked off the rest of it from settlement."

"The Americans have pulled back," said Montezuma. "Rome is in a civil war. The Egyptians are scared. That leaves a power vacuum in Iroquoisland. He must be stopped."

"Yes. He must be." Hiawatha turned to the Aztec leader. "You must stop him," he said pleadingly.

"With what? Bad breath? You're forgetting. I have no navy. The Americans took care of that.

Hiawatha turned in disgust. Montezuma could not hold back a smile on his face. "We can't let Hannibal settle on Iroquoisland. It cannot happen."

"I think he's calling it 'Carthaginia,'" said Montezuma. He couldn't help himself.

"Uhg!" snorted Hiawatha. "Why, if I were there, I'd take that short punk and wring his neck."

"You're not there, Hiawatha, so stop getting so upset. There is nothing that you can do but to live in the abode I've set aside for you and your family."

At this, Hiawatha stormed out of the room. Finaly, Montezuma was able to let out a laugh. He was right, though. If Hannibal were allowed to prosper in Iroquoisland it could greatly change the world. New alliances would emerge. Presently, the Carthaginians were about the only nation that the Aztecs could defeat in battle. Given the speed at which Hannibal was progressing that could change quickly. On the other hand, if he were to deal with Hannibal, perhaps the Egyptians could be tackled, now that they no longer had Rome protecting them.

New opportunities and threats were challenging Montezuma. This would be the time he would be remembered for.

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This story is terrififc, just terrific:D
 
Amazing, keep up the fantastic work.
 
Music filled the basement as Nero's fiddle played accomanied by Maximus' screams. The general was tied to a chair in the middle of the room. Several men sat around waiting for the music to stop. The end of the song was coming up, Maximus thought. That meant more pain.

It had started inocuously enough. Nero had asked Maximus if he liked music. He then asked him to listen to him play. While Nero was no Meistro, he could play the notes well enough to recognize the music he was playing. When the music stopped, Nero went to find the sheet music for another piece. That was when the other men in the basement began to beat him.

His fingernails had been torn off. The bones in his left foot had been broken several times over. Blood had pooled below him from cuts throughout various parts of his body.

This time it would be electricity. One of the men attached a wire to the skin on his left hand, and another to his right. No longer able to protest, Maximus waited for the switch to be pulled. He then felt his body jump, but no longer felt the pain. Looking down, he saw that the skin on his hand had turned a dark purple - even black in some parts.

Finally the music played again, and his torturers sat down. Nero was a very sick man. He made his audience enjoy his music. The alternative was pain. It was beginning to work, now. Maximus, while not enjoying the music itself, at least was able to relax a bit when the music played.

"Stop," came a soft voice. Maximus looked up to see Commodus dismiss Nero. "I've heard enough of that racket." Nero gathered his sheetmusic, placed his fiddle in its case, and began to leave the room.

"You were a wonderful audience, Maximus. I hope to play for you again sometime." Maximus did not look at Nero, nor did he acknowledge what the man said. He heard the door slam as Nero left the room.

Commodus turned a chair around and sat facing Maximus, not more than six inches from the man. He stared at him, and Maximus returned his stare. Eventually, he spoke.

"Do you miss your brother, Maximus?" Commodus asked.

"Of course I do," he replied.

"Yet you killed him. You said so, yourself."

"I know I did. It was an accident."

"Was it? You and your brother had quite a rivalry."

Maximus began to wonder where Commodus was going with this. "No more than any other brothers."

"When Dominic died you became the primary heir to your father's wealth and position, didn't you, Maximus?"

"I would give up everything that I ever accomplished to have Dominic back with me."

Commodus looked at Maximus sternly. "Would you?" he asked.

After a brief, dramatic pause, Commodus continued.

"Why did Caesar favor you so? Was it because of your father's untimely death?"

"Caesar rewarded loyalty, not the position of one's father," replied Maximus. He then narrowed his eyes at Commodus. "A position that many have benefited from."

Maximus's remark was rewarded with a slap across the face. He had hit a sour spot with Commodus, who's position was a direct result of Marcus Aurelius' position.

"Do not speak of my father," said Commodus. "He is not important here."

Maximus continued. He may be going out, but he would go out leaving a few seeds in Commodus' limited brain.

"Caesar loved your father, Commodus. He loved him like a brother. Everyone loves your father, it seems, but you."

Commodus quickly grabbed Maximus by the collar and pushed his chair down to the floor. Maximus' fall was cushioned by the ropes that still bound him. He now had a chance. One of the ropes had loosened a bit in the fall.

Maximus watched as Commodus dropped to his knees in front of him. The senator began to speak softly again to Maximus, and moved his head but two inches from that of the general.

"You speak of things that you don't know, Maximus. My father was loved by all. Especially me."

"Loved?"

Commodus had slipped, Maximus thought. The senator stopped abruptly and stood with his back turned to Maximus. After a few moments he began to clap. "Very good, Maximus. You've figured it all out. Yes, Marcus Aurelius is dead. I'll not speak of his death with you.

"But what of you, Maximus?" Commodus continued. "Where does your story end? You've lived almost your whole life with the guilt of killing your brother. Soon you will join him. What will you say to Dominic?"

"That is between him and me. Dominic understands that it was an accident. Your father knows that you murdered him, though."

"Me? Murder my father?" laughed Commodus. "Certainly not. It was most likely a common thief. Wasn't it, Anthony?" He turned to one of the men who had tortured Maximus.

"I believe so, sir."

"Anthony, why don't you and your crew go and arrest the thief now. He's probably out in the forum as we speak."

"Yes sir." The torturors stood and left the room.

Maximus had almost managed to get his right hand free. He had no feeling in this hand, as the electrocution torture had killed all of its skin. It was then that Commodus kicked him.

"Speaking of fathers," Commodus began. "What of your father? One of Caesar's finest generals. Killed in action in the Northern Province."

"That was years ago," Maximus replied. He felt Commodus lean down. The senator spoke from behind him.

"Time does not change things. Do you think it odd that your father was buried at sea when he died on land?" Maximus said nothing. Commodus continued.

"Do you find it striking at all that I was your father's second in command? An appointment, I might point out, that my father arranged." Commodus kicked him again to emphasize and acknowledge the position given him by his father's influence.

Maximus began to fill with anger. It was then that he began to feel a sharp poke in his back. Commodus was pushing a dagger into his lungs.

"There was nobody left at the time to lead your father's army. I supose somebody had to be placed in command. Caesar had no choice. But I never disapointed."

Maximus could hardly gather the breath to speak. "You...are a complete disapointment, Commodus. You are a coward."

"A coward? Maybe. But you don't need to worry about that anymore." Maximus felt the dagger in his back become firm. He had to act.

His hand now freed, Maximus swung himself around and with what strength remained, hit Commodus accross the face with his now fleshless hand.

Commodus fell back and over a chair as Maximus struggled to stand. The general reached around his back and painfully pulled the dagger out. Pain was no longer an issue. He had felt enough pain since yesterday for a thousand men.

He approached Commodus, who was on his back, stunned. As he leaned down with the dagger, Commodus was able to recover enough to kick Maximus away. Both men took a few moments to recover, and Maximus rose first. He stumbled over and fell beside Commodus, who's skin had been stripped from half of his face by the bones in Maximus' hand.

"We'll soon meet our makers, Commodus. I doubt, though, that we will be going to the same place." With that, Maximus plunged the dagger in the chest of Commodus.

Maximus rolled over. He thought of trying to write some kind of note, but did not have the strength. Already he was blacking out from the lack of oxygen due to his pierced lung. Soon he would be dead.

He would see his father again, and Dominic. He could finally apologize to Dominic after all of these years of guilt. Maximus hoped that the life of integrity and loyalty that he had lived would prove his worth to his father and brother.

With his last breath, Maximus pulled the dagger from Commodus' body and placed it across his chest. This was the salute to Caesar. Maximus closed his eyes and slipped away.
 
Anthony wasn't sure how he would be received by Antony and Octavian. The Unfinished Isle, however, was certainly a better place for him to be right now than in Rome. Already his partner Sylvio had disapeared. Anthony was most surely next. He had backed the wrong horse in this fight. He understood the senate's position. Things had not worked out. Commodus went too far; he got too cocky. Anthony wanted to end things quickly, but Commodus wanted to bring Nero into it. This all could have been avoided if Commodus had just listened to him. Now the senate needed to rid itself of witnesses. That left Anthony vulnerable.

Luck was on his side, though. At the news of the death of Maximus, Antony and Octavian called a truce. They had skirmished a bit on the Unfinished Isle, but had never actually had an all-out battle. Anthony believed that the two men respected each other too much. Now they sat in Octavian's command post listening intently to what Anthony had to say.

"Generals, you have heard that Maximus was implicated in the murder of Senator Commodus?" Anthony asked.

"I cannot believe that Maximus would do such a thing. It is not like him," replied Antony.

"I know that they've had their differences, but I didn't know that it went this far," interjected Octavian.

"Yes, gentlemen. Maximus plucked Commodus from his home while his wife and children slept. He took him to the basement of the abandoned temple, and stabbed him in the chest."

"Unbelievable," said Antony. "There was always a bit of mystery about Maximus. He could be trusted, but something behind those eyes reveiled a certain sorrow."

"I've seen that too," agreed Octavian. "But to think. A family man like Maximus sneaking into Commodus' house right under the noses of his family. It just doesn't make sense."

Anthony continued. "Commodus, being the strong leader that he was, fought back. It was this struggle that killed Maximus. Nobody can know exactly what happened in that basement, but this can be sure. Commodus is a hero for killing Maximus with his last bit of strength.

"That is even more strange," said Octavian. "Commodus was an adequate general, an adequate leader who led by fear rather than example. I never thought of him as a fighter. He generally left his dirty work for his henchmen. The man knew all kinds of lowlifes."

Anthony looked to Octavian. He wasn't insulted. This was the business that he had chosen. For years, Anthony and his family ran their business under the watchful eye of the Roman police. They had paid a rich sum for the right to continue their business without notice, even involving themselves in matters where the police needed some "help". Until now. This was too big for even him.

"As lowlifes go, you probably think very little of me, then?" asked Anthony.

Octavian answered. "You have run a dirty, brutal business in Rome for a long time. Your family has killed many men. While there is some honor in your actions, it serves you only when it is beneficial to your family. To hear these words about my friend coming from you is an insult."

This was a brutal honesty that Anthony did not expect. Especially from someone as young as Octavian. "Then allow me to insult you a bit more. The briefings that I just gave you are from the Roman Reporter." Anthony was referring to the daily Roman newspaper. "It was written by one Pius Greco."

"And that should mean something to us because...?" Antony was looking impatient. Plus he hadn't said anything for a while.

Anthony continued. "Pius Greco has been on my payroll for the past ten years." He paused for a moment to let this news sink in. "He has cast his light on my business with as much positivity as possible, leaving out the juicier news bits. While the Roman people don't necessarily like my family, Greco's reports made me into some sort of Robin Hood."

"I don't understand what..." Antony was interupted.

"I didn't pay Greco for this report. But someone else did." Anthony stated.

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Robert Oppenheimer stood in his control booth twenty-five miles from Albuquerque. He hoped that was far enough from the city. Nobody knew what would happen at zero-hour. Likely nothing. Only questions would result from this experiment.

He watched the field before him with much anxiety. Should they have built what they did? Someday his children would have to live with these things in their midst. There was only one thing that could be done with it. It was meant to kill people. Specifically, it was meant to kill civilians.

Some days he woke up with the hope that their work would come to nothing. That there would be no way of overcoming the challenges in the project. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on the outlook, his team consisted of some of the smartest men and women in the world. They thrived on the challenge.

The dessert sand was bright as the sun shone off of it. Oppenheimer put his sunglasses on. Looking about, he wished that he had something to do. He and the other scientists could only watch at this point. At least the engineers had work to do in preparing the test. They could occupy their minds with other matters.

General Groves approached him. "All set, Rob?" he asked.

"I think so, General. All we can do now is wait."

"President Roosevelt wants to hear the news right away. I hope to have good news for him."

Oppenheimer wondered about the juxtaposition of the good news. Yes, good news would be a success. But was that good news?

The countdown started and virtually everyone in the room looked out into the valley which spread several miles into the distance. In his mind, Oppenheimer prayed.

The room turned bright white. So bright that they all shielded their eyes with their hands and arms. Stunned silence filled the room as the light died down and the engineers and scientists were able to see again. Immediately, the anxiety in the room turned to cautious optimism. The sound came next. A thunderous explosion was heard. It was difficult to tell when the sound of the explosion ended because the entire room erupted in applause and cheers.

General Groves ran to the nearest phone to call the president. The engineers were shaking hands joyously. Only the scientists stood silently. Outwardly, they appeared happy. Inside, though, to a man the people in Oppenheimer's group knew that they had begun a new age. One that was able to put an end to Man's domination over the world.

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Atahualpa picked up the Inca Daily and immediately saw the images from Albuquerque. He knew that the Americans were working on this, but did not know that they were so close to a conclusion. This was troublesome. The Aztecs, always the enemy of the Americans, were now in dire straights. There never really was a peace treaty after the latest war. Hostilities were simply stopped at the death of Caesar.

Along with the Emperer's death was the logistical problem of moving the forces from Zululand and Iroquoisland to Mexico. It was little worth the effort for Roosevelt to capture his now beaten country. Montezuma was lucky, Atahualpa thought. The Romans, so close to Mexico, could easily have sweapt down. Caesar's death put an end to their imminant demise. At least for a while.

Now, the Americans could plant a submarine a few miles off-shore and destroy a whole city without the loss of a single American life. They had nothing practical to stop this. The army was weak, compared to that of the Americans. The Navy was non-existant; wiped out by American battleships.

They had gold, though. And lots of it. Perhaps Montezuma could be convinced to buy security from the Americans. It was their only hope.

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