The Depths of Neptune - Chapter 22

Carthage

“How many this time?” the emperor said, glaring down as the messenger bowed, his forehead nearly touching the cold marble floor.

"Eight, Your Magnificence. The ill-fated vessels were not far from shore when disaster struck. One desperate soul managed to cling to life, swimming ashore to deliver this dire news."

"And the enemy?”

"Three ships, Great One. The survivor was disoriented, yet he spoke of massive vessels adorned with a dozen or more sails, looming like giants on the open sea. He claimed they dwarfed our own galleys, both in height and length, yet maintained a similar width." The messenger trembled as he recounted the survivor's tale.

A skeptical murmur rippled through the emperor's advisors.

One, a portly man with a neatly trimmed beard, scoffed, "Such monstrosities could never stay afloat. Even the skilled northerners, with all of their knowledge of the sea, sail ships comparable in size to our galleys. If larger vessels were possible, those greedy merchants would have seized the opportunity long ago."

The emperor's gaze drifted to another figure, who stood halfway up the dais. "In previous encounters, have we seen anything like these behemoths?"

"No, Excellency," the man replied, his voice firm. "The enemy has used traditional Scandi ships, albeit armed with the devastating smoke weapons we've heard tell of."

The emperor's brow furrowed. "And did this lone survivor report any sign of these fearsome smoke weapons?"

The messenger nodded, his voice shaking. "Indeed, your Excellence. He spoke of evenly spaced holes lining the sides of the ship, emitting plumes of smoke just before boulders tore through our vessels. He also described a metal ball, which exploded into fiery shards, felling men like ripe stalks of wheat."

A note of disbelief entered the emperor's voice. "Hallucinations, you say?"

"Frantic, your Excellency. He was utterly terrified and on the brink of death when he washed ashore. However, he remained certain about the smoke weapons and the fiery explosion. He even speaks of it in his sleep."

The emperor's eyes narrowed. "Why have you come here, then? Why not bring this man to me for questioning?"

The messenger swallowed hard. "The healers fear he is too weak to survive the journey, Your Magnificence. The commander decided it would be better to ensure his eventual report, or to allow someone to interview him, rather than risk his life in transit. He asked me to beg your forgiveness for his presumption."

The emperor's frown deepened as he considered the words, then turned to his spymaster. "Send your best agent to interview this man. We must learn all we can about these mysterious ships." He then addressed the messenger once more. "Where did this disastrous battle occur?"

"Off the northern coast of Hispania, Your Magnificence, just east of the point where the coastline bends southward."

The emperor's face darkened as he turned to one of the gathered generals. "They draw ever nearer. Do they plan some sort of assault?"

The general's eyes shifted uneasily, as if he were grappling with some unspoken burden. "They may well have designs on Hispania, Your Magnificence, for it was the final prize they lost before we banished them to their rocky island. They would surely need it as a stepping stone to our shores. Yet, even with their recent... fortunate encounters, a full-scale invasion appears improbable. Their numbers, even with the combined might of their fellow barbarians, would fall short. It is more likely they seek to safeguard their maritime trade and thwart our own efforts at landing troops."

"But is an invasion still within the realm of possibility?" The emperor's voice trembled, betraying a hint of vulnerability.

The general hesitated, weighing his words carefully. "It is unlikely, but not impossible, Excellency."

The emperor's thoughts turned to the vast fleet they were amassing, and he couldn't help but wonder. "Considering their formidable smoke weapons, would our invasion force stand a chance?"

The room fell silent as the men exchanged wary glances, each hesitant to voice the grim truth. But the emperor would not be denied. "Speak!" he commanded.

Reluctantly, the general complied. "No, Your Excellency. Their ships outmaneuver our galleys with ease, sinking them at will. The perilous voyage, coupled with the enemy's superior firepower, would render any coastal assault a doomed endeavor."

The emperor's eyes narrowed, but he seemed to accept the general's candor, at least for the moment. "And how many vessels do we believe they possess?"

"We cannot say for certain, but their numbers are limited. Only a fraction of our ships have ever encountered a Roman vessel, and these engagements were far from their island stronghold."

"What of the Roman? We offered him sanctuary in exchange for intelligence. Where is he now?"

"He departed a few days ago to consult with one of his contacts," the general replied cautiously.

"You allowed him to leave unescorted?" The emperor's nostrils flared, his anger barely contained.

"No, Great One. Two of the Brothers accompanied him."

"I see," the emperor acknowledged with a curt nod.

The Brothers of Mot, a fanatical death cult, were instantly recognizable by their skeletal face paint and black attire. They revered the god of death and were among the first to proclaim Emperor Hanno as Mot's earthly incarnation, a title passed down through generations to the present ruler. While the emperor's divine status was widely accepted throughout the empire, the Brothers took their devotion to an extreme. They would not hesitate to kill in his name and viewed death in his service as the ultimate ascension. The Brothers' unwavering loyalty made them the emperor's most trusted spies, their presence a source of terror for all.

The emperor's voice hardened. "And what, pray tell, is your grand strategy for dealing with these elusive ships? Surely you have something more inventive than merely sacrificing fleet after fleet?"

"Indeed, Your Excellency. They have proven themselves to be formidable adversaries, deftly remaining beyond our reach during each encounter. It appears they lack the manpower to withstand a boarding assault. Since we cannot outpace them, nor can we withstand their devastating smoke weapon, we must strip them of their ability to flee. We are devising a stratagem to lure them into a trap, where we shall encircle and board their vessels. With fortune on our side, we may even capture one or more of their ships and seize their advanced weaponry for further examination. If not, we shall consign them to the ocean's depths."

The emperor's patience was wearing thin. "See to it that you succeed. I grow weary of your constant failures."

"Yes, Excellency," the general replied, bowing deeply before retreating from the dais, beckoning the messenger to follow.

Once they had safely departed the emperor's throne room, the general turned to the messenger, his voice a hushed whisper. "Tell me everything you know about these enigmatic ships."

***

Devnum

“To what do I owe the greeting?” Ky asked as he descended the gangplank, his boots thumping on the wooden dock

“Hortensius sent word that our first shipments of rifles were ready. I came up to make sure we got enough ammunition and gunpowder to get training started in earnest,” Velius said.

“Training’s going well then?”

“It is. We've finally mastered deploying from marching columns into firing lines while maintaining unit cohesion. I'm eager to put rifles in the men's hands so they can grow accustomed to them before facing real combat. The demonstration Hortensius provided was enlightening, but there's a world of difference between hearing cannons roar and feeling the blast of a rifle in your own hand. My only regret is that our training couldn't be conducted closer, as I waste precious time traveling between here and the legions."

Ky nodded in understanding. "The prisoner camps have claimed much of the surrounding land, and the city requires the remaining fields for crops. A wider expanse was necessary for maneuvering practice. But why the frequent trips?"

"I saw Bomilcar off a few weeks ago."

"Ah, He got off okay then?"

"Yes, although it will be several days before he lands, given the circuitous route he's taken. His arrival should go unnoticed. Do you think he'll persuade the local tribes to ally with us?"

Ky shrugged. "It's hard to say. Bomilcar knows them better than we do."

"Is it safe?"

"Nothing is safe in battle to the death against an empire vastly larger than ours. But Bomilcar is crafty and experienced; if anyone can survive, it's him."

"How did the hunting go?" Velius asked, indicating the ships.

"Quite well. We sank two small fleets, one of eight ships and another of ten. Valdar has done an exceptional job preparing his modest fleet. I can’t wait for the day when we have a formidable fleet capable of truly pressuring the Carthaginians. While establishing a foothold on the continent is vital, we'll be overwhelmed unless we can disrupt their ability to quickly deploy forces and maintain control. Sending ships into the middle sea and forcing them to march around will be our first step in crippling them."

Velius shared Ky's enthusiasm. "I look forward to having those ships with us when we land. Their performance at Insula Manavia was impressive, and if they've improved as you say, they'll ensure any landings and coastal supply bases have sufficient firepower to deter even the mightiest Carthaginian army."

“True, they would. Unfortunately, I have bad news for you on that. You'll receive the entire fleet, but they'll remain only long enough to unload troops. Save for one ship, the rest will then depart."

Velius sighed. "I knew I wouldn't keep all of them, but I'd hoped for two or three. One ship can only cover a limited area while we construct fortifications. And if it must resupply, we'll be left vulnerable during its journey to and fro."

Ky empathized but stood firm. "We have little choice. The fleet must maintain pressure on the Carthaginians. Transporting men along the coast is still faster than overland travel. Your presence will strain their supply lines, and if you secure a passage to the middle sea, you'll effectively cut off that region from the rest of their forces. We need our fleet on the water. However, we won't leave you defenseless. Other ships will bring supplies, so your lone vessel won't need to return for resupply."

"I suppose that's something."

"Consider yourself fortunate. I’m moving the bulk of our forces across in galleys and what Scandi ships we can pay. The distance is short, but it’s going to take dozens of trips to get everyone across.”

Velius managed a weak smile. "I'll try not to complain too much about my good fortune."

"Good," Ky said, clapping Velius on the back. "Are you returning to your command soon?"

"Yes, I leave tomorrow morning with the weapons for my legion."

"Has Hortensius mentioned how many rifles you'll have by the time you ship out?"

"Perhaps five thousand, insufficient for both legions. We'll have to distribute them evenly, which limits the number of men we can field effectively. We've modified our deployment strategy to accommodate the remaining soldiers armed with shields and swords. I've only tested it with one cohort, but it shows promise."

Ky furrowed his brow, uncertainty creeping into his voice. "Okay?"

"I plan to deploy lines four deep instead of three. We'll maintain the three firing lines, but I'll add a front line of shieldmen. I realize it deviates from your original instructions, but with only half a legion wielding the new weapons, we risk being overrun by a sizable force. Until we have enough rifles, I want to use the unarmed soldiers as a protective force. They'll kneel, allowing the ranks behind them to fire. This added protection will also help against arrows if the enemy comes within range. The firing ranks will stand, so they can still shoot over the shield wall."

Ky furrowed his brow, attempting to visualize the formation. It wasn't the strategy he and Sophus had devised, but it held potential. He wanted his commanders to think critically about such challenges. With the vast differences in technology, no historical battle could guide their strategies for the upcoming conflict. He and Sophus had chosen the best options available, but neither had considered blending old and new tactics like this.

Intrigued, Ky said, "I'd like to see this for myself. I must speak with Hortensius and Valdar first, but I'll follow you afterward to observe your men in action."

Velius nodded. "I'll have them prepared, then. Until then, Consul."

"Until then," Ky echoed, clasping Velius's forearm in the Roman style of a handshake.

***

Ky strolled leisurely toward the palace, relishing the calm that had settled over him during the past three days. Hortensius had been busy at Factorium, and Ky had seized the opportunity to spend precious time with Lucilla. Though it had only been a few months since they were last together, their duties had kept them apart, making the time feel far longer. He understood the necessity of their separation but couldn't help feeling the pang of longing when apart from her.

While there was much to be done, Ky found solace in his brief respite. He checked in on the hospital and the diligent physicians working tirelessly to develop the rudimentary antibiotics that Sorantius had begun. Under Lucilla's watchful eye, they had made significant progress, but the road ahead was arduous. Introducing penicillin was only the beginning; they also had to develop safe methods for taking blood samples, create simple syringes, and devise an alternative growth medium for the medicine. Historical records indicated that corn extract was the primary medium due to its abundance of complex carbohydrates, but they had to make do with wheat, which proved challenging. If not processed precisely, it easily transformed into yeast, unsuitable for cultivating penicillin. Ky hoped to eventually acquire seed corn from the Americas or soybean from China for an easier medium, but for now, they had to work with what was at hand.

Through trial and error, the team had managed to develop a process for drying the penicillin and mixing it with calcium fats. The result was a semi-shelf stable penicillin tablet, but production quantities were frustratingly small. The silver lining, however, was that the advancements made in penicillin production would eventually be applicable to food preservation and canning, making it easier to supply food during winter, to ships at sea, and to armies on the march. In time, these processes would save countless lives, as important as the development of penicillin itself.

Scaling up production remained their most significant hurdle. The current processes yielded less than a thousand units, a meager amount considering the lower potency of this early medication. This quantity was barely enough to treat one patient for a single day. With synthetic versions of the medication far out of reach, their only option was to ramp up production massively to create sufficient quantities of the life-saving drug.

Sophus had some recommendations, but it required yet another expansion of the facilities in Factorium, and the need for even more manpower, which was the one thing the empire could simply not get enough of.

Ky’s wandering train of thought snapped back into place as he found Hortensius and Valdar waiting for him. He wished Lucilla could have been there with him, but her father's illness had placed her in the role as his stand-in, leaving her to face the Roman senate and petitioners. He empathized with her frenetic schedule, which seemed even more daunting than his own.

"Thank you both for meeting me here, especially you, Hortensius. I know you're swamped with preparing rifles and ammunition for Velius's legion," Ky said.

"My foremen have it under control. It's nice to be somewhere quiet for once," Hortensius replied.

Ky marveled at Hortensius's definition of quiet, considering the bustling and ever-growing capital of Devnum. Then Valdar, ever the pragmatist, cut straight to the chase.

"What can we do for you, Consul?"

Valdar had his hands full as well. With new ships launching soon and a smaller schooner being sold to Yrsa, a prominent Scandi merchant, Valdar's schedule was packed. He would be overseeing the fleet that carried Velius to Hispania while training Yrsa's crew on the new sail plan.

Ky took a deep breath before revealing his request. "We need to obtain specific plants that grow in far-off Asia, beyond Carthaginian control. They resemble dandelions, but with subtle differences. We need the seeds they produce after their flowers close up. Valdar, I know you have contacts with Asian merchants who travel to these remote regions. We'll provide you with details on where to find these plants and how to identify them. It's crucial we obtain the correct plants, and if we do, we'll pay the same amount we would for gold or silver, by weight."

"Why would you pay so much for what you just called a weed?" Valdar inquired, a hint of skepticism in his voice.

"Because we can extract a vital substance from them. The problem is, this will all take time. I should have asked someone to start looking for these plants last winter, but with armies bearing down on us and the need to start production on things like gunpowder, it just... slipped through."

Hortensius, ever the inquisitive one, asked, "What are they used to make?"

"Individually, nothing. But when combined, they create a new plant called a Russian Dandelion. The roots from these plants can be turned into a sticky substance that, when processed with other chemicals, will make a bouncy material called rubber, which has a wide array of uses. However, it will take a long time to produce even after we get the flowers."

"So this is something like gunpowder," Hortensius mused. "We grind the roots up and mix them together to form something new, right? Does that mean you want to grow them here? I assume you know they'll grow in our climate, but doesn't that mean waiting an entire year for the plants to grow? And wouldn't you have to use a large part of that crop to grow even more plants?"

"Yes, the end result comes from drying and grinding the roots, but no, I don't want to mix them together. Each plant alone doesn't have the properties I need. If they are bred together, they'll create a new plant with the properties I seek."

Ky and Sophus had extensively discussed their options for rubber. Their new ships would be able to travel to the Americas, where they could obtain useful items like potatoes or corn, but rubber posed a more significant challenge. They couldn't simply transplant rubber trees as they could with corn and potatoes, as rubber trees required a tropical climate to grow. Defeating Carthage and establishing trading posts near the Gulf of Guinea might help, but that wouldn't happen anytime soon and would present its own set of problems. Trade with Southeast Asia was also an option, but it remained out of reach for the time being.

The European answer to tropical-based rubber trees lay in the Russian dandelion, a plant developed during a nineteenth-century global conflict as a substitute for rubber by one of the warring nations. However, it wasn't a naturally occurring plant during the Roman era; it was a hybridization of two other plants with much lower concentrations of latex, the base material that could be transformed into rubber.

Though they lacked the time for an extended, decade-long breeding program to create this plant, Sophus believed he could hasten the process. He thought he could use the nanites in Ky's blood to genetically modify the two seeds together, creating their own Russian dandelion. He'd already demonstrated that he could modify Ky's nanites for use in another organism, but this was a significant leap, and Ky remained skeptical. For one, the nanites relied partially on the heat produced by the human body, and there was no way to extract the nanites using their current technological capabilities.

Sophus's proposed solution involved placing the seeds in a nutrient bath of water and boiled-down simple sugars. They would keep the mixture warm, albeit cooler than the human body, as the dandelion seeds would begin to break down at around ninety degrees Fahrenheit. Ky would then introduce his nanite-laden blood into the concoction. It was hoped that the nanites would survive long enough to start converting the seeds, editing and splicing their DNA together. The nanites wouldn't self-replicate in the mixture, so Ky would have to periodically add more blood as the previous round of nanites expired. Even if it worked, questions remained about the amount of blood Ky would have to sacrifice to alter the seeds and the subsequent impact on his health.

Long term, Ky wasn't worried about his health, as his body would continuously produce new nanites as long as he lived. However, even with his advanced biology, Ky needed his blood and could only generate so much at a time. Considering his numerous responsibilities and the constant demands on his time and attention, the process would greatly weaken Ky, affecting every other project.

If the first batch grew successfully, they would start producing seeds for the new strain of plants, which meant the process would only be needed once.

"And yes, they will grow here," Ky continued. "You're also right that we don't have time to wait an entire year for a new crop. I'm going to give you a design for a new kind of greenhouse that uses the new glass we're making for its sides and roof, allowing light in and retaining heat. I think once some of the farmers see this, we'll see these buildings popping up elsewhere, as they'll enable us to grow some seasonal plants year-round, helping with our food supplies in winter. While we wait for Valdar to obtain our plants, I want to start building the greenhouses, so we can begin planting as soon as possible."

"You understand these regions are far from where we operate. Even my contacts don't venture out this far. We'll likely have to go through two or even three middlemen to obtain them," Valdar cautioned.

"I know, which is why I'm willing to pay so much for them. We don't need this to be a long-term arrangement. I just need a large enough batch of each."

"I'll see what I can do," Valdar promised.