Before he could say any more to her, heavy footsteps came from upstairs and Celer appeared at their table, a fat man in an oil-soaked tunic. Under other circumstances, Pullus might have smiled. Made some remark about how it had been too long since his last visit. But Celer looked pale and worried.
“Pullus, thank Aesculapius you’re here!”
Pullus glanced at Taedia, but knew their visit had been unannounced. He hadn’t even told Galbo where they’d be heading. “I’m here on business,” Pullus said. “Calpurnia’s business.”
Celer looked confused. “But I sent riders. To your villa?”
Pullus stood. “I’m staying at my townhouse for a few days,” he said. “But as I’m already here, why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?”
22
THE BAKERY HAD a single room above containing five beds, where the family slept. The smell of fresh bread failed to penetrate from below. Instead, the dominant odour was of stale sweat. It acted as a reminder that there was only so much cash that could be accumulated from grinding wheat. Although Celer was a free man, he wasn’t wealthy.
“She’s in that bed.”
Pullus squinted into the gloom. If Celer’s daughter hadn’t been pointed out to him, he wouldn’t have noticed her. But then the covers of the bed moved, and he caught the faint sounds of breathing.
“How long has she been like this?”
“A few days. Worse than before.”
The girl had pulled her covers high so all he could see was a mop of thick hair. The bedding looked damp. The smell grew much stronger as Pullus approached.
“Is she awake? Can she talk?”
Celer shook his head. Pullus knew it was too late. She would either recover, or she would die. Just like the others.
“She needs some of your pills,” Celer said.
“She won’t be able to swallow them,” Pullus answered, maybe a little too bluntly. “She’ll choke.”
He knelt by the girl’s bed. He tried not to breathe, and lifted the cover only ever so slightly. Her eyes were open, and red. Skin pale and wet. Her body was trembling uncontrollably, and she was only partially conscious. She probably couldn’t even see him. He dropped the cover and backed away.
“When was the last time she drank any water?”
Celer muttered something, then said, “Drowning is no better than choking.”
Taedia came to stand beside Pullus. “This isn’t why you’re here,” she said, her voice very low. Her eyes flicked across the room towards the far wall. He knew what she’d seen.
The room was decorated with objects stolen from NovusPart. Bits and pieces prised away from the few houses in town that had been reserved for their staff. In the far corner stood the door of a jeep. One wall was graced by a flat-screen TV. And then there were the dozens of bits of bric-a-brac: pens, watches, shoes and belt buckles. But he couldn’t see what he’d come for. Celer owned a tablet computer, and it would need to be taken from him before Naso found out that he owned it.
“She needs some of your pills,” the baker said again.
Pullus shook his head. Where was the damn tablet? “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s too late.”
“You gave them to the aedile’s boy. Remember?”
Pullus winced. When he’d received his first batch of antibiotics they’d come with a simple list of instructions describing the illnesses for which they could and couldn’t be used. And although he’d mainly stuck to those instructions, sometimes he hadn’t. News had quickly got around: Pullus could cure the disease the Romans called the shivers. The truth was that the aedile’s boy had simply been lucky.
“Please, Pullus. We can grind them up and get her to swallow.”
Pullus looked back at the bed. The girl would likely die, and he was almost out of antibiotics. Why should he waste them? Especially when he knew no more were coming? “Calpurnia has instructed me to gather together all the old NovusPart equipment,” he said.
“You can have anything you fucking want, Pullus.”
Pullus nodded, and moved towards the stairs. He felt dizzy. He needed to get away from the girl and her father, between himself and a promise the gods might not allow him to keep. “Galbo will bring some medicine later this morning,” he said. “Have everything boxed up. Including the tablet.”
Celer made a choked sound, as if the mention of his most treasured item was almost too high a price to pay. Pullus hesitated at the top of the stairs.
“You still have it, don’t you? The tablet?”
Celer didn’t answer. He showed it off only occasionally. It had been found in the House of Astridge, its screen long since cracked, maybe dropped by a careless NovusPart employee. During his visits to eat here, Pullus had paid it no attention other than to explain how it was meant to work to Celer. He hadn’t expected the baker to ever give it away. In truth, he’d arrived here today expecting to have to argue with the baker – hoping that he’d be able to persuade Celer to give up the tablet voluntarily rather than have Naso bludgeon it from him.
“You sold it? Really?”
“I didn’t sell it, Pullus. The aedile – Popidius – took the damn thing when my daughter became sick.”
“I don’t…?”
“You weren’t here, Pullus. I thought he might have some of your pills left over.” The baker laughed bitterly. “You’ll be taking his collection as well, I hope?”
Pullus hesitated. “I didn’t know he was in that market.”
“Over the last few months, he must have built up the single biggest collection in Pompeii.”
* * *
After walking a few streets back towards the forum, Pullus stopped at another food joint and bought two more pieces of bread, this time with raisins. He chewed slowly, and waited whilst Taedia made up her mind as to whether she was going to accept her breakfast.
“That girl isn’t going to live, is she?”
Pullus shrugged, but instantly regretted giving the impression he didn’t care. “Maybe,” he said. “She has a chance, but it doesn’t look good.”
“And yet you’re still going to give her some of your pills?”
“Yes.”
“I heard you were running short of them.”
“That’s right.”
“And I also heard they only work on illness that creates pus?”
“We’re going to run out of them anyway,” Pullus said, thinking of the problems now facing the outside world. “And at least we haven’t become too used to having them.”
Taedia nodded. He offered her the bread again. Hesitantly, she took it from him. “So now we go to the aedile? Popidius?”
Pullus considered for a moment. A large part of him wanted to go back to his townhouse. To wait, whilst Naso and the aediles did the hard work of collecting together everything they could that even smelled of NovusPart. But something about what Celer had said about Popidius had puzzled him. Why had he been collecting NovusPart memorabilia before Harris had arrived in town? Before Calpurnia had issued her instructions? “No. We’re going to see the duumvir.”
Taedia looked confused. “I don’t understand.”
“Naso doesn’t like me talking directly to the aediles. He prefers me to go through him.”
“But we’re working for Calpurnia…”
“We?”
Taedia seemed to shrink back into herself. “You. I meant to say ‘you’.”
Pullus took a final bite of his breakfast, licking the crumbs off his fingers. “I think you were right the first time, actually.”
Taedia looked away down the via. “Then we head this way, yes?”
“No,” Pullus replied. “We’ll skirt around the other side of the Forum Baths, and head to the Marine Gate, via the Temple of Apollo.”
“But this way is quicker?”
“The long way round is fine.”
Pullus didn’t explain further. He’d no intention of walking directly past the Temple of Fortuna Augusta. He could already see its front steps were busy, and
there was some sort of ceremony going on inside. Although he didn’t mind eating underneath a fresco of the man who can’t be killed amongst friends, he had no wish to amble past a religious ceremony in which his statue was front and centre.
His shadow kept pace behind him. They passed under the Arch of Germanicus, and he only caught the tail end of someone shouting his name as they reached the aedile’s offices. He ignored them; he didn’t need any more votives. He turned to Taedia. “There’s something you need to understand,” he said. “We’re dancing to a tune that’s already been played.”
Taedia was silent, and Pullus suddenly wondered how much she knew about the NovusPart device. Maybe this would be a good time for her to find out. Perhaps the informer could work in two directions.
“Growing up in Calpurnia’s service, you must have got to know a lot about the NovusPart device? You must have heard Calpurnia discuss things with her Greek?”
“Yes.”
“Then you must know we can’t change what happens from here on in. After Calpurnia’s father – Barbatus – defeated NovusPart, I spent a long time thinking about what happened. About my role in events. And I came to one conclusion.”
“And what was that?”
“No matter what I did, things would have still worked out the same,” Pullus said. “The two sides of the square would have still been joined. Except for one big difference. I would have been crucified along with all the others.”
“But you can’t be killed…?”
“I couldn’t be killed in the arena, no. But only because I was needed to make one particular pathway to the future work. Others existed. They just weren’t taken.”
Before they reached Naso, he needed to make his shadow understand. That they didn’t have to step so much quickly, as carefully. “Maybe there is no tune,” he said. “Maybe we’re making decisions and doing things that have no bearing on the future. Calpurnia’s Greek may suddenly wake up with the answer buzzing in his skull. And what interest would the gods have in us then, eh? Would they rescue me from the amphitheatre again?”
23
Naples
BENEATH HIS FACEMASK, Nick grinned. There was something thrilling about crossing a road in Naples. He waited for the final vehicle in the platoon to pass, then hurried to the relative safety of the opposite pavement. So much for being the man who can’t be killed, he thought. Perhaps in New Pompeii he believed it. But certainly not here in Italy.
Pausing, Nick lifted his mask a couple of centimetres to get a breath of fresh air. Chloe had dropped him a few blocks south so that he could make his way through the old part of town. On either side of him, small shops spilled out into the narrow confines of the street. Hardly any sold food and drink now; most were just stocked with junk related to both “new” and “old” Pompeii.
The Bureau of Roman Affairs wasn’t far from where he was standing. Of course, there’d been other potential hosts for their offices. As the former seat of NovusPart, the British had initially put forward Cambridge, until they’d got cold feet about the associations with Roman slavery. The Turks had then made a bid for Istanbul and, for no clear reason, the French had suggested Paris. But of the remaining candidates nowhere – not even Rome – could match Naples, because no city was closer to Pompeii. The real Pompeii.
It didn’t take too long before the narrow, winding streets of the old town gave way to the pastel pink facade of the Naples Archaeological Museum. As ever, a couple of long, sleek coaches were parked at the bottom of its steps. Nick weaved through the clusters of rich tourists and headed towards the ticket booths. On the other side of the turnstiles, his contact at the Bureau gave him a nod of greeting and instructed the guards to let him through. “Ciao.”
“Buongiorno.”
Fabio was in his mid-forties and putting on weight proportional to that age. But although he spent most of his time cooped up in an office, he did at least know something about the ancient world, which meant he was able to understand the details Nick brought him. Unlike many of his counterparts.
Fabio looked puzzled. “I thought last time we gave you airway filters?”
Nick pulled the facemask down. “You did.”
“Good. And… I’m sorry to hear about your father. He’s now in the last stage?”
Nick deliberately didn’t answer, and instead indicated towards the crowd milling in the foyer. “Busy day?”
“No different from normal,” Fabio said, turning into the great hall. Nick followed him. He thought he knew where they’d be heading. With all the relics from Pompeii and Herculaneum filling the upper floors, the warren of displays and side rooms on the ground floor were often left a little quieter, which meant they could talk without being interrupted. Fabio, however, made for the main marble staircase. “Good trip?”
Nick nodded. “Got in last night.”
“Any groupies?”
Nick shook his head. “Just one. I seem to have lost my allure. But I don’t miss the attention.”
“Then good.”
Nick initially followed his Bureau contact, but then pulled Fabio to a halt as he reached one of the two massive marble lions guarding the foot of the staircase. “I saw a couple of children die of whooping cough when I got home,” Nick said. “Two minor miracles gone because you’ve stopped sending us penicillin.”
Fabio’s jaw flexed. “The Bureau is having difficulty securing the necessary supplies.”
“We’re talking about a common medicine.”
“Common since about 1945.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The Roman Empire died a long time before antibiotics were invented,” Fabio replied. “More and more people are questioning why you should benefit from the advances of the modern world, when your society remains so primitive.”
Nick had heard this line of argument before. “The terms have been agreed for years.”
“You’re not aware of all the facts.”
“Which are?”
“It’s better that you see for yourself. It’s why I asked to meet you here.”
Above them, the marble steps led up to the key exhibits from Pompeii and Herculaneum. They walked through the galleries, then stopped ahead of a wrought iron gate at the mouth of the Gabinetto Segreto.
Nick peered in at the first exhibit – a giant stone phallus. His first visit to this part of the museum was etched well into his memory: he’d been caught gawping by a female student he’d wanted to ask out. Needless to say, he hadn’t got a date.
Nick looked towards Fabio. The Italian didn’t appear to be in a hurry. Outside, the sirens of emergency vehicles provided their usual background soundtrack. “Well?”
“There’s too many people,” Fabio said, switching to Latin, although not the Latin of New Pompeii. It took Nick a while to tune back into the more stilted version used by academics and priests. It was clear the Bureau Chief didn’t want anyone to overhear and understand. “I’ve arranged a private viewing.”
“I’ve been here before.”
“We’ve got some new exhibits. Some things we needed to keep away from academics. Security will soon have cleared the area.”
Indeed, a few seconds later a couple of security guards started to usher the other visitors from the Gabinetto. There were a few grumbles, but for any regular visitors what was now happening fitted fairly innocuously with the random way in which the museum opened and closed its galleries.
Fabio turned to him. “The terms of the treaty are clear, yes?”
Nick nodded.
“And you’ve always assured me that your friends in New Pompeii haven’t been using the NovusPart device. Just as per those same terms?”
“That’s right,” Nick replied. “There have only been a few experiments.”
“Two or three, you said.”
“Just enough to test the tech.”
“Certain matters have come to light that have made us rethink things.”
“Such as?”
With the
Gabinetto Segreto empty, Fabio ushered him forwards. The Bureau Chief swept aside a curtain beside one of the cabinets, and unlocked a door hidden behind it. It led out into a brightly lit laboratory.
“A secret room?” Nick asked. “Inside the Gabinetto Segreto?”
“What can I say,” Fabio replied, leading the way inside. “The Italians have a distinct sort of humour.”
Inside the lab, a collection of Roman frescos were laid out on a workbench. A magnifying glass mounted on an articulated arm was swung over the set. Fabio indicated he should take a look.
The frescos were little neat squares of plaster, all depicting sexual acts. The colours remained vivid, not having been dulled by years spent in display cases, nor damaged by roughshod excavation.
Nick squinted at the label. “From Pompeii?”
“Yes. From the new digs.”
Nick wrinkled his nose. “This is what you wanted me to see?”
“Yes.”
“Somehow, I figured you’d have something more interesting than porn.”
“Forget the label. Look at the damn fresco.”
Nick took hold of the magnifying glass, and pulled it over the central fresco. The eyeglass picked up the finest of surface details – and brought into view something that perhaps hadn’t been seen by those cutting it from the walls of the dig site.
Underneath the bed on which two young lovers were copulating, a few words had been scratched, but only one was still legible. “Shit,” Nick whispered.
NovusPart.
24
Ruins of Ancient Pompeii
“With the passing of so many years and so many men, unfortunately we can now learn more in the sewers of Herculaneum than we can from speaking with Mr Houghton’s faux Romans, a growing number of whom were born long after the eruption of Vesuvius.”
Professor Hayden,
Lead Archaeologist, Herculaneum
World Archaeology News Message Board
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