by Tom Pollack
Cain realized he had to concoct an explanation immediately, and one that the emperor would find convincing.
“Your wound is completely healed, Philo! Will you kindly tell me how this is possible?”
Cain’s eyes briefly darted about, falling on one of the emperor’s many wall maps. His answer flashed to him as he recalled his charting trip to the eastern Chinese coast.
“Of course, Majesty. I did not deem it worthy of mention at the time, but on my trip to the Yellow Sea some months ago, I chanced upon some medicinal herbs said by the local residents to possess marvelous healing qualities. With these plants, I was able to create a single dose of elixir. This is what I used on the cheek wound last evening after we parted. I hesitated to inform you, though, until I verified the medicine’s potency.”
The emperor listened intently to Cain’s tale. Then he relaxed his grip on the sword and returned to his seat.
“Well, it seems that your concoction is most effective!” he exclaimed. Knitting his brows together, he continued, “You are a very resourceful man, and not just in cartography, Philo of Alexandria. If you have created one healing dose of medicine from these herbs, I should imagine that you can produce more. My alchemists will be at your disposal. They have extensive experience.”
“You may rely on my most obedient efforts, Majesty. But the herbs were not plentiful, and my supply is now exhausted.”
The Emperor waved his hand dismissively. “That deficiency is easily remedied. You and I will travel east and procure a fresh supply of these herbs. We will not rest, Philo, until we have more of this miraculous medicine!”
***
Their departure from Xi’an was set for three months after the royal wedding. During the Emperor’s absence, Li Si would act as regent, directing the day-to-day administration from the capital and bearing royal seals that empowered him to raise troops. Perhaps not coincidentally, Kwok-se decided to return to the Silk Road for another diplomatic and commercial venture abroad.
Cain pondered his predicament. Not since his final audience with Ramesses had his ruses to hide his longevity secret placed him at such risk. He was about to embark on what amounted to a wild goose chase with an increasingly unstable man who was capable of mass slaughter on a whim. Cain could only imagine the fate that awaited him when the trip’s inevitable failure became evident. Granted, the Chinese had learned to employ herbs for a wide variety of medicinal purposes, but he was unaware of any whose effects remotely resembled his own regenerative powers. All that came to mind was the fabled Tree of Life that once lay within the Garden of Eden his parents had told him about eons ago. Even assuming this tree had survived the flood, which he doubted, the search party was headed in the opposite direction.
On the day of his own departure, Kwok-se gave his friend a warm farewell embrace, but he could sense more discomfort on Cain’s part than he anticipated.
“Why are you so ill at ease today, Philo? I should think you would be enthusiastic about your upcoming journey. After all, he who assists the emperor in his quest can anticipate a flood of blessings.”
Cain sighed. “I suppose I would be excited if I held any expectation of success. But candidly, my friend, I simply do not know the whereabouts of any magical plants.”
Kwok-se’s tone became more serious. “Listen carefully to me. I have waited until today to tell you this. You and I both know that His Majesty is slowly being poisoned by Li Si. I suggest you needn’t find any herbs bearing special curative powers. Instead, your goal for this venture should be to draw the emperor as far away from Li Si as you can. Then, at all costs, find some way to convince him to cease ingesting the mercury potions. If you succeed, he will begin to notice improved vitality very soon, which you can attribute to any herb you wish to offer him as a substitute.”
Cain saw the wisdom of his friend’s suggestion, but he also understood how deeply Li Si’s hooks were already set in the emperor.
***
With Kwok-se’s plan offering at least a glimmer of hope, Cain now confronted the problem of where to steer the royal party, which numbered sixty thousand. On his previous journey while making the great map, he had not explored eastern China extensively, but had rather confined himself to the coastal regions. His first instinct was to suggest that the expedition focus on Zhifu, the island the emperor had visited twice before during his reign. Perhaps he could convince Qin Shihuangdi that, despite the emperor’s previous disappointments, the islanders might hold the secrets of immortality after all.
“You have my assent, Philo. The climate of Zhifu is most invigorating, even if many of the inhabitants there are imbeciles!”
So to Zhifu they headed, but progress was slow. The emperor grew more and more easily distracted en route, prying into regional and local affairs with what seemed like obsession. Cain often wondered whether Qin Shihuangdi even recalled why they had set out on this journey in the first place. The mercury doses, administered daily by his physicians, were obviously exacting an increasing toll on the monarch’s health.
Yet it would be a grave mistake, Cain reminded himself, to underestimate this emperor—to say nothing of his cunning prime minister, Li Si.
***
As their search continued, Qin Shihunagdi seemed to deteriorate noticeably by the day, so Cain’s urgency to act on Kwok-se’s suggestion intensified. He had been quietly collecting a mix of exotic-looking herbs and grinding them into fine powder. Now, on a bright morning some two months after they had departed Xi’an, Cain rushed into the emperor’s quarters with his “good” news.
“Majesty!” he exclaimed breathlessly. “I beg your pardon for the unannounced intrusion, but I believe I have fulfilled our quest!”
“I welcome the bearer of such tidings under any circumstances, Philo. What have you found?”
“Again, forgive me, but I wanted to be certain of success before offering even a progress report. I have secured a quantity of a potent mixture of herbs from a group of healers I encountered from a remote area right here in Zhifu. They assure me the preparation has powers beyond the imagination. And indeed, these men all possess an appearance decades younger than their reported age.”
Cain removed the lid from an ornately decorated box and handed it to the emperor.
“Ah, a most stimulating aroma! How is the preparation to be taken? I am anxious to begin.”
“As a tea, twice per day. But there is a more important aspect to the prescribed use of the herbs. I hope you will take no offense in my having consulted with the chief among these healers concerning your particular regimen. He tells me that the mercury you are taking will counteract the efficacy of the tea.”
The emperor studied the box in his hand, and drew from the folds of his robe a vial of mercury, which he held in the other hand speculatively. “Well then, I will take no chances. We will await the results of an evaluation of these claims by my physicians in Xi’an. I will order Xu Fu to dispatch a fleet messenger to carry a sample of your mixture back for their analysis.”
Cain bowed low, ostensibly out of respect but also to conceal his exasperation. Softly, he replied, “As always, your wisdom is worthy of your eminence.”
***
Three weeks later, Cain was scarcely surprised when Prime Minister Li Si and the emperor’s second son, Hu Hai, joined the imperial party, accompanied by Qin Shihuangdi’s chief physician. In effect, the government of China had moved from Xi’an to a small island off the coast in the Bohai Sea. Cain speculated on Li Si’s motivations for coming, but could conclude only that the cunning prime minister wanted to assure himself personally that Qin Shihuangdi was following the advice of the chief physician, who predictably prescribed a doubling of the emperor’s daily intake of mercury.
Disconsolate over his failure to carry out Kwok-se’s advice, and mindful of the sinister glances directed his way by Li Si, Cain began contemplating how he might escape.
CHAPTER 51
China, 210 BC
AFTER THE CELEBRATIONS OF
the Year of the Tiger in the winter of 210 BC, Li Si recommended that the court remove from Zhifu Island to the Shaqiu commandery on the mainland.
“Communications are far easier there, Majesty, and you will be more comfortable at the prefecture palace,” the older man counseled soothingly.
“Then give the order for departure, Li Si. We shall take counsel at Shaqiu how to proceed with our quest.”
***
At Shaqiu, their quarters were more spacious and the food was better, but the Emperor’s condition continued to worsen. Late one afternoon in early September, Cain received a summons for a special dinner to be held in the coastal palace. He assumed that it would be a formal meal for the top officials at court. But when he arrived, there were no other carriages in the palace grounds.
“I have invited you here this evening, Philo, so that we may share our souls in private,” the emperor declared unsteadily as Cain bowed low before the throne. “Come, let us sit for a cup of tea together.”
As the steaming oolong was served, the emperor confided expansively, “I have received messages that the entire tomb complex is complete at last. In particular, your splendid globe has been installed in the mausoleum. You have not failed to note my appreciation.” Cain recalled the large reward that had been bestowed on him by the palace before the departure from Xi’an.
“My congratulations, Majesty. Your project is unprecedented. Its fruition must fill you with happiness.”
“Yes,” the emperor concurred, his pleasure seemingly marred by a hint of irritation. “Many of my advisors, including Li Si, doubted that it was feasible. But you know,” he said leaning forward and staring with a feverish expression right into Cain’s eyes, “the design provides for every conceivable future contingency.” The emperor’s voice wavered and the left side of his face seemed immobilized. Cain wondered if he was now blind in that eye.
“What measures have you taken in that regard?” asked Cain softly.
“Tomb robbing is an ancient pursuit. I am sure you learned about it when you lived in Alexandria. The Egyptian pharaohs employed various methods to prevent it, but few of them succeeded.”
Cain nodded thoughtfully, recalling Menes and Ramesses.
“I have installed subterranean gates equipped with crossbows,” the emperor elaborated. “Anyone who dares to enter the mausoleum at those points will be skewered within a split second of opening the gates. The arrows, by the way, are ten feet long!” At this revelation, the emperor let out a crazed giggle, after which he regained his composure with some effort. “And then, of course, the thousands of my soldiers east of the mausoleum will fend off any vengeful spirits from those whom I have conquered in life. Finally, there will be no workers who survive to tell how the mausoleum was constructed. All of them have by now been interred on the site,” he concluded with satisfaction and an eerie smile.
Cain blinked. He had known many tyrants, but this man seemed to have taken leave of his senses.
“Let us now enjoy our meal,” the Emperor said as he rose from his throne. “Lijuan will sing and strum the lute for our entertainment as we dine. I trust you will find the delicacies to your liking.”
As the two men moved to seat themselves at a more formal dining table, the doors of the room swung open and Cain’s old acquaintance from Xi’an, attired in a shimmering robe of black satin embroidered with silver crescent moons, entered with a deep bow to the emperor. Seating herself discreetly on a couch near the dining table, she began to tune her instrument.
Dinner progressed through a series of ten courses, including delicacies such as bear’s paw, shark’s fin, sea cucumber, camel’s hump, and monkey brains. Each heaping platter was accompanied by a different variety of grape wine, rice wine, or Chinese spirits. The more exotic the fare, the more animated the emperor became. Over the meal, he reverted to the subject of western military and technological achievements that had been his preoccupation.
After dinner, the emperor dismissed Lijuan. Before her departure, she bowed low not only to Qin Shihuangdi but also to Cain, as if to suggest that a second encounter might be part of the evening’s program.
The emperor led Cain to an alcove, where a wall partition was ornamented by an enormous black lacquer screen showing mountains and delicate cranes etched in pink jade with wings and eyes of pure gold.
After they seated themselves and more spirits had been served, the emperor gazed at his guest. He poured the contents of another vial into his porcelain goblet and then inquired, “Now tell me, Philo. What are your latest plans to locate regenerative herbs? I appreciate your efforts on Zhifu Island, but we must obtain an elixir that is compatible with my current medication.”
Later Cain reflected that he had always known this moment would come.
Sitting alone with the emperor, looking into his anxious, twitching face, Cain simply couldn’t think of any more excuses.
“There are no such herbs, Majesty. Indeed, there were never any herbs.”
“How could that be? Your cure was miraculous. Medical science held no explanation for it.”
Cain locked eyes with the emperor. “I lied to you, Majesty.”
CHAPTER 52
Ercolano: Present Day
JUAN CARLOS WAS HARD at work on an alternative rescue plan. After deciphering 90 percent of the door code, he sat in front of his laptop, contemplating the Google Earth view of the site. Rummaging in his backpack for his Magellan handheld GPS unit, he entered the precise latitude and longitude coordinates of the chamber’s huge bronze entryway. Checking his watch every five minutes or so, Juan Carlos hurried through some calculations.
The apex of the chamber’s dome should have stood around eighty to ninety feet above ground, he figured from Silvio’s photograph of the fresco. This was just about the height of the pyroclastic flow let loose by Vesuvius in AD 79. As near as he could make out, the chamber had been constructed in what was today a sparsely forested area slightly to the north of the Villa dei Papiri. With luck, perhaps he could find the top of the dome with a metal probing rod.
“But even then, could I possibly punch through the dome in time?” he muttered to himself. As he continued to worry about Amanda’s plight, Juan Carlos could not resist the backward pull of memories…
***
He first saw Amanda at Q’s Billiard Club in West LA. It was mid-December seven years earlier, only a few days after he had led UCLA soccer to the conference championship, scoring two goals in a 3–2 victory. That game seemed a lifetime ago, but it still brought a smile to his face.
Tall, dressed in jeans and a light and dark blue sorority sweatshirt to fend off the sixty-degree Southern California “chill,” Amanda arrived at Q’s in a flurry of glossy blond hair and the expiring sigh of a European-style moped. Juan Carlos watched from a window table, with half a burger and a few stray nachos in suspended animation on his plate. His soccer buddies were quaffing beers and flirting with the girls, but for Juan Carlos the center of attention lay at the curb, twenty feet away. A vision in two shades of azure made her way to the entrance, having left her helmet on the back of the moped. He stared out the window and whistled under his breath, “Muy caliente!”
As usual on a Friday night, the bar was crowded, and she quickly disappeared in the ruckus. Gordon Miller, a tall, affable teammate, sauntered by the table.
“So who were you looking at, J. C.?”
“Pigeons, Gordo, just pigeons.”
“I didn’t know you Spanish guys were bird lovers,” chided the slightly inebriated goalkeeper. “She’s a Kappa, right?”
“I think so. Glad I noticed her before you did,” he smiled back at his friend, who rolled his eyes and rejoined the other guys.
Juan Carlos nursed the remainder of his meal, with the whirls of blond hair dancing in his mind. Half an hour later, cheers split the air from the billiards area. He decided to investigate. Threading through the crowd, he discovered that the blond moped girl was not only his center of attention, she was everyone’s. As
he watched, she calculated all the angles under a gaudy red fixture that brilliantly illuminated the table in the center of the room. Then she executed a devastating six-ball run, only to end ingloriously when she scratched the cue ball.
Dozens of Kappa Kappa Gamma sorority sisters let out a sigh of agony. All wore the same two-tone sweatshirt as Amanda. As Juan Carlos filtered the buzz, he gathered that the crowd had assembled for the semifinals of an intersorority nine-ball tournament. The best-of-five match was tied at two games apiece, but with Amanda’s scratch, only the nine ball remained. With the cue ball in hand, Kappa’s chief rival, Alpha Delta Pi, was now going to win, barring a miracle.
On opposite sides of the table, the blond and her playing partner, a buxom, olive-skinned Kappa sister, exchanged a farewell.
“We almost had it, Laura. Hey, next time! I’m outta here. Big test day tomorrow. Have fun!”
And then she was gone. Juan Carlos gave chase through the crowd, still thinking of what he might say to her. But he was delayed by some fans who recognized the Bruins’s top scorer. When he made it to the curb outside Q’s, the moped was in full sputter. Just before it sped away, he noticed a Spanish flag decal on the rear fender.
Intrigued, he returned to the bar and sought out Laura, who recognized him instantly. After a brief bit of chitchat about the game, Juan Carlos cut to the chase.
“So, does your playing partner have a boyfriend?” he asked, smiling broadly.
“Are you kidding?” Laura countered. “She’s a total bookworm who rarely gets out at night…”
***
Juan Carlos arrived late for his morning Classics lecture. To his consternation, the only vacant seat he could spot from the rear of Lenart Auditorium was in the front row. His spirits improved, though, when he reached the aisle and sat down in a hurry, right next to the girl he’d first noticed at Q’s a month before. Her long blond hair was up in a bun, and she wore reading glasses and no makeup. Amanda, he thought, somehow managed to look both sexy and studious at the same time.