Lost Republic (18 page)

The voice was feminine and familiar. He squinted at the featureless outline.

“Genera?” That was Jenny Hopkins's Latin name he somehow knew.

The figure came closer. Pale hands appeared, easing back the drapery covering her head.

“Elianora?” Hans almost laughed with relief. “Elianora, is that you?”

It was her. Her manner was strange, detached, but it was good to see a familiar face!

“Levius Moro and his sister, Julia, need your help,” she said, coming closer still. She explained how Julie had ended up in a brothel and how Leigh needed help getting her out.

“I will help!” Hans vowed, and then he looked away, stricken. “But I am starving. Do you have anything to eat, Elianora?”

She said nothing, but took his hand. Hans let himself be led like a child for many streets until he reached a fine, upper-class building on the far side of the Field of Mercury. It was built of the usual brick, but the doors and windows were faced with marble. In the lintel over the door was chiseled the word MEDICVS.

“This is the home of my master, Dr. Dioscorides,” Eleanor whispered. “He sleeps above. Do not waken him.”

She unlocked the door with a huge iron key. They went into the doctor's dark consulting room, which smelled strongly of strange spices and medicines. Eleanor lit a candle. She used a strike anywhere match—more technology the ancient Romans did not possess.

Two walls were lined with benches for patients. A lone chair across the room served as the doctor's examination table. Beyond that were shelves and cabinets crammed with all sorts of weird organic items used in Latin medicine: dried herbs, pressed flowers, stones, jars of murky liquids, and mummified parts of animals. Overhead, a stuffed baby alligator hung from the ceiling on string.

Amid the homely medicines and Spartan benches, one item was out of place. A gleaming white statue of a god, a quarter life-size, sat on a black stone pedestal opposite the door. In the poor light, it seemed to glow on its own.

Hans eyed the statue. “Aesculapius?” he asked, naming the Roman god of medicine.

“Apollo,” she replied, gazing at the image with a faint smile.

He thought nothing more about it. Apollo was the god of healing, so it wasn't odd to find a votive statue in a doctor's office.

Weary, he sat down in the doctor's chair. Hans must have dozed a little, for the next thing he knew, Eleanor was gently shaking him awake.

“Food,” she said. “Eat.”

With dirty fingers, he tore apart the half-loaf of round bread she had brought, liberally doused with the oily fish sauce the Latins used like ketchup on everything. Hans didn't care. At this point, he would have happily eaten a strip of shoe leather.

“Can you take me to Levius?” he said through a mouthful of food. Sitting primly facing him, Eleanor agreed she could. But they had another task to do first.

“We must speak to Gallus,” she said. “I know where he is.”

“And Genera,” Hans added. Eleanor shook her head.

“She is sworn to goddess Ceres. The penalties for deserting a temple are grave.”

“So is working in a brothel.”

Though he was exhausted from days of hunger and sleeping in ditches or doorways, Hans urged Eleanor to take him to France Martin.

“There is another like you—Linnea. You may enlist her instead of the acolyte Genera.”

“I want them both,” Hans insisted. “At least we can put the situation to them, and they can make their own choice.”

Something went plop in the dark corner of the room. Hans leaped to his feet. Eleanor took the candle into the pyramid of darkness and showed him what made the noise. It was a clepsydra, or water clock, which marked time using water dripping from one bowl into another.

Flexing his fingers, Hans said, “Let's get going.” Eleanor promised to follow as soon as she put out the light.

Hans slipped outside. When he was gone, Eleanor stood close to the statue of Apollo and whispered, “Lord, did you hear?”

“Yes, I heard.”

“What am I to do?”

“Let the young newcomers do as they will.”

“Is that best, lord? Will you stop them from fleeing the city?”

The god was silent. Eleanor whispered his name, but the statue said nothing.

Who knows what gods think? Their ways are mysterious, or they would not be gods.

Before leaving, Eleanor went to the doctor's closed cupboard. She took one of his keen knives and tucked it inside her gown. To extinguish the candle, she pushed the palm of one hand into the flame. It went out. Her skin blistered, but she felt no pain.

Linh slept with her door blocked. As a servant, she wasn't allowed a lock or latch, so every night she blocked the door to her room with her only piece of furniture besides her bed. The four-legged stool was sturdy, but it wouldn't keep out a determined intruder. All Linh could hope for was that anyone breaking in would make so much noise, the Livius household would rally to her defense.

She blocked the door mainly to keep out Drusus. He was too cowardly to assault her, but Linh didn't want to wake up some time and find him snuggled up with her. So she blocked the door every night.

Her thoughts were harsh when she heard scratching on her door. She said, “Go away, Drusus!” twice, but the tapping continued. She threw back her thin blanket and stalked to the door, stubbing her toe along the way. Biting her lip and cursing silently, Linh put her lips close to the door and hissed, “Go to bed, Drusus! I'll tell your father if you don't!”

“—not Drusus,” she heard a muffled voice say through the panel. It sounded like a girl. Linh hazarded a peep. There were two figures outside. She started to slam the door, but a strong hand gripped the panel and pushed her back.

“Linnea! Don't make a fuss—it's me, Ioannus!”

Hans, here? Linh relented. In swept Hans Bachmann and Eleanor Quarrel, looking flushed and frantic. Both talked at once, and in no time, Linh learned about Julie Morrison's terrible predicament. Would she come along and help Julie escape?

“Before you answer,” Eleanor said, “know that this is deathly serious business. Julia can be flogged for abandoning her mistress. Levius could be executed for desertion.”

“Yes, and I'll be sold into slavery for being a vagrant,” Hans added hastily. “It's plain we have to get out of Eternus Urbs forever, and the Republic, too, if possible.”

“Where will we go?” Linh wondered aloud. No one had an answer.

Standing apart in the near darkness, Eleanor said quietly, “To the north and west lies Ys, the realm of the barbarians. Southeast is the wasteland of Heka.”

Hans turned to look at her. “You've learned a lot. That's good. What's this Heka like?”

“A desert of sand and sun, hostile to all life.”

“Can't be that bad,” Linh said. “We're on an island, after all. How different from Latium can it be?”

“We know what the people of Ys are like,” said Hans. He'd had enough of muscular idiots with swords. “If we get out of Eternus, I say we head south. If Heka has a bad reputation, maybe the Latins won't follow us there. In any event, if we get to the sea, we may spot a passing ship.”

Linh threw a light wrap around her shoulders and followed Hans and Eleanor out. Wordlessly, Eleanor led them through the black and empty streets to the house of Falco, the builder. Along the way, it struck Hans how knowledgeable Eleanor had become during their short time in Eternus. She knew about Latium's neighbors, and she knew where to find Linh and France—come to think of it, she was lying in wait for him, too, and he was homeless, adrift in the streets! How did Eleanor know so much?

He stopped so short, Linh walked into his back.

“Elianora,” he said, “I have a question. More than one, really.”

A few feet away, the girl paused, a shadow among shadows. Distantly she replied, “What?”

Hans put it to her bluntly. “How did you know the things you know?"

“The god has aided me, to see justice done.”

Linh and Hans exchanged worried looks.

“The ‘gods' aren't real,” Linh said.

“Oh, but they are.” Eleanor moved on. Her last words drifted back. “They watch us, even now.”

Linh shuddered a little and instinctively peered back over her shoulder. Aside from an expanse of brick wall and a few closed shutters, there was nothing behind them.

Hans took her by the arm, and they hurried after Eleanor. They went quite a ways through the residential wards of Eternus, out of the District of Mercury to the artisans' quarter, the District of Vulcan. When they topped a good-sized hill, they were able to look down on a large portion of Eternus. It was like a black reef in the sea, set with many warm, tiny lights. Here and there, a great temple shone in the night, glowing with its own power. Hans was reminded of casinos he'd seen at Nice and Monaco, classical piles bathed in garish light all through the night. Even so, Eternus was a mighty sight. None of them had ever seen so much of it at one time before.

“How many people live here, do you think?” Linh asked.

“Half a million?” guessed Hans.

“Three hundred forty-nine thousand, six hundred sixty-two,” Eleanor recited. For some reason, the precision of her answer made Hans laugh. Linh joined in, a little titter she hid behind her hand.

“That's only a guess,” Eleanor said, deadpan. Hans and Linh laughed harder.

They found the house of Falco. It was shut tight. Hans considered boosting Linh over the wall surrounding the rear courtyard, but she spotted shards of sharp glass imbedded in the top of the wall. They were debating how to get in when they heard the watch coming. Hans hid in a deep doorway while Linh and Eleanor pretended to be strolling down the street. The watch—eight men from the XXIII Legion—passed by, marching in close order. They eyed the girls, but Linh looked away so haughtily, they laughed and marched on. Hans emerged when they were gone.

“There's no easy way in,” he said.

Just then, a door in the courtyard wall opened. A man emerged with a large jar under his arm. He poured the contents in the gutter and started back. Linh darted out quiet as a bird. The man let the door shut, and she slipped the hem of her shawl under the latch as it closed. When they heard the inside door close, she waved her companions over.

“I have the latch!” she whispered. Carefully they pulled up on her shawl. The latch slipped off its hook. The door was open!

They crossed the cluttered courtyard in single file, Hans and Linh tiptoeing, and Eleanor gliding with uncanny silence. There were timber frames under construction, piles of bricks, and wooden steps being cut out and pegged together. They avoided all this. Eleanor led them to a covered porch on the south side of the yard.

She pointed to the second door. Hans tried the latch. It yielded. One by one, they slipped inside.

There was no safe way to wake France, so Hans clamped a hand over his mouth while Linh knelt in a sliver of light cast by an open atrium. France flinched hard, but instantly relaxed when he saw Linh spliced by shadows beside him.

Hans lifted his hand.

“What the hell are you doing?” France said, too loud. Eleanor, by the door, put a finger to her lips.

“How many of you are here?”

“Ioannes, Linnea, Elianora.”

France sat up. He wasn't wearing anything but a sort of breechcloth. Linh turned away, redder than usual.

Hans outlined their problem. France listened gravely without revealing anything he thought or felt.

“I'm doing well here,” he said when Hans finished. “I've discovered I like woodworking and house building.”

Hans stared. Linh, facing away, said, “So you're happy to stay here and see Julia end up a prostitute?”

“I didn't say that.”

“So, will you join us?” asked Hans.

France drew up his knees and locked his arms around them.

“Have you thought more about why we're here—and where ‘here' is?” He let the question hang in the air and went on. “I have some ideas.”

“What about Julia—?”

“Julia can wait a moment. I want to say aloud some of the things I've been thinking.” France lowered his chin to his arms. “First, we never left our time. It's still the twenty-first century and still planet Earth we're on. Agreed?” Hans and Linh said yes. Eleanor said nothing.

“This place is exactly where we think it is—the North Atlantic ocean, somewhere between Europe and North America.”

“But there's nothing there,” said Linh. “A few islands, like Ireland and Iceland, but no place like this!”

“And yet here we are,” said France. “In this parody of ancient Rome. With Arabic numerals and electrically charged arrowheads.”

Hans's voice rose. “They have printing presses and moveable type!”

“And matches,” said Linh.

“We're not back in time. This place is some kind of secret enclave, hidden from the outside world. How, I don't know. But I am sure whoever runs this place caused the wreck of the
Carleton
.”

“Why would they do that?” asked Linh.

“Fresh blood,” Hans said, catching on. “‘Newcomers,' they called us. They captured us alive and brought us to the city to be assimilated—”

“They've done this before!” Linh cried. Eleanor, by the door, whispered, “Shh!”

“Many times, probably,” said France. “Think of all the planes and ships that have disappeared in the Atlantic. Hundreds of ships and planes, thousands of people! We're dealing with amazing technology, very powerful. They can brainwash people into believing they live in an ancient Roman republic. They made us speak Latin, all in a flash.”

Eleanor cleared her throat. The others glanced at her. She turned away to peek out the door, diligently watching for trouble.

“Most amazing of all, they healed me instantly when I was badly wounded.” France's hand went to the spot over his kidney where the soldier had stabbed him. There wasn't even a scar, but he knew exactly where the blade had gone in.

“Who has such power?” Linh said.

France stood up. “That, I don't know.”

“All very interesting,” Hans said. “But what about Julia and Levius? If he tries to help his sister alone, they'll kill him, and maybe her, too.”

“Who knows how to find Levius?” They looked to Eleanor, who nodded slightly. “Ask him to meet us on the Field of Mercury tomorrow night, by the Temple of Mercury.”

“What if he can't get away?” Linh said.

“Then he'd better get used to the idea of his sister serving Venus in the house of Luxuria.”

Eleanor said, “I will get him there. At what hour?”

France glanced up through the atrium. “As soon after sundown as he can manage. We'll need all the darkness we can get to cover our escape.”

“Are we all going?” Hans said. “If so, I want Genera to go, too.”

“What about Aemilius?”

None of them had thought about Emile Becquerel. “I think he succumbed to the brainwashing like all the others,” France said.

Hans and France were not allowed to approach the Temple of Ceres, being male, so Linh offered to find Jenny and tell her what was happening. If she had been brainwashed, too, then they would have to leave her behind.

Hans and Eleanor said good-bye and crept out. Before Linh could follow them, France caught her by the hand.

He focused hard and tried to say "Take care!" in French, but what came out was
“Commodo exsisto curiosus!”

When she did not pull away, he took the chance and touched his cheek to hers. He felt a flare of warmth there, and Linh slipped away. Then France was alone in the empty darkness of his room.