Gregg Loomis - Gates Of Hades

In the inn's courtyard, I let the thirsty horse plunge its nose into the impluvium. ^3 Once the beast was sated, I handed the reins to a waiting groom and swung a leg over the animal's back.

"Be quick to dismount, Severenus," came a voice from behind me.

Turning, I saw a figure in a black cape, his face concealed both by its folds and the final darkness of the night.

"Who tells me when to dismount?" I snapped, unused to taking orders since my father's death.

Undaunted, the stranger replied, "The dead tell you. In your room you will find suitable vestmenta. Once you have put them on, come outside and follow the slave with the torch."

"It is dark. Any slave on the street will be carrying a torch for his master."

"Then you must select the correct one."

The stranger stepped back into the deeper of the shadows. By the time I reached the spot where he had been, the man was gone.

On the way to my room I was accosted by a young girl, perhaps ten or eleven, her face gaudily painted. Prostitutes were not allowed to solicit business at respectable inns, since several men occupied the same bed. The farther one got from Rome, the less enthusiasm the local authorities had for enforcing the rule.

I shooed her away. As she slunk down the stairs with a sultry look far beyond her years, I wondered what such a meeting might portend. ^4

I retired to my cubiculum ^5 to change. On top of the rough-woven covers was a cloak similar to the one I had seen in the courtyard below. Stripping off my horse- sweat-soaked clothes, I exchanged them for a clean tunic, over which I tossed the new cloak and went back downstairs. Outside the gate to the inn, a lone slave waited with a torch.

I followed down dark and deserted alleys, fearful of robbers or worse, until we came to a marble-lined doorway dug into the side of a hill. The hair on the back of my neck felt as though it were rising when the door swung open without sign or sound from my guide. Inside, a long hallway was lit by lamps.

My guide wordlessly stood aside and pointed to an open door through which I entered a small room. Its dimensions were such that I could neither lie down nor stand erect. As the door shut, the light of lamps revealed the most terrifying paintings on the walls: people with various deforming and hideous diseases, old age, hunger, death, insanity, and all matter of evil were vividly displayed. ^6 Had I known I would be left alone to confront such fearful images, visited only on occasion, as food and drink were brought by silent figures who left after refreshing the lamps, I might have wavered in my resolve to come here. ^7

Whether day or a night-I could not tell-a single bowl was placed before me filled with vegetables cooked in strange spices. After each meal, a different god or spirit would appear, though none would converse with me. ^8 At other intervals, my keepers would bathe me with strange-smelling waters and massage my body with oils. ^9

I know not how long I remained there, but at least twice priests in black robes with high, pointed headgear ^10 sacrificed one of the bullocks I had provided, examined its liver, and, finding the lobes flawed, postponed my journey. With each delay, the spirits who visited me became increasingly angry, and I began to wonder if I would go mad.

NOTES

1. Not to be confused with his father, Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa, senator and statesman.

2. Notably Actium, a sea battle in which the forces of Antony and Cleopatra were defeated 31 b.c.

3. A small pond that was the opening to the cistern common to villas and inns where the viaducts did not run or did not supply sufficient water.

4. Few things in Roman life were without possible significance in foretelling the future: the formation of a flight of birds, the frequency of croaking frogs, persons accidentally met on the street. Like most ancient cultures, the Romans used a number of methods to ascertain their fortunes: extispicy, or augury by inspection of animal entrails, particularly the liver, oracles, and omens. Interestingly, astrology did not become a popular method of divination in Rome until about the time of Christ, although other cultures-Babylonian, Egyptian, Greek-had seen the future in the stars for millennia.

5. A closet-sized, windowless room usually large enough to hold only the bed. Any activity other than deeping was conducted elsewhere. A stone slab was covered with a stuffed cloth mattress.

6. Virgil's Aeneid gives a similar description of such a room.

7. Alone, confronted by his fears, perpetual light, cramped and uncomfortable quarters, sleep deprivation, visited only by those bringing sustenance, at the mercy of unknown keepers- Tactus's captivity bears a remarkable resemblance to so-called brainwashing techniques or modern interrogation methods designed to break down the subject's resistance and perception of reality.

8. Pliny the Elder tells of a number of hallucinogenic plants with oracular connections, such as thorn apple, whose roots were made into a sort of tea; and henbane and nightshade (belladonna), both deadly poisons if used carelessly. Indeed, Greco-Roman oracular history is full of pilgrims to the underworld who never returned, their "spirits having been retained by other shades." Other accounts tell of travelers to Hades whose dispositions were forever changed or who died within months of their return. Coincidence or misuse of drugs?

9. The skin, the body's largest organ, is absorbent, as anyone who has ever used anything as common as suntan lotion knows. What is frequently overlooked is the skin's ability to absorb drugs applied as salves or ointments.

10. The conical hats of religious penitents, medieval witches, and the Ku Klux Klan.

Over the Tyrrhenian Sea

The next day

Maria slept most of the brief flight. In fact, she had slept most of the previous day once they had checked into a small hotel. Jason supposed it was a means of avoiding thinking about what had happened and what had nearly happened.

Jason had used the time the day before to make a call from a pay phone to an unsecured number in Sardinia. Without his BlackBerry, getting a secure message to D.C. presented a problem, since all calls worldwide were subjected to monitoring, not just the few that raised the political ire of the civil libertarians in the United States. The redeeming feature, of course, was that no entity or country possessed the assets to actually translate and evaluate any but communications between persons of interest. The truly unnerving fact was the question of the security of the system. Who might be monitoring the monitors? Despite the howls of politicians who knew the truth anyway, privacy had become no more than unexamined information, or, in the current euphemism, data at rest.

Even so, if someone was sophisticated enough to hack into ECHELON, they certainly could set key words to flag any specific communication. He longed for the days when a pay phone guaranteed anonymity.

Jason finally decided on an innocuous telegram he could only hope would be correctly interpreted.

MAMA STOP BAD BOYS BROKE BLACKBERRY AND LOST TRAVEL SUPPLIES FOR SELF AND WIFE STOP WILL WAIT REPLACEMENT TELEGRAPH/POSTAL OFFICE CALABRIA STOP JASON

Fairly transparent, but it was unlikely the other side would ever guess something as primitive as a transoceanic telegraph would be used. Additionally, since the nearly ancient Atlantic cable carried the few messages that still were exchanged in this manner, no one had bothered to develop the technology to monitor such messages. Satellites could not intercept messages on landlines.

Like most European countries, Italy's telephone and telegraph functions were operated by the postal service. Jason left the post office, checked on Maria (still asleep), had lunch, and took in the few sights Calabria had to offer, then spent the one-o'clock-to-four-o'clock siesta sipping espresso and reading a two-day-old International Herald Tribune at an outdoor table at a small trattoria.