Prognosis: Forever

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Duchy of Aragoni

Marco

THE DAY OF THE wedding was almost upon us, and the Duchy of Aragoni was bustling with activity in preparation for the festivities. Members of Father’s far-flung family were arriving from all over the world, and there were literally no rooms at the inn—any inn. All of the vacant suites in the castle complex were occupied, as were the spare bedrooms of most residents, and there were ‘siamo al completo’ (we are fully booked) signs in front of every hotel and bed-and-breakfast facility in the city and surrounding countryside. The wedding was to take place on Sunday, and a series of celebratory performances were to be held in the new Concert Hall at the university.

The University of Aragoni was home to one of the most respected music schools in Europe, and the new Concert Hall (actually a complex of three venues of different sizes) had been completed the previous year. The principal hall was also home to the largest pipe organ in Europe, and my father had funded an additional set of trompettes en chamade, or horizontal trumpets, to be installed in honor of his bride. They were officially named the Serafina Trumpets after the name which appeared on her birth certificate.

Angelina had been raised as an orphan, and Father’s operatives had, after a lengthy investigation, discovered that Angelina’s mother had changed her birth name after she’d fled the village where she was living with her husband—literally in the middle of the night, taking her infant daughter with her. Angelina and her mother had simply disappeared that night, and nobody, including her husband, knew where she’d gone. Her mother had been killed in an accident when Angelina was about three years old. Her body had recently been exhumed, and radiocarbon dating of the bones had proven her age to have been approximately two hundred at the time of her death. This had been our first real proof that Angelina’s female ancestors were, like the male members of our family, long lived.

ON THE TUESDAY morning before the wedding, Sal, our assigned security man and bodyguard, drove us to the airport to meet the Aragoni Group’s US-based Gulfstream, which was carrying several members of the family to Aragoni along with Dr. Thomas Foster and his partner Noah Webster. Tom had performed the dedicatory recital on the new pipe organ the previous year, and Noah, who was a bass/baritone, had presented a vocal recital in the smaller hall. Father had been so taken by their performances that he had engaged them to provide the music for the wedding, and both men were scheduled to perform in concerts as well. Tom and Noah had become friends of ours and were staying with us. As usual, the jet taxied up to the hangar, was towed into it, and the hangar doors were closed before anyone disembarked. Several people, whom I didn’t recognize but to most of whom I was probably related, exited the plane before the familiar faces of Tom and Noah appeared in the doorway. When they reached the spot where we were standing, we exchanged hugs.

“Gosh, it’s so good to see you guys again,” I said.

“Likewise,” Tom said.

“Yeah,” Noah said, “and Tom is really looking forward to playing that organ again.”

With Sal’s help, we got the SUV loaded with our guests’ bags and headed back to town and the castle complex.

“What’s first on your agenda, Tom?” I said.

“A visit to the baths and a massage, if you please.”

“What a surprise,” Dani said. “We remember how much you guys enjoyed the baths when you were here before.”

“Yeah,” Tom said, “where else can you go and find baths patterned after the baths in ancient Rome?”

“We found it amazing,” Noah said, “and we’ve told a lot of people about them.”

“I hope you told them that there were two baths,” I said, “one for tourists, and another smaller facility for family and guests.”

“We did.”

“Good,” I said. “Did you ever install a Jacuzzi on your deck? You talked about it.”

“You bet we did,” Noah said, “and we’re really enjoying it.”

“I’ve got a copy of the official schedule for you, Tom,” I said, “and a list of the times when you’ll have access to the organs at the concert hall and at the cathedral. A lot of the concert hall times seem to be very late in the evening.”

“That was by request,” Tom said. “Remember, I’m doing the concert for free in exchange for a specified amount of access to the organ and the hall for recording sessions. There are fewer scheduling conflicts late in the evening and less chance of being interrupted.”

“The world premiere recording of the organ that Tom made last year has sold really well,” Noah said. “We’ve had to order more copies from the company that manufactures the CDs.”

“I’ve been on your website,” I said, “and there are a lot of CDs listed on it.”

“Yeah,” Tom said, “it took a while for sales to take off, but it’s become a steady source of revenue for us.”

Sal pulled into the parking garage, dropped us off at the elevators, and a few minutes later we were upstairs in our apartment. “You’re in the same bedroom you were in last year, guys,” Dani said. “Do you want to unpack before we go down to the baths?”

“Just give us a couple of minutes to change into fresh clothes,” Tom said, “and we’ll be ready to go.”

When Tom and Noah emerged from their bedroom, I handed each of them a plastic keycard. “Here you go,” I said. “You remember how things work—you’ll need this to get in and out of the building, among other things.”

“Thank you,” Tom said.

We went down to the baths and spent some time in the calidarium; then while our guests took advantage of the massage services, we moved to the tepidarium for a while. We timed things so that when we went to the showers we met Tom and Noah there.

“Feel better?” I said.

“You know we do,” Tom said. “A hot soak and a massage should be offered after every transatlantic flight.”

“Yeah,” Noah said. “By the way, is it just me or are the baths a lot more crowded than they were last time we were here?”

“They’re more crowded,” I said. “Both the castle and the city are full of guests from all over the world, and many of them are distant cousins.” Actually, given that I was the son of il Duca and many of the visitors were his sons and grandsons many times removed, the relationship was somewhat different.

“No kidding?” Noah said.

“No kidding. This wedding is a big deal, and it’s given a lot of people an excuse to have the sort of family gathering that only happens once every generation or so. Dani and I have been to at least half a dozen fancy dinners in the past ten days, and I’ve totally lost count of how many relatives I’ve met for the first time.”

“You’re just upset because you have to attend those Council meetings,” Dani said.

“Babe,” I said, “I’ll trade places with you in a heartbeat.”

“He doesn’t like meetings,” Dani said.

“Correction,” I said, “I don’t like interminable meetings, during which things are discussed ad nauseam and decisions are seldom made.”

“Then why don’t you do something about it?” Dani said.

“Like what?”

“Geez, I don’t know. Wait a minute, doesn’t the US Senate have some sort of rule they can use to end debate?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s called ‘cloture’,” I said. “I’m gonna have a talk with Father about that.”

“Way to go, Marco,” Dani said. “Kick ass and bring ’em into the twenty-first century.”

“Are you guys hungry?” I said.

“Hardly,” Tom said. “We were served a huge breakfast just before we crossed the coastline of Europe.”

“I’ll second that,” Noah said.

“The concert hall is available until three o’clock if you want to go over there now,” I said.

“You bet,” Tom said. “I can’t wait to get my hands on that new trumpet stop.”

“By three, we’ll probably be ready for lunch,” Noah said.

“What are we waiting for?” Dani said.

“You don’t have to go with us,” Tom said, “if you have other things to do. I remember how to get there.”

“That’s okay,” I said. “We’ll go with you, wait until you’re settled, then go shopping or something. Also, I need to call someone over there to have them meet us in the hall—they’ve assigned a different student to you this time and I have a contact number for him.”

“What happened to the old one?” Noah said.

“He’s doing some graduate work in the States,” Tom said. “I get an occasional e-mail from him, don’t you remember?”

“Yeah, now that you mention it.”

I made the call, then we headed to the elevators. Once we were out of the building and waiting for the tram, we had a conversation about lunch. “Any favorite places that you recall from your last visit?” I said.

“Not really,” Noah said, “they were all great.”

“Yeah, and our favorite spot, which as you know is Poco, will be jammed because it’s in the heart of the old quarter/tourist area.”

“What about that little Greek restaurant that Andreas and Nick took us to last month?” Dani said. “It’s definitely not in the main tourist area.”

“Yeah, and as I recall, you guys like Greek food.”

“If it’s anything like the dinner that Nick cooked for us last time we were here,” Tom said, “it’ll be just fine.”

“That’s settled, then,” I said. “Papa’s it is.”

“Papa’s?” Noah said.

“The full name of the restaurant is Miklos Papageorgiou,” Dani said, “but people find the name almost unpronounceable, so it’s referred to as Papa’s.”

“Here comes the tram,” I said.

Both cars of the tram were full—standing room only. Fortunately it was a short ride to the university, and we were soon at the concert hall stop. When we walked up to the hall, Tom’s helper was waiting for us at the side door and greeted him effusively. The guy was an organ major who’d attended last year’s concert and was more than a little bit in awe of Tom’s talent. He led us into the hall and turned on the lights.

“I still can’t get over how much this concert hall resembles a Gothic cathedral,” Noah said.

“I think that was the intent of its designers,” I said. “Here in the Duchy, most building materials, especially lumber, have to be imported. On the other hand we have an unlimited supply of native stone in the surrounding mountains, and the quarries have been active for some two thousand years.”

“The guy who helped me last year,” Tom said, “told me that the well-known acoustics of stone buildings were a major influence, as well.”

Indeed, the building resembled a Gothic cathedral externally and, for that matter, from the inside as well, the only difference being that the east end of the structure contained a stage rather than a choir area and ambulatory. Most of the organ pipes were highly visible as they were mounted in ornate cases attached to the east end of the building. I turned to look at the gallery organ, whose case surrounded and framed the windows high on the west wall.

“I guess that’s the new trumpet stop,” I said, pointing at an artfully arranged bank of shiny gold pipes protruding from the gallery organ.

“Yes, Sir,” the student said. “The Serafina Trumpets operate on an extremely high wind pressure, and they are really loud. Would you like to hear them?”

“Sure,” I said.

He climbed on the bench, pushed a few buttons, pressed a single key on one of the manuals, and a deep brassy sound filled the hall. Before that sound had stopped reverberating in the room, he played a short fanfare.

“Oh, my God,” Dani said, “I think my goose bumps had goose bumps of their own from that.”

The student slid off the bench, Tom took his place, and they began to discuss the stops Tom had selected for each piece he was to play. “I think that’s our cue to go,” I said.

“We’ll see you at three,” Noah said. “On the other hand, if you come back around two thirty, Tom might be ready to give you a run-through of the piece he composed for the dedication of the trumpets.”

“Then we’ll see you at two thirty,” I said.

We left the concert hall and took the tram to the central train station. Then we spent an hour or so wandering around the old shopping district and quickly found that the street that was set aside for pedestrians was literally wall-to-wall people.

“Gonna be a lot of happy merchants when the festivities are over,” Dani said while we sat at an outdoor café table and had a glass of wine along with a small plate of fruits and cheese.

“No kidding. I guess that means our tenants won’t have a problem paying their rent this month.”

“Fool. They’ve never had a problem, and you know it. Investing in that building was a smart move on your part.”

“I seem to recall hearing a certain amount of skepticism from you at the time.”

“I just hadn’t thought it through, that’s all,” he said.

After I’d inherited the title of il Conte di Conti a few years earlier, it was discovered that one of the Conti Group’s managers had been stealing from the business for years and had bribed the auditors in the process. We had sued the auditing firm and won a huge settlement, most of which had been reinvested in the business. I had withdrawn some of the surplus for my personal use and had set up a holding company that had purchased a couple of commercial buildings. The rental income was being invested in other properties.

“By the time we’re ready to retire, we’ll have more than enough rental income to live pretty much as we like,” I said.

“Babe, we could do that now,” he said.

“Don’t forget we have three sons to raise. At some point, they’re gonna need to be sent off to a good boarding school.”

“Yeah, and we haven’t really talked about that.”

“True,” I said, “and the best schools have waiting lists.”

“You could probably get them into your old school as, what’s the term—‘legacy’ students?”

“I was kind of thinking about Eton,” I said, “but it might not be a bad idea for them to go to school in the States, and if they’re going to do that, Groton is one of the best.”

“In either case, they’d be fluent in English by the time they’ve finished.”

“Speaking of which,” I said, “we need to start using English at home with them, at least part of the time.”

“Yeah, and I think Lucia is kind of eager to polish her English skills as well.”

“The more languages they grow up speaking, the better off they’ll be,” I said.

“By the way, are we still gonna enroll in the next Etruscan language course?”

“You bet.”

As far as the rest of the world knew, nobody had spoken Etruscan for more than two millennia, and the last man known to have been able to read the language was the Emperor Claudius. Father had grown up speaking Etruscan because several members of his family were scholars, and it was now regarded as the ‘secret’ language of the family. Had I been raised in Aragoni, I would have grown up speaking the language—the fact that I had been born and raised in the States had prevented that from happening.

“Ready to go back to il Castello and check out a car?” I said.

“Sure. I just hope they’re not all taken.”

“Not to worry—I made a reservation.”

“When did you do that?” he said.

“The minute I was handed Tom’s rehearsal schedule.”

“That’s my boy—thinking ahead.”

We walked back to the train station and caught the next tram headed home. When we got to the castle complex, we went into the parking garage, picked up the car, and drove back to the concert hall and parked. Inside the hall, we found Tom deep in conversation with the organ student.

“You guys are just in time,” Noah said as we walked up to the console. “Tom’s about a minute or two away from doing a complete run-through of his Toccata and Fugue for Dueling Trumpets.”

“In that case,” I said, “we’ll settle down in the front row.”

Dani and I left the stage, went to the front row, and picked a pair of seats which gave us a clear view of Tom’s hands and feet. To say that we were blown away during the next fifteen minutes would be an understatement. The toccata section of the piece was a bit subdued at first, and even my untrained ear could tell that Tom was using it to demonstrate what I had learned were nearly all of the reed stops in the organ. The toccata came to a glorious climax, and there was a brief pause. After the pause, a single trumpet stop in the main organ was used to play a short theme. That theme was echoed by a really loud trumpet stop from the gallery organ at the rear of the hall, after which the duel began in earnest with each section of the organ seemingly vying to outdo the other with variations on the theme. Of course the new Serafina Trumpets won by simply overpowering the competition. When the last remnant of sound died, Dani and I applauded enthusiastically.

“Bravo, Tom,” I said when we were again on the stage, standing beside the console.

“That was totally awesome,” Dani said.

“I think we’re ready for lunch,” Noah said, “just as soon as I gather up all of this music.”

“I’ve invited Gianni to join us,” Tom said. “I trust that was okay.”

Gianni was the organ major who had been assigned to Tom. He was also organist at St. Mary’s Anglican Cathedral in Aragoni.

“Certainly,” I said. “Gianni, I hope you like Greek food because we’re going to Papa’s.”

“I love Greek food, Signor Conte,” Gianni said, “and I’m well acquainted with Papa’s.”

“We’re ready when you guys are,” I said.

“Give us a minute to unplug the console and roll it out of the way,” Gianni said. “The symphony will be using the hall for the next two hours.”

We watched, fascinated, as Tom helped Gianni drape a quilted cover over the console and bench, both of which were mounted on a low, rolling platform. The cover had obviously been made to order because it fit like a glove. Then Gianni knelt down, carefully unplugged some cables, and he and Tom rolled the console off stage and into a compartment built into the side wall. Gianni closed the double doors to the compartment and locked them.

“All right,” he said, “now she is safe.”

“She?” I said.

“I think of all consoles as she,” he said, “because back home, the organ consoles in both of the churches where I have played can be temperamental bitches.”

Tom chuckled and said, “Having encountered a number of temperamental consoles in the past, I can certainly relate to that.”

“Those cables you unplugged were pretty small,” Dani said, “considering all the signals they must carry.”

His remark caused Gianni to smile politely and Tom to chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” Dani said.

“In the old days before computers,” Tom said, “there would have been a cable as thick as a fire hose running from the wall to the console, which contained a separate wire for each of the many thousands of pipes, along with dozens of wires for controls and other things. It couldn’t be unplugged, and if one of those wires got broken somehow, fixing it was difficult. When microchips came along, the controls became computerized and the signals from the console to the organ travel over a single Ethernet cable.”

“That’s progress,” Gianni said.

Our guests thoroughly enjoyed eating at Papa’s. Tom and Noah discussed the menu and, wanting to try everything, and seemed to be at an impasse until Dani stepped into the discussion. “Tom,” he said, “why don’t you order one combination platter and Noah can order the other one? That way, you’ll have at least five different dishes between you and you can share them.”

“Works for me,” Noah said.

“Yeah,” Tom said, “let’s go for it.”

Over our meal, we learned that Gianni was from Buenos Aires, his grandparents having emigrated from Italy to Argentina just before World War II. “I’d never have guessed it,” I said. “You speak Italian like a native.”

“We lived in a neighborhood that was mostly Italian,” he said, “and it was my cradle language. I didn’t actually learn a lot of Spanish until I started school.”

“There are a number of historic organs in Buenos Aires that bear the name of Cavaillé-Coll, the famous nineteenth-century French organ builder,” Tom said, “have you played any of them?”

“Yeah,” Gianni said, “there are something like twenty of them, although only one is considered to be pure Cavaillé-Coll—the others bear the prefix Mutin, which is the name of the man who headed the company when they were installed. To answer your question, yes, I’ve played two or three of them, most of which were in pretty bad shape due to lack of proper maintenance.”

“Tom has performed at Saint-Sulpice in Paris,” Noah said, “and they have one of the best organs by that builder.”

That comment by Noah sent Tom and Gianni off on a jargon-filled discussion of pipe organs that left the rest of us behind. Noah looked at Dani and me, shrugged, and said, “This happens a lot when we’re on the road.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said, “they’re enjoying themselves.”

“Yeah,” he said.

We finished lunch and drove Gianni back to the University. Before he got out of the car, he and Tom compared schedules and arranged to meet for Tom’s next rehearsal. We arrived in our apartment just in time to help Lucia supervise the triplets’ supper, after which, I said, “You’re on your own, guys. Dani and I are gonna get domestic for a while. Then I’ve got to attend a meeting of the Council, which will kill the rest of my evening.”

“Don’t worry about it, Marco,” Tom said. “We know where everything is.”

“Yeah,” Noah said. “We’ll probably spend some time online catching up with e-mail and things, go back to the baths for a soak, have a couple of glasses of wine, and crash.”