Welcome To Quantum Holidays

CHAPTER 12 (PART II): AB ABSURDUM

Later that evening, Jack came down for dinner and was shown into a room called the triclinium. The room was long and elegantly decorated. Three large dining tables had been positioned in the center of the room and around each of those were a further three loungers. The dim room was carefully lit by thin candles that sat upon the tables.

The guests broke off into their couples and sat down on the loungers. Jack waited for the others to find a seat and then found a lounger for himself. The servants appeared and began to fill glasses of wine for everyone. Jack took a sip of his. It had been watered down but he found the taste agreeable.

The paler guests among the diners had caught the sun earlier that day and Hemsworth’s exposed crown was a particularly vibrant red. Lambert was seated near the head of the tables, but the space next to him remained unoccupied. With everyone settled, he rose to his feet and tapped a glass in his hand with a spoon to gain their attention. The room fell quiet.

“Good evening, ladies and gentleman. Allow me to introduce you to your host for this evening, Cato Drusus.”

Lambert stepped to one side and out of the shadows emerged a large rounded man. He approached the guests with arms wide open like he would greet a long lost dear friend. He spoke with a German accent in a jovial manner.

“Good evening, everybody. As Mr. Lambert has said, my name is Cato Drusus. But please call me Ulrich. I am a small landowner here in Rome and as well as this villa I also own a small farmhouse and vineyard out in the countryside.”

The guests looked upon Ulrich in amazement, shocked to see the Roman aristocrat speak with such a thick German accent. He was a big man, irrevocably bloated by too many gluttonous feasts, and looking at him, Jack was reminded of a piggy bank his father had given him as a boy. Ulrich seemed to enjoy the attention and he chuckled before he spoke.

“As you have probably guessed, I am not a native of this city or even this time. I, like Mr. Lambert, am an employee of Quantum Holidays. And tonight, you are all guests of honor in my villa, and I hope you will enjoy the meal my servants have prepared for you.”

After he had finished speaking, he took the seat next to Lambert. The servants appeared again and began to lay cutlery on the tables. They laid out two spoons; one large and one small. The smaller one was unfamiliar to him and it had a peculiar needle thin grip. As he inspected the odd utensil, one of the handlers stepped forward and addressed Jack.

“The small one is kind of like a fork. Use it as a prong for the snails.”

Jack nodded and thanked the Handler. He began to practice using the spoon and then stopped confused. He turned to the Handler.

“Wait, what snails?”

As he spoke, the servants began to serve the guests plates full of steamed snails. Jack shuddered at the sight of the mollusks before him. Looking around the table, he saw a mixed reaction to the appetizer. Some pulled disgusted faces whilst others licked their lips. Noticing the trepidation in the triclinium, Ulrich stepped in.

“Trust me guys, the taste is fantastic! Watch, I will show you how best to eat it.”

Ulrich took one shell and held it between two chubby fingers. Using the prong-like spoon which he referred to as the cochlear, he scooped out the contents of the shell and placed it in his mouth. He chewed on the meat and as he did, he gestured to the guests to do as he had done. Jack looked from the feeding German to his plate. He took up the shell in his hand and tentatively scooped out the insides of the shell. He closed his eyes and ate the snail. He chewed on it begrudgingly. It tasted rubbery, but Jack was surprised to find he quite enjoyed it. He ate a second and soon most of the guests had become ardent converts to the dish. Once everyone had eaten their escargot, the servants came and cleaned away the plates and topped up the wine glasses.

The guests were now more relaxed and a few group discussions started between the tables. After a small interval, the servants came back carrying a large silver tray with a huge roasted pig sat open it. Ulrich rose to his feet in excitement.

“Ah, the main course has arrived! This is the Procus Troianus, the Trojan Pig.”

Two more cooked hogs were brought out and placed on the other two tables. As the guests leaned in to take a better look at the main course, Ulrich described the dish.

“The pig was stuffed with fruits and sausages and then roasted. I must admit, this is my favorites. It’s very succulent, very tasty.”

As the servants cut open the pig, sausages spilled out of the stomach like intestines. But once Jack moved past the rather unsavory mental image he found the meal to be quite delicious. In fact, the Trojan Pig was hugely popular. Only the Wangs appeared not to enjoy the cuisine. They sat uncomfortably and upright on their lounger and only picked at their food occasionally as if trying to create the impression that they were eating to the others by mimicking their actions.

As they ate their Trojan Pig, Ulrich regaled the group with some of the amazing events he had witnessed whilst traveling through the annals of Ancient Rome. He recalled vividly how he had stood in the Senate on the Ides of March and watched on in horror as Julius Caesar was betrayed by Brutus. How the formerly noble senators descended into a pack of wild dogs as they butchered Caesar with their knives.

“There have never been so many Judases gathered in one place before or since.”

He spoke fondly of the master orator, Cicero, whom he had been fortunate enough to spend much time with in his early years. And there was much sadness in his voice when he described how in the aftermath of Caesar's assassination, Cicero was made a scapegoat of by Mark Antony and Octavian. He said the last time he had seen his wise teacher was with his head on a spike on the Rostra in the Forum.

“He truly was the greatest of all Romans.”

He talked of the Emperor Nero, and how he watched on helplessly as he changed from a popular, intelligent and generous leader into a mad and cruel despot. He told the group how one evening he had only narrowly escaped being murdered at the hands of Nero’s private guard when he was mistaken for a wanted dissident.

“It’s terrifying to see that man is capable of losing himself so much in such a short space of time.”

As Ulrich spoke, the servants continued to serve the watered down wine to the guests and by the time he had finished his tale, the group was quite full of alcohol and pig. The leftovers were cleared away and selections of grapes were served. As the guests began to pick at the fruit, Lambert announced that Ulrich would be happy to take any questions that they might have for him. Hands shot up around the tables like kids in a classroom. Pleased with the enthusiasm, Ulrich began to point at guests to permit them to speak. The questions came thick and fast but Ulrich had an answer ready for all of them.

“How did you end up working for Quantum Holidays?”

“It was quite straightforward actually. I used to be a lecturer at the Goethe University of Frankfurt where I taught on the fall of the Roman Republic. Quantum Holidays needed someone who was an expert on Ancient Rome who would be able to embed themselves into Roman society without causing suspicion. And that guy was me.”

“Don’t people get suspicious when they hear your German accent?”

"Ah, of course, if I spoke with my German accent then the locals would be very suspicious. They would probably take me for some Gallic barbarian perhaps."

Ulrich broke off his speech and a wry smile crossed his face. When he started to talk again he spoke in a beautiful fluent Latin accent.

“But, of course when I am in the company of the locals I speak in this accent. It is quite convincing, no?”

It was very convincing and very impressive. The diners gave a small round of applause and after which the questions continued.

“Have you ever seen any battles?”

“Alas, I have not. If only I were brave enough to ride into battle with the Roman Legions. But their enemies are ferocious fighters; from the Carthaginians in Africa to the barbarians of Gaul. Trust me, you wouldn’t want to run into them on your own in a dark alley.”

"Who is the evilest Emperor you have seen?"

“I’m not sure if the word evil is useful in defining emperors. They say that power corrupts and this has never been truer than with the Emperor of Rome. These are men that are raised to believe that they are better than all others. They are men who in their own lifetime are deified as Gods and whose wealth is limited only by their imagination. No one can truly know what that sort of power does to a man until they have experienced it for themselves.”

Eventually, the number of raised arms dwindled and Jack, who had been quiet up until then, asked seriously and pointedly.

“Don’t you ever miss home?”

Ulrich seemed to be caught a little off balance by the directness of the question, but he covered it with an easy smile.

“Good question, sir.”

Ulrich fell into silence and the group all leaned in and looked down the tables towards him waiting for his response. Eventually, the German held up his chubby hand as if to say he was ready to speak.

“Of course, there are days when I miss some of the luxuries of the modern world. I miss not being able to watch my beloved Frankfurt play football. I miss not being able to watch old episodes of Monty Python. I miss not being able to listen to the Rolling Stones.”

This made the group laugh and when they are stopped Ulrich continued.

“But I still prefer to be here. Here I get to explore a whole new world. I’ve seen everything that the modern world has to offer. It holds no surprise or wonder for me anymore. But here, every day is a new adventure.”

Ulrich leaned back on his lounger, satisfied with his own answer and the guest seemed impressed by what he had said, but Jack was not, and he pressed again.

“But you don’t belong here. I mean, it’s not natural. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Shouldn’t I?”

Jack was bemused by the question and replied slightly irritably.

“Well, no. You are from the present day, not Ancient Rome.”

Ulrich came forward again and focused all his attention on Jack.

“Okay, let me try to explain it you this way. Where were you born?”

“Chicago.”

"Okay, and where do you live now?"

“New York.”

"So you were born in Chicago but you live in New York. And there's nothing wrong with that. That is okay. You were born in one place but that does not mean you have to live there all your life. Now, who's to say that just because we are born at one point of time it means that we cannot grow up and live in another point of time altogether?"

Ulrich's question had a revelatory effect on the guests. On each face, it could be seen that the person was asking themselves a question they had never thought to before. With his audience captivated, Ulrich preceded.

“They say that home is where the heart is. Well, what if I say to you my heart is here in Ancient Rome. I spent most of my adult life dedicated to studying the later day Roman Republic and now I am lucky enough to live here. I am much happier here than I ever was in Frankfurt. This is my home now.”