Welcome To Quantum Holidays

CHAPTER 12 (PART III): AB ABSURDUM

The sun beamed into the Coliseum and there was no shade to hide in. The stands were only half full but there was a sense of anticipation and excitement amongst the spectators as they waited for the chariot race to begin.

The guests were all grouped together near the front of the west stand fanning themselves in the intolerable heat with some palms. The handlers were strategically seated around them to keep them separate from the local spectators. Ulrich had also joined them to watch the day’s games. Jack was sat at the end of the row. The pale stone he sat upon burned the palm of his hands and the back of his legs. He looked down into the arena.

The chariots waited in their gates for the race to begin. The riders felt the tension of their horses through the reins that were wrapped around their waists. They gripped them tight in their fists to try and calm the stallions.

The Spina divided the arena in two creating the oval track for the chariots to race around. It was decorated in marble with the Gods of Rome swimming with playful dolphins. At each end of the Spina was a Meta, a large gilded column were many a rider and horse had met their maker.

Looking about the Coliseum, Jack recognized people from all walks of life in Ancient Rome. In the south stand, sat in a special box at the front were the six disciples of the Temple of Vesta, the Vestal Virgins. They sat stoically in their chairs dressed in their ceremonial robes. They wore white veils that covered most of their face but Jack was sure he could make out the face of the young woman he had seen at the Temple the day before.

Across the Coliseum in the north stand, sat in his special box was the Emperor Domitian. He rose to greet his people. He was a tall man with a pot belly and thin legs. He was dressed in a long purple toga with a stripe of white running along the sleeve. The sun reflected where he was going bald at the temple.

The names of each rider were announced to the crowd. As they were introduced, Ulrich provided some commentary for the group. He explained that there were four teams in Rome at the moment. They were the Red, the Blue, the White and the Green, which was owned by the Emperor. Each faction had two chariots in the race. Think of it like Formula One racing, Ulrich suggested. He warned the guests that the Romans were fiercely loyal to their factions and that races were often tempestuous affairs that, in the words of Ulrich, made football riots look like tea parties. When Ulrich had finished speaking, the name of the Emperor’s final driver was read out.

“Gaius Appuleius Diocles!”

His name provoked an intense mix of emotions from the crowd. Half the crowd cheered at the tops of their voices whilst the other half booed and spat towards the rider. One of the guests asked Ulrich who the man was.

"The great Diocles! Why, he is one of the all-time greatest chariot racers, and currently at the height of his powers. He will go on to win 1,462 races and earn over 36 million sesterces over the course of his career."

“Is that a lot of money?” asked one of the guests.

“Well, that’s equivalent to 15 billion US dollars. So you could say Gaius Appuleius Diocles is the highest paid sports star in history.”

“Then why are people booing?”

"They are booing because, after the last races, Diocles left the Blue team and signed for the Green team owned by the Emperor.”

Jack looked down at the controversial chariot driver. His armor and chariot were laced with golden embroidery that made him stand out amongst the others. He waved to the crowd at his newfound supporters and acted as if the thousands heckling him were not there.

Behind him, Jack overheard two Romans bartering passionately over something and he saw some silver coins pass between them. In fact, looking around he noticed many similar exchanges going on. The other guests began to notice too and a wry smile appeared on Lambert’s face.

“Would anyone like to place a bet?” offered the Scotsman.

“How do you work out the odds?” questioned Jack.

“We offer the same odds as the locals.”

“But surely you already know who will win?”

“Yes we do, but we don’t let that affect the odds we offer.”

“So, are there any takers?”

A couple of men dug out their bags of coins and, despite their wives’ remonstrations, had a flutter on the chariot racing. One man defended himself.

“It’s always more interesting if you have some money riding on it.”

His wife was not amused and turned to speak to one of the other women.

"You would think it would be interesting enough that we had traveled back in time to watch chariot racing in Ancient Rome."

After the bets were placed, Domitian stepped forward. He held up a white cloth and as he did the Coliseum fell quiet in anticipation. He dropped the cloth, the chariots burst out of the gates and the crowd erupted.

As the riders approached the first Meta, it was impossible to distinguish between the chariots as the swarm of horses came round the corner, and as the drivers tried to turn round the bend, the reins entangled both human and horse.

Coming out of the Meta, only five chariots remained. The fallen drivers lagged behind as they were dragged by the waist around the track by the crazed horses. They managed to cut themselves free of the reins using a small knife that they kept sheathed in their boots.

The initial collision had been favorable to the Blue team as they still had both their drivers while the other teams were left with only one each. They went to task to make the most of this advantage and focused in on the remaining White driver.

Coming into the second Meta, the White chariot had lost his position on the inside track to Diocles and drifted towards the arena wall. As he struggled to rein his horses back, the Blue team crowded him with their chariots and blocked him from coming away from the wall. They pressed him further and the horses became panicked and the chariot wheel ran perilously close to the stone wall. As they approached the Meta again and the wall began to curve, one of the Blue drivers clattered recklessly into the White driver. The wheel smashed into the wall and the chariot collapsed. The Blue chariot pulled away as the fallen driver was dragged and scraped along the large stones of the Coliseum.

Ahead of the Blue faction, Diocles and the Red driver were competing for pole position. Pushing each other on, they managed to stave off the rampant Blue faction who were trying to make up the ground they had lost whilst picking off the White driver. It was not until the fourth lap that they managed to catch up with the race leaders.

The Blue faction horses snapped at the heels of the surviving drivers and upon hearing the pounding hoofs behind them they urged their own horses on in desperation to avoid being targeted next.

As they approached another Meta, Diocles stole a march on the Red driver and pulled out across the front of the pack taking the corner acutely. As Diocles tried to straighten out coming out of the bend, his chariot skipped up on to one wheel and almost toppled over. The whole crowd watched with baited breath as the driver performed the miraculous balancing act, his body nearly horizontal to the track. But Diocles wasn’t the richest sports star of all time for nothing, and although his chariot swerved from left and then right, he used his reins expertly to bring the chariot back on to its two wheels.

Meanwhile, the Red driver was busy trying to cut himself free of his reins after he had tried to imitate Diocles’ maneuver and ended up crashing straight into the gilded column of the Meta. The Blue faction narrowly missed being caught by the shipwrecked driver as debris flew in all directions.

Some factions of the crowd began to hurl lead amulets at Diocles, who had to be sharp to avoid being hit by the nails that the spectators had attached. Opposing factions reacted angrily to these spectators and fistfights broke out amongst the crowd. Near Jack, one elderly man took offense to a group of youngsters who were throwing the cursed amulets and clattered one over the head. The Handlers stood up and formed a tight perimeter around the guests.

“What’s happening?” asked Jack.

Lambert attempted to calm the guests.

“It’s okay. This is quite normal behavior for a crowd at a chariot race. They won’t bother you unless you bother them.”

Back on the track and with two laps to go, the chariots of the Blue faction had caught up with Diocles and were weaving in and out of his chariot, toying with him. They hounded and bullied him and forced him around the track. The crowd sensed the end and the Blue faction taunted Diocles. The Blue riders began to squeeze Diocles like wood in a vice. Above the crowd, Jack could hear the frame of the chariot creak under the pressure. But just as it seemed Diocles’ chariot would break, they came to the bend and the Blue riders had to disengage.

After the bend, they came at him again but he had enough, and this time he fought back. Diocles drove his chariot into the opponent to his right and then swung it sharply the other way into the second driver. Amazingly, the two chariots had acted as buffers to Diocles so whilst they went crashing into the Coliseum wall and the Meta, Diocles leveled out and strolled to an easy victory to the amazement of the stunned crowd.

As he crossed the finish line, the crowd went wild with rapturous applause and, caught up in the spectacle, Jack found himself cheering along. The applause was so loud that it drowned out Mrs. Wang. It was only as the crowd died down that anybody heard her screaming.

The group looked on at the wailing wife standing over her quiet husband on the floor. He was laid out unconscious on the stone step. Jack turned to Lambert and saw the panic on his face.

Guardado pushed through the spectators and knelt down over Mr. Wang and checked his vital signs. This seemed to jolt Lambert, who quickly followed Guardado to where Mr. Wang lay. The other Handlers gathered round. One of the women tried to calm down the hysterical Mrs. Wang.

“He’s still breathing. We need to get him back to the facility,” said Guardado.

Lambert seemed less sure. He looked at the audience that had gathered.

“Are you sure that’s completely necessary?”

Guardado snapped at Lambert.

"God damn it, Gregory, he needs to go back right now!"

Lambert was left silent by Guardado’s outburst and he mumbled something and then shook his head in agreement. Guardado took the limp Taiwanese man up in his arms and lifted him over his shoulder. He carried him down the steps of the Coliseum. Lambert and the other handlers followed escorting Mrs. Wang.

The other guests watched on mutely. Ulrich tried to allay their fears but his Bavarian charm deserted him. He could only mumble incoherently something about staying calm and not to worry, whilst he was distracted by the Handlers rushing the Wangs out of the Coliseum. Jack looked around at the other spectators. They had mostly seemed to have ignored what happened. Only a few stole curious glances, but when Jack met their eyes they quickly looked away.

Eventually, Lambert re-emerged from the tunnel with most of the Handlers in tow. They retook their places in the stand. Lambert stood amongst the group. They all turned to him, waiting for him to speak. It was several moments before he managed to find the words he was looking for.

“It’s okay everyone, there’s nothing to be worried about.”

“Is he dead?” asked one guest.

“No!”

Lambert had not meant to have snapped at the guest and he realized his mistake instantly. He took a deep breath and spoke in a friendlier, more relaxed tone.

“No, he’s not dead. It’s just a case of extreme heat exhaustion.”

“Where have you taken him?”

“We’re taking Mr. Wang back to the facility where he will be looked after properly.”

“Trust me, it’s okay. Let’s just try and enjoy the rest of today’s games.”

The guests sat in solemn silence. Meanwhile, a small army of slaves entered the arena and hastily deconstructed the Spina and took it away. Once everything had been cleared the gladiatorial combat was announced. The crowd became animated and some of those in the group joined in as they tried to forget what had happened to Mr. Wang.

A man clad in decorated silver armor stepped into the Coliseum. He was met by universal applause. He raised his sword in appreciation to the crowd as he marched to the Emperor's box and bowed. Ulrich resumed his commentary.

“That is Cassius.”

From the opposite side of the arena, a cage was opened. A tall, bald man with a long bushy beard was pushed out and the cage was shut. He wore no armor, just a loincloth to cover his modesty. The crowd hissed and booed at the man.

“The other man is Thorax, a feared tribal leader from Gaul. For years he and his men have been a thorn in the side of the Roman army. He was captured during a skirmish last winter and brought back here to fight in the Coliseum for the entertainment of the Roman citizens.”

The guests were in awe of Thorax. He was a giant, superhuman in stature. One of the guests suggested that the tribal leader would surely win but Ulrich corrected him.

“If it was a fair fight, then yes I would agree. But Thorax has been imprisoned for months and has been beaten, tortured and starved. He is weak and defeated. Look at him, see how he moves.”

The giant from Gaul seemed to struggle in the heat and his steps were labored and uncoordinated. But Jack looked closer, and whilst Thorax looked weakened, he sensed a furious determination in the man.

The Roman champion made his way leisurely towards the giant. He spun his sword flamboyantly for the crowd as he neared. Thorax was thrown a spear and a small shield from the stand. He took them up ravenously.

Cassius stopped before Thorax. He did not make an attack but he continued to bait Thorax with his blade. Cassius’ blade clattered harmlessly off his shield but it provoked him and it made him angry. Thorax lunged forward with his spear but as he did Cassius stepped to the side and with his sword sliced the spear in two. Thorax threw the useless remaining stick away and held up his shield to protect himself.

Cassius went on the offensive and swung at Thorax with his sword. The barbarian struggled to block the attacks with his battered shield. The blows began to take their toll as Thorax fell down to one knee as he absorbed the impact of a fresh attack. The crowd sensed the bloodshed and cheered excitedly.

But Cassius had grown wild and reckless with his thrusts and had neglected his own defense. As Thorax parried yet another attack, he lunged forward with the shield and caught Cassius with a vicious blow to the side of the face. The champion gladiator was sent tumbling backward.

The side of his golden mask had been dented. Dazed, Cassius wrestled to remove the mask. He looked at the damage the barbarian had done to his precious face cast and threw it away angrily.

Cassius picked up his sword and thrust it towards the oncoming Thorax. But the gladiator was no match for the strength of the barbarian who batted away the sword with his shield and in the next moment, Thorax was on top of him. Cassius held his arms out and pleaded with him but it was hopeless. The giant from Gaul took his shield up in both hands and smashed it down onto the chest of Cassius.

The crowd fell quiet as Thorax battered the gladiator until the armored plate caved in completely. Thorax dragged Cassius up by his disfigured armor. The gladiator wheezed sickeningly as he fought to breathe. As Thorax took Cassius before the Emperor, Jack overheard the couple sat in front of him.

“Oh, honey, I hope he doesn’t die. It’s inhumane, how can this sort of thing be legal?”

“Babe, it’s a different time and place. We have to respect their customs.”

The Emperor slowly raised his hand. The crowd hushed. Domitian surveyed the crowd, savoring the attention being lavished upon him. He looked down on the bald gladiator. He pointed his thumb up. The crowd cheered.

“Oh, thank God! I thought they were going to kill him.”

“Babe, I don’t think that means what you think it means.”

“Huh?”

The bald gladiator did as the Emperor commanded. He raised his sword high and brought it down with all his might. The blonde gladiator’s head fell from his body and bobbled forward in the sand.