Chapter 4 #2
Nick’s head dipped. “Yeah. It could all go south in an instant. A Carrington Event that takes out the electrical grid, for example. It’s estimated that it would take twenty years to get the grid back up and running and, in the meantime, humankind would go feral.
Or even a limited nuclear war. Or a new virus a hundred times worse than COVID.
Or AI becomes Skynet. Lots of different ways to go. ”
“That’s right. So, here’s the thing. Civilization has already been destroyed once—the fall of the Roman Empire.
It wasn’t fast, it was slow, but for those who had eyes to see, it was inevitable.
The Roman Republic was very stable—politically and economically.
It was self-sufficient in food and was defended by a citizen army.
Then Rome expanded and became an Empire, with a professional army.
But from the Julians—Caesar and his descendants—on, as the Empire was established and started growing, Rome became restless, corrupt.
The classes solidified and there was very little movement between them, whereas during the Republic many peasants ascended to what we would call the middle class.
That almost stopped completely during the Empire.
The bureaucracy became corrupt, inefficient.
General health deteriorated. There are estimates that the average life expectancy during the Republic was about fifty-two, which dropped to forty-five during the Empire.
And fell to about thirty-five during the Dark Ages. I hope I’m not boring you.”
He covered her hand again and the warmth spread from her hand up her arm. “I am the furthest thing from bored, trust me.”
He looked serious as he said it. Okay. Better than okay, actually.
Parker was used to male interest, but it was rarely in what she had to say.
She was used to men getting a glazed look in their eyes when she talked about classical history.
They would fake interest for a few minutes, their entire attention span, then change the subject.
But not Nick. His pale blue eyes were fixed on her, and he was unmistakably engaged in what she was saying.
“From the time of Claudius onward, the fall of Rome was inevitable, it just took another three hundred years. But in the meantime, if you could see the signs, you knew the end was coming. The empire was so large it was almost impossible to manage, and the barbarians along the border were becoming more and more aggressive. It was clear the center couldn’t hold.
I’ve combed the literature of the time, and of course nothing could be said in any official documents.
Rome was eternal and you would be punished if you said anything to the contrary.
But I’ve read a lot of private correspondence that tells me the idea of the Fall of Rome was in the air.
So, increasingly, members of the dwindling middle class and of the aristocracy would buy estates far from Rome, often in the warm and fertile lands of the south of Italy and establish a bolt hole in case Rome fell.
Often, they would move their entire household, which sometimes comprised hundreds of people.
There was a very quiet scramble to get out of Rome, far from its reach, as a survival mechanism.
The earliest preppers if you will. It’s estimated fifty thousand aristocrats fled Rome during Caligula’s reign alone.
They could feel the craziness in the air.
The working title of my book is Apocalypse Then. ”
Nick’s eyes widened. “That’s—that’s pure genius,” he breathed. “And fascinating. You must write it, and I want the first signed copy. Hot off the press.”
“Done.” She smiled.
“Signori.”
They both looked up in surprise. The tuxedoed waiter again. “Would you like to look at the menu?”
He laid on the table two big, printed menus, in script font, with only a few dishes per course, a sure sign of a good restaurant.
He’d interrupted them, but Parker didn’t mind.
All of a sudden, she had a huge appetite.
It wasn’t just skipping lunch. She often skipped meals.
No, her appetite somehow was tied to the giant man sitting next to her, paying careful attention to what she said.
She felt open. And warm. What you felt during sex, or so she’d read.
Wide open, full of heat. They weren’t in bed, so the restaurant equivalent of sex was a roaring appetite, anticipating pleasure.
Parker opened a menu, sliding the other one over to Nick. He slid it right back to her.
“You order for me. Things you’d like to eat as well, and we’ll share. That okay with you?”
She smiled. “More than okay. Everything looks great and it’s going to be hard to choose.”
“Order everything you’d like to taste,” Nick commanded.
“Whoa. That could be a lot of food. Do you eat fish?” Parker looked up from the fish-heavy menu.
“I eat everything except goat. I’ve eaten nothing but goat for the past couple of years and I’m sick of it.”
She ran her eye down the menu. “Not a mention of goat. You’re going to have a goat-free meal, guaranteed.”
He sat back, grinning. “Then I’m good. Order a bunch of stuff. I want to sample everything.”
Oh. He basically wanted a sampler menu, but the restaurant didn’t offer one. She’d have to order full plates. “You’ll get a bill,” she warned.
Nick shrugged, smiling. “Not a problem.”
“Okay.” She looked up at the waiter and they proceeded to order a dinner with the seriousness and meticulousness of peace negotiations between warring nations. It took a while, but at the end, Parker was sure they’d have a taste of everything worth tasting.
The waiter bowed his head in respect and glided off.
“I think we’ll be stuffed at the end of the meal.” She’d ordered enough to feed a platoon.
“But we’ll probably be happy,” he offered.
“Oh yeah.”
He brought her hand to his lips. “I’m already happy and haven’t eaten a bite.”
His mouth was warm against her skin. He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, so fleeting she wasn’t even sure it was there.
She nearly sighed, which maybe was gauche.
But really—it was almost outrageously romantic.
The beautiful evening, the elegant restaurant, the huge man courting her with soft words and gentle gestures.
Not displaying any signs of jerkitude. He was interested in her and showed it every way there was but then she was interested in him, too.
Neither was pretending anything, which was fabulous. Just a healthy man and a healthy woman constantly finding things they liked about each other.
“Your Italian is excellent,” he said, letting go of her hand. Her hand felt cold and alone, and she hoped he would hold it again soon. And then felt stupid. They’d need both hands to eat.
“Well, I’ve been living in Italy for four years and I work a lot with Italian archeologists. And I’ve been studying Latin since I was twelve years old. Italian is the only language directly descended from Latin without other influences.”
“I’ll bet you anything Aunt Caroline’s Italian isn’t good. Even after two years.”
She smiled wryly, thinking of Aunt Caroline’s incredibly mangled Italian. “No, it isn’t. When she needs help, I lend a hand. Particularly outside the Consulate.”
Nick topped up her glass. “Do you know any other languages?”
Parker picked up her glass by the stem, twirling it.
“Well…I’m a classicist, so ancient Greek and some modern Greek I picked up during summer seminars in Thessaloniki.
My French isn’t bad, and I have enough Spanish to survive in a Spanish-speaking country.
And I speak a little Klingon, from my nerd days in boarding school. You?”
“Ukrainian and Russian. And I have enough Pashto to say, ‘Put the gun down, motherfucker’ and ‘On your knees, hands behind your head.’” He smiled. “You’ll pardon my French.”
“Pardoned. I’ve learned quite a few strong phrases in Neapolitan dialect for when I’m in traffic.
More or less the same, um, semantic field.
” Outrageously filthy expressions that would probably get her knifed if spoken to the driver, but which kept her sane when muttered in her car with the windows up.
“Signori.” Their elegant waiter appeared, pushing a trolley that smelled like heaven, if heaven were Naples.
They both straightened in their chairs as he unloaded a plate of pasta with clams, a plate of seafood risotto and a third plate of creamy pasta with provola cheese and potatoes which he placed in the middle.
Then a thousand small plates of hors d’oeuvres—fried octopus, stuffed eggplant, tiny pizzas, steamed mussels with garlic, fried mozzarella.
Normally, all this food would have filled Parker with dismay.
She had never had much of an appetite, and too much food on display made her nauseous.
But not this time. Nope. Everything looked and smelled delicious, and her stomach just yawned wide open.
She hadn’t really eaten today, but it felt as if she hadn’t ever eaten.
As if she had just discovered food after years of fasting.
The linguine alle vongole was divine. Parker nearly moaned as she put a forkful in her mouth.
Nick did moan. “Oh man. You’ve got to try this. It’s amazing.” He held a forkful of his risotto in front of her lips. What could she do but open her mouth and let in luscious creaminess that tasted of the sea?
“It is amazing. Here, try this.” She wrapped her linguine around her fork and held it up to his mouth.
Oh God. The pasta was messy but he somehow managed to eat it neatly, looking straight at her.
That firm mouth closed over her fork, and it was all too easy to imagine that mouth kissing her.
And it would be as good as the pasta, she was sure.