Chapter 22
Two days later, authorities still hadn’t confirmed the cause of the Colosseum’s collapse. It wasn’t a bomb—that much was clear—but
uncertainty lingered over whether the giant sinkhole in the center of the wreckage had been caused by an earthquake or the
ongoing metro construction below. Whispers of faulty engineering and geological instability swirled through the media. Some
suspected corruption or negligence, but no one could quite explain how it had all gone so terribly wrong.
Eighty lives were lost—janitorial staff, security personnel, and a few unlucky tourists who had been caught in the surrounding
area. Rome vowed to rebuild, but the cost would be astronomical, and no one knew where the funds would come from.
Aida spent her “vacation” that Disa had prescribed watching the television with a grim obsession. She couldn’t shake the feeling
that this was no accident. The gods, after all, didn’t have to throw bombs or cast lightning bolts to cause destruction. They
just needed to push the right pieces into place and let human error take care of the rest.
The only thing that kept her grounded was the imminent arrival of both Yumi and Luciano. She dreaded their questions, knowing
she’d have none of the answers they’d want to hear.
On the day of Yumi’s flight to Rome, Aida shuffled down to the kitchen for breakfast. Ilario and Pippa were uncharacteristically
standing at the bar, looking at a newspaper.
“Is there more news?” Aida asked as she hauled herself up into the bar seat.
Ilario lifted his eyes from the paper. “Buongiorno. Different news. That virus, the one in China, it’s growing,” he said.
“You mean spreading?” Aida teased.
“Bloody right,” Pippa said, pushing the paper away. “Spreadin’. The Chinese government’s locked down that city, Wuhan, right?
Shut it all down, lockin’ people inside. No one’s goin’ anywhere. They’re pullin’ sick people out from their families, quarantinin’
’em. They reckon thousands might’ve died already.”
“It’s worse than that,” Ilario said. “The virus is in Rome. People have been hospitalized. è terrible.”
Aida gasped as Disa’s words came hurtling back to her. All it takes is one small invisible thing. That’s the beauty of it, really. You never see it coming.
“Oh my god,” she breathed as the gravity of the situation hit her. It wasn’t the Colosseum that was the catastrophe. It was
a virus, a small invisible thing.
“Aye, it’s ’orrible,” Pippa said. “But what can we do? We charge ahead. Now let me whip up that cappuccino for ya.” She swept
the paper off the counter and focused on the espresso machine.
Ilario brought a chocolate cornetto pastry and a bowl of cut-up fruit. “Signorina, tutto okay?”
Aida took a breath. “No. Il Colosseo, the news about the virus. What’s happening?”
Ilario looked off toward the east and curled his hand into horns with his fingers. “Tiè!” he exclaimed, shaking his fist. Take that! “Now you.”
Aida felt awkward making the sign to ward off evil, but she did it to appease the chef, even practicing the right way to say
the word: tee-ay. If only a simple hand gesture could save the world.
That afternoon, Aida greeted Yumi at the airport, relieved to see a familiar face. “We’ve got this,” Yumi assured her as they hugged, but Aida knew her friend was just putting on a brave face.
Yumi, fresh from the upheaval of her layoff, threw herself into the task of finding Pandora with a renewed vigor. The next
few days were a blur of code, maps, and endless cups of coffee as she tirelessly scoured digital landscapes for any trace
of the elusive IP address or any information she could find about MODA.
Reports of the virus’s spread grew more alarming by the day. Flights from China were no longer allowed into the country, significantly
reducing the number of tourists in the city. Italy had confirmed more cases, and the sense of anxiety in the city was palpable.
The growing concern over the virus tempered the usual bustle of the city. At coffee bars and in shops, conversations were
dominated by the latest updates and speculations, especially about the growing number of cases up north, in Lombardy. But
when the government shuttered theaters, cinemas, and gyms across the country for at least a week, worry really began to set
in.
It was amid this backdrop of uncertainty that Luciano arrived in Rome a week after Yumi. “Bellissimo!” he exclaimed that night when Yumi opened the door and ushered him into the apartment. “I like your style,” he told her as
he admired the colorful decor.
Aida had to laugh. Yumi had complained about the place since the first trip back in December—it was all style over substance.
It looked great, but the plumbing was wonky, there was limited counter space, and the furniture was, for the most part, pretty
uncomfortable. But it had a prime location, a particular charm, and Felix had somehow wrangled a discount from his friend
for the new extended stay.
“So this is the mighty Luciano!” Felix said, coming forward to greet the Collector.
“I’m not sure how mighty I am.” He laughed.
“How long are you here for?” Felix asked.
Luciano handed over his coat to Yumi. “Not quite two weeks. Till the fifteenth. Then they are sending me to a little town outside of Paris, Tonnerre, to catalog the happiness at some Renaissance-era chateaus.”
“I’d agree with mighty,” Aida said as Luciano folded her into his arms and kissed her cheeks. They held on to each other a
beat too long, eliciting snickers from Yumi and Felix.
“Where does MODA think you are now?” Aida asked Luciano when they pulled apart. With Yumi in town, it was common for Aida
to spend time at her apartment, so while she masked what the gods might hear, she didn’t try to obfuscate her location.
“In for the night, watching TV in my uncle’s apartment—well, I suppose it’s my new apartment. Although I’m glad to be here
with you instead of watching the news. Have you heard the latest?”
Felix grunted. “I have. Which is why I brought this.” He lifted up a grocery bag that was sitting on a nearby chair. The group
followed him into the kitchen, where he pulled out a bottle of gin, some limes, and tonic. Several pizza boxes sat on the
counter waiting.
“What was the news?” Yumi asked as she started to cut up the pizzas and dole them out in pieces, American style.
“It’s bad,” Luciano warned. “They’re closing all schools and universities in Italy until at least the middle of March.”
“Damn it,” Aida cursed. “This is Disa’s doing, I know it. The prophecy about the Colosseum is coming true.”
“Rome hasn’t fallen yet,” Yumi said.
Felix began shaking the drinks. He made an attempt to sound upbeat. “There have been lots of viruses and diseases in our lifetime,
and it’s always been okay. I mean, Ebola, mad cow. They’ll figure it out.”
“I fear you may be too optimistic. They can’t contain it in China, and I don’t think Italy is doing much better,” Luciano
said. “Do you ever recall this sort of quarantine?”
After her conversation with Pippa last week, Aida had immediately looked up everything she could about the virus and came across the videos of the Chinese quarantine.
One still haunted her, of half a dozen men in white hazmat suits forcibly removing a family from their apartment to take into quarantine.
Since then, she had been glued to Reddit news feeds on the growing crisis.
Felix set a gin and tonic in front of Aida, and she had to stop herself from downing it in one gulp. “Didn’t you have an opera
date canceled when they closed the theaters?” she asked him.
He winked at her. “We still had the date. We just skipped the theater.”
“Of course. I should have guessed.” Aida’s laughter was cut short by her watch buzzing. She glanced at it to see a text from
Trista.
“Merda,” Luciano cursed at the same time. He was scrolling through his phone. “My aide says our quarterly MODA meeting has been
canceled.”
Aida dug her phone out of her pocket to see that Trista’s message was the same. “But the meeting isn’t until the end of the
month. Have they ever canceled meetings before?”
“Not while I’ve worked for them.”
“It’s definitely not a good sign.” Aida sighed. “I wish Sophie would give us more news.”
“Have you tried reaching her?” Felix asked.
“Yes, every day. There’s only silence. I don’t know what they really expect us to do at this point. We can’t find Pandora,
and we’re just measly humans. How can we do anything? Especially in the face of something like a virus?”
Felix lifted his glass. “We change the subject to something happier, that’s what we do. Let’s live in the present. Let me
propose a toast. To friends!”
The lively banter continued as they shared slices of pizza. Aida tried to focus on the comforting aroma of warm dough and
cheese, the bite of the gin, and the good company of her friends. But it wasn’t easy to live in the present when such a deep
unease about the future lingered.
As the evening wore on, Aida found herself glancing at Luciano, the unspoken connection between them growing stronger with each passing moment. Eventually, the group decided to call it a night, and Luciano offered to walk Aida partway back to the palazzo.
The streets of Rome were eerily quiet as they strolled under the soft glow of the streetlights. Luciano immediately took her
hand, and Aida wished it weren’t so cold that they needed gloves.
“I like your friends,” he told her. “Felix mi fa morire dal ridere.”
Aida laughed. “Yes, he makes me die of laughter all the time too. And he’s absolutely brilliant. He knows more about history
than anyone I’ve met. I’m not sure how he remembers everything.”
“And Yumi, what a good friend she is to you.”
It was an observation that warmed Aida’s heart. “She is. We’ve known each other a long time.”
“That’s why she’s so invested.” Luciano squeezed her hand. “If I had just lost my job, I’d be panicking and spending every
last second trying to find another one.”
“She’s always been able to land on her feet,” Aida said. “She’s very good at what she does. The fact that she hasn’t found
Pandora yet says more about their godlike capabilities than it does about her. But she loves a good puzzle. She won’t quit
till she’s figured it out.”
He paused then and pulled her close. “Neither will I.” He leaned forward, his lips a warm contrast to the crisp air that touched
her cheeks. Aida let herself be lost in the moment, savoring the tingle that rose within her when their tongues met, when
his hands pulled her close. Around them, Rome stood still, its historic stones a silent witness.
Aida laughed when they finally pulled apart. “We really should stop doing this in dark alleys.”
“At least we don’t have teenagers heckling us this time,” he said. “But you’re right. We should have some sort of proper date.”
That seemed highly improbable—the mere fact that they were walking together in public was a danger in itself.
Aida smiled, masking the stab of disappointment at the thought.
How could they ever have any semblance of proper anything as long as MODA employed them?
She leaned forward and kissed him again, with more urgency, channeling her worries into the passion between them.
Who knew what would happen in their future?
Aida would do everything she could to enjoy her now.
“Dio mio,” Luciano whispered. “Maybe we should just skip the proper date.”
“Sì, but not tonight,” Aida said. “Later this week? But now I should go. If Trista is tracking me, she’s probably wondering why
I stopped a few blocks away for so long.”
Luciano nodded and gave her a quick kiss on the nose. “A presto.” See you soon. He backed away, then, with a wave, turned back the way he came.