CHAPTER 20

  THE ROMAN UNDERGROUND

  Gianni and I met Uri and Cadmus at a bus station in Rome. It was a reunion of sorts for the three of us, met with hugs all around. They were going to be staying at the house of a friend Uri had in Rome named Angelo. Angelo worked as an actor. He was a single man with no family. He lived with an Italian woman who was a contributor to the theatre company where Angelo worked. They lived in a lavish three-room apartment near the theatre. Uri and Cadmus would share a room, but the apartment was within walking distance of the bus station. Their accommodation was actually nicer than our own.

  The four of us went to eat and discuss the plan at a café that Gianni and I frequented near the university. Cadmus worried, “Rome is a high-profile location for exploration and grave robbers.” I agreed, but unless he had a better plan, it was all we had. We planned to sneak into the underground sewer system under the cover of night and make our way to the area near the Embassy.

  We all agreed that it was the best plan we were going to come up with on such short notice. The Italian government and the Director of Archaeology were closely supervising the excavations at the embassy, ensuring that there would be watchful eyes nearby, where we were planning our project. Our time together was going to be short. We had to act fast.

  We knew that the passageway and the cryptoporticus connected the palaces. We used Gianni’s maps with overlays that combined the map drawn by Bartolo with one he sketched of the embassy, along with the blueprints he had of the sewer and aqueduct system. In the original map drawn by Bartolo, a mausoleum is described. The mausoleum was thought to include the remains of emperors and other dignitaries, including quite possibly the sarcophagus that held both Pusio and Secundilla.

  Gianni’s map lined up with the location of the crypto and where Bartolo theorized the mausoleum was supposed to be. The correlation of the two was so close that we believed we knew where the mausoleum was. The problem was that it was located under the road near the embassy. There was easy access through the sewer systems of Rome to get underground. But getting that close to the embassy would be problematic. The problem was getting that close without getting caught. It was going to be dangerous.

  “Jack,” Cadmus asked, “It is a well-known fact that much of the treasures and sculptures once housed in Sallust’s Gardens were stolen or destroyed over the centuries. What makes you think that the remains of even a Roman flea would be left in the mausoleum?”

  I answered, “Only hope.” I smiled and drank the rest of the wine in my glass. Uri raised his glass as well and smiled at Cadmus. Cadmus added, “You are all fools. I am a fool for letting you bring me with you. I am a well-respected geologist. The last project you two were involved in nearly cost me my entire reputation.”

  I asked him smugly, “So, Cadmus, what then brings you to Rome? Why come all this way – certainly Uri told you what you were coming here for. Certainly, you knew it was not a sure thing, and no real money was involved. What brings you here, knowing that my quest is in no way viable by your standards?” I poured the rest of the wine from the bottle and motioned to the waiter to bring us another.

  Cadmus silently stared at the remaining food on his plate, mulling over my question. A fly landed on the remaining portion of the salted pork. He brushed it away, an annoyance certainly.

  Uri and Gianni both looked at Cadmus for an answer.

  “I guess,” he said. “I guess I want to believe you. I want to believe in what you so deeply believe. I was never a religious man before the war. And after the war, I saw hope. And with hope, I see prospects, prospects of greater truth. Our people, our islands hold that the balance of life is in the hands of greater beings. And, if there is proof of life in even the smallest part of our Greek mythology, then there is truth in greater beings controlling our destiny. Jack, you make me want to believe. There, I have said it.”

  Perhaps it was the wine of that afternoon, but I thought that I could not have said it any better myself. Cadmus had put into words why this quest for me and for him was so important. If we discovered some truth in the legends and stories of the past, we could connect the dots to understand that these stories serve a purpose for our lives - a divine purpose for the world and its inhabitants. It would lead to the proof of the greater good. I hoped, like he did, that we would find proof so that we would no longer have to be guided by blind faith. The truth is that giants were not just fictionalized beings for metaphoric prose. They were beings that once lived and perhaps still live on this earth. And if such beings exist, then for one anthropologist who had been taught only to trust what physical evidence shows, it is easier to accept the existence of a greater divine power. Draw no conclusions from your theories unless physical evidence concretely proves to you that your theory is true.

  “Salute,” I said. All four of us raised our glasses, and we drank. We drank very heavily that afternoon and into the early evening.

  That night in our apartment, Mimi told me she was glad both Cadmus and Uri were here. She said it was also good to see the light in my eyes again. She said she often wondered if the accident would destroy my wanting to pursue any of my dreams. “I fell in love with a young dreamer and didn’t want what happened in Greece to kill that in you,” she said.

  She was also scared that if something went wrong, I would suffer another setback or could even be killed. She was conflicted with being supportive and worried at the same time. “That’s the plight of a woman’s heart, I suppose,” she said.

  That next afternoon, all of us went over the details of the plan one last time. The sewer system plans for the area showed three levels to the sewer and aqueduct. The most modern part was where we would enter. Beneath that was a channel that ran from the first to the third level, which, by our estimation, sections of the ancient Roman wastewater aqueduct. We would then need to find a passageway between the first level and the second level. With the Tiber River close to this section of Rome, the deeper we went, the more likely we would see the water levels increase. This would be a problem between the second and third levels. The construction project at the embassy was having no issues with water levels below ground or in the crypto. But we suspected the mausoleum to be in a lower elevation in the gardens. We had speculated that water could be a problem in the mausoleum. If still in existence, the mausoleum could easily be underwater entirely. Our solution to this problem would be to create a back-flush system for the water, which means we would have to find a place to drain the water out. This was where we relied on Cadmus. He would find a way to move water through the underground passages away from where we needed it.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  We put our plan into effect that night. It was a Sunday, and it would be unlikely that anyone would spot us so late. Through an alley five blocks away from the embassy compound was a manhole leading to the sewer below. Each of us carried a lightweight backpack with supplies. Uri and Gianni would lead the way. Mimi and I would follow behind them, and Cadmus, our anchor, would pick up the rear. We had tethered ourselves to one another using ropes and harnesses in case someone was washed into the water.

  We entered the manhole quite easily. Cadmus put the cover back over us. Mimi marked the walls every ten feet so we could find our way back. The pathways and waterways were complex, and we needed a clear path back in case we became lost.

  The smell underground was not as foul as I had suspected. It was damp and musty but not unbearable. At this point, there was only runoff water from the streets flowing. We switched on our flashlights and were on our way.

  We walked down the corridor about 100 feet and turned to the right at a two-way fork. The corridor we entered was a steep decline into the second level of the sewer system. As we walked down, the smell became worse. Now the earthy smell that seemed fresh to this point became more potent. As the ramp reached a flatter surface, it was clear to us that this level of the system was used solely as a sewer. The water flow was slow, making the smell much worse. We walked knee high in the watery sludge, and the smell was horrid. We tied handkerchiefs around our heads to cover our mouths and noses. It was difficult to breathe. Uri suggested we keep walking so the smell would dissipate. The faster we walked, the less likely we were to smell the rotting water, which was a combination of urine and other unmentionable items.

  Uri and Gianni led us another 200 feet, at which the corridor opened up to a space of thirty feet high. We shined our flashlights around the walls of the space and it was filled with graffiti, both ancient and modern, some of it as recent as the war and some of it centuries old, likely from the Judeo-Christians hiding from Roman persecution. This space led in three directions to: north, east, and south. This section of the passage was supported by classic Roman arches, and the slimy ground we walked on was slicker than the more modern section. This ancient section was lined with travertine marble laid centuries ago.

  Gianni’s map only showed a straight path heading east in the direction we were currently moving and not in either a north or south direction. Uri shone his light down one of the pathways, and it was blocked about twelve feet down. We decided we needed to continue our current path as planned. Cadmus then raised an interesting question. “The water level here is much too high to divert. What if, down this other causeway, I was able to release some of this water? I think I should go down this other one to see if I can find a suitable way to divert the water before we continue. That may help with the smell.”

  “Cadmus,” I said. “We need to stick together.”

  “Jack, this is a good place for us to part, and hopefully I will be able to reduce the water levels as you continue on your course.”

  Uri replied, “And what about when we need to go into the third level and we need the water to be released? Where will you be then?”

  Cadmus answered, “I will only go as far as I can until I reach an area to divert the water. Gianni, what is below us at this level?”

  Gianni, looking at the map, answered, “It is uncertain. We have little knowledge outside the scope of our planned route as to what is below or around us from here. This room was not even detailed on the map to begin with.”

  And with that, Cadmus removed his pickax from his backpack and began banging on the ground level of the room we were in.

  I yelled, “Cadmus, no!” but by his third strike, there was a crack. The water began to slowly recede. The area below us was also hollow.

  “You see,” he said. “If I go down this tunnel another 50 feet and crack the floor open, it will divert the water level away from the area you will be going toward.”

  Gianni snapped back, “Yes, but you have no idea what is below. Perhaps you are diverting the water directly where we are heading. The slope of the hill of the gardens runs down from the point where we started. You could very easily be flooding the area we are heading to!”

  “Alright,” I said. “Cadmus, continue what you will. But once you have an opening big enough to drain the water, you must come join us. I do not want any of us separated for any extended amount of time.”

  He unhooked his harness from the rest of us and continued down the southern tunnel another 50 yards to crack open the ground. Uri wanted to go with him, but Cadmus would hear nothing of it. He wanted Uri to stay with the team.

  In about ten minutes, we could hear the sound of Cadmus’s pickaxe hitting the floor again. He hit it again and again. We could hear him shouting, “I’m through. I’m through, and then a loud whoosh could be heard. Quickly, the water around us receded as much as possible. Ahead of us, as the ground continued to decline, the now ankle-deep water remained still. Cadmus’s efforts were only successful in removing the water around us.

  We walked nearly three hundred yards down the slope of the second-level tunnel when Gianni stopped and looked at the map.

  “If my calculations are correct, we should be above the mausoleum at this point.” We shone our flashlights down the tunnel as far as our light would travel, which was another fifty feet. The stagnant water at this point was not moving anywhere.

  “Before we strike the ground, we need to go on further and see if we can divert the water away from this area,” I said.

  Cadmus, rejoining us, answered, “I will go ahead and divert the water. Gianni, why don’t you come with me with your map?”

  Uri, Mimi, and I stayed and used as much of the sediment on the floor of the tunnel to fill sacks and try to clear a space six by six feet where we would crack open the ground of the tunnel floor.

  Cadmus and Gianni traveled further down the tunnel to a point where the water was nearly chest-deep. They were to the point that if they went any further, they would have to swim.

  Cadmus said, “Let me see the map.”

  Gianni responded, “What are you expecting to see?”

  “Something. Anything,” he said.

  To avoid getting the map wet, the two men went to the sidewall of the tunnel to hold it up. As they approached the side, Cadmus’s flashlight revealed a doorway that had been sealed over. He looked at Gianni and then looked at the map.

  “I have no idea what that doorway would lead to. We are nearly thirty feet underground at this point,” Gianni said.

  Cadmus answered, “Well, I am about to find out.” He took his pickaxe in his hand and raised it to strike the wall.

  Gianni shouted, “No. What if behind this wall is a wall of water that will come rushing in? Maybe the doorway was sealed off to prevent the water from the river from rushing in.”

  Cadmus shone his flashlight on the opposite wall, and there was no doorway there. “Okay, then. I will strike that wall there.”

  He walked across the tunnel in chest-high water and struck the wall with a loud thug.

  “Damn it!” Cadmus said as he dropped his pickaxe in the water and grabbed his hand.

  “What is it?” Gianni asked.

  “This is no use. This wall seems to be made of solid rock. This is no mere wall to crack open.” He then reached down into the dark water with his hands to find his ax. As he fell under the water, he discovered the floor was cemented with large rocks and would be next to impossible to pick through with the height of the water.

  He found and grabbed his pickaxe, and as quickly as the water would allow, walked back to the sealed doorway. Before Gianni could say a word, Cadmus raised his ax and smashed into the sealed doorway. His pickaxe took out a sizeable dent in the wall.

  “It looks to be a compound of plaster; it’s not tufa like the rest of the wall. This is going to be quick and painless.” Cadmus said.

  On his second hit, he took out an even bigger piece, only this time, the compound was moist underneath. Gianni aimed his flashlight at the strike, and both men could see the moisture spreading on the spot. They said nothing in the twenty seconds it took for the spot to create a drip, and finally, the weak compound mixture crumbled, and water began to shoot out of a growing hole until most of the sealed doorway crumbled and water came rushing in. The water came in with such force that the two men were swept off their feet and down the tunnel. Both men struggled to stay afloat as the water pushed them down the waterway. The water, which was once still and murky, became a rushing river in the underground tunnel, flooding the tunnel.