"Ah!" Flaccus nodded. It made a lot of sense to use such a contact. "So, what does Gaius Caesar want?"
"The pax Romana," Gaius shrugged.
"Of course he does," Flaccus snorted. "That's why there're legions everywhere. To make sure peace is enforced. Surely he has some interest, though, something that history will remember him for?"
"I'm not sure. ."
"Listen boy, you're in my territory so stop pissing me off!"
"The only thing I've heard," Gaius replied cautiously, "is religion."
"Religion?" Flaccus scowled. "He's not going to be a priest?"
"No," Gaius said in a careful tone. He had to say something, but that something could well be reported to Rome. "From what I understand, and you realize that I haven't heard this directly and. ."
"I'm not going to quote you!" Flaccus snarled. "I want to know how the land lies."
"Well, as I understand it," Gaius continued, "Gaius Caesar does not believe in Gods."
"He's hardly alone in that," Flaccus snorted.
"Exactly," Gaius continued, "but I think he wants everybody else to share his views."
"That makes sense," Flaccus nodded. "If even half the wealth that goes into temples and priests went to the imperial coffers, Caesar would have all the money he needs to embark on whatever scheme he has in mind."
"That would seem to be so," Gaius agreed. He was stunned. Although this had not occurred to him, put like that it was obvious. Caesar was short of money, and throughout the Roman Empire, huge fortunes were being sunk into temples, priests, and their various estates. Now if there were no God, this money was simply a waste of productive capacity. Much better to capture it and put it to better use, although whether games and other spectacles to make the population love Caesar was a better use was questionable. Not that he should do any questioning.
"So Caesar wants gold from the temples, does he?" Flaccus mused. He suddenly stopped, noticed Gaius, and snorted, "That's enough. You can go now."
As Gaius left, a further thought occurred to him. Flaccus had immediately understood a devious means of extracting money. Trust a scumbag to instantly recognize scum! The question was, where did that leave him?
Chapter 25
Gaius had commissioned the making of a bigger copy of the steam turbine. Timothy had found a master craftsman who could make the object, or so he said, and when Gaius had turned up the craftsman had asked for a thousand sesterces. Much to the craftsman's surprise, Gaius had agreed without haggling.
"Mind you," Gaius added, "since I'm sure you didn't expect to get that price, I'll add in an extra. Do a good job and I'll commission something else. Botch it up, and I'll have a thousand sesterces worth of your hide. You understand?"
"You'll get it," the craftsman said. He understood the threat, but equally a thousand sesterces was far more than he had hoped for and he was a good craftsman.
Gaius left Timothy to sort out details, to haggle over sizes, and to refuse any opportunity for subsequent excuses. There was so much to do, so many things that could go wrong with this machine. He was so deep in thought that he gave little attention to where he was going, and he shortly found himself walking back to his villa on a path that took him through the Jewish quarter. Because of their bewildering rules about when they could do what and their persistent claims that the rest of the population were unclean heathens, the Jews were unpopular, nevertheless passing through their area was one of the safer routes home. Their religion forbade theft, and it forbade killing strangers. However, the Jews were not passive victims; their laws were equally strong about others preying on them, and since any non-Jew passing through this area was readily identifiable, thieves tended to give this region a miss. Gaius was only too fully aware that his presence was noted, but since he had passed many times and had done no harm, his presence was tolerated.
Accordingly he was surprised as he approached a small temple to hear a loud ruckus. When he turned the corner he saw a mob dragging some effigy towards the temple. The Jews were yelling and screaming in some strange tongue.
"Desecrator!" someone yelled, and Gaius turned to see the accuser pointing at him. The man threw a piece of fruit at him. His aim was poor. Rather than hitting Gaius, he struck an elderly Jewish man standing behind him who was wearing a strange hat.
Gaius turned to help the older man, who had fallen backwards. To his surprise, the crowd stood quite still, as if the striking of the older man was unforgivable. As he helped the man to his feet, and returned his hat to him, Gaius was struck by the silence around him. The elderly man turned on the thrower and hurled verbal abuse; the man stood still, ashamed. Gaius slowly began to realize that everybody was ignoring him.
"Look," Gaius said as he finally managed to get the older man to look in his direction, "I have no idea what is going on, but. ."
"Quite simply," the older man said, "that mob is desecrating our temple."
"Then get some soldiers!"
"Why?" the man asked impassively.
"Because they are there to keep the peace and uphold the law."
"You know who organizes these mobs?" the older man asked impassively.
"Who?"
"Flaccus!"
"I don't believe you!"
"You are young," the older man nodded, "and you don't know." He turned and addressed the Jews again in this strange tongue. "Nobody will harm you," the older man said, "but I would still stay away. Romans are not welcome."
"But why are you so sure that. ."
"Romans conquer, Romans despoil," the older man said simply.
"That's simply not true," Gaius said. The noise increased, and Gaius turned to see that the mob had now broken the doors of the temple, and were beginning to force their way in. "I'll get help," he assured the older man, then he turned and ran towards the nearest military outpost.
* * *
"And who the hell do you think you are?" the Centurion asked, in the tone of someone who would beat the hell out of this upstart if he did not have a good reason for being there.
"Claudius," Gaius replied haughtily then he added, "I am in Alexandria under the orders of the Princeps Tiberius, confirmed by Gaius Caesar."
"I see," the Centurion backed down. He stared balefully at the young man. This situation had the potential to ruin him. This young man wanted something done and whatever happened next could easily get back to Little Boots, who, according to rumours, did not wish to be bothered. Everybody had to do the right thing as defined by Little Boots, and what was right could vary almost randomly. These little senatorial shits never suffered, though. It was the likes of him whose career would be ruined.
"There are mobs rampaging through the Jewish quarter," Gaius said.
"I know," the Centurion said in a flat tone. There was an embarrassed pause, then the Centurion said, "Flaccus does not require military intervention."
"What?" Gaius gasped. The old Jew had been right?
"The Prefect believes that the Greeks wish to show their loyalty to Caesar. The Prefect's view is that the Jewish religion is simply wrong," the Centurion continued with a shrug, "so he is placing other images in the temples. If the Jews won't worship these images, then they'll see that. ."
"That's ridiculous," Gaius objected. "Even if they're wrong, that's hardly likely to convince them."
"Perhaps," the Centurion said, "but I have my orders. My men stay in barracks."
"I see," Gaius nodded. Then, to the Centurion's surprise, this young man thanked him, then he left without requesting anything.
From Gaius' perspective, this was terrible, and what was worse, what he had said to Flaccus might be the cause. As realized by the great Augustus, the Roman Empire worked because everybody within its borders benefited. If Gaius Caesar did not intend to uphold this policy, then the very fabric of the Empire could fall apart, in which case, Rome itself could very well fall. The prophecy!