King walked over to the boulders and climbed them to the top.
South of the breakwater, spread out before him, was a small village. Several of the structures were wattle and daub, but a few were comprised of earth-colored stone. At a quick glance, King put the population at fewer than a thousand people. He saw several wooden boats with brilliant white sails tied to a long wooden pier. On the southern fringe of the town were dozens — possibly hundreds — of camels, tied to wooden posts, and in one case, walking aimlessly in a wooden corral.
King walked back down the boulder to where Alexander was still looking at the stones. He was acutely aware of the grenade, still in his pocket. The AK-47 strapped to his back and the Sig Sauer handgun tucked into the waistband of his jeans. Even his garments and his wristwatch. Everything about him marked him as what he was.
A man out of time.
“That’s the mighty kingdom of Carthage?” King asked in disbelief.
Alexander stood upright and smiled. “First, Jack, remember what I said about taking modern history at face value. Second, you’re getting your years mixed up. Carthage, or Karkhēdōn, as the Greeks will come to call it, has existed as a city at this point only for a few years. Carthaginian hegemony doesn’t begin for another hundred and fifty years or so, when they strike out for the island of Ibiza. But trade is going like crazy right now, and it will help us in our mission.”
“And that mission is?” King asked.
“Hmm,” Alexander mumbled as he continued looking at stones.
“What is this mission you’ve shanghaied me for? I think it’s time you told me.”
Alexander looked up at King. “I’m sorry, Jack. You’re right. I’m just getting ahead of myself. We need to get to Rome. We are going to save my wife, Acca Larentia, from her untimely demise at the hands of my Forgotten.”
King was stunned. The man really was motivated by love. “You told me she had stumbled onto one of your labs, when you weren’t there.” King recalled the man’s admission when they had fought side by side under the ruins of Rome’s Lacus Curtius.
“Yes, she did. To my eternal regret. So we have come back in time to prevent that from happening.”
“How?” King asked. “Don’t we risk screwing up all of history if we change something in the past?”
“There are several theories about the issue of paradoxes, Jack. I believe only one of them: that whatever we do here in the past, has always happened this way. Whatever we do will not change history. It already is history.”
“But if we rescue Acca, won’t the younger version of you know? You told me you found her after the Forgotten had attacked her. They drank her blood, you said.”
“Yes. She was curious, and she had found the lab, and the Forgotten were behind bars. They hadn’t eaten in weeks. She held a cup of water out to them…” Alexander drifted off, lost in the memory.
“I’m sorry,” King said. “But how can we save her then without changing the past?”
Alexander’s head snapped up, a cheerful look replacing the distant look of loss. “I always have a plan, Jack.” He glanced down at the stone at his feet. “Ah! Here it is.”
He stepped back off the stone he was standing on, and King could see a very faint, and very rough letter H. This one did not have the typical circle around it. Alexander reached down and picked up the stone, setting it carefully aside. Then he pulled the three surrounding stones aside; each was slightly larger than twice the size of a basketball. He reached into the hole he had created in the top of the breakwater and pulled out a small wooden chest, six inches long by four inches wide and probably three inches deep — maybe less depending on the lid’s thickness. The outside of the box was ornately decorated with thin gold foil, and the hinges were hidden on the inside. Alexander handed the box to King.
It was surprisingly light.
What the hell is in this? King wondered.
He held the box in his hands and turned it over, looking at the ornate gold design, and trying to determine where it opened. Then he wondered if it was some kind of puzzle box, like in the Hellraiser films. “What is it?”
“What you hold in your hands, Jack, is the infamous Chest of Adoon.” Alexander beamed.
“The who of what?”
“Remember what I told you about history being manipulated by some and changed by others. That chest was a simple box of mine. It contains something very valuable. I was drunk one night in Palermo. This must have been around 100 BC, I guess. I was mouthing off, and I said some things about this chest and what it contains. But over the years, the rumors got a little out of hand.” Alexander took the box and depressed a hidden button on its backside. The lid popped open with a hiss as trapped air escaped.
“Airtight?” King asked. “How’d you manage that in this day and age?”
Alexander smiled. “I had my ways.” He opened the lid and showed King the contents of the box. A small handful of rubies and several dried herbs no longer than an inch in length. In a separate compartment inside the wooden box, were more herbs, finely chopped.
“You went to all that trouble to hide your pot?”
Alexander laughed. He pulled out one of the longer herbs and held it up for King. “This plant is a genetic sibling of Silphium. Have you heard of it?”
King shook his head.
“It was widely known for its medicinal properties. Cyrene even printed it on their coinage. The plant is extinct in your time. This one, though, was even more powerful than Silphium. This one, Jack, can grant immortality. This is essentially what led to the Hydra. This herb, will help Acca to live. And the rubies will get us to Rome.”
“So what were the rumors that got out of control?”
Alexander laughed. “It’s funny, you know. The contents of the box grant eternal life, but the rumor that got started was that the chest contained a powerful weapon of destruction and death. There are faint references to it throughout history, but even into your time, the rumors persisted. By the 21st century, the rumor about the Chest of Adoon, as it came to be known, was that it contained something with godlike destructive powers — like the Ark of the Covenant in that Indiana Jones film.” Alexander scooped out the rubies and dropped them in his pants pocket. Then he delicately placed the four long herbs into a plastic sandwich baggie that he pulled out of his shirt pocket. He took out another baggie and held it open, pouring the smaller herbs into it.
“What’s that one?” King asked.
“Green tea from China. You have no idea how hard it is to get in this part of the world, at this time.”
King tried not to smile. He didn’t want to. But it happened anyway. “Hold on, if your theory of time is correct, the irony is off.”
“How so?” Alexander raised an eyebrow.
“In the 21st century, the box won’t contain the herbs anymore, because you will have removed them. It will just contain air.”
“Exactly. I only thought of that when I was dealing with Ridley.”
King became serious. “What are you talking about? Ridley was—”
“My prisoner,” Alexander said. “Held just a few rooms down from the lounge where we talked.”
“You what?” King shouted, clutching his fists.“If he gets loose, Asya and my parents are still back there.”
“He won’t get loose, don’t worry about that. Your family will be fine. Besides, shortly before we went through the portal, the rest of your team arrived.”