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“Sigh,” I said. “Fine.”

“That’s what I thought. Now get up. They’ve given us some food so we’d better eat while we have the chance.”

“Are you kidding me?” I asked, getting comfortable with my feather pillow again. “Wake me up for lunch. I just fell asleep.”

“Jacob. As far as we can tell, it’s well passed midday. You’ve been asleep almost twelve hours. We all have.”

I opened my left eye this time and rolled it to look at her. “Damn, time flies when you’re having fun.”

“I bet” she said, offering me a hand. “Now get up.”

“I take it back. You’re worse than mom ever was.”

“Just get up,” she said, playful irritation in her voice.

Groaning, I took her hand, and hauled myself up under my own power, fully aware of her injuries. On my feet, I noticed her Roman style clothing slip down one of her shoulders scandalously.

She smiled as she fixed the slip and I couldn’t help but give her a whimsical look.

This was going to be a long life in ancient Rome.

Sighing, I pulled her close, and wrapped her arm over my shoulder, helping her limp out of the room.

We made our way to the main room to find the rest of the team seated on the floor eating bread, cheese, fruit, a bird of some kind, and a gloopy oatmeal type food. Helping Helena to the floor, she and I quickly began devouring what we could. We were famished, and I tore into the random foul like a ravaged lion. The rest of the team quietly ate their food at a more reserved rate, having already had their first course. It seemed Vincent was already finished, and I watched him take a few sips of his wine. He glanced at the cup approvingly and nodded.

In ancient Rome, fresh water was a scarcity, so most of the time wine was used as a perfectly acceptable substitute. Its alcohol content was extremely high, which worked well to fight off bacteria. Romans watered it down as much as possible, but ancient wine was still far more potent than the variety found in the 21st century. The wine also tended to be extremely dry, as opposed to sweet or fruity, making it a very acquired taste. I happened to like it, as apparently did Vincent, but I’m sure it will take the rest awhile to get used to, especially Bordeaux. I can’t imagine any Frenchman liking excessively dry wine.

Washing my food down with my own glass, I too gave the wine an approving nod. I noticed Helena wince after she tried it.

“Don’t like it?”

She placed a hand on her throat, as though she were parched. “It’s so dry, I can barely swallow it.”

“Get used to it. It’s all they got.”

“Great.”

Vincent put his glass down and cleared his throat. “Last night, Hunter and I had the chance to speak to none other than Caligula himself. I’m not sure what you people know about him, but we were happily surprised. At some point early in his reign, he becomes rather insane, a result of a horrible fever or so some think. Thankfully, we got here before that happened. Instead of murdering us outright, he agreed to let us live. He has also given us the opportunity to prove our worth to him, which hopefully will allow us to work with the Romans to find a way home.”

“How?” Bordeaux asked.

“Well, Caligula accidentally turned on my flashlight last night, and was needless to say, thoroughly impressed. He also knows of our weapons, but has no idea how they work. Basically he wants us to give him a demonstration.”

“You realize,” Santino started, “that if what Hunter rambled about last night is true, that if we do this, we will probably change the course of history?”

“Perhaps, but it’s not like we are supplying the entire Roman army with firearms. What harm could occur from us just showing them what we can do? I suspect very little. However, there is more you should know. Hunter’s done a little more, ‘thinking,’ I suppose you could put it, and he’s got something you all should hear.”

All eyes turned towards me expectantly.

Sighing, I retold my thoughts on time travel, and how in the end, everything I’ve said may mean nothing. Everything about paradoxes, light speed, and duplicating, magical, time traveling spheres. I tried to spread things out a bit more, simplifying information and adding more detail. I wanted to make sure everyone was following, and that I limited confusion to a minimum. By the time I was finished, every face seemed deep in thought, except for Santino, who was never one for deep thought.

“You know, Jacob. I always thought you were just that shy guy who sat at the end of the bar, and got all the ladies because they saw some deep, contemplative, brooding type fella, just looking for some love. Now, I realize you’re just a big nerd.”

His joke received the desired response. Everyone laughed and it snapped them from the looks of worry they all wore after having just heard how dire our situation actually was. Soon, the group was arguing amongst themselves about how we were going to get back, except for Wang, who still seemed wrapped in his own little world.

Vincent got to his feet, raising his hands for silence. “Whatever the case may be, we need to worry about our safety and survival, so we focus on the demonstration, if for anything, so that they’ll agree to dig out McDougal so that we can put him to rest. Bordeaux, do you still have any explosives?”

“ Oui, I was not forced to use it all on the cavern. Besides, that container has plenty.”

“Right. I forgot. Good. We’ll use some of it in our demonstration. A small amount, however. We don’t want to give too much away. Wang, leave your medical supplies here, but bring some pain relievers, maybe we can impress them with our medical knowledge as well. The rest of us will demonstrate rifle and small arms fire. Strauss, can you field your DSR-1?”

“I should be,” she replied, trying to stretch her injured leg, “as long as I can do it sitting down. I can’t stand for long on my own and I don’t think I could lay on my stomach with my leg.”

“Fine. Hunter, back her up. We can’t afford to botch this one. We need to impress them beyond a shadow of a doubt, so look sharp. For now, get your gear, and prepare to leave.”

***

An hour later, we were joined by four Praetorians.

Leaving our wetsuits in the room, we wore navy blue BDUs Bordeaux found in the supply container, and donned our full complement of combat gear, sans headgear. The men who came for us had not been involved last night, so when they got a good look at us, they were humorously shocked. We had to look even more imposing than we did in the dim moonlight.

Hesitating, the centurion stuttered slightly when he spoke to Vincent, making him a little tough to understand. The message seemed to get across, however, and we soon found ourselves walking through the streets of Rome on a warm, late afternoon day.

As opposed to last night, where there had only been a few drunken miscreants about, there were now hundreds of people lining the streets going on about their daily lives. Men were gathered in small groups, discussing the day’s events, while the women carried baskets, and bundles of clothing, going about the day’s errands. Each noticed our arrival, and their attention immediately shifted to us. A few women dropped their baskets, while plenty of jaws dropped all around. Some of the more confident children braved an attempt to touch us. They were rewarded with warm smiles, and maybe tousled hair, all in an attempt for us to show our friendliness.

Our march through Rome was short lived. We passed through a gate, beneath a large wall that must have stretched around the city. Since we had arrived in the days of Caligula, it must have been the Servian Wall, the original wall named for Rome’s sixth king, Servius Tullius. The Romans weren’t big on defensive walls, relying on their legions to defend them instead. It wasn’t until the Aurelian Wall was erected that there was a defensive barrier around the entire city. The Servian Wall didn’t even cross the Tiber River, and there were many buildings and structures outside its defensive structure such as the Campus Martius, and the Castra Praetoria, near where I believe we had just spent the night.