The intricate clock with it's delicate Illyrian mechanism, chimed musically from its spot on the mantle. Hearing the familiar sound, Gaius Theolonius Bennett looked up from the paper he was reading to check the time. He then glanced out a nearby window.

Just as quickly he was grimacing in disappointment.

It was still raining. While not uncommon in Londinium, Britannia's capital, to have rain at this time of year, well, at any time of year really, he had hoped for less seasonal weather for today's events. And by that, he wanted clear blue skies.

Of course the ever-present clouds hanging over the factories in the industrial quarter made blue skies over the sprawling city virtually impossible. Still, he had hoped.

Gaius sighed. Such a thing was just one of many challenges of living in a modern industrial city like Londinium in this forward thinking time, 724 Anno Domini, two years after the establishment of the first Roman settlement across the Atlantic to the west, on the shores of the New World. But, when one lived in the worldwide glory that was the Unified Roman Republic, one could expect such advances each and every day!

Before he could sink further into his thoughts, there was a sharp rap on the door of his apartment.

"Gaius, you layabout!" a familiar voice called from the other side. "Rouse yourself, old friend. We've an adventure to begin!"

"I'm up, I'm up," he quickly replied, throwing himself to his feet. A handful of steps took him to his door, which he pulled open in a single motion. In doing so, he revealed the smiling visage of his life long friend.

"Gaius!" said the sandy haired man he found there in the way of greeting. Dapper in a well-tailored suit and long coat of gallic make, the man took his hand and giving it a firm shake.

"Lucius Flavius Nero, you old scoundrel," Gaius replied as he returned the handshake, his smile equally broad. "You look fit. Egypt must've agreed with you."

"I was entertained while I was there, for certain."

"By Alexandria's famed Library?'" Gaius asked with a grin, earning himself a snort.

"And you claim to know me," Lucius said dryly, eliciting a laugh from his friend.

"As long as you didn't catch any permanent diseases, I'd say it was time well spent." He gave Lucius a slap on the shoulder. "Good to see you, old boy!" He gestured over his shoulder. "Give me a moment to retrieve my coat and hat and then we'll go!"

By the time the two friends had reached the street running in front of Gaius' building, the drizzle had become a downpour. Flipping up the collar on his heavy gallic long coat, Gaius settled his hat more firmly on his head.

"So the shipment arrived without incident?" he asked as he glanced up at the sky beyond the portico protecting the building's entrance.

"I saw to its escort myself," Lucius assured him. "You've nothing to fear, old friend. Senator Kingsley's goods have arrived in Britannia safe and sound. They'll be ready for the exhibit at the museum on schedule. The senators from Gaul, Hispania and Germania will be suitably impressed by the antiquities you've gathered from Egypt and all points of interest in northern and central Africa at Kingsley's behest."

His friend paused just long enough to settle his own hat before taking a step out from beneath the portico to wave down a taxi. As the horse-drawn covered carriage went to a nearby intersection to turn around and come back on their side of the cobblestone road, Lucius darted back under the portico.

"You'll make your inspection, sign the customs forms, and collect your fee from the senator's aide before lunch," the sandy haired fellow continued as if he hadn't stopped, shaking the rain from his sleeves as he spoke. "Leaving plenty of time to visit Britannicus Circus's steam menagerie, that one you've been dying to see, before you have to make an appearance at the senator's office to make your report."

Gaius couldn't help a wry chuckle. Lucius always made things sound so straightforward. And they usually were, right up to the point that they abruptly went sideways. Something that happened frequently when the two friends got together.

Then the taxi was pulling up in front of them. As the driver, a sturdy Celtic Briton with blue woar tattoos on his face, scrambled down from his seat to respectfully tug a forelock before opening the door, Gaius glanced skyward once last time in the hopes of seeing blue.

Instead he was just in time to see a dirigible slip out of the clouds on its final approach to the city center's docking pylon several blocks away. An innovation of the free thinkers of Germania, it combined Roman steam technology for propulsion with lighter-than-air gases contained in streamlined balloons. The resulting craft sailed the skies much like a ship sailed the seas, connecting the Roman cities of Europa, Asia, and Africa more efficiently and effectively than the oxen-drawn overland caravans that once plied the trade routes that kept the Republic together.

The dirigible was just one of the latest inventions discovered by the free thinkers that drove science and discovery forward in the steam-powered republic. Ever since military engineer and architect Vitruvius discovered the first practical application for steam in 65 BC, garnering the interest of engineers and free thinkers across the Republic, new steam technology and discovery appeared nearly every year. Technology that gave the Unified Roman Republic the strength and capability to swiftly conquer the known world.

And now, 800 years later, the technology had advanced far enough to allow Roman shipbuilders to build steam-powered ships big and fast enough to cross the tumultuous Atlantic in a few short weeks instead of months, like wind-driven ships previously needed. With access to that kind of power, the Republic was poised to bring Roman civilisation to the New World.

An elbow nudged Gaius from his rumination.

"Quit daydreaming, man, and get into the taxi!" Lucius urged, his hand in Gaius' back propelling him forward. "I'm getting soaked out here."

"Sorry," he said, clambering up the steps and into the taxi's cabin. He dropped onto a padded bench.

"This rain has me a bit reflective."

"Figures you couldn't wait for a drier day to do your reflecting, old son," his friend said as he dropped onto the opposite bench, the driver closing the cabin door behind him. "You free thinkers are all the same. Heads perpetually in the clouds."

"Allows us to better see what's ahead," Gaius quickly retorted.

"I knew you would say that," Lucius said with a grin. Then he was giving the cabin wall a rap with his knuckles.

"To the Brittanicus Circus, driver, at best speed!"

***

The Brittanicus Circus: the largest of the circular plazas that were the focus of Londinium daily life. Except this was no ordinary neighborhood plaza, with its center fountain, open air markets, and vendor stalls. Set close to the city's beating heart, the Brittanicus Circus, or known more simply to the city's inhabitants as the Circus, was the center of commerce, trade and learning for not only the city but all of Roman Brittania as well.

Here guild halls for various trades vied for space with covered markets selling all manner of goods from every corner of the Republic, tinker shops rubbed shoulders with explorers' retreats, and the Londinium Library of Knowledge and Antiquities sat across from the Republic's Museum of Natural History. In its very center, watching over it all from its pedestal 10 yards off the cobblestone street was the brooding statue of Julius Caesar, the Roman leader responsible for the pacification of Brittania's warring Celtic tribes, bringing both peace and the glories of the Republic to the islands.

The Circus was definitely an interesting place to be, filled with sights and sounds that just about anybody could enjoy. At nearly any hour, one could find it thronging with people doing their shopping or visiting the sights. Gaius, however, only had eyes for one thing: the Engineers' Guild's steam menagerie.

A joint effort between the guild, the Tinkers' Union and the Freethinkers' Society of Brittania, the menagerie was a collection of intricately crafted clockwork animals powered by steam in startling mimicry of real life. Clockwork lions roared, horses walked, and tigers climbed trees, each movement meticulously programmed into steel cylinders. Tiny levers, valves, pulleys and pistons then used pressurized steam to translate the code stamped onto the cylinder into motion. The tigers were definitely Gaius' favorite, with their burnished bodies and powerful steam piston muscles.

The automata reminded him of his many trips to Africa, exploring and collecting antiquities from dozens of cultures, both ancient and modern. Of course, they were nothing like the real thing, but the free thinker in him thrilled at the sight of the metal animals, hissing and clanking as they moved.

Unfortunately business came first. He needed to secure the shipment of antiquities that Lucius escorted from Mauritania to make sure everything arrived intact. Only after everything was signed and delivered to the museum's curator, Senator Kingsley, could he afford to indulge himself with a visit to the menagerie.

The cab pulled up to the customs house, a cavernous building set in beside the Augustine Market, one of the city's largest. Even with the rain sluicing out of the sky, it was thronging with people from all walks of life. Gaius could hear the crowd even from inside the taxi.

"Sounds busy," he remarked. Lucius nodded.

"Two steam freighters from Europa had just docked as my ship came up to the south side pier," he said. "They must've hustled their loads in quick." He lifted the canvas flap covering the window set into the door and peered out. "Aye, I'm seeing stevedores from the Thames moving crates marked with tolls from the eastern states off a wagon."

"Makes sense," Gaius said with a nod. "Sarmatian lace is always popular, as is Dacian leather and Chinese porcelain."

Then they fell silent as the taxi stopped.

"That'll be seven denarii, my lords," the driver said, his Latin touched with a hint of a Briton accent.

Fishing out his wallet as he made his way out of the cab, Gaius pulled free two five denarii notes and handed them to the driver with a nod of thanks. That done, the two of them made their way into the customs building.

Thankfully the driver was skilled enough to find an empty spot under the broad, collonaded porch that ran along the front of several of the Circus buildings, including the customs house. So, not only were they able to disembark without getting any more wet from the rain. But they were able to make their way inside under shelter as well.

So Gaius was in a pretty good mood by the time they reached the port offices.

"Gaius Bennett to inspect a shipment my factor brought in from Egypt," he said to the clerk sitting behind a desk near the door.

Taking the waybill from Lucius, the clerk quickly compared it to a ledger he drew from a drawer.

"Ah, here it is, signor," he said. "Twenty wooden crates, inspected for proper tolls and vermin. It cleared two hours ago." He looked up. "Once you've paid your customs inspection fee, you can pick up your crates from stall 27."

After the particulars were taken care off, the two friends made their way into the building's cavernous interior. Lit by gas lamps set at regular intervals, the vast space was relatively well-illuminated. But not quite enough to easily find his holding stall, stall 27, which was an enclosure large enough to hold his shipment.

Thankfully, having used the customs house many times in the past, Gaius was more than familiar with the layout. Despite the less than satisfactory lighting, he quickly found the stall. And he just as quickly noticed something amiss.

A quick count of the crates followed by a scan of the shipping manifest confirmed it. He was missing two crates!

Lucius swiftly noticed the missing crates as well.

"Jupiter's left nut!" he exclaimed unhappily. "Are we light two crates? How's that even possible? I counted them myself right before coming to see you! They were all there, I swear!"

"I believe you, old friend," Gaius grimly replied. "You've never failed to bring our goods out of the provinces hale and whole before. No, this happened after the goods cleared customs."

"Why, that was only an hour ago!" Lucius declared, his dismay morphing into anger. "Damn it, where's the guard captain? I want to have a word with him about his lax security."

Gaius was about to comment on that when he noticed something peculiar near the back of the stall. As his friend continued grumbling about poor security, he slipped into the enclosure for a better look.

There, by the crate holding a marble bust of the famous Egyptian pharaoh Cleopatra, there were some metal shavings. Grabbing the oil lamp each pen had for the customs clerk to use during their inspection, he lit it with the striker he always carried with him for emergencies. Then he was leaning closer.

By the lamp's light, he could see that the shavings were made by some sort of cutting machine, an oil-fueled, steam-powered chiseler, if he were to guess. His last expedition into Asia Minor had carried such equipment, useful for cutting and resizing chain.

Carried backpack style, it would leave oil drippings from its compact fuel pan, and lubricant from the two-stroke steam piston motor. And those drippings would look like, ... He cast about with the lamp for a moment before he spotted a small smudge of oil on the wood plank floor.

"Ah, there we go," he said to himself.

That, at least, confirmed the use of the cutter. But it was a noisy device, especially when it's cutting. The guards should've easily heard it running. Unless there was some other distraction nearby that called them away to investigate. Something loud and obnoxious like, ... stevedores hurriedly unloading a shipment from boats on the Thames.

He frowned as he recalled Lucius mentioning that. The timing certainly would've worked.

"I've seen that look before," his friend finally stopped his angry muttering to say. "You've reasoned something out, haven't you."

"I have," Gaius replied from where he had squatted by the oil smudge. He pointed at the shavings.

"Somebody used a steam chiseler to cut the chains holding the crates together," he said.

"A chiseler?" Lucius frowned. "But they're noisy as Hades. The guards would instantly hear it unless, ..."

"There was a distraction," Gaius supplied.

"Aye, a distraction like, ..." Abruptly Lucius clapped a hand to his forehead. "Jupiter take me, the stevedores with that shipment from the East! They would've made a great clatter, trying to get those crates off that wagon. And they would've been unloading about an hour ago, considering the wet roads between the Circus and the river."

"Precisely." Gaius stood. "We need to check by the market's river entrance to see if anybody recalls seeing someone with a cutter."

As it turned out, several people remembered, including one of the stevedores. A thick-necked Gaul, he quickly nodded when Gaius mentioned the cutter.

"Aye, your lordship," he said in thickly accented Latin. "I recall seeing a cloaked man with a steam cutter rig strapped to his back as we were unloading our second wagon."

The two friends exchanged a quick look. The man the Gaul was describing could very well be their culprit!

Before they could ask another question, the stevedore went on without being prompted.

"I thought it unusual to see a rig like that out in the open. But when my mate Crixus said there was a work crew fixing a facade on one of the market buildings, I figured he was with them and thought nothing more of it."

Gaius felt a brow climb in question. A work crew? What a perfect cover for the thief!

"Which building?" he asked.

***

Thankfully the building the stevedore pointed to was close and under the portico. The rain had started coming down more fiercely while they were questioning the man. If they were forced to travel even across the Circus to find the place, they would've gotten a good soaking and possibly a chill bad enough to send them to a physician.

Still, they needed to hurry if they wanted a chance at finding a witness there that had a fresh memory of the cloaked man.

Pulling their coats close, the two friends jogged through the damp air swirling beneath the portions protective reach towards the building in question.

"Think we should call for the Vigiles?" Lucius asked as they ran. "The Third Cohort has the Circus watch. We could just run over there and, ..."

He trailed off at the quizzical look Gaius then threw him.

"Aye, I know I'm usually the one throwing caution to the wind, Gaius," he quickly said at catching the look. "But there's something about this that feels far bigger than a simple heist from a customs holding cell."

Gaius nodded.

"I'm getting the same sense, old friend," he admitted. "But I also have the feeling that our thief is waiting for a good opportunity to try leaving the Circus with his ill-gotten goods. If we go for the Vigiles, we might miss our chance to nab him ourselves and retrieve our property before the exhibit."

Lucius chuckled.

"It's always about saving your reputation, isn't it, Gaius," he dryly commented. Gaius smiled and shrugged.

"My reputation brings me my wealthy patrons, old friend," he said before sobering. "Besides, I'm not going to let some thief best me. Not now, not ever!"

Then they were jogging into the building's entrance. Finding themselves in the midst of a cluttered work area, they immediately slowed down.

A quick look around told them that the Gaul had understated the work going on. Not just a mere rebuild of a facade, it looked like the building was being completely gutted and renovated. Scaffolding adorned the walls, drop cloths covered the floors and tools were gathered in convenient chests set at strategic locations throughout. All under the dancing vigilance of several well-placed oil lamps scattered across the work site.

In all, it looked just like a hundred work sites he had been to before, as you would expect. There was just one problem: everything was too tidy. There was no possible way that busy workers would keep all of their equipment perfectly stowed in the storage chest when they should be scattered across the site because they were working.

"I don't see any fresh spilt plaster or paint on these drop cloths," Lucius quietly stated, having also noticed the too-perfect state of the site. "No sawdust, or marble dust, or even tile pieces. Yet there's a stack of fresh tile right there. And uncut marble."

Gaius nodded in agreement as he slowly walked through the middle of the drop cloths. He was about to comment on the anomalies as well when he noticed something set against a wall with a cloth thrown over. Something with a familiar shape.

Stepping to it, he tugged off the cloth and frowned at what he found there. He paused just long enough to touch the device's steam reservoir before straightening.

"Well, I've found the cutter," he said. Lucius immediately looked over to find his friend standing beside the compact steam-powered device.

"That's a chiseler alright, but how do you know it's the one?" he asked.

"Steam tank's still warm," Gaius replied.

"Making it the only piece of equipment that's been recently used here," Lucius said with a look of comprehension. "We've got the cutter, but where's it's owner?"

"Seems like a good spot to introduce meself," a third voice said from one of the scaffolds.

The two friends instantly twisted towards the scaffold, tensing themselves for action. And found themselves looking at the business end of a steam-powered scorpio.

A mainstay of the army that conquered the known world and formed the Unified Republic, the modern steam scorpio was an efficient weapon that still carried elements from its ancient heritage combined with those of a smaller, rapid-fire crossbows. Built on a crossbow-style stock, it featured a sturdy steel barrel, spring-loaded launch plate, a pressure chamber and a variable munition magazine holding up to twenty bolts that could be quickly dropped and swapped out. With steam pressure being provided by another backpack rig and fed in with a flexible hose, the scorpio could fire five rounds a minute in its auto-fire mode, or could knock down a door with its high pressure battering ram setting.

Regardless of the setting, it was a deadly weapon in the hands of an experienced operator. It, and it's more powerful artillery cousin, the steam ballista, had crushed Sarmatian horse lords, Chinese infantry, Greek phalanxes, Germanic berserkers, and Carthaginian mercenaries with equal speed and ruthlessness. And right now they were looking down the barrel of one.

"Little birds tell me that you've been asking questions around the Circus," the man, lean and dark in a dangerous sort of way, said in an almost conversational tone. "The masters said we might attract too much attention if we stayed in one spot too long." The scorpio's muzzle indicated the two friends with a gesture.

"You two showing up here proved that they were right. Take 'em, boys."

Several heavy-shouldered, thick-necked men dressed as workers stepped into the space from both sides.

"And here's the work crew," Lucius dryly noted as the two friends pulled their eyes from the man on the scaffold to give the newcomers a quick look over. In doing so, they saw that the men were almost all Roman, ruffians from the lower classes most favored by the criminal element to do their dirty work.

Seeing them was enough to make Gaius' mind spin into furious motion. Of course the first thought that was legible in that maelstrom of consideration was that he had no intention of letting himself be taken by these men. And not just because he had done his mandatory stint in the Legions as a young man and knew how to handle himself.

As a procurer of rare items, Gaius had been in more dangerous situations than he cared to remember. He had faced off against Mors, the Roman essence of Death so many times, they both knew not only the song, but the steps to the dance. In dancing that dance, he had learned a thing or two about survival. And one of the most important things he learned was to hit the enemy when they least expected it.

Like when they're about to become prisoners.

As the man's minions stepped closer, Gaius looked over at his friend.

"You up for a bit of a fight, old friend?" he asked in a low voice. Lucius quickly returned his look.

"Always. But our friend on the scaffold with the scorpio may say otherwise," he retorted in an equally quiet voice.

Gaius favored the lean man with a quick glance before returning his attention to his friend.

"I doubt very much he'll shoot his own men," he said with some certainty. "We stay close to them and he won't risk hitting one of them to shoot us. Then we tussle our way to an exit and bolt to the Vigiles."

"Sounds like a plan," Lucius replied as he looked at the nearest tough, taking measure of him as he did. "When do we make our move?

"How about now?"

***

Gaius waited just long enough for the thug targeting him to reach for his arm before he twisted tightly to drive a fist into the man's surprised face. The man's comrade shouted a startled 'hey!' and lunged for the determined adventurer. Eluding the man's hands, Gaius grabbed him by the tunic and planted his forehead into the thug's face.

"That's courtesy of my Briton friends," he growled as the man fell back, his nose reduced to a shapeless, bloody mass, before another thug was throwing his arms around Gaius in an attempt to pin his arms to his sides.

Lucius, in the meantime, had broken out his Chinese boxing, lashing out with viper-quick jabs to break noses and batter faces as he kept no less than a half dozen thugs at bay. He also turned them around to keep them between him and the increasingly frustrated man on the scaffold.

"You fools!" the man snarled as he brought the scorpio to the ready, its steam plant hissing as pressure built. "Just grab them!"

"We can't, milord," one of the toughs shouted back. "They're too quick!"

True to the thug's assertion, Gaius easily slipped his attacker's attempt to pin his arms, shrugging out of his grasp before ducking an awkward swing from another thug. That punch ended up landing on the first thug's jaw, staggering him. Off balance, he fell into the second, allowing Gaius to push them both over with a hard shove from his foot.

The determined adventurer then turned to face his next opponent. Only to find Lucius' back pressing against his as he wrestled with a large Sicilian.

"I'm getting a bad feeling, old son," he gasped as he fought to keep the bigger man's hands off his neck. "Are you sure this bloke won't put a bolt in one of his own to get at us?"

"Positive," Gaius managed as another thug rushed in and he was forced to fend him off. "Honor amongst thieves. He wouldn't kill a valued employee, ..."

Abruptly the man trying to grab him, stiffened in pain before falling away, a scorpio bolt sticking out of the side of his neck.

"Bloody hell," he muttered in dismay as he stared at the dead man on the ground at his feet.

"Thought as much," Lucius growled, catching sight of the fallen thug over his shoulder. He then twisted the Sicilian in front of his stunned friend in time to block two more pressure-launched bolts, the man jerking with each missile slamming into his back before dropping.

"New plan!" Then he was grabbing Gaius by the tunic and hauling him forward. "Run for the scaffold. If we get under it, he won't be able to target us."

Nodding, Gaius joined his friend in pushing through the stunned thugs still standing, heading straight for the scorpio operator and his tenuous high ground. Then bolts were raining down all around them as the lean man switched to rapid fire and emptied his magazine in an attempt to hit the two friends.

Ducking and running as hard as they could, the two dodged the bolts that were now cutting down the lean man's minions as his scorpio chuffed at full speed. Then, miraculously, they were under the three-story high scaffold's bottom level.

"That was close," Lucius gasped, back against the wall.

"Too close," Gaius said, holding up his gallic coat to inspect a number of holes and gashes it now sported. Dropping the fabric with a grimace, he looked up at the rough-hewn boards above their heads. And in doing so, he noticed that the boards weren't properly secured to the framework. Which made sense in the context that this building had been given only the appearance of a work place. Something that he quickly realized could be leveraged against their erstwhile host. Literally.

A hand went against the nearest framework post. Then, with a quick glance at the boards above them, he gave it a light push. And he smiled in grim satisfaction when the push made the structure visibly shift.

"Careful, Gaius," Lucius said in a low voice filled with tension. "This scaffold isn't secure. You'll bring the whole thing down on, ..." His voice trailed off as comprehension washed across his features. Then both men were grabbing the nearest post to vigorously shake them.

"What, ... what are you doing?" the lean man yelled as the scaffold swayed wildly back and forth. Made top heavy by him standing on the top-most level, the scaffold didn't need much help in tipping over.

A few heartbeats later, that was exactly what it was doing, the boards clunking as they shifted with the scaffold tilting away from the two friends. Then the man was howling in fear as he was sent tumbling awkwardly through the air by the scaffold's abrupt collapse. He hit the floor in a heap, rolling brokenly for a few feet before coming to a halt, the scorpio's rig on his back warped and leaking steam.

Gaius stared at the unmoving figure for a long moment to see if the fall had killed him. Only when the lean man stirred and groaned in pain did he relax. Granted, the man and his cronies had just tried to kill him and his best friend, but if there was to be justice here, he needed to be alive to go before a magistrate.

"Good," Lucius growled as he dusted himself off. "Now the blaggart can stand trial for what he's done."

"But not before we take the opportunity to question him," a new voice said.

Turning towards its source, the two friends watched as no less than eight heavily men and women stepped into the faux workplace, looking grim. Two of them were even carrying steam scorpios of their own, the powerful weapons hissing at full pressurization.

"Our apologies for not arriving sooner," a man in front, the owner of the voice, said with an apologetic nod. "But it would seem that our own investigation into the theft from your customs stall wasn't as efficient as yours."

"You were investigating this?" Lucius said, confused. "But we ourselves have only known about it for less than an hour. And we haven't even spoken to the authorities as yet."

"I can see why you'd be confused, friend," the man said, his smile broadening slightly as the rest of his crew spread out to check the other downed thugs. "However, we are not the authorities per se. We're something quite different. And we've been tracking the organization your thief works for, for some time now." He glanced over at the lean man with a thoughtful frown. "And I must say, I'm impressed with how quickly you two tracked him down here."

"It was fairly straightforward, actually," Gaius said with a thoughtful frown of his own. "He left behind enough clues that a few questions to the right people and we were able to narrow it down to this building. After that, it was just a matter of timing."

"And yet, finding those clues required a working knowledge of steam technology, following them to the next one in the chain took deductive reasoning and logic. Then defending yourselves against their aggression took skill and strength," the man quickly pointed out. "All speak to your experience in dealing with tough situations."

"Well, we both did our mandatory service with the Legions," Lucius began before a gesture from the man halted him.

"While I appreciate self-deprecation and modesty more than most, I also recognize true skill," the man said. "You two possess the qualities and skills my organization can use."

"And what organization would that be?" Gaius asked, frankly curious.

"We are a group of free thinkers, adventurers, law keepers and engineers," he said with a slight bow, "dedicated to the pursuit of truth's light and justice as we covertly protect the Republic from its enemies, both outside and within." He straightened up, his smile widening slightly.

"But that's a bit of a mouthful. So we go by a simpler name. We are the Illuminati!"

***

"The Illuminati," Gaius carefully repeated. "I don't think I've heard of you."

"You wouldn't have," the man said. "We like it that way. Makes our task that much easier. But we operate with a legal mandate, jointly issued by the Senate and the Papacy, to handle matters the Legions and the Vigiles cannot." Abruptly he held out his hand. "I'm Father Garibaldi, by the way."

"Pater," Gaius respectfully said as he took Garibaldi's hand. He was immediately surprised to not find it soft and weak, like those belonging to most priests and men devoted to books. Instead it was firm and callused, a hand that belonged to a man of action.

"Gaius Bennett. And my associate, Lucius Nero."

"Gentlemen," Garibaldi acknowledged each with a nod even as he took Lucius' hand to give it a firm shake.

"Father Garibaldi," one of the women that had accompanied the Illuminati priest, called out from the doorway leading to a side passage. She was a graceful yet determined looking Nubian, her Latin flawless and without accent.

"Did you find something, Sheba?" Garibaldi asked as the three of them looked in her direction.

"The stolen crates from Mr. Bennett's customs cell," she said, "along with a number of other items including that gold statue of Venus stolen from the central museum's art repository in Rome two months ago. The one you were looking for, father."

"Ah, excellent!" Garibaldi said with no little satisfaction. "Bishop Pastorius will be delighted that we've recovered it." He looked at a curious Gaius and Lucius. "His Excellency is the curator. Considering what you've been doing for a living, Mr. Bennett, I think he'd very much like to meet you."

"Perhaps when I'm next in Rome," Gaius said with a smile, inwardly delighted that the senator's goods had been successfully recovered.

"Why wait? We have a zeppelin already booked for the return voyage!" Garibaldi declared.

"Thank you, but I must decline. I've an exhibit to set up for a senator, ..."

"Already taken care of," Garibaldi indicated as, with a gesture, he directed his people to begin gathering up the wounded thugs and their leader. "And I'll send somebody around to take care of your flats."

At their puzzled looks, the priest chuckled.

"Ah, Garibaldi, you've gotten ahead of yourself yet again!" Then he abruptly sobered. "Gentlemen, in the Pope's name I would like to formally extend an invitation to you both to join the Illuminati. I've seen the measure of your skills and ability and know you will be tremendous assets to our cause. If you accept, you'll both be granted the rank of equites with property and income as befitting your new rank." He leaned towards them, his expression intent.

"What do you say?"

Gaius blinked as his mind worked furiously. Could he afford to pass on an opportunity to join a group of people like Lucius and himself whose sole purpose was to use the best technology and science to protect the Republic from its enemies? A group with the full support of both the Senate and the Church, no less?

"Do you feel like an adventure of Illuminati proportions, old friend?" he asked, looking over at an equally thoughtful Lucius.

"Is that even a question?" he quickly replied, his thoughtful expression transforming into a delighted grin. Gaius smiled back, his mind made up.

"Forgot who I was talking to, old boy," he said. Then he was looking over at a pleased Garibaldi, who had followed their exchange with interest.

"It's a brave new world, father. One my friend and I would like to help the Illuminati keep safe. So, where do we sign?"