Not with these suits.”
Kaeso checked the vault schematics on his visor again. “You're right. Good thing this isn't the elevator we want.” He stepped back into the lobby.
“Of course,” Dariya said, checking her visor. “This shaft is too narrow. It's got to be a freight elevator.”
“Let's try the loading docks.”
The crew walked through the lobby and onto the theater floor. Ash-covered busts sat in alcoves along the walls. More frescoes covered the walls with scenes from bawdy comedies to tragic dramas. Above them hung a spectacular chandelier with hundreds of tiny, dangling crystals. It looked like an upside down tholus tree.
Kaeso grunted, then pointed up at the chandelier. “Our white tholus tree.”
“So Barbata knew what she was talking about after all,” Blaesus said. “Should we start digging up the seats beneath it?”
The crew ignored Blaesus and continued walking down the aisle.
A colorful set graced the stage, as if awaiting the next performance. It was a scene from ancient Greece, with Greek gods and Greek lettering painted on marble columns. Kaeso's Greek was limited, but he could make out “Thebes” on a column.
“Seneca,” Blaesus said wistfully. “It’s a scene from the first act of Oedipus , I believe. It's been years since I saw a play by him. The Seneca troupes in the Lost Worlds don’t compare to a true Roman company.”
Flamma chuckled. “Give me a good Atellan farce any day. Seneca depresses me.”
“Atellan farces are vulgar,” Blaesus scoffed. “Just the sort of taste I'd expect from a gladiator. Lucia, please tell me you are not a vulgar plebe like our gladiator comrade? Seneca or Atellan?”
“I've never been to the theater,” she said.
“You've never... But why? You call yourself a Roman and you've never been to the theater?”
“Why spend a dozens sesterces and two hours to sit in a crowded theater when I can watch dramas on my own visum?”
“Oh, my dear, it's the experience you pay for, not the story. We’ll remedy that once we're all rich. Then you won't have any excuse to avoid live plays. I’ll take you to a good Seneca play, perhaps Oedipus in memory of this adventure. I think you’d like it. I suppose we could find a decent enough company outside Roma. Perhaps Libertus has one. What say you, Centuriae? Are the Liberti uncultured barbarians like all good Romans are taught to believe, or do they have good playhouses with quality actors?”
“I wouldn't know,” Kaeso said. “I'm more of a reader. I'd rather read the worst book ever written than see the best play ever made.”
Blaesus laughed. “Centuriae, I'm not sure if you're joking or serious. To be honest, it doesn't matter. A clever response nonetheless.”
Kaeso climbed the six stairs up to the stage and then weaved around the set pieces to the curtains behind them. He parted the curtains and stepped into the tight corridor. His headlamps illuminated the dusty air ten feet in every direction.
“Lucia, take your group left and I'll go right. Call if you find the elevator.”
“Yes, sir.”
Kaeso led Dariya, Daryush, and Flamma to the right. Collapsed rigging lay scattered on the floor. He stepped around it, warning the others as he did so.
Kaeso saw the first body backstage. It was a man, naked, lying on his back, his empty eye sockets staring at the ceiling. The irradiated city and dry climate had preserved the body well. Though the skin was leathery, the man's facial features were clear. He had no hair that Kaeso could see, and his neck was swollen as wide as his head. A Cariosus victim.
Kaeso took a deep breath and stepped over the man.
Dariya said, “There's your body, Flamma. Happy?”
Flamma exhaled, but said nothing.
Kaeso turned another corner and saw the freight elevator doors. Five more bodies lay before them. He shined is helmet lights on the bodies and saw they were also Cariosus victims. Men and women, all naked, with swollen necks and no hair. Kaeso noticed