Page 82 of Thawed Gladiator: Varro

“I know hope is a dangerous thing, Varro, but I’m beginning to feel… optimistic.”

He hugs me tight and settles his forehead against mine, calming me with his presence as our breaths mingle.

“Yes, dangerous,Dulcis. But I feel it, too. I’d like you to teach me how to record myself. Can you do that? Like the people I see on my phone?”

His voice is so full of enthusiasm, how can I say no? “Sure. What do you have in mind?”

“I can teach the men things about this new world. They can watch when they’re ready. From small things like how to use utensils and not our fingers, to large things, like our freedom. It will take them time to adjust… to believe.”

“Brilliant! It will speed their assimilation.”

We leave the hallway long enough to pull two comfy chairs in from an abandoned waiting room down the hall and allow ourselves to weave plans of the future. I’ll be honest, they don’t spring up out of nowhere. I’ve been dreaming of them since we caught sight of the bodies encased in ice at the site of the other half of theFortuna.I’ve just never been hopeful enough to say them out loud.

I paint a picture of a remote piece of acreage, possibly in Missouri near my parents. After they’re revived, we can keep the men who live through the cryo process isolated until they get their bearings. In all honesty, many of them may never be able to join modern-day society. But with the money from the gold and possible speaking engagements, we can provide for them forever in a protected enclave.

As I share my ideas with Varro, he jumps in with enthusiasm, sharing his ideas of a barracks for the single men, and houses for men who might find love like we have.

I mention horses which might be therapeutic.

“To Tartarus with therapeutic. That soundsfun!”

As we continue to spin ideas, he adds, “The money from the gold is good, but we’ll want to earn our own keep. We’re no longer slaves. We can be productive.”

He loves the idea of building an arena and charging admission for people to watch mock gladiator games.

“The men will love keeping their skills up and putting on exhibitions.”

Then his eyes light up as he asks, “How large will this property be?” There’s a sparkle in his eye as I warily tell him I think it will be several times larger than this hospital campus.

“We could make garum at the far end of the property,Dulcis. It won’t offend your delicate nose.”

How can I argue with him when he’s as full of enthusiasm as a six-year-old on Christmas Eve?

“We’ll call it Fortuna’s Gold and make a fortune.”

Just for a moment, I push away the thought of Thrax lying not fifty feet away, fighting for his life in the other room. Instead, I allow my mind to fly with ideas of all fourteen men alive and well, and learning to thrive in this new world.

Although his chair is barely sturdy enough to hold him, I ease onto Varro’s lap and tuck close, my ear on his chest as I listen to the reassuring thrum of his heart.

“What if they all wake up, hale and hearty, and come to America to discover the taste of freedom? And Varro, what if they find a woman to love, just as you did? Wouldn’t it be wonderful if there were thirteen more happy endings?”

“Yes,Dulcis. Although I doubt any could find a love as strong and beautiful as ours.”

Chapter Sixty-Four: Epilogue

Laura

The Roman sun warms my face as I stand on the balcony of our rented apartment, overlooking the bustling streets of the Eternal City. Five years have passed since Varro and I left that isolated island, and so much has changed. Yet, as I watch the morning light paint the ancient buildings in hues of gold and amber, I’m struck by how some things remain timeless.

“Mama! Papa! Look what I found!”

Our daughter Aurelia’s excited voice draws me back inside. At four years old, she’s a whirlwind of energy and curiosity, with Varro’s dark curls and my inquisitive nature. She’s holding up a small object, her brown eyes wide with wonder.

“What treasure have you discovered, little one?” I ask, kneeling beside her.

She opens her palm to reveal a coin—not an ancient Roman denarius as one might hope to find in this history-rich city, but a simple modern euro. Still, her excitement is palpable.

Varro appears in the doorway, a fond smile playing on his lips. “Ah, a coin! Shall we add it to your collection, my little archaeologist?”

---