The Scrolls of Velia

by John McWilliams

  “Parmenides wasn’t from Athens,” Spiros said. “He was from Velia—part of Magna Graecia on the shore of the Tyrrhenian Sea.”

  “The west coast of Italy,” Adella said.

  “That’s right. And, today, just east of the archeological ruins of Velia, there’s a network of caves—”

  “Which, no doubt,” I said, “have all been picked through by archeologists and scavengers over the years.”

  “True, the aboveground ruins have been picked clean. But not the caves. Superstitions have kept people out of them over the millennia, and in recent times, a special archeological project has kept them out. It’s a government-private co-venture. The Italian government and…”

  He looked at us expectantly.

  “Raven Entelechy,” Adella finished.

  “Precisely.”

  “If the government’s involved,” Mary said, “doesn’t that mean, at the very least, Italian citizens can get access?”

  “Unfortunately, no,” Spiros said. “The government provides capital, but Raven Entelechy is responsible for all operations, including site security. They alone determine who does and who doesn’t get access. And basically, no one gets access.”

  “So Raven Entelechy has a bunch of government officials in its pocket,” Adella said.

  “To put it mildly.”

  “But why should Raven Entelechy go to all this trouble?” I asked. “This big excavation and paying off government officials. Why not just remove the scrolls and store them someplace else?”

  “Because the Ravens don’t just want to possess the scrolls; they want to worship them. Raven Entelechy may have started out as strictly a business concern, but somewhere along the line, they became a religion. And apparently their doctrine demands that the scrolls be preserved within what they consider their holy shrine.”

  “The caves,” Mary said.

  “That’s right.”

  “Spiros, can you give us a brief history of the scrolls?” Adella asked.

  “Certainly,” Spiros said. “To start with, it’s believed that, at Parmenides’s request, his followers placed a marble ossuary—a chest— containing the scrolls inside his tomb. That would have been around 470 BC. To put that in perspective, that’s nearly a hundred and fifty years before the founding of the Library of Alexandria.

  “Parmenides’s tomb was discovered in 1605 by the archeologist Giuseppe Guerrazzi—this would be around Galileo’s time. But when Guerrazzi died, so too was lost the location of the tomb. The only hint: Guerrazzi’s reference to the tomb being in the deepest depths of the underworld. After the Guerrazzi estate was divvied up among his children, the marble chest containing the scrolls was donated to a Capitoline Museum in Rome, where the scrolls were incorrectly catalogued as Roman legal documents from around AD 300.

  “So then, let’s see. In 1743, the scrolls were relocated to the Museo Archeologico di Naples, where they sat until 1823, at which point they were recategorized as Pax Romana era poems. And finally, in the late 1930s, Dr. Herman Schmaltz and the Eureka Group discovered and correctly identified them. Using Nazi leverage over Mussolini’s government, they had the scrolls shipped to Berlin. And a few years later, sometime before the end of the war, the Eureka Group returned the scrolls to Italy.”

  “Back to the caves?” Mary asked.

  “Presumably. We believe Dr. Schmaltz and his associates figured out the location of Parmenides’s tomb.”

  “So,” Adella said, “sometime after that, General Gorinevsky, the guy who founded Raven Entelechy, must have also discovered it.” She thought a moment. “Why do you think the Ravens want to keep the scrolls a secret?”

  “Because they believe that’s the role of the Descendants—to protect the world from the Apollonian curse. They believe the story of Apollo scorching all ravens black is actually a metaphor for his true intention: destroying the world. According to them, the true story is that Apollo was so full of rage at Coronis that he whispered an idea into Parmenides’s ear that would fester and, over time—because this knowledge was so great and never meant for mortals—destroy the world. That idea, they believe, took on full maturity with the Eureka Formula.”

  “Then why not just destroy the scrolls and the formula?” Mary asked.

  “Because they believe that would only further enrage Apollo and bring about a more immediate destruction. As long as the scrolls and the formula exist, Apollo will wait. Time, they believe, means nothing to him.”

  “How convenient,” Adella said. “So they can keep right on extorting money out of the energy companies.”

  “And they think they’re the good guys,” Mary added.

  “If you ask me,” I said, “I think the Ravens and the Apollonians are both nuts.”

  Adella got up and went over to the shelves of artifacts. “Where does all this leave us? How are we ever going to get access to the formula and the scrolls?”

  “Sneak into the archeological site?” Mary suggested.

  “Unfortunately,” Spiros said, “Raven Entelechy’s Sito Archeologico di Velia is more or less a military base. But your next step, to me, is clear.”

  “It is?” Adella raised an eyebrow.

  “To have any hope at all of getting into the Raven site, you’ll need to meet with Isabella Alessi.”

  “Who’s she?” Adella asked.

  “Isabella and her people know all about the site. They know about the three of you. And they would quite literally kill to get their hands on the scrolls.” Spiros looked at me apologetically. “Isabella’s an Apollonian high priestess.”

  “Perfect,” I said—over Mary’s, “Cool!”

  Chapter 11

  We flew from Athens to Naples via Istanbul, Turkey. Even with a ten-hour layover, it was the fastest route we could find. We landed in Naples just after nine the following morning.

  “Welcome to Italy.” Isabella Alessi, our Apollonian-Italian tour guide, greeted us at a security checkpoint in the main terminal. She was about thirty-five, tall and attractive with long, black hair, and was wearing a navy blue dress suit. I was expecting something slightly more hippie-ish.

  “Thanks for coming all this way,” Adella said.

  “It’s my honor. And it really wasn’t that far.” Isabella shook our hands and bowed.

  “All right,” I said. “Just so we’re not getting off on the wrong foot. We’re not actually the Descendants.”

  Isabella smiled—and bowed again.

  “Oh, don’t listen to him.” Mary stepped in front of me. “That’s just Henry being negative. So, you’re a high priestess?” Mary unabashedly looked her up and down. “You seem so young.”

  “Thank you,” Isabella replied. “And you have such gorgeous hair.”

  “Thank you.” Mary touched her golden locks and smiled broadly.

  I glanced at Adella and rolled my eyes.

  “Should we get going?” Adella suggested.

  “Yes, yes, we should,” Isabella said, “if we want to beat the traffic. I thought we could stop by Paestum to meet the others before we head down to Velia. Is that okay with you?”

  “What others?” I asked.

  “The other Apollonians—naturally.” Mary gave me a look before turning to Adella. “I’m sure we can use all the help we can get, right?”

  “I agree,” Adella said.

  Ten minutes later we were on our way, Isabella driving us south along the coast toward Paestum. Mary sat beside Isabella in the front seat, with Adella and me in the back.

  “So, your interest isn’t the scrolls?” Isabella asked.

  “We’re interested in some documents that are supposedly with the scrolls,” Adella replied.

  “You mean the Eureka Formula,” Isabella said.

  “Does anyone not know about the Eureka Formula?” I remarked.

  “Like the scrolls, most consider the formula a myth,” Isabella explained. “But both exist, I can assure you.”

  “Let me ask you this,” Adella said. “Does the riddle
‘Eureka lies at the end of the road of the dead within the mansion of the night’ mean anything to you?”

  “That’s not much of a riddle,” Isabella replied. “We already know where the Eureka Formula is. It’s getting to it that’s the problem.”

  “You mean you know where the road of the dead is?” Mary asked.

  “I know where it begins.” Isabella glanced at Mary. “It begins in the cave system below Sito Archeologico di Velia—the Raven Entelechy archeological site in Velia.”

  “We assumed as much,” Adella said. “Dr. Mellios told us about the caves. But what we were hoping was that there might be other access points besides the one controlled by the Ravens. We thought if we could sneak in and take pictures of the Eureka documents, maybe we could get in and get out without the Ravens even knowing we were there.”

  “Unfortunately, there’s only that one access point, and it’s below a militarily hardened building at the center of the site. The Ravens sealed off everything else years ago. Once we get to Paestum, I can show you aerial photos of the site.” Isabella downshifted her Fiat sedan, and we accelerated into an open lane. “If you don’t mind me asking, what do you plan to do with the formula?”

  “We don’t have a plan per se,” Adella explained. “But in some manner we hope to expose the formula to the world—which I assume is in keeping with your plans regarding the scrolls.”

  “It is.”

  “Also, there’s a degree of personal motive involved—at least on my part,” Adella added. “Raven Entelechy is responsible for the deaths of some very dear friends of mine. I’d like nothing more than to see their criminal empire come tumbling down.” She looked out her window. “Making the formula public would go a long way toward making that happen.”

  • • •

  In Paestum, after a short drive down a number of narrow roads, we pulled into a gravel driveway below a palm tree and a two-story, sun-bleached yellow house.

  “This is my place,” Isabella said. “But first I’d like you to meet Antonio and Gabriel. They live above the hardware store across the street. Antonio and his brother, Sal, own the place.”

  We made our way up the wooden steps to the porch above the storefront. Colorful towels flapped in the ocean air as we stepped through the screen door to the second-floor apartment. The living room was virtually empty—just two tables and a handful of plastic chairs.

  Isabella called out something in Italian, and from down the hall two men appeared. They introduced themselves as Antonio and Gabriel. Both men were in their late twenties, in excellent shape, and, as we would soon find out, spoke fluent English.

  “So you’re the ones ruffling the Raven’s feathers.” Gabriel smiled exuberantly as he shook my hand.

  “He’s been practicing that line since yesterday,” Antonio explained apologetically. Then he looked over at Isabella, who was giving him a pointed look. “What? Oh, right.” He slapped Gabriel’s arm and tilted his head.

  Gabriel nodded—and they both bowed.

  “That’s really, really unnecessary.” I found a chair and sat down.

  “How about a picture?” Gabriel drew a phone from his pocket as fast as a gunslinger.

  “Gabriel, for the hundredth time, no pictures.” Isabella turned to us. “Our high priest has told us Raven Entelechy is monitoring all our communications. It’s part of how they’re tracking you.” She looked back at Gabriel. “So no pictures, no texts, no emails, no calls—no nothing.”

  “But ‘no nothing’ means something.” Gabriel smiled cleverly, resting a hand on Antonio’s shoulder.

  “How about a drawing, then? Can we make a drawing?” Antonio asked facetiously.

  “Not even a drawing,” Isabella said. She looked at us. “Gabriel’s the real troublemaker. But the two together? I can’t even begin to tell you. It’s exhausting.”

  “You have my sympathy,” Adella said.

  “How about some lunch?” Antonio asked, heading for the kitchen.

  We sat at one of the two tables, and moments later Antonio was serving us sandwiches, sodas, and beer. In the meantime, Gabriel had brought out four boxes from a back room and set them on the other table.

  “Gabriel’s work as a commercial pilot,” Isabella explained, “has provided us with excellent reconnaissance for Raven Entelechy’s Sito Archeologico di Velia. We also monitor their activity from the ground and on the internet.”

  Gabriel spread out the contents of the boxes—pictures, maps, and various other documents.

  “What’s Nido del Corvo mean?” I asked, reading the handwriting on the sides of the boxes.

  “The Raven’s Nest,” Isabella said. “Gabriel’s nickname for the place.” She picked up a site map and some of the photos. “We have a pretty solid accounting of their security forces, and we know their routines inside and out.” She pointed at an aerial photo of what looked like a military base. “That’s it—the Raven site.”

  “And this is the building they built over the caves?” Mary pointed at a three-story, all-black building.

  “Yes,” Gabriel said. “It’s half shrine, half fortress.”

  I looked around the room. “And this is your war room?”

  “Basically,” Isabella said.

  “For a war with these guys?” I held up the photo.

  “Well, looks can be deceiving.” Isabella glanced at Gabriel and Antonio. “There’s more to us than just this room. But you’re right. We need help. And that’s why you’re here.”

  “I don’t mean to be disrespectful,” I said, “but do you really think the three of us can just magically defeat this… army?”

  “We’ll help, of course,” Isabella said.

  I set the photo down on the mound of others.

  “You took all these pictures?” Mary asked Gabriel.

  “Most of them. Antonio’s come along a few times and taken some too.”

  “But aren’t your air routes pretty well fixed?” I asked. “How’d you manage to get over the facility?”

  “I fly small planes short distances, and the only people I have on board typically don’t do much complaining.”

  “They don’t trust him yet with living passengers.” Antonio patted Gabriel on the shoulder, and he and Isabella laughed.

  “You transport dead people?” Mary asked.

  “About eighty percent of my business is for funeral homes,” Gabriel said. “And most of those flights take me up and down the coast. So it works out perfectly.”

  “Henry and I fly a lot, too,” Mary said. “We’re skydivers.”

  Gabriel’s eyes lit up. “Really? Me too! It’s my passion.”

  “It’s his even more insane passion,” Antonio clarified.

  “I’m afraid Antonio doesn’t even like flying,” Gabriel said.

  “I don’t even like standing on the porch.”

  “Sorry to interrupt.” Adella set down her half-eaten sandwich and pointed at one of the pictures with her pinky. “There are only two gates?”

  “Yes, on the west and south sides,” Isabella said.

  “What are these?” Adella asked.

  “Guard towers.”

  “It looks like they’ve got guards in Humvees positioned around the periphery,” Adella said, “and presumably guards in the towers and on the roof.” She pointed at the black building.

  “Yes. They have men posted on the roof around the clock,” Isabella said.

  “Armed?” I asked.

  “Heavily.” Gabriel chuckled mirthlessly. “Automatic rifles. And they’re all military-trained snipers.”

  “Of course they are.” I looked out the screen door at the towels on the railing. I imagined the ocean, the sun-drenched sand between my toes. A swim sure would be nice. I picked up one of the photos. “Gabriel, these are incredibly good pictures. You don’t think they know you’ve been taking them?”

  Gabriel looked at Isabella.

  “We don’t think they know—we know they know,” she said. “They want us to know h
ow futile an attack would be.”

  “Yeah, well,” I gestured at the photos, “they have a point.”

  “It does look pretty grim from the topside,” Adella agreed. “What information do you have on the caves?”

  “Not a lot.” Isabella handed Adella a folder. “Bear in mind, this is all second- and third-hand information.”

  “Second- and third-hand?” Adella opened the folder and pulled out some hand-drawn maps.

  “It’s from accounts that go back before the war,” Isabella explained. “The caves were accessible back then, though very few ventured into them. Of course, the scrolls weren’t inside at that time. This would be before Dr. Schmaltz discovered them at the Museo Archeologico di Naples.”

  “Why did very few venture into the caves?” Mary asked.

  “Superstitions.”

  “The few who went in,” Antonio said, “reported seeing the skeletal remains of tortured individuals—”

  “Hundreds of thousands of them,” Gabriel added, a gleam in his eye.

  “Well, that makes sense.” Mary picked up one of the Raven’s Nest photos. After a moment, she looked up and saw us all staring at her. “Because of the whole road of the dead thing,” she explained.

  “Oh, right,” we all said in unison.

  We discussed the Ravens’ strengths and weaknesses, as well as the Apollonians’. The Apollonians had tens of thousands of followers, though only hundreds of them lived locally. And they had an ample cache of weapons and assault gear, though training-wise they were mere greenhorns in comparison to the Ravens. What they were—what they had become over these many years—was a team of private detectives. That’s all they did: spied on the Ravens.

  We decided that the next thing Adella, Mary, and I needed to do was go see the Raven’s Nest for ourselves. The Apollonians apparently used a remote hillside near the Velia site for their observations—a fact of which the Ravens were, no doubt, quite aware.

  “I realize you’re anxious to see the site,” Isabella said, “but we were really hoping the three of you would join us at the Celebration tonight.”

  “The Celebration?” Adella asked.

  “Twice a year we get access to the Paestum ruins for religious reasons,” Isabella explained. “So we take that opportunity to get together and discuss how Apollo has affected our lives.”