The Medici Letters: The Secret Origins of the Renaissance

by Taylor Buck

  Earlier that morning, Jack received a phone call from Dean McDermott of Wellesley College. It was a short voicemail but the message was clear; the history department at Wellesley wanted him back. They needed someone that could offer creative and stimulating ways to inspire the students. They needed a proven leader. The Dean said what they needed most was Professor Cullen. A flattering proposition—at least Jack thought so initially. However, he took it with a grain of salt. Especially coming from the same Dean who had laid him off 6 months prior. The original conversation was still fresh in Jack’s mind. McDermott was regretful about laying him off but claimed that the board of directors had “strongly insisted” he follow through with it. It wasn’t a matter of personal preference it was a matter of “preserving the academy’s good name.” Jack found the news difficult to not take personally. He felt wrongly sentenced by what had transpired. But he didn’t dwell on it, he learned from it. There were certainly times when he missed it deeply…teaching in the grand lecture halls, the intellectual conversations and stimulating discussions with his students.

  All over a book, he thought.

  Jack looked in the rearview mirror at the line of cars behind him—impatient mothers were beginning to poke their heads out of their windows. He caught his reflection in the mirror and couldn’t help but notice how much gray had filled his dark hair. It didn’t bother him, just caught him by surprise as it looked considerably more peppered than he remembered.

  Now 41, Jack had started graying in his early 30s—which he supposed was probably premature. Then again, he wasn’t sure if there was a specific age when hair was acceptable to turn. The gray mixed with the black created a salt-and-pepper texturing that his wife, Kathleen, deemed distinguished and sexy. As long as she liked it… that was all that mattered anyway. Kathleen didn’t seem concerned by physical appearances at all—a trait Jack loved. Of course Kat was blessed with a natural beauty that most women would die for. She had an effortless elegance, like Julia Roberts—innate and given. On top of her natural allure, Kat rarely wore makeup and somehow seemed to maintain an athletic physique despite sporadic trips to the gym. Some might deem it unfair, but it was just who she was.

  Jack, on the other hand, worked hard to stay fit. He was faithful with his exercise, which he attributed to his restless personality. His weekly regimen of cycling and interval training kept him in great shape, especially considering the stereotype associated with university professors—old, portly and pretentious. Jack was the opposite—athletic and lean. He had a sinewy build, which together with his young face and remarkably azure eyes made him appear more like a student than an actual professor. In fact, this specific association happened more often then he cared to divulge.

  The sound of laughter grabbed Jack’s attention as he noticed the heavyset boy had again dropped his books. Jack saw two boys in the front of the group stop to watch the poor kid gather his books. Not help—just watch. They didn’t offer to assist at all. Instead the taller boy took out a cell phone and began taking pictures. What the hell? He rolled down his window and leaned his head out just as the volunteer intervened with a sharp whistle blow and a disapproving stare. The boys quickly moved along. Jack leaned back in and checked his watch—a simple Timex in a steel casing that his wife bought for his birthday 10 years ago. It wasn’t expensive or overly decorative; it was dependable which was exactly why he liked it. Two o’clock, on the dot. Jack scanned the intersection studiously to find an alternate route. He had an important pickup to make and didn’t want to be late.

  The school kids safely crossed to the opposite sidewalk and the volunteer in the safety vest moved aside, directing Jack past. He drove around the safety cones and continued, passing a large red herringbone patterned brick wall. A schoolyard soon came into view and Jack pulled his Volvo sedan along the curb just as a young redhead wearing a school uniform and a bright yellow and pink backpack bounced cheerfully down the steps.

  “Daddy!”

  “Hey, sweetie!”

  Jack walked around the side of the car and opened the door for her. “After you, my princess,” he said practicing his best courtly impression.

  “Thanks Dad,” she said smiling.

  Jack closed her door and got in the car. He pulled away from the curb vigilantly scanning for any nearby youngsters.

  “No soccer practice today, huh?”

  “Nope. Coach Carrie is sick. Mrs. Hayes told me she got food poisoning.”

  “Oh,” Jack replied. “That’s not good.”

  The young girl scrunched her nose and donned a look of concern. “Does that mean she’s gonna die?”

  “No, no,” Jack said trying to contain his amusement. “That just means she ate something bad. I’m sure she will be alright, sweetie.”

  “Wait…so she wasn’t poisoned?”

  “Not like you’re thinking she was.”

  “Oh…okay.”

  Jack could see his daughter from the rearview mirror, her animated eyebrows still pondering the question. The sound of a phone ringing came in over the car speakers. Jack pressed the answer button.

  “Dr. Livingstone, I presume?”

  “Very funny Jack,” responded Kat.

  “Mommy!” yelled the 7 year old from the backseat.

  “Hey! How’s my Anna Banana?”

  “Good. I don’t have soccer today. Coach Carrie was poisoned.”

  “What!”

  “She has food poisoning,” Jack clarified.

  “Oh…I see. Well I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure she’ll be okay, Anna.”

  Anna nodded along, still somewhat confused on all the details.

  “Is your sister there too?”

  “No,” replied Jack. “Valerie is staying at Jenna Bingham’s house tonight. They’re having a sleepover.”

  “Okay. Have you talked with Jenna’s parents?”

  “I tried calling but they’re answering machine said they’re out of town.”

  “Jack!”

  “I’m kidding. Yes, I called Jenna’s parents. They assured me that the girls are with them tonight. They’re not going anywhere without permission.”

  “Okay, good.”

  “How’s everything going over there?”

  Kathleen let out a long sigh. “Good—really good.” Jack could tell she was stressed by the way she responded.

  “Are you sure? You sound a little frazzled.”

  “No, I’m fine, really.” Kathleen paused. “It’s just that something’s come up and I’m going to have to stay a few more days.”

  “Something good or something bad?”

  “Something good. Actually…something amazing. You wouldn’t believe what we’ve found here. Especially you.” Jack took that to mean she had discovered something relating to Classical Antiquity—his field of study.

  “I’m intrigued,” Jack replied. “And what exactly did you find?”

  Kathleen paused on the other side. “Go ahead and get Anna home first then give me call. We’ll talk about it later.”

  “Okay. I remain hanging in the balance of wonder,” he said facetiously.

  “Thanks honey. I promise I’ll fill you in on everything.”

  “Mommy? Have you seen Pinocchio yet? Dad said he lives in Italy.”

  “That’s right! In fact he lived in Florence. Right where I was.”

  Anna grinned excitedly at the news.

  “Unfortunately, I haven’t seen Pinocchio yet. I’ll keep an eye out for him though.”

  “Okay, let me know if you see him,” Anna said.

  Jack winked at her through the rearview mirror.

  “I miss you guys so much,” Kathleen said with an ache in her voice. “I’ll be back in just a few more days, ok?”

  “We miss you too, honey,” Jack said.

  “Bye Anna Banana!”

  “Bye Mom!”

  “Talk to you tonight, honey,” Jack said and hung up the phone.

  Anna stared out the window. Her red curls reflected back at he
r and she drew circles around her freckled cheeks.

  “Dad?”

  “Yeah sweetie?”

  “Is Mom coming home soon?”

  “Yeah, Anna. You heard her. She’ll be back before you know it.”

  Anna rested her head against the window. “Okay,” she said softly. “I really miss her.”

  “I know, sweetie. It won’t be long now.”

  “Okay.”

  Jack turned into a subdivision and passed an ornate sign, which read: Wilshire Estates. He pulled into the gated driveway and drove up a winding path to their house at 483 Everly Drive.

  CHAPTER 2

  THE CULLEN HOUSE

  SEPTEMBER 5

  VALERIE CULLEN ENTERED THROUGH the kitchen door to the smell of buttered pancakes. Jack was blending fruit smoothies and Anna was feeding her American Girl doll at the table. Jack powered off the blender. “Hey Val!”

  “Hi Dad,” Valerie said with a smile and dropped her overnight bag by the door. She gave her dad a quick hug and took a seat next to Anna at the table.

  “How was the sleepover?”

  “Good. We watched a movie in the Bingham’s tent in their backyard.”

  “Really?” asked Jack. “That sounds adventurous. Did you make it all night out there?”

  “No way. We got freaked out and came inside at like 10.”

  Jack smiled warmly. “I kind of figured. You hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  “Sit down. I’ve got fresh smoothies and pancakes made.” Jack set out the place servings and dished up the breakfast. He noticed Anna mixing her smoothie together with her milk. She was using a straw as a suction device to carry the liquid between the two cups.

  “Whatcha’ making there, Anna?” Jack inquired.

  “An Aunty Don’t,” she said proudly.

  Valerie looked at her sister with a look of confusion. “Aunty Don’t?”

  “Yeah. That’s what you give people who have been poisoned. I’m making it for Coach Carrie.”

  “I think you mean antidote,” Jack said amused.

  “Yeah…” Anna said widening her big blue eyes. “Aunty Don’t.” She continued mixing the liquids together.

  Valerie looked at her dad and rolled her eyes. They both chuckled quietly.

  Jack loved spending time with his daughters. For the past two weeks it had been just the three of them. Kathleen had been frequenting Italy the past few months for a project and since Jack was away from work, he was able to cover each time she left. In fact, Jack had become quite the stay-at-home father. He had the girls’ schedules down to a routine and managed to juggle all of the school functions and recreational activities. There were certainly challenges living among three very intelligent (and opinionated) women. When Kathleen was home, discussions usually ended in a 3-to-1 ruling with the girls joining forces and Jack being the odd man out. He was used to it. Life amongst the opposite sex was almost all he knew. Females surrounded him at home and at work. Keeping afloat in a sea of estrogen, he had once referred to it. His prior job at Wellesley College placed him among the opposite sex entirely.

  Wellesley College, a prestigious and highly selective college for women, had produced some of the most influential female global leaders in the world. Notable alums included Madeleine Albright, Cokie Roberts, Diane Sawyer and Hillary Rodham Clinton. It also happened that Jack’s wife was a Wellesley grad. The faculty there teemed with professors of the highest grade, and Jack had been among the most recognized. For 8 years he had led the history department and nurtured the curriculum there. His professional title was Classicist and Historian of Greek and Roman History, Ancient Religion and Warfare—however Jack, finding the lengthy title somewhat indulgent, would tell most people he was simply a Classicist. In layman’s terms he was an expert in all things related to ancient western history. He held his esteemed position at the school until last spring, when a polemic book he wrote entitled Heroes of Old, Men of Renown turned his career topsy-turvy.

  The book seemed to directly infringe on the viewpoint that Wellesley College held on universal history, one they had maintained for years. The topics explored became a source of controversy among the “classicist elite,” and Jack gained notoriety in the local press. As a result, Wellesley College became the source of scrutiny due to being Jack’s employer, and the board of directors forced Dean McDermott to cut ties. Within a few weeks Jack lost his position at the college.

  Despite the controversy within the classicist community, Jack’s book was critically acclaimed. The steady sales revenue helped dampen the blow of his layoff, but it was barely above a sustainable income. On the plus side, he was offered many lecture opportunities at academic conventions and art history seminars. But best of all, it freed him up to spend more time with his family, which was probably the best thing for him. The book turned out to be not only a turning point in his career, but also an adjustment in life for him, his wife and their two girls. However, he couldn’t help but wonder where life would have led had he not written it. After all, he had thoroughly enjoyed his position as a professor at an esteemed academy. It was odd being let go from tenure he had held for so long. It was also strange to be at the center of a controversial topic.

  Overall, Jack had dealt well with the storm. He was thick-skinned and molded from ironclad principles his father had drilled into him at a young age—respect, honor and discipline…the 3 things you can’t avoid growing up in a military family. Jack’s father, James Theodore Cullen, had worked in the Pentagon until he developed throat cancer at the age of 63. An accomplished man, he was a retired Marine and a war hero. Decisive action in Operation Desert Storm during the Gulf War earned him the nickname The Watchman, along with a Medal of Distinguished Service for combat leadership. James T. Cullen was a man known for his tenacity and ability to quarterback tactical units into covert locations. A strategist—hard working, fierce and stubborn…but also an elusive member at the dinner table. In fact, Jack rarely saw his father growing up. They had somewhat of a rough and tumble relationship, but despite the old man’s shortfalls, he taught Jack how to stand up for himself and share his mind—a trait that Jack utilized on a daily basis with students. He excelled in debate and won most arguments, matched only when he intellectually jousted with Kathleen. Her brilliant mind soared far above his, and he would be the first to admit it. Of course, that was what attracted him to her. That was also what made her an appealing and valuable target for government intelligence.

  Before finishing graduate school, Kathleen received interest from two select intelligence branches—the National Geospatial-Intelligence Agency and the National Reconnaissance Office. Her thesis entitled Geophysical and Maritime Subsurface Exploration—The Future of Global Surveillance became the unofficial reference manual for the NRO. They offered her a top position, which she politely refused in order to complete a PhD. In the end, she pursued the dream she had as a young girl—the only thing she ever wanted to be—an archaeologist.

  After receiving her doctorate in computer science and anthropology early from Wellesley College, she worked in the Anthro Lab at Harvard for a year until a man named Kent Billingsley approached her. He talked about the future of archaeology and how computers would one day be able to navigate every square inch of our amazing planet, inside and out. He told her about the initiatives his company was working on—how they were discovering a world within a world beneath the very ground we stood on. Then he revealed the company he represented—TerraTEK Industries, the most sophisticated aerial and subsurface surveillance systems company in the world. He offered her a position there. She accepted.

  That was 9 years ago.

  Since then the company took off like a rocket. In only a few years it had gone from a startup company in a Boston garage to a multi-national corporation with its hi-tech digits in everything from government satellite imaging to automated surveillance robotics to subsurface analysis. In 2005, in an effort to enhance homeland security, TerraTEK was acquired by The Nation
al Geospatial Intelligence Agency (NGSA)—one of the Big Five intelligence agencies run by the federal government. This repositioning exponentially expanded the global opportunities previously considered to be Kent Billingsley’s pipe dream. Besides increasing their R&D revenue stream to an unimaginable figure, the Department of Defense also commissioned an entire TerraTEK division for subsurface reconnaissance. Kathleen worked as an analyst to the GPR, Ground Penetrating Radar, division based on her background in archaeology and computer programming. Her understanding of the programs and ability to decipher subsurface image scans was unparalleled. Within 6 months she surpassed her peers and became the resident expert.

  Currently, she held the position of Chief Image Analyst at TerraTEK. It came with a generous salary and she got to do what she loved. Though among the upper echelon, Kat still frequented fieldwork projects for on-site consulting…only because she couldn’t stand being cooped up in an office. She thrived in the outdoors, digging in the dirt with her hands just as she did as a girl growing up in Arizona. Archaeology was her life—a therapy. Discovering relics became her passion, and that was what brought her to Italy.

  Kathleen was in Florence scanning ancient tunnels and substructures as a commissioned job for the Florence city council. Billingsley had sent Kathleen and her colleague, Dr. Gareth Foley, to decipher the scans. Besides getting paid to work in an art aficionado’s paradise, they got to test out some new equipment and analyze the results in a real world environment. Foley was testing his new MOTSUs (mobile operated terrain scanning units) and Kathleen was fine-tuning the communication software. The project had started 3 months ago and Kat had been back home to visit only twice. She had wanted to come more often but Foley was insistent, strongly relying on her participation at every phase of the dig. Jack knew it was extremely difficult for Kat to be away from the family, especially their 2 daughters. It was difficult for them too. Their entire summer had been spent away from their mom. It was temporary though, and Kat continually reassured Jack the dig was nearly finished.