Last Prophecy of Rome

by Iain King

  ‘Yes, I think I have,’ replied Placidia, nodding. ‘He’s killed fewer people because of me. I’ve made him help poor migrants from all over Africa. I’ve done far more good than if I’d stayed on the East Coast of the States working for some charity, or complaining about things.’

  She could see that Myles was unconvinced.

  ‘Think of it this way, Myles – other people work for NGOs like Doctors Against Disease, or Mothers against Drunk Drivers,’ she explained. ‘Well, I’ve created Pirates against Poverty, and it’s saved many, many more lives.’

  The conversation fell silent while they both thought.

  Placidia moved in her seat, putting her hand through her hair. ‘So Myles. This is a historical question, and you’re a historian, right?’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Do you think we might have become a proper couple at university?’

  Myles squinted, trying to understand where Placidia was coming from. ‘Historically, Placidia, I wanted that,’ he said, trying to be honest while he hid his emotions at the same time. ‘As I remember, it was you who didn’t. You never had time for me. Your campaigns to change the world were always too important.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  Myles shrugged, pretending it no longer mattered to him. But he still needed to say more. ‘You know, when I read about you leaving Oxford I wrote you letters, but you never replied.’

  Placidia shook her head blankly. ‘I never received them.’

  Myles raised his eyebrows, surprised. Part of him wanted to tell her what he’d written. To replay his emotions, now he was finally with her. But he couldn’t. ‘If you had received them,’ he asked, ‘would you have behaved any differently?’

  She paused before pulling a face which said she probably would have ignored the letters anyway. ‘I was an arrogant young girl in those days, Myles. We only recognise our flaws after they’ve done their damage.’

  ‘Sometimes our flaws keep doing damage.’

  ‘Sometimes,’ she accepted, pausing again. ‘Did you really send me letters?’

  Myles didn’t need to answer her question – his face had answered already. Yes, of course he’d sent them.

  Placidia looked mournful. For the first time in their meeting, Myles felt truly sorry for her. Had her entire life turned on a failure to receive his messages? Perhaps – many other people’s lives turn on less. But someone as gifted as Placidia? Someone with all the wonderful opportunities she had? Could she really have been that vulnerable?

  Placidia moved her legs in a gesture which was half flirtatious, half hopeless.

  Myles wanted to hold her. But he still couldn’t forgive her for what she was doing now. ‘Placidia: was it you who planted files on the Special Forces raid onto my laptop?’

  Myles looked straight at Placidia, who stared back in return. They gazed at each other for a long time, both refusing to surrender.

  Then she broke off the competition and turned to her desk. Pulling open a drawer, she removed an old scrap of paper, which she carefully unfolded and passed to Myles. Myles read the handwritten words. It was his handwriting.

  He remembered that piece of paper. He couldn’t really argue with it. She read it out, just to make her point understood. ‘“Doing the right thing can sometimes be wrong”.’

  ‘Yes, Myles, those files passed through this computer,’ she admitted. ‘We had help from a computer guy in Las Vegas. It was wrong, but it was done for very good reasons.’ She could see Myles was sceptical. ‘You don’t believe me?’

  ‘No, Placidia, I do not,’ answered Myles, his heart still pumping too fast for him to behave normally. ‘Those files caused me to be arrested, questioned, shot at in court…’

  ‘I didn’t send the hitman.’

  Myles stopped. He checked her face. She seemed to believe what she was saying.

  ‘So who did send him?’

  ‘My husband, Juma. I didn’t want you to…’

  ‘To die? To be killed?’ Myles offered.

  ‘No. I tried everything,’ she pleaded. ‘I tried as hard as I could to persuade Juma not to send that man. But Juma sent him anyway.’

  Myles understood. ‘So marrying a powerful psychopath doesn’t always allow you to do good, then?’

  ‘No, it doesn’t,’ she accepted. ‘Not always, no.’ She changed her tone, from defensive to apologetic. ‘I’m glad you managed to escape, Myles.’

  ‘I’ve been on the run ever since. Almost a week now.’

  ‘Myles, you do understand: if I hadn’t uploaded those files onto your computer, you’d be in even greater danger. Probably dead.’

  Myles looked at her squarely. ‘Explain.’

  Placidia shook her head. ‘If I did that, it would cost more lives.’

  Myles squinted sceptically at her. ‘So you’re saying, you can’t tell me who wants to kill me because it’ll cost lives.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘My life or the lives of others?’ asked Myles.

  ‘Both.’

  ‘How many others?’

  Placidia shrugged. ‘I can’t say.’

  ‘Can’t say or won’t say?’ asked Myles, frustrated.

  ‘Both… Look Myles,’ she said, trying to level with him, ‘there are just some things it’s best not to know. This is one of them.’

  Myles shook his head – he wasn’t letting it go. ‘Tell me: who wants me dead?’

  ‘OK. My husband wants you dead,’ Placidia admitted.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because it’ll make him look strong to his men. Because we knew each other at university... Because he’s mad, I suppose,’ she shrugged again. ‘There might be other reasons, too.’

  ‘Thank you. Why couldn’t you tell me that before?’

  ‘Myles, there are more important things than this.’ She was pleading now, desperate to be believed.

  ‘More important than someone trying to kill me?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. She was nodding, and her face seemed very sincere. ‘Don’t you see? The whole of civilisation really is at stake here.’

  ‘From Juma?’

  Placidia refused to answer directly. ‘All I can say, Myles, is that this is the most idealist cause I’ve ever worked for.’

  Fifty-One

  Galla Security Offices, Iraq

  Myles realised Placidia was serious. ‘OK, Placidia,’ he said. ‘So what’s the most important thing, then?’

  Placidia invited Myles to come towards the desk, while she turned on one of the computers. Slowly the machine made noises to indicate it was booting up.

  ‘This is just a normal PC,’ she said. ‘We got the software from the man in Las Vegas. It’s all quite easy, really.’ She clicked the mouse over to an unnamed folder, which opened. Inside she clicked on a file marked ‘Senate Dump’. ‘This programme…’ Her words trailed off as she concentrated on the keyboard. A box appeared on the screen with the options ‘Start’ or ‘Cancel’. Placidia moved the mouse over to ‘Start’ and clicked.

  She paused to check the programme was working, then seemed satisfied that it was. ‘Done,’ she announced. ‘I’ve just started a programme which puts images of naked children onto the personal computers of fifty-five US Senators.’

  Myles was aghast.

  Placidia offered to explain. ‘It’s not all the Senators. Just those who voted against the recent immigration bill – the ones who made it harder for Africans to settle in the United States. In a few days I’ll let the media know and they’ll investigate.’

  ‘But nobody’s going to believe half the US Senate is into…’ Myles could barely bring himself to say it, ‘…into that.’

  ‘You think? They believed the files about the Navy Seal operation on your computer.’

  ‘But that was just me,’ said Myles. ‘Not a bunch of highly respected Senators.’

  Placidia shook her head. ‘Myles, Congress is decadent. Everyone knows it.’

  She could see Myles was still in shock.

  ‘You don�
��t understand how bad it’s got, do you?’ said Placidia. ‘Like ancient Rome, America started as a republic and a democracy. But they’ve been bought. Senators spend their time sucking up to people with money who can fund their campaigns. Like Rome, the system has become corrupted.’

  ‘But Placidia…’

  ‘Power without responsibility,’ insisted Placidia, refusing to allow Myles to interrupt. ‘Just like Roman senators before their empire collapsed – decadence comes before decline.’

  ‘They’ll trace how the files were uploaded – just as Helen found the files on my computer were from here,’ said Myles.

  ‘I’ve found ways to do it differently now. There are better ways to hide the IP addresses. It’ll look as though the Senators browsed the web and downloaded the files themselves.’

  Myles still couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ‘Look, Placidia… I know you have a…a very unique sense of right and wrong. But what can be right about putting sexual images of children onto the computers of Senators? Some of them are good men and women. If they’re found with child porn they’ll be locked up.’

  ‘You were locked up because of what I put on your computer and, believe me, it saved your life,’ she said, smiling. ‘It’s true, Myles. Putting child porn on Senators’ PCs will save lives too.’

  ‘Someone’s trying to kill the Senators?’

  ‘No. Other people’s lives. The lives of African people, who die every day. The reputations of a few Senators for thousands of lives. African lives – I know they count for a lot less than American lives…’

  ‘But, Placidia, that’s…just wrong.’ Myles was struggling. He tried to define exactly what was bad about Placidia’s ‘Senate Dump’ programme: ‘OK. Let’s just suppose that this plan works,’ he said. ‘The fifty or so Senators who voted to keep immigrants out of their country get discovered with child porn on their computers. They have to resign and new ones come in. It doesn’t mean new laws will get passed.’

  ‘No, but it makes it more likely.’

  ‘What would you say to a Senator who worked really hard for the people in his state? He’s done nothing wrong, no scandal, nothing. Then he has to resign over child pornography.’

  Placidia raised her chin, looking unashamed. ‘I’d say, he shouldn’t vote to condemn many thousands, perhaps millions of people, to their deaths, by denying them the right to settle in America. Sometimes you have to break a rule to save the system of rules – to save the principles which made Western civilisation.’

  Myles shook his head. He just couldn’t accept her logic. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and tried to exhale deeply. Fury and long-buried emotions made it hard for him to focus.

  Placidia looked at him, concerned. Her voice became quiet again. ‘Myles, there’s more at stake here than even the lives of thousands of people who want to become US citizens. Do you know what happened to the Empire’s population when Rome collapsed?’

  Myles looked blank – he didn’t know.

  ‘The population collapsed, too,’ explained Placidia. ‘To just one-twentieth of what it had been. Nineteen out of every twenty people just couldn’t survive any more. And the end of the Roman Empire brought about the Dark Ages. Knowledge was thrown away,’ she said, using her hands to emphasise the point. ‘Cities disintegrated. Life everywhere became more basic, more brutal...’

  ‘And you think that’s about to happen again now?’

  ‘It’s happening already. Myles, I did a lot of research to find out what brought down the Roman Empire.’

  Myles nodded. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘I tried to get hold of your thesis, but couldn’t.’

  ‘There’ll be a reason for that.’ She smiled. ‘Look at this,’ she said, turning to the computer and double-clicking on another icon. This time a home-made video appeared. It started with Placidia walking around some Roman ruins, then faded to black as nine words appeared on the screen:

  The Decline of America and the Fall of Rome.

  Myles peered intently at the screen. It was another of Placidia’s public broadcasts – half history lesson, half taunting terrorist propaganda. ‘Is this going to be released soon?’ he asked.

  ‘In a few days,’ said Placidia, her eyes fixed on the screen.

  The words faded and the picture returned. Placidia was stepping between fallen stone columns in an abandoned Roman town. Apart from some weeds which had taken over the collapsed architecture, she was the only living thing in the picture. She began speaking to the camera. ‘When we look back at history, we try to explain what happened,’ she said. ‘Rarely do we ask how things could have been different. The people who went through the amazing events of the past were often surprised by them. Most people thought things would continue as they always had done. Then, as now, most big changes were only visible with hindsight – after they happened.’

  Placidia turned to Myles for approval. Myles was too engrossed to return her glance. He kept watching the video.

  The Placidia on the screen was opening her arms, pointing at the collapsed architecture around her. ‘This used to be a vibrant Roman city,’ she explained. ‘It had commerce and government. It could afford great monuments. The people had baths and public games. It could even afford to send its sons off as soldiers to fight in the Middle East. Rome – like modern America – had the greatest army on earth.’

  The video cut to some graffiti on one of the Roman stones. Placidia’s voice continued as voiceover: ‘None of these Romans expected their civilisation to collapse. But collapse it did, suddenly and completely.’

  Then Placidia spoke squarely to the camera. ‘I’m warning you that America could very soon face the same fate.’

  The picture cut to a graph labelled ‘US Share of World Trade’. The line peaked in the late 1960s at just over half, then tumbled down in the subsequent years. ‘Just like the Romans, you are losing your dominance of world trade…’ came the voiceover.

  A second graph labelled ‘US Social Mobility’ appeared. Again, it showed a clear downward trend. ‘The Roman Emperor Diocletian passed laws which made men take on the same occupations as their fathers,’ the voiceover continued. ‘In modern America, it is college fees and the who-you-know economy which mean the best jobs stay in the same families more than ever.’

  Next came a graphic labelled ‘US – real median income’. It was a bumpy flat line, declining slightly since the late 1970s. ‘Rome, just like modern America, used to say it was getting richer every year. But towards the end, only the rich got richer in Rome, just like in modern America. To buy a home and a car and their groceries, most Americans now need to work harder than they used to thirty or forty years ago. And it’s going to get worse, not better…’

  The video cut back to Placidia, walking pensively through the Roman ruins. ‘Some people think that Rome was brought down by lead poisoning or the plague, or by barbarians rampaging through the streets of the capital. Some say it was a costly war with the Persians in Mesopotamia – modern-day Iraq and Syria. Some blame the decision to make Christianity its official state religion, because until just a few years before it fell, the Romans had been careful to separate Church and State…’

  Then Placidia spoke straight to the camera. ‘But what really changed was its people. Roman people became different. Rome was built by citizens who were prepared to sacrifice everything for their empire. By the time it collapsed, crowds were pleading for permission to eat human flesh. The Romans had become cruel and selfish. Some said they deserved to die out…’

  Pictures of great Roman buildings appeared like a series of holiday photographs. ‘It is my belief that most Romans would have become better people if they knew what was coming to them,’ she speculated. ‘And the same is true of America today. Most Americans are addicted to things they don’t need – huge houses, holidays, take-away food. And they’re determined to keep out non-Americans who are prepared to work really hard for just a small part of what Americans can enjoy. You’re not even helping us enjoy an Americ
an way of life in Africa. Just condemning us to death. And what you don’t realise is that really you’re condemning yourselves to death.’

  Placidia reappeared on the screen to conclude her remarks. ‘There are lots more similarities between the end of Rome and the forthcoming end of the United States. You’ll find out the biggest one in just a few days. My point is,’ said Placidia, her tone making clear she was about to conclude, ‘it’s not inevitable. You can change it. Tell your Senators to reach out to people like us. Please, help us survive. Because, if you do not, then your country will die next.’

  Placidia’s haunting image slowly disappeared from view as the picture faded away.

  Myles silently watched the video close, stunned by what he had seen.

  Eventually he turned to Placidia. ‘So that’s why you think the Roman Empire collapsed? The people just became too cruel and selfish?’

  Placidia tilted her head and raised her eyebrows. She was pondering. ‘It’s a big reason,’ she accepted. ‘Look at adverts on American TV today – and in Europe, too. Most of them ridicule someone and say ‘buy this product to feel superior’. No advertiser could sell something because it was good for civilisation. Even patriotism has gone out of fashion. And when they sell something that’s good for charity or the environment, they just offer to make people feel smug. “Ask what you can do for your country” became “ask what your country can do for you”,’ quoted Placidia, well aware she was reversing one of President Kennedy’s most famous phrases.

  ‘And it was like that in ancient Rome?’ asked Myles.

  ‘Yes. In the early days, people were proud to fight for Rome. People made sacrifices for their civilisation. By the end they were cutting off their thumbs to avoid the draft. Everybody felt they deserved wealth and security, but no one would work for it.’

  Myles was still sceptical. There was something she wasn’t saying. ‘So you think that by doing all this – sending a car-bomb to Wall Street, poisoning people, digging up the plague – you can make Americans come together again?’

  ‘It wasn’t the plague,’ interrupted Placidia. ‘I made sure those men dug up something else – an illness they had been vaccinated against. And it was a disease which wouldn’t have survived underground anyway.’