Embassy of the Empire Read online

  And this had his young, inexperienced heart aching with the loss of what should be his destiny.

  3 |

  University College London London, England Present Day, Two Days Earlier

  Terrence Mitchell stared at the test results displayed on his monitor. He had taken the samples himself, so there could be no error, yet it had to be a mistake. The genetic markers left no doubt—the sample showed that the woman was of Asian descent, with a 99% certainty that she was from a part of Asia now within modern China. Yet that was impossible, for the carbon dating results were equally conclusive, and it placed her death approximately 1800 years ago. And these two facts, along with one other critical one, made these results impossible, for her body had been unearthed only weeks ago, along with several others, in London.

  How could a Chinese woman have died over 1800 years ago in England?

  It was impossible, or at least it should have been. To this point, as far as he was aware, DNA tests had shown there had been bodies found in the past with some Asian DNA markers indicating children or grandchildren with a Chinese ancestor had lived here, though never before had an actual Chinese person been found.

  Something had to be wrong.

  His wife, Jenny, burst into the room. “You’re not going to believe this.”

  “What?”

  “I just got the results back on the other bodies, and it just doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Let me guess. They’re Chinese?”

  Her eyes widened. “Yours too?”

  “It has to be a mistake, right?”

  She shook her head. “All of them? Impossible.”

  “Could there be cross-contamination? Could all of our samples have come from the same source by mistake?”

  She wagged her tablet at him. “No, I checked that. They’re all distinct individuals. Three women were absolutely pure Chinese, or at least from that region.”

  “And the others?”

  “We’re still running tests, but some of the others showed they were children of these women based upon mitochondrial DNA, and the Y chromosome testing we were able to do on the boys showed their fathers had the typical DNA markers you would expect from a Roman of the era.”

  “So, Roman men sired children with pure Chinese women?”

  “Exactly.”

  “But how did they get here? It makes no sense.”

  Jenny shrugged. “Not to us, but maybe it might to someone else.”

  He smiled and grabbed his phone off the desk, selecting one of his contacts before putting it on speaker. It rang several times before the familiar voice of their former professor answered. “Hello, Terrence, what a pleasant surprise. How are you?”

  “I’m fine, Professor Palmer. I’m here with Jenny. We’ve got a bit of a puzzle we’d like your opinion on. Jenny is sending you some DNA and carbon dating test results now.” His wife’s fingers flew over her tablet. “You should have them in your email now. The results are, to say the least, strange.”

  “Strange in what way?”

  “I don’t want to taint your opinion with ours. Please go over them then call me back and let me know what you think.”

  “I will. Give me a few minutes and Jim and I will take a look.”

  “Thank you, Professor.”

  “Don’t you think you should be calling me Laura by now?”

  “No, ma’am, it’s never going to happen.”

  She laughed. “Very well, I’ll get back to you soon.”

  The call ended and Jenny sat beside him. “You realize this discovery is huge?”

  He nodded.

  “We’re going to be famous.”

  He gave her a look. “We’re archaeologists. The next time you’re out for drinks, ask one of your friends if they can name a single archaeologist. And Indiana Jones doesn’t count.”

  She chuckled. “I suppose you’re right. Now what do we do?”

  “We start writing a paper on what we found.”

  “Or we could go get plastered.”

  He grinned. “I like the way you think.”

  4 |

  Acton/Palmer Residence St. Paul, Maryland

  Archaeology Professor James Acton stood in front of the barbeque and checked his watch. He flipped his steaks then closed the lid, returning to the patio table where his best friend and dean of the university he taught at, Gregory Milton, sat with his wife, Sandra. Acton sat, grabbed his Corona beer, and took a long swig, enjoying the bite of the lime wedge floating amidst the light brew.

  “Those steaks smell incredible, Jim,” said Sandra.

  “Thank the cow, not me. All I do is flip ‘em.”

  She chuckled. “Anybody can flip a steak. Only an expert knows when to flip a steak.”

  He bowed his head and toasted her observation with his beer. “Wiser words were never spoken.”

  Milton grunted. “Then I’d hate to hear the conversations you’ve been participating in lately.”

  Acton laughed. “My freshman class this morning certainly seemed to be high school freshmen, not college. I don’t know what they’re teaching kids these days, but it’s certainly not what I was taught.”

  “Yeah, the basics seemed to have been tossed out the door.”

  “Maybe we just have a really shitty rowing team.”

  Milton snorted, spraying his beer. “Thank God we’re a small institution. I’d hate to be dealing with that type of garbage right now.”

  “True, your time is better spent dealing with the problems I create.”

  Milton held his beer high. “Preach.”

  Both Acton and Sandra gave him the eye and Milton’s shoulders slumped, beer lowered. “Yeah, even I heard it.”

  Acton’s wife, Archaeology Professor Laura Palmer, rushed out onto the deck, shoving an iPad in his hands. “You have to see this.”

  Acton took it and scanned what appeared to be DNA and carbon dating results. “What am I looking at?”

  “Terrence and Jenny just sent this to me.”

  “Give us the run-down. We have guests.”

  She sat. “These are DNA and carbon dating test results from their dig in London.”

  “What dig is that?” asked Milton.

  “A few months ago, they began excavations to build a new office block and found some old ruins. The excavation was halted and a team from University College London, my old institution, were sent in to examine the rooms. My former grad student, Terrence Mitchell, is leading the team.”

  “Good for him.”

  “Yes, he’s come a long way, hasn’t he?”

  “He has, indeed.” Acton held up the tablet. “So, these are test results from bodies they found, I assume?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what’s unique about them?”

  “Three of the women are Chinese.”

  Sandra took a drink. “So? That’s possible, isn’t it?”

  “They died around 200 AD.”

  Acton’s eyes shot wide, as did Milton’s. His wife stared at them. “Is that significant?”

  Acton explained. “It is. In 200 AD, England was part of the Roman Empire, and the Roman Empire had minimal contact with the Chinese.”

  Milton pointed at the barbecue and Acton jumped from his seat. “It would have been the Han Empire back then, wouldn’t it?” asked Milton.

  Acton removed the steaks from the grill. “It would have been the tail end of it, yeah.”

  “So, how did they get there?” asked Sandra.

  “That’s the $64,000 question.”

  Laura’s eyes narrowed. “64,000? That’s rather specific, isn’t it?”

  Acton patted her back as he brought the tray with the steaks to the table. “Sometimes I forget you’re British.” He sat and waved off Sandra as she leaned forward to eye the steaks. “Let the poor things rest!”

  She rolled her eyes. “Fine, Chef Ramsay. Then answer my question.”

  He flashed her a toothy smile. “Of course. The question is, like you said, how did these p
eople get there? We know there are reports that in 166 AD, I believe it was, a Roman expedition reached the capital of the Han Empire to establish the first embassy, but nobody knows what became of it until just a few months ago. Ruins were discovered during construction in China that revealed Roman architecture in the middle of what would have been the ancient capital of the Han Empire.”

  Sandra shrugged. “Perhaps there was a cultural exchange, and some returned to Rome.”

  Laura shook her head. “That wouldn’t make sense. It would if the bodies were found in Italy, but not England. You wouldn’t send an ambassadorial team from the Han Empire to the Roman Empire, then send them to the farthest reaches of Roman influence. They would be in Rome. And why send women?”

  “Could they have been slaves?” suggested Milton.

  “That’s absolutely possible, though it would be costly to transport a slave that distance. It wouldn’t make economic sense.”

  “Sex slaves? A Chinese woman would have been considered quite exotic.”

  “Again, very expensive. And how would they have encountered them?”

  Acton agreed. “And according to those reports Terrence and Jenny sent, there were three of them. One, I could believe, but three? No, there’s something more going on here.”

  Laura flipped through the reports. “And the timing is too coincidental. If they died around 200 AD, and this embassy was established in 166 AD, that’s only a thirty-four year gap. If a group did go from the Han Empire back to Rome, the question is, why would they have then gone on to England?”

  “Could they have been exiled?” suggested Milton.

  Laura nodded. “It’s a possibility, though again, why wouldn’t they return to their empire? Unless they find more evidence, it could be a mystery that’s never solved.”

  Acton glanced at Laura. “Why don’t you go over there and help them?”

  She shook her head. “No, I couldn’t do that. They would think I didn’t trust their abilities. I’ll provide advice if they ask it, and if they should want me there, I’ll of course go, but the cord has been cut and it has to remain cut.”

  Acton agreed, then his eyes widened with a smile. “Then I’ve got another idea.”

  Milton groaned. “Is this going to cause me paperwork and headaches?”

  Acton grinned. “Absolutely.”

  5 |

  Roman Diplomatic Mission Quarters Luoyang, Han Empire 166 AD

  “I think that went rather well, don’t you?”

  Lucius Seneca regarded his father, Statius, sitting across from him. “I suppose. We’re still alive.”

  His father chuckled. “Yes, that’s always a good indicator the day wasn’t entirely a failure. What’s your impression of the Emperor?”

  Lucius shrugged. “Seemed rather small to me.”

  “Indeed. They’re all rather small, aren’t they? It’s hard to believe they could be formidable in battle, which makes me question how strong an ally they might be when dealing with the Parthians.” He scratched his chin. “Though you can’t always judge a man by size alone. From the accounts of those we’ve met along the way, they certainly seem to have a reputation as capable warriors.” His father folded his arms. “The palace was impressive, wasn’t it?”

  Lucius agreed. “Quite. Very colorful.”

  “Yes, I noticed that too. We seem to tend toward whites and solid colors, especially reds. While I believe the contrast and its effect are impressive, the variations we saw today certainly gave the impression that this empire is very wealthy. Even if they should not prove to be effective warriors, a trade alliance might be fruitful.”

  “The merchants we encountered along the way certainly seemed interested in our glassware.”

  His father agreed. “You noticed that as well, did you?”

  “It was hard to miss. If our mission weren’t to establish a trade and military treaty with the Han Empire, we could have easily sold everything we brought long before we even reached here.”

  “Tomorrow, we will be showing what we have to offer to the Emperor and his people. It is essential in any future meetings that you follow my lead immediately. No more hesitations or distractions, like what happened earlier.”

  He cringed at the scolding. Until this moment, he had assumed his father had forgotten about his blunders.

  His father eyed him, a slight smile creeping from the corners of his mouth. “She’s quite beautiful, isn’t she?”

  A pit formed in his stomach and his cheeks flushed. “Sir?”

  “I may be older than you, but I’m not blind. Princess Jieyou caught my eye as well.”

  He turned away, uncomfortable.

  “But she is off-limits.”

  “I know, Father.”

  “If you were to lay even a finger on her, speak a word to her, it could mean the end of everything. All our effort, all our sacrifice, and perhaps even our lives, could be forfeit.”

  His pulse pounded in his ears at his father’s warning. “I understand, Father.”

  “Good. Then off to bed with you. These quarters they’ve provided us appear to be quite luxurious, which I hope means they are treating us as honored guests rather than nuisances.”

  “Yes, Father.” Lucius rose then bowed. He headed for the chambers assigned to him in the east wing, and they were as his father had described—luxurious. All of his personal items had already been laid out by his manservant brought from Rome, who stood waiting for him inside. He was helped out of his armor, then he dismissed the man, completing his nightly ablutions himself. He lay on the bed, finding it quite comfortable, though lower to the ground than he was accustomed to. He closed his eyes and drifted off.

  A tap at the shuttered window had him flinching awake. He dismissed it as a tree branch blowing in the wind, or some other innocuous explanation, and closed his eyes once again. Another tap in the exact same manner as the first piqued his curiosity. He rose then stepped over to the east-facing window. He opened the shutters and his heart leaped into his throat at the sight of a beautiful woman standing just below. She handed him a piece of paper then quickly scurried off. He leaned back inside and closed the shutters, then stepped over to a lamp and unfolded the piece of paper, his eyes shooting wide at what it contained.

  A map.

  6 |

  Acton/Palmer Residence St. Paul, Maryland Present Day

  “Are you sure you want to go?”

  James Acton rolled his eyes at his wife, Laura Palmer, as they both listened to Gregory Milton on speakerphone. “Of course we want to go. This is an incredible find, and could provide clues as to how Chinese women in the second century came to be living in Londinium, a Britannic settlement of the Roman Empire. We’re archaeologists. This is what we live for.”

  “Yes, but the situation in China right now isn’t good, what with all the political fighting between them and most of the world. Not to mention the rumors of something having just happened there that has the leadership spooked. I’m just questioning if now is the right time? Why not wait a few months and let things settle down?”

  Acton had read some of the conspiracy theories online about the assassination of General Zhang by Muslims, and agreed with many of those who thought what was now happening there was an over-reaction if it had indeed been some lone-wolf gunman as the Chinese had claimed. Zhang had been powerful within the Communist infrastructure, but was also considered a possible rival to the current president. Acton’s former student, CIA Special Agent Dylan Kane, was intimately familiar with China and its internal affairs, and he would make a point of speaking to him about it should he see him again in the near future.

  He returned his attention to Milton, who had continued in his attempts to talk him out of it. Acton interrupted him. “Listen, Greg, I know you’re concerned for us, and I appreciate that. But they’re not going to start randomly arresting foreign nationals.”

  “Oh, you’ve never heard of the two Michaels, Kovrig and Spavor.”

  “Who?”

&nb
sp; “They’re two Canadian citizens that have been in a Chinese prison since 2018 under trumped up charges, all because we requested that the Canadian government arrest a Huawei executive in order to extradite her.”

  Acton had no clue who they were. “Sorry, you’ve got me there. I guess it’s a good thing I’m not Canadian.”

  “Yeah, and I’m sure the Canadians thought the same thing about us. You have to remember that the Chinese are a brutal communist dictatorship that imprisons millions and murders thousands every year. Their military is belligerent and growing in power, and through coordinated intellectual property theft, they dominate technology sectors they have no business being in. International laws don’t apply to them, they don’t care about anybody but themselves, and you can be sure that when they do appear to, it’s only because they have some ulterior motives behind their charity. If you go there now, during these heightened political tensions between our two countries and whatever other internal matters that have made them more paranoid than ever, you could become a pawn in whatever game they’re playing.”

  Acton sighed. His friend was genuinely concerned for their safety, yet his friend also had a history of being in a constant state of paranoia, and always trying to talk him out of any foreign dig.

  Yet he had been right about Peru, though for all the wrong reasons.

  “We’ll be fine, but I promise the moment there’s any hint of trouble, we’ll leave, okay?”

  “There’s no talking you out of this, is there?”

  He glanced at Laura who waved her hands, removing herself from the discussion, not wanting to get between two best friends. “No,” he replied.

  “And you have all your paperwork?”

  “We do. Laura’s travel agent has taken care of all the visas and our charter has been booked. We’re leaving tomorrow.”

  “Fine. I’ve made some calls and had the two of you officially attached to the archaeological team that’s there now. That should give you a little bit of protection since you’ll be more than just tourists.”