Projection (22 page)

Nick looked at her sideways. “The girl lost both of her parents, Ariel. And the people taking care of her are certifiable.”

“Michelle and Rob? I thought you loved Rob.”

“That dude’s weird, man. I used to think he was cool, but lately … I don’t know.”

Ariel sat straight and twisted in the seat. “How is he weird? Did something happen?”

He turned his head away so that she couldn’t look him in the eye. “He’s just … I don’t know. He’s been acting really strange. He keeps talking about this secret he wants to share with me. It’s creeping me out.”

Now her heart was racing. “Did he say anything else?”

Nick shook his head. “Not really.”

“What do you think it is?”

“I don’t know. All I know is that he’s gotta figure out a way to leave Michelle. He’s always talking about how trapped he is, how she makes him feel like a caged animal. Dude’s gonna completely lose his shit if he doesn’t find a way to get out of there soon.”

“Why doesn’t he just leave her?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. It hadn’t occurred to her that Nick might have the answers she was looking for.

Nick smirked. “Money, for one thing. He hasn’t had a real job, in like, ever.”

“For one thing,” Ariel repeated. “Is there another thing?”

Nick looked uncomfortable, as if he’d been caught telling a lie. “He made me swear not to say anything.”

Ariel held her breath. She was on to something here, she could feel it. There was a reason why Gretchen had a file on Michelle, and she was about to find out what it was.

“Come on, Nick,” she urged. “I’m not going to say anything.”

“Do you promise? Because if Jessica finds out about this, Rob will be pissed
off
.”

“I get it. I swear I will not say anything to Jessica or to anyone else.”

Nick let out a resigned sigh, as if he knew that he was about to make a huge mistake. “Okay. So, we were hanging out at the Club over the summer one day, and it was happy hour and he starts drinking, and he gets, like, totally shitfaced. And all of a sudden he starts to cry. And I’m, like, ‘Dude, what’s up with you?’ And he tells me that he wants to leave Michelle but he’s too afraid, because she’s so unpredictable,
and he doesn’t ever know what she might do. He made it sound like she’s unstable, you know? And I’m like, ‘Dude, it can’t be that bad. If you want to leave her, you just have to do it, and whatever she does won’t be your problem anymore.’ ”

Ariel nodded. “Makes sense.”

Nick shook his head. “But he’s all, no, you don’t understand, it’s not that simple. And then he tells me how they got in this fight once, a few years ago, I think. He told her that he wanted to leave her, and she was all, yeah, with what money? And he was, like, with your money. ’Cause California’s a community property state or whatever, so she would have to pay him alimony for, like, ten years, I think. And she got all calm and quiet, and she told him that if he ever even thought about trying to leave her, she would kill him. And he said that she wasn’t just saying it as an expression. She meant it.” He finally turned to look her in the eye. “For real.”

Gemina was already sitting
in the garden, staring down the hillside at the glittering marble of Rome by the time Amphiclea arrived for breakfast. It had been three days since Plotinus had gotten himself imprisoned, and Castricius had shown no sign of changing his mind to help them.

Amphiclea felt sick to her stomach as she took in Plotinus’s hunched figure.
Oh, my poor Gemina
, she thought.
Trapped in that old man’s body
.

“Good morning,” Amphiclea said, hoping that her voice sounded more cheerful than she felt. Her husband Kleitos had agreed right away to allow little Gaia to stay with them while her mother was in jail, but it had taken some convincing before he had agreed to allow Plotinus to stay as well. Amphiclea didn’t dare tell him the truth for fear that he might react the way Castricius did, but ultimately, she’d been persuasive.

He’s dedicated his life to philosophy
, she’d argued.
He has no way to live without patrons
. And when that didn’t work, she’d appealed to his insecurities.
He’s a great philosopher, known
throughout all of Rome and Greece. It can only help your reputation to be associated with him. People will think so highly of us—of you! Do you remember how all the senators and scholars clamored to be invited to Castricius’s dinner table, all so they could engage with Plotinus? That could be us! Think of it: the Aristons, exclusive patrons of the brilliant Plotinus
.

Kleitos had sent for Plotinus to be moved in the very next afternoon.

“Good morning,” Gemina answered, allowing a weak smile to cross Plotinus’s pale lips. She turned back to where she’d been staring, and Amphiclea soon saw that she hadn’t been looking out at all of Rome. Rather, she was watching Gaia toddling through the grass beyond them with one of Amphiclea’s young servants.

“She doesn’t want to play with me,” Gemina said flatly without turning to look at Amphiclea. “She doesn’t know that I’m her mother.”

Amphiclea’s eyes welled up with tears. Though she didn’t yet have a child, this, she knew, was a fate worse than death. She put her hand on Plotinus’s thin shoulder. “We’ll get it straightened out, Gemina. We’ll get you back to yourself, and she’ll know you once again. I promise.”

Gemina turned to look at her, and Amphiclea was taken aback by the familiar blaze of her best friend’s eyes, staring out through Plotinus’s face. “And then what?” she asked. “I spend the rest of my life in jail, and she’ll know me only through metal bars?”

Amphiclea swallowed. She’d considered this herself, of course, but wouldn’t allow the thought to take residence. “Let’s get you back to yourself,” Amphiclea said, trying to sound reassuring, “and then we can worry about gaining your freedom.”

“How, Amphiclea? Castricius won’t help me. He won’t even speak to me. What do you propose we do?”

Amphiclea took a deep breath, then spoke the words she’d spent the whole night before convincing herself of. “Plotinus got you both into this mess for believing that women are just as strong as men. It might not be legal for him to have written what he did, but he’s not wrong, Gemina. We don’t need Castricius. We can do this ourselves.” She reached across the table and placed her hand over Gemina’s. “I have a plan.”

Amphiclea walked hurriedly to
the jail, holding a small lantern in front of her to light the way. In the dark, every noise seemed amplified and threatening, every lamp in every window seemed pointed at her. She put her hand inside the bag she carried—something she’d been doing every few moments since she left her house—and fingered the coins inside. She’d told Kleitos yesterday that she needed some extra money for the market, and he’d given it to her without question, just as she knew he would. He may not be a handsome man, she thought, but he was generous, and he treated her well.

Amphiclea turned the corner, feeling her whole body stiffen and heat up as the dark, looming jail building came into view. She held the lantern she was carrying up high, lowered it for a count of ten, then held it up high again. She did this two more times. A moment later, a hooded, male figure stepped out of the shadows.

Gemina
.

Amphiclea resisted the urge to run to her for an embrace.

“You know what to do?” Amphiclea asked. Gemina nodded, and Amphiclea handed her the bag with the coins in it. “Then let’s go.”

Gemina led the way up the steps to the jail. She walked, as Amphiclea had instructed, confidently and heavily. As a
man would. Amphiclea followed, staying a few subservient feet behind. She remained at the top of the steps as Gemina opened the door and disappeared inside.

The jail was damp and foul-smelling, and Gemina’s stomach dropped as she imagined Plotinus in such a place, then dropped further again as she imagined herself there. The impossibility of her situation had caused a hard, solid lump to form in her throat, but she pushed it down and composed herself just as the sleepy, rumpled-looking guard noticed her.

“Can I help you?” He was young, about her age. He was handsome, too, with green, almond-shaped eyes that stood out against his dark skin. Gemina reminded herself that to him, she was just an old man. Her feminine charms would be of no help to her in this situation. She pulled the hood off of her head, revealing Plotinus’s whole face.

“I am the philosopher Plotinus. Your prisoner, Gemina, is my patron and friend. It’s urgent that I speak to her.”

The guard shook his head. “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t let you see her.”

Gemina had been expecting this. She knew that female prisoners were not allowed to have male visitors other than their husbands. That’s why Amphiclea had come. And once Amphiclea had gone in, she would bribe the guard to allow her to accompany her friend.

“No, you don’t understand. The woman caring for her child is here, outside. She needs to speak to her. It’s imperative.”

The guard frowned and shook his head again. “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t allow her any visitors.”

Gemina clasped her hands behind her back to keep them from shaking. This was not going as planned. She hadn’t counted on the guard being difficult. “What is your name?” she asked, angrily.

“Marcus, sir.” He met her eyes, and in them she recognized a quiet outrage.
Something is happening here that I don’t understand
, she thought.

Gemina lowered her voice. “I can pay you,” she whispered, holding out the pouch with the coins inside.

But Marcus shook his head. He looked at her apprehensively. “Are you really her friend?” The note of tender concern in his voice was unmistakable. A deep blush spread from Gemina’s cheeks to the tips of her fingers as she suddenly understood what was going on.

“Yes. I know her better than anyone. Better than she even knows herself. And Amphiclea, the woman outside—they are practically sisters.”

Marcus’s eyes were moist and had a look of torture in them. “It’s all my fault,” he moaned. His buried his face in his hands.

“What is your fault?” Gemina asked.

“I thought I was helping her!” he exclaimed, removing his hands. “It was I who gave her husband the paper she wrote. But only because I didn’t want it to be used against her! I thought he would tear it up. How could I have known that he would instead turn it over to the magistrate?” He shook his head, agonized. “She’ll be tried for treason now, and there’s no doubt that she’ll be executed.”

A rage boiled at the base of Gemina’s spine, radiating hot waves of anger through her entire body. She knew that Castricius was a vindictive man, but this was unthinkable. He would have her executed for treason? Did he care nothing for her at all? For their daughter?

“We must see her,” she implored.

Marcus nodded. “I only said you couldn’t because I was trying to protect her. After Castricius … I have no way of knowing who can be trusted.”

Gemina pressed the pouch of coins into his hand. “You can trust us.”

It was a relief
to find the living conditions inside the warden’s office to be satisfactory, though as Marcus shut the door behind her and Amphiclea, Gemina felt a wave of panicked nausea wash through her.

I’m going to die
, she thought.
I’m going to die, and my own husband is the executioner
.

“It’s wonderful to see you both,” Plotinus said. His voice was lighthearted, and it struck Gemina as inappropriate under the circumstances. But then it occurred to her that perhaps he wasn’t fully aware of the circumstances. Would Marcus have told him about Castricius, or did he think he was he protecting her from the truth as well as from traitors? Gemina was afraid to ask.

“Our guard Marcus is quite taken with you,” Plotinus laughed. “He was blinded by your beauty from the moment I arrived. And thank goodness, because he’s given me special treatment. I don’t imagine the other prisoners receive sprigs of lavender and fresh figs each morning!”

Despite the dire situation, Gemina was flattered; she studied her own face smiling back at her, trying to see what Marcus saw. It was filthy and gaunt. But her cheeks were still pink, and her dark hair still appeared luminous. Of course, that could have been the candlelight …

“Well,” Amphiclea replied, “that’s one kind of power women have that men don’t.”

At this, Plotinus’s expression sobered. “Yes, that’s quite true. But it’s no replacement for the real thing. I understand you told Castricius about our experiment. I assume you showed him the journal and the anklet?”

Amphiclea nodded. “He was less than sympathetic.”

“Yes, his actions with the magistrate led me to believe as much.”

So he did know. Gemina was using all her strength to hold back her tears as the reality of her situation took hold. She was going to live the rest of her short life in this tiny room without Amphiclea, without Gaia, without her family. And then she would be dead; hung, or thrown to the bottom of the sea, or worse. It was the cruelest fate she could imagine.

“Let’s just do this, Plotinus,” she managed to say. She knew that if she uttered another word, the floodgates would open and might never close.

“Do what?”

“Project!” she shouted at him as a tear escaped from her eye and dripped down her cheek. “Amphiclea has done her duty as our witness. She’s arranged for us to meet so that we may return to our rightful bodies.” She watched as a look of shock crossed her own face.

“And have you face execution?” Plotinus asked. He sounded bewildered. “Is that why you came here? To project?” He crossed the tiny room and put his arm around her shoulder. “My dear Gemina, you brave, brave girl. I would never allow you to take my place here.”

“Then what do we do, Plotinus?”

“We stay as we are,” he answered, as if the matter were just that simple.

“But I’m you!” she cried.

“And I’m you. And I shall die as you. But I’m not afraid of death, Gemina. Remember what I taught you? Our bodies are merely vessels for our souls. When the body is gone, the soul returns to The One.”