"Freedom without limits is just a word"

Terry Pratchett

Jacob Trials stood in the Forum a couple of days after his exhausted, death-like sleep. He felt refreshed, energised. Despite not having a clue where to go next, no idea where to even start looking, he felt sure he was moving in the right direction.

Action, that was the thing. Even if it was combing a city with practically no hope of finding the object of your search, it was better than lapsing into despair and isolation in a dank hotel room. Nigel Matterson was here, and he would find him.

He had been getting through burners like candy, checking in with Ray for constant updates on his investigations into Korez, Matterson, and The General. Though nothing had turned up yet, it was just a matter of time. Nobody stayed off the grid for long, especially those unwilling to give up everything to do so, and not one of them struck Trials as the type to give up all they had gained over the years.

For now, then, he wandered the streets of Rome without a destination, taking in the ruins, moving with the crowds as they flowed around the front of the Pantheon, sitting outside the Colosseum as school groups giggled and laughed, ignoring the teachers trying patiently to explain the history of the building, and adults sighed at the length of the queue.

It occurred to Trials that though he had been many places, seen many things, he had never really experienced them. He was always on the move, focused on whatever goal he was pursuing, planning his departure before he even arrived.

The Romans? He realised he didn't know anything about them. Just sitting here, the snippets of other tours flowing over his head taught him more than he had learnt about them over the course of his life. A culture, an empire that thrived for over a thousand years, the longest in history. Had they faced threats such as they faced today? Trials thought so, but he had no evidence to support his opinion. They must have.

Had the Emperor Augustus, whoever he was, sat on his throne and worried about poisonous ideas destroying his empire, his people? Did he even have a throne? Trials thought he'd heard or read something to the contrary during his wanderings.

So he headed to the Palatine Hill, the house of Augustus, where he found his supposition had been almost completely wrong. The house was small, smaller even than the terraced houses that littered the modern world, only the gardens of any real extent. This wasn't an emperor who sat on a throne, this wasn't an absolute ruler who held the lives of his subjects in his fist. He wasn't even called the Emperor, he was the Princeps, the first among equals.

Trials smiled wryly to himself. It was amazing the way people could create such elaborate structures in their minds to maintain their favoured image of the world, to the point where a man could be both acknowledged as the foremost and only power in the world and yet also considered an equal to others, two mutually exclusive worldviews that nonetheless had been held within the heads of the most influential and educated people in this society. He wondered what similar fantasies of today would be obvious centuries from now, what the citizens of the future would laugh and joke about from the current era.

Trials wandered back into the city and began to count the churches he saw. They were everywhere, the Vatican itself not far away. Wouldn't the Romans themselves have considered this evidence of intellectual contagion? Where once the Temple of Jupiter, of Saturninus and Bacchus, of countless gods would have stood, there now stood temples dedicated to one tortured man, the imagery of the crucifixion filling the eyes, seemingly devoted to accentuating the suffering of the man believed to be the son of God. What would Augustus have made of it? What would the Ministry have done about it, had it somehow existed so long ago? Would Trials have found himself burning churches, confiscating tithes and donatives, convincing priests to disappear?

He was unused to such introspection, and his usually strong awareness of his surroundings faded. That was why he span around so quickly, arm upraised in preparation for the attack, at the sound of The General's voice;

"I'm impressed you made it here so fast, Trials."

"What makes you think I won't knock you out right here and drag you to the polizia?"

Trials spoke angrily, not relaxing his stance though The General stood directly in front of him, unfazed and seemingly relaxed as the crowd flowed around them both.

"Because you don't want to, Trials. You don't need to, either," replied The General. "I'm not a threat to you, Jake. I never have been, you know that. Furthermore, I came to you."

"You murdered the Lieutenant. You slit the throat of a woman in chains, Matthews," said Trials coldly.

He thought this might be the first time he had ever called The General by his name.

"Hmm, you speak with such certainty that I take it I failed in wiping the video then? Damn."

The General gave a slight grimace, and continued as if this was but a slight problem.

"What did she say to you, Matthews? Who are you looking for?" demanded Trials.

"Ah, you don't know? Interesting. The Ministry is really destroyed, then? That is unfortunate. Never fear though, my boy, we can soon have it back on its feet."

The General spoke in his usual jovial tones, but Trials was damned if he would be calmed that easily.

"You murdered her. You slit her fucking throat. Why would I ever work with you again?"

Trials was aware that even as he asked the question in rage, half of him was hoping there really was an answer.

"Have I ever steered you wrong, boy? I was the one that got you into the Ministry, remember. You've worked with me for what, 7, 8 years now? Did you ever doubt me?"

It was true, Trials knew. The General had been the one that had guided him through his training, had taken him under his wing, taught him the true nature of the threats the free world faced from extremism and lunacy. Not once had Trials doubted The General's dedication to constraining and preventing dangerous ideologies from spreading. He had seen him risk his life to do so on more than one occasion.

"Tell me why you killed her," Trials said, voice quiet.

"I will, Jacob, I will, but not here. You will need to trust me, as you have before. And in return..." he continued as if suddenly remembering something, "...I can show you where your friend Mike is."