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matter of hours; making it strong enough to handle and study without damage.
    Dr. Simone Apriceno was another natural choice. A paleobotanist, she specialized in analyzing pollens and spores from ancient sites, and had been instrumental in debunking a number of purported “Holy Relics” by showing they contained traces of plant life that did not exist at the time and place they supposedly originated. If anyone could determine whether or not the materials in the chamber had truly been there since the time of Tiberius, she could. Nearly sixty years of age and built like a fireplug, she had the strength, stamina, and enthusiasm of a woman half her age. She was also a remarkable chef in her spare time, whose knowledge of ancient herb-lore enabled her to come up with dishes whose flavors had to be tasted to be believed.
    The third team member, however, was one of the reasons that Guioccini was having trouble sleeping. He had wanted to include his American friend, Dr. Luke Martens, a widely respected historian and archeologist specializing in the early Roman Empire. However, when he called him, he was crushed to find out that Dr. Martens was in traction following a ski accident. The professor had recently married a woman named Alicia, some fifteen years his junior, who apparently was a bit of an adrenaline junkie. Her latest winter vacation idea had landed her husband in the hospital. “She does keep me young, Bernardo,” laughed Martens as he explained his predicament. “When she is not trying to kill me, that is!” The Italian archeologist had heard an outraged female voice in the background, and chuckled. His own wife would not be caught dead on a ski lift. But Martens’ injury made a journey to Capri out of the question for another week or two at least.
    “But I do have a replacement in mind,” said the American, “if you are willing to accept my judgment. He is young, but he is very sharp and trained under the best. I’ve been supervising his work at Ephesus, and he is very enthusiastic, but also a hundred percent professional. He’s on sabbatical right now, getting ready to return to Ephesus to write up the work he’s done there. But honestly, the other folks on the dig can handle that end of it just as well, and it sounds like you could use some youthful energy on this project. Also, he’s a pretty staunch Christian, so anything from the first century will hold particular interest for him. He did an excellent doctoral dissertation on the impact of the Emperor Domitian on the early church, and backed it up with some marvelous research and scholarship. Believe me, Joshua Parker will be a better asset to your team than I could.”
    Not wanting to disappoint, Guioccini had accepted, but he was a bit ambivalent about inviting someone onto the team that he had never met before. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to have some Protestant input to balance out the Catholic presence, and if the boy was half the field archeologist that Martens claimed he was, he could serve well. All in all, he decided, he had done the best he could in the short time available. He just hoped that Dr. Parker would call him back soon; he needed the team to be complete as soon as possible. Finally, about 1 AM, he closed his eyes and began to drift off. That was when his phone rang.
    * * *
    Back at the Villa Jovis, Isabella and Giuseppe had gotten their tents set up pretty quickly. Chief Rosario had brought the supplies up the steep trail on an ATV just before sunset, about an hour previously, and they had met him at the lower end of the ruin, where the trail head was located—and out of sight of the ancient chamber. He had a sturdy Army issue cot for each of them, with sleeping bag and pillow to go on it, two pup tents, and a grocery bag from which the wonderful aroma of fresh baked bread, butter, and garlic was issuing. Isabella thanked him, then grabbed her gear and headed back up the trail, leaving the two friends to chat a moment.
    “Giuseppe,