The Reincarnationist Read Free Page A

turned down the volume on the dusty black plastic CD player and began the tour.
    â€œThe crypt is—I will do this for you in feet, not meters—eight feet wide by seven feet long. Professor Chase—Gabriella—and I believe it was built in the very last years of the fourth century. Until we have the carbon dating back we can’t be positive. But from some of the artifacts here, we think it was 391 A.D., the same year the cult of the Vestal Virgins ended. Such decoration is atypical for this type of burial chamber, so we believe it must have been intended for someone else and then used for the Vestal when her inconstancy was discovered.”
    Josh lifted his camera to his eye, but before he took a shot he asked if the professor minded. Nothing short of a bomb had ever stopped him from taking a photo when he was working for the Associate Press. Then six months ago he’d taken a leave of absence to work as a videographer and photographer of children who came to the Phoenix Foundation for help with their past-life regression memories. Since then, he’d gotten used to asking forpermission before shooting. In return, he had access to the world’s largest and most private library on the subject of reincarnation as well as the chance to work with the foundation’s principals.
    â€œIt’s fine, yes, but would you clear it with either Gabriella or me before you show the pictures or release them to anyone? Everything here is still a secret we are trying to keep until we have additional information about exactly what we have discovered. We don’t want to create false excitement if we’re wrong about our find. Better to be safe, no?”
    Josh nodded as he focused and clicked the shutter. “What did you mean by the Vestal’s inconstancy?”
    â€œMaybe that is the wrong word, I’m sorry. I meant the breaking of her vows. That’s better, no?”
    â€œWhat vows? Were the Vestals nuns?”
    â€œPagan nuns, yes. Upon entering the order they took a vow of chastity, and the punishment for breaking that vow was to be buried alive.”
    Josh felt an oppressive wave of sadness. As if on autopilot, he depressed the shutter. “For falling in love?”
    â€œYou are a romantic. You will enjoy Rome.” He smiled. “Yes, for falling in love or for giving in to lust.”
    â€œBut why?”
    â€œYou need to understand that the religion of ancient Rome was based on a strict moral code that stressed truthfulness, honor and personal responsibility while demanding steadfastness and devotion to duty. They believed that every creature had a soul, but they were also very superstitious, worshipping gods and spirits who had influence over every aspect of their lives. If all the rituals and sacrifices were performed properly, the Romans believed the gods would be happy and help them. If they weren’t, they believed the gods would punish them. Contrary topublic misinformation, the ancient religion was quite humane in general. Pagan priests could marry, and have children and…”
    The faint scents of jasmine and sandalwood that usually accompanied his memory lurches teased Josh, and he fought to stay attuned to the lecture. He felt as if he’d always known about these painted walls and the maze beneath his feet but had forgotten them until this moment. The sensations that usually accompanied the waking nightmares he’d been experiencing since the accident were rocking him: the slow drift down, the undulating, the prickles of excitement running up his arms and his legs, the submergence into that atmosphere where the very air was thicker and heavier.
    * * *
    He ran in the rain. His soaked robe was heavy on his shoulders. Under his feet the ground was muddy. He could hear shouting. He stumbled. Struggled to get up.
    Focus , Josh intoned in some other section of his brain where he remained in the present. Focus . He looked through the lens at the