The Lost Twins 3. The Roman Theatre

Inside of Zeus' folder there were mostly just pictures, but no profiles of the twin duo which were her sister and brother Apollo and Artemis. Only random and miscellaneous notes here and there, mostly in her father's driven hand-writing. The first picture seemed fairly new; a woman probably just a few years younger than Athena, who had short, straight ash blond hair with bangs cut at an angle across her face. Her clothing was dark and well fitted. She actually did seem a bit intimidating, or at least tough. At the same time, her ice blue eyes seemed so honest and serene, it was strange to think she could be threatening.

Sitting on the bed of her hotel room, Athena spread the pictures over the bed cover, as the street noise of Rome seeped in through the open window. Athena had arrived in the Eternal City early the same day, and now she was hoping to find some trace of this elusive woman who was Diana Crescentini, aka her sister Artemis, daughter to Leto Coeus, the hidden one, the queen of spies, who had been Zeus' lovers so long ago. One of Zeus' many lovers, as long as Athena could remember, her father had been having mistresses, one more illustrious than the other. That was why her mother Metis had left him, however Hera, whom he had married afterwards had been too involved in the Olympos project to be able to do the same thing later, when she found that Zeus had cheated upon her.

Now, her father's words came back to her as she regarded all the pictures on the bed.
"No one knows where she's from, or where she lives. Diana Crescentini is said to always be on the move, roaming the streets, hiding in secret apartments. Apparently she's traveled a lot too. Although we've been tracking her for years, still, no one can seem to figure her out. She's never been confronted, never been approached, but we know there's still something going on with her."
"Who's 'we' in this case?" she had to ask.
"The organization," her father clarified. "She has also been often spotted in political gatherings and company events, yet she doesn't talk to many people. She's a real mystery, this girl."

"And now you want me to find her? And then do what?"
"Tell her the truth about her origin, of course. I don't know how much she knows already. What Leto might have told her, or not. But to me it seems, she's not aware of her background at all."
"And Apollo?"
"Even less is known about him. He was a model for a while, walked the catwalks of Paris and Milan. Then he disappeared, just before I was going to let someone from the organization to approach him. Our hope now is that Artemis knows something about him. Where to start looking for him at least."

Athena regarded the photo of Apollo. The model shot. Trying once more to recollect where she had seen this man before. However she was blinded by the likeness of their father. Zeus too had that masculine, chiseled handsomeness that made him hard to pin as anything but a Caucasian man. Nothing to narrow him in as Greek or even Mediterranean. Or anything else for that matter. Disregarding her thoughts, she put the picture in her wallet together with the latest shot of Artemis and prepared to hit the streets of Rome.

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Ten hours later Athena had had no luck at all. The Romans were minding their own business, nobody seemed familiar with the name Diana Crescentini or recognized the picture of Artemis. Or Apollo, she had shown that too to some people, including a model agency she had stepped into. They had instead wanted to hire her, hardly letting her go, when she told them she was not interested. They had promised her so much money, that to any other girl stepping in from the street, it would have been a fortune. But to Athena it was a laugh.

She had passed by the Vatican, once more marveling over the absurdity that such a place could exist in 2013. She had passed by the Coliseum, wondering what it had really been like in its heydays. And she had sat down on the Spanish steps, enjoying a gelatio (ice cream cone) and watched the world walk by. There was a bored policeman pointing tourists in some direction, and on a hunch, Athena stood and walked over to the pudgy little man, showing him the photo, telling him the name Diana Crescentini.

The man didn't shake his head and shrug just like everyone else, no he took the picture between calloused fingers, regarding it carefully. Then he returned.
"Can't say the name rings a bell, but that lady I have seen. Over at Dolorada. I believe she holds a position there."
"And what's the Dolorada?"
"A theatre. Shows modern plays, strange things a mere cop like myself do not understand. For the intellectuals. Or for those who pretend they understand, who goes there to show off, what do I know?"

"So," Athena said, "She's an actress."
"You might say that, yes. If you go there now, you might catch tonight's play. She might be in it, if you're lucky."
"But she's not using the name Diana Crescentini?"
"Diana all right, but her surname is Marelius," the policeman had told. Then he had given Athena the address to the theatre, and she had been off to see if she could catch her sister there, or if someone there knew anything about the evasive Diana Marelius, aka Diana Crescentini aka Artemis Coeus aka Artemis Olympias, at least the latter if Zeus had a say in things. Which he often had, but that was another story.  

Taking a bus to said address, Athena soon found herself in oddly neat quarters. It looked more like some kind of business district to be true, with office fronts lining the side street, glass buildings with closed down receptions, blinking alarms and surveillance cameras scrutinizing the outside. Athena walked the few meters up to the theater entrance, which lied there as a rare bird among the companies, an older building which had been forgotten when the street obviously had been demolished some ten to twenty years ago. Its facade was not in the best shape, but coloured lanterns were burning outside, and a large poster were marketing tonight's show "Green eyes blue tears." Didn't sound that pretentious, Athena thought, more like a love melodrama.  

Athena went inside and purchased a ticked, the foyer, she noted, looked oddly empty. She also bought a bottle of water in the kiosk to the left of the entrance, a bored girl in her twenties managing it. Then Athena slipped into the auditorium, and found herself in the stalls. She noticed that there was only about a dozen more people in the auditorium, all of them sitting more or less spread out, save for a talkative trio sitting way back, whispering between themselves in a brusque way of entirely different things than what was going to take place on stage here later. They were youths, probably school kids, probably sent here by some teacher and now reluctantly sitting here, to be able to perform some paper about the show.

The rests were middle aged Romans who looked everything from posh to bohemian, Athena believing she was the only foreigner here  tonight.

The lights dimmed, someone turned around and hushed at the young people and the curtain went up, displaying what appeared to be a control room at some random industry, with monitors, keyboards and blinking lamps. Then two men came up and started talking about reactor leaks and radiation hazards. And Athena, knowing a few things about nuclear industry, could tell they've got it all wrong. Or at least the play writer had.

Then they were talking about women and their libido before an alarm set off and they went back to fret over that reactor again. After that the lights went down on the scene, save for a single spotlight shining green, and a woman took the stage. Now, there she was, Diana of the many aliases. She was talking about impending doom, about her being a Mother Earth in pain and of environmental disasters. She was saying the same thing trice, all very over-played and melodramatic, and with gestures which even with the Italian manners taken in mind were quite too much.  

Then the light setting changed and the play was back in the reactor again, where there were even more anxiety going on. Several red lamps were blinking, people were running to and from and the risen voices were talking about a meltdown. Getting it all wrong again, and Athena sighed in her seat. At this point two or three people in the audience was standing up and leaving.

Then there was a side track with two young reactor workers kissing in hiding beneath a staircase, talking about their parents not appreciating their love. Well well, some Romeo and Juliet thrown in for good measure, Athena thought. However what was the problem between the Capulets and the Montague's of this play was never really made clear.

Then Artemis was back and doing more of her laments. The next moment something had probably got very wrong in the reactor, because now it was all silent and dark, the alarms were off, however some lamps were still blinking and the young lovers were making their way across a floor littered with what appeared to be dead bodies, before they exited the building and were met by Artemis. Athena spent a few annoying moments wondering how they could be living when all the others were obviously dead – until she grasped that the lovers had now died too, and as they stepped out of the ill-fated nuclear plant they were met by no other than Mother Earth herself – played by Artemis – who took them to 'her heaven' because 'their hearts were the only ones which were pure'.

Now one of the youths in the back was laughing out loud, his puberty voice filled with scorn and ridicule. He had obviously paid attention to what had been going on at the stage after all. He was hushed down again, however Athena would have loved to join his scorn. Had this been the Coliseum in its heydays, the downwards pointing thumbs would have been in the majority and no doubt rotten eggs and tomatoes would have been thrown at the stage.

And while Artemis and the two lovers held another conversation on stage, some people were standing up and leaving, even before the curtain was falling – only to be hauled up, and the poor actors were holding hands and bowing to the remaining trio inclusive Athena. However the lingering couple, sitting two rows ahead of her, was clapping their hands to pieces, their 'bravo's echoing oddly in the empty hall.