Chapter Chapter Eleven
I sit in Bump Nose’s group with tapping fingers and toes as my eyes remain transfixed, burning an image of the door into my permanent memory. Tight Rope, 12 and 14 are all here, yet I’m waiting on one more number: Switch. What if he really was lying the entire time and is exposing our group to the officials this very moment? I do the math in my head. With 14 and I gone, also 12, and to a lesser extent Tight Rope, the only Titles left with any real chance of making it to Level Three will be Dagger, One, and Switch.
I stare at the door knob with such intensity that I trick myself into thinking it’s turning, then my eyes blink and I realize once again it’s still: no one is there. I can just imagine a single official turning the knob, calmly walking through the door, extracting a long, dainty finger from her pocket and with the press of a button on her wrist port instantly turning us all into charred corpses. She would leave promptly and nonchalantly, eager to check off the next task on her to do list, her nose only wrinkling slightly at the stench of singed hair and burnt flesh before her footstep echoed down the hallway. I see the door knob start to turn and I feel my esophagus attempt to slither away as a dark figure appears in the doorway.
It’s Switch. He’s alone. He looks around cautiously, a nervous smile. Then he takes a seat next to 14 who nods at him politely and carries on as usual. I let out a momentous exhale as 14 raises his hand to speak. “Yes, Title 14,” responds Bump Nose as his eyes glaze over Switch for half a second, entirely impassive. “The textbook has been going on and on about the “grotesque gluttony” and “decadence” of Rome, claiming that it was this that brought about it’s fall. Yet it cites no direct correlation.” The class collectively looks up in utter bewilderment. It is a simple equation: weakness = bad = Rome falls. Oftentimes the “weakness” Bump Nose describes is ambiguous and not sufficiently concrete, the scrutiny of seemingly innocent patterns of human behavior. Yet there is nothing seemingly innocent, and no room for speculation here. Orgies and vomitoriums constitute legitimate causes for worry. Bump Nose is sporting his trademark happy question smirk.
“The decadence of Rome did not directly contribute to it’s fall.” 12 and I simultaneously let out a shocked and garbled, “What????!!!” As Tight Rope begins to speak, “But the textbook said....” Switch cuts her off, “Come off it 20, you wouldn’t be here if you believed everything the textbooks say!” Tight Rope starts gesticulating wildly, “But this is obvious! Weakness is the scourge on society, the thing that topples empires, and decadence is weakness by definition, it caused the fall of Rome, there is no way around it!” “Quiet down!” yells 14, silencing the uproar that has ensued. “I want to hear what the teacher has to say.”
All eyes are fixed on Bump Nose as I silently beg him not to dispense his usual ambiguity. “Rome lasted from roughly 31 BCE to 476 CE, decadence was prevalent, especially among the emperors long before Rome’s fall. Since there was no apparent rise in decadence leading to the fall of Rome one can not claim any direct correlation between decadence and it’s fall. Though, the corruption of members of government who no longer prioritized their responsibilities was undoubtedly an issue, the lifestyle in itself was not the primary cause.” The room is silent as everyone seems to soak in his words. “So then what did cause the fall of the Roman Empire?” Tight Rope persists.
Bump Nose seems amused at our profound confusion. “Rome fell because of barbarians outside, and inside the gates. It got too big, there was no stable process for choosing an emperor and it collapsed from within. In addition, arguably, it didn’t collapse. The western empire collapsed, and the eastern one moved to Constantinople and became the Byzantine Empire.” I regard the disillusioned faces around me, so many far away eyes brimming with that delicious type of intellectual curiosity that makes you walk into chairs and walls without noticing. Switch is no exception. I shoot him a small smile as we go out the door.