Treasure (Dirk Pitt 9)

He shook hands warmly and without introductions as if he'd known everyone for years. He led them up a narrow stairwell to a combination living-dining room beneath a high-peaked ceiling with skylights.

"How does a gallon bottle of cheap burgundy sound before dinner," he asked with a sly grin.

Lily laughed. "I'm game."

Giordino shrugged. "Makes no difference as long as it's wet."

"And you, Dirk?"

"Sounds good."

Pitt didn't bother asking Rothberg how he recognized each of them. His father would have provided descriptions. The performance was nearly flawless. Pitt suspected the historian had worked for one of the government's many intelligence agencies at some time in the past.

Rothberg retired to the kitchen to pour the wine. Lily followed.

"Can I help you with anything-?" She suddenly stopped and peered at the empty counters and the cold stove.

Rothberg caught her curious look. "I'm a lousy cook so our dinner will be catered. It should show up around eight." He pointed at the sectional couch in the living room. "Please get comfortable around the fire."

He passed the glasses and then lowered his rotund figure into a leather easy chair. He raised his glass.

"Here's to a successful search."

"Hear, hear," said Lily.

Pitt got off the mark. "Dad tells me you've made the Alexandria Library a life study."

"Thirty-two years. Probably been better off to have taken a wife all that time instead of rummaging around dusty bookshelves and straining my eyes over old manuscripts. The subject has been like a mistress to me.

Never asking, only giving. I've never fallen out of love with her."

Lily said, "I can understand your attraction."

Rothberg smiled at her. "As an archaeologist, you would."

He rose and jabbed in the fireplace with a poker. Satisfied that the logs were burning evenly, he sat down again and continued.

"Yes, the Library was not only a glorious edifice of learning, but it was the chief wonder of the ancient world, containing vast accumulations of entire civilizations." Rothberg spoke almost as if he was in a trance, his mind seeing shadows from the past. "The great art and literature of the Greeks, the Egyptians, the Romans, the sacred writings of the Jews, the wisdom and knowledge of the most gifted men the world has ever known, the divine works of philosophy, music of incredible beauty, the ancient best-sellers, the masterworks of medicine and science, it was the finest storehouse of materials and knowledge ever assembled in antiquity."

"Was it open to the public?" asked Giordino.

"Certainly not to every beggar off the street," answered Rothberg. "But researchers and scholars pretty much had the run of the place to examine, catalog, translate and edit, and to publish their findings. You see, the Library and its adjoining museum went far beyond being mere depositories. Their halls launched the true science of creative scholarship. The Library became the first true reference library, as we think of today, where books were systematically catalogued. In fact the complex was known as the Place of the Muses."

Rothberg paused and checked his guests' glasses. "You look like you can use another shot of wine, Al."

Giordino smiled. "I never Turn down a free drink."

"Lily, Dirk?"

"I've hardly touched mine," said Lily.

Pitt shook his head. "I'm fine."

Rothberg refilled Giordino's glass and poured his own before continuing.

"Later empires and nations owe a staggering debt to the Alexandria Library. Few institutions of knowledge have produced so much.

Pliny, a celebrated Roman of the first century A.D., invented and wrote the world's first encyclopedia. Aristophanes, head of the Library two hundred years before Christ, was the father of the dictionary.