The Age of Silence

Catherine Nolan

Michael finished his last few phrases of translation (a formal letter of introduction, full of irregular verbs and incomplete sentences), threw his heavy textbook into his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He was in a bad mood because he hated history, he hated translating from dead languages and he had a sneaking suspicion that the history professors didn’t even believe in their own theories most of the time. However, it was a required course and students were expected to attend all the classes, so he lifted himself to his feet and made his way out of the library.

The hallway to the next building was dark, and many other young men were walking in both directions. The bell echoed hollowly through the corridors for a second time, announcing to the students that the next classes were about to begin. Michael quickened his pace. He already had the reputation of being a reluctant student, and it would not do to be late.

By the time he got to the classroom, most of the other students were already there and seated. Michael sighed as he pulled out his textbook and pen, shoving his bag under his desk and turning to the thin, blond boy on his right. “You know, Andrew, I really don’t see how they can get a whole historical theory built around a couple scraps of metal they dug up. It’s not very convincing, expecially considering the readings we’re assigned.”

The blond boy merely shrugged and examined his pen, turning it over in his hands. “Well, who knows. I’m sure they have a reason. They’re definitely smarter than I am.”

“Gentlemen.” The professor had entered the classroom silently, and the chatter ceased even before the heavy wooden door had closed. “Please, open your books to the seventh chapter, ‘The Silent Age.’ Are there any questions before we examine the texts?”

The long rows of black-garbed young men were still, and the sunlight glinted through stained glass to glow golden and red on the dark desks.

“Very well.” The older man had cautiously mounted the steps to the podium and licked his thumb to turn over a few pages in front of him. The students waited expectantly as he read. Finally he raised his eyebrows and surveyed the class. “We give thanks for the truth we receive.”

“Amen.” The chorus of tenor and baritone voices rang out strongly.