Dante Amato sat on a large pillow in an ordinarily looking room. Only its lack of windows indicated it was underground—everything else was just like in an ordinary sitting room in Dante's palace.
The room's walls were bleached, and the floor was covered in white and blue glazed tiles. There were plants in the pots near the walls, and a pair of eastern-style statues standing in corners near the only entrance.
But that room was nowhere near places where Dante usually spent his time. And although his pose was relaxed, and there was not a hint of nervousness in the man's expression, inwardly he felt excitement and impatience.
Dante was on the verge of a great scientific discovery, and all he needed was to wait for the pieces to fall together.
The first of them was already near.