The young Caesar has lost his mind!
That was the immediate reaction from the citizens of Rome when news from the Campus Martius spread.
"He's going to regularly share his profits with his workers? That's basically the same as giving away his own wealth!"
"First the streetlights, then the towers, and now he's simply giving away his wealth?"
Very few people understood Caesar's the real purpose behind the announcement. The vast majority of Roman citizens simply perceived it as a shocking new kind of public generosity.
"The kid next door got hired at the Palmolive factory a while ago. If I had known this would happen, I would've told my son to apply!"
"You think there are any spots left if we ask right now?"
"I heard some workers got a bonus this month that was bigger than their actual wages."
Working for Caesar was no longer just a job.
For an ordinary plebeian, it was a golden chance to grow rich.
For those with true talent, it was a path that might one day carry them into the Equestrian Order.
Any freeborn Roman citizen could theoretically become an eques—a knight.
The only requirement was having property worth roughly 400,000 sesterces. Naturally, this was a sum the average citizen could never hope to accumulate in a lifetime.
But when word got out that Caesar had given one engineer tens of thousands of sesterces as a bonus, an unprecedented wave of hope washed over the masses.
"If I can just invent a couple of good tools for Caesar, I could become an eques overnight!"
"And who knows? Once you're an eques, if you manage to get elected quaestor, you become a senator!"
"Right! Sulla changed the laws so that quaestors are automatically entered the Senate."
Historically, it wasn't strictly impossible for a plebeian to enter the Senate, but it usually required wealth built up over generations, along with careful political maneuvering.
Now, the rules of the game had changed.
Anyone who proved their worth under Caesar had a a legitimate path to becoming an eques, and from there, even a seat in the Senate no longer seemed impossible.
And in Rome, there was one man who recognized Caesar's true intent before anyone else.
***
"If you ever need my assistance, you have but to ask. I have people ready to receive my old legionaries at any time. I am ready to help whenever needed."
"We are truly grateful, sir Crassus."
Crassus shook the hands of the veterans lined up before him.
Every single veteran gathered in this insula had once fought under his command.
These were the citizens who had marched against the rebel gladiators to crush the Spartacus rebellion.
When they finally achieved victory, they slaughtered the rebel army and crucified the survivors along the Appian Way.
"Every Roman knows that 'we' were the ones who truly put down Spartacus. If that snake, Pompey hadn't appeared at the last moment and stole the glory, every one of you would be receiving far greater honors right now."
"We believe the exact same thing, Imperator."
At the word Imperator, a deeply satisfied smile spread across Crassus's face.
Even though he held no imperium at the moment, being addressed as a victorious general never failed to please him.
"I will continue to fight for your well-being. If you ever run into any hardships, do not hesitate to come to the Veterans' Fund."
Stepping out of the insula, Crassus climbed into his litter, heavily guarded by his slaves.
His secretary and trusted slave, Pollio, hurried to the side of the litter.
"We have gathered the crowd exactly as you instructed, Dominus. Well over ten thousand citizens will be present to hear your speech."
"And Publius?"
"The Young Master is already waiting at the Forum."
"Excellent. Let us make haste, then."
At Crassus's gesture, the litter-bearers broke into a brisk jog.
It didn't take long for him to arrive at the Forum.
Amidst the cheers and whistles of the claqueurs—professional cheerers he had hired beforehand—Crassus marched to the center of the square.
"Fellow citizens! Surely every man here knows who I am!"
"Crassus! Crassus!"
"I am Marcus Licinius Crassus, son of Publius Licinius Crassus! I am the man who crushed the Spartacus rebellion! I am the man who, during my consulship, provided free grain for three whole months to every citizen of Rome!"
The crowd erupted into deafening cheers.
Basking in the thunderous applause, Crassus raised his hands to speak again.
"By now, you have all heard of the Veterans' Fund that Lucius Caesar and I recently announced!"
At his booming voice, the chaotic Forum fell completely silent.
Ever since the Senate took over the lotteries, the veterans had indeed been receiving stipends.
And every single person here knew exactly whose idea it had been in the first place.
Lucius Caesar.
The young patrician had not only handed over the highly lucrative lottery to the Senate, but he was also paying for the veterans out of his own pocket.
"As a Roman, there is no greater glory than giving up one's wealth for the sake of one's fellow citizens! Therefore, I have made a sacred vow!"
Crassus's voice echoed off the marble columns of the Forum.
"From this day forward, I pledge to donate nine-tenths of my fortune for the benefit of the Roman people!"
"...!"
Shock swept through the Forum.
"Crassus is giving away nine-tenths of his wealth?!"
"Gods above, how much money is that even?!"
It was no secret that Crassus was obscenely, unfathomably wealthy.
People joked that if he ever felt like it, he could literally buy the entire city of Rome.
Hearing that man declare he was giving away ninety percent of his fortune left even his paid claqueurs stood there gaping.
"I imagine many of you find this hard to believe," Crassus said with a benevolent smile.
"But I have already decreed the establishment of a grand new charitable fund! For the Republic and for her citizens, I, Crassus, will do whatever it takes!"
Amidst amid applause so loud it seemed to shake the ground, Crassus grandly waved to the masses.
***
"I still do not understand your true intentions, father. Are you genuinely planning to give away nine-tenths of your wealth?"
"What, are you worried your inheritance will be diminished?"
Publius frowned at his father's teasing question.
He was slightly concerned about his inheritance, but that wasn't the main issue.
"I simply worry that it will look as though you are desperately trying to imitate Lucius Caesar."
"Imitate him? Well, that is exactly what I am doing."
Crassus chuckled, casually swirling the wine in his goblet.
"That boy is changing the rules entirely. Or rather, he's building an entirely new ship."
"And you intend to board the ship he built?"
"No, we will build our own ship. We are simply borrowing his methods," Crassus replied.
"He relies exclusively on free citizens to grow his ventures. In contrast, most of my wealth comes from slave labor."
Crassus's most lucrative ventures were built on the backs of slaves.
But he didn't just buy and sell them like cattle.
He purchased slaves, put them through rigorous training in specialized fields, and rented them out for enormous sums.
He owned thousands of slaves highly specialized in everything from architecture and fine arts to accounting and public administration.
"Then shouldn't we reduce our reliance on slave labor and hire more free citizens...?"
"If we try to compete with Caesar using his own methods, we will only put ourselves at a disadvantage. If I suddenly sell off my slaves, the price of slaves will collapse. I wouldn't even be able to sell them for a fraction of their worth."
Crassus waved a hand, gesturing for a slave to pour him more wine.
"We have our own strengths. We use our slave labor to produce goods in large quantities and drown the market in cheap wares. All we have to do is take part of those profits and hand it back to the citizens."
"But Lucius Caesar is constantly bringing out new goods. From the insurance to the Palmolive soap..." Publius argued, standing up from his chair.
Despite his son's agitation, Crassus remained comfortably reclined.
"Lucius has agreed to share his new technologies with us. So on that front as well, the contest will be even."
"He agreed to share his inventions? Why would he ever agree to that?"
"Because he is arrogant enough to believe he can still win. And regardless, Lucius needs us just as much as we need him. His father will be returning from Hispania soon. He will undoubtedly seek the consulship next year."
"So Caesar will employ free citizens to produce new goods, and you will use slaves to produce far cheaper goods..."
"In effect, we would divide the market between us."
A heavy silence descended upon the room. The only sound was the soft brushing of brooms as slaves swept the floor.
Every single one of them was deaf, to ensure nothing said in the room could leave it
"While Lucius wins the loyalty of his freeborn workers, we will emancipate our most loyal slaves over time. That will bring us a steady stream of loyal clients."
"..."
Publius closed his mouth.
As always, his father's logic was impossible to argue with.
But there was still one obvious problem he still could not make sense of.
"Even so, there's no need to pledge nine-tenths of your fortune! The financial loss would be catastrophic."
"You foolish boy. A donation can take many forms."
Crassus threw his head back and laughed.
"Lucius Caesar already demonstrated this with his Veterans' Foundation. In the end, the one who controls the foundation is the one who created it."
"...And the foundation doesn't have to distribute all its money immediately."
"Exactly. I declared to the masses that I would donate most of my wealth... but I never specified 'when' that would happen. And the one who will be overseeing this new fund is you, Publius."
Crassus locked eyes with his son, his gaze suddenly turning sharp.
"You will use this foundation as a political foothold to climb the ranks of the Senate. Do not forget that."
"But we'll still have to spend that money on the plebs eventually. Why throw it away like that...?"
"How do you think I built this fortune?"
Crassus slammed his goblet down onto the table.
"Sulla wrote the names of his political enemies on his proscription lists. He legally permitted anyone in Rome to cut off their heads and seize their property."
"And you pursued it more zealously than anyone else," Publius replied.
What he left unsaid was the darker truth.
His father had secretly added the names of immensely wealthy men who weren't on Sulla's original lists, slaughtering them and looting their estates.
"Exactly. Without power, money is meaningless. And without money, power is equally meaningless. Remember that well, Publius."
Crassus stood up from his couch and gazed out over the sprawling city of Rome.
Endless rows of insulae, bustling streets, and tens of thousands of people.
His wealth reached every corner of the city
"It is time we put our own plans into motion."
***
"I think this should be enough. At least for now."
As the construction of the relay towers connecting Ostia to Rome neared completion, Pompey and I worked out how the system would be run.
How many operators each tower required, how their shifts would be scheduled, and how the logistical supply lines would be maintained.
Pompey provided far stronger and more detailed opinions than I had anticipated.
But we weren't entirely ready just yet.
No matter how flawless the blueprint was, we still needed boots on the ground to execute it.
"To keep these outposts staffed every day requires men with physical endurance and mental discipline. Why don't we recruit from the veterans again, like we did last time?" Pompey suggested.
"That's a solid option. But this time, I'm going to open it to all Roman citizens."
"Are you going to go from door to door again, like you did when you founded your technical school?"
"There's no need for that anymore. Every citizen in Rome already knows exactly who I am and what I stand for," I replied, shaking my head at Pompey's question.
After my shocking announcement at the Campus Martius, it felt as though half the city wanted to work for me.
I didn't need to knock on doors to gather applicants anymore.
There was a much simpler, far more effective method.
"I'm just going to post a notice in the Forum."
"A notice?"
"One should suffice."
Because within a day, everyone in Rome would hear about it anyway.
A flower does not go looking for bees.
It simply produces the sweetest, most fragrant nectar, and waits for the bees to swarm.
And right now, I had the sweetest nectar in all of Rome.
Hope.
***
"Did you hear the news?!"
"What news?"
"Lucius Caesar is taking on more men again!"
"Hiring for what? The Palmolive factories? Or the insurance business?"
"Neither! He's recruiting operators to man those massive towers connecting Rome to Ostia!"
"I saw it! There's a huge mob practically tearing each other apart in the Forum right now trying to see the posting!"
"Are you serious?! I need to get down there right now!"
A single notice was posted on a wall in the Forum.
Citizens swarmed the square, desperately trying to read the words written upon it.
Even the illiterate plebeians shoved their way to the front, begging the literate to read it aloud.
The crush of bodies made it nearly impossible to get a clear look.
But the lucky few who managed to push to the front found a large papyrus scroll with only a few words written on it.
There were brief lines that took only a moment to read.
[TOWER OPERATORS WANTED!]
[ALL ROMAN CITIZENS MAY APPLY!]
And beneath it, there was one final line.
A simple, yet powerful declaration of Caesar's philosophy.
[OF THE ROMANS, BY THE ROMANS, FOR THE ROMANS]