‘Sure thing.’
45
Antikythera
[Antikythera, Crete. Date: 9.914]
The market was an incandescent bazaar, packed with traders and their customers haggling over figs, oil, carpets and a thousand other trinkets. The warm evening air was full of the scent of oil lamps, citrus and a myriad other exotic fragrances that Josh couldn’t name. Everywhere he looked he saw something unusual or bizarre: small monkeys in cages peeling figs for the passers-by, a tattooed scribe selling spells drawn on scraps of paper, even a stall that sold live snakes.
He was trying hard not to be a wide-eyed tourist, but the experience of an ancient culture close up was overwhelming — especially when you were quite literally standing in the middle of it. There were too many new things to take in: the clothes, the jewels, the beautiful women, nothing looked familiar — his brain was constantly searching for a frame of reference, some glimmer of normality.
His newly acquired language skills weren’t helping either; being able to understand the babble of the crowd was only useful if you had some kind of context of what they were talking about — understanding and knowing where two entirely different things. He had that weird feeling that you get when you jump into the sea and realise you have no idea where the ocean floor is.
There were Roman soldiers everywhere. Their presence overshadowed the otherwise easy-going feel of the place. He watched the traders as they shrank back when the guards marched by — everyone was cautious, on their guard. Compared to the poor merchants they were intimidating sight with their polished armour, spears and heavy shields. The Romans seemed not to care, they had the look of battled hardened men who would rather be anywhere but policing a street market.
Caitlin had told him not to look anyone in the eye, especially not the Centurions. Josh kept his head down as they passed, hiding himself amongst the crowd. She was standing a few metres away, her head covered with a cowl to hide her hair. There weren’t many redheads in this part of the world; virtually everyone he had seen had dark black hair and olive skin. She’d made some remark about not wearing any deodorant earlier, and it was only now he appreciated what she meant: in the close proximity of the crowd, the smell of their collective body odour overwhelmed him.
After the patrol had passed, they made their way to a fountain in the centre of the market square. He took the wooden cup she offered him and drank; the water was cool and sweet.
‘You okay?’ she said in Greek.
‘What’s with all the Romans?’ he replied, taking another cup of water.
‘I forgot to mention the island is under Roman protection. They’ve invoked martial law. The locals aren’t too happy about it. I think it’s getting close to the curfew so they’ll be closing down soon.’
As she spoke, he could see the market was dispersing. People moved out into the side streets with baskets balanced on shoulders, the wealthier ones followed by heavily loaded servants.
Josh looked up into the tree that hung over them. It was old, with a thick trunk and a wide sprawling canopy. The leaves were dark green, and ripe succulent oranges hung from its lower branches. Josh reached up and picked one. He peeled it and gave half to Caitlin. The fruit was deliciously ripe and refreshing — the two of them sat in silence and savoured the taste.
‘So, where do you think he will be?’ Josh asked when he’d finished.
‘Not too far from the harbour, I would guess,’ she said, wiping the juice from her chin and pointing down the hill to a spur of land that reached out into the moonlit waters of the bay. Josh could make out the dark shapes of fishing boats moored close to the jetty and the lights of a larger fleet of warships anchored in the deep water. Two beautiful silver sandy beaches stretched out either side of the bay. Both were deserted — it was the picture of an unspoilt little fishing port.
How different it will be in the future, Josh thought, when the tourists turn up with their jet skis and party boats.
‘They’re quinqueremes,’ she said nodding to the large dark ships, ‘they’re part of the Roman navy. The Macedonians may still be at war with Pompey. I can never quite remember when it ended.’
‘Great. I should have guessed he would be somewhere near a war.’
Another Roman patrol marched past. Some of them were carrying torches and others were thumping their swords against their shields. The traders scrabbled around, packing up their stalls as they approached.
‘They’re going to move us on. You up for finding him now?’ she asked, keeping one eye the troops.
‘What if he’s in some kind of trouble?’ Josh said, looking at the swords. ‘Shouldn’t we have weapons?’
Caitlin turned and patted her thigh. ‘I’ve already thought of that.’
Josh could see there was a dagger-like lump under the layers of her dress.
An old lady was hurrying away from the guards carrying a small basket of bread and figs. She tripped and the shopping spilled out onto the cobblestones. Caitlin stood up and went to help her.
‘Venerable grandmother, would you know where I might find a soothsayer or an oracle?’ Caitlin asked, once they had everything safely back in the basket.
The old woman gave Caitlin a toothless smile — her face broke into a thousand brown creases.
‘Of course, my child. The seer you seek resides in the temple over yonder.’ She pointed up with one bony finger at a single white building on a distant hill that overlooked the bay.
It had taken them most of the night to get out of the town. They had spent hours carefully avoiding the Roman army, hiding in alleys and side streets until they’d got clear of the patrols. By then it was late and the moon was obscured by cloud, making it too dark and dangerous to navigate along the cliff path. They had slept huddled under Josh’s cloak listening to the sound of the waves below.
The next morning they ate one of the loaves the old lady had given them and watched the fishermen preparing their boats.
‘The Order has a variety of roles we can assume for times when we need to stay in one period — soothsayer is one of the more standard ones,’ Caitlin told him as she pulled apart the bread and handed him a piece. ‘The Draconians are well known for integrating themselves with the local cultures — going native. They once created an entire religion around the Oroborus symbol in ancient cultures just to ensure our safety.’
‘So we can always get a job as the local fortune teller?’ Josh joked.
‘Hardly. Oracles were more than just sideshow acts back here. Look at that place,’ she said pointing up at the impressive temple towering above them. ‘I guarantee you that he’s probably one of the most revered men on the island, and probably has ten or so acolytes at his beck and call.’
The view from the top of the cliffs was breathtaking. Sunlight danced off the cerulean blue of the Aegean Sea as it stretched out along the curve of the horizon. White sails of the warships looked like tiny postage stamps on the flat, glass-like surface of the water.
The temple was silent as they entered. The cool marble floor was a relief after the rough stone paths they’d just walked up. On either side of the entrance hall were benches beside long rectangular ponds full of golden fish. Caitlin sat on one and beckoned to Josh to join her.
‘Don’t we have to bang a gong or something?’ he whispered.
She smiled and removed her cowl, shaking her hair loose. ‘They know we’re here.’
There was a tinkling noise, like tiny silver bells, from the far end of the chamber. A beautiful pale woman in a thin white dress appeared from an unseen door and stood waiting for them.
Josh and Caitlin followed her inside the main chamber. She motioned them to stand in the middle of the circular room, and, as they did, a procession of a dozen or so equally beautiful women surrounded them — each one smiling beatifically. Josh found it very difficult to stop staring at their dark nipples, clearly visible through the gossamer of their dresses.
Once the circle was complete, one of their number step
ped forward. She was slightly older than the others and wore a golden snake amulet wrapped round one upper arm.
‘I am Sybil. Priestess of Apollo.’
‘We are travellers,’ said Caitlin as she pulled her sleeve back to reveal the mark of the Order.
‘The traveller is most welcome in the temple of Apollo,’ said the lady, who turned towards Josh as if expecting him to follow Caitlin’s example.
‘He is my servant,’ Caitlin added quickly.
Sybil smiled, placated by the explanation and her attention moved back to Caitlin.
‘What do you desire, mistress? We are at your service.’
‘I am looking for the sayer. I was told he was here within your temple.’
Something unspoken passed between the others as Caitlin spoke. Josh was studying the group while she was talking and noticed them shiver in unison. It was obvious that something had happened to the old man.
‘The sayer does not commune with mortals. We are his eyes, his ears, his mouth. You may ask what you wish, we will convey it to the blessed one.’
Caitlin looked a little put out by this. Josh could see the flush of colour on her cheeks — that was always an early indication of her temper building.
She bit her lip, the second sign of approaching anger. ‘Would you be so kind as to relay to the sayer, that Lady Caitlin of the Scriptoria requests a private audience.’
Sybil seemed to take a moment to process the request before something changed in her expression.
‘My apologies, my lady, but you seem to misunderstand — only we may commune with the Sayer.’
Josh wanted to interrupt, but knew that he was supposed to remain mute — Caitlin had made that very clear when she’d introduced him as a servant, but there was something wrong with the situation that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
‘This is ridiculous, are we not blessed?’
‘You are, my lady. But we have to preserve the grace of his holiness. His state must not be corrupted with the affairs of the corporeal plane. I must ask you for the last time to speak your business or begone.’ There was a subtle underlying threat in Sybil’s tone.
Caitlin turned towards Josh her eyes glowering. She drew a long thin blade from her skirts and disappeared.
A second later she reappeared behind Sybil with the dagger against the pale white skin of her neck.
‘Where is he?’ she demanded.
The circle of women surrounding them hissed and their skin began to crack and peel away as the hideous creatures beneath discarded their vestal virgin disguises and revealed the twisted bodies of haggard old crones. Their naked skin was scarred and covered in ancient tattoos. They leered at Josh, licking sharpened teeth with black tongues and cutting themselves with black edged knives.
‘Strzyga!’ Caitlin cursed, and pushed the blade a little deeper into Sybil’s neck.
‘Hold!’ ordered Sybil, who still retained her human appearance.
Josh was surrounded by the ugliest collection of hags he’d ever seen. He choked at what he’d been fantasising about doing with some of them. Caitlin was shouting something at him — he was too busy trying to work out what the hell they were. The threat on their leader seemed to be holding them at bay, but Josh was too far from Caitlin and too close to the others. One of the nearest creatures reached out towards him and then reeled back screaming as its severed arm fell bleeding onto the white marble floor. Caitlin’s blade was stained black, but it was as if she hadn’t moved.
‘Nobody touches him,’ she threatened.
‘What are they?’ Josh shouted in English, hoping they wouldn’t understand.
‘Strzyga. Witches. Time whores. We’re in some kind of trap — I should have spotted it.’
‘What do we do?’
‘Don’t let them touch you. They won’t risk anything while I have this one — but they will try to get to you.’
The Strzyga were growing impatient, their heads twisting from side to side as they tried to understand the strange language their prey were speaking.
‘Stand very still — I am going to try something,’ she said through gritted teeth.
Caitlin disappeared, and Sybil immediately opened her mouth to command her followers to attack. As she did so, a vision of Caitlin appeared behind every one of the surrounding women and sliced off their heads. There may have been a heartbeat between each one as the thud of their skulls hit the floor, but by the time Sybil had uttered the first syllable her entire entourage had fallen.
Sybil let her own disguise drop away, and the stench of putrefaction had Josh fighting the urge to throw up — it smelt like a corpse. The woman, if woman she had ever been, was a bloated mass of writhing body parts, as if many different bodies were being held within the skin of one being. Eyes and mouths appeared at random on various points on her body, while her head boiled with snake-like tentacles, each ending in a vicious-looking array of teeth.
The many Caitlins had become one and she was busy laying a circle of black dust round the monster.
‘What are you doing?’ shouted Josh.
‘I’m binding her to this moment with coal dust, it will absorb her powers for a while. When they turn to diamond we’re out of time.’
‘Why not just burn her?’ said Josh before his brain had time to process the word ‘diamond’ properly.
‘Because I think somewhere in there —’ she pointed at the bulging mass — ‘is Uncle Rufius.’
‘Shit.’
The thing-that-used-to-be-Sybil writhed and cursed inside the black circle, she cursed them in many different voices, all speaking at once in a hundred different languages, the sound was like a demonic choir and made the hairs on the back of Josh’s neck stand on end.
‘So, I am going to need your help,’ Caitlin said, pushing the hair back out of her eyes. ‘We need to access the most recent part of the Rufius timeline, which I’m assuming is the night he appeared and gave you the co-ordinates.’
Josh thought back to that event, running over the scene until he had it clear in his mind.
‘OK. Not sure how that’s going to help.’
She gave him the look that meant ‘just do as your told’ — and held out her hands as if trying to do some kind of Jedi mind trick. The monster turned towards her, one of its hands blindly reaching out over the carbon barrier, and the dust began to turn grey.
Beads of sweat started to break out on Caitlin’s forehead.
‘OK — now reach into the circle and grab her arm.’
‘Are you mental? That’s like saying stick your hand in the nice crocodile’s mouth! I thought you said I shouldn’t let them touch me.’
Caitlin scowled again.
‘Do it. It’s not going to bite you. It doesn’t know you exist.’
Josh slowly reached in and found the least disgusting part of her arm to grasp — the skin felt rough and leathery. It leeched the heat from his hand as he made contact.
Lines of energy began to pour out of the point at which they touched. A collection of thousands of unconnected timelines unwound around him, each one an entire lifetime subsumed into the Strzyga’s body.
‘Now use the memory of Rufius as a beacon, a lifeline. Look for a pattern that matches.’
There were too many lines to recognise any one individual timeline, but he knew better than to mention that to Caitlin. Instead, he went inside his own timeline and looked for connections. As he examined the moments around that night, he saw tendrils reaching out from the Strzyga. Like feelers they curved sinuously out from the central mass — as if attracted to a fresh victim.
‘There’s not much time,’ said Caitlin as the grey circle began to turn white.
Suddenly one line struck out like an arrow from the turmoil, it connected with the moment and Josh recognised the signature of the colonel and pushed into it.
He was still in the temple but it was the middle of the night. It was dark except for one oil lamp that flickered in the corner of the room. There was a body
lying on the floor.
‘Do you see him?’ came Caitlin’s voice from somewhere far away.
‘Yes. I think so.’
‘Wake him up. He needs to realise he’s about to be attacked — he should be able to do the rest.’
The colonel was bald. Every hair on his head, including his beard, was gone. His skin was brown — he looked a bit like a reclining Buddha.
‘Colonel?’
The old man stirred, but it was like trying to wake a drunk. Josh rolled him over onto his back and saw that he was totally out of it. He assumed that Sybil must have drugged him. The wound in his chest was only just beginning to soak through his toga — as if it had just happened. There was a dagger lying next to him — Josh recognised the handle immediately. It was the same one he had stolen from Dracula’s castle.
On the floor around the colonel, someone had drawn a set of glyphs in blood. They were arranged on a five-pointed star, which was beginning to glow.
‘There’s a star on the floor. Made from his blood, and it’s glowing.’
‘That’s a summoning portal. You must wake him now!’
Josh shook the colonel harshly, but got nothing more than a groan. He tried harder, this time accidentally touching the blood on the old man’s tunic and felt the immediate connection with his timeline. Knowing he had little left in the way of options, he focused on the twisting ribbons and entered the bloodlines.
It was a chaotic mess, a jumble of intersecting events, experiences and emotions that seemed to have no beginning, middle or end. Josh could understand why seers went crazy trying to unravel the complex web of the human psyche.
As Josh tried to make sense of the chaos, he noticed that certain events seemed to have more paths than others. Their collected memories stood out like large knots of light — marking them as times to which the colonel returned regularly.
Josh opened one and realised why: it was the birth of a child — there was a woman cradling a newborn baby in her arms. Josh left the event and moved to another more powerful one. This time, it was a funeral, a grave surrounded by the De Freis family and many others — again he extracted himself from the memory and moved on.
The Infinity Engines Books 1-3 Page 25
