Temporal Gambit

by Larry A. Brown

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  “Who said that?” He turned in all directions, but other than Sadie, he was alone. “Where are you? Wait — is this the Ally?”

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  “What modi … oh, of course. He said he would modify my chip in some way. That must be it. So, you are in my head.”

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  “Are you an AI?”

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  Martin laughed. “That’s great! At least, I hope so. What can you do? He implied you could assist me.”

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  “So you caused me to hear John Rey and Rosa in English? That’s fantastic! I mean, we’ve had translating programs for several decades, but not like this. Instantaneous translation in my mind.”

  He became excited considering the ramifications. “Yes, that’s precisely what I may need if I have to journey to another country or an ancient civilization. So far, we were limiting our research jumps to recent history in America or other English-speaking cultures. Say, will I be able to communicate in other languages as well?”

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  Sadie tugged again on her leash.

  “I’m sorry, girl. I’m neglecting you, aren’t I? But I’m feeling better now that I understand what’s happened. Come on, let’s keep going.” They continued down the street. “So what else can you do? Can you help me solve this massive puzzle I’ve been given? Can you tell me what changes have occurred in our timeline, if anything?”

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  “Yes, you said that. But what do you mean ‘at present’? Is that liable to change?”

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  “OK, so far so good. After all this is over, if it’s ever over, maybe you can help me win at black jack.”

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  “Never mind. A bad joke. We’ve got more important things to do. Sadie, let’s go home.”

  9

  Over the next few weeks, Martin plunged himself into a sea of information, searching for discrepancies in the current timeline from what he remembered. He began with internet news sources, focusing on politics, science and technology, and cultural trends. The AI assisted him in reading foreign websites since the changes could crop up anywhere.

  However, he soon realized that most of the differences were relatively insignificant in the larger scheme of world history. America was still consuming fossil fuels. Two presidential candidates in the last forty years had different running mates. The European Union had broken up again. A civil war in Africa had been avoided due to the fall of a corrupt regime. Some good things, some bad things, but nothing out of the ordinary.

  He checked further back into the twentieth century. The first moon landing took place in 1971. John F. Kennedy was killed by a car bomb in Dallas. World War II lasted an additional six months. Certain celebrities never achieved fame.

  Every few days he shared his findings with the Chronos team who, despite Andrea’s skepticism, had received a go-ahead from the sponsor. They searched for some patterns in all the bits of information Martin provided, but at this point they were of little help. None of them had heard of a minor rock-and-roll band from Liverpool named after an insect or the lovely Norma Jeane Mortenson who dreamed of becoming a movie star but died in a car crash after her first film.

  Martin turned to reviewing earlier history. He began sorting through the mountainous piles of scholarly books that had filled every room in his place since he moved to Roswell. Organization had never been his strength. Resembling an archaeological dig, his apartment revealed lost treasures discovered under the couch or on top of the fridge.

  Once again, the anomalies he found seemed inconsequential and random, pointing in no particular direction as to when the alien might have interfered with the timeline. The American Revolution was ignited by a tax on tobacco rather than tea. In seventeenth century Europe, the Thirty Year’s War had lasted twenty years. The reformer Martin Luther had waited until he was sixty to nail his “Twenty-five Theses” to the church door in Hamburg, for which he was burned at the stake the following year.

  By the end of the third week of his reading marathon, Martin felt like admitting defeat. Among the hundreds of deviations from what he remembered, nothing stood out as a possible turning point, changing the direction of all that followed.

  “Sadie, I could use some help. Any ideas?” He glanced around and didn’t see her at first. Then he noticed her lying on the floor beside the bed, reaching with a paw for something. He got down and looked; sure enough, one of her favorite, well-gnawed bones had been hiding there. Using a broom handle, he rescued the old treat and tossed it to her. With a yelp, she scooped it up in her mouth and bounded out of the room, knocking over a stack of books on her way.

  Despite the futility of the effort, he started placing the books back in a pile. He noticed one he had forgotten, a history of ancient Rome. Oddly, it felt thicker than he recalled. Thumbing through the first few pages, he studied the table of contents and nearly jumped out of his skin.

  “This is it!”

  10

  September 9, 2059

  “According to the previous timeline, the Roman Republic existed from roughly 500 BC to 27 BC when Caesar Augustus became the first emperor,” Martin explained to his colleagues. “The empire, at least the western half, lasted until 476 AD when it fell to the Germanic tribes.”

  He held up a book as if he were Moses bringing the Ten Commandments down from the mountain. “In contrast, this definitive volume on Roman history says that Rome existed in the form of the Second Republic until 1372, when it didn’t fall but was broken up by design into the United Provinces of Greater Italy, which in some form has continued until today.” He paused for dramatic effect. “This, my friends, has to be the significant event we’ve been searching for.”

  “Are you sure, Martin?” S.P. asked. “I vaguely remember some of that from high school. Why would Italy’s history be so important?”

  “Pizza? Spaghetti? Hello?” David quipped. To his chagrin, everyone ignored his attempt at humor.

  Martin continued. “Western civilization grew from the roots of ancient Greece and Rome. Our language, our legal system, the political concepts of democracy and republic, our literature, art, and architecture all find their origins in these classical societies. Any change to their history would have enormous impact, like the waves a boulder would make if tossed into a lake. Ironically, this is one reason I didn’t see the turning point before. In both timelines, Greek and Roman culture provided the foundation for who we are today. So the overall outline of our history has remained much the same. It’s the details that have changed.”

  In his excitement, Martin began pacing the room as he talked. “The biggest differences occurred in the early years. Rome never fell, so there never was what some have called the Dark Ages in Europe, a long period of political chaos, poverty, disease, and death. Most historians have revised their negative evaluation of that period, but in contrast to the heights of Roman civilization, the name still has some validity, in my opinion. In any case, our current history text mentions none of that. Rome continued to flourish for nine more centuries.”

  “So if this is truly the case, then what are we concerned about?” John Rey wondered. “If the alien is responsible for our avoiding these Dark Ages, then shouldn’t we thank him for it?”

  “Hey, I don’t want anyone messing around with who we are.” David slapped his hand on the desk for emphasis. “It’s our planet. If anyone is going to screw things up, it ought to be us doing it.”

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And I’m just beginning to understand the ramifications of this alternate timeline,” Martin said. “There will surely be many other changes we haven’t discovered yet, things that truly matter to the human race.”

  S.P. spoke up. “I agree. We don’t know what this alien wants to accomplish.”

  David added, “The Ally must have known something bad was going to happen. He went to the trouble of warning us about it. Personally, I trust him.”

  “But how does this knowledge help us stop Xenox?” Rosa asked. “What did he do to alter the past?”

  “That’s our next step.” Martin pulled out his datapad to write down ideas. “We need to put this period of early Roman history under a microscope and search for anything unusual.”

  “What, like a myth about a three-armed, three-legged god coming down from Mt. Olympus?” This idea piqued David’s interest.

  “Might I make a suggestion?” Andrea surprised everyone with her sudden entrance into the discussion. “Shouldn’t we review the original log from when Martin met this Xenox? Maybe he left us a clue.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like what he was holding in his hand.”

  Suddenly, the memory of the alien gesturing with a metal object in his claw-like hand came rushing back to Martin. “Yes! Why didn’t I think of that before? I can see it clearly in my mind.”

  “Can you describe it? Or better yet, draw a sketch. Then I can do an image search online.” David moved over to his work station to open up a program.

  Martin closed his eyes to picture the object. “It was a bronze-colored, metallic box, a little over twelve inches in height. There were several gears and levers.” He started to draw an intricate design on his pad. “And there was a knob on the side, something like this.”

  “Say, that’s impressive,” Rosa noted. “I didn’t know you were an artist.”

  “I drew lots of pictures as a child and thought about studying art. In college during overseas travel courses, instead of keeping a diary, I would sketch images of the places we visited: cathedrals, palaces, famous statues.”

  “OK, Leonardo. Let me borrow that masterpiece.” David took the pad and uploaded the drawing to the visual search engine.

  Rosa and John Rey stepped to one side, speaking softly to one another. The AI offered Martin a translation:

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  “Hey, look at this. I got a hit already. Martin, we’re onto something.” David moved aside to let the others see the image on the monitor.

  “What does the description say?” S.P. asked. “I don’t have my computer glasses.”

  David summarized the information for everyone. “It’s some kind of early scientific device for calculating eclipses, the movement of planets, phases of the moon, things like that. They speculate it was invented sometime around 100 BC. The interesting thing is that this type of mechanism was centuries ahead of its time. Some describe it as the world’s first known analog computer.”

  “That must be it,” Martin concluded. “Introducing such an advanced piece of equipment into early Roman history would have made a significant impact on the development of technology and the sciences. That would have given the Romans the crucial edge over other cultures, improving their already impressive understanding of engineering, manufacturing, and weaponry.”

  “So what do we do now?”

  “We research in more detail what history — current history — says about this device. Obviously, experts must already know something about it since it popped up so quickly in our search. Find out where and when it occurs in the records of that era.” Martin felt confident that this was the right direction. How he would thwart the alien’s plan was another matter.

  “We’ll get on it right away,” Rosa said with the others nodding in agreement.

  “And now that it appears my next trip will be to the period of ancient Rome, I’ll need appropriate attire. Can someone start creating a program for the chamo-suit? Let’s say a military outfit. I should be able to move around freely as a Roman soldier.”

  “Will do. But Martin, how will you be able to communicate with them?” John Rey asked. “Don’t they speak Latin or something?”

  “I’ll find a way to manage,” he said with a slight smile.

  11

  Chronos Project

  Personal Mission Log: Dr. Martin Chamberlain

  Departure date: September 13, 2059

  Target destination: Rhodes

  Target date: May 15, 63 BC

  After passing through the Corridor again, this time without meeting any extraterrestrials, I’m standing in a back alley off a street on the island of Rhodes. For the record, it’s thrilling to be here after studying this period of Roman history for years.

  To prepare for this trip, the Chronos team researched ancient Latin chronicles by Livy and Tacitus. Of course, the events differed from those I had studied in graduate school. These accounts said that the marvelous device which all Rome was talking about had surfaced first in Rhodes. The authors suggested that a native of the island, the Greek astronomer Hipparchus, had invented it, but in my opinion, even his genius could not have contemplated such an elaborate mechanism.

  According to surviving records, scholars of Rhodes kept the device on display at the Hall of Philosophers in the year when Cicero was elected consul and Catiline conspired unsuccessfully to overthrow the government. This was the information we needed to calculate the jump to this year, 63 BC by our modern calendar.

  My mission is to steal the device and place it on a ship destined to sink, taking the mechanism to the bottom of the sea. Our team learned that early in the twentieth century, sponge divers off the coast of the small island of Antikythera discovered a shipwreck carrying cargo including bronze and marble statues made in Rhodes.

  Luckily, due to Rome’s prolonged survival in this timeline, we found extensive, preserved maritime records to cross-check. This ship sailed from Rhodes on the Ides of Maius and was not heard from again. The wreckage revealed that the vessel was unusually large, so I should have no trouble spotting it in the harbor, which period maps helped us locate.

  My chamo-suit projects the illusion of the outfit of a Roman soldier. Iron plating on my chest and shoulders covers a red tunic underneath. A leather apron with metal studs attaches to a belt. Thankfully, this is all illusion, and I don’t have to carry the extra fifty pounds these things weighed in reality.

  A soldier without his sword would be conspicuous, so we ordered a reproduction from a company that supplies props for re-enactments and films. Hopefully, I will never need to use it. But I must admit I like the feel of it in my hand. While no one is watching, I wave it around for dramatic effect, then attach it to the magnetic strip on the waistband of the chamo-suit, making it appear to hang from my belt.

  As I make my way down the deserted alley toward the busy street ahead, I am reminded of my new companion:

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  “And how long should that take?”

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  I feel it’s safe to enter the street since I assume that a common citizen will not address a Roman soldier unless he speaks first. When I emerge from the alley, people step aside to make way. Apparently the locals either respect or fear the Roman presence here. Better for me since I need to avoid close contact as much as possible.

  The city streets are narrow, making it difficult to maneuver among the throngs of people and ox-drawn carts. One passes by, loaded with an especially malodorous pile of manure. An affluent citizen carried on a litter by slaves holds a packet of rose petals up to her nose.

  Hearing the surrounding chatter, I recognize a few words, some in Latin, most in Greek. Gradually, I begin hearing random phrases in English as the translation pro
gram starts to work.

  “Wonder what the price of wheat is today?”

  “Did you hear about Scipio’s wife? My cousin saw her in the market with Flavius Caius.”

  “Those Romans! They act like they own the world.”

  “Hey there, soldier, want a good time?”

  Before proceeding down the street, I remember to glance up and thankfully so. I barely miss being hit by the contents of a chamber pot, thrown from a second-story window into the channel running along the sidewalk. History texts always praised the Romans for their achievements in sanitation. Clearly, those authors never had to put up with the smell.

  I step aside to allow a funeral procession to pass. They carry a young woman on a stretcher covered in blue fabric. Relatives wear masks impersonating the ancestors who will greet the departed in the afterlife. Musicians and professional mourners follow behind the family.

  Ahead, there’s a food stall with paintings on the wall of the edibles they serve. In front, a stone counter has openings in it holding jars of beans, dates, dried fish, and olive oil, among other items. A young boy is distracting the merchant while another steals some figs. Instinctively I shout at the boys, who laugh and run away. In thanks, the merchant offers me some bread and cheese for free. Perhaps he does this for all Roman soldiers to stay in their favor.

  I eat quickly since I need to find the Hall of Philosophers and retrieve the device before the ship sails this afternoon. Already I’ve lost too much time, winding my way through the maze of twisting lanes. Once I reach an open plaza, I should be able to see the acropolis, the highest point in the city. Ancient records describe the hall as being located at the foot of the hill.

  A woman is screaming nearby. I turn down a shadowy alley and spy two ruffians striking her repeatedly with their fists. Despite my hurry, I can’t allow this to happen without intervening. I ask the AI if I’m ready to speak in the native language.