Aeson sprang up onto the balls of his feet, arms wide, ready to wrestle. The gold needles popped out of his limbs and neck and clattered to the floor. His eyes glowed bloodred, his pupils dilated, and his head jerked from side to side as if he could not see what was right in front of him.
Yellow Hare circled around the slab, cautiously approaching her opponent. Her hands were held up in front of her armored chest, a boxer’s posture. Aeson roared again and leaped through the air over the marble block. He landed a few inches in front of her and swung his massive arms to crush her like a bear. Yellow Hare ducked the blow, stuck out a foot, and swept his legs from under him. As Aeson fell he reached out and grabbed her injured leg, pulling her off balance. As he struck the moon rock deck, Aeson rolled portward and threw my bodyguard toward the wall. Yellow Hare twisted in midair and hit the port side of the cavern feetfirst. Yellow Hare gritted her teeth to stifle the pain of impact as she rolled off the wall to stand on the ground.
I started to run across the room to help her, but a single piercing glare from her golden eyes held me back. Two Spartans were fighting; I had no power to take part. Instead I pulled Phan away from the fray, over to the safety of the starboard wall, while the warriors continued their battle.
Aeson charged toward Yellow Hare. She leaped into the air on one foot, lacked off from the wall, and spun in flight to meet his charge. Aeson reached out to pluck her from midair. He grasped her right arm and yanked her closer, but she gathered in this gift of impetus to add force to her kick. Her steel-shod feet slammed into Aeson’s bearlike chest. Ribs cracked, blood and breath blew out of his mouth. Aeson gasped once; then like a mighty tower he tumbled to the floor and lay still, gasping for air.
Yellow Hare fell upon him, rolled him over onto his chest and twisted his arms behind his back.
“Straps,” she said tossing me a knife. “Quickly.”
I cut the leather restraints off of the operating slab. She used them to tie Aeson up and then bandaged his ribs. While she attended to that I walked over to the starboard wall, where Phan sat massaging his throat.
“What is wrong with Aeson?” I said, reaching down to grab him by his robes. “What did you do to him?”
The Middler coughed, then cleared his throat. “I do not know. No one has ever reacted this way before. What were your doctors doing to keep him alive?”
“Injections of Sanguine.”
“You mean blood?”
“Purified blood without any of the other Humours,” I said. “Surely you must know about it.”
“Only from your medical texts,” he said, standing up slowly. He kept his eyes fixed on mine. “I know nothing about its properties.”
“You mean you don’t know what will happen to him.” I pulled him closer to me and the old man shrank back in momentary fear.
“The survival pill should flush out whatever drugs you’ve given him,” he said in a hurried voice. “He should recover within two hours.”
“If he does not,” Yellow Hare said, standing up from the trussed form of my co-commander, “you will escort him into the world below.”
“I understand,” Phan said. I released him and he bowed from the waist to Yellow Hare and then to me. “May I sit down while we wait?” he said.
I nodded and stepped aside; Phan walked over to the operating slab, seated himself in a cross-legged posture on top of it, and fixed his gaze on Aeson.
Yellow Hare methodically set the fracture in her foot and then stood guard over Aeson. For one and a half hours we waited while my friend slavered and writhed in his bonds like a trussed lion. I watched and prayed to Apollo for Aeson’s recovery. The god gave me no reassurance and I had begun to despair when without any warning Aeson doubled over and started to groan.
He lay howling for a minute, then began to thrash crazily, tightening the leather restraints around him. Blood vomited from his throat, drying instantly into a black stain on the floor. Yellow Hare’s sword point was suddenly an inch from Phan’s throat.
“No!” said the Middler. “He is not dying. He is recovering.”
The sharp point of steel stayed where it was while we watched.
The spasms ended as abruptly as they had begun and Aeson lay still, gasping for air. A moment later his eyes flashed open—clear dark eyes, untouched by madness. He blinked twice, then focused on me.
“Aias,” he croaked. “I need water.”
Yellow Hare ran out to the dispensary and was back in minutes with a bowl filled with the last clear water remaining on the ship. J held the bowl to Aeson’s mouth and he drank it eagerly. Yellow Hare cut away the bonds while Phan felt Aeson’s pulse in his wrists, then his neck, then his ankles.
“As I thought,” Phan said. “He will recover completely if you do not give him any more of your medicines.”
Aeson finished the lost drop of water and sat up slowly. His eyes fixed on the Middler. “You are not Doctor Zi.” Aeson turned to me. “Aias, who is this Middler, and what is he doing on our ship?”
“It is a long story,” I said. I sat down on the floor next to my friend and stared directly into his eyes, letting the full spirit of the disaster flow out to him through the light from my eyes. “And a sad story.”
Aeson listened to my detailed account of all that had passed while he slept. Fury grew in his heart, painting his face with red rage as I told him of the actions Anaxamander took in the name of his position. When I related our arrest, Aeson actually cursed his Security Chief’s name and prayed earnestly that the judges of the dead would condemn him to torment. When I described the wreck of the ship, my co-commander grasped my arm in sympathy; but even as I cataloged the difficulties of our situation I could see the spirit of Spartan defiance rising in him, and I knew that if a way could be found for us to return home, Aeson and I, reunited in command, would find it.
“So,” Aeson said when I had finished the tale. “Our ship’s complement consists of you, me, Yellow Hare, Ramonojon who is not a traitor, Mihradarius who is, three guards you have tied up, Clovix, and two Middler spies.”
I nodded.
“The ghosts of our crew lie unmourned,” he said. “But we will have to wait before we do them honor. For now we must concern ourselves with the living.”
“Agreed,” I said.
“Well,” Aeson said, standing up slowly on legs unused to walking, “the first thing to do is free those three soldiers.”
Aeson’s iron practicality was taking over, filling the gaps in my own leadership. A little peace came into my soul; it seemed to me that for the first time in weeks, I would be able to concern myself only with that half of command which was my duty.
Aeson took a few tentative steps, slowly regaining his familiarity with his legs. When he was ready we walked out of the hospital and up onto the surface of the ship.
Ares floated above us, raining down the red light of battle on our crippled vessel. As we walked out of the cave, Aeson stopped to stare at the planet, and his eyes gleamed with his old accustomed joy in the heavens. He permitted himself a single minute of divine communion before he looked away, recalling himself to duty. Eyes fixed straight ahead of him, Aeson marched to Mihradarius’s lab, where we had left the bound soldiers.
The angry guards sat up against the aft wall, below the part of Mihradarius’s frieze that showed Alexander besieging the high turreted walls of Susa, Persia’s ancient capital. Steam-powered evac cannons shot primitive spherical balls of iron at the guard towers while the soldiers on the walls looked on in horror at the new terror weapons Aristotle had created for his pupil.
The living guards tied up below that scene looked at Yellow Hare and me with the same fear the ancient Persians had shown, but when they saw Aeson their expressions changed into the blissful acceptance that comes over men blessed by the presence of the gods. The madness left their eyes as they stared in wonder at their leader returned to them.
Aeson nodded to Yellow Hare, and she cut their bonds.
The soldiers stood
to attention, eyes fixed on their commander. Aeson stepped in front of them and they saluted him with their hands over their hearts.
“Xenophanes, ’Eraklites, Solon,” Aeson said, addressing each man by his name. “You have done your best to fulfill your duties under trying circumstances. Anaxamander, however, did not do so; his violation of duty will be judged in ’Ades. His orders to you are rescinded. In particular, you are to know that Commander Aias and Captain Yellow Hare are not traitors. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Commander,” they said.
“Excellent. Now, here are your new assignments.” He pointed to the first one. “Xenophanes, you will stand guard over the traitor Mihradarius. Make sure I am informed of everything he does. Solon, you will stand guard over the Middler scientist.” He turned to the third man. “’Eraklites, your assignment is more difficult. You are to watch the Nipponian, but not to approach him. If he tries to do anything that you feel might endanger any of our lives let me or Captain Yellow Hare know about it. Do not attempt to fight him yourself.”
They saluted again and marched in newly restored order out of the laboratory to take up their proper duties.
“Now, Aias,” Aeson said after the guards were gone, “we need a planning meeting.”
“Agreed,” I said. “Yellow Hare and I will find Ramonojon and Clovix, and we will join you on top of the hill in twenty minutes.”
Aeson nodded.
“Aeson,” I said. “There is something more I must tell you.”
“Yes?”
“When you see the hill, I want you to know that I closed the eyes of Athena’s statues, but Alexander and Aristotle were taken from us without due ceremony.”
“You closed her eyes alone?” he said.
“Better that than to let Anaxamander defile Wisdom with his fool’s hand,” I said as we left the traitor’s cave.
Yellow Hare and I went to the water extractor to tell Ramonojon and Clovix about the meeting. We found Ramonojon bent over two barrels. One was the original water extractor, the other one a plain barrel covered with several layers of gray, sludgy cheesecloth. Ramonojon was slowly ladling the brackish water we had extracted from the first barrel into the second.
“Filtering the water?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said. “Where have you been?”
We told him about Aeson’s recovery.
“Phan cured Aeson?” Ramonojon said after a moment’s silent thought.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I do not know,” I said. “But I suspect that old Middler wants to live. Strange considering that he came here to die.”
Ramonojon closed his eyes and began to speak in the Kanton dialect. I could tell he was quoting but I did not know the source. “Heaven endures,” he said. “Earth survives. The reason Heaven and Earth can endure and survive is that they do not live for themselves. Therefore they can endure forever.’”
He opened his eyes. “Lao-tzu, the Canon of Way and Virtue.”
“Thank you,” I said, feeling something not yet born stir in my heart.
Ramonojon smiled and turned back to his work. He pulled the cheesecloth away from the second barrel, dipped in a clean bowl, and handed it to me. My reflection stared up at me from the clear water. I drank eagerly, savoring the sweet, cold taste, then handed the bowl to Yellow Hare, who drank the remainder.
“Well done,” I said to Ramonojon. “But you will have to wait until after the meeting to finish this.”
“Meeting?” he said.
I explained. “Would you find Clovix and inform him?” I said.
“Yes, Commander,” Ramonojon said.
A quarter of an hour later, the five of us assembled in the stumps of ruins that dotted the top of the hill. We sat cross-legged on the bare moon rock in the place where the couches had been. Ares was high above us, shedding harsh red light down to mingle with the cold silver of the ground. The twisting of the crystal epicycles had brought the sun fragment up over the starboard side, adding ’Elios’s yellow to the harmony of illuminations.
The wind whipped coldly through me, biting into my wool robes, but whatever was in Phan’s pills kept me comfortable no matter the temperature. The pure waterless air had dried my skin to cracking, but that did not hurt either. The only pain I felt was that of loss as I sat amid the ruins of work and beauty.
I had set myself down next to Aeson. Yellow Hare was to my left and Ramonojon next to her. Clovix sat down among us, but he showed not the former arrogance of the slave, but the pride of a man fulfilling his duties.
Uninvited, Phan, Miiama, and Mihradarius came together at the base of the hill. The old Taoist, I knew, had been resting from his ordeal. As to the traitor and the assassin, Yellow Hare informed me that they had been conducting a private survey of the ship, no doubt looking to reassure themselves that there was no chance of our survival. Their guards had formed themselves into a short phalanx a little way up the slope of the hill, interposing themselves between those three and us.
Aeson and I opened the meeting with a single prayer to Zeus. “Father of gods and men,” we prayed. “We cannot offer you proper sacrifice. We cannot give you the honor you are due. We can only lay ourselves before you as supplicants and humbly ask for your favor.”
Something stirred in my mind, something large and awesome like a distant thunderstorm preparing to approach. I looked over at Aeson and saw a gray cloud in his eyes. I nodded to him and he leaned forward to speak.
“Our task is to survive,” Aeson said, “and to return to Earth. Are we all agreed?”
All on top of the hill gave their assent.
Aeson stood up. All his Spartan grace had returned to him. He strode over to the remnants of Alexander’s statue, drawing our gazes along with him. Half of the pedestal and one of the conqueror’s legs were all that remained, but when Aeson approached I felt the hero-general’s presence return to the ruined statue.
“Since I woke,” Aeson said, “I have been praying to the gods and the heroes to furnish me with a means of survival. As I waited here on top of the hill for the rest of you to join me, the hero Alexander came to me with that means.”
Elation filled my heart at those words, but distant thunder rumbled again, muting my joy.
“When he was a young man,” Aeson said, “Alexander brought his army to the city of Gordius. The hero had been told a legend about a temple in that city. In that temple was a knotted rope; it was said that he who untied that knot would conquer the whole world.”
Aeson paused. The hackles on the back of my neck rose. In a formerly quiet corner of my heart there was a clap of thunder and a flash of lightning. In that sudden burst of luminescence I saw Athena and Kleio together holding up a globe of the earth for Father Zeus to study.
“Alexander went to look at the knot. He saw a mass of thongs twisted and tied around seven pieces of wood. One of his generals suggested he cut it with his sword. Alexander refused, saying, ‘Not every problem is solved by the blade.’ He sent back to his camp for Aristotle, who was traveling with him in order to watch his protégé carve his way through the world.
“Aristotle studied the knot for an hour, and then quickly untied it. Seven planks of wood clattered to the floor of the temple and the scientist handed a single uncut leather cord to his student. Alexander turned to the general who had wanted to sever the knot and said, ‘The right man is greater than the right sword.’”
Aeson paused again. Yellow Hare’s eyes were fixed on him and a flash of understanding passed between them, a spirit wholly Spartan but strangely unwarlike.
“Alexander’s message to me was clear. Our survival is a scientific, not a military problem,” Aeson said. “Therefore, I am turning complete control of this ship over to Commander Aias. All his instructions will be obeyed to the letter. I am vesting all my authority in him, including the traditional military duties to discipline the crew and to try and sentence traitors and spies.”
He walked over to me; the spirit o
f honor that lay across his shoulders drew me up to a standing posture. He delivered a full Spartan salute, then sat down at my feet. “We await your orders, Commander.”
I was stunned by this violation of protocol, this abrogation of duty on Aeson’s part, but deep within me I knew that he had done the right thing.
“You do me honor,” I said, and Athena and Kleio rose up in my mind, filling me with a great light. “If it be within my power, I will not disappoint you.”
The thunder cracked again, this time nearer to me. The great presence filled me with a vision of the universe. I rose up from the surface of Earth through the spheres, touching each of the gods in turn, until I reached the Sphere of Fixed Stars. I laid my hands upon that ebon ball with its glistening fires and felt the engine of the universe, the Prime Mover, rumbling behind it, giving impetus to all existence. Pure motion passed through my hand, filling my mind with a power that needed to be transmitted. I turned away from the sphere and descended again to Earth to bring that movement to the world of man.
The vision left me and I looked up into the concerned eyes of my comrades.
“I would like to speak with Aeson alone,” I said. Ramonojon and Clovix bowed to me and left, but Yellow Hare remained behind. I looked at her.
“Alone,” I said.
“Not out of my sight,” she said.
I nodded my agreement. She walked down the hill and joined the guards.
“Aeson,” I said, “I know that you did the right thing. But I do not know why it was right. Why did you, of all people, violate the rule of dual command?”
In the air he sketched a sign from the Orphic Mystery. I responded automatically with the countersign. “We are Eurydice trapped in ’Ades,” he said. “Only you can take the role of Orpheus and find the song that will lead us out.”
“How do you come to that comparison?”
“When I woke from my coma,” he said, “everything had changed. I felt not as if I were once again alive, but that I had finally died. That I stood upon the threshold of ’Ades confronted with the problem of Orpheus.”
Celestial Matters Page 27
