They remembered the inscription above the entrance to the Library: “The place that cures the soul.”
‘Giorgos, which are the places that cure the soul?’
‘It’s the libraries, isn’t it? This is supposed to be the biggest library at this time and for a few centuries to come. You remember about Ptolemy’s ban on the export of papyrus. That continued with his successors. Well, that was the reason for the enlightened rulers of Pergamon in Asia Minor to experiment with the development of a new writing material. And what they came up with was parchment made from treated animal hides. That was what came to be called pergamene in Greek, from the name of the place where it was invented, Pergamon. This would, in the next few decades, lead to Pergamon possessing a great library, second only to Alexandria with an estimated two hundred thousand manuscripts to Alexandria’s estimated seven hundred thousand. I think that in Pergamon may lie something to help us with our quest.’
Aristo raised a hand to shush Giorgos. ‘Just a minute. Didn’t Mark Anthony gift the Pergamon Library collection to Queen Cleopatra of Egypt sometime between 43 and 31 B.C.? And didn’t you say earlier that it was rumoured that the Alexandrian collection was moved by Emperor Constantine to his new capital, Constantinople? Shouldn’t we try to find something there? Wouldn’t that be easier?’
Giorgos shook his head. ‘No, it wouldn’t. That is a rumour. No real evidence has ever been found to support that rumour. It’s just speculation. Any trail has gone cold long ago and it would be impossible to find out the truth. We wouldn’t know where to start. Anyway, how are we going to get to Pergamon while it was still a great cultural centre? It would have to be around 133 B.C.’
‘Maybe we don’t have to. We could go through the same transformation as with Alexandria. What looks almost certain is that we need to get there.’
Suddenly, the bust, that had still been flying around the hall, stopped to rest on a table in front of Giorgos and Aristo. The table was heavily laden with scrolls. And then the bust started to move with lightning speed from scroll to scroll and seemed to be writing in each scroll and once it was done it bound them into one manuscript, looked at them and bowed and then landed next to the manuscript and stopped moving.
* * *
Giorgos and Aristo walked to the table. Aristo picked up the manuscript, but whatever was written there was incomprehensible. Then he had an inspiration. He passed his palm over the characters and, before their eyes, the words formed in the air. Then the words were transformed into still and then moving pictures and a series of places unfolded. They saw Athens and Alexandria, Constantinople and Cappadocia.
The last image was so incomplete as to stump them both. Then straight lines shot upwards from each place and where the lines met stood an enthralling structure, a glittering vision of transparent crystal, shooting sparks one moment and sitting benevolent the next. Aristo remembered his experience in Ayia Sophia on the second day. The fifth line infusing energy into the structure seemed to be coming from somewhere in the Eastern Mediterranean.
Flocks of glorious eagles and falcons glared at the structure, and then back at Aristo. He looked deep into their eyes, and, in pairs, they interlocked into one symbol, a flock of double-headed eagles with the falcons holding them two-abreast and they were marching supported by the falcons that emitted the most wonderful eerie sounds.
Giorgos suddenly became very animated, as if he had been bitten by a wasp.
Aristo, look.’
As the images flew passed their eyes and the slide-show came to an end, there was a commotion at the other end of the hall and an influx of soldiers burst through. They crossed the large space to where Giorgos and Aristo stood within seconds. At the head of the illustrious invading force was none other than Ptolemy himself.
‘Greetings again, honoured guests. Thank you for the manuscripts. You’ve made a good choice. They will take their treasured place in this collection. Before I leave you, I will give you some help with your quest. The answer you seek, the missing piece will not be found where you expect it. The place will seem insignificant, not a centre of magnificent work and scientific excellence, but when you take the right measurements, it will make sense to you and you will see that it could not have been anywhere else. And you will feast on the temple of god and knowledge where the two meet. Find the bridge that binds all that hold this world together.’
Giorgos addressed their host.
‘That doesn’t sound like a recipe for a tasty dish. A feast of religion and science and knowledge, all thrown together in the pot and stirred. That would make a hell of a soup, full of contrasting flavours, bitter sworn enemies and combatants, locked in a fight for dominance of taste, leaving a bitter aftertaste. If they don’t kill you, then they definitely will make one very ill indeed.’ At that he fell silent.
In the meantime, Aristo was thinking about the bridge that seemed to be the key to progress in their mission.
‘Giorgos, you should put pen to paper. You have a way with words, a talent you should nurture.’ Aristo paused. ‘I’ve been thinking about that bridge. Listen and tell me whether I’m going down the wrong path. There is a common thread going through all of this. His Majesty, here, was the pupil of Aristotle and so was Demetrius of Phaleron who helps his Majesty to organise the Library. I suspect that his Majesty, in his cunning wisdom to protect his treasures, has devised a simple system to foil the most resourceful intruder. But he would not have deviated far from Aristotle. Yet he would need to use as basis of this a solid foundation and the closest to that would be Plato, Aristotle’s teacher and, for a certain period, his contemporary, in the sense that their schools co-existed as civilised rivals for quite a few years. The influence of both was very pronounced in mathematics and, by extension, science.’
Giorgos was thinking along the same lines with the heavy taste and smell of Ptolemy’s question still hanging in the air and clogging the wheels of their brains. Giorgos spurred them on a healthy discourse.
‘Philosophy asks the questions that mathematics and science tries or is used to solve. When his Majesty asked the mathematician Euclid for an easy way to understand his seminal work, the “Elements”, Euclid is purported to have answered: “There is no royal way or shortcut to geometry”.’
King Ptolemy nodded and smiled at the memory and at these resourceful young men before him. He interrupted them.
‘If only you two decided to stay permanently here in Alexandria …’ Ptolemy let the thought fade away and you could see his brain giving birth to ideas for projects used to build a great vision of the future with Aristo’s and Giorgos’ role in fulfilling his ambitions clearly set out. ‘I can think of a few things in which to channel your brains.’
Aristo smiled at him. ‘Your Majesty, however attractive that offer may sound, we will regretfully decline. May I request that you do not provide us with any further interruptions, so that we can give you your answer and complete this mission.’
Ptolemy was amused. ‘Brains and respectful insolence. An unbeatable combination. Now, I really will be very sorry to see you leave.’
Aristo ignored him. They were wasting time. ‘You know, Giorgos, above the entrance to Plato’s Academy it is said that you could see the inscription: “Anyone not versed in geometry may not enter.” The understanding of the Elements together with what followed based on them in the fields of mathematics and science can explain the events in our world, what makes it turn and change.’
Giorgos was on the same wavelength, his and Aristo’s minds acting as one, joined in a friendly pingpong match.
‘Descartes followed along similar veins by firmly setting mathematics, more specifically numbers, as the basis of philosophy and theorising about the world. Faith provides succour and comfort and it has its uses. However, it is not enough. It’s there to justify where something cannot be explained with logic and scientific means. They call them the mysteries because they cannot explain them and expect people to believe them. But enlightened people seek m
ore, seek knowledge and seek reasoning and explanation an trustification, which is what leads to understanding and comprehension of all that is happening around us. Religion is what we cannot explain, is a means to brainwashing the meek, but it can also be a force for good where it encourages and teaches people to be generous and good and respectful to their fellow human beings, to their neighbours.’
‘But what Plato, Aristotle and Euclid and Descartes all teach us is to question, always to question and seek higher knowledge and that is what serves humanity better and leads to the greater achievement, exploration, experimentation and then invention and creativity. Because art is also part of this circle of curiosity and the succour of the soul and the mind.’
‘And yet what we have found so far in respect of the last Emperor is next to a church or a mosque, both religious establishments. So science and religion do go hand in hand as a force for good, a force for bringing people together, even if it, sometimes, draws them apart.’
Ptolemy raised his arms to silence them.
‘Well done. You have found the bridge and you are now ready to cross it. Farewell.’
Based on his earlier offer extended to them, Aristo really expected he would try to detain them, but apparently he misjudged him. Nevertheless, they should be cautious.
‘Giorgos, don’t drop your guard. We are not out of the woods yet. Let’s get that manuscript and get out of here.’
King Ptolemy I Soter, Pharaoh of Egypt, or rather his ghost, was gone, but only next door to his palace to join his physical self, who, during this episode, had continued to converse with Hieronymus and a new guest, Eliagos, from a place called Smyrna, fresh from a meeting with Stephanos, a dangerous deployment of time-hopping.
‘Eliagos, I have a gift for you. Our conniving friends next door are smarter than I expected. But right now they are vulnerable, because by solving my riddle, they believe that they are out of danger. They are simply too precious to let them get away, don’t you think?’
Ptolemy’s face turned into a mask of mirth and sardonic pleasure.
* * *
The air went cold and foul, and Giorgos and Aristo started to find it hard to breathe. There were sounds of running feet coming from the other end of the hall and approaching quickly. Aristo looked at Giorgos.
‘I think we have overstayed our welcome.’
Aristo didn’t know how he knew, but something directed his hand to touch the bust with the likeness of the Emperor.
They found themselves underwater surrounded by ruins, columns, statues, huge blocks of marble, a forgotten underwater ghost city. Aristo indicated upwards. They both desperately needed air. They broke through the surface of the Alexandrian bay blue sea.
They emerged on a beach, near the port and the old quarter of Alexandria of the present day.
‘Aristo, judging from the location, I think those ruins underwater must be what’s left of the Royal Quarter of the Ptolemies. Looking at the city, we are clearly in modern times, but I can’t tell whether it’s the same time and year we left.’
‘Let’s find out before we do anything else. At least it’s good to see we are back into our normal clothes.’
And then they saw it in front of them. The Bibliotheca Alexandrina.
‘At least now we know it’s sometime after 2003 when the Library opened its doors.’
They saw lots of places with the current date. They breathed a sigh of relief. They seemed to be back in their own time and probably at the time they were about to enter the Library before forcibly evicted to another era. They again went through the front entrance, silently hoping for the real thing this time.
Yet, with only the slightest hint of hesitation, they entered, once more, the venerated space. A space suffering with split personality disorder, a space that played on two time dimensions; conventional library by day that doubled as a portal to other days and lives of others by night.
CHAPTER 28
Alexandria, Egypt
Present day
Once through the door, a huge space that resembled a cavern opened up in front of them. In contrast to the bombardment by noise running rampant outside, the library was a different solar system, with the merest of hushed sounds, not near enough to register on the Alexandrian decibel scale.
Giorgos and Aristo hadn’t even spent two minutes in silent awe of the hungry-to-share-knowledge beast that sucked them in, when Aristo’s mother, Elli, materialised in front of them.
‘Mother. How did you …?’
‘I wanted to be the first to hear what you’ve seen. And I see a familiar bulge in your side pocket. Is that a gift for me?’
Aristo had totally forgotten about the manuscript he obtained in an Alexandria of another age. Well, it was an eventful trip after all, to say the least. He patted the outside of the pocket she indicated and then put his hand inside and brought it out. He handed it to her with a flourish. ‘A gift from Ptolemy with his respects to the queen of his heart.’
Elli took the manuscript and smiled at her son’s joke. ‘Have you studied this?’
‘We’ve had no time. We had to get out of there in a hurry. I think Ptolemy had decided to keep us. He had praised our intelligence earlier and wished we could have stayed there in his service. I initially thought he was joking, but then I sensed his cold intent. That’s why I could not be more surprised when he left without even a backward glance. Nevertheless, I remained uneasy. I was alerted to the first sign of danger when we heard what sounded like lots of feet on a purposeful and synchronised walkabout. That was not the sound of relaxed visitors. The sound of those feet declared its intent and left no doubt of its deadly precision and efficiency in dealing with tiresome intruders.
‘It was not an empty threat, an attempt to frighten us. The danger was not the figment of a hyperactive imagination. What was facing us was a real danger, a declaration of war. I knew what was coming was an effective sentence as slaves of the exalted almighty Ptolemy, unquestionable and unchallenged ruler of all Egypt and its dominions. My suspicions were confirmed when we saw at the far end of the cavernous main hall of the library a bunch of Ptolemy’s men approaching. We knew they were coming for us.’ Giorgos and Aristo then proceeded to tell her about their adventure.
‘I’m glad you are safe.’ Elli pointed at the manuscript with her forefinger. ‘Do you know what this is?’ Giorgos and Aristo both shook their heads. She continued without waiting for a response. ‘I wonder why Ptolemy let this slip through his fingers. Maybe he didn’t know its significance. Then again maybe he did and it was a rouse to lull us all into a false sense of arrogance, of complacency that comes with easy success, hoping that we would become careless and expose a weakness he could exploit.
‘Or, perhaps, he wanted us not to believe that he would let such a precious object go unless it was a fake and pay it no notice. Another possibility is simply that if he let it go then it is indeed a fake.’ Elli realised she was thinking aloud. She paused and shook off the speculation. ‘Anyway, these, I believe, may be the missing seven pages of the Book of the Pallanians.’ Both Giorgos and Aristo went to stand next to her to have a look. ‘Of course, to confirm my suspicion, I will need to take it to someone who would know.’
‘Where will you find such a person? Aren’t practically all Pallanians or anyone who would know dead?’
‘We will need to go and see Aggelos.’ Elli said with a sense of urgency.
‘Who is Aggelos?’
‘He’s a monk. More specifically the curator and keeper of the library and treasures of the Monastery of Pantokrator.’
‘On Mount Athos.’
‘Yes.’
‘Then let’s go there now.’
‘No. Aristo, you need to go to the site of ancient Pergamon in Asia Minor. From what you’ve told me, it seems that there is something waiting for us there. Katerina will be going with you. I have a feeling she will be of help to you there.’
‘What about Giorgos?’
Elli turned to Giorgos. ‘
Giorgos, I want you to go back to Limassol. I want you to investigate the possibility of an impostor placed on the throne of Byzantium at the time of the fall to the Ottomans in 1453. If it proves to be true, I want to know who perpetrated such an audacious act and why. And I want you to gather all that you found in the tomb in Cappadocia. I want us to have a talk about that in the next few days. Aristo, we are all going back to Limassol and you will, immediately, leave with Katerina for Pergamon.’ She turned back to the manuscript and after a while she indicated on the page. ‘Do you recognise this passage?’ Both Giorgos and Aristo looked at what she was pointing. Aristo recognised it instantly.
‘If I remember it correctly, it’s word by word the passage that Katerina and I saw in Ayia Sophia in Constantinople.’
“The tears run from the tropical depth to the middle sea, and the land cries and the general takes the ancient throne for centuries now vacant, the one-man democratic city shines in agony and pleasure in equal measure, and the golden statue absorbs and consumes the liquid of life around it, but spits it out, unsatisfied, and runs to the glowing horn by the sea, on a golden lamb upon which rides the brother of the matriarch and the matriarch herself … but then changes course for the city that carries the name of the gift to the baby Jesus, now totally destroyed, but chosen to join them all … But beware …”
Giorgos did not take long to figure out the meaning of the cryptic passage.
‘I know what it means. The first part is Alexandria. The tears is the Nile flowing into the Mediterranean and the general is Ptolemy that becomes pharaoh after a hiatus of a few hundred years of Egypt being under Persian control with no longer a pharaonic dynasty ruling it. The second refers to Athens. In name a democracy, but in practice with Pericles it was the rule of the one man. The golden statue is the great statue of the goddess Athena on the Acropolis that could be seen for miles around. The third is Constantinople. The horn refers to the Golden Horn, the city’s natural safe harbour. The brother and the sister riding the golden lamb refers to the legend of Elli and the golden lamb that led to the legend of the golden fleece. The matriarch of the Symitzis family is Elli, which matches the name of the girl in the legend. A coincidence? Probably but unlikely. But how does it all tie in together? Is there something we must do or find at these places? Do they have something in common?’
The Emperor Awakes Page 18
