by S. J. Ryan
“For good reason,” Archimedes replied. “My library contains the writings of the mentors. The war is what wiped out the mentors.” He frowned. “Perhaps it isn't such a good reason after all.”
“Good riddance to the mentors and their silliness,” the man who had joked about the elephant said. “They admonish against creationism, and then they teach it. Along with fairy tales about invisibly tiny demons that spread sickness, and that the world goes around the sun when everyone can look in the sky and plainly see otherwise.”
“Their prophecy isn't all wrong,” the senator said. “They foretold of Rome's rise.”
“With all due respect, your Eminence,” the other man said, “it was leaders such as you that made Rome an Empire, not some ancient prophecy uttered by so-called 'wise men.'”
The senator raised his drink in toast. “I will humbly accept the compliment.”
Matt squinted closely at the painting. He noticed at once that the backdrop of the battle was another 'map,' this one of the whole world. He immediately suspected that the physical location of the boxes – if not their original landing points on the surface of New Earth – corresponded to their positions in the painting foreground relative to the map in the background.
He counted three boxes in all and murmured, “Of course. Three seeder probes. For back-up redundancy.”
The woman who had attended Temple School was hovering close by and said, “You know then of the doctrine of the Trinity of Pandora, the Three-Who-Are-One.”
Matt ignored her and noted the positions of the boxes: one in Italia, one on the other side of the world – and one in Britan.
“Ah,” he said. “That explains – “
Then a splotch of blue near the Britanian box caught his eye. It wasn't just any shade, it was the same bright blue as his long-lost jumpsuit. And it was in fact in the form of a jumpsuit – worn by one of the mentors fighting the apparitions coming out of the boxes. The individual wore his hair different than Matt did and he had a beard, but the hair and eye colors were the same as Matt's.
“Matt,” Ivan said. “I notice your interest in the figure located in the upper left corner of the painting. Are you noting the correlations between its appearance and your own?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think that it is a representation of your hypothetical archival clone?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think that he is the one responsible for spreading the myth of you as the coming Star Child?”
“Well, I hadn't thought of that. But a lot of things about that prophecy are starting to make sense.” Matt thought, And he'd be the one to think of me as a child.
Archimedes joined Matt and gazed at the figure on the wall. “If the outline of the map means anything, that fellow is near where you say Seattle is located. Does he hold some special significance for you Seattleans?”
“Seattlites,” Matt corrected reflexively. “Uh, no. Do you know anything about him?”
“Matt, more than a century has passed since that time and there are so many stories and lies about the War Between The – well, as you have learned, even the name is contested. All I know for certain is that the mentors ceased to speak to us after the war and the world was plunged into a time of troubles from which we have yet to emerge.”
Archimedes noticed the senator was close enough to have overheard. He added, “That is, until the coming of the Dawn of the Imperium.”
The senator toasted and drank again. He wandered off, just as a looming head with a smirking expression and trailing cape arrived.
Valarion bowed at Archimedes. "Well, Teacher. I see you have decided to mingle."
“For didactic purposes. But you seem to have driven off my students.”
Valarion looked around. The crowd indeed had dispersed. He switched his gaze to Matt. “So this is your apprentice that we've heard reports of.”
Archimedes made introductions.
“Matt has been most helpful to me.”
“Well, we do need to keep those sewers running, don't we?”
Archimedes glanced about. “Where'd you put your witch?”
“Now didn't you just say witches were paranoid nonsense?”
“Every rule has its exception. And I don't recall saying that in your hearing.”
“You're the only one in Rome uncouth enough to call her that. She's been designated by the Senate as a Lady of State.”
“That says less about her honor than about the Senate's lack.” Archimedes looked around again. “Say, where is Hadron? Doesn't he make a showing before this?”
Valarion frowned as he looked about as well. “You are right. Rather unusual.” The general's attention shifted back to Matt. “And where is that girl you were with?”
Matt replied, “She was taken to have a private audience with the Emperor.”
“A private audience, you say?”
Archimedes watched Valarion's face and said flatly, “Something is going on, isn't it?”
Valarion raised an eyebrow and smiled. “What do you mean?”
“You spoke just now in the same tone of voice you used when you made excuses as to why you were late with your homework.”
“I don't have time for your tiresome mental torments,” Valarion replied, his forehead twitching. “I must look into this matter of the Emperor.” And with that, he abruptly departed.
“He never wants anything to do with me,” Archimedes said. “Yet now he's approached me twice in one night. Matt?”
At the moment, Matt was barely listening. His mind was aswirl with the realization that his 'brother' had come to Ne'arth a century earlier, had joined the mentors in a war that had all but destroyed civilization on this world, and had seemingly vanished without trace.
“Why didn't he try to contact me?” Matt asked subvocally. “Why didn't he leave a message?”
“It is possible that he died before being able to do so,” Ivan said.
Matt stared at the patch of blue on the painting. It wasn't much to go on, given that it was turning his life upside down – again.
“Matt? Return from the clouds, Matt.”
Matt blinked. “Archimedes. When were these paintings made?”
“They were installed a year ago, by the Sisters of Wisdom. Part of an effort to stem a revival of mentorism that occurred due to the appearance of that comet.”
“Mentorism? Comet?”
But Archimedes had turned away. He was watching Valarion, who was standing by an entry, conferring with a contingent of palace guard. Valarion was listening raptly, his expression deathly serious. He nodded to the guards and several dispersed. He took the spear of one of those who remained and headed over to the orchestra with long, quick strides.
“I sense the closing of a net,” Archimedes said, watching. “Perhaps we should be off while we can.”
“Carrot's not back,” Matt said.
“Follow me, Matt. In haste.”
While he tagged after Archimedes, Matt watched Valarion, who was speaking to the conductor. The music instantly halted. Motioning the conductor aside, Valarion took the platform and pounded the spear.
"ATTENTION! ATTENTION ALL OF YOU!"
The hubbub of conversation ceased and heads turned.
"BY ORDER OF THE PALACE GUARD, NO ONE IS TO LEAVE THE PREMISES! I REPEAT, NO ONE IS TO LEAVE THE PREMISES UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE. YOU WILL COMPLY WITH THE INSTRUCTIONS OF THE GUARD!"
"What is the meaning of this?" someone demanded. Conversation resumed, whispered and more frantic than before. Valarion banged the spear again.
"THERE WILL BE QUIET! NO ONE IS TO MOVE ABOUT. YOU WILL COMPLY WITH THE INSTRUCTIONS OF THE GUARD!"
Men in polished armor, bearing spears and swords and wearing purple plumes spread from the entries and lined the perimeter of the hall. Matt realized that he was trapped. Archimedes meanwhile, headed toward a fresco on the far wall.
“TEACHER!”
Valarion had singled out Archimedes. Archimedes halted and f
aced him. Valarion walked toward Archimedes, the crowd meekly parting.
When he was within speaking distance, Valarion loomed over Archimedes and said in a stage whisper, “There has been a serious incident. I'm afraid you must be detained with the rest of us until matters are resolved.”
Archimedes surveyed the onlookers and nodded slowly.
“Well acted,” he replied. “You've finally gone and killed him, haven't you?”
Valarion's eyes and mouth went wide. “Teacher, what are you saying? How do you know of the Emperor's death?”
At the words, the crowd gasped. Valarion quickly admonished, “No one is to repeat that!”
And that, of course, caused the noise level within the great hall to escalate to a roar of shouts.
A contingent of purple-plumed soldiers converged on Valarion, Archimedes, and Matt. Archimedes stepped back and held out his staff. He oriented it vertically. He pressed a stud on the side. He stamped the base of the staff on the floor.
The base emitted a blinding flash.
Smoke engulfed Archimedes and Matt. In his temporary blindness, Matt felt a tug on his sleeve, so insistent that he nearly staggered. He followed Archimedes to the fresco they'd been heading toward before. Choking, Matt saw dimly through the smoke as Archimedes pushed in the eye of an anthropomorphic sun. There was a click, and a panel of the fresco swung inward, revealing a dark passage. They entered. Another click, and the panel sealed them in from the hall. Matt breathed clear air again.
Light from the hall filtered through patches of stained glass that from the other side Matt had taken to be merely ornamental. The illumination was faint, but enough to recognize the outlines of flowing hair and elongated beard in front of him.
"This passage leads to the sewers," Archimedes said. He jangled a key ring. "We'll must head to the house and warn the servants without delay."
"What about Carrot?" Matt asked.
Pounding erupted on the other side of the panel.
“Matt, by now the barracks have been alerted and a thousand guards will be swarming the grounds. I'm afraid Carrot is on her own for now."
The panel boomed and shuddered and splintered. Archimedes fumbled with the keyring, inserted a key into a lock on a barred door, opened the door and stepped through.
“Matt! Come!”
“Go without me.”
“You don't even know – “
Another boom, and the panel cracked in two. The soldiers on the other side threw away the table they had used as battering ram and streamed in. Matt heard the door behind him clang shut. Then his arms were grabbed and thrust behind his back. A soldier placed the blade of a short sword to Matt's throat.
“Don't try anything!” the soldier said.
To the outside world, Matt made sure not to seem that he was trying anything. But to Ivan, he subvocaled, “Start warming up hypermode.”
"Hypermode is at standby now," Ivan said.
"That quick?"
"I sensed a life-threatening situation and commenced hypermode initiation three minutes ago."
“Ivan, I love you!”
Matt was dragged blinking into the light of the great hall. The center of the room had been cleared, the civilians having been herded to the walls by the soldiers. Valarion, amid a coterie of guardsmen, stormed toward Matt. He was not smiling.
Matt asked subvocally, "How many soldiers between us and the deck?"
Ivan replied, "Thirty-four."
"Not good, but let's do this. Go to hypermode!"
"You there!" Valarion shouted at Matt. "Where . . . is . . . Archiiiii . . . mmmmmeeeeee . . . . "
The general's voice dropped from tenor to baritone to a lethargic drone. The lights flickered and dimmed and then brightened as Ivan compensated for subjective changes in frequency and photon flux. Matt felt almost weightless, but at the same time the air seemed to thicken into a gaseous syrup.
Everyone was moving in slow motion. Valarion was barely inching.
In the upper right corner of Matt's field of vision, the number '3.0' appeared, then a subjective second later ticked to 2.9. Then 2.8 –
Matt twisted, but his captors held firm. Matt stamped on a foot. The owner's face rippled with pain and his throat rattled a moan. Matt shook loose.
Matt felt the pressure of the blade on his throat begin to intensify. The soldier holding it had seen Matt's sudden movement and was reacting with lightning instinct.
Matt pitched himself backward from the blade, toppling onto the soldier who still held him by the arm. He broke free and rolled and stood straight. A ring of soldiers slothfully closed. A sword crept toward his chest. Matt sidestepped and sprinted toward the deck.
"Matt, be careful! You'll tear a ligament! You'll break a bone!"
Matt was in too much of a frenzy even to tell Ivan to shut up. The hypermode timer was down to 1.5, half exhausted already and he hadn't even started his bolt for freedom.
"Matt, object at six o'clock!"
A crossbow arrow streaked toward his neck. It seemed to be moving only a few kilometers an hour, but Matt knew that hypermode wouldn't spare his body from kinetic damage in real time. He dodged. The arrow flew past.
Timer: 1.1 . . . 1.0 . . . .
Matt glanced behind. More arrows! Hop right – hop left – duck!
A shadow fell across his face. A snarling giant of a guard had intercepted his path and was slashing with a broadsword. Matt scrambled and the blade gouged into the floor.
Matt saw an opening between guards, and through it the deck. He leaped through the gap and then made another leap that cleared the rail. He tumbled onto the lawn, sprang and ducked through an orchard and around a hedge.
Then the world shuddered. His vision flickered with a blinding flash as Ivan adjusted for the re-transition to normal time-sense. Voices that had been a dull roar resumed being cries and yells. Matt gulped air and felt his heart pound explosively. He tried to move his legs and found them leaden.
"Hypermode reserves are exhausted," Ivan said needlessly.
So tired, Matt thought. "Yeah."
"Matt, Hermanrise has occurred."
"Yes! Get me out of here without running into soldiers!”
“Follow the path to your right, then – “
Matt lost track of how many directions Ivan gave him, but without fail he managed to avoid the guards rushing seemingly on the other side of every hedge and bush. Within minutes, he had taken refuge in a narrow crevice between buildings. Hiding behind a bush, Matt watched the infrared signatures of the guards sparkle like fireflies beneath the moonlight as they ran among the plantings. The sparks were concentrating toward a central building.
“I think that's where she is,” Matt said.
“That is where signal triangulation has located her.”
“That too.” Matt had forgotten about the partition.
"Do you wish me to plot the most evasive path through the guards?"
"I might have a better idea.” Matt caught his breath. “Dig up your photos of the plans for the palace. Archimedes built this place, and I have a hunch that the secret passage back there wasn't his only easter egg!"
41.
Before Carrot even realized what was happening, a dozen soldier-guards streamed inside the Emperor's bedroom, swords and crossbows drawn. On the tips of the crossbow arrows aimed at her abdomen, a moist substance glistened. An imperial guard major entered and made a show of glancing over the bed scene while listening to the servant who had brought Carrot to the room.
"They had been alone for about half an hour when I asked Mayil to offer them fresh drinks," the servant said, indicating the woman who had dropped the tray. "Shortly after, I heard Mayil scream and I summoned the guard."
"I see evidence of a struggle," the major said, nodding to a pillow by the Emperor's head. The pillow looked like an ordinary pillow.
Carrot glared at the servant. "He's lying! I had barely entered the room when she screamed. I found him that way!"
As she
raised her arm to gesture, the circle of arrows raised and closed. She saw the steady glares and slowly lowered her arm
The major addressed the servant, “We will need your deposition.”
Carrot was thinking of deposing a few words of her own, but just then she smelled Matt.
“Carrot, this is Matt,” his voice said, seemingly at her side. “I'm in the room with you. I can't see you, but I can hear if you cough. If you can hear me, please cough.”
Carrot coughed. She scanned the room. The guards stared back stonily. The major continued ignoring her. The servants kneaded their fingers. Matt was nowhere to be seen. However, when she twisted her head slightly, she was able to localize his scent. It was coming from the wall opposite the door – which made no sense, as Carrot had not seen him enter and surely the guards would have stopped him if he had. She wondered, Does Ivan confer the power of invisibility?
Then she noticed that the curtain covering the opposite wall was rustling. How odd that a curtain should cover a windowless interior wall . . . .
“All right,” Matt said. “Carrot, in order for me to hear you speak, you'll have to grant me permission. I want you to speak softly, so that no one else can hear. Speak these words: 'I grant Matt permission to hear me speak.'”
In barely a whisper, she said, “I grant Matt permission to hear me speak.”
“Okay, I heard that, good.”
“Matt!” Carrot continued to speak in the same sub-whisper. “You put a radio in me, didn't you?”
“Good, you learned what a radio is, so I won't have to explain. All right, we need to get you out of here. You're being framed for a political assassination. So am I and so is Archimedes.”
“Where is Archimedes?”
“He's safe. Look – “
“You put a radio in me! That's called 'bugging!' You bugged me without my permission!”
“Carrot, please. We'll talk about that later. We have to get you out of here.”
Carrot shook her head, forgetting that Matt had said that he couldn't see her. “I'm going to stay here and clear my name. Matt, the Emperor was dead before I came in!”
“Yes, Ivan's micro-laser measured his corpse temperature. He's been dead since before we arrived at the palace. But that doesn't change anything. You're going to be falsely accused of killing him. That's what this was all about. Look, I've had time to think about this and this is what I figure. The dogs barked at you to show everyone that you were a so-called 'witch.' Then Valarion lets you into the palace anyway so that you could be brought here. It's all been a set-up, to get you in this room with the Emperor's dead body so you could be accused of killing him. I wouldn't be surprised if Hadron didn't even know you were coming to the party.”
