by S. J. Ryan
She calculated her chance of holding them all off while the ship got underway. It was not good. But then Archimedes picked up a long pole and yelled, “Hold on!” With the hook at the tip of the pole, he yanked a cord dangling from the boathouse roof. Gears clanked and the boathouse doors parted and by some mechanism beneath the waters the boat was forcefully ejected out into the bay while the soldiers in the boathouse watched helplessly.
All of bodily advantages are naught in battle, Carrot observed, compared to ideas and planning.
Carrot knew her father had sailing experience as a fisherman in his youth, so was not surprised as he expertly set the sails while Archimedes steered. The sheets caught wind and they coursed toward the mouth of the Bay of Rome.
She knelt where Geth had lain Matt, and rested him against the cabin wall, positioned so that he would be steady against the tossing waves. She touched his feverish forehead and stroked his shoulder and subvocaled, “Is there not a thing I can do?”
Ivan replied, "If his body is kept free of external disturbance, I will be able to devote more of my processing bandwidth toward healing him."
Carrot looked for a source of external disturbance, then realized that Ivan meant her.
Archimedes gave Geth the helm, then went into the cabin and emerged with a piece of cloth which unfurled into a blue flag with white circle and star, which he raised to the mast. He returned to the cabin and emerged with a silken robe, which he draped over Geth's shoulders.
"You look the part better than I do," he said.
Indeed, Carrot thought as she gazed at her father standing tall against the sky, he wore the imperial purple better than Hadron or Valarion. The soldiers and sailors aboard other ships apparently thought so as well. In a world short of telecommunications, few could recognize a day-old emperor, and so they stiffened to the sight of flag and robe and crisply saluted to Geth's casual wave.
Fixing his grin, Geth muttered, “As soon as we're to open sea, I'll take this rag off and spit on it.”
After a minute or so, Carrot realized they were doing a lot of saluting. She looked over the rail – and caught her breath.
The north end of the bay was choked with military ships, the fabled triremes of Rome, packed so densely that the hull of one was lashed to the hull of the next. One after another, in row after row, the vessels bristled with crossbow stands and catapult mounts as they spanned the length of the northern peninsula, all the way from waterfront to mouth, together forming a floating city of timber and sheet that rivaled the streets of Rome in complexity and scope.
Geth was gaping. “I did not know there were so many ships in the world!”
Archimedes joined them and shook his head. “I would guess almost a thousand. That would amount to half the Imperial Navy.”
“Is this usual?”
Archimedes pointed to barges stacked with crates, which cranes were loading into the holds. Ferries disembarked soldiers by swarms onto the pontoons that connected the ships. The standards of five legions and the pennants of their cohorts fluttered variously from the masts.
Archimedes replied, "It's a rare sight but I've seen smaller versions before. They're staging the logistics for a campaign."
“The what for a what?” Geth asked.
“A campaign is a series of battles as part of a war,” Carrot said. “Logistics are the supplies needed to support the soldiers in campaign.”
Archimedes was looking at her, but didn't say anything.
They exited the Mouth of Rome and entered open sea. With the northern hills no longer in their way, they saw the spires of the fortress of the Isle of the Sisters.
Carrot shuddered and clutched Geth's sleeve and said, “Steer well clear of that island, Father.”
“What? Oh, uh, yes, Arcadia.” Once he regained composure, Geth steered sharply west.
“Where do you think you're going?” Archimedes demanded.
“To Britan, of course,” Geth replied.
“You'll never get there in time.”
“What do you mean?”
Archimedes scowled. “Where do you think those ships back there are heading?”
Geth blinked. Carrot wondered how the thought had evaded her too. Perhaps the enormity of the disaster was too much to consciously admit at first. But as soon as Archimedes hinted, it was obvious. With Hadron out of the way, Valarion was free to implement the will of the Sisters, and the resources of the Empire would be committed to the subjugation of Britan.
Geth stared grimly ahead. “All the more reason we must return home in haste, so that we can give warning.”
“No fleet goes anywhere without scouting squadrons preceding it,” Archimedes said. “There'll be fifty ships ahead of us and we'll be intercepted easily. At any rate, I have a better course of action. If you will head east, I can promise that you will reach Britan in half the time or less. Also, you will bring back with you an advantage that could be decisive against the Romans.”
“And how can this be?”
Archimedes described.
Carrot recalled the motor noises from the basement and said, “Of course! A zepplin!”
“Actually, it's pronounced 'zepallion,'” Archimedes said. “But that's not important right now. What's important is that it's on Steam Island and ready to go, and I'm giving it to you and the people of Britan rather than Valarion and his patrician-thugs.”
Geth laughed mirthlessly. “A ship that travels through the air above! You expect me to believe such a fable?”
“Seeing that you believe that a wizard fell from the stars, I don't see how your imagination chokes upon a motorized balloon.”
“There is absolutely no way that I'm – “
Carrot placed a hand on his shoulder and said, “Father.”
Geth wore the same confused look as he had the first time she'd said it.
“Yes . . . uh . . . Arcadia.”
“After all I've seen in Rome, I believe Archimedes has an airship. I believe the Wizard would tell you to go and get it. If the Emperor has it, there is no hope for Britan. If we have it, we might yet stop him. Please, Father.”
Geth was quiet. “Arcadia . . . are you sure?”
“Yes, Father.”
Geth stared silently. Then he steered east, still heeding Carrot's admonition to avoid the Isle of the Sisters.
Archimedes monitored Mount Enta. Upon the slopes that ascended above the city, a signal flickered with the reflected light of the afternoon sun.
“They're alerting the fleets,” he said. “I don't suppose bits of cloth will be an effective disguise for much longer.”
Geth glanced sternward and Carrot followed. Several triremes were emerging from the Mouth, oars splashing in synchronicity, steering so as to keep their bows pointed at the fleeing boat.
“They're after us,” Carrot said.
“With the breeze as it is they'll overtake us,” Geth said, and addressed Archimedes,“Wizard of Rome, I hope you're not out of magic.”
“One more trick for today,” Archimedes replied. “Carrot, help me with the spinnaker.”
Together they unfurled a new sail, that billowed ahead of the bow like a parachute. With the added speed, they watched as the triremes slowed in their rate of closure. Soon, as the oarsmen tired, the ships shrank and vanished beneath the horizon.
“Onto Steam Island,” Archimedes said. He consulted compass and sextant and pointed. “You'll want to head that way.”
Carrot consulted Ivan. “There are navy ships in that path. We must go farther south.”
“And how would you know? Oh never mind! You heard her, Geth. The captain has spoken.”
“Aye,” Geth said. “By the way, does this boat of yours have a name?”
“Eureka.”
“Ah. The ancient tale of the washtub.”
“You know of that?”
“We are not all ignorant barbarians in Britan.”
“Hmm, I seem to have a tendency to underestimate people.” Archimedes glanced toward Carrot. “At lea
st when it comes to your family.”
And so they bore east, toward Steam Island. Carrot, meanwhile, returned to Matt's side and inquired of Ivan, “How is he?”
“He is in the process of recuperation. Carrot, thank you for your assistance in protecting him.”
Sensing a moment of calm, Carrot carried Matt into the cabin and set him on a bunk. She tucked blankets beneath the mattress so that he wouldn't fall out. She knelt and touched his forehead. It felt no warmer than the air.
I wish I knew how to cry, she thought. Then she touched the dried tears on her face and wondered, When did that start?
She looked at Matt's bloodless complexion and thought of how close she and him had come to death. What if Ivan could not revive him?
Few Ne'arthians had gods but nearly all believed in an afterlife. Carrot was open-minded, but wondered what a soul was and how much survived the crossing. Did one receive a fresh spiritual body, or was one reduced to a wisp? Were there new realms of light beyond death, or only shadows? And was there room for spirit and afterlife in Matt's science?
"Carrot," Ivan said. "You are squeezing too hard."
Carrot released Matt's hand. She rested her head over his heart and listened to its regulated beating.
“Carrot, for your information, Matt should regain consciousness in about six hours.”
“That's good. Ivan, in the meantime . . . could you tell me what you know about the science and crafting of airships?”
After a few minutes, Ivan halted his dissertation and let Carrot drift asleep.
48.
Matt's eyes fluttered open and he found himself staring at a wooden ceiling. The bed pitched and he heard the creaks of timbers and laps of waves. Carrot leaned over him and smiled in the dim cabin light.
“Ivan said you would be coming around."
He yawned and stretched. “Last thing I remember was the Coliseum.”
“We escaped through the sewer, and now we're on Archimedes' boat.”
“Going to Britan?”
"Steam Island."
“So you know about the – ?”
“Airship? Yes, Ivan told me about it.”
"I couldn't tell you because Archimedes swore me to secrecy.”
“You are afraid I'm angry at you, aren't you? Would you like something to eat?”
He nodded solemnly. She hummed in the galley while Ivan filled him in on status.
"It is currently night," Ivan concluded. "Our velocity is ten kilometers per hour due west. Our arrival will be in twelve hours. Dawn will be in eight hours. Next Hermanrise will be in twenty-five minutes. I have highlighted the locations of Roman military vessels in this area."
Matt closed the pop-ups. "Looks like we're safe for now."
Off to see the airship, he thought. After all this time on Ne'arth, the thought of a ship that flew through air seemed as exotic as star pods and proton cannons.
She brought a bowl of mashed grains and vegetables. "Sorry we haven't much choice."
He tasted and raised his eyebrows. "You're a good cook."
"Don't be astounded. I was told by many a neighbor that I would grow to be an excellent farmer's wife."
Suspecting her fate lay in another direction, Matt smiled back.
He ate quietly and listened to her describe in greater detail her experience with Pandora. Although he didn't say anything, he found it most disturbing that Pandora seemed to have a 'wireless' connection directly into Carrot's cerebrum. If he hadn't given her Ivan Lite, Carrot's personality would have been obliterated and her body would have become a shell for yet another servant of Pandora.
Listening, Ivan commented, “I do not regard Pandora as a significant challenge in terms of processor bandwidth. Computer hardware and software both improved significantly between the time that she and I were made.”
“Yes,” Matt said, “but you're designed to fit inside a skull and she's got practically the whole box. So she has a lot more room for brains even if yours are smarter per cubic centimeter.”
“Yet even Ivan Lite was able to defeat her.”
“He was part of you and you've been exposed to the biggest internet there is, so you're both much more skilled at cyberfighting than she is. But she's a first-class AI and she'll learn quick. Next time won't be so easy.”
“Last time wasn't so easy,” Carrot said. “I never felt so helpless.”
Matt put the bowl aside and noticed the blood caked onto the front of his jumpsuit. He started to wipe it off and Carrot pointed to the door topside.
Above deck, the stars made a powdered canopy. Geth was at the helm while Archimedes was puffing a long-stemmed pipe. They exchanged nods with Matt and resumed their conversation. Matt leaned over the rail and brisked away the crystallized blood. Then he became mesmerized by phosphorescence upon their wake and barely noticed when Carrot joined him.
"Your clothing,” she said. “There is no stain and it is completely mended!”
"Self-repairing,” he replied. “Or maybe I should just say, Earth Sorcery."
"I suspect as much." She tilted her head southward. "Can you show me the
star of Aer – of Earth?"
He pointed toward a yellow star skimming the horizon. "That's Sol. Home sun of humanity.”
“I guess I knew it would be, but . . . the star is so ordinary.”
He glanced at the rail and saw their arms were centimeters apart. Her face was dark but her eyes sparkled with moonlight.
“Thank you Matt,” she said. “For coming to the arena for me, for fighting the Emperor. But why would you risk your life like that?”
“For you, of course.”
She rested her hands on the rail, her chin on her hands. “But all I am is a freak.”
“Freakishly beautiful.”
She looked up and grinned. “Still not a wizard with words.”
He reached out to touch her hand. “Carrot – “
Carrot stiffened. "My father is watching!"
Matt made a sidelong glance at the helm. Geth was pretending to be interested in the gulls. Archimedes bobbed his pipe in acknowledgment. Matt retracted his hand.
"Matt," said Ivan. "I am receiving contradictory readings. Your brain is responding as if your arm is burning, though objective readings indicate that it is not. Perhaps you have not fully recuperated from your injury."
Matt read Carrot's expression. “Ivan, is your link with Ivan Lite still transmitting?”
“Yes.”
“Please turn it off.” To Carrot he said, “I hope you don't mind.”
“Not at all. A boy has got to have a little privacy.” She glanced at the helm and sighed. “Yet how much different our lives would have been, had he and I communicated more.”
“There's still time. You're young.”
“I agree that I am young, but I wonder if there is still time. Now we're going back to Britan and the fighting will be much worse than before. He and I may not survive.”
“The airship will help you. I will help you.”
“Will you fight for us?”
“I'm all out of fire from the sky.”
“That's not true, Matt. And there are many other things you could do for us, I know.”
Matt paused. “Carrot, I understand it's different for you, you're fighting for survival. But I came from a time when we had just awakened to the fact that for centuries our leaders had been controlling us with wars and threats of wars. The only way we were able to break free was to refuse to fight each other anymore.”
“If we are not to fight the Romans, they will enslave us all.”
“Carrot, when Valarion was in the Senate and explained the reason why he wanted to attack Britan, he didn't say, 'Because we can make its people our slaves.' Instead, he claimed Britan was going to attack Rome. And that's how it works. The leaders trick the people into war by making everyone afraid of everyone else.”
“That may have been true on Earth, Matt, and it may be true in Rome as well. But in Britan, we know t
hat if we do not fight the Romans, they will enslave us all.”
“Think of what an example you would make if you did not fight.”
“They would simply commit aggressions against their own people and accuse us of having done them.”
“You don't know that for – “ Then he remembered the events of the past day. “Okay, they probably would do that. But there's got to be a solution other than war, Carrot. Your world is already starting its industrial revolution. You could have centuries of prosperity ahead, if you can just avoid war and tyranny.”
“I think that will be harder to do here than on Earth. Do not forget, Matt, what Pandora told me herself. This world was crafted for conflict.”
They lapsed into silence and finally Carrot said, “We have time to sleep and I will take it. Good night, Matt.”
As she headed for the cabin, Matt said, “Good night, Carrot. And thanks for saving me too.”
She flashed a smile.
The next morning, a speck on the horizon developed into Steam Island. It was surrounded by active sea vents, causing the waters to literally boil in spots and envelop the island in vapor. It reminded Matt of an ancient tale of his people, about a fog-shrouded island upon which dwelt a giant ape. He tried to remember if the story had a happy ending.
From the sea, the only signs of habitation were a pier and a few huts in a lagoon. Prin, Andra, and Landar met them as they moored.
"Where are the workers?" Archimedes asked.
"They evacuated after we received the courier bird," Prin replied. No one had to ask what the message had been. "We're about to leave ourselves, once we destroy the zepallion."
"Change in plans," Archimedes said. "We're taking it."
"It's in no condition for flight."
“I'll see what I can do,” Matt said.
He jumped onto the pier and they followed the scientists upon a winding trail through the jungle. A few minutes into their trek, Carrot stopped and sniffed.
“Roman soldiers are here,” she said.
They all listened. Birds chirped, leaves rustled.
"How would you know that, dear?" Andra asked.
"Because of the oil they use to polish their swords.”
Andra raised an eyebrow.
"You had to ask," Archimedes said. "What else, Carrot?"
