by Ian Miller
"Why do I feel like this?" Lucilla croaked. "I need a drink."
"It's all right," the Tin Man said. It appeared that he had been watching them, although this was the first time anyone noticed his presence "I have food and water." He opened the door, and laid a tray down.
Gaius struggled to his feet. Before he could decide what to do, he needed information. "Where are we?" he croaked. He took a glass of water, something that seemed to be intended as bread, some cheese and an apple.
"If I told you, you wouldn't understand," the Tin Man replied.
"You arrogant . . ." Gaius muttered.
The Tin Man totally ignored this comment, which only made Gaius angrier. How dare . . . But then he pulled himself together. It was bad strategy to simply annoy what might be his only source of information. It might be true that understanding would be difficult, for after all he did not understand how something that looked vaguely like a man could be made out of metal and then hold a conversation. Nonetheless, if he were ever going to get home, he had to find out where he was before he could address the question of how. Perhaps if he goaded this metal whatever? "How come you're so sure? You think I'm stupid?" Gaius tried.
"No, I don't think you are stupid," the Tin Man replied tonelessly. "You have no means by which a being at your level of development could conceivably understand. Accordingly, it would be a waste of time informing you."
The arrogance of him, Gaius thought. Then another thought occurred to him; he remembered how he had worked out the nature of the tides. He had started out thinking about being in a box that was falling. This great metal object was as good as his box. He had to think carefully, and try to goad the Tin Man into telling him what he needed to know. Whether it would be of any use was another matter.
"If I made a guess sufficiently close to show I could have some level of understanding," Gaius said slowly, "would you tell me exactly what is going on, in words I can have some hope of coming to grips with?"
"It would be a waste of time guessing," the Tin Man said. He gently lifted the clearly groggy Timothy so his head and shoulders could lean against a wall. He poured him some water, which Timothy gulped down. He then began a fit of coughing, and needed another small drink.
Gaius thought about this last comment, and when the Tin Man had finished helping Timothy he stood before him in a challenging way and said, "If that were so, it wouldn't hurt for you to promise. If you're correct, you don't have to tell me anything."
"You think you have a hope of understanding?" the Tin Man replied in a slower tone, which seemed to show signs of curiosity.
"To a certain level, yes," Gaius said flatly, "as long as you make the effort to try to make it understandable."
"So if you do not understand it will be my fault?" Again, a flat, toneless statement.
"Not if you make a genuine effort," Gaius replied.
"And how will you know whether I am making the effort?" the Tin man said.
"I am quite confident," Gaius bluffed, "that if you promise you will make the effort, you won't be able not to."
"You think that? Do you know what I am?"
"You are made," Gaius said, "and your maker would not permit himself to be deceived, so he would make deception under certain circumstances impossible. I am hoping that your promising will initiate such circumstances."
"Then I agree to your terms," the Tin Man said.
"That's a promise?" Gaius asked. Lucilla and Vipsania were staring at Gaius in almost disbelief. They were half afraid that Gaius would trigger the Tin Man to walk away from them, or worse, and half in awe that Gaius might have found a way to make progress.
"It is a statement," the Tin Man said. "As you implied, I cannot make false statements. Guess?"
"We are moving between the stars," Gaius said flatly.
"What?" Both Lucilla and Vipsania stared at Gaius as if he were mad.
"What makes you say that?" the Tin Man said, after something of a pause.
"We went into a machine that went up," Gaius said, "and we didn't come down. We're in the same giant craft, because this door's the same, and you use a little craft to get back to Earth. Therefore we are still up. We can't be circling a star or a planet, so we must be travelling between them."
"Interesting logic," the Tin Man said. "As it happens, the last conclusion is wrong."
"Wrong?" Gaius asked. "We're on a planet?" he continued in both surprise and hope. "I wouldn't have thought a ship this big would land."
"As it happens, you are circling a planet around a star that is not your sun," the Tin man said, "which is close to what you guessed. But tell me, why did you say we couldn't be circling a star, or, since you seem to know about them, a planet, when you had got so far?"
Gaius stared at the Tin Man in dismay, then said, "Unless something is terribly wrong, this should not be possible."
"Believe me, it is true," the Tin Man said.
"Then I must be wrong," Gaius frowned, "but how?"
"Tell me why you you're so sure we cannot be circling a planet," the Tin Man said, "and tell me now. If you wish to improve your future, you have to explain within the next two minutes."
"We're prisoners, aren't we?" Vipsania asked. She stared vacantly at the Tin Man, with the lack of expression of someone who senses extreme dread.
"Or slaves," Lucilla added coldly.
"If you do not do something to change the present situation," the Tin Man said, "you will spend the rest of your lives in cages, as zoo exhibits, on the planet below. The owners of the zoo are boarding now, to collect you."
"Gaius!" Vipsania shuddered. "If you can, please do something."
"Forget the sword," the Tin Man said firmly, as he saw Gaius glance towards his possessions. "Gaius, assuming that is your name, if you had a reason for what you said before, tell me. Believe me, it is now or never if you want to stay out of that zoo."
"Please," Vipsania said. She seemed to sense that the Tin Man was offering an escape route, but Gaius had to go further, wherever that was.
"Gaius!" Timothy half-croaked. "I concede the bet. I believe you were correct, so please, tell him."
It was then that Gaius felt strangely calm. Athene had told him that one future involved spending the rest of his life caged, unless he had proved the Earth went around the sun, and he must tell no person. The Tin Man was not a person, and the zoo would be the cage. "It's rather simple," Gaius said to Vipsania. "If we are circling a planet without power, we must be falling towards it." He paused, then added, "We are also moving away to the side so we stay the same distance, except we go around."
"Go on!" the Tin Man said, almost urgently.
"Well, I am . . . well, I suppose was, convinced that all things fell at the same rate," Gaius said. He turned to a puzzled Vipsania and added, "Remember the bridge? Remember how I dropped different weights off it? Remember how I said that made it possible for Aristarchus to be correct?"
"Aristarchus?" the Tin Man asked.
"He believed the planets went around the sun," Gaius explained.
"And you believed that?"
"I thought I'd proved it," Gaius said, "but it appears that I was wrong."
"Explain clearly why do you think you were wrong?" There seemed to be even more urgency in the Tin Man's voice.
"Because if everything falls at the same rate, we should fall at the same rate as the ship. There should be no force holding us to the floor." He paused, then added, "That's why I thought we must be going between the stars. There had to be a force pushing the ship up into us!"
There was a long pause, then finally the Tin Man said, "And nobody else on your planet had come to that conclusion?"
"Everyone thinks heavier things fall faster than light things and that our planet is the centre of the universe," Gaius shrugged.
"And you believe things fall at the same rate?" The Tin Man's voice had, for the first time, changed, and he was now urging Gaius to say the right thing.
"He's proved it by dropping things
off a bridge," Timothy interrupted. "He also, proved that the Earth went around the sun by a geometrical analysis of the tides." He had sensed from the Tin Man's urgency that whether Gaius believed he was correct was important to their future. "I still think he's right and there's something additional going on here."
"You are correct," the Tin Man nodded. "Both of you." He paused, then added, "This is quite disastrous."
"Believe me, being here's more disastrous for us," Gaius said coldly.
"On that you are quite incorrect," the Tin Man said in his same toneless voice. "I have lodged this conversation into the ship's computers −"
"What's a computer?" Vipsania asked.
"Don't ask those sort of questions!" Lucilla hissed. "We mustn't look −"
"Primitive?" the Tin Man asked. "Do not worry. That crisis is over. Now, Gaius, the force you could not understand. That was generated by the ship itself, as a convenience to stop the crew and cargo from floating around the way they would otherwise. I shall demonstrate that you were correct. Prepare yourself, and I shall turn it off. When I do, do everything gently. Let yourself float, and move only with very small forces. I shall turn it off . . . now."
"What!" Lucilla almost shrieked, as she found herself rising from the floor. She flailed with her arms. Vipsania reached out to help her, and found herself flailing.
"Keep your arms and legs still!" the Tin Man said, "and I shall help you." He floated across the space, grasped their arms, and held them. He then let them go, and drifted back.
"How did you do that?" Gaius asked, as he found himself drifting legs upwards.
"I have little thrusters," the Tin Man said. "Now, Gaius, are you satisfied? Your theory is quite correct. All objects fall in what I call a gravitational field, and what you seem to call, 'towards the centre' at the same rate. You correctly deduced that if you were orbiting, you should be weightless. Are you happy?"
"I am strangely happy to be right," Gaius exclaimed, "but I'm not exactly happy about spending the rest of my life in a zoo, with −"
"That will not happen now," the Tin Man said. "If you are finished floating around, I shall slowly restore the force to hold you to the floor."
"I'm going to land on my head," Gaius muttered.
"You will do so very slowly," the Tin Man explained. "Reach out with your hands, then push up to right yourself. I'll wait until you are all safely upright before I restore full force."
Gaius felt quite strange as he realized the floor was getting closer, but he followed instructions, and after a little trial and error, he found himself upright, but strangely light. Then when everyone else was upright, his weight suddenly returned.
There was a noise, and the ship's creature marched along, with two stranger and uglier beings behind it, all highly agitated, making strange squeals at each other and at the Tin Man. The zookeepers. Gaius stared at them. Strange furry creatures, with long arms, and dressed in black overalls and boots. The Tin Man moved to the door of the cage and began speaking. Immediately, the creature began screaming and waving its arms around. It seemed to threaten, but the Tin Man continued speaking, as if the creature was not there. The zookeepers looked angry, but the Tin Man kept speaking, and then they turned and fled.
"What was that?" Vipsania asked.
"I simply told the zookeepers they had two of your minutes to leave this ship, or be immediately taken to the planet Ulse to stand trial."
"You told them what?" Lucilla asked.
"I would take them to a planet called Ulse. I can do that," the Tin Man said, "because effectively I am the ship. He," and he pointed to the creature, "does not like that, but he is going to be taken there."
"This planet, Ulse," Gaius asked. "Is that where, er, that comes from?"
"No," the Tin Man replied. "Ulse is the centre of a Federation, and it is also from where I was made and programmed. In your terms, it is a little like taking someone back to Rome. He doesn't have to come from Rome to be bound by Roman law."
"I understand," Gaius said, then added, "at least partly. What will happen to him?"
"He will be charged with intervening in the development of an emerging technical civilization, and possibly even stopping the emergence. It is the most serious crime he can be charged with."
"More serious than murder?" Lucilla asked.
"Oh, more serious than the murder of a million," the Tin Man replied.
"Unless you lock him up, I think you will find he will take control of the ship and fly elsewhere," Gaius shrugged.
"On that you are quite incorrect," the Tin Man replied. "He has no more chance of flying this ship than you have. However, he will be confined."
"You may have noticed," Gaius remarked dryly, "he has fled."
"And I know where to," the Tin Man replied. "I have now sealed the exits and I am starting the motors. The ship is moving. Now, I am interested. Tell me what you know of what you call physics."
"First," Gaius replied carefully, "I would like some explanations." The turn of events was baffling, but his experience at command made certain things clear to him. He must learn as much as he possibly could about their situation.
"You will get as much as you can understand," the Tin Man replied. "That is why I need to know how much you know."
"You can explain this," Gaius said. "If you come from another star, why do you understand Latin?"
"We have been studying your planet," the Tin Man replied. "We can send down objects that look so much like your people they can wander through crowds. We have recorded a number of events, and perforce, we have learned Latin. And a number of other languages as well."
"And you are going to catch and imprison my former captor?"
"No, I am not permitted to do that," the Tin Man replied.
"Then how is it going to happen?" Gaius asked. This was a turn for the worse. The Tin Man did not have total freedom of action, and that made him an indifferent ally.
"You will catch him, as you put it," the Tin Man replied. "The easiest way to do that is to wait until he goes to sleep. Don't worry. He has been denied access to any part of the ship where he could conceivably do any harm, and he cannot stay awake forever."
"Neither can we," Lucilla said, "and the fact remains, we are still prisoners."
"No, you are not. I suggest you stay here until I can make better arrangements, and until your former captor is caught, but then you will have the freedom of the ship, apart from those places that would be dangerous for either you or the ship. As for your being asleep at the same time, I can always wake you."
"We're not prisoners?" Lucilla asked, in a tone that showed she did not believe she was not.
"No."
"Then I can see Quintus?" Lucilla almost demanded.
"What is a Quintus?"
"He's my husband!"
"There were eight of us brought aboard," Gaius explained. He had to tone this situation down. "He was one of the other four."
"I want to see him!" Lucilla stood up.
"You can't!" the Tin man replied. "Not because I don't want you to, but because he is no longer on the ship."
"What did you do to him?" Lucilla asked coldly. She advanced as if to tear the Tin Man's eyes out. Gaius stood up and held her.
"He was put off at a planet around another star," the Tin Man said. "By the orders of the being previously in control of this ship."
"Then you must go back and get him!"
"That is impossible," the Tin Man said without emotion.
"You just won't! You're . . ."
"Lucilla," Gaius whispered into her ear. "Don't. He's our only ally right now."
"I really am very sorry," the Tin Man said. "I am also sorry that my construction is such that I can't say this in a way you would believe. It adds to the crimes of my former master. I really am sorry, and I shall try to explain this later, although I am not sure how, given your primitive level of technology."
"What are you trying to say?" Lucilla stared at him. She was angry, but she was
also full of dread. "He's dead, isn't he?"
"That's what I don't know how to tell you," the Tin Man replied.
"By the Gods, I . . ." She paused as Gaius tried to comfort her. "How did he die?"
"I don't know," the Tin Man replied. "If it helps, assume he died of old age."
"Look, that's . . ."
"If I took you back to that planet," the Tin Man held his hand up, "Quintus would have been dead for about six hundred years, even if he died of old age."
"What?" Lucilla stared at him. "That's impossible!"
"You mean," Gaius said in amazement, "this ship has travelled into the future? If we went back to Rome, it would be six hundred years later too?"
"And eleven more," the Tin Man said.
"That's ridiculous!" Lucilla spat.
Gaius stared blankly at Lucilla. The prophecy! He would return to find Rome in ruins. It had seemed impossible, but . . . It was impossible! Except, why tell such a lie? It made no sense. All the Tin Man had to say was 'No!' and that would be the end of the matter. He hugged Lucilla, and said softly, "I am afraid that may be true," he said. "At least we don't know it isn't, and so far we haven't caught him out in a lie."
"We don't know he's been telling the truth either," Timothy cautioned. "All we've seen is the inside of this cell."
"I can show you their cell," the Tin Man added. "They left some shields behind, and a couple of other things. I know, that doesn't mean they weren't killed, but I promise you they were alive when they left this ship."
"What would have happened to them on the planet?" Lucilla asked.
"I am afraid the most likely outcome is that they would become servants. You would call them slaves, but they would not be badly treated."
"Slaves!" Lucilla howled. "Oh, my poor Quintus!" She began to cry. Gaius held her, as she sobbed.
"I shall leave you to your grief," the Tin Man said. "I know you will say I don't sound it, and that's because I can't, but I am sorry, and I really cannot do anything about it. You must believe me when I say I would go back and get him if I could, but it is absolutely impossible. I understand your grief, and I'll come back later."
"And we are still prisoners?" Gaius asked.
