by Ian Miller
"So, why are you telling me?"
"Because you speak Latin and ancient Greek. Because of the limitations of relativity, this one last chance commences on Rhodes in the first century."
"How could that help?" It was unbelievable that anything on Rhodes in the first century could affect the outcome of an event in the twenty-fifth century.
"By getting alien help. This new time-line goes through an alien civilization that we know was exterminated," Professor Grenfell explained.
"You mean . . ?"
"I mean that a newly generated timeline shows that if this Roman accepts an opportunity to be abducted in a space vehicle, and if he can get to this planet Ulse, and if once there he does certain things, he may return and with one other he could solve this problem for us," Dr Chu said.
"And why do we think this Roman could solve a problem that an advanced civilization couldn't?" Athene asked. "It just isn't possible."
"No, just highly improbable," Chu shrugged.
"In fact," Professor Grenfell added with a wry smile, "following the paradox, a future timeline for that civilization has formed with a similar intensity as this Roman's alternative timeline, which is consistent with this Roman's arrival altering the future of this alien civilization."
"But in reality, this Roman didn't do any of this, did he?" Athene asked.
"No, he didn't, seemingly because sufficient cause could not be put in place until the paradox occurred. So you, Pallas Athene, have to play Goddess again."
"Why do you think I can make the difference?"
"First, that a new timeline appears means that it commenced with something that only happened because the paradox happened, which means someone has to put that cause in place. We hope you can do that."
"So what do you want me to do?"
"Several things have to happen," Professor Grenfell explained. "To get to this alien civilization, the Roman has to board a space ship. As it happens, an alien zoo-specimen collector was nearby. I have enticed that ship to land at a place where our Roman could be abducted . . ."
"How did you manage that?" Athene asked.
"I played on his greed," Grenfell smiled. "There is to be a major battle near where we hope to get our Roman abducted. I have persuaded this collector to visit the site and record the battle. He could make far more from the rights to that recording than he could ever make selling specimens, so the alien will land and put up recording equipment."
"That's cunning," Athene said.
"So that gets us an alien space ship on the site. You must persuade the Roman to be abducted."
"Even if he gets abducted," Athene replied dubiously, "what good does that do?"
"According to Ulsian law, the abduction of a person whose work could alter the path of his civilization is a major crime, in which case both the perpetrator and the victim have to be taken to Ulse. So, the key to getting him there is to turn him into somebody who otherwise could have altered the future of Earth."
"And that something is?"
"Science is our best bet," Dr Chu said, "because our subject almost made a discovery. You have to persuade him to do so."
"That sounds simple," she said sarcastically.
"Yes, and there's more. This Roman was highly original as a military strategist, and that must not change."
"The science gets him noticed by the aliens," Grenfell explained, "but once he gets there he has to do something to change the aliens' future. That will not be science."
"It won't be military either," Black muttered. "They'll have got past swords."
"Yes, they got past swords," Grenfell shook his head in despair, "but it could be like the so-called butterfly effect. Maybe he inspired someone to do something different. These aliens had a record of continuous losses until they were wiped out. Maybe . . ."
"We don't know what he did, or, with the other way of looking at it, is yet to do, because the alternative timeline's too weak to visualize," Dr Chu interrupted, "but we get more than one go at this. If I'm correct and the science is critical, because probabilities of different steps are multiplied together, fixing that will strengthen the overall signal, then we can see what we have to do next. As an aside, we know this works because diverting that space ship has already improved the signal strength of this alternative timeline. We know we can improve our chances."
"What do we think happened to this Roman?" Athene asked.
"During the invasion of Britain he and some close family members were killed by Celts," Dr Chu explained, "and until then, as much as possible must remain unchanged so we don't simply replace one paradox with another. Some of Vespasian's men caught up with the Celts and killed all of them, so we're in luck: since everybody in this incident dies, our altering what happened by taking the Roman and any others off-world won't create another paradox. Since we get more than one go, we try for one big change at a time, so two guesses don't cancel out each other."
"So what do I do specifically?"
"This new time-line commences at a temple to . . . like to guess?"
"How would I know?" she frowned.
"To you!"
"What?"
"The Roman falls asleep between two large stone objects and underneath a statue in a disused temple to Pallas Athene," Chu smiled, "which I thought might appeal to you. Do what you can just before he wakes, then if the overall probability of resolving the paradox improves, the intensity of the line increases and we get more detail. Then you can have another go, a little earlier. You get about six attempts. After that, well . . ."
"What do I know about this Roman?"
"Fortunately, quite a bit, because he featured strongly in a thesis about why Roman science did not advance. Four students spent quite a lot of time viewing him, and we have their recordings. I'll download the notes into your notebook, if you wish."
"So you want me to give him a quick physics lesson?"
"No! I am afraid he must make the discovery himself. You must inspire him."
"I don't want to be unduly negative," Athene said, "but I just don't believe you can turn a Roman soldier into a leading physicist . . ."
"We know it's not easy," Chu nodded, "but it's our only chance to undo this disaster. According to the thesis, he was toying with the heliocentric theory, and had a debate with his teacher. He lost that debate when his teacher provided physical proof that the Earth could not travel around the sun and he gave up; his attitude could be summarized as Aristotle was obviously right, and in any case, who cares? So you must inspire him to greater things and also give him information that will get him through a couple of crises."
"There's another reason he must prove his heliocentric theory," Grenfell added. "We're asking a Roman to board an alien space ship and comprehend what's going on. When told, he must accept there are other planets going around other stars."
"We're asking him to do what Galileo did from roughly the same starting point," Chu added. "He nearly did it, so it's possible, if he can undo Aristotle's errors."
"But he didn't do it," Athene pointed out.
"The hardest part of making a discovery," Dr Chu smiled, "is convincing yourself that you can, that it's possible."
"Are you sure I'm the right person to . . ."
"Oddly enough, yes," Chu smiled. "If you could inspire what would have become a wine-sodden nothing to change his life and write two of the greatest pieces of literature of classical times, you can do this."
"I don't know enough about physics," she warned, although secretly she was very pleased with herself to receive such an accolade.
"You don't have to," Chu nodded supportively. "What you have to do is prod him in the right direction. I'll tell you what you should tell him, but leave you to work out how to say it. Will you do it?"
"I'll try," she replied. "I mean, it's not as if I've much choice, is it?"
"It's when you've got no choice you tend to make the right one," Chu smiled. "If we can help in any way, ask, but don't waste time. There will be no further su
pplies of food or spare parts, and we do not know how long this will take."
"Do we know how long we can exist in this state of paradox?"
"Until the paradox is resolved or until we run out of food," Dr Chu said. "The instant our interventions cannot resolve the issue in our favour, or, for that matter, we give up trying, we cease to exist, as does the human civilization."
"We are devoting much of our nuclear energy to life support and growing vegetables," Grenfell added. "However, there is a problem. The viewer is very energy hungry, and when we use the viewer, we have to turn off certain life-support functions. If we over-use it, we shall degrade our own environment to an extent that we shall not survive."
"One of the other odd things about where we are," Dr Chu added, "is that since we are not connected directly to the rest of the Universe and cannot get energy in, it is also rather difficult to get rid of spare heat. If we cannot work out a way to get rid of it, and I am working on that, we shall eventually cook. The good news is that the viewer gets rid of energy, but the bad news is it does not get rid of heat."
"Suppose he doesn't accept me as a goddess?"
"I have an idea to help that along," Grenfell offered. "We get him to recognize you."
"How? I mean I can try in the dream, but if he rejects that . . ."
"We have to dress you up to look the part, and we have to do this twice. What I want you to do is to persuade the builders of this little temple to erect a statue that looks like you. That way, our Roman will recognize you in his dreams."
"Is there an available sculptor?" Athene frowned.
"There was always a statue, and all we want to do is alter what it looks like. As it happens, we know that we can get a chance at him before he does your face."
"So you're going to dress me up as a goddess? Have we got what we need to make it look real?" Athene was somewhat doubtful that this could be done, after all, the temporal satellite was not exactly filled with theatrical material.
"The sculptor will dress you for the statue, and after that it is only your face that counts. But there is one more thing. This has to be an unusual statue. What I suggest is that you persuade the sculptor to show you thinking. Power and bombast simply won't do."
"To add to it," Chu smiled, "I'll make you something that glistens and looks like a laurel wreath crown. We can still put on some theatrics."
"Can we do this in stages?" Athene asked. "Firm up one step, then . . ."
"We get one chance up until the alien civilization is resolved. At that point, their commitment to help, assuming we can get it, could lead to their arranging further communication, so the top priority is to get him there. However, in the later efforts you should also give one or two clues about the subsequent timeline, just in case, and also to stop him branching out into some further non-productive line."
"You don't want him becoming a prophet," she nodded.
"No, and there's another catch. While he must make these discoveries, he has to keep them secret until he gets abducted. The requirement that he could have changed the way Rome developed but for the abduction depends on his not having already done it."
"Further complications!" Athene nodded. "As if this weren't hard enough already."
"I know," Dr Chu smiled, "but I've got faith in you."
That might be misplaced, Pallas Athene thought as she stared at the notes in front of her. All she had to do was save two civilizations. This time she might have to earn that "Goddess" title she had given herself, and since there was no guarantee she would be born on the new timeline that would be created, she might end up being truly mythological.
* * *
Athene stared dolefully at the controls. This would be her last attempt, and she had to time it very well. Up until her previous attempt she had been so confident. Each previous attempt had worked surprisingly well, she had gathered so much information, she had discovered how her Roman would respond to what stimulus, and she had been so sure the last effort would really be the last. But it had not worked. Everything had gone off at a tangent at the end, and she was unsure why. Ralph Grenfell thought he knew: the Ulsians had to feel suitably guilty to let the Roman return. But how to achieve that?
The good news was that Dr Chu appeared to be on top of the heat problem. If this did not work they could spend years in this wretched capsule. She had to make it work! The problem was, there were three theories on what was required: hers, Ralph's and Dr Chu's, but there was only one option. They had discussed this for some time, and eventually Ralph had taken her aside and said that she had the casting vote.
"The reason," he had shrugged, "is that this depends as much on performance as anything. You could have the right approach but if you are not convincing, it still won't work."
She had thanked him for his support, but she felt anything but enthused. It all depended on her. Great!
She reached out and began turning the dials. She must find the very narrow window of time. Fortunately she had been very accurate previously, which was why she had managed to generate three extra chances. But this was definitely the last. The image on the screen began to take shape. She took a deep breath, and adjusted the homemade wreath. She had to look like a goddess! This had to work!
Chapter 2
Old Libo nodded at his young charge and smiled. "One on one! And no pissing around!"
Before the boy could answer, the top of Libo's shield flew towards his head, while the leaden tipped point of the practice sword thrust towards his chest. Totally by reflex, Gaius parried with his shield, but the weight of the thrust was too great, and he fell backwards onto the grass. The side of the wooden sword smashed across his legs.
'Bastard' Gaius thought, as he scrambled to his feet, and another blow fell across his back. "Miserable cheating . . .' He readjusted his grip on his shield while Libo stood away from him, taunting. He grasped his practice sword, turned towards Libo, and angrily charged, shield to the fore. He was half way across the space between them when something flashed across his mind. 'Don't fight in anger!' He jammed his left boot ahead, pivoted to his left on it, and brought his shield across to cover the blow. Libo had launched at the angry young man, but Gaius' pivot left him striking air. Gaius' shield pushed into Libo's side and as he moved away, Gaius thrust his sword into his unguarded right flank.
Libo cursed, but recovered and thrust back. Gaius saw the blow, and pushing it towards his right, he moved forward, thrusting upward towards his opponent's slightly exposed right. Libo pulled his sword downward, parried, and stepped back. Gaius thrust forward, but it was a feint; as the shield blocked the thrust, and also partly blocked Libo's view, he leaped to his right. Libo had seen his feet, he swivelled, and they faced each other again.
Gaius stepped forward, pushing his shield to the outside of Libo's sword and thrust fiercely, but Libo had moved to his left and his sword struck nothing. Gaius pulled his shield downwards as hard as he could, anticipating the kick he sensed was coming. Libo swore, and momentarily seemed off balance. Gaius thrust with everything he had, but Libo still managed to parry. Gaius saw the eyes flicker, he realized his exposure, so he leaped back, bringing his shield across to parry the blow, at the same time bringing his boot around to catch the knee he had previously struck with the shield edge. Libo swore again, then swore again as Gaius smashed the edge of his shield into Libo's side.
Libo advanced, pushing forward with the shield, to take advantage of his superior weight and strength. Gaius again leaped to the right, and struck with his sword towards the knee, but this time Libo parried.
They danced around for several minutes, Gaius now opting to use his superior fitness and mobility. Libo, however, ignored this, and taunted him for being afraid to get on with it.
"Old windbag!" Gaius retorted.
Libo gave a flicker of a smile, charged forward, then dived to his left to get a clear sight of Gaius' right, but Gaius anticipated and drove his shield into Libo's body, at the same time thrusting his sword down at Libo's knee
. Libo parried, but was not quite quick enough, and again he swore. When he thrust forward again, Gaius simply retreated, then, noting the slight limp, waited until the weight was coming onto that knee then he leaped forward, sword arm raised. He knew the shield would raise, and the thrust come around; he leaped to his left, advanced a pace, and as Libo struck, he swung his shield across to block it and brought his sword around inside his shield to thrust viciously up into the base of Libo's now exposed ribs.
Libo swore, nodded at Gaius, and threw his wooden sword over to the heap of equipment. "Good strike!" he grunted. "Even under the leather, I'll have a bruise to show for that! You've learned all I can teach, young Gaius. Come and have some wine."
"Thank you so much. Perhaps you can tell me whom I should go to next."
"You're wrong!" Libo said flatly, and slapped him on the shoulder. "I'm stopping because you've had enough."
"But . . ."
"Gaius," Libo said softly. "Listen to me, and just for once, stop arguing. I've taught you all I can about technique. The rest you've got to do yourself. First, you did well then and I was trying. But that was practice. Can you do it when it counts?"
There was a silence, and as Libo's eyes bored into him, Gaius replied, "I believe so. I suppose I can't be sure until . . ."
"You can," Libo smiled. "You've been trained by the best. In battle, the enemy is within as much as opposite you. You kill or wound before they kill or wound you. Don't stop and think!"
"Do you tell everyone that?" Gaius asked curiously.