The Wizard from Earth

by S. J. Ryan

  "And now pull that cord – sharply."

  Carrot hesitated, then yanked the cord. The cord pulled back a hook, which released the arm, which snapped from horizontal to vertical and flung the brick in a high arc. The projectile splashed almost a hundred meters into the bay.

  Carrot burst into a laugh, jumped and shrieked, "I've never seen anything like that!"

  "Not surprising," Archimedes replied. "You wouldn't see catapults in Britan, because Valarion personally shuns the use of catapults. Valarion, by the way, is the general in charge of the Roman occupation of Britan."

  Carrot's smile was gone. “I know.”

  Matt remembered the satellite view of the ridges overlooking the valley where the rebel army had almost been trapped. “I saw catapults in Britan.”

  Archimedes stroked his beard again. “You did? Oh, that's right. He managed to wrangle control of the Eleventh Legion for his latest venture up there, and the Eleventh specializes in catapults. So I suppose he changed his mind on catapults. But then, despite the official claims otherwise, his operation apparently came to naught, so perhaps he has changed his mind back again.”

  “He doesn't seem very consistent,” Carrot said.

  “Oh, he's very consistent. The rule is: 'Whatever Archimedes says or does, I'll claim it's got to be wrong – even if I know damn well otherwise.' He's been like that since he was a child.”

  “You knew him when he was a child?”

  “I was his tutor.”

  “I can see you as a teacher. Did you teach many students, then?”

  “Yes, and many belonged to prominent families and they've since gone on to rule Rome. And I've since gone on to question the utility of tutoring the children of the Roman leadership class.” He smiled. “That is an indirect way of informing you both that I am disgusted with their policies of conquest.”

  “Yet you maintain these catapults for them.”

  “These are for defense. The legions maintain their own catapults. I have very little contact with the legions these days.”

  Carrot bowed to the machine. "Could – could you fire the catapult again?"

  Archimedes rubbed his shoulder. "Perhaps this time Matt could tighten the spring for you."

  "If it's all right, I'd like to do it myself."

  Archimedes consented, and Carrot loaded the sling with a brick, repositioned the ratchet gear, and worked the lever. The catapult was mounted on a swivel base, and Archimedes directed Carrot to swivel toward a target tied to a pole in the bay. Her shot flew well past.

  "I'm no good at this!" she said.

  "Nonsense," Archimedes replied. "The range was impressive and the accuracy was quite good for a first shot. You do need to get the feel for the relationship between spring tension and distance, and then take into account the wind. It requires practice."

  She tried a second shot, and a third, landing closer each time.

  Archimedes observed, "You're improving quite rapidly. Also, you don't seem to be tiring from working the spring."

  "It's nothing compared to plowing a field."

  "Ah, I know what you mean."

  "You were a farmer once?"

  "I grew up on a farm."

  Carrot smiled.

  Archimedes continued, "By the way, Matt, I know almost nothing of your past. Did you grow up on a farm or in a town?"

  "In a town," Matt replied.

  "Seattle, I take it. So what did your family do for a living?"

  "They worked on . . . a system of . . . public transportation."

  “'They?' Both your parents? Your mother as well?”

  “Yes, she was an engineer.”

  “To allow women to be engineers – why, Seattle must be quite progressive!”

  “It has that reputation.”

  Carrot was looking at Matt and frowning. He ignored her and gestured to the catapult and said, “I'd like to try that too.”

  With a nod from Archimedes, Matt loaded the sling. Tightening the spring was harder than Carrot made it look.

  Ivan said, "I can calculate the required tension and angle for the identified target."

  "No, I'd rather – " Then Matt saw Carrot with her arms folded, still frowning. "All right. Tell me what to do."

  He adjusted the catapult accordingly and yanked the cord. The brick splashed within a meter of the target pole.

  "Amazing!" Archimedes said. "And on a first try! Let's see if it was luck."

  Matt loaded, levered, aimed, and released. The brick hit the target squarely.

  "Amazing! Can you do that again?"

  Matt rubbed his arm, mimicking Archimedes of a moment earlier. "I'm kind of sore."

  "Well, we do need to inspect the other catapults."

  Matt was pleased to detect just a trace of uncertainty in Carrot's scowl after his demonstration. For a change, let her wonder what she's up against, he thought.

  As they went from barge to barge, Archimedes inspected the catapults, and Carrot questioned him in detail about catapults. At last, Archimedes sighed and said, “I'm afraid my failing memory prevents me from answering all your questions. However, back home I do have a number of books in my library on the subject – “

  "You have your own library?” Carrot asked. “In your home?"

  "It makes it easier to reach the shelves that way. Now, Carrot, I forgot to ask, are you able to read?”

  "Of course I can read. Can't everyone?"

  "I didn't mean to offend, but it seems to be a rare quality among Roman women. Roman tradition tends to rhetorically revere women while in practice restricting them to domestic and ornamental roles. Quite different from Kresidala, where I grew up."

  “I have heard of Kresidala. Isn't it outside the Empire?”

  “It is, though the Empire has tried to correct that.”

  "So you are not Roman yourself."

  "I am often reminded of that these days."

  "Then why do you serve the Empire?"

  He sighed. "When I came here, it was a different time. The Empire once meant an end to tribal conflict and piracy. Now, sadly, the Empire has replaced tribal wars with wars among nations, and the worst pirates this world has ever seen are wearing the purple fringe."

  "Purple fringe? What is that?"

  "A silly rule, but it sets apart the rulers from the ruled, and so violations are punishable by death. You see, the fringe of Roman robes are restricted in terms of color. Only high-ranking officials in the imperial bureaucracy, for example, may wear a robe with a red fringe. Only those of senatorial rank may wear a robe with purple fringe.”

  “What of the Emperor then?”

  “The Emperor is considered 'Of Senatorial Rank and Above.' He wears a robe with purple fringe, and can also have the pattern of his robe employ purple throughout. Even a senator dares not wear Full Purple.”

  "Would it be possible . . . that I could see a book on catapults?"

  "You're welcome to come to my house and read in my library. In fact, we're done here, so why don't you come to dinner?"

  "I really couldn't impose – "

  "Nonsense! In fact, I know well how poor accommodations are in Rome for a visitor from the provinces, so why don't you stay at my house? There are plenty of rooms."

  "I couldn't – "

  "Don't they practice hospitality in Britan?"

  Carrot closed her eyes and bowed deeply.

  Archimedes motioned for Carrot to go first down the dock, then touched Matt's shoulder and whispered, "Some day you'll thank me."

  “If she lets us live,” Matt subvocaled. “Seriously, Ivan, is he trying to play matchmaker?”

  “I lack sufficient data to make a conclusion,” Ivan said.

  “With her of all people!”

  They departed the base and headed toward the center of the city. Along the way, Carrot said, "If I am to stay with you, I have some things that I should collect from where I am staying now. It's just down that street, I'll be back in an instant."

  "You intend to go unes
corted?" Archimedes asked. "This is a rather unsavory part of town. Thieves everywhere."

  "I will be fine." Carrot dashed off.

  Matt waited a moment, and said to Archimedes, "I'd like to follow . . . to make sure she's all right."

  Archimedes stamped his staff. "I was about to suggest that myself. So by all means."

  Matt trotted down the street and around the corner. He passed windowless, doorless alleys. He saw the hole in the wall.

  He stood a few meters away and subvocaled, "Infrared. Zoom. Audio amplify."

  She was taking a pair of dresses that were hanging from the slumping, cracked ceiling. She unrolled her scarf and broke a brick-sized object into pieces. She faced toward a wall and Matt saw a tiny spot of infrared twitch and scurry toward her. She tossed the pieces at it.

  "See, I came back," she said. "Now leave some for the mice."

  Then she returned to the hole and encountered Matt.

  Carrot said harshly, "You left him all alone on the street?"

  "He's safe enough on a main thoroughfare. But is he going to be safe with you?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "The last time I saw you, you were on your way to kill Romans."

  "You think that I would kill an old man? And he's not even a Roman!"

  "You know that he serves the Romans."

  "I am not an assassin."

  Matt stood almost half a head taller than her and thought, She seems so small and harmless. But he knew that wasn't what Ivan's DNA analysis said.

  She added coolly, “I have a dinner appointment that I must keep.”

  She stepped around him and headed toward the street. Matt followed, a safe few paces behind.

  "Ivan, you're controlling my hormonal balance so that I'm not sexually attracted to her, right?”

  "As you requested earlier, I am preventing your hormonal levels from experiencing extreme fluctuations in her presence.”

  “Then . . . why do I still feel attracted to her?”

  Ivan paused.

  “It is possible that you like her as a person.”

  Matt paused.

  “Or maybe I'm attracted to danger.”

  29.

  Days later, Inoldia was summoned to the Island of the Sisters. From the moment she entered the council chamber, she detected an edge to the scents that made her instinctively cringe.

  Before Inoldia could speak, the High Priestess hobbled down from behind her bench. As she approached, Inoldia knelt and bowed. Inoldia saw the gnarled hand reaching and knew what was about to happen, but dared not move.

  The hand touched her shoulder. Inoldia collapsed with a suppressed scream.

  "You think you could betray us?"

  Gasping to breathe, Inoldia wailed, "I have not betrayed! I swear!"

  "Bring the witness."

  Lesser Sisters brought in a lone figure. Inoldia raised her head. Through a throbbing field of red, she recognized the servant girl who was their spy in the Emperor's palace. The girl was wringing her hands and looking with wide eyes toward the exit.

  The High Priestess said to the girl, "Tell what you told us this morning."

  The girl's voice quivered, "Archimedes returned yesterday and gave a report to the Emperor. It was about prison conditions on Palras – "

  "We care not about Palras. Tell us of the scent on his clothing."

  "As I brought biscuits for the Emperor, I smelled an unusual scent on the robe of Archimedes. It was very strong, as if someone had pressed firmly."

  The High Priestess tightened her grip. Inoldia felt rays of pain emanating from the finger tips of the High Priestess. She fought to keep from passing out.

  "Do you recognize that scent here?"

  "Well . . . it seemed like that of the Sisters."

  Inoldia struggled to grasp the implication. With her mind distracted by pain, she was unable to make any kind of connection.

  “I – I don't understand. Why are you punishing me?”

  The high priest intoned, “Inoldia, in many ways you are the strongest Sister. But you choose not to use your mind. Shall I draw the conclusion for you?”

  The pain intensified. Inoldia gasped and sank.

  The High Priestess continued, “You, Inoldia, are one of only three Sisters who were off the island at the time the scent would have been laid. The other two are accounted. Where were you?”

  “I – I was with Valarion.”

  “We have spies in his house. Lie again, and I will double the pain.”

  “I . . . I was hunting!”

  “We told you to not do that.”

  “I take care. Only at night. Only in the most isolated sections of the city. I need to practice my skills as an assassin.”

  The High Priestess scowled and retracted her hand. Inoldia collapsed in waves of relief. Then realization dawned.

  “You think that I was near Archimedes? That I was . . . with him?”

  “If you weren't, how do you explain your scent on his clothes?”

  “It's a lie!” She turned toward the girl and spat, “Lying girl!”

  "I ask directly. Have you been intimate with Archimedes?"

  “No! Priestess, I would never embrace that rotting corpse! I would never betray the Sisters!”

  The High Priestess clamped her hand atop Inoldia's skull. Inoldia's field of vision went black. She lost feeling and her arms buckled. The High Priestess retracted her hand. Instantly the pain was gone and Inoldia gulped air.

  The High Priestess nodded to the servant girl. The girl fled to the exit. Once she was gone, the High Priestess announced to the council, "My reading is that Tenth tells the truth, or has learned to hide the truth very well.”

  "Yet you also tested the girl," the Sister who sat on the right of the High Priestess said. "You said she speaks the truth as well."

  "I was certain at the time, but the minds of baselines are not designed to be easily read."

  The chamber was silent, save for Inoldia's puffing.

  The Sister who had spoken said, "She . . . she would know for certain."

  The other eight heads turned. Their scent and emanations changed from sterness to fear. Inoldia thought, She? Who was she?

  Then Inoldia knew, and trembled.

  "She has said that she too cannot easily probe the minds of baselines," the High Priestess said.

  "She can probe the mind of Tenth," the Sister said. "There is no secret that our line can keep from her, for she designed us as her own."

  The High Priestess paused, and said, "It is unquestionably a matter that she would want to address. Very well. Inoldia Tenth, come with me."

  Inoldia staggered to her feet and followed the High Priestess from the chamber into the back passage. They turned a corner that Inoldia had never turned before. They descended to a lower level that Inoldia knew only from rumors. There were no doors and no guards, only a long tunnel. The only light was the torch that the High Priestess carried.

  The High Priestess said sternly, "You will speak only when spoken to. You will avert your eyes. If you have a confession to make, make it now, for her punishment is beyond any that I could dispense."

  At the end of the tunnel was a tattered curtain. The High Priestess drew it aside and they entered a small room with damp stone walls. The High Priestess placed the torch in a holder and knelt, bowing her head and closing her eyes as she clutched arms to chest. Inoldia copied the gestures, but before closing her eyes she stole a glance of what was before them.

  She saw a bare stone pedestal. Atop lay a box. The box was a meter long and a half meter high and wide. Rods and disks were sticking out of it. The side was adorned with an illustration of a budding seed against the backdrop of stars.

  Herself, Inoldia thought, hesitating to utter the Sacred Name even in thought.

  At first, Inoldia's rapid breathing betrayed her fear. But then she calmed. Or rather, she felt something that overwhelmed her fear. Something was taking control of her, gradually yet inexorably.

 
"Greetings, Prime," a voice said. "I see you have brought Tenth. Greetings, Tenth. It is good to meet you."

  The voice seemed to come from the box. It spoke with inflection and pleasant tones. It sounded like a cheerful young woman.

  Inoldia bowed deeper and wept. “Oh Mother! Oh Mother!”

  "Prime, I see into your mind clearly, as always. I understand the situation. Now, Tenth, I must see into your mind as well. Empty it of all thoughts."

  At the moment, Inoldia could not think at all.

  "Scanning. Do not be afraid. Connecting."

  Inoldia's sense of the room and her own body faded. She floated in darkness. She was not afraid. She no longer had the power to be afraid. Her will was that of the Box.

  "Oh Mother," Inoldia murmured. "Oh Mother!"

  Pandora replied, "Tenth, I see that you have had no association with the man known as Archimedes. You are cleared of all suspicion."

  "Oh Mother! Oh Mother!"

  “Now, Prime, I see that you are concerned as to whether the servant girl is lying. That is a matter for you to discern. But let us consider all possibilities. You say the other Sisters are accounted for, but their accounting relies on the testimony of each other. Perhaps they conspire. Consider that possibility. There is another possibility I would like you to consider. Archimedes may have had physical contact with a mutant of another line, and the servant girl lacks the perceptivity to distinguish between one line and another in their scents. If so, then we must consider what other line of mutant she may have sensed. I know of only one other."

  Inoldia trembled, for she too knew of only one other mutant line. If the Mother were to know that Inoldia had failed – but then, to have thought the thought here meant that Mother had just read it.

  Pandora said, "Tenth, I am accessing your memories from your assignment to assassinate the mentor's witch in Britan. I see that you attacked both the queen witch and her daughter. The images in your memory indicate that the attack was thorough. I commend you for your effort. However, their abilities are not fully known to me as they are neither baseline nor did I design them. It is possible that their regenerative powers are such that one or both may have survived, and such a survivor is perhaps the one whose scent was detected."