“Now, Alexander, let’s see what I know about leverage.”
Chapter 33
“Here they come,” Kemes said. “They’ll slow a bit when they hit the shifting winds that come round this point of the island.”
The ship came into view after it cleared a cluster of palm trees. The prow of the ship cut white foam through the blue waters of the harbor. They were turning north into the wind, and the ship leaned to starboard, exposing more of the port side and making the sail quiver as it fought the headwind.
The heads of 16 rowers rolled back opposite the sweep of the oars they pulled, and then pitched forward, bringing the oars out of the water and arcing toward the bow. The rowers kept a brisk pace, trying to put as much of the Mediterranean Sea between them and a vengeful pharaoh’s powerful navy.
They were close enough now so that Archimedes could recognize the people aboard. Standing on the quarterdeck yelling orders to the helmsman was Alexander, sun gleaming off his iron breastplate. In the bow was Pollux, grimly facing the wind, holding on tightly to Berenike’s arm. The ship was only 50 yards off shore, cutting close to the island to make better time. Alexander did not have to worry about running aground here because the harbor was naturally deep, which made it such an excellent port.
Ajax had warned Archimedes there were predators and prey, and Archimedes was no longer the quarry. His target was coming into range and the timing had to be perfect. The steam inside the tubes was screeching and Archimedes knew they would explode any moment. While he could easily calculate the energy created from levers and pulleys, he never worked with pressurized steam before and the results could range from the stone pearls lobbing harmlessly into the beach to the iron tubes exploding and killing all three of them instantly.
He stood behind the first steam cannon and sighted it using his estimation of the velocity of the projectile and the location of where the ship would be in a minute. It was like leading a running deer with an arrow; he had to guess where the stone pearl and ship would meet.
Next, he went behind each of the other two cannons and sighted them, nudging the end of each slightly with the pole to lead the target. The second and third cannons were each placed in the embers about a minute after the first tube, so he estimated each shot would be about a minute apart. Kemes guessed the ship was traveling approximately 5 knots so Archimedes aimed the cannons 15 feet apart. He gave final instructions to Agrippas and ran to the shore.
Being careful to stay out of the intended path of the projectile, Archimedes waded into the shallow waves of the harbor and, filling his lungs with the salty sea air, yelled, “Berenike!” He frantically waved his arms over his head. “Berenike! Are you still afraid of dead bats? Dead bats! Are you still afraid of dead bats?” The commotion on shore caught the attention of everyone aboard ship, including Berenike.
She heard the reference to dead bats and saw him pointing earnestly toward some large metal tubes glistening in the morning sun.
Confused, Berenike leaned forward and peered at the spectacle. She was surprised to hear Archimedes yelling “dead bats”, shocked to see the massive cannons projecting out of the fire pit, and stunned when she comprehended what it all meant.
“Sweet holy Isis, he didn’t really make…” Berenike breathed. She tried to squirm out of the strong grip of Pollux while screaming back at Archimedes, “You lunatic! Are you crazy? You have those aimed right at me!”
Her uproar caught the attention of Alexander, who took a step forward and looked from his captive to the shore. What he saw was a desperate schoolboy calling out to his lost love. Alexander shook his head and said to his helmsman, “The young fool is smart enough and brave enough. If he’s lucky enough, maybe he’ll find her body washed up on shore in a few days.”
What Alexander misinterpreted as a love-sick cry, Berenike clearly understood as a dire warning. It was Archimedes’ intent to warn Berenike in a code she knew but the crew wouldn’t, hoping she would be sensible enough to jump overboard once she heard ‘dead bats’ and saw the cannons.
He didn’t count on Pollux having a tight hold of her. But Pollux’s slow wit and quick temper got the best of him. What he heard Archimedes yelling was dead rats; was he afraid of dead rats?
“That’s the last time you mock me, goat.” He threw Berenike down and picked up a spear tucked under the gunwale to hurl at the insolent schoolboy.
Berenike didn’t hesitate. She scrambled off the deck and dove into the harbor. She thrashed wildly toward shore, her intense desire to get clear of the ship overcoming her limited ability to swim. Pollux paid no attention to his escaped prisoner. Let her drown, they were going to kill her anyway. Pollux balanced the spear in his right hand and judged the distance to shore. His sole aim was to impale the despised schoolboy with a well thrown spear.
He never got the chance.
A violent explosion sent a pearl whistling over Archimedes, blowing him face down in the water with a gust of scorching steam. The first shot slammed into the bow of the ship, blowing it off in a shower of splintered wood, rocking the ship sideways and exposing the keel. Pollux, who had been standing in the same spot, spun in a slow dance of death when a long, splintered fragment of the deck speared him in the stomach. He dropped into the harbor with the shattered bow.
Archimedes, dazed and eyes burning from the saltwater, pushed himself up and looked back at the tubes to assess the situation. A cloud of swirling steam obstructed his view, but he heard Kemes and Agrippas yelling to each other about how best to aim the next cannon.
Berenike instinctively ducked under the water when she heard the explosion and felt a shudder in the water. She came up gasping and choking, not believing what this crazy schoolboy was doing. She coughed and lifted her head to scream, “What are you trying to do, idiot, kill me?” She swallowed more stinging seawater, coughed it out, and bobbed her head up again. “I told you never to aim that at me!” She went under once more and figured out she better invest her energy in swimming toward the island rather than drown while screaming at Archimedes.
A second explosion of steam sent a pearl screaming across the harbor, snapping off an oar and ripping into the barnacle-crusted keel. It hit the lightweight pirate ship broadside at the waterline, rupturing the thin hull with a jagged hole nearly two feet wide.
Seawater gushed into the ship’s hold, tipping the foundering ship back toward port. Four sailors were knocked off the ship and three choose to jump into the harbor, believing Scylla, the six-headed sea monster who feasted on sailors, was ravaging their doomed vessel.
By now Archimedes had recovered enough to gauge the aim of the third tube. He wanted to get to Berenike, but he had to make sure Alexander couldn’t. He knelt in the water and squinted from the tube to the foundering ship. “It’s aiming too far in front of the ship!” He swept his arm back. “The ship is listing; it’s not moving. Lever the tube back two feet!” Agrippas and Kemes dug their poles into the earth and slid the tube back as instructed.
Archimedes turned toward Berenike and dove under the waves when the cannon roared, spitting out a shaft of steam.
On board, Alexander was clinging desperately to the box that he believed held the key to his future empire. He was too scared to give sensible orders and he was of no use to the panicked crew. Unfortunately, his father’s battle experience did not exude from the coffin.
The stone ball burst into the wooden box, sending splinters in all directions that imbedded into flesh. The pearl ricocheted off an object inside the box, exploding into wicked stone projectiles that added to the slaughter of the sailors. Alexander, by virtue of his expensive Roman armor, was saved from being impaled by a large shard of marble that thudded into his iron breastplate. Alexander, by virtue of his heavy Roman armor, sunk like a rock to the bottom of the deep harbor when he was knocked overboard by the same shard of marble.
The box that Archimedes worked so hard to raise and Alexander killed so many men to acquire, slid down the slanting deck, tumbled off the
ship and followed Alexander to the depths of Poseidon’s Sea.
After struggling to get halfway to shore, Berenike was fatigued and beginning to sink too. Archimedes was a natural swimmer, having spent countless hours swimming with his friends in the harbor near his home in Syracuse. Now he used that experience to pull himself through the waves with measured strokes toward Berenike.
When they met, Archimedes took the exhausted Berenike in his arms, kicking his feet and turning back toward shore. Agrippas and Kemes ran into the waves and helped Archimedes pull Berenike onto the sandy beach. Archimedes sat down with his knees pulled up to his pounding chest while Berenike laid face down, coughing and heaving raspy breaths.
Out in the harbor, the last of the pirate ship slipped below the waves, while on shore Archimedes dropped down beside Berenike and pushed her thick hair, tangled and matted, off her face. She was in rough shape, but she was alive. His whole plan was elaborate in design, difficult to implement, and risky—very risky—but his Muse was back and she never looked more beautiful.
“It’s all right now, Berenike, they’re gone. You’re safe, princess. Everything is OK,” he whispered to her. He rubbed his hand on her back and could feel her breathing becoming deep and even.
Berenike rolled to her side and faced him. A gleam returned to her sea-green eyes and she feebly raised her right arm to wrap him in an appreciative embrace, then brought her hand down and slapped him across the face.
“You nearly killed me. And don’t call me princess.”
_________________
Only one person survived the carnage Archimedes unleashed on the pirate ship. Berenike, disheveled and wet, sat up and stretched her feet into the water. The tranquil waves lapping up the shore and skimming along her legs betrayed the violence that occurred only minutes before. One side of her face was imbedded with sand and specks of shells. She inhaled deeply, held it momentarily, and slowly let it out through pursed lips.
“Let me see if I understand this correctly,” she said at the end of her breath. ”Fire a deadly weapon at the ship, blasting it to bits, hope I would understand your crazy yelling soon enough to jump off, even though I can’t swim, and I nearly drown until you drag me ashore like some half-dead jellyfish.” She added sarcastically, “Did I miss anything?”
There was a pause before Archimedes answered. “You have most of it right, except the jellyfish part. I kind of pictured you rising out of the sea foam like the beautiful Aphrodite.”
“You brute!” She swung a fist at him, but he expected it and caught it. She tugged her arm away. “Your ridiculous plan may have saved me and sunk the ship, but you sunk Alexander’s coffin with it. You’ll have to explain to father about that part.”
“Saving that box was never part of this plan.” Archimedes dug through the soft sand and dug up a pebble. He threw it into the waves and dug aimlessly for another. “All that mattered to me, the only thing I cared about, was you. I had no time and fewer options about how to get you off that ship. You may not like how I did it, but you’re here and they’re gone.” He emphasized the word gone with another toss of a pebble.
“Yes, they’re gone, along with the only thing keeping my father in power,” Berenike said. She stabbed her finger out toward the harbor. “Not even you can raise that coffin out of the water. Besides, the sea water is already destroying that mummified corpse.”
“That’s what death is Berenike. Bodies are supposed to decompose, whether in days or years. Isn’t that what the gods intended? We can still celebrate a person’s life long after their bodies are gone from earth. What they meant to us doesn’t leave us. You were nearly killed twice over ownership of a corpse, a corpse that no longer thinks, speaks, or loves. Let the gods worry about who’s dead.” He turned and looked at her. “I really only care about who’s living.”
Berenike took another deep breath. She sifted through the sand until she found his hand and took it in hers. Then she leaned her head on his shoulder. “I do thank you for saving me. But you have to admit, that was pretty dangerous.”
Archimedes brushed the sand off her cheek. “Someone once told me that danger, in the hands of an expert, is sculpted into adventure.”
Chapter 34
It was the end of spring and the start of summer, and summer meant the first day of the New Year in the Greek calendar. In Egypt, the summer season meant a return to blistering days and warm nights, abundant sun and no rain.
The first heat of the morning shimmered off the paved streets that were swarming with loaded carts, scampering children, and servants herding animals. With the sun in his eyes, Archimedes was jostled and bumped, but he noticed none of the activity during his long walk back to school.
Agrippas took Berenike back to the safety of the palace and into the arms of an anxious father. Archimedes’ active mind was scrutinizing every detail of his plans to save Berenike and the body of Alexander the Great. He couldn’t think of anything he would, or could, do differently. The crowds spread out after he crossed the bridge and the school was in sight, when Archimedes noticed a familiar, stoic figure glide toward him through the haze.
Traffic seemed to bend around Callimachus like a stream around a rock. He stopped and put his hands on his hips. When Archimedes approached with torn kilt and covered in burns, scratches and soot, Callimachus shook his head and smiled. “A gem cannot be polished without friction, nor a man perfected without trials. And here comes my diamond in the rough.” The serene attitude Callimachus displayed during these difficult times was the remedy a young boy needed after spending the last two days dueling with death.
Normally, Archimedes would be bursting to tell his teacher all about his intricate pulley system, raising the coffin of Alexander, and his new steam cannons, but he didn’t have the enthusiasm for any more machines. He only wanted to go back to school and sleep.
“You don’t know how good it is to see a friendly face, Callimachus. I’m sorry I’ve been gone without you knowing where I was. I hope I haven’t caused any problems for you.”
Callimachus stroked the unruly, dark hair of his student. “You’ve been through a difficult ordeal, Archimedes. When I heard that both you and Princess Berenike were kidnapped, I trusted you to do whatever you could. Now I received word that the princess is safe and I see you walking among the living, and that is all that we hoped for. Let’s get you back to school and clean you up. Pharaoh Ptolemy is expecting you within the hour to explain in detail all that happened.”
“I am also sorry,” Archimedes said before they walked any further, “about your brother Ajax. He came out of nowhere to rescue us and killed them all. He fought like Achilles himself during the battle of Troy and would have saved us both, had it not been for the cowardly attack by Ptahhotep. That is twice your brave brother saved me and I never thanked him.”
Callimachus knelt down and put his hands on Archimedes’ shoulders. “Don’t ever thank Ajax for anything. It only makes him more ornery than he already is.”
Talking about Ajax in the present rather than the past confused Archimedes, but he thought it best not to correct a grieving brother.
“You, like too many of his enemies, underestimate Ajax,” Callimachus said. “It would take more than a coward’s dart to kill him. Hades didn’t want him so he spit him back to the living.”
“He’s alive?” Archimedes wasn’t sure if he understood.
“Alive and irritable. The dart could not get through the knot of muscle on that bull neck of his. The poison only weakened him, shutting down his muscles. He was in great pain from the muscle spasms, but he never complained.” Callimachus stood and they began to walk back to school.
“As far as coming out of nowhere, that’s not exactly true,” Callimachus said. “I had him follow you because I feared you were getting too close to the truth about the murders and that someone may try to stop you, which we now know was the case. Now that Berenike is safe, Pharaoh Ptolemy has all the Medjay searching the city for Ptahhotep, since they no lo
nger have to guard the body of Alexander.” Callimachus frowned slightly and nodded his head back toward the harbor.
Archimedes was just opening his mouth to explain but Callimachus interrupted him. “Save your breath and explanation for Ptolemy, you’re expected within the hour.”
The assembly gathered in the Pharaoh’s chambers was small and select. The nature of the meeting called for as few people as possible. By losing the most important symbol of Alexandria and his reign, Ptolemy could not risk letting any information leak out before he had a viable solution in place.
In addition to Ptolemy, there was Berenike, Remus (or Romulus), Callimachus, and Archimedes. There was one guard who could be trusted to keep quiet and only one scribe to write down the proceedings instead of the normal two. Callimachus escorted Archimedes to the palace and offered him advice along the way.
“Resist the temptation to argue your good reasons,” Callimachus said. “You are not on trial, but close to it. The Pharaoh realizes you saved his only daughter’s life, but you have to understand the difficult position he is in. Only answer his questions, do not debate him.”
He looked over at Archimedes. “And for the love of the gods, do not mimic the bad manners Princess Berenike displays in court. Her father may indulge her; he won’t you.”
Whereas Callimachus casually drifted down the street like the breeze that skimmed them, Archimedes stumbled along in a sleep-deprived stupor, wondering if he would be able to keep his eyes open and his mouth closed.
After Callimachus and his student entered the chambers, they walked to the center of the room, the soft pad of their sandals echoing in the hushed room. Ptolemy was plainly dressed in only a kilt and a gold band around his black wig.
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