Andreas knew better than to ask more questions.
* * *
New York City, 2020
On the way from Kenji’s garden, Nat’s phone buzzed. He stopped walking to check it.
Go back. Find the other circuit board.
His heart started thudding. Kenji had said the data in his phone needed to be overwritten. How? By replacing its circuit board with another? Where would the other, more powerful circuitry be? Somewhere nearby, housed in familiar casing. Think.
Then it came to him, the obvious place. He knew now where the other circuit board was embedded, sending and receiving data. He himself had been its protector.
The rock contained the circuitry. With a cold anger, he realised the destruction of Zelos had always been, and still was, the Committee’s main purpose. Rewriting the codes had been a secondary consideration. He needed to retrieve the rock and its circuitry before Kenji could activate it to destroy Zelos, and with it any chance Nat had to save Seb.
There was still time. He would go back.
Pacing himself, he focused on the route. When he reached the gate to the garden he waited a moment, catching his breath, then quietly pushed it open.
Kenji was standing at the end of the yard with the rock in his hand. He failed to see Nat coming up behind him. Nat guessed he had seconds before Kenji sent the signal to destroy Zelos.
Now. “No!” he yelled.
Kenji turned, startled. The rock slipped from his grasp.
Nat darted forward, caught the rock and held it high before smashing it down with all his force on the concrete yard. Shards of synthetic material flashed through the air and cut his skin. He scanned the ground, searching, until he saw what he was looking for. The core of the rock with its small safety capsule had opened with the force of impact, and inside it was the circuit board with the data to overwrite their codes.
Nat prised it free, pushed Kenji aside and ran for the gate.
Once on the street he walked quickly, looking for a safe place to work on the phone. After a while he stopped to get his bearings and realised he was close to the site where, in an earlier timespace, he had worked for a day stacking cartloads of building materials. On an impulse he headed straight for it.
On the site was a modern high-rise hotel. He went through the lobby into a large atrium, found a quiet table and ordered a coffee. He took out his phone and the micro toolkit he kept in his pack. With extreme care he removed the phone’s casing and replaced its circuit board with the one from the rock. When he’d finished his hands were trembling. He restored the casing and sat back, aware he was sweating. Stay calm.
He looked around. He’d been so absorbed in his work that he hadn’t noticed the security guard nearby, watching him. The guard approached the table.
“Can I look at your phone, sir?”
Nat handed it over. “Sorry. Just checking the circuitry. I like to know how things work.”
The guard tapped the screen and opened some image files. “Where’s this place?” He held the screen towards Nat.
“Tasmania.”
“Looks a good place to be. So what are you doing in New York?”
“I plan to study at Harvard, if I get in.”
The guard opened a few more files, then handed the phone back to Nat. “Here’s some free advice: don’t take your phone apart in a public place.” He indicated with his hand. “Passport.”
Nat handed his passport over. The guard looked at it briefly. His expression remained unchanged but his eyes flicked back to Nat and held, as if seeing him for the first time. “Nathaniel D’Angelo,” he read out, “Okay, sir. Looks like you got special clearance here. Enjoy your stay.” To Nat’s surprise the guard handed him his passport and turned and walked away.
Most of the tables around him were unoccupied. Stay calm. Nat waited until the guard had left, then ordered another coffee. He sat a while, readying himself. Finally he picked up the phone and activated it. The screen lit up and a 3D video opened. The image emerged from the screen and shimmered in front of him, a hologram. The speaker was Yoshiki.
You have completed the journey, as I believed you would. You can now overwrite your codes, or any other. Both you and Sebastian are free to live where you wish undetected. No one can track you. This is the protection you offer your brother—the freedom of choice. Only one other has reached this point. Like Kenji, you have a choice to make. Immortality can be yours if you want it. You have one day to decide.
The image vanished and the screen went black.
Nat checked the setup, signal and folders. He tested the camera by shooting a video of the hotel lobby. The playback appeared around him as a hologram of the lobby minutes before. He wondered how information was recorded—many of the file formats were unfamiliar and the content unintelligible, written in a scripting language he didn’t recognise.
The main folder was named Nathaniel and inside it was a file named Instructions. He opened it and was relieved to find he could read it. The next hour was spent carrying out the instructions and by the time he’d finished, it was dark outside. He sat staring at the phone. There was no great revelation, no indication he’d succeeded, but the air around him was sharp with promise. He knew he’d made it, he knew he’d overwritten Seb’s code. And his own.
He ordered a sandwich and ate it thinking of his next move. He took out the piece of paper, the message he’d earlier sent to Seb in Athens. Nike had delivered it for him.
Seb—I know how to overwrite your code. You can come home.
Nike had returned it with Seb’s answer on the back:
Nat– I knew you’d succeed, I’ve always known it. I’m your brother. You need to know I’m remaining here in Athens. I can’t explain all the reasons but you’ll understand. I’ll see you around sometime. Look me up –Seb
Nat stared awhile at the note, folded it and returned it to his pocket.
He frowned. Look me up. Online? He did a search on Seb’s name and checked out every link. He drilled down through several ancient history websites but their databases contained no record of anyone with that name.
He was getting frustrated. Why did Seb have to be so cryptic?
He went over in his mind any detail that might have escaped him. Finally he took from his pocket the coin Leontios had given him and studied it closely. Declan had said it was the best tetradrachm he’d seen, with its carved owl, the symbol of Athens, on the reverse. Nat turned the coin over and stared for some seconds at the other side. Instead of the profile of Athena usually shown on the obverse, the coin showed the profile of a statesman or military leader. There were letters carved in a circle around the image. A name.
Nat transcribed the letters, knowing what he’d find:
SEBASTIAN
Although the profile was small and indistinct, Nat now saw in it the unmistakable likeness of an older Seb. He wondered how he’d missed it before, and understood why Leontios had given him the coin. He realised that the old man had recognised Seb before his time.
He started a fresh search, concentrating on coin museums and using the keyword tetradrachm. He kept refining the search, scrolling through pages of thumbnails until he found the only matching image, a coin included in the Ancient Art collection at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. There was a brief description of the coin and a link to more information. He hesitated before the next step, knowing it was his brother’s history he was about to read. He wanted to understand and accept Seb’s choice.
He opened the link and read the text below the image:
This silver tetradrachm is believed to be the only extant coin featuring the image of the Athenian orator and statesman known as Sebastian. Only a few of these coins were produced under instructions from the great military leader Alexios in honour of his close friend.
Sebastian was foreign-born and arrived in Athens as a slave in the fifth century BC. Ineligible for citizenship, he nevertheless rose to a position of power and influence among leaders and intellec
tuals of the day, and was said to have been indirectly responsible for many important reforms of the Athenian justice system.
Very little is known of Sebastian. Although a slave, he was granted the freedom to travel and spent much of his time away from Athens. He was known to have shared his life with a slave girl from the east renowned for her beauty and intelligence, who was said to have had a great influence on his writings and who herself was influential in Athenian society. Despite his significant legacy Sebastian’s name is rarely found in records of the time. We know of him only through the writings of Demokritos of Abdera and Alexios. Historians can only speculate as to what became of him.
Nat stared at the screen for several minutes. He sat back until his heart stopped thudding and his thoughts were forming clearly again. It was Seb’s safety that had always been his aim, and he had achieved it. As for the rest, Seb had been right—only Nat could fully understand his choice.
He opened another website, a news media archive, and stared at an image on it for a long time. It was a photo taken by a local reporter from the St Annes Herald after the Science Quiz years before. Norika was holding the First Place medallion and Nat was standing beside her in second place, with his arm casually around her shoulder. They were both laughing. Nat could remember every moment of that day, every look, every gesture. In the background were his parents, looking on and smiling. Next to them was the empty chair meant for Seb.
Nat went back to the text on Seb’s history. Seb was said to have travelled, to have spent—will spend time away from Athens. Nat was satisfied with this. He knew he and Seb would meet again. Having reached his goal, he had almost forgotten Argos’s words—that it was the journey that counted.
Everything had been worth it.
He sat considering his current situation. He wanted to go home for a while, take time off, plan his future. Then he would return here to New York to begin his studies.
It was late and he was tired. He left the atrium and walked through to the hotel lobby. He noticed the warmth of the side lamps, the movement of people, the aroma of coffee, and was suddenly, inexplicably happy. He decided to book a room that night and get an early start next morning. There was someone he needed to meet before he went home, and a decision to make by the afternoon.
He took out Declan’s card and read it again.
Declan O’Mara
Associate Professor of Astrophysics
Department of Astronomy, Harvard University
Declan had written his cellphone number on the back of the card. Nat sent him a text message, then went to the reception desk where he booked his room. His thoughts were on the years he planned to spend in America.
Because, like Seb, he was now free to choose.
* * *
Athens, 423 BC
The day of the Dionysia festival was sunny and thousands were heading towards the Theatre of Dionysos, where Aristophanes was to present his latest play. Andreas had closed the shop and was attending the performance with his family.
Among the audience were Sebastian and Norika, recently arrived foreigners under the patronage of Zenon. Their status was that of slaves. Even with the most benevolent of patrons, their position in society was compromised.
They didn’t care. The days were warm and drowsy and peaceful. A one-year armistice had been called in the war with the Spartan alliance and Athenians were enjoying the diversions of festivals and celebrations.
Seb was happier than he could remember. Norika was with him, and Zenon’s friendship and his own reputation as an orator had secured him the best tutors in the city and a simple dwelling in the shadow of the Akropolis. Argos was always by his side at public meetings and became his secret and most trusted adviser.
Norika took longer to adjust. Athenian women, even those of high birth, were denied rights and forbidden any involvement in public affairs, a law Norika determined to prove unfair by her discreet presence at public functions. Her quiet dignity spoke for her, and her informed opinions, expressed at private gatherings, came to be respected and sought beyond her circle. After a time her influence on Athenian life was openly acknowledged on the streets and in the assembly, and she was surprised at how content she felt.
Seb was aware of the debt he owed Nat. He was living free of his code, free from constraint, free from danger. His reward was knowing the legacy of his reforms. In influencing the laws that made the polis the greatest city-state the world had known, Seb had found his role, and his destination. When he and Norika walked on moonlit nights along the road to the Akropolis he would gaze up at the bright constellations and thank the kindness of stars.
Later that same year the names of Sebastian and Norika were recorded and secretly archived. Civic officials were warned against supplying any further information regarding their status or their life together in Athens.
And so it continued with the birth of their son.
Epilogue
It was always about choice. Seb chose his way, I chose mine.
How would any of us decide which choice is the right one? The theories tell us one way, but our instincts tell us another.
Fight or flight—that second when you’re forced to make a decision that will determine not only your survival but its nature. The second when your nerve cells fire and your stomach heaves. Fear. It’s not your mind telling you what to do, it’s your gut.
That’s how it was for me the day I met up with Declan at Harvard, where his research involved tracking the destruction of the planet Zelos as recorded by the new NASA space observatory, the first to be constructed using the hybrid science.
It was the day I realised the significance of the scientific report my father mentioned back in St Annes—the discovery that nitrate concentrations found in Antarctica were related to a supernova beyond our galaxy. One of the nitrate spikes indicated the long-ago explosion of a star in the region called NGC-1097, a galaxy later found to contain Zelos. Within seconds of the supernova the galaxy entered the millennia-long period of its collapse. My father was in Antarctica when the ice core was taken and measured. He knew it was near, the end of the planet of his sons’ forebears.
Zelos is now gone, earlier than predicted. Declan and I viewed X-ray images of its final days. Such beautiful destruction. Multi-coloured clouds of gas and matter, supernova remnants, tendrils spreading, leaking, into the blackness of space and towards Zelos. We viewed them in silence and thought of those who remained.
It was the day I got the last text message:
Find the sea eagle.
I still don’t know who sent it, but I have a theory. Who other than myself knew about the sea eagle? Who knew where I would be at those earlier times, what I needed to know? The hybrid science allows it—one-way radiowave transmission from the future. Was it a later me who sent the texts? I may never know the truth, because the future is constantly shifting.
It was the day I told Kenji of my decision. As I stood outside the gate to his garden, prepared to confront him, I thought about the reasons I’d chosen my path, too many and varied to make sense to anyone but myself.
After our meeting I returned to St Annes and final exams. With Declan’s endorsement and a surprisingly favourable report from Mrs Goodwin, I was accepted at Harvard. I’m here on the banks of the river, watching the rowboats and thinking of the fishing boats back home. When I gain my degree I’ll remember how Norika beat me in the Science Quiz, and I’ll smile, grateful for that day and the meeting that changed my life.
I’m not so angry these days. I sometimes wonder if power can bring contentment. In our hybrid world, is peace for our people too great an aim? I like to think I’ll achieve it, no matter how long it takes, but in the meantime I’ll settle for an uncertain balance.
On the island I went for long runs along the coastline and did a lot of thinking. Not far from the Delaneys’ cottage, near the sea eagle’s nest, I stood on a cliff and flung the circuit board imprinted with our codes into the ocean.
I’ve been thinking about Zev. Declan told me he made it to Princeton to study astronomy. We shared the same dream of stars, Zev and I, and I look forward to our discussions when we next meet.
Because I’ll go back. And back again. Always moving on from somewhere, like Kenji.
The decision to choose immortality was mine alone. I think Seb understands—he always did. There’s a way out but I don’t expect to use it. There’s so much to understand, to learn, and I’ll never know it all.
For now, it’s what I want. As leader of the Committee I can get a lot done.
I can imagine Norika laughing at that.
Sometimes I surprise myself.
Always.
About the author
Catherine McCallum lives on the east coast of Tasmania near the fishing village of St Helens, the inspiration for the town of St Annes in this book. After a career in Australia and Europe as a graphic designer and art director, she now works as a writer from her home overlooking the Tasman Sea. Akropolis is her first novel.
www.catherinemccallum.com
Table of Contents
Prologue
Part 1: Lost at Sea
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Part 2: The Long Walls
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Akropolis Page 26