The Wizard from Earth (21 page)

"Here, boy, I want you to think carefully.  I am testing you, and you will be rewarded if you supply me with the answer to this question.  So here we go.  Suppose I have apples, and spread them in a row of six, and four such rows of six in all do I spread.  Upon each apple, I stack another apple, and then another more.  These apples I place in a box, and add three boxes filled likewise.  How many apples are there in all?"

The boy thought a moment and said, "It depends."

"Depends?  Depends on what?"

"On what the reward is.  My last reward was a beating, so this time I want to make sure what I'm getting before I get it."

The foreman snapped, "You'll be getting a beating if you don't answer!"

"Shut up!" Archimedes shouted.

Matt smiled at the sight of the foreman shrinking from the old man's glare. 

Matt replied, "I'll just tell you the answer.  It's two hundred and eighty-eight."

Archimedes slumped.  "I'm sorry, that is not correct."

"It is correct."

"It is not, I'm afraid."

"It is correct.  Did you remember to carry?"

"Of course I remembered to carry!"  Archimedes sensed his irritation with the foreman dissipating, possibly being replaced by sympathy.     

"So what is your answer?" the slave named Matt asked. 

"Two hundred and sixteen.  And it is correct."  Archimedes started to turn. 

"Oh, I know what you did.  When you said 'add three boxes' you forgot that you still had the first box." 

Archimedes had a sinking feeling as he recalled his exact wording.  He turned back.

The boy named Matt said,  "You had one box, then you added three.  That makes four boxes in all.  Seventy-two apples per box times four boxes is two hundred and eighty-eight."

Archimedes met the cool gaze and scratched on his pad. 

"Oh, you're right."  He shrugged.  "Well, then . . . you'll come with me."

He motioned, and the guards hastily removed the chains and cuffs on the young man's wrists and ankles.

"Where are we going?"

"To Rome for now.  You can go anywhere you wish after that.  You see, your reward is your freedom."

24.

A little more than an hour later, Matt was standing on the dock next to the sloop.  He was dressed in robe and sandals 'lent' by the warden.  He had taken a bath and there wasn't a speck of Palras or flake of his own blood left on his skin or hair. 

The mines and slaves of Palras were hidden by the hills next to the shore, and with blue skies and crashing surf, the day was almost pleasant. 

Just don't think about why there are so many gulls.

"Careful with that!  Careful with that!"

Archimedes was shouting at the guards and slaves, who were carrying a large chest that apparently was heavy.  They carried it aboard the boat, descended into the hold, and returned with it topside.  However, given their more erect posture and lack of grunting, Matt concluded that they had unloaded into the sloop's hold whatever had been inside the chest.

Archimedes sealed the cover of the hold and slapped his hands as if he had been the one doing all the labor.  

"All right, Matt!  I'll need you to come aboard.  Pull the plank after you."

Matt did so while Archimedes snapped the loosened lines off the mooring.  They used long poles to push the boat from the dock.  The raised sail caught breeze and the bow spun from the island in the north to the open sea in the south.  Archimedes took the tiller.

“Matt!  See the cabinet at the base of the mast.  Take the white flag with the green dots, then the blue flag with the red square – “

The flags were rolled into tiny cubby holes with their designs painted alongside.  As Archimedes rattled off the patterns, Matt pulled the flags. 

“Now hoist them all quickly, in that order, or we'll be intercepted and boarded!” 

With the signal flags properly coded and displayed, the patrol ships granted them leave.  Palras became a smudge sinking on the horizon behind. 

Archimedes, with tiller tucked under one arm, flipped open his note pad.  "Ah, here's a good one!  Matt, suppose I have a cone with the following properties, which are that it has a radius of four and a height of seven.  What then in the volume of the cone of which I speak?"

Matt paused as if in mental calculation, though Ivan had given him the answer before Archimedes had finished speaking.  "Uh . . . about . . . one hundred and seventeen."

"Ah, you're finally wrong!  It's only – wait, you're using twenty-two sevenths rather than three as the value of pi, aren't you?"

Actually, thought Matt, Ivan was probably using a value with at least ten decimal places.  At any rate, he suspected that the real problem was that Archimedes had made another simple error in arithmetic.  Matt had noticed the befuddled looks he'd been getting while Archimedes had quizzed him on the dock, and had decided to stop correcting the old man if he could avoid it.   

Archimedes put away his pad.  "All right, this one should be easy.  Tell me, Matt, does your home village have a name, and if so, what is it?"

"Seattle," Matt said. 

"Where is Seattle?"

"It's . . . in the northwest."

"Well, no wonder I haven't heard of it.  That's a part of Britan that Valarion's boots have yet to trample."

"Actually, it's – "

Matt wondered what he was doing.  Sounding crazy would be a sure way to have the boat turned back to Palras.  The people of the Fish Lake believed he had come from the stars because they had seen him fall from the sky and cure their plague.  He had no evidence of his other-worldliness to offer Archimedes.

Instead, he decided to change the subject,  “Are we the only people on this boat?”

Archimedes threw up his hands.  “Why does everyone think that an old man has nothing better to do than – “

Matt didn't know exactly where Archimedes was going with that, but he interrupted, “I was thinking it wasn't very safe for you to sail to Palras on your own, or to go back with a former prisoner you don't know anything about.”

“I know you can solve the Riddle of Apples.  That means you're smart enough to know that commandeering a boat on unknown seas won't get you far.”

“If you wish to commandeer the boat at this time,” Ivan said, “I can assist you in navigating anywhere on the planet that you wish.”

“We're going to play along,” Matt subvocaled.  “I want to know what this guy is about.”

Left unsaid was that he really hadn't seen much in Britan to interest him.  Rome might offer more.  

“Matt, come over here.  I want you to take the tiller while I tend to . . . business.  Keep the angle between sun and bow the same.  Uh, you do know what an angle is?”

Matt nodded.  Archimedes bowed, turned over the tiller, and descended into the hold.  As minutes passed into half an hour, Matt frowned.

“He's been gone a while.  I wonder what he's up to.”

“'Tend to business' might be a euphemism for using the toilet.”

“I know that.  But isn't a toilet aboard a boat referred to as a 'head?'”

“Yes.”

“And isn't that because it's at the bow of the boat?”

“Yes.”

“Well, he's in the middle of the boat.”

“Perhaps he has designed an elaborate plumbing system.”

“Ivan, don't you have a way to see through walls?”

“I can capture imaging by emitting terahertz radiation bursts.  However, even one imaging will deplete my energy reserves and require an hour to recharge.  Also, it will cause damage to your cellular structure that will require up to two hours to repair.”

“We've got the time.  Go for it.” 

“Understood.  I will begin reconfiguration of my physical structure for the procedure.”

While waiting for Ivan, Matt said, "I would feel guilty about violating his privacy, except that he's part of a tyranny that has no respect for human rights whatsoever.  They're not going to play by our rules, so let's play by theirs."

“Understood.”

“Uh, just the same, look at the picture first, and if he is using the toilet – don't show me.”

“Understood.  Please orient your face in the desired direction. Thank you.”

“
Ow!
”  Matt clutched his forehead.  “That smarts!”

In the colorless low-res image, Archimedes was holding a hand shovel and hunched over a box.  The box had circular orifices at both ends and a small hatch on top.  Archimedes was portrayed in mid-scoop, lifting a heap of granular matter out of the hatch opening while holding open a bag that he was looking at, apparently intending to pour the material on the shovel into the bag.  There were several other boxes and bags nearby.

Ivan said.  “My analysis is unable to determine the purpose of his activity.”

“I know what he's doing.  I've seen those boxes before, they're filters on the mining pump intakes.  He's taking out the silver dust that was trapped in the filters.”

“Would his motivation have to do with monetary acquisition?”

“Precisely.”

Matt thought about what he could do with the knowledge.  Technically, Archimedes was stealing silver that belonged to the Emperor, but as the Emperor was stealing from everyone else, Matt saw no ethical reason to snitch on Archimedes, nor did there seem to be a personal advantage in doing so.  Perhaps he could blackmail Archimedes by threatening to turn him in, but that might backfire.  Besides, so far he kind of liked the guy.  

In conclusion
, Matt thought,
all I got for being nosy was a headache
.  Then again, if Archimedes was swapping and cleaning filters with each visit, he likely had considerable financial resources.  Matt could see how, in the future, that might prove useful to know.   

Matt continued steering toward Rome.  Hours later, Archimedes pushed open the hold cover and emerged on deck.  He glanced at the sun, then at Matt, and scowled.

"Where are you going?  I told you to keep the sun at – is that Rome?"  Archimedes squinted ahead, then frowned at Matt.  "You are a very good navigator, or very lucky.  Either way, good work, Star Child."

Matt had seen Rome in satellite view countless times, but it was far more imposing when seen from the sea:  towers and arches and slabs of marbles glistening in sunlight, structures climbing the slopes of a volcano whose high peak emitted puffs of steam.

"No, the volcano will not erupt," Archimedes answered the unasked question.  "Well, I suppose it might erupt someday, but it hasn't so far in all the history of Rome.  Is your home of Seattle near any volcanoes?"

"A few," Matt said.  "Mount Rainier, Baker, Saint Helens."

"Odd names."  Archimedes stretched from the confinement of the hold, and pointed to various structures on the cityscape.  "That's the Coliseum.  Over there we have the main trunk of the aqueduct system.  The pillar of rising steam is from the baths.  The signal tower and the light house are there, high on the slope, and that unforgivable eyesore beneath them is my greatest architectural crime, the imperial palace."  Archimedes gave Matt a once-over and said, "There are members of the patrician class who are convinced that barbarians oft go mad at first sight of the magnificence of our imperial city, but you seem to be taking it in stride.  How does it compare with Seattle?"

"Well, I guess the main thing is, Seattle isn't as big."

"Actually," Ivan said, "Seattle has over twice the population that I extrapolate for this planet's Rome.  The tallest building I survey here is only one-tenth the height of – "

"Quiet," Matt subvocaled.

Archimedes took the tiller and the boat entered into the bay, wending adroitly around barges, cargo ships, and galleys into a slip within a boat house.  Matt jumped to the dock and tied the lines, while Archimedes lowered and secured the sail.  Archimedes put down the plank, walked onto the dock, and pulled a lever.  The boat house doors swung shut.

The boat's mast protruded through a slit in the roof, and through the slit poured the only light in the boat house.  In the dim illumination, Archimedes handed Matt a bag.

"That should be enough to get you back to Seattle, if that's where you wish to go."

Matt opened the bag.  It brimmed with silver coins, though not enough to afford the construction of a proton cannon array.

"Thank you," Matt said.  "I – I'm not sure why you're helping me like this."

Archimedes seemed not to have heard.  He continued,  "Otherwise, if you wish, you may follow me, as I have an opportunity for employment as my assistant that you may find both interesting and enriching." 

One look had already convinced Matt that Rome might be more fun than Londa and Fish Lake combined.  Whether he'd be able to survive in a city of warlords was another question.  But at the moment, curiosity was winning over fear.

"I think I'd like to try that." 

Archimedes grinned and nodded and turned, striding into the city.  Matt followed.  A few steps later, he stopped, a look of horror on his face.  As if on cue, Archimedes turned and smiled.

"Ah, the wind is just right this eve and you have experienced my greatest pride.  Behold, the sewers of Rome!"

He gestured sweepingly to a place across the bay, where clusters of pipes were dumping raw sewage, creating a slick that extended across the northern reach of the bay shore.

"Before the construction of sewers, Matt, filth ran open in the streets of Rome.  Every summer brought a plague.  Sewers, more than armies, made it possible for Rome to grow into an imperial city."

“About this assistant job.  Does it – “

“Already have a crew working the sewers.  But if you feel yourself above the maintenance of  sewers, then perhaps you should head for Seattle." 

“I'll be okay.”  He subvocaled,  "Ivan, numb my nose.  Turn down background noise fifty, no sixty percent.  And can you blank out my view of – no, just suppress my gag reflex, okay?"

Archimedes fixed his mantle and straightened his back and waved his staff and started for a narrow street.  The tenements on both sides were several stories tall.  The bottom floors were sturdy and well-maintained.  The upper floors looked like tenuous afterthoughts. 

"Be on the lookout for falling bricks," Archimedes said nonchalantly.  "Falling anything, actually."

“You heard him,” Matt subvocaled. 

They maneuvered through the robed crowds and entered a better section of town with wide tiled squares pocked with fountains and statues.  Dodging gilded litters, Archimedes entered a windowless side street.  He pounded his staff on a thick door.  A man as old as Archimedes, but better and more neatly dressed, opened the door and scowled.

"It's about time you showed," the older man said.  He eyed Matt.  "I see you've picked up another stray."

Archimedes replied, "Matt, this is Jaros.  He is chief of my household servants.  Jaros, this is Matt.  He is as you say, another stray, but a most promising one as I think I might make an assistant out of him.”

"Well, get out of the way so I can close the door, or do you want to let in the Thieves Guild as well?"

Archimedes presented the key to the hold on the sloop and Jaros wordlessly pocketed it.  Matt knew he was watching a well-oiled operation and reflected that if there was indeed a Thieves Guild, it likely had nothing on this pair.