The Wizard from Earth (43 page)

The guard stopped twitching.  For a moment, the Emperor's face flashed anger, but then he sipped his tea and smiled whimsically.  Another gesture, and the corpse was carried out. 

"I bring a message," Inoldia said as if nothing had happened.  "The Council is turning the girl over to you.  You are to be informed that she is a great threat to us all.”

“And what do you want me to do with her?”

“Whatever you wish.”

“Ah, I see.  Once again, I am to do your dirty work.”

“She is a great threat to us all.”  Inoldia casually picked up the prognosticator cube, tilted it end over end, and crushed it, letting the dust scatter upon the lawn.  Valarion smiled and sipped while Inoldia swaggered out of the courtyard, giving Matt a sneer.

Once she was gone, Valarion scowled and the cup rattled against its saucer as he trembled.

“You see what I'm up against.  Seven steps ahead in strategy the Sisters are, and yet they have as their emissary that – that – drunken bear!”

Matt watched the Emperor brush cookie crumbs from the sleeves of the purple robe.

“I told you what you wanted to know,” Matt said. “So . . . uh . . . you're letting us go?”

“Of course not.  To be honest, I wasn't going to before, but she made it clear now they want the girl dead as soon as possible.  Hmm, perhaps I can include both your executions during the installation ceremony.”  Valarion picked up a notebook and pen, and began to make a diagram of blocks and arrows that reminded Matt of the ones drawn by Archimedes.  Apparently, Matt realized, Valarion hadn't rejected everything that Archimedes had taught him. 
Just the sense of ethics.
   

Then he glanced at Matt.  “Well . . . I suppose I could let you 'escape.'  There was nothing in their order just now about you.  And I've found you to be either informative or mad, neither of which is cause to kill you.  So yes, you can leave Rome if you wish.”

Matt considered taking the offer.  He had no intention of leaving Rome without Carrot, but perhaps he could best help her by being on the outside of prison –

Valarion burst out laughing.  He pointed at Matt's face and rocked back and forth. 

“Your expression is priceless!”

A gesture summoned guards.  Without looking from his work, Valarion said, “Return him to Bloodbrick.  See that he is brought to the Coliseum for execution at . . . oh, say three-ish.”

Tugged by the guards, Matt stood and asked, “Do I get a last meal?”

Valarion ignored him.  Matt saw the cookie plate he'd set on the ground and clawed for it, but his grasp was too short.

Matt was escorted to the rickshaw, then carried back to Bloodbrick.  Surrounded by soldiers and heavily chained, he saw no opportunity that even hypermode could use for escape.  They threw him in the cell and chained him to the wall and slammed and locked the door.

“Don't I get a last meal?” he shouted at the receding footsteps.  When the sound had died away, he yanked on the cuffs over his wrists and said, “Ivan, I remember that the first time I was put in chains, I asked you to develop the capability to print in metal.  How's that coming along?”

“I have made progress, but it is still insufficient to print a key.”

After a few more minutes in darkness, Matt said, “Ivan, I have an idea.  The way you cut the bone in my skull, you could do the same to the bones in my wrist, right?”

“Yes,” Ivan said.  “Are you suggesting that I sever your wrist bones so that you can slip your wrists through the chain cuffs, and then fuse the bones together again once your wrists are out?”

“You seem to know something about this.”

“There are instructions in my archives for such a trick that was used by magicians to escape from handcuffs.  It was very popular in magic acts on Earth during the early twenty-second century.”

“Well, I don't think anyone's done it here on this planet yet.  Okay, once we do that, for my next trick, I'll strip naked and stand by the wall over there and you'll camouflage my skin to match the stone pattern.  Can you do that?”

“My pigmentation modification software archives do contain chameleon emulation algorithms.”

“Great, given how dim it is in here, it should fool them when they come in and so they'll think I escaped.  Then, assuming they leave the door open, we'll escape for real and – “

“Matt, may I make some observations that may have relevance for devising a means of escape?”

“Sure.”

“I have reviewed the architectural plans of Archimedes for Bloodbrick Prison and this particular cell.  There is a key for the chains hidden behind a loose brick above your right hand.  The bricks on your left form a hinged panel that opens into a tunnel that exits to an alley outside the prison.”

Matt quietly acquired the key, released himself from the chains, and opened the panel. 

The tunnel was large enough to crawl on hands and knees, then entered into a larger passage that connected with other tunnels.  Matt stood and climbed steps up to street level.  The steps ended at a wall.  With a gentle shove, the wall hinged outward and Matt stepped into the alley. 

Before him, a man in the uniform of a Roman soldier pointed a sword at his chest.  Matt met the man's eyes and smiled.

“Hello, Geth.”

45.

Archimedes knew a bistro that was not far from the reputedly inescapable Bloodbrick Prison, and they took refuge in one of its dark corners.  He and Geth watched in equal fascination as Matt wolfed porridge and gulped cider as if the boy hadn't eaten in days.  The former Chief Scientist of Rome, reduced to fugitive, then glanced at the handful of other patrons, who were ignoring them.  He had never been more content with the lack of public recognition that came with his job.

“And Valarion is claiming that Seattle and Britan are going to attack Rome,” Matt said between gulps.  “That's why he's got the city under martial law.”

“And you don't know where Arcadia is now?” Geth asked.

“Inoldia said the Sisters are returning her,” Matt said.  “I think that means they took her to their island.  But now they want her executed and Valarion was planning to do it at something called an 'Installation Ceremony.'”

“What is that?” Geth asked. 

“The public so-called 'celebration' of the ascension of a new emperor,” Archimedes replied. 

“Where is going to be held?” Geth demanded.  “When?”

Finishing the meal, Matt put down the spoon.  “In the Coliseum after three this afternoon.  Uh, Carrot – she's your daughter, isn't she?”

Geth hesitated.  “How long have you known?”

“Well, for a long time.  And I think she has to know too, although she never mentions it.  Is something going on between you two?”

“Nothing of enmity, if that is what you mean.”

“Well, what is going on?”

“Do we really have time?  We need to rescue her.”

“And before we do, I'd like to know the nature of your relationship so that I know how far you're willing to go to save her.”

“Yesterday I jumped from a ship heading for home and swam back here because I thought she might still need me.  And yet you question my dedication to her?”

“Well, if you won't admit to her that she's your daughter, yes.”

Geth sighed and his bearing as a proud soldier of Rome might have curled into a ball save for the intervention of the table.  He stared into his beer as he spoke.   

“King Letos was a good drinking companion, an adequate ruler, and a failure as a husband.  He had countless affairs while Prisca, Arcadia's mother, stayed home and bore the brunt of his abuse when he stumbled in drunk each night.  As his chief knight, I tried to be loyal to Letos, but one night in his drunken rage he had slashed Prisca across the face.  As you know, Wizard, Arcadia has remarkable powers of healing, and her mother even more so.  Letos knew of this power, and took advantage of the fact to inflict outrages that might have killed or permanently scarred any other woman and thus scandalized him before the village.  Yet though his attacks left no external scar on Prisca, they made internal ones.  That night of the worst attack she came to me, or I to her – does it matter?  She had been married years to Letos, and had not conceived a child, but within a few weeks of our . . . relationship . . . she was with Arcadia.  Letos of course suspected, and I could see from the child's resemblance that she was mine.  Also Prisca told me, and I knew that she would know for certain.”

Matt said softly, “Please understand, I wasn't judging you for the affair.  I just want to know, why haven't you told Carrot?”

“With good reason, at first.  Letos by law could have put us all to death.  It's an old law and I don't think even he would have used it, but the stigma of a child born out of wedlock would have been a humiliation to his kingship at a time when the Romans were sniffing at our door and unity was needed to fend them off.  And illegitimacy would have been a stigma to Prisca and Arcadia too.  And then there was the matter of inheritance and the title of princess that would be Arcadia's someday if I simply kept quiet.”

“But her village has been destroyed for over two years.  She has nothing to inherit now.”

“Perhaps it seems that way.  But consider her future.  Consider for example, my stepson Croin is a fine young man and also happens to have been born out of wedlock, but it doesn't really matter since he's destined to make an excellent farmer.  But Arcadia – she may yet someday wear a crown.  It won't do for people to know that she is illegitimate, and it is far better if she carries the title of a princess than not.”

“That explains why you didn't reveal the truth in public.  But why didn't you tell Carrot?”

“Inertia, I suppose.  Also, in our society, it is the child who bears the guilt of illegitimacy, though she had no part in the act.  It is not right, I will not let her bear such a burden – “ 

Archimedes clamped a hand on Geth's shoulder and said, “Young fellow, I've heard enough.  Now, Carrot is indeed a fine young lady, but what she needs now is a father – more than a knight champion or whatever you conceive your role to be.”

“If not in words,” Geth replied, “I have been a father at least in action, especially these two last years.  In the battles we have faced together, there isn't an arrow or a blade that I wouldn't sooner have at my neck than hers.  My only failing has been not to tell her the truth.”

“I really think she already knows,” Matt said.

Geth frowned.  “And why do you think that?”

“Well, uh . . . how do I say this . . . she can tell by your scent.”

“How do you know?”

“Well, uh . . . I kind of . . . have the same ability.”

“Oh . . . . “

Archimedes switched between the two faces, his own a cloud of puzzlement.  “What are you two talking about?”

“You are not aware that Arcadia is . . . . special?” Geth asked.  “You do not know of her . . . abilities?”

“Of course I do.  I know that she's a good aim with a catapult and a promising cook and ever since she's been laundering my robes they have never been brighter.”

“What of her physical attributes?”

“Well, she has a becoming figure, but I'm really past the age of doing much with that.”

“And . . . you perceive nothing special with regard to her mind?”

“Hmm.  She is able to read, which I'll admit is special for a farm girl from the hinterlands.  I often find her in the library, but then it's a different book each time, so I have to question her span of attention.  I also find her a bit incurious these days, because whenever I attempt to explain something in detail about one of the books, she'll say 'I know.'  And then, Matt, you heard her yesterday in the coach, going on about the interaction of light rays through the atmosphere as if she knew what she was talking about.  Obviously, she prattled so because she feels intellectually intimidated in our company.” 

Geth and Matt looked at each other, and Archimedes marveled at the power of young women to utterly distract fathers and suitors alike.  

Then he remembered their circumstances and said quietly, “I must ask your forgiveness for an old man who spends too much time in his workshops.  Clearly you both deeply care for her, and even I am aware that there are personal qualities of character that count for more than intellectual accomplishment.  I know you wish to rescue her, and I will do what I can to assist.”

Geth gave a confirming nod and said, “Now, what is this Coliseum you say she will be taken to?”

“It's a – it's a – “ Matt said, then shrugged and looked haplessly at Archimedes.  “I don't think they have anything like it in Britan, so how do I explain?”

Archimedes pondered for a moment, then said, “Surely, Geth, you have athletic games in Britan?”

“Yes, of course.  You mean, wrestling and foot races and the like.”

“Imagine they built a building large enough to encompass the playing field, around which people could sit and watch.  A building that would be larger than an entire village, that would allow thousands of people to watch a game at the same time.”

“There is such a grand structure in Rome?”

“Yes, and within they have competitions to rival the scale of the building, competitions such as chariot races, gladiator fights, naval battles – “

“Naval battles?  As in real ships in water?”

“Yes, there are reservoirs that fill the entire – you know, that reminds me, there's a connection from the Coliseum reservoirs to the sewers.  If memory serves me, the maintenance entry is on Draster Street.”

“Drasker,” Matt said.

“And how would you know?  Oh never mind, just now you had that sideways look that you always have when you turn out to always be right.  Anyhow, that underground passage will get us in and out of the Coliseum.  The additional problem that I perceive is that Carrot will likely be placed before the Emperor's balcony, which is in the middle of the interior oval, while the reservoir release station is at one end.  How do we reach her across the open field?  I don't see a way for that to work.”

“I do,” Matt said.  “Valarion was planning to have us both executed at the same time.  I'll go back to the prison cell and the guards will take me right to where Carrot is going to be.  Then I can bring her out.”

“That's insanity, Matt!  And suppose she's in the middle of the arena then, how do you get her across the open field?”

“We won't go across the open field.  We'll run toward the nearest exit out of the field, then travel through the lower level until we reach the reservoir release station.”

“The lower level of the Coliseum is like a maze.  How do you propose to find your way?”

“That won't be a problem.  Well, not much of a problem.  Well, it shouldn't be much of a problem.”

“If you were expecting me to guide you, no.  I won't help you kill yourself, Matt.”

“I don't see where I need your help.  I mean, I'll go back to prison on my own, then I'll be taken to the Coliseum, then I'll get Carrot, and I know the way through the lower level to the reservoir release station on my own – “

“How would you know the way when you've never been – oh, never mind.  That sideways look again!”

“Anyhow,” Matt said soberly.  “I'll get Carrot and bring her to the release station.”

Geth clamped his hand on Matt's shoulder and said solemnly, “Young man, if you will do that, then you will have my permission to marry my daughter.”

“Well, uh, I uh – “

It didn't take the Greatest Mind of His Generation to sense Matt's confusion, and Archimedes quickly interjected, “I will try to talk you out of that, Matt – the return to prison, that is, not the marriage, that's your decision.  But for now, let me change the subject.  There is another problem, and this is one where you both may be of assistance to me.  Will you help?”

“If it can be done in time to rescue my daughter,” Geth replied.

“Well, I have some people I want to rescue too.  My servants are under house arrest, and as I am accused of assassinating the Emperor, Roman law will require them all to be put to death.  They are to me the equivalent of a family and I want to rescue them just as much as you want to rescue Carrot.”

“I am willing to help,” Geth said.

Matt nodded.

“So how are we to rescue them?”  Geth asked.

“Well, the trouble is that I literally have only half an idea on that,” Archimedes said.  “You see, under my house is my very first, original secret escape tunnel.  It goes from the basement to the aqueduct tower, two streets over.  However, the door is quite thick and is barred on the inside so as to keep thieves from entering.  So we can use the tunnel on the way out, but first we need a way to get inside the house, as at the moment the house is heavily guarded.”

“I may have the other half of your idea,” said Matt.

And he explained . . . .

Geth managed a smile.  “I recall an ancient tale told around the village fires, in which three warriors used such a trick to rescue a princess held in a dungeon by a black knight.”

“I think I know that story,” Matt replied.  “Anyway, it would work better if I had a uniform too.”

Geth reached under the table, placed a bag on top, and opened.  “I have one here for you already.”

“This is a remarkably convenient coincidence,” Archimedes said, eying the spare uniform that was complete with helmet and sword.   

  “My original plan for the rescue of Matt,” Geth replied, “was to penetrate into the prison while wearing the uniform I have on, find him and give him the uniform I have in this bag, and then have us both walk out freely as soldiers in disguise.”

Matt frowned.  “How did you get ahold of
two
uniforms?”

“I bought them at a military surplus shop.  How otherwise would I obtain uniforms?”

“Uh . . . I had a picture of you sneaking behind soldiers on the street and conking them out.”

“Ah.  Perhaps when I was younger.”

Briefly, Archimedes wondered where a man who had been a slave the day before yesterday had acquired enough funds to buy not only two soldiers' uniforms but standard-issue swords as well.  But time was limited and he motioned toward the door, paid their tab, and led them onto the street into the mid-day sun. 

A boy on the street was passing out handbills, and Geth took one and frowned. 

"Would you like me to read?" Archimedes asked.

Geth snapped,  "I can read for myself, Roman."