Athena's Son (11 page)

The slave gasped and Berenike snickered.

“
For the sake of the gods,” Ptahhotep sneered, “give me that crown before you dunk it in the cup too.” He got up and walked over to Archimedes. He yanked the crown away and gave Archimedes a hateful glare. “Pick up those dates under my chair, you fool!”

Archimedes was crushed. It seemed the more he tried to help people, the angrier the priest got. He felt like he let Callimachus and Pharaoh Ptolemy down. Especially Callimachus. Callimachus stood up for him twice now and Archimedes began to fear he wouldn’t live up to his teacher’s expectations.

He walked over and crawled under Ptahhotep’s chair. It was beautiful cedar wood with intricate engravings of Horus and his mother Isis. The detailed carvings opened the back of the chair to the sun, letting shadows of Horus speckle across Archimedes’ tunic. His cheek with the scab brushed against a leg of the chair and the pain reminded him of the slap Ptahhotep gave him yesterday. He continued picking up the wayward dates and putting them in his tunic.

Pharaoh Ptolemy was discussing something with Remus, Berenike was chiding the servant, and Callimachus and Ptahhotep were arguing again. For the first time today, it seemed to Archimedes, no one noticed the 12-year-old schoolboy from Syracuse. He got up, brushed himself off, and strode over to Callimachus.

Callimachus put his hand on Archimedes’ shoulder. “We can go back to the school, Archimedes. Do not despair. It is a complex problem and no one has been able to solve it. You need to begin your studies and the Pharaoh needs to discuss the murders with his advisors.” They began to walk out the same way Archimedes and Berenike came in earlier.

“
It’s a miracle the boy can wash his hands without emptying the Nile,” Ptahhotep mocked at Archimedes.

Archimedes stopped. “Eureka!”

He turned back toward the throne. “I can solve your problem, Pharaoh Ptolemy. All I need is a bowl of water.”

Chapter 16

Water was Egypt’s most precious resource. The Nile River inundated the land with fertile silt each flooding season and provided farmers with water to irrigate their crops. Now Archimedes needed just a bowl of it to help the pharaoh solve his problem.

“
Archimedes,” Callimachus asked cautiously. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

Archimedes was walking toward Ptahhotep to get the crown, but he stopped and turned toward Callimachus. “Callimachus, you put your faith in me and now I will repay that trust with a solution.”

Pharaoh Ptolemy stood and asked loudly, “What is going on Callimachus? Is your student playing games?”

Ptahhotep saw another chance to mock the clumsy schoolboy. “Are you coming back to spill water and dates? Let me teach this foolish child a lesson, pharaoh.”

Berenike stepped up to Ptolemy and put her hand on his. “Please father, Archimedes is my friend and I am responsible for bringing him here. And remember, it was you who challenged him to solve your problem. He is only accepting your request.” She opened her green eyes wide in a silent appeal.

Ptolemy looked into his daughter’s eyes and saw in them the same determination he had. He softened his tone, only a little, and addressed Archimedes. “Very well. I did challenge you to find an answer. What is this about a bowl of water, Archimedes?”

“
Just a moment ago he couldn’t even hold a cup of water,” Ptahhotep said. “Now he wants try to hold both this priceless crown and a bowl of water.”

“
Is it priceless?” Archimedes quickly retorted. “I thought it was only bronze.”

The room went silent. The only reaction from Ptolemy was a raised eyebrow.

Now Ptahhotep was nearly snarling. “Your tongue tries to conceal your weakness, schoolboy.” Anger seethed in his heavy breathing and narrowed eyes. He clutched the crown tightly. “I need to take this crown back to the temple to examine it.”

Remus Decimus walked over to Ptahhotep. “May I see it?” he asked in his silk voice. Ptahhotep did not want to relinquish it, but it was a gift from Remus, so he reluctantly handed it over. “Still as exquisite as when it left the shop of Gavius Barbitus, Rome’s finest jeweler. Quite a shame,” he gave Ptahhotep a smiling cat look, “to accuse it of being cursed.” He slid over to Archimedes and whispered, “Do not ruin it, child. It is worth more than your life.”

Archimedes wasn’t sure if that was a threat or compliment. Archimedes examined the golden laurel wreath and felt the weight of it in his hands. Each leaf sparkled like a miniature sun. The Pharaoh stepped down from his throne toward Archimedes. As he did the guards followed. “Explain your solution,” he said gravely.

“
If I may, Pharaoh, could your servants get the few materials I need?”

After several minutes, two servants returned with a table and placed the items Archimedes requested on it. Archimedes stepped toward the table and was quickly surrounded by the Pharaoh, Callimachus, Ptahhotep, Remus, and Berenike.

A whole stadium could have been watching but Archimedes would not have taken any notice; his mind was spinning like the gears of his calculator. He bent over, moved some things, and then straightened up.

“
The problem is not finding the gold content of this crown,” Archimedes began, “because it can be melted down. Rather, the problem is how to devise a reliable system so none of the precious items coming into Alexandria have to be destroyed.”

Archimedes put his finger on the rim of a large alabaster bowl sitting on top of a wide alabaster plate. The bowl was so full that if a needle was dropped in, a droplet of water would have seeped over the side.

The solution became clear when Ptahhotep laughed at him and told him not to drop the crown in the water. “By completely immersing the wreath in this bowl of water, an amount of water equal to the total volume of the crown will be expelled. This large plate,” he pointed to the alabaster plate underneath the bowl, “will collect the water that spills.”

Callimachus, standing to the left of Archimedes, let out a slow breath. He now knew what Archimedes was going to do. It was so simple, but no one had ever come up with such an effective solution to measuring volume before. Callimachus shook his head in amazement.

“
The water that spills onto the plate will be poured into this glass beaker, which will measure the volume of the water, and at the same time, the volume of the gold wreath.” Archimedes’ hand moved to the measuring scales. They were the same bronze scales the men were using to weigh gold when he and Berenike first entered the palace.

“
Next, we weigh the crown. Gold is nearly twice the weight of other metals. By taking the weight of the crown and matching it to its volume, we can calculate exactly what the gold, silver or bronze content is.”

Archimedes turned to Ptolemy. “The crown isn’t melted, the gold content is measured, and your lighthouse is built.”

Ptahhotep jumped on the assumption. “You have not determined the gold content yet.”

“
No more discussion,” Ptolemy ordered. “Complete your investigation Archimedes.”

Under the intense gaze of the group, Berenike handed the crown to Archimedes, who gently lowered it into the bowl. He was careful not to drop it or let his fingers break the plane of the water surface. Either mistake would impair the accuracy of the results. Water trickled over the edges of the bowl at the same rate the crown was lowered in until the crown clinked when it hit the bottom. Archimedes waited several moments before he removed the bowl, lifted the plate, and meticulously poured the water into the glass beaker. He lifted the beaker to eye level and said to Callimachus, “One hundred sixty centimeters.” Callimachus wrote the figure down on a sheet of papyrus.

Archimedes turned to Pharaoh Ptolemy. “Gold weighs 19 grams per cubic centimeter. Silver is nearly half that. If the crown is pure gold…”

“
It is,” Remus whispered quickly.

“
If it is,” Archimedes continued, “the crown will weigh 3 kilograms.”

Archimedes carefully removed the gold wreath from the bowl and dried it off. He set the crown on one of the scales. He added blocks of lead weights in increments on the opposite side. Each block made a soft tap when they were placed on the flat plate opposite the crown. The plate with the crown moved slightly up with each block that was added. As the two scales became nearly even, Archimedes began adding smaller and smaller lead weights. When the scales balanced, Archimedes looked at Callimachus, who smiled.

“
What is it?” Ptolemy asked as one who is not used to waiting.

“
Exactly 3 kilograms,” Callimachus answered. “Pure gold.”

“
Blasphemy!” Ptahhotep growled. He stalked over to his large wooden chair, dropped on it and crossed his arms. “Dunking a crown in a bowl of water proves nothing except…Ow!” Ptahhotep jumped out of his chair as if he were stung by a bee. He turned and rubbed his back.

Ptahhotep sat down with some trepidation and continued his rant. “How can a bowl of water negate what the gods have…Yow!” Again, Ptahhotep was out of his chair, rubbing his back. This time, instead of sitting down, he stormed out of the throne room.

“
What in the name of Zeus is wrong with him?” Ptolemy asked. He looked at Callimachus, who only shrugged his shoulders.

Archimedes turned to hide a smile, but came face to face with Berenike, who gave him a knowing smirk. “What did you do?” Berenike whispered. “I know a prank when I see it.”

“
When I was picking up the bowl of dates earlier, I lodged your oval piece of glass in the back of Ptahhotep’s chair. Back at the library, I told you an elliptical shaped glass is capable of focusing the rays of the sun in one spot. Regrettably, Ptahhotep’s back was that one spot.”

“
Archimedes, I didn’t know you had a devious side!” she said. “We’re going to make a great team. With my grit and your gift, we can solve Alexander’s murder.” Her sea green eyes sparkled and Archimedes was becoming more and more drawn into the energy that swirled around her like a ship sucked into a whirlpool.

Callimachus, Ptolemy, and Remus were discussing the results of the experiment. Remus diligently took the crown from the scales and handed it to Ptolemy. “As I said, Great King, this priceless wreath was crafted in Rome and has not changed at all on its journey across the Mediterranean. A valuable gift,” Remus painted on his smile, “for our valuable friends.”

Ptolemy looked from the scales, to the bowl of water, and then his eyes rested on Archimedes. “You have solved what my scholars, scientists, priests could not. I concur with Callimachus, Archimedes; you are a gifted scientist.”

“
I told you father,” Berenike said, “Archimedes is capable of mystifying things.” She gave him a covert nudge in the side. “That is why I brought Archimedes here to see you. He is going to help me with my investigation into the murder of Alexander.”

But Ptolemy was already walking back to his throne. “Your friend,” Ptolemy said solemnly, “solved one problem, daughter.” He sat on the throne with purpose and looked around at everyone in the room. “But there is still a bigger problem: My workers are being killed. No one has been able to solve that, but maybe this young scientist can.”

Archimedes turned in shock to Callimachus, who was forming an argument to present to the pharaoh on why Archimedes may be too young to undertake a task that soldiers and doctors had been unable to solve.

The slapping of sandals echoed from a side entrance and a soldier burst into the room. He appeared to be a captain of the guards. He wore a robe and had a necklace with three golden flies that bobbed with his quick pace. The golden fly was given to soldiers who displayed bravery in battle.

The soldier stopped in front of Ptolemy and knelt. He bowed his head and said, “Pardon me, Great King. But you gave instructions to be informed without delay on any developments with the murders at the lighthouse.”

Great, thought Archimedes. They’ve caught whoever is doing this. I won’t have to leave my studies.

“
Well?” Ptolemy asked impatiently.

“
A body has been discovered. There has been another murder.”

A scowl darkened the face of the pharaoh. Is there anything he can do to fight a murderous god? He narrowed his eyes at the soldier, then looked over at Archimedes.

“
Your science broke the curse on my crown. Now, by Zeus, you will break the curse on my lighthouse! Archimedes, I am ordering you to find out who is killing my workers.”

Chapter 17

Hazy, gray smoke curled out of a bronze incense burner. Frankincense filled the cool, dark room with a sweet, pungent odor. It mingled with the smell of death, which was no stranger to this place. Shafts of diffused sunlight tried to burn through the thick smoke and candles were burning in a futile attempt to add more light.

“
Bah!” The doctor straightened up and looked at his Egyptian colleague. “That dreadful smoke is blocking my light. Can’t we put it out so I can see what I am doing?”

Herophilos, a Greek physician, was examining the body of the 12th Egyptian worker found at the worksite of the lighthouse. They were in Herophilos’ surgery room, which was part of the medicine wing of the school where Herophilos taught human anatomy and sometimes conducted autopsies.