Scaevola's Triumph (Gaius Claudius Scaevola trilogy Book 3) (4 page)

"Trust me on this," he said to his sister. "Now there's going to be four of us and millions of them. Of course, weep for Quintus, and if you want to blame me, do it now."

"Blame you?"

"The argument with Quintus and the corn," Gaius explained. "Quintus got mad with me, and that's probably why he ended up in a different cell, which, in turn, is why you're here and not a slave somewhere else. If you want to blame me, do it now, because when we get to wherever this flight takes us, we have to stand together."

"I agree with that," Timothy added.

Lucilla sobbed, then said to her brother, "I don't blame you, but . . ." She started again.

"Lie down and rest," Gaius tried to soothe her. "Timothy, I'll show you how to work the weapon. You guard the women, and I'm off to explore."

"You don't trust the Tin Man?" Timothy frowned.

"I don't trust the alien," Gaius shrugged. "If we represent a likely death sentence, he may well try to get rid of us, on the basis he can't get any worse off."

"Is it wise to wander off?" Vipsania asked. "We should stay together, and . . ."

"I think we need some independent information," Gaius replied. "Yes, there's a risk, but there may be a bigger risk sitting here doing nothing. Either we trust the Tin Man or we do not. If we do, the ship won't attack me, and will warn me if the alien gets too close. If we've been told the truth and he has no special weapons, with a gladius I'm quite able to deal with anything he's likely to come up with. If we can't trust the Tin Man then we are absolutely doomed unless we can learn enough to get out of this mess. I have no choice."

Vipsania nodded agreement. She was hardly convinced that an expedition was a good idea, but she had to admit that someone had to leave the cage sooner or later.

Chapter 3

Gaius stepped out of the cage, then turned left and strode purposefully onwards. He had to give the impression of confidence. The cages were now empty, the animals presumably having been sent to the zoo. Once he was sure he was well out of sight of the others, he became more tentative, but he found the door and inserted the card in the slot. The door opened. He tried level two.

There were long corridors and any number of rooms. Some opened for him, but most did not, and those that did open contained little of interest. However, he carefully committed to memory the location of as many things as he could think of names for. Then, finding this boring, when he found another elevator he asked for the bridge. The movement seemed effortless, the door opened, and there was the Tin Man.

"So, what do you think of level two?" the Tin Man asked.

"You know where I went?" Gaius asked.

"Of course. I let you see what was where, but there were some places where you could have damaged either yourself or the ship, and . . ."

"You don't trust me?"

"It's not a question of trust at this stage," the Tin Man said. "You will not understand what you are doing, and that is dangerous."

"I understand," Gaius nodded.

"Whether you do remains to be seen," the Tin Man said. "In the meantime, tell me about your theories, and the objects you have in your bag."

So Gaius explained about the theory of Aristarchus, and how he had been convinced, of how he had lost the argument on the ground that orbiting objects should disintegrate, and how he had refuted that by dropping stones off the bridge. Then he told him about his idea for a machine that was powered by steam, of the problems he had faced. The contents of the bag were, at this moment, the records of his thoughts on sheets of papyrus, and bits and pieces for the engine.

"And that's all?" the Tin Man asked.

Gaius had already decided there was little point in lying. If the Tin Man knew where the captain of the ship was, he would know about the weapon. He may even gain some credit by openly telling the truth. "If you're asking about the unaccounted for weapon, Timothy should have that in his hand," he said. "I'm concerned about our previous captor, and I'm unconvinced you can stop him."

"And why are you unconvinced?"

"Because you are leaving him wander around," Gaius said flatly. "I'm only guessing, but I think you were made, and your maker has left you incapable of hurting other . . . whatever. That would be sensible, but it stops you from capturing him. If you cannot capture him, you cannot stop him from hurting my people, and . . ."

"That is a fair analysis of the problem," the Tin Man said. "Let me tell you this. Your analysis on your solar system was correct. Planets go around their star, moons go around their planets . . ."

"Moons?" Gaius could not help asking.

"Oh yes," the Tin Man offered. "Some planets have many moons. In fact we are coming up to one now. Here, I shall produce a seat for you."

Gaius turned to look behind him. There was a seat. What was puzzling was it had not been there before.

"Sit down," the Tin Man said. "It won't hurt you."

Gaius stared suspiciously at it, but then decided that if the Tin Man did want to hurt him, there were easier ways to do so. He sat, and was surprised to find how absolutely comfortable the seat was.

"Now, relax," the Tin Man said, "and do not feel frightened."

"And what have I got to be frightened about?" Gaius asked. He tried to appear unconcerned, but he was only too aware that the concern he felt was showing through in his voice.

"You will feel in danger of falling," the Tin Man said. "You will feel the ship's floor has disappeared. It won't have. It will just be out of sight."

With that, the ship's walls, ceiling, and floor all appeared to disappear. Gaius gasped, clung to the seat, then inched forward and pushed down with a foot. The floor was still there.

"I am still standing here," the Tin Man pointed out.

"I couldn't resist testing," Gaius said, a little self-consciously.

"So, what do you think?"

"Its breath-taking," Gaius said, as he stared at a surprisingly large reddish yellow ball. Then he frowned. "I . . ."

"Yes?"

"I don't recognize the star patterns. Is this . . ?"

"Remember the argument you told me you had about stars? About how one argument was that the Earth wasn't going around the sun because if it were, the pattern should change as the Earth went from one side to the other of the sun?"

"I argued that that was because the stars had to be too far away," Gaius nodded.

"You were correct," the Tin man said, "but we have gone an immense distance, and over that distance the stars have changed their patterns. In fact, very few of the stars you know can be seen from here. These are effectively stars so far from your planet they are too dim for you to see them."

"Which is our sun?"

"It's in that direction," the Tin man said. "It's too faint to be easily seen from here, but we have a means to see it. I'll show you later. Now, what do you think of that?"

Gaius followed the arm in the direction of the huge ball. "That's a planet?" he frowned.

"It is."

"There're no seas, there's no . . ."

"It's a different sort of planet," the Tin Man said. "It's what we call a gas giant. It is immensely bigger than your Earth. It's almost all gas, or air, as you might call it, except you can't breathe that."

"So Earth is unusual?"

"That's what we call a rocky planet," the Tin Man said. "There was an earth-like planet in this system too, where the owners of the zoo lived, and where you would have lived if you had been let off. In your solar system, further from what you call Mars you have two gas giant planets, and further out two ice and gas giants."

"Four? I thought . . ."

"You can probably only see two of them with the naked eye," the Tin Man said. "I know the names you give your planets. Guess which two."

"Saturn," Gaius said after a moment's thought, then after more thought he added, "and Jupiter."

"Why them?"

"You said they were further out," Gaius said. "Therefore with further to go they take longer to go around the sun."

"Correct," the Tin Man said. "They also travel more slowly. Anyway, that planet there is a little smaller than your Jupiter. And, if you look carefully, you can see two small spheres, here . . . and here." Somehow, something pointed.

"Yes!"

"They are moons."

"It has two moons?"

"It has many, but three large moons. The third is around the other side, and you can't see it yet. In fact, the way we are travelling, you won't until the ship is the same distance from the star as the planet, then you will be able to see around the back. That will not take very long, because we are accelerating well. If you would like to keep looking, I would like to see your writings."

Suddenly, Gaius recalled the prophecy. Record your writings and show them to no person. At the time, that had seemed ridiculous, but now, that metal man could reasonably be described as "no person". He was still within the future that Athene had promised! "You're welcome," Gaius said, "provided they don't get damaged."

"They are perfectly safe with me," the Tin Man replied. "Before I go, I need you to do something."

"Yes?"

"Tell your Timothy not to use that weapon on me, and let me look at the bag."

"I'll have to go with you," Gaius shrugged.

"Not at all. Stay seated, and turn to that wall." Gaius did, and was surprised to see Vipsania and Lucilla staring in disbelief at him.

"Wh where did you come from?" Vipsania said, and moved towards him.

"Stop!" the Tin Man ordered, then explained, "Gaius is on the bridge, at the front of the ship. This is just a picture of what he is doing. You can talk."

"Gaius! Is that really you?"

"Yes! Isn't this amazing!"

"What are you doing?"

"Looking outside," Gaius explained. "There's a huge planet outside. It looks very impressive. You should . . ."

"You can show them what you are looking at," the Tin Man said, "but first . . ."

"Oh, yes," Gaius nodded. "The Tin Man . . ."

"Tin Man?" the Tin Man almost snorted.

". . . want's to look at my bag of papers. Show them to him, and do not use the weapon on him, but keep the weapon."

"That's fine," Timothy nodded.

"Now," the Tin Man said, "I am handing Gaius a square. If he holds that up, and presses this small button, what he is looking at will be shown on the wall opposite to where you are currently looking. Go on," he said, handing the object to Gaius, "show them."

Gaius took the square and swivelled towards the image of the planet. He centred it, pressed the button, then saw an image form on the wall behind.

"By the Gods!" Vipsania muttered, then she turned back towards Gaius and said, "That's a planet? That's what Earth is?"

"It's a planet," Gaius said, in a knowing and learned tone, "but not like Earth. It seems it's all gas. Or air."

By the time Gaius had repeated what he knew about gas giants and rocky planets, the Tin Man came into view. He opened the bag, looked at the metal objects, then took the papers and within five seconds had glanced through them. He placed them back in the bag, and turned towards Gaius' image.

"I can see you didn't think much of that," Gaius muttered.

"And how did you come to that conclusion?"

"You hardly looked at them," Gaius muttered, his hurt feelings now quite obvious.

The Tin Man took out the papers and handed them to Timothy, then he turned his back. "Take any page you care," he said, "and read the first six words on the page."

Timothy looked at the Tin Man's back in puzzlement, but he did. To his surprise, when he had finished, the Tin Man recited word perfectly everything that was on the page.

"That was what was written on that page," the Tin Man said, "and additionally, there's a brown stain of some sort starting at line eleven, third word, and ending diagonally at line nineteen, word nine."

"He's correct!" a puzzled Timothy said.

"Gaius, I read every word you wrote. Your metal objects? I could reproduce them exactly, with the exact same pitch on the thread, and with imperfections in exactly the same place."

"But you only just looked at them?"

"And recorded their images in the ship's computers. You don't know what that means, and some time I'll explain. In the meantime, believe me, I have read what you wrote."

"And . . ?"

"It's a total disaster!" the Tin Man said.

"I'm that wrong?"

"You're that right!" the Tin Man countered. "I'm thinking more of this ship and your planet. You have found what all advanced technologies agree is the beginning of physics, but even worse, your steam device is the recognized beginning of technology and industrialization, words that you can't understand, but, just say they lead to being able to construct ships that travel between the stars."

"Oh," was all Gaius could reply

"There's worse," the Tin Man added. "You have been in contact with your
Princeps
."

"Yes, I met Claudius as a boy, and . . ."

"And Claudius has written, promising to fund what sounds suspiciously like the beginnings of the very first University on your planet. Not only have you made important discoveries, but you were also in a position to have them implemented. Your removal has irreversibly altered the future of your civilization."

"I'm sure it won't fall over just because I'm gone," Gaius countered.

"It will go on the way it was going," the Tin Man said, "but had you not been removed and had the
Princeps
kept his word to you, you would have been in a position to completely alter that, and you would have started your civilization on the road to where Ulse is now."

"They'll still do that," Gaius smiled. He was somewhat embarrassed by this assessment.

"Perhaps, perhaps not," the Tin Man said. "Progress is not inevitable, because once certain stages are reached, there is only so much time to reach the next, or the civilization ceases to advance, and in many cases may even reverse. Think of Egypt, on your planet. They made a number of advances, then stopped seeking advance. They became stuck at a stage, held there by strict adherence to the principle of maintaining themselves where they were. Without change, your Roman empire will reach boundaries, and once that happens . . ."