Scaevola's Triumph (Gaius Claudius Scaevola trilogy Book 3) (2 page)

"And it becomes a problem over two thousand years later," Athene retorted.

"True, but if there are a line of descendents, we never can tell."

Doctor Chu took Athene's hand and asked, "Please, will you try this? We have to do something soon because that timeline amplitude is already starting to decay. If we do nothing, it is all over for humanity.

"And why, if we make that suggestion," Athene asked, "won't it backfire, and have all the Romans made slaves on Ranh?"

"Because you tell the trader that there are two breeding pairs and Kroth will pay much more for them."

"But you don't tell the ship," Grenfell added quickly.

"No, indeed not," Doctor Chu confirmed. "You tell the alien while he is sleeping through the interstellar travel. His path goes quite close to Ranh, and −"

"Won't work," Athene said. "Once he gets up to light speed and is asleep, he cannot change the flight. But there is an opportunity while he is lying down just after the Romans were put into their cages. He becomes disconnected to the ship because he wants to send a message to Kroth, and he does not want the ship to have evidence of it."

"What he is doing is not exactly legal," Grenfell nodded.

"No, it isn't, and looking at the timeline amplitude, I think I had better try it," Athene said. "You are right in one sense. If we don't try something we are done, and this is all we have on the plate right now."

"Better to try and fail, than simply fail," Doctor Chu agreed.

Athene reached over and began twiddling dials. Immediately the amplitude of the time line returned to where it had been. As Doctor Chu had explained, as long as it appeared that something was going to happen, the probabilities returned to where they had been, awaiting the effect of the new intervention. Doctor Chu and Ralph began quickly phrasing what should be sent, and offered Athene their guesses for comment. Athene made a big effort at tuning the equipment, not because she could not do it faster, but rather to draw it out as long as possible so as to get the message into the best form.

The message was sent, then they all began to watch the amplitude of the timeline probability monitor.

"Well, you've certainly done something," Grenfell said. "We've never seen anything like this before."

He was correct. Where before, after doing something, the probability amplitude of the timeline on their monitor would either increase or, when it became apparent that the paradox would not be resolved, the amplitude would disappear entirely, this time the amplitude was fluctuating wildly, bouncing up and down between one and zero.

"What on earth is going on?" Athene asked.

"My guess," Doctor Chu smiled, "is we have generated a Schrödinger cat. The paradox is resolved, but we do not know which way until we observe it."

"But we are observing it," Grenfell protested.

"No, we are not," Doctor Chu replied. "We are the cats inside the box. Someone from outside has to observe us, and they will tell us whether we are alive or dead."

"And all humans are dead or on a different timeline," Athene sighed. "There is nobody to observe us."

"Not entirely true," Doctor Chu said. "There is still your Roman party. After what you added to the Ulsians, they may give them the means of making an observation."

"Why can't we see ourselves?" Grenfell asked. "I mean, I can see my hand, and for that matter, the cat could see its paw, at least if it were still alive."

"Ha, the formalism refuses the possibility that the cat can self-resolve," Doctor Chu remarked."

"Stupid formalism," Grenfell said. "But then, if you have to look from the outside, we can use the temporal viewer and . . ."

"Unfortunately," Athene replied, "we cannot see within our own paradox. We can only see events leading up to it, until this equipment started to be built."

"So, what now?"

"I suggest we all take turns to monitor this equipment, in case we get a message from Ulse, and in the meantime, I intend to eat something and get some sleep."

"I'll take the first watch," Grenfell offered.

Chapter 2

Gaius' head felt as though he had had too much wine to drink. He stirred slightly, then he felt his muscles. Stiff and uncomfortable. He tried to get up, and found he couldn't. He heard Vipsania moan. Something was very wrong. He struggled to the kneeling position. He felt so heavy.

Both Vipsania and Lucilla were seemingly struggling merely to wake up, while Timothy seemed to be fast asleep. He looked around, and the more he looked, the more this looked exactly like what it was: a cage. They were prisoners. That wretched creature had rescued them from the Celts, but then must have decided to make money from them. But for Gaius and his party, the creature would have been in a pit, unarmed, and at the debatable mercy of those Celts. Since it had killed two Celts already, it should surely have realized the Celts would kill it. So much for gratitude.

This infernal headache made it hard to think. He had been drugged. No, they all had been drugged, and that meant they were being taken to where that miserable creature came from. Since they were in a cage, that could only mean that they were intended to be sold as slaves. He remembered the question Timothy had posed to him, "What would he do if he were a slave?" It looked suspiciously as if he were about to find out. At least his precious sacks and gladius were still in the corner where he had left them. If he decided to, he could stand and fight, and die. No! That was exactly what he must not do. He had to survive. He had to trust the prophecy.

"Why do I feel like this?" Lucilla croaked. "I need a drink."

"It's all right," the Tin Man said. It appeared that he had been watching them, although this was the first time anyone noticed his presence "I have food and water." He opened the door, and laid a tray down.

Gaius struggled to his feet. Before he could decide what to do, he needed information. "Where are we?" he croaked. He took a glass of water, something that seemed to be intended as bread, some cheese and an apple.

"If I told you, you wouldn't understand," the Tin Man replied.

"You arrogant . . ." Gaius muttered.

The Tin Man totally ignored this comment, which only made Gaius angrier. How dare . . . But then he pulled himself together. It was bad strategy to simply annoy what might be his only source of information. It might be true that understanding would be difficult, for after all he did not understand how something that looked vaguely like a man could be made out of metal and then hold a conversation. Nonetheless, if he were ever going to get home, he had to find out where he was before he could address the question of how. Perhaps if he goaded this metal whatever? "How come you're so sure? You think I'm stupid?" Gaius tried.

"No, I don't think you are stupid," the Tin Man replied tonelessly. "You have no means by which a being at your level of development could conceivably understand. Accordingly, it would be a waste of time informing you."

The arrogance of him, Gaius thought. Then another thought occurred to him; he remembered how he had worked out the nature of the tides. He had started out thinking about being in a box that was falling. This great metal object was as good as his box. He had to think carefully, and try to goad the Tin Man into telling him what he needed to know. Whether it would be of any use was another matter.

"If I made a guess sufficiently close to show I could have some level of understanding," Gaius said slowly, "would you tell me exactly what is going on, in words I can have some hope of coming to grips with?"

"It would be a waste of time guessing," the Tin Man said. He gently lifted the clearly groggy Timothy so his head and shoulders could lean against a wall. He poured him some water, which Timothy gulped down. He then began a fit of coughing, and needed another small drink.

Gaius thought about this last comment, and when the Tin Man had finished helping Timothy he stood before him in a challenging way and said, "If that were so, it wouldn't hurt for you to promise. If you're correct, you don't have to tell me anything."

"You think you have a hope of understanding?" the Tin Man replied in a slower tone, which seemed to show signs of curiosity.

"To a certain level, yes," Gaius said flatly, "as long as you make the effort to try to make it understandable."

"So if you do not understand it will be my fault?" Again, a flat, toneless statement.

"Not if you make a genuine effort," Gaius replied.

"And how will you know whether I am making the effort?" the Tin man said.

"I am quite confident," Gaius bluffed, "that if you promise you will make the effort, you won't be able not to."

"You think that? Do you know what I am?"

"You are made," Gaius said, "and your maker would not permit himself to be deceived, so he would make deception under certain circumstances impossible. I am hoping that your promising will initiate such circumstances."

"Then I agree to your terms," the Tin Man said.

"That's a promise?" Gaius asked. Lucilla and Vipsania were staring at Gaius in almost disbelief. They were half afraid that Gaius would trigger the Tin Man to walk away from them, or worse, and half in awe that Gaius might have found a way to make progress.

"It is a statement," the Tin Man said. "As you implied, I cannot make false statements. Guess?"

"We are moving between the stars," Gaius said flatly.

"What?" Both Lucilla and Vipsania stared at Gaius as if he were mad.

"What makes you say that?" the Tin Man said, after something of a pause.

"We went into a machine that went up," Gaius said, "and we didn't come down. We're in the same giant craft, because this door's the same, and you use a little craft to get back to Earth. Therefore we are still up. We can't be circling a star or a planet, so we must be travelling between them."

"Interesting logic," the Tin Man said. "As it happens, the last conclusion is wrong."

"Wrong?" Gaius asked. "We're on a planet?" he continued in both surprise and hope. "I wouldn't have thought a ship this big would land."

"As it happens, you are circling a planet around a star that is not your sun," the Tin man said, "which is close to what you guessed. But tell me, why did you say we couldn't be circling a star, or, since you seem to know about them, a planet, when you had got so far?"

Gaius stared at the Tin Man in dismay, then said, "Unless something is terribly wrong, this should not be possible."

"Believe me, it is true," the Tin Man said.

"Then I must be wrong," Gaius frowned, "but how?"

"Tell me why you you're so sure we cannot be circling a planet," the Tin Man said, "and tell me now. If you wish to improve your future, you have to explain within the next two minutes."

"We're prisoners, aren't we?" Vipsania asked. She stared vacantly at the Tin Man, with the lack of expression of someone who senses extreme dread.

"Or slaves," Lucilla added coldly.

"If you do not do something to change the present situation," the Tin Man said, "you will spend the rest of your lives in cages, as zoo exhibits, on the planet below. The owners of the zoo are boarding now, to collect you."

"Gaius!" Vipsania shuddered. "If you can, please do something."

"Forget the sword," the Tin Man said firmly, as he saw Gaius glance towards his possessions. "Gaius, assuming that is your name, if you had a reason for what you said before, tell me. Believe me, it is now or never if you want to stay out of that zoo."

"Please," Vipsania said. She seemed to sense that the Tin Man was offering an escape route, but Gaius had to go further, wherever that was.

"Gaius!" Timothy half-croaked. "I concede the bet. I believe you were correct, so please, tell him."

It was then that Gaius felt strangely calm. Athene had told him that one future involved spending the rest of his life caged, unless he had proved the Earth went around the sun, and he must tell no person. The Tin Man was not a person, and the zoo would be the cage. "It's rather simple," Gaius said to Vipsania. "If we are circling a planet without power, we must be falling towards it." He paused, then added, "We are also moving away to the side so we stay the same distance, except we go around."

"Go on!" the Tin Man said, almost urgently.

"Well, I am . . . well, I suppose was, convinced that all things fell at the same rate," Gaius said. He turned to a puzzled Vipsania and added, "Remember the bridge? Remember how I dropped different weights off it? Remember how I said that made it possible for Aristarchus to be correct?"

"Aristarchus?" the Tin Man asked.

"He believed the planets went around the sun," Gaius explained.

"And you believed that?"

"I thought I'd proved it," Gaius said, "but it appears that I was wrong."

"Explain clearly why do you think you were wrong?" There seemed to be even more urgency in the Tin Man's voice.

"Because if everything falls at the same rate, we should fall at the same rate as the ship. There should be no force holding us to the floor." He paused, then added, "That's why I thought we must be going between the stars. There had to be a force pushing the ship up into us!"

There was a long pause, then finally the Tin Man said, "And nobody else on your planet had come to that conclusion?"

"Everyone thinks heavier things fall faster than light things and that our planet is the centre of the universe," Gaius shrugged.

"And you believe things fall at the same rate?" The Tin Man's voice had, for the first time, changed, and he was now urging Gaius to say the right thing.

"He's proved it by dropping things off a bridge," Timothy interrupted. "He also, proved that the Earth went around the sun by a geometrical analysis of the tides." He had sensed from the Tin Man's urgency that whether Gaius believed he was correct was important to their future. "I still think he's right and there's something additional going on here."