Eric Flint's Blog, page 174

Alexander Inheritance – Snippet 19

Alexander Inheritance – Snippet 19

“Kleitos,” Roxane said. “Just you.”

A man in bronze breastplate, with a steel sword at his side, made a gesture. The servants and most of the guards moved out of easy earshot. Attalus looked at the man. He was one of Alexander’s veterans, going a bit gray now, and like most of them scarred from years of fighting. He was stocky, but well-muscled, with curly brown hair. There was a curl to his lips that Attalus didn’t much care for, like he expected to be lied to and wasn’t going to believe you no matter what you said. But there was nothing for it. Roxane needed to be told. “They report that Peithon and Arrhidaeus will be forced to resign.”

There was a snort of laughter, then Kleitos said. “Excellent. Prove your validity as a seer by reporting what has already happened.”

“From five hundred miles away,” Attalus said. “They couldn’t have known when they sent word.”

“They couldn’t have,” Kleitos said, and Attalus started to stand in anger. Kleitos’ hand dropped to his sword.

“Stop it!” Roxane hissed.

Attalus got himself under control. He took a breath, then another. “I am not a liar, Kleitos.”

“And I’m not a babe, to be taken with fables and stories of magic ships from the future.”

“Neither am I, but there are too many reports from too many sources.”

“No. They all come through the signal fires and all it would take would be some prankster with more silver than sense bribing some signal man.” Kleitos sneered.

Suddenly Attalus relaxed, leaning back in his chair. “No. You’re wrong. You know that there are codes used to send the messages. The army has one, the merchants others, the civil government different codes. This latest report came through a commercial agent. A grain merchant. That means that it was encoded by his partner in Alexandria, before it was sent on signal fires. The prankster wouldn’t know those codes.”

“Unless it’s Ptolemy, playing some deep game on us all.”

Now it was Attalus’ turn to laugh. “Believe or don’t, Captain, it makes no difference to me.” Attalus turned back to Roxane. “Your Majesty, I believe that the ship is real, and I believe that the messages I have received about it are true. Your husband’s name lived on more than two thousand years into the future, and even details of the events following his death are recorded.” Attalus went on to repeat the news he had gotten from Cleisthenes, then said, “I believe its true. All of it, not just the parts confirmed.”

“It’s too ridiculous,” Kleitos insisted, then held up a hand. “It’s not you I doubt, Attalus. It’s…the world, I guess. But I think we need more before we act, if we can act at all. If we can change what is already written in the stars, we ought to be very sure before we do so.”

“Are you joining us, my captor?” Roxane asked, running a finger over the scroll work on the arm of the couch.

“For now, Majesty. At least until I get a better offer.”

“Then what do you recommend?” Attalus asked. And he couldn’t help but smile a little. Kleitos was, in his way, the quintessential soldier of Alexander the Great’s army, at least in these days after Alexander betrayed them all by dying. They didn’t believe in anything but their pay and their comrades — and sometimes not their comrades.

“You said Antipater would be captured. Wait until that happens. Wait until he arrives and gets captured. That’s not something I would guess at happening. If it happens on schedule, then we might act.”

“Act in what way?” Roxane asked. “Certainly, we can plan what to do if things fall out as the ship people say.”

“That’s a very good question,” Kleitos said. “Would you rather be in Antipater’s hands or Eurydice’s?”

“I know you don’t trust Eurydice, but will you trust me?” Attalus asked. “If I guarantee your safety, will you side with Eurydice against Antipater and Antigonus?”

“I’ll have to think about it,” Roxane said.

Triparadisus

September 24

“More news,” Cleisthenes told Attalus, standing in the afternoon sun and looking out at the orchards. “Word of the resignations reached Alexandria. Ptolemy released the signal mirrors to Atum based on that word. It proved that the ship folk really were from the future. So he let Atum send me word to protect the queens and the kings.”

“Ptolemy did that?” Attalus asked. “He wasn’t so loyal when he arranged the murder of my brother-in-law and my wife!”

Cleisthenes was silent and Attalus took a few deep breaths of the fruit-scented air to get himself under control. He knew what the merchant wasn’t saying. Ptolemy was being invaded when he had done those things.

But it left Attalus wondering what Ptolemy was up to. He was loyal to Alexander until he died, then Ptolemy was loyal to Ptolemy and no one else. He had been so close to trying for the crown after Alexander died that Attalus had been surprised when he didn’t. When he had stolen Alexander’s body on its way home to Macedonia, Attalus had been sure that Ptolemy was making his move. That was why Perdiccas had invaded Egypt.

Then, when Ptolemy beat Perdiccas on the Nile and had him and Atalante killed, he had again passed on the regency. But, again, it was because there was enough anger in the army about him and the Macedonian troops he had killed in the fighting to make it chancy. Ptolemy wasn’t a coward, but he was a careful man. Perhaps too careful. Attalus was convinced that it was that caution, not any concern for Alexander’s family, that had persuaded Ptolemy to allow the message.

Suddenly Attalus thought he understood. Ptolemy wanted the fight. He wanted the rest of the empire under the control of a teenaged girl, a deranged king, a weak widow, and an infant king. What better way to make it fail?

Attalus started to smile. Ptolemy had finally made a mistake. He had misread the women. Roxane was cautious, possibly too cautious, but not weak-willed. And Eurydice, young though she was, could move armies with her words.

Attalus hated Ptolemy almost as much as he hated Peithon, Arrhidaeus, and Seleucus. He would love to see the bastard humbled by a couple of women.

“Go on,” he said to Cleisthenes. “Tell me everything.”

Triparadisus

September 25

The sun was just setting as Antipater reached the north side of the river. He leaned back in his saddle and rubbed his back. At the urgent request of those incompetents, Peithon and Arrhidaeus, he had ridden ahead of the bulk of his army with only an ile of cavalry accompanying him. Two hundred fifteen horsemen, including him, Plistarch, and Cassander, his oldest surviving son. His eldest son Iollas had died at the Nile, serving that incompetent bastard, Perdiccas.

Antipater waved Cassander forward. “Camp the ile up near those trees, and have them prepare for the rest of the army.” He held up a hand, lest Cassander interrupt. “I know they’re tired. I don’t give a damn.”

“Yes, Father,” Cassander said, starting to turn his horse.

“And send me Plistarch,” Antipater said, then added loud enough for Cassander to hear: “At least he’s killed his boar.” Cassander tensed but rode back to the troops without commenting. Antipater snorted a laugh. Then he looked across the little wooden bridge. The river that ran through Triparadisus wasn’t much of one. Maybe ten feet across and four deep. But it would slow his horsemen, and when the rest of his army got here, it would slow them even more.

Not that that would matter. He reach up and scratched his beard. Not for Antipater the fad of imitating Alexander’s clean shaven face. The boy had only done it because his beard had started out a scraggly thing and he’d been embarrassed. Then it had become part of the legend, and by the time he could have grown a proper beard, Alexander couldn’t back down. Now half his generals were imitating the shaved state. No, these traitorous dogs will come to heel as soon as they are shown a firm hand. That was why he wanted Plistarch with him, even though the boy wasn’t half as clever as Cassander. He had killed his boar and the soldiers would respect that.

 

Alexander Inheritance – Snippet 18

Alexander Inheritance – Snippet 18

Second, it was established that a civil government based on the principles of representative democracy would be put in place. That the rights of individuals would be protected. Things like free speech and protection from unreasonable search and seizure, would be enshrined in the basic law of the new nation, as would the principle of equality before the law. The issue concerning the right to keep and bear arms was shelved for the moment, since Europeans and Americans had different traditions and attitudes on the question.

Through it all, there was a snake sitting under the table, rattling its rattles and preparing to strike. The snake had two heads; the first was simply that the Queen of the Sea wasn’t big enough for her population. The second was more subtle. The population was too small to be viable.

Biologically, the population was too small, and would be even if all of them were in their early twenties. The fact that well over half the women on board were past childbearing age made it even worse. Even among the men, a lot of the little swimmers were, nowadays, little waders.

But even worse was the question of cultural viability. They didn’t have a culture to be viable. The passengers were from all over the USA and Canada, with a sprinkling from other parts of the first world. The crew was divided into officers — mostly from Western Europe — and crew — a majority of whom were from Asia and the Pacific Isles, with a sizeable representation from Africa, Latin America and the Caribbean. It wasn’t a naturally cohesive group and it wasn’t made up of volunteers. Tensions between ship’s complement and passengers were increasing, and so were tensions between staff and crew, officers and lower deck crew.

About the only thing keeping it from blowing up was the threat of being murdered or enslaved by the pre-Christian primitives.

Triparadisus

September 23

Cleisthenes read the message, which was a set of letters. The Greek alphabet was used as both letters and as numbers. Three Greek letters could provide any number between one and nine hundred. Cleisthenes had a code book and what he got was a choice of seven hundred fifty-three phrases, and some number groups that indicated that the next numbers really were numbers. The code was nothing new, and variations on it were used from Carthage to Babylon. So, having received the message, he went to his tent and decoded it. Passage 354 read Peithon rode at the head of the army, and the next group instructed him to use only the first word.

It went on like that till Cleisthenes had the whole message. Peithon forced resign. Antipater captured. Cyclops rescues. Through ruse. Seleucus bribe. Ship from future. Tell queen.

Cleisthenes leaned back against his pillow on the bench at his work table and thought. Peithon and Arrhidaeus had been forced to resign, and had sent messages to Antipater telling him to hurry. And Seleucus was being very attentive to Eurydice. So was the message that he should bribe Seleucus? Or that One-eye would bribe Seleucus?

Cleisthenes didn’t trust Seleucus to stay bribed. Seleucus had tried to short him on the payment for the wheat twice now. He would have a talk with Attalus. There was no way he could get in to see Eurydice, or even Roxane.

* * *

Attalus was encamped next to the main camp, with a large contingent of guards to protect the silver coins he had gotten hold of, and merchants were a common sight in his camp. Cleisthenes made no real impression till he reached the tent of Attalus. “I need to see Attalus. I have important news of the giant ship.”

The guard nodded and went into the tent, and Cleisthenes was ushered in.

“Has it left the harbor at Alexandria?” Attalus asked quickly. The giant ship had been the talk of the army camp since the news arrived. And such news was of special concern for Attalus, because he had been Perdiccas’ naval commander and had kept control of the fleet. A fleet that was in serious jeopardy if a ship the size that was reported decided to threaten it. Such a ship could run over his fleet and leave it kindling, probably without taking any damage at all.

“No, General. It still sits quietly in Alexandria harbor, buying grain and other foodstuffs. And selling the finest quality steel on Earth and other goods of like quality. What I have just learned, or rather had confirmed, is where it comes from.”

“You’re saying it really is from the future?”

“Yes. I just got a message from Egypt that Peithon and Arrhidaeus would be forced to resign.”

“They already…Oh, I understand. They couldn’t have known that when they sent the message. So they are from the future, or they have some magi that can see at a great distance.”

“That’s not all the message said. They report that Antipater will be captured by the army and that Antigonus will come to his rescue with the assistance of Seleucus.”

They talked for a while. Attalus paid Cleisthenes a handsome bribe for the information, and to keep it to himself. “Also,” Attalus finished, “report any new information directly to me.”

* * *

Once Cleisthenes was gone, Attalus went for a walk. He needed to think. He moved around the camp with his bodyguard, and saw Seleucus talking with Eurydice.

Attalus had generally good relations with Eurydice, but she was wild. As he watched, it seemed like she was listening to Seleucus a bit too carefully. That decided him. He would tell Roxane, not Eurydice. He turned on his heel and headed across the camp.

Triparadisus was a set of three “paradises,” one large hunting park, an orchard of olive and fig trees, and a smaller walled garden with flowers, fruits and vegetables. The hunting lodge was located on the side of the river that held the trees and the vegetables, with the actual hunting park across the river. Across the river was also the direction from which Antipater was expected to arrive. So, while there were scouts on the other side of the river, most of the army was on this side. Both queens and both kings were located in the hunting lodge, though Eurydice wandered the camp at will.

Attalus climbed the three stone steps to the wooden porch of the hunting lodge and faced the guards. “I’m here to speak to Queen Roxane.”

“I’ll check but I doubt the queen will want to be…”

The guard trailed off, and Attalus handed him a large silver coin. “Please tell her it’s important.”

Shortly thereafter, Attalus was let into the presence. The little emperor was wielding — sucking on — a toy sword. It was made of wood, but painted in bright colors.

Roxane was sitting on a couch, leaning against one arm, eating a fig. “What can I do for you, Attalus?”

“I have word of the ship, the Queen of the Sea.”

Roxane sat up. “What news?”

Attalus looked around at the guards and serving maids, then back at Roxane. But she just shook her head. “I couldn’t dismiss them if I wanted to, Attalus, and I have no reason to trust you. How long will I live if Eurydice becomes the head of this army?”

“Longer than you might think. Eurydice may be impetuous, but she isn’t stupid.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Because I don’t trust Seleucus, and he’s too close to Eurydice right now.”

Roxane gestured to a chair. “Have a seat then. What news from the ship? Is it really from the future as they say?”

“Yes, and it carries some interesting information about what will happen.” Attalus took the offered seat and stopped talking. He was aware of the guards and not at all comfortable with their presence.

 

Alexander Inheritance – Snippet 17

Alexander Inheritance – Snippet 17

Chapter 6

Royal Lounge, Queen of the Sea

September 22

The tension in the bright and airy room could be cut with a knife. Captain Floden was keeping his poker face on, but Staff Captain Dahl was visibly bristling. Marie Easley, Amanda noted with carefully hidden amusement, was unbothered and perhaps even unaware of the tension. She was busy with a slate, checking pronunciations and tweaking the Greek translation program. She had an ear bud in one ear and was apparently paying no attention at all to the looks she was getting from the crew and, for that matter, Congressman Wiley.

“If you don’t find us too distracting,” Captain Floden said, “we’d like to discuss the warning you decided to issue to the locals about upcoming political events.”

Marie looked up. “Why?”

“Because it might have interfered with our negotiations with the locals on any number of matters. We’re expecting a visit from Ptolemy later today, and we have no idea how he reacted to your news,” Staff Captain Dahl said, and Congressman Wiley — for once — nodded in agreement.

“What are you nodding about, Congressman?” Dahl said hotly. “You’ve been half a step from open mutiny for the last three days.”

“Anders, calmly, please,” Jane Carruthers said, then looked at Wiley. “Not that I don’t agree with him, Congressman.”

“Then you are mistaken, Ms. Carruthers. The passengers are concerned, and rightly so. We have no plan. We simply react. If Professor Easley is to be censured for not following the plan, then there ought to be a plan. Not that I think she should have blurted out the predictions like a seeress at Delphi. Certainly not without consultation. But how can we expect her to follow the playbook if there is no playbook?”

Marie was now looking back at the slate.

Captain Floden held up a hand. “Believe it or not, Congressman, I tend to agree with your complaints, though I don’t agree that they justify incitement to mutiny.” He turned to Marie. “Is that why you went ahead and told them, Marie? Because there was no plan?”

“Not at all, Captain. I said what I said after careful, if quick, consideration, based on my judgment. I am an American citizen, even if America is lost in a distant future that will probably not happen at all. No one on Earth, either in the time we left or in this one, has the right to tell me I may not speak my mind. Some may, at some point, have the power to do so, but they still won’t have the right.”

She turned to Congressman Wiley. “‘Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.’ My right to speak my mind is not yours to restrict, nor is my right to paint myself blue and worship sacred groves, should I choose to do so. Not yours, or all of Congress, or the captain and all his crew. And, Congressman, you have sworn an oath to defend that right of mine and all the others.”

Amanda wanted to cheer. She looked around the room to see consternation on all the faces there. Then Captain Floden spoke up. “No one is trying to restrict your rights, Marie. We are simply asking for a bit of restraint in…”

“Captain Floden, I am not impressed by sentences that contradict themselves. If you are trying to impose restraint, you’re trying to restrict. You can’t do the one without doing the other.” Marie took a deep breath. “Congressman Wiley is right that we need a plan, but the first thing we need to decide is are we to be free people or helots.”

“Or whats?” Amanda asked.

“The helots were the — no, still are — the slaves of the Spartans, though the status has probably changed by now, from outright slavery to something closer to serfdom. My point is that I am a free citizen, not a helot. I did not yell fire in a crowded theater, so I acted completely within my rights. I, at least, intend to remain a free citizen, and I expect my rights to be respected.”

“We take your point,” Jane Carruthers said soothingly.

“Yes, we do,” agreed Captain Floden. At least, he seemed to be agreeing, until he continued. “But we are in a ship at sea, under what must be considered emergency conditions.”

“First of all, Captain, I don’t concede that we are in a state of emergency. The word is quite specific. It refers to an immediate threat, not to a generally dangerous situation. But even if we were, absent me shouting fire in that crowded theater or somehow interfering with the crew delivering instructions to other passengers, you would still have no right to restrict my speech.”

Congressman Wiley held up a hand, like a student asking for attention. When Marie looked at him, he said, “I’m convinced, Professor. You had a perfect right to speak, whether it was wise or not. But having established that, what were you trying to accomplish?”

“Two things, Congressman Wiley,” Marie said. “First, I was proving my claims, and all our claims at the same time. An event that happened in our history hadn’t yet happened in this one, and I could tell them about it. If it happens as I said it would, or even if it just starts to happen as I said it would, if for instance Peithon and Arrhidaeus are forced to resign, we have proved that we know at least the outline of their future. Second, if my warning does affect the situation, if, for instance, having gotten word of Antipater’s trick, Eurydice manages to foil it, we will know that we can change history.

“But there was another reason. Antipater was a disaster as regent, and the generals, the successors to Alexander, were something of a disaster for the world. Almost any change would be a change for the better. There is a young woman with a mentally-challenged husband, and another with a two year old — or perhaps three by now — who, in the flow of time, would all die by murder. I was unwilling to sit by and let that happen without trying to change it.”

Amanda looked around the room. There were considering expressions on several of the faces.

Captain Floden gave a sharp nod. “I am Norwegian, but we also have those rights and I would be no happier to see them disappear than you would. We will be a free people, be assured of that. That still leaves two major questions. First, what are our plans? Second, how will we determine them? Congressman, I would hear your thoughts on the matter.”

“Elections will have to be held. An emergency committee could be established on an interim basis, but elections will have to be held as soon as we can manage. After that, it will be up to the elected body to determine policy.”

“I am leery of a majority trying to vote itself a free lunch,” Floden said. “I will not allow the expropriation of the Queen of the Sea by the passengers.”

And they got down to business. The meeting went on for hours and not much was actually settled. What was established were a set of basic principles under which they would build their government.

First, it was agreed that control of the Queen of the Sea would remain with the captain and crew of the Queen and control of the Reliance would remain with the captain and crew of the Reliance. However, it was also agreed, at least in principle, that all the transportees had a legitimate interest in both ships and their cargos. That, at the very least, the passengers could not be put off the ship without their consent.

 

Alexander Inheritance – Snippet 16

Alexander Inheritance – Snippet 16

* * *

At that moment, Al Wiley was having his own problems. “What can I do for you, Reverend Hewell?”

“We have to go to Judea. The Second Temple still stands and Jesus is coming. We must clear the way for him. Cleanse the temple and protect Judea from the Romans.”

“Reverend, that’s more than three hundred years from now. We are facing more urgent concerns.”

“You don’t understand, Congressman. Being a Mormon and all. It’s why God sent us here. We are to prepare Judea for the coming Christ.”

Al kept his politician’s smile, but it wasn’t easy. He tossed Amanda a look. Amanda shrugged at him behind Mr. Hewell’s back and Al knew what she meant. You had to take support where it was offered in politics. “I will take your points to the captain and speak for them. But right now, it’s not up to you, or me, or any of the passengers. It’s up to the captain. We are aboard a ship at sea, and the law is clear about that. Until some form of civil government is established, we won’t have a lot of say in what goes on.”

“That’s not right, Congressman. We’re Americans. I can’t abide dictatorships.”

“That’s a harsh way of putting it, Mr. Hewell, though I take your meaning. Still, any sort of change in government would need to be done civilly, through the electoral process.”

Once Hewell was gone, Amanda ushered in the next complainant. This one wanted the ship to go back out to sea and avoid contaminating the local culture with modernity. Al found he had more sympathy for Mr. Hewell. But he was polite, promised to bring the matter up with the captain, and repeated the spiel about it not being their choice until some form of civilian government was established.

“Boss,” Amanda said, “we’re pushing pretty close to mutiny.”

“I know, Amanda. But if it turns out to be a choice between mutiny and a permanent dictatorship, I’ll risk the mutiny.” Al threw up his hands in frustration. “Do you think I like this? I’d rather be back in Washington dealing with the Democrats, for the Lord’s sake.”

“I think Captain Floden has done a pretty good job, sir,” Amanda said.

“Captain Floden hasn’t yet made a decision or formed a plan,” Al said. “He’s just reacting. Marie Easley says the best place to go for food is Alexandria, so we go to Alexandria. Now we are resupplying. Fine, good enough, exactly what a pseudo-military bureaucrat ought to be doing. But Floden isn’t the man to set policy.”

“There really hasn’t been a lot of cause for Captain Floden to make long-term policy decisions. It’s only been a few days and we’ve had enough on our plate just dealing with the emergencies.”

“I know you’re right,” Al admitted. “And it may be that we got off on the wrong foot, but I just don’t trust his judgment.”

* * *

Eleanor Kinney was worrying over the same issue, but from a different angle. “We need something to sell, Professor.”

Marie Easley looked up from her computer screen. “Excuse me? I thought we had established a list of goods and services.”

“We did, and aside from the issues of space, it’s working for now. But this isn’t a cargo ship. It’s a cruise ship. It’s designed to carry people, and people are light cargo.”

“Light cargo? A human is mostly water. We aren’t that light.”

“We are when you figure one human in an eight by twelve by fourteen foot space, not to mention all the public spaces. We’re lighter than a cargo of feathers and a whole lot lighter than a cargo of grain. That’s why cruise ships are so much taller than cargo ships.”

Marie nodded. “Yes. I should have realized. Also the electricity, the L E D lights that have a very long life span, the plumbing and computers. Putting this ship to work as a cargo hauler would be a waste…”

Professor Easley trailed off and Eleanor was tempted to ask her what she was thinking. But she waited.

“A university,” Marie said. “Most especially a technical school that will have required courses in political philosophy. If they want to study electronics, fine. But they must also study the Declaration of Independence and the Bill of Rights. The thirteenth amendment and the reason for it.”

By now Eleanor had seen the slaves in Alexandria and the welts on backs and arms, the scars on faces and feet. Yes. The thirteenth amendment abolishing slavery was something these people needed to learn about.

It’s something they need shoved down their throats. Eleanor was shocked at how violent that thought was. There was a rage building in her that she hadn’t realized was there. A little Eleanor Kinney standing up next to Tony Curtis and shouting “I am Spartacus!” along with all the other slaves.

All of a sudden, she was worried. Because as strongly as she felt about it, she knew that they couldn’t fight the Civil War with five thousand people, most of them old farts on vacation. Al Wiley said he understood that, but she didn’t trust his judgment, not on this.

Triparadisus

September 21

“I don’t trust his judgment,” Roxane said looking to the north, seeing in her mind’s eye the armies that were still days away. Antipater was closest but Antigonus was marching his army to Triparadisus too. She turned to her guard commander, Kleitos. “With Eurydice playing her games, Antigonus will push too hard out of anger and outrage. Ptolemy might have us killed for political reasons, but Antipater is likely to do it just because he’s offended or impatient.”

“Antipater isn’t any worse than Perdiccas,” Kleitos said. “He was going to marry Cleopatra and reach for the crown and you know it.”

“Maybe. But Cleopatra is thirty-six and if she isn’t past her child-bearing years, she will be soon enough. Besides, Perdiccas was made regent by Alexander and the partition at Babylon. That’s why Eumenes was loyal to him. The rest of the generals are vultures.”

“I know you like the Greek, but the Macedonians won’t follow him. I know. I’m a Macedonian.”

“And yet you are loyal to me, and my guard as much as my jailor, Kleitos.”

“I’m a man under orders, Roxane, and little Alexander is his father’s son. I owe him my loyalty, at least what loyalty I have left after all these years a soldier.”

Roxane laughed at that. Kleitos was a cynical man, and she knew that if the soldier was ordered to he would kill her and even little Alexander. But, still, a sort of affection had grown up between them. He was a nice man in his cynical way, even if he was a killer. Every man she had known in her life had been a killer, at least potentially. And most of them had been in fact. That was the world she lived in and the only one she knew. But she knew that world well. She knew how to play the game and how to hide. That was why she was worried now. Ptolemy had abandoned any thoughts of taking Alexander’s place. Roxane was confident of that, even though he had stolen Alexander’s body. Otherwise he wouldn’t have passed on the regency. With him gone, the greatest power among the generals was Antigonus One-eye or perhaps Seleucus. Before Eurydice’s machinations, Roxane would have thought that Peithon might have been the strongest, but the little minx had managed to force him and Arrhidaeus to resign as commanders of the army, leaving Seleucus as much in charge as anyone was.

Antipater was old and not that strong, but he might emerge as a candidate who was acceptable to the rest, since Peithon was so recently embarrassed by Eurydice. He was the likely choice, more for his weakness than for his strength. That was why Eurydice had been able to stop Ptolemy’s chosen surrogates.

Antipater was better than his son, Cassander, but he hated Eumenes because he was a Greek and didn’t like Roxane because she wasn’t a Macedonian. What Roxane was afraid of was that Antigonus might have her killed in a fit of rage before he realized it was a bad move politically. That was what had happened to Perdiccas when he had his brother murder Eurydice’s mother.

But it didn’t matter. She knew Kleitos. She even liked Kleitos. But Kleitos would kill her before he let her escape. Besides, where would she run to? That had always been the true stopping point of her thoughts in the past. No place to go, even if she did get away. But now there was a possibility. That great ship. But she knew almost nothing about it, only that it existed. Even its existence had freed her thoughts, though. What if the great ship did mean safety? What if it was peopled by an army of allies? What if it was Alexander coming back from the grave? Ptolemy had taken Alexander’s body to Egypt, after all.

 

Alexander Inheritance – Snippet 15

Alexander Inheritance – Snippet 15

“I’ve heard it. It sounds a little like Latin, but it’s hard to tell. Perhaps I should have said ‘it speaks no other civilized tongue.’ The point I was trying to make is that if we can get one of their magic slates, we can use it to learn their language.”

“Will the slates work for us?” Ptolemy asked.

“I asked about that, and if I understood the answer, they will for a time, if we are given the spell to unlock them. But they run out of life force and must be fed their vibrant force. They call it ‘e-lek-trik,’ I think, and it is made of the same stuff as lightning.”

Dinocrates, Crates and Thaïs all nodded in support. Some of the Greek philosophers had experimented with the same power. No one in the room knew the distinctions involved. The experiments they had read about had been with static electricity, and to a lesser extent with bioelectrical sources, like the electric eel. Direct current and alternating current would be new to them, but not completely unfamiliar.

“Then we should see about gaining one or more of the magic slates and some means of providing them with the ‘e-lek-trik,’ you mentioned,” Ptolemy told Atum, “and learn how they are fed. I hope it can be done like the experiments discussed in works, and doesn’t require sacrifices to their gods.

“What can you tell me about that other ship that arrived this morning?”

“I was on the Queen when it arrived,” Atum said. “It is a fuel ship, loaded with the refined naphtha they use to power the larger ship. That’s all I know, but I got the impression that Dag was less than pleased with the crew of the Reliance for some reason. He didn’t say why, and I didn’t want to ask.”

“Yet another reason we need one of those magic slates.”

“It won’t be cheap, Satrap. I bought one of their ‘flashlights,’ and it cost a thousand pounds of wheat. The ‘L-E-D flashlight’ is a relatively simple device, so Dag explained to me, and I saw the same thing in their gift shop.”

Ptolemy’s expression went dark, and Atum lost any urge to smile in response. “I will send messages to Memphis for more grain and foodstuffs,” Ptolemy said. “And I don’t doubt that I can handle the expenses. But I don’t like these merchants trying to bargain with me in my own harbor.” The satrap of Egypt grimaced, then continued. “In the meantime, get me a slate.”

* * *

Gorgias looked at Ptolemy as the others left the audience chamber. “It can be done, Satrap. I have been aboard the ship and seen both the strengths and weaknesses of it.”

“And what are they?”

“The great strength is simply the size of the thing. That, you can see from here. It would be a climb and we would take losses making it. The ship is like a mountain fortress.”

“And the weaknesses?”

“The people on board that ship are sheep for the shearing. Many of them are old, and all of them are fat. If there are two hundred soldiers among the five thousand people on that ship, I’ll eat the excess. That is the largest single weakness, but almost as great is the lack of weapons. They wear on their belts a device that is apparently something like a slingshot that throws a small oblong pellet. I doubt they would stand up against bows, even if they had a lot of them. And they don’t. They have twenty, perhaps twice that. I didn’t want to seem too curious, but they are, at the core, unarmed oldsters off on a jaunt.”

“What would be the best way to take the ship?”

“Subversion of the crew, I would think.” Gorgias considered. The crew were basically servants, though not slaves. Certainly not war captives. They were paid for their work and under normal circumstances could leave their service. But these weren’t normal circumstances, and Gorgias was convinced that the laws that held them in check had been left behind in that place or time they came from. Gorgias wasn’t convinced it was truly the future, though he was starting to think it might be. He brought himself back to the question. “Failing that, or perhaps in coordination with it, an attack by galleys, ropes and ladders thrown up to the ports to get our troops in. Once we are in, there won’t be much to it. But we will lose men getting in, possibly a lot of men.”

Ptolemy nodded, and then said, “Make your preparations, but quietly. And take no overt action until I tell you to.” There was a half-smile on the satrap’s face. “Such a ship is rulership of the Mediterranean Sea and all the lands surrounding it. If Alexander had had such a ship, he would have indeed ruled the world. And if Perdiccas owned it, I would be dead now. At the very least, we cannot allow it to fall to Antigonus or Seleucus. Attalus would be almost as bad. Hades, even old Antipater would be dangerous with such a weapon. If for no other reason than that Cassander might inherit it when the old man dies. Even Cassander would be brave from aboard such a ship.”

“What about Eumenes?”

“No. And not because he’s a Greek. He’s a good general and Alexander trusted him with reason. No, we are safe from…” Ptolemy stopped. “No. You’re right, Gorgias. Eumenes would be the greatest danger of all. Not because of his ambition, but because of his honor. He would try to impose Alexander’s empire on us all, out of loyalty to the Argead royal house. He would put demented Philip and baby Alexander on my throne.” Ptolemy shook his head. “No, we can’t allow that ship to run free.”

Queen of the Sea, Alexandria Harbor

September 21

“This is so cool,” fifteen-year-old Latisha Jones told her brother as they filed into the theater. The entertainment staff had decided to put on Egyptian Karaoke Night in the Queen Elizabeth Theatre. So far, all The Event that brought them here had done was extend their vacation. At least that’s what Latisha was telling herself just as hard as she could. It wasn’t that she was unaware of the danger they were all in, and the fact that they might never get home again. But she didn’t want to face it, not yet. Latisha was in denial, and had every intention of staying there till they got home.

Jason Jones tried to play along. Two years younger than his big sister, he was finding denial harder to achieve. Dad was a high school principal and this was the annual divorced-father-family-vacation. Since The Event, Dad had been spending almost all his time on the shipnet. He was trying to figure out what had happened and what they could do about it. Mom was back at home and Jason was wondering if he would ever see her again.

They filed into the theater, found their seats, and the lights came up to a black-haired guy in a campy Egyptian headdress and a skimpy costume.

“Under the circumstances we have decided that what is needed is a clear and exact description of Egypt at this time,” said the guy. Then he went into a lip-syncing of Steve Martin’s “King Tut.”

After King Tut came a woman singing “Cleopatra, Queen of Denial” and then a group of women doing “Walk Like an Egyptian.”

Overall, Jason didn’t think it was particularly funny, but Latisha seemed to be having a blast.

* * *

“How are the passengers reacting, Jane?” Lars Floden asked the hotel manager.

“Restive, Lars. The ship has a lot of entertainment venues, but they are not enough for everyone. It’s planned that much of the entertainment on these cruises will be shore excursions.”

“We can’t risk that sort of thing yet. I’m not even comfortable with the crew’s shore leave under Atum’s watchful eye. A bunch of Americans with, for the most part, very little in the way of experience with other cultures? That would be begging for incidents.”

“I’m not arguing, Captain. But we are going to have to come up with some sort of solution. The Queen is a big ship, but it’s not big enough for this many people to live on permanently. So the restiveness is only going to get worse. Right now, the main thing preventing riots is that everyone is terrified and intent on sticking together. Once they calm down a little, they are going to start demanding things.”

“They started that within minutes of the –”

“No, they didn’t. Sure, there were the ‘take us home,’ ‘you have to undo this’ types, but mostly people have stayed pretty calm. That’s going to change as it sinks in that they aren’t about to be beheaded by a bunch of barbarian Greeks, and they’ll start to wonder what they are going to do for the rest of their lives. This isn’t a stable situation, and I don’t see any way of making it into one.”

Lars nodded. He knew Jane was right. He just didn’t have a good answer. He had an answer: dump the passengers. That, at least, would work. But he couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t. He had a responsibility for everyone on board. In a way, he had even more of a responsibility to the passengers than to the crew. This needed a political solution and Lars wasn’t a politician.

However, Lars did have a politician on hand. As much as he didn’t care for Al Wiley and distrusted his judgment, he was going to have to call on his skills.

 

Alexander Inheritance – Snippet 14

Alexander Inheritance – Snippet 14

Chapter 5

Triparadisus

September 20

Eurydice sat on the couch, leaning against one arm and listened to the soldier read out the report from the signal fires. She knew that someone had gotten the size wrong. There was no way a ship could be that big. It wasn’t possible. Philip, though, was mumbling and Eurydice slid over to listen. He was muttering numbers as he often did. Philip wasn’t stupid, whatever the others thought. He just thought differently. He didn’t understand the value of a drachma and he never looked at people directly, but he read everything he could get his hands on and was constantly doing calculations. It was more than simple counting, what Philip did. He understood the world through numbers, shapes and vectors. So she listened carefully and began to wonder. Philip seemed to think it was at least possible.

Once that was out of the way, Eurydice got up and moved over to Roxane, who was sitting in state across the room. Philip would be busy with his calculations for a time. “What do you think?”

Roxane sniffed dismissively and Eurydice wanted to slap the spoiled bitch, but managed to restrain herself. She waited, and after a moment Roxane said, “With the army in the state it’s in, it could mean anything. Remember, Antipater is on his way, and will be arriving in no more than a week.”

“I’ll deal with the old man,” Eurydice said.

Roxane looked back at her. “Don’t underestimate him. Your hold on the army is weak, and Antipater has the rank. These are soldiers, Eurydice. Unpaid and angry, but soldiers. They are conditioned to respect rank.”

“They killed Perdiccas,” Eurydice insisted.

“No. Peithon and Arrhidaeus killed Perdiccas, and the army let it stand. And that only after the idiot had lost a third of the army trying to march them across the Nile.”

Eurydice didn’t like Roxane, but had to admit that the woman was astute. She understood politics, even if she lacked the guts of a Macedonian. Now Eurydice considered what that would mean for herself. Roxane was probably right about the reverence that Antipater was held in by the common soldiers, especially since they hadn’t had to deal with the old man for decades. Antipater wasn’t fond of Eurydice, and Eurydice didn’t trust him. She didn’t trust any of them. But old man Antipater despised anything that wasn’t Macedonian, and despised women even more than he did Greeks. Until now, Eurydice had been planning to continue her bid for the regency, or at least a real place on a regency council. But with Antipater running things, that seemed a lot less likely to succeed. She would need to push the sub-commanders so that the old man didn’t get to use his rank. “Do you want to be left in Antipater’s hands?”

“Do you think we have a choice?” Roxane hissed at her, her eyes slitted. “Disabuse yourself of the notion that we are queens, little girl. We are no more than bargaining chips in the game of power that the generals play now.”

“Is that what you want?” Eurydice hissed back. “To be a playing piece?”

“It’s –” Roxane started in what was almost a shout and suddenly everyone in the room was looking at them. Roxane looked back and they looked away, then she continued much more quietly. “It’s not a matter of what we want or don’t want. It’s a matter of what is.”

“But the ship,” Eurydice insisted. “It changes things, doesn’t it?”

“Maybe. If it’s real, and not some plot. At this point, how it changes things is anyone’s guess.”

Eurydice turned away from Alexander’s beauty and went back to Philip. The woman’s perfume was giving her a headache.

Reliance, Alexandria Harbor

6:23 AM, September 21

Joe Kugan saw the bulk of the Queen of the Sea rise out of the horizon with a mixture of relief and resentment. He’d had plenty of time to think as he made his slow way across the Mediterranean Sea. Everything was left back in the future. His wife, his sons, the company…everything. Meanwhile, he and his crew had been left behind by the Queen as she rushed off to Alexandria. They could have gone slower. They could have waited, but they didn’t. Well, fine. If they were going to be that way, so was he. The Reliance was his ship, and the fuel oil on her was his fuel oil. His and his crew’s.

“Radio message, Captain,” Michael Kimball said. “They want us to pull up on the starboard side of the Queen and prepare for fuel transfer.”

“We’ll go ahead and pull up to the side, but not a drop of our fuel oil is going to leave the barge till I have a few things settled with Captain Queeg over there.”

“Fine by me, Captain,” Michael said with a grin.

* * *

“The Reliance confirms that she will pull up alongside, but says that refueling will have to wait until a price and a medium of exchange are established.”

“Fine.” Lars Floden rubbed his eyes. He had been in meetings almost nonstop since they reached Alexandria. Meetings with the cooks and the engineering staff as they tried to come up with ways of separating the wheat from the chaff and grinding the wheat into flour suitable for making bread. Fortunately, there was yeast in the bakery. By using some of that, they had established a good colony of twenty-first century yeast, which they might be able to sell to the locals because clearly the Queen’s bakery turned out better bread than the locals. Then there were the meats, which often had tapeworms and other parasites. For right now, that was being handled by cooking everything well done. The vegetables were of indifferent quality and it was all expensive.

In spite of the amount of the provisioning problems Jane handled, a load of it had made its way to the captain’s desk because people didn’t like the answers Jane gave them. “Set up an appointment with Captain Kugan and the staff captain.” Lars felt himself smile. “And include Congressman Wiley. If he wants to be involved so much, let him tell Joe Kugan that the oil in Barge 14 is owned by all the passengers in common.”

“Yes, sir.” Doug smiled and pulled up the captain’s schedule. It was — unsurprisingly — full. It would be the next afternoon before the captain, staff captain, and Congressman Wiley would all be free at the same time.

Royal Lounge, Queen of the Sea

September 21

“Not at all, Captain Kugan. I agree completely. You and your crew own the Reliance and the fuel on board her as well.” Al Wiley smiled generally around the room and even snorted a laugh at the captain’s expression. “You always knew I was a Republican, Captain Floden, not a communist. I am simply concerned that all the, er, found wealth be shared out in a reasonably equitable manner. The people on the Reliance own the Reliance. The people on the Queen of the Sea own the Queen of the Sea.”

By now Kugan was looking smug, Floden was looking pissed, and Dahl was looking ready to chew nails and spit tacks. Which was pretty much what Al had been going for in all cases. “You and your crew have a valuable ship there, Captain Kugan, and a valuable cargo. However, it’s a very limited cargo too.”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t have machine shops on the Reliance. You can’t fix anything that can’t be fixed by hand. You don’t have food, water or the means to get any of those things on your own. Perhaps most important of all, you don’t have someone who can speak to the locals to allow you to negotiate with them directly. And even if you could, what makes you think they would negotiate in good faith?”

Royal Palace, Alexandria

September 21

“We need to learn their language,” Dinocrates said. “I don’t like the idea of everything we say going through that woman. There’s something odd about her. For one thing, I’m sure she’s much older than she looks.”

Atum suppressed a grin when Ptolemy looked first at his hetaera, Thaïs, then back at Dinocrates.

“There are options, Philos Dinocrates,” Atum said. Philos was a court title roughly on a par with the later “count,” and had been given to Dinocrates by Alexander when he was given the job of overseeing the construction of Alexandria. Ptolemy reaffirmed the title when he was made satrap of Egypt by Perdiccas at Babylon, just after Alexander’s death.

“What alternatives?” asked Ptolemy.

Atum bowed. “They have a sort of magic slate.” He waved to Dinocrates and Crates, as well as Lateef. “We’ve all seen them.” Atum was referring to the e-pads and phones with their gorilla glass fronts. Something that you really had to see to believe. “Please withhold your judgment on our sanity until you have had a chance to see them. In any case, there is a demon or ghost they call a program that can be placed in the slates, and it can translate, if not well. Its Greek is barely understandable and it speaks no other tongue known in this time.”

“I thought they knew Egyptian in that future,” said Thaïs.

“So, apparently, did they,” Lateef said. “The language of my home has changed even more in the intervening centuries than Greek has. What about Latin, Atum? Didn’t Marie say something about the translation ghost having Latin?”

 

Alexander Inheritance – Snippet 13

Alexander Inheritance – Snippet 13

“I’ll have to talk to the captain, but I think that Panos here may be the only Greek speaker we have in the crew.”

“I’ll make arrangements, and we can add the costs to my shipboard account.”

Alexandria Royal Compound

September 19

Gorgias of Thrace looked out at the harbor and measured with a stick. It could be done. Not against a capable foe. Not against a Persian or even an Egyptian. But rumor had it that these were philosophers, mewling infants. Still, he was just drawing plans in the air, not doing anything real, not yet. But the prize…a ship like that, owned by real men, could rule the world. Gorgias was loyal to Ptolemy, but with a ship like that he could be king of Macedonia, Persia, even India or Carthage.

“Menes, what do you think?”

“It’s a fool’s quest, General. I’d rather go over the walls of Babylon by myself.”

“You don’t believe the rumors then?”

“That they are a bunch of western barbarians from the future?” Menes shrugged. “I don’t know. But I don’t believe that they can’t fight. No one who can build something like that can’t fight. Rather, no one who owns a ship like that can’t fight. If they couldn’t, someone else would have taken it from them by now.”

“You lack imagination, Menes,” Gorgias said. “It could be done.”

Menes shook his head at the general’s back and looked out at the ship.

Queen of the Sea, Alexandria Harbor

September 20

“Atum told me that Ptolemy is at Memphis?” Marie asked the locals. They were back in the Royal Lounge and taking a break from negotiations on resupply. Dag was present because his knowledge of environmental systems was turning out to be useful in terms of handling the unprocessed products of the environment — all the fungus and poisons and stuff that was in unprocessed fruits, grains and meats. Eleanor Kinney was in the room. She had done most of the negotiating on price and, as a demonstration, had arranged to have fresh loaves of brown bread served. Bread made from the local wheat and ship’s yeast. This bread didn’t have the ground rock from the milling in it, and it tasted a lot better.

The locals included Atum and Lateef, Dinocrates, Crates and two other merchants, along with Gorgias of Thrace, who was apparently in charge of the garrison of Alexandria. Marie listened to the Macedonian Greek pronunciation of the general’s name and it sounded like Gorgeous, which she knew was an ancestor of the name George, which brought to mind the professional wrestler called Gorgeous George. And if ever she’d seen a man who looked less like the iconic wrestler, she couldn’t remember it. This man had lank black hair and a heavy beard, a scar down one cheek and a nose that had been broken several times. He was also missing at least a couple of teeth and the ones he had were pretty ground down, and brown.

Dinocrates and Gorgeous George looked at Atum, who shrugged.

Then Gorgeous George nodded. “Yes. The battle with Perdiccas was over a month ago and things are getting back to normal in Memphis. We haven’t gotten word from Satrap Ptolemy, but I would guess he will be coming this way. As to the others, by now Alexander’s generals will be heading for the meeting at Triparadisus. From what we hear, the troops aren’t happy with Peithon and Arrhidaeus.”

Dinocrates smiled, then said, “Peithon and Arrhidaeus are apparently having difficulty holding the army together.”

“And such troubles couldn’t happen to a more deserving pair,” Gorgeous George said. “Opportunists, the both of them, and disloyal as well. We got word a day before you arrived that Antipater was expected there soon.”

“I wonder how they will react to news of us when it eventually reaches them,” Dag said.

Dinocrates seemed confused, then offended, and said, “They will know of your arrival by tomorrow night. The signal fires will tell them. We even know how to read and write.”

“I am truly sorry if I gave offence, sir,” Dag said and Marie translated. Then she added, “I’m sorry, Dag. I should have edited that or just explained, myself. They had an extensive network of signal fires and pony express to get messages across the empire quickly. I knew that, but I was so distracted by what General Gorgias just said that it didn’t really register. Within a week, two at the outside, they will know we have arrived, everywhere from Athens to the Persian Gulf.”

“What did he say that distracted you?”

“Antipater isn’t at Triparadisus yet.”

Dag shook his head in confusion. “So?”

Marie ignored Dag’s question to ask one of her own in Macedonian Greek. “Have Peithon and Arrhidaeus been forced to resign?”

“What? They will be forced to resign?” Dinocrates seemed shocked.

But Gorgeous George was wearing an expression of surmise. “No, not yet. When did that happen?”

“I don’t know, neither in our calendar or yours. Shortly before Antipater got to Triparadisus, the tensions between Eurydice and those two got so intense that they were forced to resign as regents and send messages to Antipater to hurry up. Then, when…”

Marie stopped speaking. She had to think. She could change history now, assuming the timing was right. The question was: should she?

Eurydice might well have Roxane and Alexander IV murdered if she got solid control of the army that had mutinied and killed Perdiccas. It wouldn’t be out of character for any of the players in this history to order or commit murder. Most historians agreed that Roxane had had Alexander’s other wives murdered, or at least had been involved.

On the other hand, Marie could be sure from her study of this time that if Cassander, Antipater’s son, got his hands on them, both queens and both kings would end up dead. And pretty horribly dead, at least in the case of Eurydice, although it was Alexander the Great’s mother Olympias who had murdered Eurydice and Philip in the timeline Marie had come from.

But Cassander was a snake. Even Antipater so despised his son Cassander that he gave the power to others instead of Cassander, and Antipater was no great prize either. Nor Antigonus One-eye. It might turn out that Eurydice and Roxane wouldn’t do any better. But could they do any worse?

Marie looked at the locals and realized that she, by herself, couldn’t change history. It would take the signal fires. “Here is our best understanding of what happened in my history about this time. As Antipater approached, Peithon and Arrhidaeus were forced to resign. Antipater came into the camp and was, in turn, captured by the troops loyal to Eurydice and held separate from his army.”

Dinocrates gave Marie a look, and Marie almost laughed. “Granted, that army probably wasn’t loyal to anyone. Say rather, the troops who had listened to Eurydice — or been bribed by Attalus — got hold of Antipater. That situation held for a while, I don’t know how long. Then Antigonus One-eye arrived, camped his army with Antipater’s across the river from the — call them Eurydice’s army — and Antigonus put on his fancy armor and fooled them. He crossed the bridge with just a few select cavalrymen, and gave a long rambling speech in support of Antipater, watching for the guards on Antipater to grow distracted. He was supported in his speech by Seleucus, who got the better part of the eastern empire for his bribe. Antigonus then rescued Antipater and somehow got him back to his side of the river and escaped himself. In exchange, Antigonus got possession of the kings and queens, and got assigned to go hunt down Eumenes. Which took him years, because Eumenes turned out to be a better general than anyone thought. I don’t know how detailed your codes are for the signal fires, but if you can get a message to Eurydice with that information, it might make all the difference.”

Gorgeous George was looking at her with disbelief clear on his face. Dinocrates pointed at one of the lights and the general’s eyes followed his pointing finger. Then he looked back at Marie and nodded.

“What’s going on?” Dag asked.

Marie explained. “We’re in a position to affect the outcome of the next battle in the succession wars.”

“Which adds a certain urgency to my question,” Dag said. “How will the generals react to the news of our arrival? And when will they learn of it?”

Marie had given those people who were interested a quick rundown of the wars of the Diadochi, the generals, and clearly Dag had been looking stuff up on his own. Marie tried to explain what was going on.

“You should have talked to the captain before you said anything, Professor Easley,” Dag said. Eleanor Kinney was looking daggers at Marie too.

“Does Captain Floden have a doctorate in ancient history that I’m unaware of?” Marie asked.

“He’s the captain,” Dag insisted.

“His authority on board this ship is based on the law from two thousand and more years in the future, and his expertise. He knows how to make the ship go where we need it to go. I would never dream of questioning his decisions on things like when to drop anchor or how many points to port we should turn. But he is not an expert on this time. I am! This is a political decision, and even in the twenty-first century his authority would not extend to that.”

“I’m going to have to report this,” Dag said.

“Go right ahead, young man. It won’t bother me at all.” Marie smiled, then turned back to the locals while Dag made his phone call.

“General Gorgias, what do you plan on doing with the information that I gave you?”

“Professor, is it?” he asked and Marie nodded. “The answer is, I don’t know. On a personal basis, I respect Antigonus One-eye as a brave commander. And as little use as I have for Peithon and Arrhidaeus, I have to respect that Antipater is the ranking officer in the Macedonian army. I think I will wait until Ptolemy gets here.”

Marie noticed a look between Crates and Atum, but didn’t ask about it. And Gorgeous George was still talking. “I was surprised to hear that the future thought so well of Alexander’s scribe. He’s won some battles, but I assumed it was mostly luck. He’s not general material.”

“History is quite favorably inclined to Eumenes,” Marie said.

“History written by Greeks. Eumenes is a bookkeeper and the son of a wagoneer,” Gorgeous George said, and both Crates and Atum rolled their eyes.

House of Atum Edfu

September 20

“Who can you contact?” Crates asked.

“That’s less the issue than what to say. I have friends among the merchants and an army is always in need of food.”

“Then Attalus, I think. He’s the one with the money, so he will be in touch with the merchants,” Crates said.

“Fine. I will send a message to a merchant I know, and have him talk to Attalus. But what should we say? I don’t like Antipater, and I am not all that enamored of One-eye either. But do we really want to put Perdiccas’ family back in power?”

“No, but that’s not what I think will happen.”

Atum looked at Lateef, then back to Crates. “What do you think will happen then?

“I think that it’s all going to come apart, no matter what we do. That being the case, I think we should encourage it to come apart quickly so that Egypt doesn’t get hit by the flailing parts of Alexander’s empire again.”

“So what message? Remember we are limited by the signal codes and the time it will take.”

The signal fire network that used bronze mirrors in the daylight hours was owned by Alexander’s empire and maintained in each province by the satrap of that province. So the messages of the government would go first, but after that the private merchants could use it by bribing the men manning the signal fires. All of which meant that if they wanted to send a message, they could, but it couldn’t be too long, and there was a good chance that a copy of anything they sent would be sold to anyone willing to buy it. The merchants were used to the system, so they used codes. Unfortunately, the codes weren’t robust and focused on matters of business, so sending something political would be more challenging.

Atum tried to explain. “It would be easy enough for me to tell Cleisthenes that a shipment of wheat flour would be delayed or arrive early, but telling them that Antigonus is going to steal Antipater away from the army with the help of Seleucus…that’s going to be harder. Even with the signals, it will be two days before today’s message gets there.”

“I know,” Crates agreed. “The message we sent when the ship arrived will probably be received in Triparadisus about now.”

 

Alexander Inheritance – Snippet 12

Alexander Inheritance – Snippet 12

Chapter 4

Royal Lounge, Queen of the Sea

September 19

Al Wiley had barely gotten invited to this little dinner in the Royal Lounge.

Every ship that belonged to Royal Cruise Lines had a Royal Lounge, and they were always reserved for private parties. This one was one deck up from the pool deck, and you could see the swimmers from the windows. The windows were massive picture windows that went from floor to ceiling. At the moment, they were transparent but Al knew that they could be opaqued with the flip of a switch. There was a well-stocked bar next to the main doors and both a large conference table and a set of smaller tables where people could eat, drink or chat. The chairs were white naugahyde, but of good quality. The tables were plastic, but heavy and colored to resemble teak or other dark woods.

Al was miffed about the trouble he’d had getting this invitation. The captain was being unreasonable.

But he pulled himself up short. This situation was upsetting him more than he wanted to admit. The captain was being the captain. And, technically, at least until things got a bit more organized, the captain had a point. He was the one with a legal obligation to care for the passengers and crew. Al stood up as the locals in linen robes came sauntering into the room like a bunch of tribal chieftains decked out in native attire. Which, Al guessed, was what they were.

They were escorted by one of the ship’s officers…he thought it was Dan, no, something foreign…Dag, that was it. Right there on his nametag, Dag Jakobsen.

The guests were shown to seats and Captain Floden introduced everyone. Dinocrates of Rhodes was tall, a dignified looking man, going a bit gray at the temples and around the beard. Crates was shorter, balding, with bad teeth. Al had seen the Egyptian, Atum, before, though he hadn’t been introduced. The woman, Lateef, was apparently Atum’s wife and Al wasn’t sure why she was here.

The captain finished the introductions, and Marie Easley translated. At every name, the Greeks nodded their understanding till they got to Al. He listened carefully, but couldn’t follow. Then she said, “tribune.”

“What’s the problem, Professor Easley?” Al asked.

“They don’t have an equivalent title to congressman. The closest I was able to come was the Latin ‘tribune.'”

Al nodded. It made sense. But it also brought some potential problems forward in his mind. Al was a Republican, and that wasn’t just his party. He believed in representative government, not the right of kings. And these people, even the Romans, didn’t get that. Not in the modern sense, anyway. That could produce errors in judgment among them, but there was a more insidious danger if they were stuck here permanently. Al had no desire to live in a world where the citizenry were lorded over by the kings and captains of antiquity.

For the rest of the meeting, while Al listened and even participated, that thought was bouncing around his mind. They might be stuck here, not just for a time, but forever.

They talked about resupply. They talked about fuel and its availability. They talked about taxes and duties. And it was mentioned that signal fires had been used to transmit word of their arrival to Memphis and Ptolemy. The satrap of Egypt would know that they were here by now.

Then Dinocrates of Rhodes asked a question, and Marie translated. “Who owns the ship?”

“Royal Cruise Li — ” Captain Floden started to say, but Al interrupted.

“The people on board!”

“Congressman!” Captain Floden said.

Al said, “Wait, Captain, please. And listen. This is vital and it will affect all our dealings with these people. If the ship is owned by a company that will not exist for two thousand years, then it’s owned by no one, and is open to seizure. It’s in Egyptian territorial waters and, absent an owner, it is the property of the government of Egypt. Ptolemy. Don’t give them that opening.”

“He’s right,” Marie Easley said. “Captain, we can’t leave it the property of a future company licensed by a nation that itself doesn’t exist yet.”

“That doesn’t mean that it has become the property of everyone on board equally,” Captain Floden said. Then his lips twitched in a sort of half smile. “I didn’t expect such a communistic viewpoint coming from a Republican congressman.”

Al felt a grin twitching his own lips and, without hesitation, let it show. “We aren’t insane, whatever the liberal media has told you, Captain. And I didn’t say it was equally owned by everyone, but who owns how much and how it’s shared out is something for us to decide, not the locals.”

Captain Floden nodded. Professor Easley spoke in Greek, was questioned, and then spoke again.

She turned to them. “Well, now they understand why Congressman Wiley is here. Or at least they think they do. He is here as a representative of the owners of the ship.”

“That’s not too far off,” Al said.

“With all due respect, Congressman,” said Staff Captain Dahl, “you represent your district in Utah, not the people on this ship, many of whom aren’t even Americans and less than a hundred of whom are from Utah.”

“This isn’t the time, Staff Captain, but we need to have a meeting soon,” Al said.

Then they got back to business until the Greeks were taken off on a tour of the ship by Professor Easley and Dag.

* * *

“All right, Congressman,” Captain Floden asked after the Greeks had left the room, “what did you mean when you said you represented the passengers?”

“Yes,” Staff Captain Dahl said. “Who elected you?”

Al took a sip of ice water and carefully put the glass back on the table before he answered. “Staff Captain, as to who elected me, the people of the United States did. The chain of command runs from the president to the vice president to the Speaker of the House and President Pro Tem of the Senate, and then through all the members of the cabinet starting with the Secretary of State. If they’re all dead — or gone missing — then it goes down the congressional chain of seniority, to me. As it happens, I am three hundred fifty-seventh in the House. It matters for things like committee seats, which is why I know. For this ship, in these circumstances, I am the next in line for the presidency of the United States of America. And if you find that notion something between obscene and ridiculous, believe me, I am no more fond of it than you. But it’s true. There will need to be elections, but until they are held, I am the commander-in-chief of the citizens of the United States on this ship.”

“But we aren’t in the United States, Congressman. We weren’t in the United States when The Event happened. We weren’t even in her territorial waters.”

Al shrugged. Captain Floden had a point. “I agree that it’s a gray area, and I am not trying to usurp your authority, Captain. But, like it or not, it leaves me with a responsibility to the American citizens on this ship, and that’s the majority of the people here.”

“Does that make me the queen of England?” Jane Carruthers asked with a smile.

“I have no idea, Ms. Carruthers.” Al laughed. “I don’t know your relationship to the crown, or the relationship of the other British citizens on board.”

“I can’t let command of the Queen fall to an unqualified person or, especially, a group, just because they have the most votes,” Captain Floden said. “And I can’t run for election, either. I’d lose and that still wouldn’t make me unqualified to command this ship.”

“No, you’re right about that, Captain. Command of this ship, at least in the immediate sense, must remain with you and your staff.”

“In the immediate sense?” Dahl asked. “What other sense is there?”

“The long-term policy sense,” Al said. “If we are truly stuck in this time and it’s permanent, then we can’t stay on this ship having shrimp cocktails and weiners on a stick forever. We have to do something. Something beyond getting more shrimp and bread. The planning for that something can’t be the purview of one unelected man. It must represent the views of the majority of the people on the ship, passengers as well as crew.”

“How would you go about that, Congressman Wiley?” asked Jane Carruthers. “I’m not objecting. In fact, I rather agree with you, at least in principle. I just want to know how you plan to hold elections and what level of…well, civilian oversight…you’re looking to impose.”

“I don’t know yet, but we all need to be thinking about it.”

* * *

“I wish to see the movers,” Crates of Olynthus said yet again. Marie didn’t even need to translate it because Crates had made the same request every time they had gone anywhere on the ship. So far they had been to the casino, two restaurants, a stateroom, the Royal Duty Free Shop, the Coach shop, where Dinocrates had bought a leather jacket, a backpack, and boots. They’d just finished the visit to Guess, where Dinocrates bought a pair of blue jeans and a silk shirt, putting the whole thing on Atum’s ship account. Atum wasn’t looking very pleased, but he had nodded acquiescence. If Dinocrates kept this up, they would be owed another boatload of wheat.

Dag said in English, “We can take him to see the engines if you want, but there won’t be a lot to see. They are turbines and all the moving parts are covered.”

“Show him what you can, Dag,” Marie said. “Almost twenty-four hundred years later, this man’s name is still remembered. He’s the one who designed the sewer system for Alexandria.”

So they went down many decks, and Dag took them into the crew section where the passengers weren’t allowed, and showed them the engine rooms.

“But where are the machines you mentioned?” Crates asked.

“They are under the covers and behind the shields. Understand, we use great heat and spin the turbines very fast. So fast that even were there not shields, you couldn’t see the blades.”

“Well, what can I see?” The little balding man seemed pretty upset.

Dag thought about showing them the machine shop, and then remembered what Romi was doing in there. Instead, Dag took him to one of the monitors that could be used to see the props on the nacelles. The nacelles had cameras and lights. Looking at the monitors, you could see the props turning. As he showed Crates the moving propeller, he wondered how Romi was doing with the steam-powered guns.

* * *

Romi cursed and sucked on a skinned knuckle. “What you think, Marcus? Will the arrester valve hold pressure?”

“It should, Romi. It’s the rest of the rig that bothers me. It’s going to take a lot of steam pressure to run this thing.”

“We’ve got a lot of pressure. High pressure fire-fighting gear all over the ship. It takes a lot of pressure piping to run those, and we can use the spares to set up the feeds for the cannon.”

“You really think anyone would try to take the ship?”

Romi considered. “No. They may be primitive, but I doubt they’re idiots. They couldn’t even reach the deck without help and they know it, or should. It’s seventy-five feet from the sea to the Promenade Deck. Figure that even a tall ship for these people is maybe thirty feet up. That’s another forty-five feet. They might be able to get a rope up to the Promenade Deck, but then they spend ten minutes climbing rope ladders while we drop flower pots on their heads. And when the survivors get here, they are so tired that a ten-year-old with a belaying pin could beat the bunch of ’em.”

“So why are we…”

“Because officers are obsessive idiots in any century. At least, ours are.”

* * *

Dag showed the party into another part of the engine room and Panos Katsaros said something in Greek.

Once Panos had everyone’s attention, he asked, “What about some shore leave, Mr. Jakobsen?” Then more Greek, apparently translating for the locals.

Panos was a Greek lower deck sailor, an able seaman, whose job was engine wiper. He had also been an ongoing discipline problem. Nothing serious, but the man liked to party.

The room held one of the emergency backup generators and it was receiving standard maintenance. Crates started talking in Greek and Panos held up his hands and made a downward pushing gestures. Crates slowed down, and Panos started pointing at the components of the generator, the coiled wires and the drive shaft. Just the sort of thing that any industrial worker would know about the machines he used and worked on.

While Panos was impressing one of the great minds of ancient Greece with his knowledge, Atum spoke to Dag. “I can arrange something, Mr. Jakobsen. I know how to deal with sailors.”

 

Alexander Inheritance – Snippet 11

Alexander Inheritance – Snippet 11

Dag pushed a final button and the device spoke. It was Greek of the horribly accented, almost unintelligible version Atum had heard on the great ship. It said almost what he had written. Almost, but not quite. He corrected the missed word and Dag tapped some more. Again that voice from the magic slate, and this time Atum nodded. He was getting used to the horrible Greek by now, or at least starting the process of getting used to it. Now the translation to that strange speech, and Dag tapped again. By this point Atum had almost forgotten the question, but the funny Greek answer brought it back.

Atum had learned quite a lot in the last ten hours. He was shocked and amazed by what he had seen, but he had tentative agreements with the travelers from the future who occupied the great ship. It was named Queen of the Sea and it could well rule all the world’s oceans. And its coasts as well. Or it would have been able to if it were a warship, but it wasn’t. It was filled with people who had boarded it for a pleasure cruise, not soldiers.

* * *

The slave, Abd Manaf, looked out at the big white ship sitting just outside of Alexandria harbor with his mouth agape. The overseer, also a slave but of higher status was gaping too, as were most of the rest of the slaves in the work crew. Partly it was just the size of the enormous ship, but partly it was the smaller ship that was moving toward shore with no oars or sails, as though being pulled along by an invisible team of horses. One of the brighter slaves got back to work and that got the attention of the overseer, who started shouting at the men in the work crew.

Abd Manaf wasn’t the smartest slave in the crew. He was still staring when the overseer’s eyes fell on him. The overseer hollered and laid into Abd Manaf with a reed whip. The whip, a piece of wood thin enough to bend in the swing and to leave welts or cuts, snapped against Abd Manaf’s back, leaving a welt. Not the first. There were a welter of them on Abd Manaf’s back. And the backs of the other slaves, if not as crisscrossed by red as Abd Manaf’s, were still marked. The cries of pain and the smell of blood added to the miasma of the port, along with the smell of dead fish and salt water.

Abd Manaf’s back wasn’t the only one laid open that morning. But, in spite of the whippings, there were a lot of people watching the strange boat approach the docks.

* * *

On reaching the docks, Atum climbed out and waved away the guards that the arrival of the magical boat had brought out. He spoke to Ahmose, one of his foremen, giving orders that the boat be filled with sacks of unthreshed wheat till the Gaul said it was enough. Then he went home to bed.

* * *

Dag watched as the Egyptian workers carried the bags of wheat to the boat. It was a lifeboat that had been modified to act as a tender for the Queen. It was limited in that it was restricted to fuel oil, not having the flex fuel engines that the Queen and the Reliance had.

Dag watched as naked men carried sacks of grain on their backs, up to the pier where the lifeboat was tied up. He was uncomfortable at first with the nudity, but that changed quickly. What bothered him more was the sacks on their backs. They seemed to weigh as much as the men themselves did. Wheelbarrows and dollies occurred to Dag as items of trade. He would have to talk to Romi about that. Still another first priority to add to the list.

For most of the day, they loaded grain onto the boat, and by the end of the day the ship had probably broken even on food. That is, they had added enough to equal what the passengers and crew had eaten. He was approached by people speaking to him in Egyptian and Greek and who knew what, but he couldn’t understand more than a word or two, which he had to make clear with gestures. Luckily, Atum’s guards were doing a pretty good job of keeping the riffraff back. Atum had given them instructions before he left.

By this time, Dag was pretty sure the men doing the loading were slaves and a part of him was ready to pull the pistol and make a point. At the same time, Dag had seen poverty before, and seen employment that was as close to outright slavery as made very little difference. Besides, this was likely the ship’s only source of enough food to keep the passengers and crew going. He couldn’t afford to do anything that might jeopardize that.

Around noon, two sources of lunch arrived. Another ship’s boat brought sandwiches, and some women brought up a cart with bowls, soup, and flat bread. The soup was vegetable and pretty good, but the bread was tough and grainy. Dag really preferred the ship’s bread to the Egyptian flat bread. He gave the chief guard a roast beef on rye with mustard and pickles. The guard tried it, and apparently found it good. The guard spoke Greek and yet another language that Dag didn’t know, but it sounded sort of like what you heard among the Arabs on the ship, or what you might hear in a synagogue. The guy was wearing a long dress, and he had a sword at his side. He also had purple tassels on his “dress.” Dag didn’t know what to call the thing, and didn’t think it represented anything effeminate, but it sure looked like a dress to him. He would learn later that the guard captain, Josephus, was a Jew, though a somewhat Hellenized one.

* * *

Atum got back to the pier about the time they were finished loading, and he had brought his wife, Lateef, who was a black-haired lady of middle years with a long nose and sharp features. She had a pleasant smile, though, and a friendly manner, and Dag liked her. Also with them were two Greeks, one called Crates of Olynthus, the other Dinocrates of Rhodes.

Dag got the impression that they were important people. Then he made the connection. He remembered from Wikipedia that Dinocrates of Rhodes was the one whom Alexander the Great appointed to design Alexandria. It piqued Dag’s interest in the man. Dag was interested in how systems interacted. That was what had led him to his job as the Environmental Compliance Officer on the Queen. In spite of the job title sounding like a rulebook pain in the ass, it was actually about making sure that the ship worked and that it didn’t screw up the ocean it was traveling through. There was a lot of practical engineering, knowing where you could cut corners and where you couldn’t. Not that Dag was all that concerned about the environmental impact of a single cruise ship. Even if they dumped oil over the side by the ton, it wouldn’t have any significant effect on the oceans of the world. It was back in the future, where there were hundreds of cruise ships and thousands of cargo ships, that it had a cumulative effect. But the Greek guys were talking and Dag didn’t have a clue what they were saying. He looked to Atum.

Atum pulled out his pad and wrote. Dag pulled his comp-pad from its case and typed in the characters. What he got back was: they want to go to the ship.

“Right,” Dag said. “Let me call it in.” He used the phone function on his pad and called the ship. He got Adrian Scott. “Hey, Scotty. We have Dinocrates of Rhodes here and he wants to come by for a visit, along with a guy named Crates.”

“Who’s Dino of Rhodes and why should I care?”

“Ask Marie Easley. In the meantime, tell the captain that we have important company coming.”

 

Alexander Inheritance – Snippet 10

Alexander Inheritance – Snippet 10

He looked where the guard was looking and saw symbols like the ones in the dots lighting up in order. Again, his quick mind figured it out. There was a light moving along behind the strip of symbols, lighting each in turn as they moved. He could almost see the gears. He was familiar with gears. They were all the rage in Athens for astrological calculating devices.

* * *

That lasted till the doors opened and he was led into a room with leather-covered seats, more like thrones than the sort of stool Atum was used to. There he was introduced to an older woman named Marie Easley and a younger woman called Eleanor Kinney. The older woman spoke something approaching passable Macedonian Greek. She didn’t speak it well, and there was much too much of the Athenian about it to be proper Macedonian, but it was closer to understandable than the pidgin Greek he had heard up to now.

“Welcome. I am Marie Easley, a scholar of this time,” the woman said.

“Explain, please. You study the present? Recent history perhaps?”

“We are not of this time. We on this ship come from far in the future. We have learned a great deal and I am an historian, one who studies Ptolemaic Egypt.”

Atum didn’t believe her, but he couldn’t say that. For now at least, he was in these people’s power. So he leaned back in the seat and considered her words as though they were true. Ptolemaic Egypt? That would mean that Ptolemy would become pharaoh. Alexander’s empire would collapse. Or would it? Would Ptolemy become the next king of Alexander’s empire and move the capital to Egypt? That seemed possible, certainly. Even though Ptolemy protested his loyalty to Alexander’s heirs in every second sentence. “What is Ptolemaic Egypt to be, then?”

The scholar pursed her lips and tilted her head slightly. “We aren’t sure. The truth is, we don’t know how it happened that we came here, or really even what happened. We have no record of a ship such as this arriving off Alexandria at this time. I assure you, there would be such a record. And there are causes and effects, so we must assume that history will take a different path in this time than it did in our history. If that is not too confusing.”

“I think I understand, at least in a general way,” Atum said. “What happened with Ptolemy and the generals in your history is not necessarily what will happen now.”

“Yes, that’s the conclusion we have at least tentatively drawn. But what brings you to brave this ship? You said something about trade?”

“Yes. I assume you will need food and provisions. If you have goods or money, we can deal. I am a wheat merchant, and I buy from the farmers up the Nile and sell to the construction crews. I can arrange for grain to feed your rowers.”

“Rowers?” she asked.

Atum shrugged. “You must have something to propel your ship.” Seeing the confusion on her face, he rephrased the question. “Something to push the ship through the water.”

She turned to the young woman and spoke. The young woman wore her hair short, but not shaved with a wig as was sometimes done by women in Egypt. She had a heart-shaped face, with brown eyes and hair. The hair had blond streaks, bleached by the sun, Atum thought. The woman was attractive and the style made her more exotic than her features did. The woman spoke back to the scholar and they turned to a young man who seemed to be the chief of their guards. He took a device from his pocket and touched it, held it to the side of his head with one end next to his ear and the other near his mouth, then spoke and apparently listened. He pocketed the device and spoke to the women, all while Atum looked on and tried to understand what was going on.

Atum didn’t speak the language they were speaking, but he didn’t need to. He was good at reading people. It was a large part of his business. It was clear that the women were in charge in this room, but that the young Gaul was high in their trust. He had been asked about something and Atum, after his earlier experiences, guessed that the device he had used was some sort of a speaking horn. And he wanted one. As he watched, it seemed to Atum that they at least believed their tale of traveling through time. Either that, or they were much better liars than they seemed to be.

“We needed to speak to the captain of the ship,” the scholar explained. “The ship uses burning naphtha — or any liquid that will burn, for that matter — to push it through the water and to power many of our devices.” She pointed at the lights in the ceiling and then at the slates, like the one the young Gaul had presumably used to talk to the captain. “But we do need grain and other foodstuffs. Sheep, goats, pigs, cattle, fruits and vegetables.”

Then they got down to business. For the next hour, Atum dealt with Eleanor Kinney through the scholar. He guessed that Kinney was a skilled negotiator, and they had a series of goods brought in. Including account books, and a box of writing implements that the scribes in the royal palace would be lining up to buy at almost any price. Eleanor warned him that they would run out of ink eventually. It wouldn’t be soon, months of use, perhaps as long as a year. That would lower the price, but the “pens” would still be valuable, as would the very fine papyrus they used, neatly formed and lined.

Ten minutes in, Atum knew he wasn’t the only person in the room who could read people. The fact that the women were doing the dealing didn’t upset Atum. He was half-Egyptian after all. But it did make it clear these people weren’t Greeks. They appeared to be of every tribe imaginable — and some he had never imagined — but were all of one culture. Or seemed to be, at least.

He bought a backpack. What a useful device that! How odd that people who could come up with such devices would accept barbarian Gauls into their ranks! He sold, for a backpack full of pens and paper and five thousand “dollars” in ship’s credit, a ship’s boat full of wheat. This agreement was a bit of an experiment, both on his part and on theirs. It would take him a little time to find the resale price on the pens and paper, and they would need to examine the grain. It would give everyone a chance to judge the value of what they were buying and selling.

They showed him around the ship. He had a meal in one of the “restaurants,” and he looked around the shops. Then they reached the “casino.”

Atum didn’t lose his head. He was careful. But he did, gradually, gambling till dawn, lose three thousand of the five thousand “dollars” credit. He would win some, lose some, win some more. It was great fun and very exciting, if a little overwhelming with the noise and the lights. He realized that the wrong person could lose a kingdom in a night in this room. Or, if the gods were smiling, win one.

Alexandria

September 19

The next morning as the sun came up, an exhausted Atum boarded the boat he had promised to fill with grain. It was a small ship almost the size of his family’s galley, and escorted Atum’s galley back to the docks. The small ship had no rowers, but it was obvious to Atum that it could have made circles around his galley if it had chosen to. Atum was on the small ship and found it comfortable, if noisy.

“How is it powered?” he asked in Greek and got no response other than pointing at ears and shaking heads. He pulled out the tablet and pencil he had bought at one of the great ship’s “gift shops” and wrote in Greek.

He passed the tablet over to the young man in the white clothing and the peculiar hat that was called a “uniform,” and watched as that man pulled out one of the magical “electronic devices” they had and tapped it with his fingers. Atum was almost getting used to that, and this Dag seemed a nice enough lad for a barbarian Gaul.