Chapter Fourteen

[Athens, 2061 AD]

"We had a heated discussion for a few minutes, and despite my best advice, he took a cab to the Hippocrates Medical Center," the android said to Sierra about Max. "And depending on what he finds there, he'll either come back here or go to the Realport and get on a hypersonic to New York."

"What does he hope to find at the hospital?" Sierra asked, though she thought she knew.

"Either Alcibiades or your Mr. Appleton," the android replied. "They are the ones he's seeking, as I'm sure you know. I told him they were already gone several days – I deliberately set the chair so that our paths could not cross – but Max needed to see that for himself."

Sierra considered going to the hospital herself.

"You're more likely to miss each other if you rush to Hippocrates now," the android said, reading Sierra's emotions.

"Why did the chair take minutes rather than seconds to get back to me?" Sierra demanded, eager to change the subject. She agreed with the android that running after Max in these circumstances was not a good idea – he could well be gone when she got to the hospital, and what then? With any luck, he'd come back here after finding that Alcibiades and Appleton had left.

"I have feelings, I have no better control of my emotions than do you," the android replied. "I was not quite my precise self when I punched in the destination time. I was surprised by Max's intensity."

Sierra was surprised, too – that Max hadn't waited here. Her mind raced. This android had said that Sierra knew that Max would be seeking Alcibiades or Appleton, and the android was right. But did the android know that Sierra knew that Max had very different motives in wanting to see the two men? His motive for seeing Appleton here would likely be to give him the Chronica – on the one hand, not as safe as depositing the scroll with Appleton in his Riverdale home in 1895, but Appleton in any place and time was less of a target than Max, and therefore a safer holder of the scroll. But Sierra and Max had taken great care to make sure no one, including the android, knew about the Chronica. And it still did not make sense that Max would take off to meet Appleton, with Sierra just a split second away. No, Max was after Alcibiades, and his motives for wanting to see him were completely different. Now her heartbeat accelerated to the speed of her spinning brain. She needed to see Alcibiades, too–

Sierra realized the android was looking at her. She had an odd expression in her eyes. "Had you taken more care with the chair's settings, I would have arrived here before Max left," Sierra said. "I think you delayed my arrival deliberately – or there is something else going on that you haven't told me about. What is it?"

The android sighed, mightily.

Well, at least you're likely telling the truth about your emotions, Sierra thought.

"I revealed something to Max," the android said slowly, "I thought he needed to know."

Sierra looked at the android questioningly.

"He wanted to know more about you and Alcibiades," the android said.

Sierra nodded. That made sense.

The android sighed again, "Max loves you very deeply."

"I know," Sierra said, barely audibly.

"Do you know why Alcibiades has not come to find you, since you parted in the prison of Socrates in 399 BC?"

"Is he dead?" Sierra asked in a choked voice. She had held these molten feelings at bay for so long.

"No," the android said. "What I mean to say is Alcibiades did not die at the age you knew him – he grew old and eventually died of natural causes."

Sierra discovered that tears were running down her cheeks.

"Alcibiades thought he discovered that you and he were Heron's parents," the android continued.

"What?"

"He learned all about DNA in your future."

"So he stayed away from me because he was afraid that we would bring Heron into being?"

"Yes."

"But he did not make me pregnant in the time we spent together, and I have not seen him since." Now Sierra's voice was loud and pitched. "Will we meet again?"

"I do not think so."

"But Heron exists. How–"

"Alcibiades slept with many women. He was sure that he was Heron's father – he was either mistaken about you being Heron's mother, or he forced history to take another turn. But by staying away from you, Alcibiades made sure you were not Heron's mother. Then the universe's resistance to change, its inertia in changing whatever was, directed Alcibiades to unknowingly seed the womb of another women, from which Heron was born."

* * *

It took several minutes or more for Sierra's thoughts to clear, and the first thing she saw clearly was that Max was still not back. "We can't wait here any longer," she said to the android, "Heron has been to this restaurant at least half a dozen times that I know of."

The android nodded and tapped her head with her index finger. "I have to find a terminal so I can upload the Library's catalog to some safe place and give you the password. But it's difficult to find terminals in this age of clouds, which would be far more vulnerable than terminals to Heron's hackers."

"Hospitals usually have terminals with special encryptions just in case there's a cloud burst," Sierra said.

"My arm could also use a little medical attention," the android said, and touched her robe. "I got this by the harbor in Alexandria."

"Nothing too serious, I hope?"

"No," the android replied, and carefully opened the door. "I timed our arrival to be too early in the morning for anyone to be here."

"Good." Sierra looked at the locker on the far side of the room – it was just as she had remembered, and it was not locked. "We have to put on suitable clothes. I assume Max did the same?"

The android nodded and walked with Sierra to the locker. The two put their scrolls on the floor and began taking off all of their clothes, which they placed in a bag marked "ancient" in the locker. It always occurred to Sierra whenever she thought about it that this total change of clothing including her undergarments was the time traveler's equivalent of every mother's advice to put on clean underwear every day, in case you got into an accident and had to go to the hospital. If Sierra had to be rushed unconscious to the Hippocrates or any other hospital in Athens 2061 AD, the last thing she needed the orderlies or doctors to see was the strophium she had just removed from around her breasts and the skimpy subligar from below her waist.

Sierra also noticed, as the android removed similar garments, that she looked 100% a woman bare naked, too. In fact, better than most women Sierra had seen this way in this or any other millennium. The two quickly donned contemporary clothing, including jackets with inner pockets big enough to carry their scrolls. "Which colors did Max take? So I can spot him at a distance."

"Deep blue, he looked good," the android replied. "The clothing in this time and place, in this time of year especially, is pretty much the same for men and women."

The two exited the restaurant. There were real clouds in the sky, angry with coming rain. But Sierra still found the jolt of 21st century air restorative.

The android summoned a robocab, which arrived 8 minutes later. "Hippocrates Center?" the warm male baritone with a Greek finish inquired.

"Yes," the android replied. Her fingers danced quickly over the pay pad on the back of the driver's seat. "I'm running up quite a tab here," she said.

"Who's paying for this?" Sierra asked.

"You, in the future," the android replied.

Sierra nodded absently. She suddenly was thinking the android had still not given her a complete explanation of why Max had bolted to this hospital – maybe there was something more the android had told him. Alcibiades supposing that he and Sierra could be Heron's parents was a punch in the stomach, no doubt, but more to Sierra than Max. Was there something else, relating more directly to Max and Alcibiades, that the android had revealed?

"Please put me through to Mr. Al C. Biades," the android was saying into her phone, which was embedded in her wrist. To Sierra, she explained, "They may have mis-parsed his name." Back to the phone, she said, "No? How about a Mr. Al Cibiades," she offered the alternate mis-parsing and spelled it. "He left five days ago? OK, thanks for checking." She shook her head no to Sierra.

"Mr. Appleton told me he waited four days for Alcibiades to return, so he's likely gone now, too," Sierra said.

The android shook her head yes, but mouthed "I'll ask anyway" to Sierra. "Have you seen a visitor, Mr. William Henry Appleton? He left yesterday? I see." She shook her head no again to Sierra. "Yes?" The android's eyes opened wide. "We'll be there in 10 minutes. Could you please find him and ask him wait for us?"

The android ended the connection and smiled broadly at Sierra. "Max is still at Hippocrates!"

* * *

Their cab pulled up to the Hippocrates Center about 10 minutes later. Sierra and the android walked into the lobby. Three heavily armed police were looking at Max.

Sierra quickly considered her options. The android put a restraining hand on Sierra's shoulder.

Max caught sight of the pair, and rushed towards Sierra. His arms were around her before she could move or speak. He was laughing with joy and kissing her. "I'm sorry," he told her repeatedly between kisses. "I had to see if Alcibiades was still here. If there was any chance–"

Sierra managed to pull a little away and look at the police. They were looking at Max and her and the android, and slightly smiling.

Max caught Sierra's gaze and followed it. "I asked them to keep an eye on me," Max said, about the police. "I told them I was carrying something very valuable–"

"Why the hell didn't you wait for me?" Sierra demanded, even though he already had answered that question.

"I–" Max began to answer again.

"And why didn't you come right back to the restaurant after you confirmed that neither Alcibiades nor Appleton were here?" Sierra asked.

"I was afraid I might lead Heron right back to you," he said to Sierra and the android.

"He has a point," the android said.

"This hospital has to be at least as dangerous as the restaurant," Sierra responded.

"Everything in Athens is dangerous," the android said. "Heron was in Athens in ancient times – who knows what resources he set in place for himself in this and other future times."

"So you recommend we leave the city?" Max asked.

The android nodded. "There are rooms with chairs in London and New York. Let's split up the dime again into pennies again – I think that will make things harder for Heron at this point. You two come from New York – go back there and get your scrolls to Mr. Appleton at the end of 19th century. We're now three months later than your time in New York City after Hotel De Vie, so there's no danger of your running into yourself. And I'll go to London and further into the future, where I can store this catalog in places more likely impervious to Heron."

"You've changed your mind about uploading it to a terminal here?" Sierra asked.

"Difficult decision," the android said. "I'm tempted, because it gives the catalog another nook to hide in. But I'm concerned that however well encrypted the hospital terminal may be, my catalog could still attract Heron. I think the option of quitting this place while we're ahead of Heron appeals to me more."

"I think I agree with that." Max said.

Sierra noticed that Max seemed less distrustful of the android. Likely because of the frank conversation the two had had about her.

"I agree, too," Sierra said. "It's hard to argue with the benefit of being clear of Heron."

The android purchased phones from a vending machine for Max and Sierra. "These come with a generous line of credit," she told them.

The three nodded thanks and goodbye to the police. "Let me just take care of my arm," the android said, and pointed to a free public fixit counter.

"Of course," Sierra said.

The android walked to the counter. A nurse asked her to roll up her sleeve, and wrapped a nanotech mending device around her arm. The nurse unwrapped the device about 30 seconds later and smiled in response to the android's thanks. The android returned to Sierra and Max.

"Good as new," the android said. The three left the hospital and jumped in a cab by the curb. "Athens Realport," the android instructed the cab.

* * *

The android left Sierra and Max at the realport, and boarded the HST to London.

"It's nice to see that again, isn't it," Max said, as he and Sierra looked at the gossamer HST rising like a huge languid dragonfly.

"Yeah," Sierra agreed. "Time travel is insanely more incredible, but it's like a slug in the mud compared to the sheer beauty of travel in the air. I took a plane just like that with Socrates."

"I know," Max said, and hugged her tight. "We better get to our departure gate." They were due at the gate in less than an hour, and they were on the other side of the big, sprawling realport.

"So I guess we were right to trust her," Sierra said about the android, as she and Max stepped on a slider. They whisked past dozens of brightly colored little shops, including a bookstore that specialized in old printed books. Sierra shook her head and snorted.

"What?" Max asked.

"I thought I saw a guy with long white hair pacing around that bookshop, in the same way as Ptolemy," Sierra said.

"Well was he Ptolemy? I wouldn't be stunned, given what we're going through."

"I don't know," Sierra said. "We went by too quickly. I don't think so." She shook her head as if to shake off the cobweb of possibilities that now suggested itself. "I think I was just seeing things."

"I assume we can stop and get off this thing and head back to the bookshop," Max said. He pointed to a button on the hand rest that would open up a track to a slider going in the opposite direction – they had seen several other people use it.

"We better keep to our schedule," Sierra said. "We don't have that much time."

"Ok," Max nodded. "I'm still not trusting the android completely – I'm not trusting anyone completely except you. But so far so good as far as no Heron."

"Yeah," Sierra said.

"Though maybe that's worrisome in itself." Max continued. "Is he giving us a free pass now because our getting to New York with the scrolls is somehow in his plan?"

"Impossible to know one way or the other," Sierra replied. "But I'd still rather be here without him and his legionaries waiting around the corner in whatever they're wearing."

The two arrived at their terminal. They checked their phones again just to make sure their passports were still in order. Then they noticed the big glowing letters that said their flight was postponed two hours.

"I'm exhausted," Sierra said. She looked at the health and beauty pavilion just beyond the terminal. "How about we go over there and relax – I could use a massage."

Max smiled. "You relax and I'll watch, just to make sure Heron or one of his minions hasn't become a masseur."

[Carthage, 413 AD]

The Nubian yet again ushered Heron into Augustine's room and left.

"We've recovered the scrolls carried by Jonah and his wife, and Synesius and that unholy concubine," Heron said, as Augustine gestured him to a cushioned seat.

"Don't try to curry my favor by calling her unholy," Augustine said, testily. "It matters not to you that she was not created by God. You believe no more in God than she does."

Heron nodded his acknowledgment of the point.

"And it matters not to me, either," Augustine continued. "You say she was created by man, but man is an instrument of God, so she can rightly be considered God's work, too."

"You've become quite ecumenical in your theology," Heron replied.

"This is not about theology," Augustine said. "It is about not disrupting the future of humanity by giving it knowledge it was not meant to have. Is not that what you told me?"

Heron nodded again. "The only scroll that is crucial at this point is my Chronica, as I told you. A few more texts by Aristotle won't change the future in any major way."

"Yes, your Chronica. Perhaps Socrates was right that writing was more of a hindrance than a help to the human project after all," Augustine observed sarcastically.

"You do not believe that," Heron said, and waved to a wall with scrolls authored by Augustine.

"No, of course not," Augustine replied. "But that does not mean that care should not be taken with what is written."

"I reproach myself every day about writing the Chronica," Heron said and sighed. "I doubt that Hypatia would have trusted the concubine enough to let her carry that scroll. It is either in Hypatia or her lover Max's possession."

Augustine nodded.

"And I have what I hope is enough in place in the future to retrieve my Chronica before anyone else sees it."

[New York City, 2061 AD]

Two small groups of New York's finest awaited Sierra and Max at New York's Kennedy Airport – two groups, in case Sierra and Max chose to leave separately as a safety precaution from the two different exits of the airport, which they did. And not really New York's finest, but Heron's men, known in other ages as his legionaries, dressed now to look exactly like New York City police, and knowing just what to say and how to say it if they encountered any real members of the NYPD. There were legionaries similarly dressed in appropriate 2061 police attire in Boston, Washington, Atlanta, and New Chicago, because all were an easy distance from New York City and the Millennium Club and its room up the winding stairs with the chairs, and Heron thought Sierra and Max might take a flight from Greece to one of those cities as an extra precaution, which they did not.

The two went though separate customs lines in New York without incident. Sierra almost laughed when asked if she had acquired anything not allowed on the import list. Yeah, she was pretty sure scrolls from 150 AD and earlier were not permitted to be brought into the country without sufficient declaration, which of course Sierra did not make.

Sierra patted the precious scrolls in the deep inner pockets of her jacket and walked right past her group of phony cops, who looked her over, but only in appreciation of what they imagined to be underneath her clothes. She sighed in relief.

Max wasn't quite so lucky.

Four cops surrounded him as soon as they caught sight of his face. Max's familiarity with the NYPD was from two decades earlier, but he knew as soon as they closed in around him that these were not cops. Something about their surety, something about their lack of cop scripted tone as they barked orders at him made it crystal clear to Max that they were Heron's men. There was no way Max could have carried any kind of weapon from Athens to New York. "Ok, ok, take it easy," he said as they shoved him against the wall and slashed open his jacket. They removed all of his scrolls. The legionary with the knife waved it front of Max's face. "Where's your girlfriend?" he demanded in an odd, unidentifiable urban American accent. Max started to lie, but the legionary suddenly pocketed his knife, punched Max in the stomach, and ran with the three others. Max looked at them and then in the opposite direction, to see what they were running from – a real New York City cop, who ran up to him, gun drawn.

"Are you all right?" the cop asked.

Max nodded, his breath not completely back.

"Are you hurt? Did they rob you? Take anything valuable?"

Max thought for a second and took a couple of deep breaths. "No. Just an old book I picked up in Athens."

The cop nodded and called it in. "I'm sorry," he said to Max. "These lowlifes are impossible to eliminate – that's what happens when funding and security are reduced. The dress like us, but as soon as one of us approaches, they take off. Can I call a cab for you?"

"No, thanks, I'm ok." Max smiled weakly.

Sierra came running up from the same direction as the cop. "Are you ok?" she shouted desperately at Max.

"He just had the wind knocked out him," the cop answered. "He'll be fine."

Max nodded and accepted Sierra's arm. The two thanked the cop and walked with increasing speed to the taxi stand.

"We were supposed to go on separately to the hotel if either of us wasn't at the cab stand," Max said.

"Right, like you would have just left me here to fend for myself, if I hadn't shown up."

Max took the point and pointed to the line of people at the taxi stand. "Shouldn't be too long," he said about the likely wait. "And you got through customs ok, and Heron's men didn't grab you?" he asked, though the answer was obvious and he smiled in gratitude about it.

"I passed a group of cops who looked a little off, but all they did was undress me with their eyes," Sierra replied.

"Must be your renewed good looks," Max said, appreciatively, "though I was beginning to enjoy sleeping with Hypatia."

Sierra gave him a slightly acid smile. "You had a brilliant idea back there in the health shop – I'd forgotten that fast-growing facials have been around at least five years already." She tentatively touched her cheek. "It feels good to have my face back." She'd almost forgotten to replace her passport with Hypatia's picture and put her original passport in her phone – she never would have been able to board with a wrong picture – but Max had been on top of that, too. She was able to easily download her original passport from the cloud.

"Yeah, I was betting that Heron, as thorough as he is, wouldn't have thought about alerting his men to look for someone who really looked like the original you – he's been too intensely telling himself that the woman who looked like Hypatia was really you."

Their cab pulled up. Its door opened.

"No way Heron can control these robot cabs, is there?" Max asked.

"Probably not," Sierra replied. "But if he could control the cabs then he could do the same for the subway and the busses – they're all part of the same robotic system. And the hotels in the city are too far to walk to."

Max nodded. "And staying in an airport is probably more dangerous." He helped Sierra into the cab. "The New Barclay Hotel," he said to the cab, "Madison and 52nd Street."

"Very good, sir," the robot answered with a British accent.

"They were doing 19th-century Southern drawls the last time I was here," Sierra said and laughed a little.

"They took all of my scrolls," Max said, much more somberly.

"Good thing you also urged me again to carry the Chronica after my face-restoration," Sierra said and patted her jacket. "I've got that and the Aristotles right here." She felt a twinge about not having the Antisthenes scroll, which she had left with Jonah, and that gave her a deeper stab of concern about Jonah's fate.

"I'm just full of good ideas today." Max leaned over and kissed her. "Now we've got to figure out the best way to get them into Appleton's 19th-century hands, so they're off-line and beyond any hacking from Heron."