Eudaimon left this'- he touched the new measuring cord- 'at the Euryalus, so that anyone who took measurements of the machines there would get the wrong figures, and any catapult built in imitation wouldn't work?'
Epimeles nodded. 'See,' he said, 'the two fifty-pounders up at the Euryalus are the biggest catapults in the city at the moment. Eudaimon assumed that Archimedes would measure them, then guess at the increases necessary to make them throw the extra ten pounds: it's the way he'd have gone about designing a one-talenter himself. This afternoon it came out that Archimedes couldn't be bothered to walk up to the Euryalus and took his measurements from some little fifteen-pounder close by. Eudaimon was…' The foreman hesitated, picking his words, then said, '… outraged, shocked, and disappointed. When I saw that, I thought I'd go up to the Euryalus and see what he'd been up to- and sure enough, I found this, in the storeroom where the gear's kept. The lads at the fort all agree that it was just where their old one was, but that it's new, and they don't know how it got there. But they remember Eudaimon coming up there in the afternoon four days ago.'
'I see,' said Agathon grimly.
It wasn't evidence to convict a man of treason: they both knew that. But it could be an underminer, a question mark, a stone in the shoe. It could hurt Eudaimon.
Epimeles shifted the cord toward the doorkeeper. 'I thought you should look after it.'
Agathon nodded thoughtfully and picked up the false measuring cord. He began winding it about his hand. 'I'm surprised you went all the way up to the Euryalus to look for it,' he said. The fortress lay at the extreme point of the city wall, six miles from the Ortygia.
At that Epimeles grinned. 'I would have gone twice as far if it'd help get your lad put in charge of catapults. It will, won't it?'
Agathon looked up in surprise.
'Well, you know he's good!' said Epimeles, surprised at the question on his face. 'You told us to look after him and make sure nobody interfered with his one-talenter, and we realized why pretty quickly. He's so good he doesn't even realize how good he is. That one-talenter- you know what he's done with it? The little fifteen-pounder he copied can be pivoted, of course, so he thought up a system with windlasses so that his will pivot as well. When I told him that the fifty-pounders at the Euryalus don't pivot, he just looked surprised and said, 'Well, that's stupid!' '
Epimeles laughed. Agathon looked at him sourly and asked, 'Is it?'
'People will say so now, won't they? But nobody ever used to expect anything bigger than a forty-pounder to pivot. Archimedes has just invented an entirely new system for aiming big machines- and he doesn't even realize! It was easier for him to design it than it was to walk up to the Euryalus and have a look at how other people did it. Some of the lads laughed about that, and he didn't even understand why. Zeus! I almost feel sorry for Eudaimon. He's never built a catapult that wasn't copied piece by piece from another catapult, and when he can't get definitive measurements- and on the big machines, each one is a bit different- he guesses and he struggles and he runs all over the city trying to find out what the right figure is. Archimedes sits down and scribbles for half an hour and has the perfect number there in his hand. Zeus!' he said again. 'Eudaimon's like some little local athletics teacher who trains hard every year and toils to come third or fourth in the city games- and he's trying to race against a fellow who could take the crown at Olympia and barely raise a sweat. He's not good enough to compete in the same event. He's not even good enough to realize that!'
'So he cheats,' said Agathon sourly.
' 'Course he does,' agreed Epimeles. 'Mind you, he would against any opponent, and I can't entirely blame him. When he loses this job, where will he go? He's got family, too, depending on him.'
'You're almost sorry for him?'
The foreman looked down. 'No,' he said, quietly, 'I am sorry for him. But I don't want him in charge. Nobody likes building catapults that are feeble, or kick over, or can't shoot straight. That one-talenter, now- that will be a real Zeus, a hurler of thunderbolts. You can feel it when you look at it. It sort of pulls the whole workshop in around it like a whirlpool and it makes my hair stand up to touch it.' He paused, then added, 'And don't worry. Nobody's going to hurt that machine now. The lads and I will see to that.'
'Has Archimedes asked you to guard it?'
Epimeles looked offended. 'You think we need him to ask us? A divine thing like that? That catapult is our work as well! But no, he hasn't asked us. I don't think he's even noticed that he's putting Eudaimon out of a job, and it's never occurred to him that Eudaimon would ruin the catapult to hurt him. He doesn't notice Eudaimon much. He doesn't notice people much anyway, and when it's a person he doesn't like he notices him even less. He's pleasant enough when he does notice, though, and he treats the lads decently. I'll have no trouble working with him.' He grinned at the prospect, and finished his cup of wine. 'Will you show that'- he gestured at the measuring cord- 'to the regent?'
Agathon sucked his teeth thoughtfully for a minute, then shook his head. He had a low opinion of Leptines. 'I'll wait for the master to come home,' he said. 'He'll be very interested.'
5
The catapult was completed in the middle of the morning four days later. It crouched in the center of the workshop like a predatory insect: a long low stock like an abdomen perched upon the three-legged stand, and at the far end, the great bowlike arms stretched wide like a praying mantis striking. The single eye of the aperture between those arms had the unblinking stare of death. When Archimedes winched back the string- an arm-thick leather cable- it gave a groan like a giant waking; when he released it, the clap of the ironclad arms against the iron heel plates was like the shattering of mountains. The workmen cheered and stroked the beast's bronze-plated back and wooden sides.
Archimedes had expected the machine to be finished that morning, but still he stood back and contemplated it with delight: his first catapult. 'It's a beauty,' he told Epimeles.
'The finest I've ever seen,' the foreman agreed. Archimedes looked at him in surprise: he knew that Epimeles had been in the workshops for over twenty years, and he hadn't thought the man was given to flattery. Then he looked back at the one-talenter and grinned: best in twenty years or not, it was a beauty.
'Well,' he said, and picked up the cloak he had brought along that morning in the expectation of another visit to the king's house. 'I'll go tell the regent it's done, shall I? And ask him where he wants it, and when he wants the trial. But…' He dug in his purse. 'Why don't you and the lads buy yourselves a drink to celebrate?'
'Thank you, sir- not yet,' said Epimeles at once. 'After the trials, sir, would be better.'
Disappointed, Archimedes put his money back in the purse: he suspected that for all the flattery, Epimeles wasn't certain the machine would work. He sighed and walked off a bit disconsolately.
'What was wrong with a drink to celebrate?' asked Elymos, who was fond of wine.
'The gods hate arrogance,' replied Epimeles. 'We haven't got it safely through its trial yet. You want somebody to tamper with it while we're busy drinking?' He patted the huge machine with loving awe.
Archimedes recovered his good humor on the walk to the king's house. The week just past had been thoroughly enjoyable. It had been fun making the one-talenter, and things were well at home: his father actually seemed to have recovered a little. Perhaps it was just not having to worry about when his son would return, but Phidias was sitting up in bed, drinking barley broth three times a day, and taking an interest in things. He listened to the music the rest of the family played for him, he discussed Alexandria with his son, he even played a bit with the puzzle. Archimedes decided that it would help again when he himself got a salaried position as a royal engineer; it would take another burden off his father's mind. Well, that should now happen as soon as the catapult had proved itself.
And now- now he would see Delia again. Archimedes fingered the small package he'd stowed in a fold of his cloak, the new cheek strap and the old one, and walked faster.
He had no serious expectation that there could be anything between himself and the king's sister. But he had no expectations about anything: he was living in the present and trying not to think of the future, which held at best a life of drudgery and at worst the horrors of defeat in war. Delia was a pretty girl. She was clever, she had made him laugh, and she played the aulos very well. Today he would see her again and give her a gift: what more could
