9:41 (6 page)

“Yes, Sir, one letter from the English Scientists Association, an invitation to the annual dance”.

“Oh, bosh, they're such terribly drab affairs, but then one must keep up appearances, mustn't one?”

“Yes, Sir”.

“I'm going down to the basement to work the finishing touches of the machine, and then, ah, and then, my dear, we will be able to project objects backwards and forwards in time at our pleasure”.

“I hope you will find everything in order, Sir. I've laid out all the tools I thought you would want”.

“Thank you. I'm sure everything will be satisfactory. Please do not disturb me at all for the rest of the morning”.

“Very good, Sir”.

As he walked down the stairs, Reggie began mumbling. “I do hope I won't hit any snags this morning. I'm sure if I don't I shall be completely finished within two hours. How absolutely smashing, in two hours I'll be finished with almost three year's research and work.” He reached the door marked “private”, unlocked it and went in. On the table, as the fluorescent bulb blinked on, could be seen a cylindrically shaped metal contraption about three feet high, and about a foot in diameter, with wires protruding from the top, five large dials set on the side near the top, and a small door just below the dials. This was a small-size time machine, a mere toy compared to the ones Reggie planned to build as soon as he perfected this one. Reggie donned his work clothes humming to himself. He lovingly touched the machine, set it on its side, opened the door and began to fumble with the wiring on the inside. At about twelve-thirty, after two and a half hours of most intense work, Reggie announced to himself that the work was finally complete. He pressed the button on the intercom, a buzz came to life, and Margaret's voice said: “Yes, sir?”

“Margaret, come down quickly, I'm all finished and am about to begin the first experiment”.

“Right away, Sir”.

He beamed with pride at the shiny cylinder in front of him. Then he took one of the white mice he kept in the cellar out of it's cage and was placing it in the machine as Margaret came in. “Here we are, Margaret, on the threshold of a new era in science”.

“Quite, Sir”.

“I'm going to set the machine for the 17th century. I'm sure they had mice in those days too, wouldn't you say?” he said lightly.

“Yes, Sir”.

“I say, Margaret, you don't seem to be the least bit enthused about the entire thing. What is the matter?”

“Well, Sir, it's like this. I've been working for you for two and a half years now, Sir. Every day you come in and work on the machine, and with all the other scientists saying you're balmy, … well by this time, Sir, I'm somewhat wondering if this machine of yours really will work”.

“Margaret, I'm surprised”, he said, looking at her crossly, actually hurt. “But nonetheless, your fears will completely disappear in about two minutes. Watch!”

He closed the door of the machine on the frightened mouse, set the dials at the exact time that he wished to send the mouse to, and threw the power switch. Whirr, the machine's parts began to mesh and pick up speed. The noise began to be a whine, and then a small bell sounded.

“There. Now we shall see, Margaret”. He opened the door in anticipation and curiosity. Margaret leaned in a little closer so as to see inside the machine. Reggie peered into the machine. A wry smile rippled across his face as he turned to Margaret. “You'll notice my dear there is nothing inside the machine, nothing at all, whereas only a few moments ago there was a live mouse”.

“It really does work. Can you ever forgive me for doubting you for even a minute, Sir?”

“Certainly, Margaret. I'll admit the machine did sound a little fantastic, but I was quite sure that it would work. After all, nature is very consistent, and when the proper steps are taken, success is guaranteed. I really think this is wonderful. I'm going to try it again”.

“Oh, please do, Sir. It really amazes me to see such a wonder in operation”.

Reggie placed another mouse in the machine, closed the door, and turned the dials. “Now, power on, and …” The machine didn't start. “What in hell, don't tell me something has gone wrong already. He reset the power switch at zero and opened the machine. The furry little white mouse inside scampered around the bottom of the machine. Reggie snared it and placed it back inside the cage. “Hand me the flashlight, will you, Margaret?”

“Yes, Sir. What do you think could be wrong with it, Sir?”

“I don't exactly know, probably a loose wire inside or something”. Reggie was peering inside the machine, probing from spot to spot with the light beam of the flashlight. “Aha, here we are, just as I suspected, a loose wire. Hand me the small screwdriver please, Margaret”.

She handed him the tool; he began to tighten the wire, one hand turning the screwdriver, the other holding the light.

“Oh damn, I can't get at it this way”. He placed the light down on the inside of the machine, focusing it on the spot where the loose wire hung and with both hands began to tighten the wiring. “One more turn and … there we are. I think that should take care of it”. He straightened up, closed the lid, set the dials and threw the power switch. The small engine purred and spun into life. “There we go, now let's get that mouse and see if the machine still works”.

Margaret was hurriedly fetching the mouse from it's cage when Reggie looked to her in a befuddled way and said: “Margaret, did you see what I did with my flashlight?”

The bright, orange light of the evening sun as it sat low on the horizon filtered in streams through the gaps in the immense cloud of dust that was raised by the passage of thousands of pairs of sandaled feet sauntering home from the Circus of Nero at the conclusion of the day's games. As the crowds wended their way toward the outskirts of Rome, a slight figure was fighting through the crowd back toward the city. It was a woman, dressed in the unpretentious garb of a plebian, crying with all her might, “Domitius, Domitius, where are you?” She was calling to her son who at the moment was where she was not. Frantically, she ran and walked and ran again when the breath allowed her to, constantly calling “Domitius”. About a half-mile further back on the Via Appia, an attractive small boy of thirteen sat on a small grey-veined rock at the side of the road, absorbedly scrutinizing an object he had picked up.

His black hair hung n points over his bronzed face, his dark eyes darting over the shiny object in his hand. It was an interesting, yea, even more, most marvelous thing that he had found. Surely there was not another tube like this in all of Rome, for he, being a vendor of wine skins, having traveled the length and breadth of the entire city, including the outskirts, had never seen another. Never had he seen anything in all of Rome that was so different, so shiny, so strange.

It was a small, tubular object, approximately 7 inches long and 2 inches in diameter, with a black metal body, and a silver tip at both the bottom and top, and a knob like bump on its side, a thin metal circle on one end, and beyond all wonders, a transparent hard shiny substance on the other end with a small eye surrounded by silver inside of it.

“By Jupiter, this is a wondrous thing, though yet, I know not what it is for. I'm sure it is mysterious and wonderful. Perhaps a lost gift of tribute for Nero, or perhaps the lost booty of a Praetor. I think it best I make no mention of this to anyone, even my Father and Mother”.

As he concealed his new found curiosity beneath his garments, he heard from afar his name being called aloud. For the first time in many minutes, he realized that the crowds were gone, as was his Mother. He recognized his mother's voice and began to run toward it, calling in return, “I'm coming, I'm coming”.

He reached his Mother who was weeping from worry and exhaustion as she stood in the middle of the road.

“I'm sorry I caused you worry, Mother. I just stopped to tie my sandal and I saw many curious rock formations and merely stayed to examine them”.

“I was frightened that you might have been run over by those wildly charging horses and chariot. Those rich young madmen from the city care not for the lives of a few poor people as they enjoy themselves while killing us”.

“I'm all right, Mother. Let us start for home lest it get dark before we get there”.

As they walked along with swift pace, Domitius was driven not by a fear of the dark, but by a desire which deepened with ever stride he took, for underneath his outer garment there beat against his side with every step toward home, the hardness and coldness of that strange metal tube he had picked up at the side of the road. His curiosity began to slip ordinary bounds as his mind was frantically thinking of things that this metal tube might be.

Just as the dark grey of falling night was giving way to ebon darkness, they reached their small, hut-like home, where Casua, the lord and master of their little swelling, sat surrounded by leather goods and sewing equipment, making wine skins for Domitius to sell in the city.

Casua was crippled, hacked down by a sword in the Gallic wars so many years before. He was unable to walk, and had to be carried from place to place. As they entered, he addressed his small family in an annoyed voice.

“Did Nero gorge himself on the sufferings of those poor Christians? I wish to Jupiter he would stop this barbaric pastime. I care not for Christians, but ye gods, I've seen enough suffering, as has all Rome, to enjoy this spectacle. I wish I had the power to stop it”.

The family sat down without further talk, and began to eat of the meal Meverina, wife of Casua and mother of Domitius, had just prepared. It was a simple repast of fowl and herbs, with a thick sweet sauce that Casua liked so much for the after-meal sweet.

Domitius ate little during the meal, and that which he did eat, he ate quickly, for he wished to spend as little time as possible in the house. He wanted to get out to the small clump of trees that had been the place of boyhood fantasies, where he knew he would be alone, and there examine the tube with more care.

Once out of the house, he ran, lantern in one hand, the other holding tight the spot where the tube was, so it would not bang against his body too hard, to the hidden place. There, he flung himself upon the ground, and with gasping breath, removed the tube from its hiding place.

“Wonder of wonders, this is a most marvelous thing, whatever it is. It must be a scepter of the gods”. He held it sideways, upside-down, twisted it around, felt poked, and prodded every inch of the metal surface. He twisted the end with the metal circle and found that it untwisted from the rest of the tube. This he did cautiously, only to find two smaller tubes within. These were covered with a parchment-like substance and had figures painted in a foreign language. Perhaps a message from the gods.

“Great Caesar, this is a strange thing”.

Quickly, he replaced the two smaller tubes to their original place, not wishing to disturb anything should he be found with this treasure. He kept fingering the tube. Suddenly his finger which was on the knob on the side of the tube slipped forward and … “Great gods!”

He dropped the tube in astonishment, bolted and ran as fast as he could toward the protection of a big rock. There he sat with a cold moisture spreading over his body, his teeth chattering, his hands shaking.

“Great Jupiter protect me from this horror”. He sat where he was in the coldness of his fright for what seemed to be many minutes, not daring to stir. With no further sound, or sign from where he had dropped the tube, he timorously lifted his head above the rock to see what was there.

“Gods on high, protect me”. There in front of him, lying on the ground, was the tube he had just been holding in his hands, and emitting from the front of it, from the little eye, was a beam of light … a light brighter than the sun, which illumined a path across the little knoll and rested upon a tree in a found circular patch of light.

He stood, petrified behind the rock, silently observing the phenomenon that was taking place in front of him. Certainly this, thought he to himself, was an omen or a sign from the gods. Perhaps it was meant for me to find.

He slowly moved from his hiding place to a spot directly behind the tube, opposite the tree that was being lit up by this marvelous omen from Apollo, the sun god. He crept quietly ever forward until he stood over the tube. It moved not. Now he reached down with trembling hand and picked it up. Still it moved not. He held it in his hand, and as his hand moved, so did the patch of light, now over the ground, now over the trees, making everything before him visible to the eye even though it was darkest night. His trembling fingers pushed the knob on the side again, and suddenly the darkness of the night surrounded him. A great fear overcame him as he stood there with the quietness of the night enveloping him. His curious fingers pushed forward on the knob and again a flash of light jutted out from the little eye and lit up a green fir tree. He pushed the button again; the light went out; again, the light went on; again, the light went out.

“I can control this magnificence with the touch of a finger. What a wonderful gift. Surely the gods sent this to me so that I might control it and use it for some purpose”, he thought. “Perhaps enough power to overcome the atrocities that Father was speaking of before. Surely this must be the answer. Power from the gods to withstand the divinity of Nero. It is an omen for me to oppose Nero. Was he not only a few years older than I am when he ascended the throne? So be it, oh gods, I will follow your wishes”.

In the days and weeks that ensued, Domitius revealed his power only to a few people, and these that he did show it to were the leaders of the tribes and groups that clustered together for protection. Each of these leaders were astounded by his magnificent gift, and were moved to agree with him as to its purpose. Slowly, a movement began to form. People would gather and Domitius would come with his ‘Scepter of the Sun' and shine it forth on the people so that they might receive strength from the sun.