Athena's Son (12 page)

“
The incense purifies our work and attracts the attention of the gods. It is required anytime we work on the deceased.” The Egyptian doctor, Kafele, was small and unassuming. Like all Egyptian doctors, he was more of a priest and shaved his whole body to demonstrate his reverence to the gods by keeping his body clean.

“
It only attracts more flies. By Apollo, it smells worse than this decaying body,” Herophilos said. “Couldn’t they have brought him here earlier? I could find out more if the body was fresher.”

When Pharaoh Ptolemy charged Archimedes to solve the crime with science, Archimedes asked to have the corpse taken to the school so an autopsy could be performed by Herophilos. Callimachus was standing next to Herophilos but Archimedes preferred a little distance and stood back by Kafele, nearer to the windows than the dissection.

Herophilos was the first doctor in history to extensively dissect the human body. He founded the school of medicine at the school because this was the only place that would allow him to do his research of human anatomy. His books were required reading for all new physicians attending school in Alexandria.

Egyptian doctors deferred to the gods to intercede when someone was sick, dying, or dead. Prayer, amulets, and incense showed respect by keeping the body intact. The cutting and exploring that Herophilos specialized at was repugnant to Kafele and the other priests.

Victim 12, a stonemason, was killed yesterday and his body was discovered this morning. This was the first murder victim Herophilos was asked to examine because the other 11 corpses were given to Ptahhotep. The cadaver was lying on a wooden table that had, Archimedes noticed, countless pink stains and gouges from the previous work of Herophilos. It reminded Archimedes of the mottled spear shaft that Ajax held. The man’s muscles were now stiff as leather from the effects of rigor mortis.

Herophilos wiped his hands on a linen cloth and then draped it over the head of a nearby statue of Apollo. “You may not want to watch this Apollo, I’m going to begin the dissection.” Among his many other duties, Apollo was the god of medicine. “Callimachus, would you hand me a scalpel?”

Callimachus appeared unmoved by the imminent spectacle. He had observed Herophilos’ dissections before, but this was a first for Archimedes. Callimachus was holding a candle and he hovered it over a table with bronze medical instruments. “Do you want the wide blade or narrow?”

“
Wide. This poor soul isn’t going to flinch much,” Herophilos said.

“
Must I stay for this?” Kafele asked. He wasn’t squeamish about blood, he saw it often enough with animal sacrifices. It was just that cutting into something as sacred as the human body offended his religious sense.

Herophilos was slicing through the leather toughness of the skin and first layers of muscle in the chest. “Go if you want. It was Ptolemy who told you to be here. Besides, I’ve got Callimachus and his curious student to assist.”

“
You may come with me young man,” Kafele said to Archimedes, “and get away from this slaughter. This is an affront to the gods. We already know what is killing these men.”

“
Slaughter?” Herophilos angrily asked Kafele. “This man is dead. He is already with the gods. You Egyptians didn’t even know the brain was the center of human intellect. It was through my examinations that I discovered the brain controls the senses. You butchers throw the brain to the cats during your mummification! Slaughter. By Apollo, what do you call your mummification?”

Kafele did not answer. He looked at Archimedes. “Would you like to leave this unholy place with me?”

“
No sir,” Archimedes answered politely. He understood Kafele was only following the beliefs of his culture. When Archimedes told Berenike he had some background in medicine, it was only from scrolls and lectures from his teachers. Not many people truly understood, and fewer ever saw, the inside of the human body. Like Kafele believed, it was up to the gods to know what was going on underneath our skin.

Kafele bowed slightly and left.

“
You were right to stay, Archimedes,” Herophilos said. He bent over and continued his cutting. “Callimachus said you were a scientist and liked to work on machines. Well, step over here and examine what few men are courageous enough to learn. The human body is the world’s most marvelous machine.”

Archimedes hesitantly took two steps. He wasn’t within touching distance, but he could hear the scalpel make a scratching sound as it sliced through the layers of rigid muscle. The cold, pale body glistened from olive oil that was rubbed on it to keep it from drying and decaying. As Archimedes neared, the smell became more intense. It was a heavy, sweet smell he would never forget.

“
The tongue and eyes do not suggest any poisoning,” Herophilos said, “as best I can determine from this state of decay. There are no cuts or broken bones, no snake bites on his legs. Thank Apollo that Ptolemy finally let you bring a body here instead of giving it to that fool Ptahhotep. Those babbling priests would be showing the dead man their collection of amulets.”

Herophilos handed the scalpel back to Callimachus. “Bone saw.” Callimachus passed a bronze saw with a wooden handle. Herophilos took a half step back and began to saw through the soft cartilage of the rib cage. Chunks of cartilage flew up with the rapid motion of the toothed blade and landed on Archimedes’ tunic. He quickly brushed it off. Herophilos handed the saw back to Callimachus.

There was a cracking sound as Herophilos grunted and pulled apart the rib cage. Archimedes nearly gagged at the sound of the ribs splintering and the sight of the internal organs. There were dark tubes, a purple slab, and two pink bladders that looked like the jellyfish that washed up on the shores of Syracuse. It was all tightly crowded together as if the man’s torso were a chest that was packed for a voyage.

“
Observe the wonder of the human body, Archimedes. Callimachus has seen this magnificent machine before. But you are entering a world few men are privileged to enter.”

Herophilos picked up two candles. He handed one to Archimedes and the other he held over the splayed chest. A moist, repulsive smell of death came over Archimedes. He suppressed an urge to vomit, but his watering eyes betrayed his nauseous stomach. He thought about his first couple of days aboard the
Calypso
.

“
Don’t look at it like a squeamish girl; you’ll throw up if you lose your sense of admiration. It’s science at its purist, Archimedes. You’re witnessing a miracle we all carry with us, but few are bold enough to explore.”

Archimedes took a deep, slow breath and stepped up to the dissected body.
It’s a machine, made by the gods
, he thought.
It’s a machine inside of me.
He took it all in and absorbed the miracle of life. He saw the gods’ greatest accomplishment, and admiration slowly replaced the nausea.

It was no longer a jumble of jellyfish and shining slabs. Instead, the body presented his mind with a challenge. What did each organ do? How did they synchronize to sustain life? Were the parts interchangeable, like the gears in his computer?

Callimachus was studying Archimedes and knew what was going through his mind. “Yes, Archimedes, you can touch them.”

“
Go ahead,” Herophilos added, “he won’t mind.”

Archimedes cautiously probed different organs with his finger. It was no longer fear that restrained him, but a lingering reverence that he shared with Kafele, the departed priest. The organs were soft and clammy, like an octopus he once found when he was swimming. Eventually he stopped at a dark purple organ that was shaped like a large triangular seed.

“
Excellent choice,” Herophilos said. He handed his candle to Archimedes and used his free hand to carefully cup the purple organ. Two thick tubes came out of the top of it and disappeared into the complex mass of organs.

‘
What is this, Callimachus?” Herophilos asked. It was as if the doctor were giving Callimachus a lesson on anatomy.

“
The heart,” Callimachus answered.

“
Yes, the heart!” Herophilos repeated excitedly. “It is a pump, pushing and pulling blood throughout the body. Doctors used to think the heart pumped air. They called it
pneumatics
, meaning ‘of the wind’. They thought the heart would contract and pump air. But then what about blood? Why would we bleed so intensely when we’re cut?”

“
These,” he pointed to two large, pink organs that enveloped each side of the heart, “are lungs. They fill with the air you breathe and pass that air throughout your body. I bet you didn’t even think where the air went that you suck in thousands of times each day.”

“
I do remember reading,” Archimedes said, “that Aristotle thought the lungs filled with air in order to cool the heart.”

“
Bah,” Herophilos fumed. “We should thank Zeus that Aristotle didn’t teach Alexander the Great battle tactics!”

Callimachus gave a slight chuckle. “Ironic that Alexander said, ‘I am dying with the help of too many physicians.’ ”

Archimedes remembered the quote was attributed to Alexander on his last days in Babylon. His doctors were frantically trying to keep him alive from an unknown illness that was slowly killing him. It was commonly thought he contracted a fever during his campaign in India. Archimedes thought of Berenike’s murder theory and wondered if Meti included that quote in his scroll.

“
If you two philosophers want to dig up Aristotle and have him finish this autopsy,” Herophilos bristled, “then drag this corpse out of here and you can have two dead men help you.”

“
Our apologies, Herophilos,” Callimachus consoled. “We look to Aristotle for inspiration and to you for information.”

“
Then I suggest you shut your mouth and keep your tongue warm,” Herophilos huffed. “These tubes,” he said while carefully setting the heart back and tracing along the tubes, “are blood vessels. This one is the artery and it carries blood out of the heart. This other one is the vein and it brings blood back. The heart is a pump that moves liquids; the lungs are a bellows that move air. But you are a scientist, Archimedes, and learn best by demonstration.”

On the
Calypso
Archimedes demonstrated to Farrokh how a simple pulley worked. He remembered explaining his mechanical computer to the teachers at the school. Now he was observing a machine infinitely more complex than a pulley or bronze gears. Hephaestus made the automaton Talos, but what could possibly be inside it to match the sophistication of this?

Herophilos asked Callimachus for the narrow scalpel, took the tube he pointed out earlier as an artery and neatly sliced it. It was not the harsh grating sound that came from the hardened muscles, but rather a soft hiss like cutting through rope. Herophilos handed the scalpel back to Callimachus and said, “Observe.”

He held the shortened artery in his right hand and the heart in his left. He squeezed the heart and a jet of dark red blood spurted out, splatting thickly on the man’s neck. The blood did not run like water, but crawled like a scarlet slug.

“
The human heart is a tireless pump. It sucks in blood through that tube and pumps it out this one. The flow is controlled by small valves that close off the supply so the blood keeps traveling in one direction. That’s why the study of anatomy is so important Archimedes,” Herophilos said solemnly as he put the heart back. “We use science to learn facts, the concrete, rather than hope the gods provide us a clue by burning noxious incense or dangling graven talismans.”

Archimedes checked to make sure his owl amulet was safely tucked behind his tunic.

“
The man’s heart seems normal. But my forte, as Callimachus knows, is the human brain. If you have time Archimedes, we can crack his skull like a walnut and show you what gives man a soul. Your friend Aristotle thought the heart was the center of intellect. He should have stuck with philosophy and left anatomy to scientists. The brain controls your thinking, movements, and sight. It’s how I was able to help Ajax, Callimachus’ brother.”

Archimedes nearly dropped both candles. He quickly glanced over to Callimachus. “Ajax is your brother?”

Callimachus straightened. “Ajax is my older brother.” He set the candle down on the instrument table and wiped his hands with a towel. “I do not tell many people because that is what Ajax wishes. He wants his privacy and no pity.” Callimachus walked away and stood facing the lengthening shaft of sunlight.

“
He was a hoplite in the Spartan army,” Callimachus said. “After the death of Alexander the Great, there was turmoil in Greece and Macedon. The Gauls to the north sensed weakness and carried out a series of invasions into Greece. When the Gauls got into central Greece, a coalition of Greek armies met them at Thermopylae, the narrow pass that King Leonidas defended with his 300 Spartans nearly 200 years ago. The Greeks, with Ajax among them, fought the Gauls valiantly, but had to retreat. Ajax was struck in the back of his head with a sword and nearly died. The injury caused him to go blind. I brought him here, so Herophilos could look at him and see what he could do.”

“
Ajax is a true Spartan—resilient and tough.” Herophilos said. “Any other man would have died from that head wound. That sword stroke cut through his helmet and into the back of his cranium. A skull fragment was lodged in the back of his brain.” Herophilos grasped the head of the corpse and turned it slightly. It wasn’t easy, because the body was stiffened from death. “Eyesight, if you can believe it Archimedes, is controlled in the back of the brain.”