Trolley to Yesterday (14 page)

"That must be the thingamajig that gave us all that trouble," whispered Fergie.

"It is indeed," the head muttered, a trace of amusement in its voice. "Please have a nice day."

The boat drifted closer to the flight of stone steps. With a sudden lunge Fergie reached out and grabbed an iron ring that was bolted to the bottom step, and he pulled the boat tight against the landing. Nimbly the professor hopped out with the valise in his hand. Johnny threw the sword up onto the steps, and then he clambered out too. Fergie went last, as the other two held the boat close for him. As quickly as they could, they scrambled up the steps. The professor tugged at the door's iron handle, and with a lot of ominous creaking and groaning, it swung wide. The light of Fergie's torch showed the start of a winding stone staircase. They started climbing. The darkness gave way to faint daylight, and they began to hear noises—yelling and the clash of arms, and in the distance the booming of a great cannon.

"My lord!" gasped the professor as he paused and tried to catch his breath. "It doesn't sound good at all!" He struggled to the top of the stairs.

At last they came out into bright daylight in a room at the top of a tall stone tower. The tower was built into the inner line of the city's walls, and from its windows Johnny and the others could see a battle raging below them. The Sultan's great cannon had battered a wide hole in the outer walls, and through this gap thousands of soldiers were streaming in. The professor turned pale. He had read a lot about the siege of Constantinople, and he knew what was happening. This was the final attack. Before long the city would be in the hands of looting, angry, bloodthirsty men. Panicked, the professor led the boys out through an arch onto a broad walkway that ran along the top of the inner walls. Then the three of them stopped dead and stared in horror. Running along the wall toward them was a yelling mob of Turkish soldiers. And in the lead, waving a flashing sword, was Baltoghlu, their old enemy.

 

 

 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 

 

"Merciful heavens!" exclaimed the professor, putting his hand over his face. "I was hoping he was dead or in some other part of the battlefield. Ah well, if at first you don't succeed ..."

The howling soldiers were getting closer. Baltoghlu saw the professor and the boys, and his eyes flashed angrily. This time there would be no mercy! As the boys watched in alarm, the professor calmly knelt down on the stone walkway. Digging his hand into the valise, he came up with a big cluster of Chinese firecrackers. Taking out his Nimrod lighter, he waited till the soldiers were only a few yards away. Then he lit the fuse and threw the firecrackers, which landed at Baltoghlu's feet. A long ripping string of small explosions filled the air, and clouds of acrid smoke rose. Then, while the soldiers wavered, the professor took his second weapon from the bag. It looked like a gray beer can with a lever on top. Quickly he released the catch and threw the tear-gas bomb. As clouds of eye-watering smoke shot from the little can, he snatched up his valise and yelled to the boys, who stood cowering in the doorway of the tower room.

"That ought to take care of them for a while!" the professor roared triumphantly. "Come on! There's a staircase over there, and it leads down to the ground. We've got to run while there's time!"

They clattered down the stone steps and ran madly away from the city walls. Behind them the loud frightening noise of battle went on. When they had run as far as they could, they threw themselves down behind a hedge that grew near a dusty little road. The professor squinted up at the sky. Then he smiled and turned to the boys.

"Relax, gentlemen!" he said. "As far as I can tell, it's only a little past noon, and the Turks won't be able to smash their way through the defenders until about four in the afternoon. I was panicked when I saw all those soldiers pouring through that gap in the walls, but I remember the details of the siege quite clearly, and I'm sure I'm right."

Fergie glanced sourly at the professor. "Well, whoopy-doo for your memory!" he said. "So what about old Balto-whosis, the guy with only one eye and a lousy temper? There were a lot of soldiers with him, weren't there?"

The professor smiled confidently. "You needn't worry about Baltoghlu and his friends," he said. "They are due to be trapped and wiped out by some of the Emperor's soldiers. You see? If you read history you know what's going to happen... or rather, you know what happened at one time."

Johnny sighed wearily and mopped his forehead with his sleeve. "Professor?" he said. "How are we gonna get something to eat? I feel like I'm starving to death."

"Say no more!" exclaimed the professor, holding up his hand imperiously. Digging his hand into the battered old leather satchel, the professor came up with a box of Mounds bars. He handed one to each boy, and they tore into them greedily. It had been a long time since they had had anything to eat.

"Nothing like chocolate for quick energy," muttered the professor as he wolfed down a Mounds bar. "Mmm... good! Now then, kiddies, we had better be up and going. From the position of the sun, I would say northeast is off that way. If we travel in that direction, we should run into the Great Middle Way, which runs straight through the heart of the city to the Church of the Holy Wisdom. Then—"

"Hey, wait a minute!" snapped Fergie. "Are you tryin' to tell us that you're gonna use the flare gun inside the church? Do you mean you've changed your mind
again?"

The professor sighed wearily and nodded. "I'm afraid so, Byron. The idea may seem idiotic to you, but it may be our only chance. It is much later than I thought. The city is surrounded. At this point we can't get a ship to take us to Leander's Tower. We might have done it a few days ago, but not now. We have to scare the soldiers of the Sultan into thinking that an Angel of Light has descended among them. If we can do that, we might just possibly get back home safe and sound."

Johnny munched another candy bar and glanced at Fergie. The look on his friend's face showed how they both felt—they were filled with despair. The professor's plan seemed just as wacky as it ever had, and they were sure it would fail. But they had to go to the church with him. If there was one chance in a million that his plan would succeed, they had to take it. There was no other choice.

After they had finished eating, they set off to find the Great Middle Way. They hiked through a field of weeds and an apple orchard. They passed a street of ruined stone houses whose windows stared out blankly at them, like the eyeholes of skulls. The little rutty cart track they were on was grass grown and deserted. Johnny and Fergie felt as if they were out in the country, instead of being in the heart of a great city. The professor pointed out that Constantinople had once been a bustling, crowded place, but in 1453 it was already half deserted. At last they came to a wide road paved with cobblestones.

"How far is it from here to the church?" asked Fergie.

"About two miles," said the professor. "You two have gone on ten- and fifteen-mile hikes in the Boy Scouts, so it shouldn't seem difficult. We'd better get moving if we're going to get to the church before the Sultan's soldiers do."

The three of them tramped down the wide, deserted road. In the distance they heard church bells ringing, and far behind them the sounds of the battle that was raging at the city walls. Once a group of soldiers went thundering by on horseback, raising clouds of yellow dust. Steadily, grimly, they hiked. They passed through the Forum of Theodosius, a broad open area full of statues and temples. No one was there. The people of Constantinople were either on the walls fighting or in the churches praying. At last they saw the great domed Church of the Holy Wisdom before them. A strange droning sound rose from it. It was the sound of worshipers chanting, praying desperately for the safety of their city. Fergie and Johnny looked up in awe. They had read about the siege in books, and they had seen pictures of the church. And here they were—scared half to death.

For a long time they just stood in the middle of the road and stared at the church. The professor heaved a weary sigh and mopped his face with his sleeve.

"Lord love a duck!" he groaned. "Now I know why the Romans had flat feet—they wore sandals all the time! My own feet feel as if they were being roasted over a fire, and my legs feel like rubber. Ah well, at least we're here! We had better head for the church. The sun is low in the sky, and that means that before long—"

The professor's voice died. He turned and looked down the long road, into the glare of the setting sun. From the distance came a sound like a football crowd on a Saturday afternoon—only this sound was more savage, and filled with shrill, bloodthirsty screeching.

"Oh, Lord!" gasped the professor. "It's the Turks! They've broken through, and they're coming! Come on, boys!
RUN!"

Hiking up the skirts of his robe, the professor ran frantically toward the front door of the church. Fergie pounded along beside him with the satchel, and Johnny ran with the sword over his shoulder. Closer and closer loomed the church, and they could see that men were struggling to close the tall bronze doors.
"No! No! Wait for us!"
yelled Johnny, and they ran faster. The men who were closing the doors stopped and stared at the three strange figures that were galloping toward them. The professor racked his brains, trying to find something he could say. Brewster was not here to translate, so he had to try to speak Greek. The professor had studied classical Greek in college, and he could say a few things in it. As he raced past the startled doorkeepers, he yelled,
"We are here to save you!"
in Greek. The men gaped, but they held the doors till all three were inside. Then they pulled the heavy bronze slabs inward till they shut with a loud, ominous
boom.
The professor and the boys were inside, but the enemy was at the gates.

 

 

 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

 

 

Inside the Church of the Holy Wisdom, a large crowd of people milled around. Most looked frightened, and many were on their knees, crossing themselves over and over and praying tearfully. Far overhead the vast dome loomed, and the red light of late afternoon slanted in through many small windows. Under the dome was the altar, and at it three priests in heavy, gold-colored robes chanted the service of vespers, the evening prayer of the Byzantine church. Countless candles and oil lamps burned in the gathering darkness, and the smell of incense hung in the air.

As quietly as possible the professor and the two boys made their way forward through the crowd. Some stared in wonder at the clothing of the two boys, but most were too filled with fear to notice what was going on around them. The professor glanced nervously around as he walked, and he felt despair growing inside him. For the first time he realized how silly and hopeless his plan was. It had seemed reasonable when he was sitting at home thinking about it, but it did not seem reasonable now. The chances of his plan working were just about zero. He and the boys would either be slaughtered or end up as slaves of the Turks.

With cheerful thoughts like these running through his mind, the professor elbowed his way past the praying people. He had to make it to the high altar before the Turks got in. Outside the great bronze gates they were bellowing like beasts, and thunderous crashes rang out.
Boommmm! BOOOMMMM!
A heavy log was hitting the doors, over and over. With the boys at his side the professor had reached the open space in front of the altar.
BOOOMMMM! BOOOMMMM!
The log struck the doors again, and with an ear-shattering crash the doors fell. The soldiers of the Sultan rushed in and at that moment the professor grabbed the valise from Fergie, dashed past the startled priests, and leaped onto the altar.

"Turn, demons, turn!"
he roared as he jammed a flare into the wide muzzle of the gun. "
I am an Angel of Light, and your doom has come!
" For a second the vast mob of soldiers paused in the doorway of the church. Then they started forward, and the professor closed his eyes, raised the gun, and fired it into the air. The fizzing flare shot up and burst just under the roof of the dome. A blinding flash of white light filled the air, and everyone in the church fell to the floor as if struck dead. Fergie and Johnny had closed their eyes just before the professor fired. They opened them. The Turkish soldiers were gone. The acrid smell of gunpowder drifted through the air, and for a moment all was silent. The people in the church got to their feet, and they started cheering. The professor stood there stunned for several seconds, and then he grinned and bowed. But just as he was stuffing the flare gun back into the valise, he heard a noise that he had dreaded. The Turkish soldiers had recovered, and they were coming back.

The professor was beside himself with rage and fear. He had a couple of flares left, but they would only postpone the moment of doom. "I should have known," he muttered to himself as he reloaded the flare gun. Just then he heard a
pinggg!
near his right shoulder, and a familiar raspy voice said, "Greetings! And what sort of idiotic mess have you gotten yourself into
this
time?"

The professor didn't know whether to rant or cheer. "Brewster!" he spluttered. "Where... Look, there's no time to talk. You can see what's happening!
Do
something!"

"I'll give it a try," said Brewster calmly. "Shall I do the big fancy once-in-a-thousand-years thing I told you about earlier?"

"Yes, yes, for God's sake YES!"
yelled the professor at the top of his voice.
"DO SOMETHING! PLEASE!"

"Very well," said Brewster.

The soldiers were pouring back into the church. Suddenly a loud voice filled the air. It was Brewster saying a spell in ancient Egyptian. An enormous black falcon appeared. Its head touched the top of the dome, and its outspread wings brushed the sides of the church. In a thunderous baritone it sang:

 

The bear went over the mountain