I close my eyes and let out a long sigh. I would have preferred nukes...
"Nothing, beyond what has been hinted at in the news of a weapon under development. This is the first I've ever heard of scriff personal disintegration missiles."
"I do, however, know an important thing about Scriff. It is very likely what you think this substance does that has the gods so worried about the state of things. In another world, in another time, I was contaminated by Scriff. As I understand it, it caused me to travel between dimensions to another universe entirely. It has happened several times, which is how I came to be in your world. I suggest we talk with the weapon development team immediately, unless you have further questions."
A middle-aged well-built black man in military uniform rises and moves rapidly toward the podium. He asks if you will please give him the mic, but it is a perfunctory courtesy and he is quickly leaning into it.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I must first ask that nothing that has been said in this room be repeated, or particularly reported, outside it. Scriff and the Scriff Personnel Distintegrator Missiles are classified technologies, and any report of this in the press will be considered an act of treason. I must second request that the Senate security remove any and all person not having clearance to discuss such top secret weapons systems, saving for our divine messenger and his holy companions."
Assuming you cooperate with this, the numbers of persons in the hall will be reduced by about a third, and particularly many of those with various recording devices will be removed. The officer then continues.
"As many of you know, many years ago during our nuclear experimentation we discovered a substance called scriff. The nuclear weapons we developed were of little use in our ongoing wars, as the Azmayincans particularly but also the Mongolchin were able to neutralize these by some method we have still not identified. However, accidents with scriff revealed that it had a potentially useful property of destabilizing molecular bonds, such that the injection of this substance into an organism followed immediately by a relatively small electrical shock caused the molecules to incohere, the complete and total disintegration of the organism, without significant release of nuclear energy. After over a century of research we still do not understand how scriff manages to destroy matter without releasing energy; but we have determined that we can harness this characteristic in relatively small projectiles containing a small quantity of scriff, a penetrating point, and a charged capacitor, to distintegrate target creatures. It is not foolproof, but it is quite effective.
"I understand that there have always been concerns about the unanswered questions. However, we need this technology if we are ever to defeat our enemies and fulfill our god-given destiny as rulers of the universe.
"As head of the project, I can assure you that whatever safety concerns have been raised have been addressed. Certainly weapons are dangerous, and people have been killed during the research, but that is always the case with the development of weapons technology. I do not believe we should abandon the project; it is the best hope we have at this time for a weapon that will destroy our enemies."
He steps back but stays on the podium.
--M. J. Young
I lean in to the mic, or if barred from that, talk loud enough to be heard.
"Despite the General's eloquent speech, he has not addressed the fact that nearly all the gods I polled expressed the sentiment that Rome was making a dire mistake and should cease-and-desist before knowing more."
The general is courteous and makes no effort to impede your ability to address the senators. He does, however, respond.
"I note that our guest mentioned among those gods that he queried Mars, our Emperor's preferred patron--who far from suggesting that the project be stopped told him he should help us complete it. If he has information concerning the properties of scriff, perhaps he should come speak with our project scientists about it. I personally find his claim that scriff has enabled him to travel between universes highly suspect, but men of science keep open minds on such matters, and perhaps his experience will guide us in creating a more effective weapon."
--M. J. Young
"I freely acknowledge Mars' opinion - I am merely the messenger - but I point out that, favoured by the Emperor or not, Mars is but one of the gods. I have no problem with discussing the nature of Scriff with Rome's scientists, but it is the people of Rome who should seriously consider whether they want their scientists to continue work on a weapon that many of their gods are obviously opposed to."
"And why would the gods be opposed to such a weapon, and Mars support the same? Could it be that Mars is the only god who is truly supportive of our ongoing efforts to defeat the Azmayincans and the Mongolchin, and so he is giving us this gift? Could it be that the other gods are jealous of the attention our Emperor lavishes on Mars in exchange for his support of our war effort, and so they wish for us to fail? The Scriff Personnel Disintegrator Missiles have already demonstrated the ability to cause not merely the death but the total annihilation of an animal target, complete with associated equipment. We need a weapon that can work against our enemies on their own grounds, and this might be it. If Jupiter himself wishes for us to abandon this weapon, I must know why, because Mars assures us that this is a weapon which will finally make a difference in our struggles."
--M. J. Young
"If I were the General, I would be careful before accusing the gods of being jealous towards mere mortals. Does he not remember the stories of Arachne's pride in her weaving or Actaeon's fateful mistake of spying on Diana?"
"But the General asks an excellent question. Why do the gods oppose the weapon when Mars supports it? Why would the General take the word of only one god? Mars has dominion over only war. The people of Rome require more than just war in their lives - they fall in love, they have family and children, they build and create, they require wisdom. Would you seek the boons of Mars to help your pregnant wife? To write a magnificent play? To build a bridge? Rome needs all of the gods, equally, just as they need the Senate to provide a well-rounded debate on issues."
"The Scriff Missiles may be weapons, and therefore in the domain of Mars, but war affects all parts of the lives of Rome. Vulcan should be consulted in building it. Minerva should be consulted as to the wisdom of using it. Jupiter should be consulted on the affect on the people of Rome. Juno should be consulted on how it will affect your children. Pluto should be consulted on how it will affect the Underworld. Priests should be involved, not just generals. The people should be involved, not just the Emperor."
The general moves toward the mic, but the elderly senator who raised the initial question is back on his feet, and the general is silenced for the moment.
"Enough," the senator says. "We have a dilemma, a weapon which the god of war assures us will aid our victory, and a consensus of the gods that it is not a good thing for us to pursue. I do not understand why it would not be valuable for us, nor do I understand why if it has no value Mars would encourage its use. However, we have before us someone who claims to be familiar with what we thought was a top secret substance; and more, that he knows of it from another world, and that by means of it he has come here. I know nothing of any experiments in using scriff to teleport between worlds, nor any indication that it had such properties. It sounds to me like much more research must be done.
"Messenger--that is all we were given to call you, should we call you that?--I will take your words to the Emperor myself; it may be that he will listen to an old but well-respected man who has always had Rome in his heart. I do not know whether you can prove your story, but I would like you to visit those working on this project, to see what they are doing, what they have done, what they have discovered, and perhaps show them what is wrong with their concepts. General, will you see to that?"
"Yes, your honor, if the Messenger is willing."
--M. J. Young
"Monsieur Messenger will be fine. I am willing to meet your scientists."
"Excellent. See to our guests needs, introduce him to the project, and let us see what he can contribute to our knowledge of this mysterious scriff substance."
"But--" the general begins.
"Do I need to put it to a vote? All in favor?"
There is a resounding chorus of support.
"Opposed?"
There is a rather weak response.
"I don't believe we need a count. General, I expect your full cooperation."
"Yes Senator Aurelius."
"Is there any other business for our attention today?" the senator continues, and it appears that the matter involving you is finished. His Swiftness and the priestess of Hera both shake your hand in a congratulatory fashion, and wish you the best in your efforts. The general appears to have accepted the burden of taking you to the project, however grudgingly. Another man approaches, apparently a servant.
"I'm to make certain you have whatever assistance you need; I've been assigned to you for the present. The Senate will cover the reasonable expenses of your visit with us, Messenger."
--M. J. Young
"Great. First thing I need is to arrange the continuation of my Latin language lessons." I tell him where I'm staying so he can arrange to get my stuff.
"If you are comfortable where you are, we can arrange transportation by car and transmat to the base; if you would rather be closer to the project, we can arrange quarters for you there. What is this about instruction in Latin?"
--M. J. Young
"I'm comfortable where I am, thank you. I take Latin lessons every other day for a half-day. Since I am not from your world I am using artificial means to communicate with you and it is proving to be somewhat unreliable. When can I expect my driver to show up?"
"I am here to serve you. If you wish to go now, we can go now; if you wish to go after lunch, we can do that; if you wish to go tomorrow, that will be arranged. I will have to schedule you for transmat, but you have senate priority so others will be bumped for you. It would be better, though, if we give them more notice, that is, if we let them schedule for us instead of waving our priority every time."
--M. J. Young
"Let's go tomorrow afternoon to give them time to prepare for my arrival. Let's go for lunch and I'll arrange for my Latin lesson for this afternoon or tomorrow morning."
The servant agrees with your plan, and gives some instructions before leaving with you.
His first question is where you would like to eat.
His second question is, if for some reason you suddenly lose the ability to speak Latin, what should he do?
--M. J. Young
For lunch, I describe the cafe where I made it rain on my first day in Rome.
"If I lose the ability to speak Latin, you should:
1. not panic,
2. speak to me in English or French."
I will contact the language teacher and do my regular stuff until going to the base. I will make sure to have a couple of language potions on my person at all times.
He has heard of French, the barbaric language once spoken in Gaul; he has never heard of English. He does not know any French, but believes there are some about who still speak it. At least, he says, he'll know who to seek if there is a communications failure.
He knows a few cafes that fit the description you give, but with a couple of questions manages to narrow it down to two, and guesses correctly the right one. Did you have any particular reason for preferring this location?
--M. J. Young
Not really - just got Venus' prophesy in mind.
The cafe is crowded, but you do not see anyone you know today. It was later in the day the last time you were here, and less busy. However, the food here is good, and you have help navigating the choices, so you eat well.
Then he asks who teaches you and where you take your lessons, so you can go meet with the instructor and make arrangements for the next one.
--M. J. Young
I tell him.
The translator is able to meet with you tomorrow around the fourth hour, which by now you would recognize as roughly ten in the morning. That will have you free in time to catch an early lunch and transmat over to the lab around noon.
What else do you need or intend to do today?
--M. J. Young
I will collect some of my language potions and check on Hephalump. I will also drop by the temples to thank His Swiftness and the High Priestess of Juno for their help.
They still have Heph in isolation, being quite unsure about what might be "wrong" with her and unwilling to allow the other animals to be exposed. One of the keepers notices you, and asks whether it's all right with you if they do some testing, to figure out why she's so deformed.
She is quite a bit smaller and much different in shape from the African elephants in the zoo.
Their holinesses are pleased to have helped, and wish you the best in your efforts in the future.
His Swiftness questions you. "There was talk of something called a Scriff Disintegrator. I had the impression that it was not what you expected, but that you had an idea what that was. I've never heard of any such thing. I realize that it is probably some top secret military device, but clearly you knew something of it without having breached their secrets. Can you explain it to me?"
--M. J. Young
To the keeper:
"I assure you that she is quite healthy. I would prefer if you did not stress her without reason. If you must reassure yourself that she is not contagious, then by all means, but nothing invasive."
I will then ask my guide to make sure that Rome pays for Heph's comfortable upkeep and have him prove that Heph and I are in the government's care and to carry out my requests.
To His Swiftness:
"I wish that I could explain it to you. Apparently scriff is some kind of state secret but all I really know is that I am infected by scriff and it is this that causes me to travel through dimensions. That's all I know and even if I did, I promised I wouldn't reveal any secret information. We will be in touch."
I'm ready to go to the war machine.
Are you going to define what you mean by "invasive", or let them define it according to their own notions?
His Swiftness thanks you for the explanation.
You've had your Latin lesson for the day, and are now at the transmat terminal. It is a private terminal, tied into a military and government network, but even so your companion has to produce identification and enter the destination coding into it. He then steps into a booth and indicates for you and pixie to do the same.
"It might be better for your monkey to be next to you rather than on your shoulder during the transfer. Molecular restructuring is more stable if individuals are discrete in the coding."
--M. J. Young
The zookeeper can take her temperature but that's as far as they go.
"Wait a minute! I thought a Transmat was one of those floating busses! Is this a teleporting machine? That's pretty awesome!"
I do as he says. And cross my fingers. Then spread them as wide apart as possible!
You feel the molecules of your body tingle, and then you feel something familiar--very like versing out.
Then you find yourself adrift, seeing your body from the outside. It goes fuzzy, and you have the feeling of hurtling through nothingness. There seem to be other people--possibly people--standing around as you rush through their midst.
Ahead you see your body, fuzzy but becoming solid. There are a number of people--and at this point you realize that you're using the word somewhat loosely, as they are not all human--floating around it, examining it.
You rush into it, and open your eyes. You are in a similar room as the one you were a moment ago, but the colors are different and there are some differences in the arrangements.
"Welcome, Monsieur Messenger. I'm the Base Commander, Legionaire Lucas de Corinth. My men call me 'Commander', and my superiors 'de Corinth'. What do I call you?"
--M. J. Young
"Monsieur Messenger will be fine. Monsieur if you're in a hurry."
So, is there only de Corinth in the room, or a similar number of people that I saw examining me during the teleport?
There are a couple of technicians, dressed in military garb but obviously working the equipment, and the commanding officer is accompanied by some sort of attendants, two of them, and your guide has also arrived. Otherwise the room is empty.
"Centurion Andronicus de Londinium here has been assigned to help you get oriented to our facilities. He can answer most of your questions, or at least find the people who can. Make yourself as comfortable as the facilities permit, and do not hesitate to ask for me if there's any problem. Gentlemen."
He leaves, one of the attendants with him. The other, apparently the Centurion, addresses you. "Where would you like to begin?"
--M. J. Young
Well, I'll address the oddity of the strange inhuman figures during transmat later.
"At the beginning, I suppose. So that was Transmat, eh? How reliable is it? Do you ever have problems with it?"
I'll carry on that conversation if they give me some responses.
Then, "I guess we should talk to the scientists and engineers working on the Scriff Disentegration Missile project."
"Well, there are accidents, rarely. Of course, we train our operators, and there's always someone with years of experience and training overseeing all operations, and no one operates human transmats who has not had years of work on cargo systems. Also, rarely people come through crazy, but these are usually people who were borderline initially, and the priests do a decent job dealing with such problems. You'd have to ask them about these."
You are brought to the main lab. Andronicus introduces you. "This is Messenger. He has come to see what we are doing, and to tell us something about it, although he needs to ask some questions. Show him the device."
There is only a momentary hesitation, and then you are handed what appears to be a high-tech bullet. It takes only a minute for you to comprehend what it is and what it does.
The tip of the projectile is pointed and hard, designed to pierce outer coverings and particularly skin. Behind it is an ampule containing a gold metallic liquid which looks like what the Architect described as Scriff; the ampule is some sort of plastic or glass, designed to withstand the force of acceleration but to shatter on impact. Behind that are two electrodes tied to a capacitor, which in turn is charged by contacts on the rear of the projection. It appears to use an electric rail gun type of accelerator, which minimizes impact on the ampule during acceleration but requires a longer barrel than a simple explosive driven delivery system might.
In short, the bullet penetrates the skin of the target, dumps scriff into it, and hits the victim with an electrical jolt.
"Would you like to see it work? We've got some test animals in the animal room up the hall."
--M. J. Young
I roll the bullet around in my palm and say, "I would certainly NOT like to see it work! I am called Messenger because my role here is that of Messenger of the Gods."
I hold up the bullet and slosh around the gold liquid for them. "This! This what I call Scriff and Vulcan refers to as metal that is not metal and fire that is not fire. It deals what Vulcan sucinctly calls death that is not death. I have been infected by this substance. It did not kill me. Instead, at the time of what would be my death, I simply travel suddenly to another dimension, another universe, another world. You are not killing the barbarians, you are simply sending them to the next world. Jupiter has told me to tell you that in this you are making a big mistake."
As you hold the device, the gold liquid moves out of level, as if drawn toward you.
They stare at you in silence for nearly a full minute.
Then one of the techs says, "So what's the problem? I mean, what's the difference, whether we send them to Hades or send them to some other world? They're out of our world, aren't they?"
"The difference," one of the senior men answers, "is that the soldiers we think we're killing are carrying their weapons and their goals into other battlefields, battlefields where we cannot reach them--and perhaps too, that those of our people who have died here in accidents related to the research are in those worlds, soon to be badly outnumbered by the enemy troops we will be sending against them."
There is again a brief silence, and then another researcher speaks.
"But how do we know he's right? How can we even test such a theory?"
Scrunching his brow, the elder seems to be exploring this.
"Well, he knows quite a bit about scriff already, and I don't see how he can know this unless he learned it somewhere outside our control or the gods told him. He's obviously not Azmayincan, and he's equally clearly not Mongolchin, and anyway our Senators and priests are persuaded that he is not a spy. We should thus consider that he may well have this knowledge from being a victim of a similar weapon elsewhere, in this other universe he claims to know. So that gives credibility to his account."
"It does not prove it, though," the third man says. "If the Mongolchin somehow had learned of our weapon, and wished to derail the program, what better way to do so than to send a spy who could pass for one of us? We know that they have science we do not understand, and we cannot be certain they could not alter one of their own to look like someone from our provinces."
"That is a lot of presumption," the elder says. "However, given that we are very near the technology to disguise our people as theirs, and we are improving our satelite surveilance systems to the point that we can see much that they believe is hidden from us, it would not be safe to assume they cannot do the same."
He turns to you.
"Not to cast aspersions on your character or honesty," he says, "but, can you prove what you claim?"
--M. J. Young
"I bear the words of the Gods. Disregard them at your peril. I do not know what proof you require but I'm sure you can detect that I do indeed contain Scriff, as does Pixie here, and my belongings. You see how the scriff in this projectile is attracted to me - I am similarly attracted to it. I can accurately detect the Scriff in my belongings regardless of where they are. I do not know if this is proof enough for you, but I would be happy to demonstrate."
If they want a magic show, I'll give them one. I'll unbuckle my spiked collar and have them put it wherever they want - even transmatting it somewhere - and I will point directly at it. Other than that, I doubt I could produce any thing or information that would be considered "proof".
You call attention to the scriff in the vial, and one of the scientists reacts.
"I've never seen it do that before," he says. "We've seen that it tends to draw itself together, but it's never been attracted to anything but itself. Any you say the monkey is the same?" He takes the bullet and holds it near Pixie. "Indeed, it seems that you both have this affinity to the scriff, unlike anyone here."
The room goes silent for almost a full minute. It's clear everyone is thinking about the ramifications of your statements.
--M. J. Young
"Well, while you're all puzzling that one out (and I don't think I have to remind you again that most of your gods think this scriff weapon idea is a big mistake), could someone tell me about these barbarians and why you need to develop this weapon in the first place?"
They look at each other. The one in charge says, "Marc, I think that's probably your job; anyway, you probably know best."
A man in his forties nods. "Come on, Messenger; I'll buy you a cup of tea and we can talk in the cafeteria."
Of course, the tea in the cafeteria is free, and they don't have any blends that you know, but it's still tea.
"Two millennia ago, a bit more, Rome rose from obscurity to an empire. The gods told us our destiny was to rule the world, and charged us to fulfill it--and for the first few centuries, Rome advanced, south through to the tip of Africa, north to the northernmost land masses of Europe, west across the ocean to Iceland, and East into Persia and to the mountains in the north. During this time, the gods blessed our scientific and technological advances, and favored us with their magicks, so that we were, and indeed still are, the most advanced people in the world.
"Then we were stopped. To the east of us there was a great empire, the Mongol-Chin alliance. There technology seems primitive--they have gunpowder and steam engines. Yet they have some way of fighting against our weapons, of making our best technologies ineffective. Atomic weapon guidance systems went haywire, and the bombs themselves failed to detonate.
"We thought they were using magic against us, but our priests and wizards were unable to work any but the simplest magicks in their lands, and could not duplicate what was being done against us. The battle has held on roughly the same boundary for over a millennium now--when they cross into our lands, we can defeat them with our superior weapons, but when we pursue them into theirs, whatever force it is that disables our systems takes away our advantage. Meanwhile, they are able to attack us with powers unlike anything we know, as long as we are in their realms. Why they do not use these powers against us in our realms, we do not understand.
"Our generals thought perhaps the defenses were established along the border, and so launched an ambitious campaign to send ships around the world to attack them from the other side. That was when we encountered the Azmayincans. There had been skirmishes in the past, but we had always assumed that it was the Mongolchin we were fighting. There was, we discovered, a third great empire in the world, holding sway over a previously unknown continent and its surrounding islands. These were, if anything, even more primitive in their science than the Mongolchin; yet they were far advanced in magic, doing powerful things unknown to our priests, things we thought impossible and still have not understood nor mastered. They use this power even to travel in space and explore other planets, which we have only reached with our rockets and hyperdrive engines. They also have the power to neutralize our machines, to an even greater degree than the Mongolchin.
"The Azmayincans and the Mongolchin also believe it is their destiny to rule the entire world. It is perhaps fortunate for us that they are also fighting each other, for were they to ally against us they would have the resources between them to finish us for certain. Our safety, our future, lies in conquering Terra, but they have proven to be formiddable enemies against whom we have no truly effective weapons.
"I realize this must be difficult for someone from outside the created world; but I can try to explain if you tell me what you don't understand."
--M. J. Young
Oooh, sounds to me like this world's gods are bending the rules a bit.
"Really, you've explored other planets? Which ones? Have you encountered the Azmayincans on these planets, and if so, do they retain their effective defences against you?"
"We've sent manned and unmanned probes to all the planets, moons, and larger asteroids of Sol, and established a few working colonies out there. We've also sent exploratory missions to the ten nearest stars, using hyperdrive engines, and found planets around them, but no life forms. We've done some terraforming, but it's slow going even with the blessings of the priests on the plant life.
"Yes, the Azmayincans and the Mongolchin are out there, and that's also strange, because they don't have space ships of the sort we've used. Our astronauts report seeing the Mongolchin seated in a circle, as if praying together, on simple wooden platforms surrounded by some sort of force shield and traveling with some unknown propulsion system; and as to the Azmayincans, they seem to walk through space, but as blurred images traveling thousands of miles with each step. Then we find that we cannot overcome their settlements--we have the same problems when we attack them out there that we do down here--but they still are unable to bring their weapons and defenses to bear effectively against us when we are in our ships or our colonies. They, too, have been terraforming areas, but they use techniques our scientists have not been able to fathom. The Azmayincans, in particular, have been able to create tiny patches of lush jungle on otherwise barren hostile worlds. We would love to know how they do this, but of course they are our enemies and certainly not interested in sharing their secrets."
--M. J. Young