said.
Jonah continued. "Hypatia and Max found this place – were guided to it – and sat in the chairs, in the very chamber from which we just emerged. The two went back to 150 AD – where Max was killed, before Hypatia's eyes. His is the death she wishes with all of her soul to undo."
Synesius closed his eyes. "It is my impression that Hypatia desires more than one thing with all of her soul."
"Yes," Jonah said.
"And more than one man," Synesius said.
"Yes," Jonah said.
"This account of what happened in Londinium was given to you by Hypatia?" Synesius asked Jonah, and looked at Max, whose face was now unsmiling, impassive.
"No," Jonah replied. "But I know it to be true."
Synesius regarded Max. He obviously was very much alive, and, as far as Synesius could tell, in fit condition. "How–" Synesius began.
"It was exceedingly difficult," Jonah responded. "Max was apparently slain in Sierra's unmistakable sight. There was no manner in which we might have interceded at any time prior to this, without her seeing – and knowing – and that would have changed history. Again, with likely disastrous consequences."
Synesius struggled to understand.
Jonah spoke more slowly. "Fortunately, Sierra was rendered senseless – briefly – by a blow she received in the fighting. This gave us our opportunity. We gave her a potion which kept her deeply asleep for nearly a day. We took Max's body – gravely wounded, but still alive, by the standards of the future – to this time and place, and the physicians of this future worked their miracles upon him."
"I can accept that physicians of the future would seem miraculous in their results," Synesius said, "just as physicians in our Alexandria would no doubt seem miraculous to people in the time of Plato and Socrates."
Jonah nodded. "Yes, physicians of your time do seem wondrous in their ways, even to me."
"But if Max is evidently saved," Synesius said, and looked, again, at Max, "what then is the purpose of my visit, and indeed this very meeting?" Augustine of course had explained this to him, but Synesius wanted to hear Jonah's answer.
But Max was the one who spoke. "To save the Library of Alexandria," he said very slowly, in his peculiar Latin. "Neither of you can fully grasp the loss to humanity that the loss of those texts engendered. You are both of that time. But Sierra understands this – if what Jonah says is true. And I understand this. And we all must help her."
* * *
The food arrived. Synesius found it edible. He would have liked to spend more time in this future, see more of it, beyond this feasting room. But he was beginning to realize that was not likely. "Who else knows about Hypatia's goal?" he asked after consuming a cup of soft, creamy substance, of some unknown but not unpleasant flavor and consistency.
"Presumably not very many, other than the three of us at this table, and Augustine," Jonah began, "and this is very important. Changes we make in history must be discreet. We want as few people out of their times as possible. We want people in their times to know as little about people out of their times as possible–"
"Heron," Max said.
"Yes," Jonah said.
"Heron knows about all of this," Max said.
Jonah had talked to Max about Heron. "I am not sure what Heron knows," Jonah said.
"Heron?" Synesius asked.
"–of Alexandria," Max said. "Surely, you know of him."
"The great inventor?" Synesius asked.
Jonah and Max nodded.
"Heron is part of this – our – cohort?" Synesius asked. Augustine had set Synesius looking for Heron's scrolls in Alexandria, and Hypatia had also found Heron of great interest.
"Heron was my mentor in Alexandria many years ago – both many years ago in time, 150 AD, and many years ago, for me, personally," Jonah spoke, and Max nodded. "I came to know that the chair in which you sat in the chamber below, the chairs in which all of us have now traveled, were invented by the man known as Heron."
"Heron is not his true name?"
Jonah continued. "Hypatia and Max found this place – were guided to it – and sat in the chairs, in the very chamber from which we just emerged. The two went back to 150 AD – where Max was killed, before Hypatia's eyes. His is the death she wishes with all of her soul to undo."
Synesius closed his eyes. "It is my impression that Hypatia desires more than one thing with all of her soul."
"Yes," Jonah said.
"And more than one man," Synesius said.
"Yes," Jonah said.
"This account of what happened in Londinium was given to you by Hypatia?" Synesius asked Jonah, and looked at Max, whose face was now unsmiling, impassive.
"No," Jonah replied. "But I know it to be true."
Synesius regarded Max. He obviously was very much alive, and, as far as Synesius could tell, in fit condition. "How–" Synesius began.
"It was exceedingly difficult," Jonah responded. "Max was apparently slain in Sierra's unmistakable sight. There was no manner in which we might have interceded at any time prior to this, without her seeing – and knowing – and that would have changed history. Again, with likely disastrous consequences."
Synesius struggled to understand.
Jonah spoke more slowly. "Fortunately, Sierra was rendered senseless – briefly – by a blow she received in the fighting. This gave us our opportunity. We gave her a potion which kept her deeply asleep for nearly a day. We took Max's body – gravely wounded, but still alive, by the standards of the future – to this time and place, and the physicians of this future worked their miracles upon him."
"I can accept that physicians of the future would seem miraculous in their results," Synesius said, "just as physicians in our Alexandria would no doubt seem miraculous to people in the time of Plato and Socrates."
Jonah nodded. "Yes, physicians of your time do seem wondrous in their ways, even to me."
"But if Max is evidently saved," Synesius said, and looked, again, at Max, "what then is the purpose of my visit, and indeed this very meeting?" Augustine of course had explained this to him, but Synesius wanted to hear Jonah's answer.
But Max was the one who spoke. "To save the Library of Alexandria," he said very slowly, in his peculiar Latin. "Neither of you can fully grasp the loss to humanity that the loss of those texts engendered. You are both of that time. But Sierra understands this – if what Jonah says is true. And I understand this. And we all must help her."
* * *
The food arrived. Synesius found it edible. He would have liked to spend more time in this future, see more of it, beyond this feasting room. But he was beginning to realize that was not likely. "Who else knows about Hypatia's goal?" he asked after consuming a cup of soft, creamy substance, of some unknown but not unpleasant flavor and consistency.
"Presumably not very many, other than the three of us at this table, and Augustine," Jonah began, "and this is very important. Changes we make in history must be discreet. We want as few people out of their times as possible. We want people in their times to know as little about people out of their times as possible–"
"Heron," Max said.
"Yes," Jonah said.
"Heron knows about all of this," Max said.
Jonah had talked to Max about Heron. "I am not sure what Heron knows," Jonah said.
"Heron?" Synesius asked.
"–of Alexandria," Max said. "Surely, you know of him."
"The great inventor?" Synesius asked.
Jonah and Max nodded.
"Heron is part of this – our – cohort?" Synesius asked. Augustine had set Synesius looking for Heron's scrolls in Alexandria, and Hypatia had also found Heron of great interest.
"Heron was my mentor in Alexandria many years ago – both many years ago in time, 150 AD, and many years ago, for me, personally," Jonah spoke, and Max nodded. "I came to know that the chair in which you sat in the chamber below, the chairs in which all of us have now traveled, were invented by the man known as Heron."
"Heron is not his true name?"
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