"I begin to see," said Bulnes. "Vasil thinks Periklean Athens was a high point in civilization. If Perikles — that is, himself in an earlier incarnation — hadn't made some errors of judgment and hadn't died at a critical time, it would have gone on getting better and better. So, he thinks, why not re-create it by means of the conditioning machine his scientists have developed, and run the picture over with himself playing Perikles? This time, however, he'll profit by the experience of the real Perikles. He'll stave off the war with Sparta. He'll conciliate the allies, offering them union on equal terms as a modern statesman would do. Then, when he's reestablished the ideal civilization on a stable basis, he'll build a superconditioner and put the entire world under its influence."
"How could he, since the Emperor has no political power?"
"How could he get this far? Lenz let him, either to keep him out of his hair or, more likely, because Lenz hopes to use the conditioner himself on the world. If Vasil weren't fundamentally a fool, as Aspasia said, he'd have seen that. What a way to keep everybody under control! And you could justify it by saying that they were all as happy as possible, even if they weren't in their right minds."
Flin said, "I see their point of view, though they'd have had to modify their scheme for different climates. You couldn't live through a Russian winter in a chiton and himation."
"Oh, it's a cracked idea of course. There's nothing about keeping the slaves — a third of the population — happy, and I suspect these high points in history are inherently unstable."
"Why?"
"Some professor has a theory that they come up only when a society is changing from a basis of status and tradition to one of contract and reason, and the same forces that make the society flower also make it go to seed."
"I say!" said Flin. "We ought to let Diksen know."
"He'll find out about the murder, if that's what you mean. Everybody in Athens will hear of it, even without newspapers."
"I meant where we are."
"We shall have to see what Kleon does first."
Kleon returned to his house some time later, grinning.
"I fixed them!" he roared. "The Perikleans among the Prytaneis tried to delay things, but I showed them. The trumpeters have already gone out to sound a special assembly for tomorrow morning. It is too bad that you two cannot witness my triumph. We were going to attack Perikles through some of his friends, but this is quicker. To your pallets, and do not try to leave. I may need you as witnesses if there is a trial."
Chapter Nineteen
An hour before dawn, the blast of the trumpets awoke Knut Bulnes. As he listened, the notes died away, to be repeated from a greater distance, and then a still greater until they were barely audible. That, he thought, would be the trumpeters sent out the previous night to the neighboring towns of Attika: Peiraieus, Acharnai, and the rest.
When he and Flin crawled out of their smelly little cubicle, Bulnes found Kleon in the court, and pacing restlessly.
"I go," said the Tanner. "You two may eat what you like, get drunk, bed a slave — it is all the same to me. But leave not until I permit you."
He nodded toward his front door, where a couple of stalwart slaves with clubs stood prepared to enforce the order. .
Flin said, "My dear Kleon, we have an appointment at the house of Kallaischros, to lecture Kritias and Demokritos."
"Who is Demokritos?"
"A young philosopher from Abdera in Thrace."
"Well, Kritias as a citizen will be in the assembly with his father — rotten reactionaries, the whole lot — and Demokritos as a foreigner does not matter."
"At least," said Flin, "send a message telling them we shall be unable to come."
"I cannot be bothered," shouted Kleon. "The fate of Athens hangs in the balance, and you trouble me with your petty appointments. Iai for the people of Athens!"
Kleon strode out with his slaves. Flin said, "Last night this seemed like a nice, safe refuge from Perikles; today it seems more like a trap."
Bulnes smiled thinly. "My thought precisely. I suppose we shall have to spend the morning on vocabulary drill while the excitement goes on at the Assembly."
Bulnes was halfway through the list of proparoxy-tone adjectives when the porter accosted him: "Sir, there is a Scythian archer at the door, one Pardokas, to see you. Shall I admit him?"
"By all means," said Bulnes. Then, as Diksen came in, "My dear Roi, how the devil did you find us?" ;
Diksen grinned. "You can't hide nothing from slaves, see? The Gricks talk like we wasn't even there, and of course we pick things up and trade 'em back and forth. What's the dope on the big shot sticking a shiv in his beasel?"
Bulnes told him.
"Jeepers, what do you know?" said Diksen. "Things is hotting up. I s'pose this means I gotta stay up all day." He yawned. "Gotta get over to the Pnyx for this special assembly. Don't take no wooden nickels!"
The morning dragged on. Toward noon Bulnes heard Kleon's bellow outside. As the Tanner came in he took a crack at the porter with his walking stick, roaring; "That will teach you to open promptly when I call! Ho there, you Tartessians!"
"Yes?" said Bulnes. "Did something go wrong?"
"It might have been worse. I had presented my case, and all was going well, when the followers of the Perikles made an uproar, yelling like Illyrians till the President declared he felt an earthquake and adjourned the session because the gods were displeased. Gods!" He spat. "I had no time to bring up my main point — that for a long time Perikles has been receiving mysterious visitors who slip away from his house and disappear. One of my men followed one of these to the Theseion, where the fellow vanished into thin air. Spartan spies without doubt, arranging the betrayal of Athens. However, we shall continue tomorrow. Where is my lunch? Quick, scum, before I beat you to a jelly!"
The slaves scurried to obey. As Kleon waited there came another knock. In came a man.
"What is it, Hermippos?" said Kleon.
The man replied, "The squill-head is rallying his friends on the Akropolis with arms! We shall have a tyranny by nightfall, if nought hinder."
"What stops us?" said Kleon. "We have arms, too."
"Cut the constitution ..."
"I will give the people a better one when I have ground their enemies into the mire. Sosias, my arms! Hermippos, run, tell Glykon and Diopithes and Drakontides and our other friends to arm themselves and rouse their friends ... Here, I had better give you a list. Where is that worthless secretary of mine? Tell them to mark a big delta on their shields, with charcoal, delta for demos. Let them assemble on the path leading up to the Propylaia within the hour."
His slaves helped him into his greaves and cuirass.
Flin said, "This isn't in character either. The original Perikles was a good democrat who was once legally deposed without attempting violence."
"This isn't the original Perikles," said Bulnes. "He only thinks he is. My dear Kleon, you have no more reason to keep us here. Let us go, if you will be so kind, and if you wish us later, you can get in touch with us at the inn of Podokles."
"Go to the crows, for all I care! Now let me think. We want Hagnon and Simmias and Lakratidas ..."
Bulnes and Flin slipped out and headed for the Akropolis. Bulnes said, "If Kleon wins ..."
"That dreadful man?"
"Precisely, comrade. That'll end the experiment, no matter what happens to Vasil. Somebody'll turn off the conditioner ..."
"Not necessarily. Lenz might simply take it over, whether Vasil's killed or not, as the first step in his own program."
"Then I suppose it's up to us to turn it off."
"How?" said Flin