"If you say so," replied Agathon, who had no idea what a parabola was and remained unconvinced. After a moment he asked, in a low voice, "And the naval assault?"
Hieron shook his head, turning back to his letters. "Can't do it without knowing where the Romans are and what the Carthaginians would do if it worked. But it's still true about top-quality engineering. If it hadn't been for our catapults, the Romans would still be camped by the north wall and living off our farmers' lands."
The three-talenter wish you joy was installed in the Hexapylon precisely on time. Archimedes was not pleased with it. It was heavy to pivot, the loading mechanism was finicky, and the range was, he felt, short of what it could have been. Everyone else was delighted with the machine, however- the biggest catapult in the world! — and at the test-firing that afternoon a great cheer arose when the first massive stone crashed into the field where Romans had died only the week before. The king's son, Gelon, had asked to go with his father to see the spectacle, and his shrill cheer rose above all the others.
All the way back to the city the little boy talked excitedly to Archimedes, leaning down from the saddle of his father's horse to offer his own ideas for improving the defenses of Syracuse. Archimedes, who was sidling toward the moment when he must ask the king for his sister's hand in marriage like a dog toward a scorpion, found the child's chatter both an irritation and a relief. At least it was easier than talking to Hieron. Even if he hadn't been oppressed by the awful imminence of his outrageous request, Archimedes would have found Hieron's company wearing, for the king kept trying to persuade him to borrow a horse. Archimedes regarded horses as large, dangerous, bad-tempered animals that were very likely to throw you off and trample you, and he stayed on his own feet.
The house near the Lion Fountain had been prepared for the royal visit almost out of recognition. Arata and Philyra had been horrified to learn that Archimedes had invited the king to have cakes and wineit had been shocking enough to have such an eminent person turn up at the wake, but at least then there'd been no necessity of providing entertainment proper to the guest's station. Since Hieron could not be uninvited, however, they had set to work to uphold the family honor. The house had been swept, freshly daubed, and garlanded, and all the laundry boards and buckets removed from the courtyard, which looked quite empty and rather desolate. Sesame cakes purchased from the finest confectioner in Syracuse were oozing honey onto the best Tarentine pottery plates in the dining room, and wine from the best vintner trembled darkly in the antique red-figure mixing bowl. The slaves had been provided with new clothes, and when Hieron arrived, they stood scrubbed and uncomfortable by the door to meet him. The king, looking at them, saw that he was going to have to work at it if the visit was to be a success.
He detailed one of his attendants to take his horse down to the nearest public square and look after it, sent the rest back to the Ortygia, and came into the house accompanied merely by his son and by Dionysios, who had been invited to the afternoon gathering in lieu of a dinner party. Arata and Philyra, who were permitted to show their faces at an informal daytime occasion such as this, exchanged stilted greetings with the guests and offered them cakes and wine. There was a move to the dining room, and the slaves hurried anxiously about offering food and drink. Then Hieron said casually to Archimedes, "I've been hearing more from Alexandria about this water-snail of yours. Could you tell me how it works?"
"I have the prototype," Archimedes replied, delighted to escape the formalities. "Marcus put it somewhere. Mar-" He stopped in the middle of the summons and went crimson.
"I think it's in the storeroom," Philyra said quickly, though she too reddened.
The water-snail was fetched, and the laundry boards and buckets emerged with it to reclaim their rightful domain. Gelon, who'd been silently stuffing himself with sesame cakes, abandoned all thought of sweets and descended upon this new toy as soon as it was set up. He was invited to turn it, and after being corrected and advised to turn it slowly, he watched the water run out of the machine's head with unalloyed delight.
"By Apollo!" said Hieron softly. He crouched down beside his son and gazed at the machine. He had asked about the device to set Archimedes at ease, but now, at the sight of it, forgot that he'd ever needed any reason but his own delight in ingenious contrivances. "I think that's the cleverest thing I have ever seen in my life," he said, and looked up at the maker of it with his son's beaming childish pleasure.
Within minutes, all the remaining stiffness was gone. The king of Syracuse, his son, and soon the captain of the Ortygia garrison as well crouched in the courtyard and played with the water-snail. Gelon got wet- something he greatly enjoyed on a hot summer day. Dionysios also got wet, and had to be fetched rags to dry his armor quickly before it tarnished. Philyra giggled at the sight of the scarlet-cloaked captain polishing himself, and he looked up at her in embarrassment- then grinned at the look in her eyes. A plate of cakes was put down on the ground so that the guests could help themselves, and then, inevitably, stepped upon: Sosibia could be heard shortly afterward in the back of the house, scolding Chrestos, who was the culprit. "Oh, don't be hard on the boy!" Hieron called to her. "It's our own fault for sitting on the ground."
When the fascination of the water-snail began to thin, Philyra brought some of her brother's other machines out from the jumble in the storeroom: an astronomical instrument, a hoist, a set of gears that did nothing except turn each other. "That was supposed to be part of a lifting machine," Archimedes admitted shamefacedly, "but when you attach the weight to them, they jam."
"You built a machine that didn't work?" asked Dionysios, much amused. "I am shocked."
"He was only about fourteen!" protested Philyra. "I always loved them anyway." Fondly she rotated the top wheel. "See? They all turn at different speeds."
"Gelon loves them too," said Gelon's father dryly, observing the boy's expression of open-mouthed greed.
Archimedes cleared his throat. "Well," he said. "Umm- Gelon son of Hieron, would you like them?"
Gelon looked up at him with shining eyes, nodded, and grabbed the gears.
"Gelonion," said Hieron sharply. "What do you say?"
"Thank you!" said the boy, with all the requisite warmth.
Hieron smiled for a moment at his son's delight, then looked at Archimedes inquiringly. It was time, he felt, to hear Archimedes' own request.
Archimedes too felt that the ideal occasion had now presented itself. "Umm," he said, trying to quell the quaver in his gut. "Lord, may I speak with you a moment in private?"
They went back into the dining room. Through the window came the sound of Arata talking to little Gelon, and Dionysios asking Philyra about music. Hieron sat down comfortably on the couch; Archimedes perched on the edge of one of the chairs. Now that it had come to the point, all his new confidence was ebbing away. It had seemed better to ask his question in his own house, where he was master. But the house, even garlanded and at its best, remained the residence of a middle-class teacher, with walls of plaster and a floor of packed clay. When he compared it to the marble-floored mansion on the Ortygia, he was ashamed. He was not of a rank to ask for the sister of a king. But he cleared his throat and said, in a low voice so that the others in the courtyard would not overhear, "Lord, if my request is too bold, forgive me. You yourself encouraged me to ask above my expectation."
"I promised you anything you might get in Egypt, except the Museum," replied Hieron seriously. "If you have something to ask of me, I am delighted."