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Science is what we understand well enough to explain to a computer. Art is everything else we do.
- Donald Knuth
Carlton stood, dutifully as ever, discreetly to the side. For someone with the awesome powers of the office of Emperor, Petronius spent much of his time consumed with trivialities. He watched as Petronius smiled for photographers with the IFL champions, the Adamstown Mutineers. Petronius was a big man, standing 6' 3", but standing beside the football players seemed to have shrunk him. While his physical stature may have suffered by comparison, it was clear who was the center of attention, even at this testosterone-laden event. Petronius joked with the crowd, putting everyone at ease. Carlton was sure those in atten-dance today would tell their grandchildren all about the time they met the Em-peror of Pacifica.
Carlton's earbud chimed and Domita told him that a message had arrived from Princess Elizabeth of Ares, for the Emperor. Petronius had always been clear: he was to be informed the moment any communication arrived from any of the principalities or duchies. He felt it was especially important to be responsive to those who administered his dominions.
* * * * *
Petronius sat at his desk to review the transmission from Mars. He activated the display. The screen illuminated and was further lit by the image of his half-sister, Elizabeth. She favored her mother, the Empress Consort Sonja, with her Norwegian heritage, although elements of their father's Japanese, Thai, and "mid-continent European mutt" -as he so affectionately described it- were present as well. He pressed the play button and the image sprang to life.
"First, Your Majesty, let me say I dislike these little videograms. I know the twenty minute transmission lag from Mars to Earth means we can't exactly have a conversation, but this is so awkward. I hope you'll overlook any failings in my delivery.
"I must be among the last, but please allow me to extend my congratulations on your engagement. I look forward to seeing you at the wedding in a year's time. Princess Nonhlanna is a fine choice and will be a credit to all of us as our new Empress. Dad and Kai would have been especially pleased with your choice.
"The main reason I am contacting you is to invite you to Mars. You would be the first Earth head of state to visit Mars and it would be a great boost to 84,000 of your subjects who live and work here. They have accomplished a great deal and I think it would be a wonderful endorsement of their efforts to have you come and pay us a visit.
"I'm sure the Lord Chamberlain and the rest of the state apparatus will object most strenuously, but I believe that a visit of this sort can be made to work. With Orion, Argo and Santa Maria in service plying the trade route, the transit time has been cut in half. Sixty-four days is still quite a trip, but it's so much better than it used to be.
"I would very much like you to make the trip now, before you are married and have family obligations even more firmly rooting you to Earth. Besides, it'll be an opportunity for lots of free coverage of Pacifica and its progressive new Em-peror.
"I anxiously await your reply. Take care of yourself, little brother. Love to all."
The image froze, capturing Elizabeth in one of her crooked smiles. On anyone else, it would have looked goofy, but on her it just ended up looking especially cute. Elizabeth had managed to survive the nerve gas attack on the palace be-cause of the incompetence of others. She had taken responsibility for arranging for one of their father's gifts, a specially commissioned stained glass Tiffany lamp with his beloved Stargazer lilies as its central motif, when she was told just before the party that it hadn't yet arrived. She was off making panicked phone calls to track it down when the attack unfolded.
He turned off the display and pressed the intercom button.
"Yes, Your Majesty?" asked Carlton.
"Summon the Lord Chamberlain. Please come in with him when he arrives."
* * * * *
Petronius sat at the desk in his ceremonial office, having just signed the order temporarily assigning his executive power to his brother as Emperor Regent for the duration of the trip. Pacifica would have its fourth emperor in less than ten months. He was certain Arthur would perform well in his absence, and since humanity had long possessed radio technology he was pretty sure they could confer should the need arise.
There was a light rap at the door. Petronius rose as Carlton announced, "The Crown Prince, Your Majesty."
Arthur strode confidently into the room, giving Carlton a nod as he passed. Carlton backed from the room and closed the door. Arthur was in his summer Navy whites, his hat tucked under his left arm.
"Good morning, Your Majesty."
"Good morning, Arthur." Petronius indicated the sofas in front of the desk. "Please, sit. Can I get you anything?"
"No, I'm good. Thank you." Arthur sat and placed his hat on the cushion next to him.
Petronius took a seat opposite. "Arthur, I am appointing you Emperor Regent while I am on a trip to visit Elizabeth on Mars. Your status will revert to Crown Prince upon my return."
Arthur clasped his hands together and dropped his head in what looked like prayer for a moment. He lifted his head, some of the color having drained from his face. "I thought I was simply the place holder until you had your first son. I never expected to sit in the big chair."
"Well, I think it is safe to say that neither of us ever envisioned being in these roles. You'll do fine. The Lord Chamberlain and his staff are first rate and Sameria is a very capable principal private secretary from everything I have heard. The big secret to leading is to do nothing most of the time, and when you actually have to do something, be decisive. If you get into a jam, get a message to me and we'll sort everything out."
Arthur leaned back. "Are you sure this is the right time for this trip? You've only been in office for a few monthsÉ"
"Elizabeth suggested making the trip before the wedding and before family obli-gations rooted me too firmly here. She's probably right. The media coverage of the trip won't hurt either."
"When do you go?"
"The Argo leaves in ten days."
* * * * *
The phone rang her from a dead sleep. Maggie didn't normally remember her dreams, but this one involved Kyle and had been most interesting and astonishingly unrealistic.
"Hello?" she asked. She wondered for a half-second if she'd actually managed to say it out loud.
"Good morning, Ms. Bowles," the male voice on the other end of the line was much too cheerful for 4:30 a.m. "Sorry for the early call. The Ministry of Information is activating the Special Press Pool. You, Mr. Sevearn and Mr. Sanders are to be ready for pick-up in one hour for an extended trip. Is that clear?"
"Umm, yeah. Sure. We'll be ready."
"Very good."
The line went dead. Maggie turned on the light and sat up on the edge of the bed. She yawned and stretched. She'd better start with Kyle. He took longer to get ready. Freddie was always packed and ready to go. She pressed the buttons on her cell and pulled up Kyle's number from her contacts list and dialed him.
* * * * *
The security detail had timed its arrival at Adamstown International very close to departure time. Surprised reactions on other travelers' faces revealed how often the Emperor appeared in such a locale. Petronius and his entourage strode to the gate. Fielding, the Air Pacifica terminal services manager, was having some difficulty simultaneously kissing ass, showing off his beautiful facility and keeping up with the Emperor's entourage.
"Your luggage and the press pool are already aboard, Your Majesty," offered Fielding.
"I hope they're all in the cargo hold," said Petronius. He noted the smile creeping onto Carlton's face.
Fielding lost a beat, caught between the twin horrors of potentially having disappointed his Emperor and reproaching himself for not having anticipated this insane expectation.
Petronius took pity. "I was kidding, Mr. Fielding."
"Of course, Your Majesty." Fielding laughed. It was forced, unpleasant, too loud, and made him look like he was having an uncomfortable bowel movement.
Carlton reflexively touched his ear. "The crew says the reason for the late de-parture is an air traffic control delay."
"I hope no one tells the Minister of Transportation," said Petronius. "She'll have a fit."
At long last, they arrived at the gate. They stopped for an official pictures and video and then they boarded.
The passengers leaped to their feet as they saw who had come on board.
"Please, keep your seats," said Petronius.
People sat reluctantly. Petronius walked right past the seats at the front of the craft that had been reserved for him and his party. He made his way down the aisle, shaking hands and engaging in small talk. Carlton was close behind. He knew everyone on the flight had been vetted beforehand by Eyes and the Imperial Intelligence Service. A couple of folks of marginal concern had had their tickets cancelled and plans changed on very short notice. Additionally, several undercover agents were already aboard. Almost nothing the Emperor did was truly spontaneous.
"Ah! Freddie! How good to see you!" Petronius shook the hand of the Fox-Turner News cameraman. The rest of the crew scrambled to their feet, astonishment plain on their faces.
"And you as well, Your Majesty. May I introduce our reporter, Kyle Sevearn, and our producer, Maggie Bowles?" "We've got to get our seats, but I wanted to be sure to give you this -I know how you hate to be without." He turned to Carlton who turned to another aide who passed up a shoebox-sized carton. "A case of Black Black."
Freddie beamed. "You are too kind, Your Majesty. Thank you very much." He gratefully accepted the gift and the two shook hands again. Petronius and his aides took their seats and the flight attendants began their preflight briefing for the passengers.
Kyle and Maggie stared at Freddie as he tucked his gift into the overhead bin and retook his aisle seat.
"How the hell does the Emperor know you and know you like that disgusting anisette gum?" asked Maggie.
"How come you never told us you were tight with the big guy?" asked Kyle be-fore Freddie could answer the first question.
"I was on the crew for the Janelle Waters Specials for a couple of years a lifetime ago," Freddie explained, adjusting the flat airline pillow behind his head "We did a whole segment on Prince Reginald of Pacifica. I think he was all of eighteen or nineteen at the time. Everyone expected him to be a spoiled brat, but he was a gas - a lot of fun. We did a sort of 'a week in the life of a prince' thing and followed him everywhere, well everywhere they would let us. The crew got to know him pretty well. Janelle did her usual jet in at the last minute sit-down interview to ask questions her producer handed her. The segment turned out really well, but it kind of got buried with coverage of the outbreak of the Arabian Revolution."
"How come you never told us?" repeated Kyle.
"You guys never ask me anything. I'm just the camera mule."
The two of them suddenly became keenly interested in the flight attendant's little spiel and the in-flight magazines and safety information cards.
In his seat, Petronius also glanced at the safety information card for their IPC-Boeing OrbiCruiser. The flight attendant went through what he suspected was a much more thorough than usual exposition on the safety features of their craft. Petronius wasn't sure they would get much of chance to use their seat bottom cushions as flotation devices in an OrbiCruiser that could go something like 7 kilometers per second.
As they taxied out to the runway, the captain welcomed them aboard and announced that their flight time to the Argo was nine hours.
* * * * *
The basso voiceover rumbled, "This is FoxTurner PrimeNews with Dale Everson," as the bright, spinning, semitransparent logo faded into a shot of the superstar new anchor.
"Good evening. We have a lot to report on what has turned out to be a surpris-ingly busy news day with the resignation of Defense Secretary Koruna and the merger announcement between the generals, General Electric and General Motors. But first we start with the announcement out of Adamstown, Pacifica, that Emperor Petronius has temporarily passed the powers of his office to his younger brother Crown Prince Arthur while he makes a surprise visit to Mars. More on this from Kyle Sevearn, who filed this report as a pool reporter on the trip."
The picture changed to a beauty shot of the Imperial Palace in Adamstown during a changing of the guard ceremony, followed by file footage shots of the coronation and other official functions with the new Emperor.
"Now that the official announcement has been made, the lid has been lifted on this astonishing story. Eight days ago, our press liaison with the Pacifica Ministry of Information contacted our producer Maggie Bowles and told her that we were selected to provide the video press pool coverage for a secret upcoming event and that we were to prepare for an extended absence from Adamstown. We were sequestered in government facilities and were not told of our actual destination until the night before we left."
The picture changed again to show the takeoff of the OrbiCruiser from Adamstown and a view of the docking with the Argo. Sevearn continued, on camera, floating in a stateroom, "We are on our way to Mars with Emperor Petronius and his entourage." In the background, Petronius mingled with passengers and crew on the OrbiCruiser and the Argo. "Petronius will become the first Earth head of state to visit Mars. His staff has laid on an extensive set of stops on his tour of Pacifican facilities on the Red Planet, including courtesy visits to the European Union, American, Russian, Chinese, and Brazilian settlements. We will be bringing you updates throughout this historic trip. For now, this is Kyle Sevearn for the Special Press Pool, reporting from the HIMS Argo on its way to Mars."
* * * * *
"I want to show you something," said Elizabeth.
"Yes? What is it?" Petronius was tired after having toured what must have been every dome, mine, grade school, hospital, and factory in the duchy in just three days.
"It's a surprise. You might say it is the real reason I asked you here." Her trademark crooked smile had never been bigger. She didn't wait for a response. "You'll need to suit up and it's a bit of a drive, but it never fails to make an impression."
"You're being awfully cryptic, but I'm game."
The rover bounced along the trail. The praetorians, Carlton, and especially the pool reporters had put up a bit of a fight over not being asked along, but Elizabeth prevailed. Olympus Mons loomed in the background -so impossibly large it didn't look real. The trail passed through a cleft between two low hillocks and there it was.
"My God, who did this?" Petronius hurried to put on his helmet.
"His name was Tyler Madsen." She rested her hand on his shoulder to keep him from rising as she checked the seal on his helmet. Satisfied, she had him check hers and they walked in to the doorlock.
"Was? Did something happen to him?"
"He was killed in a mining accident four months ago. Stupid really. A new heavy machine operator let an ore carrier get away from him. There's not a lot of room in a mine -Madsen never had a chance."
The doorlock chimed, the light turned green, and Elizabeth opened the door. About a hundred meters away stood a massive rock, towering twelve to fifteen meters high. The top was larger than the base -it looked something like an inverted pyramid, although it was really as far from simple geometry as Mother Nature could get. The rock was layered, mostly with various shades of red, but showing some thin grey layers as well. Most remarkable of all was that a face had been exquisitely, magnificently carved into it. It was the face of their father, Jordan II.
They descended the three steps to the ground and walked closer to the sculpture. The face dominated the side of the rock facing them and, because of the sculptor's use of the rock's natural shape, his father seemed to be looking at the viewer, even though his head appeared to be bowed. His father wasn't smiling, but he seemed, what, amused? Bemused? His expression reminded Petronius of Mona Lisa's sfumato smile.
Elizabeth read his face, "Dad seems to have a slightly different expression every time I visit. I know it's all tricks of light depending on time of day, but it makes him seem alive."
"Did Madsen ever meet Dad?"
"No, we don't think so. He did have hundreds of photos in his quarters."
"What was a professional sculptor doing getting killed in a mining accident?"
"He was an amateur sculptor and full-time miner."
"Did he have any family?"
"A wife and two daughters back on Nauru. He was working a four year contract."
The red layers shot through with grey were beautiful. The reflection of the light off of the polished surface sparkled and played, giving the rock additional depth.
"What kind of stone is this?"
"It's red jasper and hematite."
"Beautiful."
The face was sculpted so large on the stone that the outside edges of the face didn't fit. There were no ears. The fact that the face was incomplete seemed to improve it somehow. Nobody missed the arms of the Venus de Milo, and Petronius imagined no one would miss his father's ears.
"How long did it take him to do this?"
"Over a year."
"So it's not a memorial, really."
"Well, it didn't start out that way. He added the inscription on the base after the assassination."
Petronius moved closer. At the base of the stone, below his father's chin, engraved in letters several centimeters deep was inscribed
in memoriam
Jordan II
Through many nations and many seas have I come
To carry out these wretched funeral rites, brother,
That at last I may give you this final gift in death
And that I might speak in vain to silent ashes.
Since fortune has borne you, yourself, away from me.
Oh, poor brother, snatched unfairly away from me,
Now, though, even these, which from antiquity and in the custom of our parents, have been handed down, a gift of sadness in the rites, accept them, flowing with many brotherly tears, And for eternity, my brother, hail and farewell.Gaius Valerius Catullus
Elizabeth stood next to him as he read. "I didn't know, Catullus," she said, "He died at age 30 in 54 BC. Only a single book of his poems is known to exist."
"I've read some of him: 'I am not really keen, Caesar, to wish to pander to you, Nor to know whether you are a hero or a villain,'" quoted Petronius.
* * * * *
Freddie and Maggie ran the cameras for the standard two-camera interview set up. Freddie had expertly lit the scene before the principals arrived and readjusted the lighting while Emperor Petronius and Kyle had their make-up touched up. After a few more minutes of preparation, they were into the questions.
"Thank you for joining us this evening, Your Majesty."
"It is my pleasure, Mr. Sevearn."
"I wonder if you could tell us why you decided to make this trip, especially so early in your reign?" asked Kyle.
"My sister, Princess Elizabeth, who administers Pacifica's Martian interests, suggested the trip and its timing. She felt, and I agreed, that the visit would help highlight the wonderful accomplishments of the Pacifican community on Mars. It would also showcase Pacifican technology. As for the timing, Elizabeth felt that some time before the wedding might be best."
"What did your fiancé, Princess Nonhlanna, think about your travel plans?"
"Like most people, she wanted to know if it was safe and, once she was assured, she told me to be careful."
They shared a laugh.
"Why did you decide elevate Crown Prince Arthur to Emperor Regent during your time off of Earth?"
"Even though the one-way communications lag time to Earth is only around twenty minutes, I felt it important that Arthur had full legal power to make whatever decisions needed to be made without first having to consult me. I think we all know that twenty minutes can be an eternity should a situation escalate."
"Does the Emperor Regent have the authority to use Pacifica's recently revealed nuclear weapons capability?" Petronius shifted a bit in his seat while Kyle asked the question.
"Yes, of course. He is the Emperor while I am gone."
Kyle arched his eyebrow significantly. "What has impressed you the most thus far on your trip?"
"I've met Martians -the first children born on Mars. Most of them have never been to Earth and some of them may never visit what most of the rest of humanity views as the home world. I should not have been surprised by this, but I was. It is yet another instance of science fiction becoming fact right before our eyes."
Kyle knew there was more to be said, "Has anything else impressed you on this trip, Your Majesty?"
"I have also had the great pleasure of seeing a magnificent sculpture of my father done by a miner named Tyler Madsen. It is quite large and, I think, will become a must-see sight for any future Mars tourists. Madsen was tragically killed in a mining accident several months ago. Today, I am pleased to announce the Tyler Madsen Art Fellowship that will permit five annual recipients to live and work as artists on Mars for up to three years."
* * * * *
Petronius hadn't dreamed of his father for months. After the assassination, he had often found it difficult to get his father out of his head. However, in the past few months, he occasionally had trouble conjuring up a mental picture of what his father looked like. Who the hell couldn't remember what immediate family members looked like? Now, when he thought of his father, the image of Madsen's sculpture sometimes appeared first in his mind's eye.
He and his father stood before the massive sculpture. The setting seemed hyper-real, super-focused. If he'd had trouble believing that this was a dream, the fact that they were standing there without benefit of surface excursion suits would have decided it. The dark blue of his father's naval uniform seemed quite out of place in the sea of Martian reds.
"Good Lord, this is big!" said his father. Dad walked around the sculpture for a time, hands clasped behind his back, in the manner he frequently used when on the endless inspection tours the job called for.
"I look ambivalent, conflicted, maybe ennuied." He walked up and read the inscription. He laughed.
"Catullus seems appropriate, especially given the hard to read expression."
"Why is that?" asked Petronius.
"Catullus is praised as one of the greatest Roman lyric poets, yet he also wrote some of the raunchiest stuff you're likely to find."
"I don't understand."
"I am sure now that I am gone there will be a focus on all of the good I did and folks will give me a pass on the not so good things I did. People romanticize the past, rose-colored glasses and all that -or rose-colored stone, in this case."
Petronius chuckled as his father smiled at the pun. The man had a preternatural love for puns.
His father backed up a few paces and gazed at the face. "The American President Abraham Lincoln is remembered as the great emancipator of the slaves, not as the greatest defiler of constitutional protections and separation of powers. I certainly never had to deal with anything near the scope of the American Civil War, but tough decisions had to be made now and again. You just have to live with some of your decisions because they're the kind that cannot be undone."
"And sometimes decisions are made for you that cannot be undone," said Petronius.
"Too true." His father moved to stand beside him. "I don't know, maybe we're giving this Madsen fellow too much credit. Maybe he didn't intend everything I'm reading into it, but I think this sculpture is special because you can look at it and see everything we've been talking about and more, all at the same time. I'm not even sure it matters so much that it's a depiction of me."
"No, Dad. That's everything for me."
About the Author: Stephen Sarrica is one of the legion of English Literature majors slaving away on the Great American Novel. When not writing, thinking about writing, or participating in a writers' group (Argus Scribes rule!), he keeps busy managing an information technology group at a major research university. He welcomes correspondence at thakk@mac.com.
About the Artist: Dale O'Dell is a computer-illustrator and photographer. Working from his studio in the mountains of central Arizona he creates surrealistic imagery that is used for book and CD covers, magazines and advertising. More of his art can be viewed at http://www.dalephoto.com/.
"Carmen 93" (quote) was translated by David Kimel and is used here with permission of the Gaius Valerius Catullus web site.
"Carmen 101" ("Jordan II") was translated by Rob Shereda and is used here with permission of the Gaius Valerius Catullus web site.
© 2004 Stephen Sarrica
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