Then came the news Gaius dreaded: as Athene had predicted, Gaius Caesar had annulled all Tiberius' late appointments, including his military appointment. For several minutes, Gaius stared at nothing; unless Athene's further prediction came to be, his career was over before it began.
He continued reading. Little Boots had then announced a return to the Augustan ideals, which included the promise of much better cooperation with the Senate and the lowering of taxes and of tithes, all of which was extremely popular with both the masses and the upper classes. But there was more good news. Little Boots had made him, Claudius, co-consul. While Gaius Caesar was in good spirits, he, Claudius, had mentioned his, Gaius', name. Gaius Caesar had nodded, and said he had not forgotten, but before you get a military position you must remain in Alexandria and prove you are worth supporting. According to Little Boots, Tiberius was correct in one respect: Rome needed leaders who could do something else besides blindly wield a sword.
So, with an imperial command, albeit an indirect one, there was little alternative but to remain. The problem was, when Little Boots told Claudius that, he would have known about that other letter. He had to hope that his letter would convince Caesar he was not involved in such plots, otherwise his future was bleak.
* * *
Because of his rank, he was sometimes invited to certain social events. Flaccus, the most powerful man in Egypt, had tried probing him, but Gaius remained obtusely indifferent to the hints. Finally, Flaccus tried the more direct approach, in front of several other members of society.
"You should be in the army!"
"I seem to recall that Caesar makes those appointments," Gaius replied dryly.
"Perhaps he needs reminding that you're still interested," came the broad hint.
"I thank you for your interest. I am sure Caesar will let me know of your concern."
Later, he admitted this was not the most politic of responses, but it had a strange effect for as many other Romans in the room knew, Flaccus had no contact with Caesar at all. Under Tiberius' instructions, Flaccus had prosecuted Agrippina, Little Boots' mother. With little choice, Little Boots accepted this while Tiberius was alive, but that did not mean he had forgotten or forgiven. Caesar's ignoring Flaccus might be the best Flaccus could hope for.
Finally a letter came, with Caesar's seal. At least this would give that wretched Flaccus something to think about! Gaius held it up and stared at it, his hands trembling. This was his career! However, when he opened it, he found it was not. Caesar thanked him for his letter, but he suspected Gaius realized that Caesar was well aware of these pathetic efforts. He should recall what he had once swore to Caesar, and fulfil his pledge. He should remain in Alexandria, and contemplate other ways to serve Rome in line with Tiberius' orders. Other ways! Gaius stared at the letter, and realized he had no option but to accept Caesar's orders. He would acknowledge the letter immediately, then. .
To take his mind off his problems, he devoted so much of his energies to his machine that Timothy believed it was becoming an obsession. As time progressed Gaius' mood became darker, he ate less, he slept less, and his failure to make progress seemed to make his mood even darker. All he knew was that he would continue until he succeeded. The Gods, or so it was believed, had imparted power to metal objects to do things that men could not. That must be his task and if the prophecy was correct, he must succeed.
Of course, he sometimes reflected when in a more than usually depressed mood, the prophecy also predicted military victories, and so far there was little sign that he would even make it to the army.
Succeeding with the invention was also easier said than done. Nobody else could do it, there was nothing like this anywhere. He should give up, and enjoy life. Why did he think it could be done?
Nobody else had succeeded because nobody else had tried hard enough.
All of which was irrelevant. He would not stop until he had succeeded. He did not believe in Gods, but that was more than a dream. Athene may or may not have been a goddess, but she was like nothing he had experienced. Her message had to mean something, and he felt strangely convinced by her assertion that he would die miserably if he did not succeed.
What would success look like? What was the most basic thing it could do? Presumably move up and down, or turn a wheel, which were essentially the same thing, as a hinged lever attached to the circumference of a wheel would convert one to the other. So the little toy that turned a paddlewheel was an engine. The problem was, it was not powerful enough to do anything.
How to make it more powerful? Use more steam! To do that, he needed a bigger fire, and a bigger tank of water. That meant that everything would be bigger.
What were the problems? The little machine was soldered together, but that might not be strong enough for a larger machine. So he needed a better way of joining large pieces of metal together. Now, in principle, he knew there were at least three answers. The first was the bolt. Nobody else had seemed to appreciate what a bolt could do, probably because nobody knew how to make them strong enough. The second way was fire-welding: pieces to be joined were heated in a forge until the edges became almost liquid, sometimes with a thin piece of another metal in between, then the two pieces could be fused/hammered together. Provided the temperature was correct, and an appropriate flux was used to stop the metal from forming corrosion products, the metal would join. Even iron could be welded, if you could find someone skilled enough to do it. The third was the rivet. If you left holes, and if you fire-welded, the joints could be strengthened with rivets, hammered down over copper washers to make a seal. So he had made progress. All he had to do was to keep at it. Persistence! That was the way to success!
Then suppose he had steam going into something and he could turn a wheel. If such a machine were to be useful, there would be huge forces on the joints. Surfaces that should move had to slip, not graunch. Perhaps metal that had to slide over another piece, such as where a rod joined a wheel, should have a lining of soft metal, like solder. Maybe a bit stronger than solder, perhaps more like a soft bronze, but with something to make them slippery. It was then he recalled that there was something made from fat and lime that was put around the axles of heavy cartwheels. Yes, there was a solution to that problem.
So, once the wheel turned, this task was completed. So, back to the beginning! A boiler, and pipes to take steam to the machine, whatever that was, and maybe a pipe to bring the hot water back? Suppose you did that, how would you get it back in? Perhaps that was not so important; water was easily available, except. . If you had to stop the machine when you ran out of water, that would negate much of its value, and if there was a way to put water in while the machine was running, you might as well return the. . the what? The water would come out of the machine as steam. So, condense the steam, after it had done whatever work it was going to do! Then it could stay in the machine, without exerting backpressure.