"Then get to the point."
"If you want ten of these things, you'll just have to pay for them, but if you want thousands, and you want to know how to make them. ." He paused.
"Why is it," Gaius mused, "that I suspect a cunning Greek scheme?"
"What I was going to suggest," Timothy said quickly, "was that you could offer a prize for the method. That way, you'd get everyone thinking about it, and. ."
"I'd have the most expensive bits of metal ever," Gaius mused.
"Then buy what you need," Timothy shrugged.
"Twenty thousand sesterces," Gaius muttered. "Offer that."
"We'll get something," Timothy smiled to himself.
"I rather fancy you think you will," Gaius shook his head.
* * *
Gaius soon felt he was correct in his assessment of Timothy. He was some way away from the house where Timothy was living when he heard the sounds of raised voices. At first he hurried, thinking Timothy might need help, but as he got closer he realized that while he might need help, it was not the sort that Gaius would offer. That, however, did not stop Gaius from being curious.
He crept into the room, and immediately felt foolish. A herd of elephants could have strolled through without drawing attention to themselves. Timothy and one of the local craftsmen were crouched over a small bench. Timothy had one of Gaius' nuts forced into the end of a cleft stick, and he was using this as a lever to try to force the nut onto what seemed to be a highly bent rod made of lead. The other man was trying to clamp the other end of the lead rod onto the bench. As Gaius entered, the stick broke, and Timothy swore.
"What on earth are you doing?" Gaius asked in amazement.
Timothy looked up guiltily, the other man somewhat fearfully.
"It's my responsibility," Timothy conceded, "if I've spoiled this nut. I'll make it up to you, and. ."
"I still don't know what you're trying to do?"
"Well," Timothy started. "What I thought was, if we had a nut made of hard metal, and screwed it onto soft metal, it would cut a thread. That way, one nut would make several bolts all the same."
"A whole lot of leaden bolts," Gaius nodded ruefully, "that melt when you least need it, and bend, and. ."
"The bolts don't have to be made of lead," Timothy explained. "It's just that the cutting ridges have to be stronger than the rest."
"If this had worked," the tradesman said, "I'd get you one of these nuts made out of hard steel, that would cut brass, or maybe even iron."
"So you'd have a lot of bolts and no nuts," Gaius smiled.
"You could do the same with a bolt," Timothy pointed out. "Use it to bore out a thread in. ."
"Yes, of course," Gaius nodded. He stared at Timothy. This could work! Then, back to earth, "So, what's wrong?"
"All he's done," the other man shrugged, "was fill the nut up with lead. Then it's jammed so tight it won't go anywhere."
"I undo it and clean that out," Timothy shrugged.
"About ten times a turn," the other man muttered, "and that's not the worst of it."
"And what is the worst?" Gaius asked. He was not quite sure what to do. This looked to be a silly idea, but Timothy was trying to help him.
"Look at the way he's cleaning that out? He's burring the ridges! Do you know how long it took to cut those? I tell you, this is. ."
"You've been paid?" Gaius asked.
"Well, yes, but. ."
"Then I wouldn't worry about it."
"Still no need to be stupid," the man grouched.
"Meaning?"
"He can get a little way before the lead sticks," the man said, as if to a simple child, "so if you get the lead out then, you can keep going."
"He wants to cut grooves inside the nut to let the lead out," Timothy explained, "but that would ruin the nut."
"Cut your grooves," Gaius shrugged.
"It'll wreck the nuts," Timothy warned.
"Take the bolt that went with it," Gaius added, "and do the same with it. See if you can make more pairs. Then if it works," he added, looking at the tradesman, "can you cut similar parts in iron?"
"I can do it with the hardest steel," the man said proudly, then added quickly, "Of course it will cost. ."
"I know that," Gaius smiled. "Just don't get too greedy." He paused, then added, "or else." He smiled inwardly as he saw the look of fear. He then grinned as he added, "I suppose Timothy's told you what is going to be paid if this works?"
"Of course I have," Timothy added quickly. Too quickly, Gaius thought. As if he wanted to stop Gaius from going further. He had probably not told the real total. Yes, Timothy would be pocketing some and sharing the rest.
"Then the cost of making these iron tools should come from that," Gaius shrugged, "because you can't prove you can do it otherwise. Oh," he added, after a pause, "Timothy, make sure your man knows that this has to be proven beyond reasonable doubt. I would think at least three pairs of cutting tools should be made. What do you think?"
"If you wish," Timothy replied cautiously.
"And of course, he's going to have to do the bulk of the work. You can't make any of those."
"I'll add some more from my share," Timothy promised.
"I should hope so too," Gaius nodded, then he turned and left.
Chapter 34
A year passed without incident on the military front, except that the remaining Tribunes, seeing Gaius' decorations, or alternatively, having watched in envy as his cohort had the two hottest months in the luxuriant regions of Lake Barada carrying out mountain drills, decided that they would also ensure more intensive drills within their cohorts. The legion began to resume its efficiency, even if its Legate did not. Timothy produced the steel tools, then found they were useless because the nut-derived master could not be held in place long enough to do any good, while the bolt-derived master could not be forced to turn. Making these had taken longer than expected, and using them proved more difficult than expected, although, Timothy admitted, it should not have been that surprising. Metal was strong, cutting metal would require a lot of force, so a means of holding everything in place and getting enough force was required. The holder had to have a much longer strong lever. Once they knew what to do, they would get there.
The news from Rome was increasingly depressing. The Princeps was accused of becoming increasingly erratic, although, as Gaius noted, the accusation was not entirely fair. Until now, the Roman living in Rome had been spared taxation: Gaius Caesar had the outright impertinence to introduce taxes that would treat Rome on par with the remainder of the empire. That was extraordinarily unpopular, but, as Gaius noted, not entirely unreasonable. Some of the rich complained that these taxes removed their ability to live according to their station. Little Boots, having heard this complaint at the end of a particularly lavish feast he had put on to impress them, leaped to is feet and announced, "There is no need for you to live like this. A man should be frugal, except he be a Caesar!"
That was hardly the statement with which to win friends, which illustrated Little Boots' problem. He felt neither shame nor scruple about demonstrating the power he wielded, and he showed little restraint in wielding it. On the other hand, he was very intelligent, and he realized the effect this must be having. Accordingly, he lived between two extremes: one was a strange state of exultation at the unrestrained enjoyment this power brought, and the second was a total state of depression arising from the fear of what might follow.
And what might follow was more likely once the largesse ran out, as it would if he did not acquire more money. Accordingly, more effort was made to gather revenue, and in this Little Boots could not restrain himself from flouting his superiority. While giving a particularly long speech in the Senate he switched to holding an auction, naming all the bid prices himself. The nod of a sleeping Senator was taken as a bid, and one Senator woke up to find he had made thirteen quite outrageously expensive purchases. As Little Boots remarked, that would teach him to pay attention and not go to sleep in his presence. The money was paid because the Senator was too afraid to even suggest he had been asleep.