We can always go back to the pivoted catapult if we solve this silly problem."
"Fine! I wish all my engineers was as clear-minded as you two. Keep up the good work!"
Eight – MESSANA
On a rain-threatening day in early Elaphebolion, Zopyros' men rolled the two catapults out to the archery range. Although Archytas came along to see the trials, few others even noticed them. The Ortygians were used to Zopyros' experiments.
First, Zopyros commanded his men to cock the old catapult, in which he had installed three triggers in tandem. The crew winched the bowstring back to the rearmost trigger, engaged the trigger, and disconnected the windlass. Zopyros pushed the release lever. With a crash, the catapult sent its dart shrieking down the range, about as far as it had shot when it had only one trigger.
Then he ordered the men to cock this catapult to the intermediate trigger. This shot went off without incident. When the crew cocked the engine for short range, however, Zopyros found the release lever at an awkward distance. He had to lean over the catapult frame to reach the lever. When he pushed the lever to release the bowstring, he lost his balance and fell forward into the mechanism. As the catapult whanged, Zopyros' chin came down where the bowstring had just been.
He climbed out of the machine, rubbing his bruises. Archytas said: "If you'd fallen a heartbeat sooner, old boy, your head would have gone flying down the range like that dart."
"As good a use for it as any," growled Zopyros. He directed his crew to the windlass of the other catapult. He engaged the hooks on the front of the heavy bronze trigger assembly, a mechanism about the size and shape of a brick. It had a pair of hooks like a crab's claw in front, an eye in back to which the windlass rope was tied, and a release lever protruding from the top.
As the crew turned the spokes of the windlass, the trigger assembly crept back down the missile groove, drawing the bowstring with it. The bowstring thrummed and the bow creaked as they took the stress.
This catapult had a ratchet wheel mounted on the windlass shaft, and a dog or pawl to lock this wheel. When Zopyros judged that the trigger assembly had been drawn back far enough, he engaged the pawl. The windlass rope remained taut, still taking the pull of the bowstring. Zopyros placed the dart in the groove, seated it, and grasped the lever.
"This one, you pull back to release," he said. "Like this!"
He pulled, but nothing happened. The lever stuck. The hooks refused to open.
He pulled again, without effect.
"The polluted thing's jammed," said Archytas. "Be careful—"
"To the afterworld with it!" shouted Zopyros, giving the lever a tremendous jerk.
The hooks parted, the bow snapped forward, and the dart sped on its way. At the same time the trigger assembly, still attached to the windlass rope but suddenly released from the pull of the bowstring, flew into the air. It struck Zopyros on the head with a clank. There was a flash ...
He came to his senses lying on his back near the catapult. Archytas was wiping his forehead with a wet sponge. When his eyesight cleared, Zopyros saw the rest of his team standing around him in a circle, bending over him with anxious looks.
"Wh-what happened?" he asked.
"The engine kicked back at you, as I feared," said Archytas, wiping his forehead. "Your thick skull seems to be intact, but you've got a lump the size of a gryphon's egg growing out of your scalp. It's just the gods' own luck that we haven't yet killed anybody with these things."
Zopyros sat up and groaned. "I feel as if Herakles had swatted me!"
"You'd better take the day off. Wheel the engines back into the Armory, boys."
By evening Zopyros was up and about, although any sudden movement made him wince. He and Archytas argued long and intensely in their rented room. Whereas Zopyros wanted further to develop the catapult with three triggers, each for a different range, Archytas held out for the catapult with a movable trigger mechanism, like that which had smitten his friend on the head. Their voices became so loud and so filled with passion that their landlady knocked on the door.
"Boys!" she cried. "Are you two quarreling? I won't have it!" Archytas opened the door with a broad grin. "Now, now, Rhoda dear, fear not! We're still the best of friends."
"Then why all this shouting?"
"You don't understand the engineering mind. It's just a little technical point. I can't convince my thickskinned comrade that the President won't accept a—well—ah—never mind. Good night!" He closed the door and turned back to Zopyros, waving a clenched fist. "You idiot, don't you see? All you have to do is use a thicker dart, or put flanges on it—"
Zopyros held his head. "Old boy, my head is splitting, and I can't think straight. Look, for a year I've worked like a helot for Dionysios, without a single real vacation. Why don't you ask him to let me go for a ten-day?"
Archytas pursed his lips. "Now that's a feasible idea. What's the use of having a friend among the higher-ups if you don't use him?"
"Sure. Tell him I need to get off by myself and think."
Archytas laughed. "He'll assume you mean to think about his problems, but I know what you'll be thinking about. You'd better write those people in Messana you're coming."
On the fifteenth of Elaphebolion, Zopyros arrived at Xanthos' house in Messana. As soon as he entered the house, Korinna flew into his arms. Glaukos slapped his back, and little Ahiram—now renamed Hieron—danced around him, waiting for his hug.
After dinner, when the women had retired, Zopyros asked Xanthos: "Sir, how goes my suit?"
Xanthos stroked his beard. "Very well, I am happy to say. Your father and I have come to terms."
"Then shall I look forward to marrying Korinna soon?"
"Were it not for the time of year, you could."
"What do you mean, the time of year?"
"Everybody knows that the most propitious date for marriage is the full moon of Gamelion. But that is two months past."
"Zeus on Olympos! Do you mean you expect me to wait till next winter?"
"That is right, Zopyros. As a conscientious father, I want the very best for my children. I want the best luck, which can only be obtained by heeding the rules."
"Why—why—you mean, to put off my marriage for nearly a year, all because of some silly superstition—"
Glaukos tried to signal Zopyros to silence, but in his excitement the latter ignored the warning. Xanthos roared:
"Superstition! You call the holy traditions handed down by our ancestors superstition? Why, you dog-faced young infidel! I won't have such an abandoned atheist in my family!"
"But I-but if—"
"Good night, sir!" Xanthos heaved himself to his feet and wheezed and puffed his way out of the court. "Now see what you've done!" said Glaukos. "I did rather let myself go," said Zopyros.
"Let yourself go! By the Heavenly Twins, you spilt the perfume! I'm sorry, because I think you'd make a fine brother-in-law."
"Thanks. What shall I do, Glaukos?"
"Wait until morning, I suppose, and apologize. Abjectly."
"You mean to crawl around like something from under a flat stone and tell your old man I really believe in his days of good and ill omen?"
"That's right. I don't say it will be pleasant for you, or even that it will work. But I don't see how else you can get Korinna."
Zopyros fell into a thoughtful silence, and Glaukos excused himself. Zopyros sat in the light of the rising moon, drawing his cloak around him against the chill. Then there was a stir. Korinna, likewise cloaked, pattered out. Zopyros told his tale.
"Oh, my dear!" she said. "Why couldn't you have passed it off with some noncommittal remark? Or invented a superstition of your own to balance his?"