Time Travelers Never Die - Jack McDevitt [74]
Like Sophocles.
The trash can stood beside the computer table. She looked at it. Allowed her irritation free rein. That someone would play this kind of joke.
She fished the manuscript out.
By Sophocles.
Scene one was set in the chapel of Apollo.
The chapel would have been located outside the walls of Troy so that soldiers from both sides could worship there. One version of the story maintained that Achilles had violated the chapel by killing the young Troilus within its walls.
In the play, it is early evening, and Achilles stands with the Greek priest Trainor just outside the chapel door, reluctant to enter because of his crime, wishing there were a way to appease the god, when he sees the beautiful Polyxena. “Who is she?” he asks Trainor.
“The daughter of Priam,” he replies. “She comes here every evening now. To pray for an end to the conflict.”
Achilles remarks that those prayers are probably in vain. But, in the manner of classical drama, he is hopelessly in love with Polyxena from the first moment. When he approaches her, however, she asks, “Are you not Achilles, destroyer of my people?”
It’s not a good start for a romance. But the hero is smitten with her. And of course no one could accuse Achilles of being shy. In a moving scene on the edge of the Trojan plain, he wins her love.
Polyxena sees an opportunity to use her influence with him to stop the war. But she blunders by taking her brother Paris into her confidence. And Paris sees an opportunity to take Achilles out of play. “I must talk with him,” says Paris. “Can you have him meet me in the chapel?”
Polyxena assures him she can manage it. When she exits, Paris looks out at the audience. “I would not betray my sister. Nor strike from the dark, which is a coward’s way. Yet it is the only way to bring him down. The Acheans without Achilles would be hawks without talons. They would still bite, but they would draw no blood.” It is a heartbreaking decision.
Aspasia’s heart was picking up. It might not be Sophocles, but it was surprisingly good.
Achilles is also weary of the unending war. But he does not trust Paris. “It is the will of the gods,” says Trainor, who shares the general impatience with the fighting. “They have provided a path whereby you might win back the favor of Apollo.”
Ultimately, Achilles accedes to the rendezvous and enters the chapel. Paris is waiting in the shadows with his bow. And Apollo guides the arrow. Polyxena collapses over the dying Achilles, rages against her brother’s betrayal, and brandishes a dagger. She cradles her lover’s now-lifeless body and raises the weapon. “Let us go together from this dark place,” she tells him.
Paris, seeing what she is about to do, pleads with her, but she cannot be appeased. She plunges the dagger into her breast and, within moments, Paris follows her lead.
The narrative, and the staging of the action, is very much in Sophocles’ mode. And the language is classical Greek. Aspasia doubted there were three or four people in the United States who could have gotten the details right. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble.
SHE called Miles Greenberg, who taught programming. He was an easygoing guy, recently divorced, lonely, but glad to be out of a marriage that had never worked. “Got a problem, Miles.”
“What do you need, Aspasia?”
“I have a copy of a play that someone claims was written by Sophocles. Is there some software that can do an analysis?”
“Of Sophocles?”
“Yes.”
“Who’s making the claim?”
“Don’t know. It’s anonymous.”
“And you want to do what? Determine whether it might be authentic?”
“Yes.”
“You can’t tell by reading it?”
“No. It’s not an obvious forgery.”
“Aspasia, it has to be a fake, doesn’t it?”
“Probably.”
“So it’s in Greek, right?”
“Of course.”
“A number of years ago, when they were trying to decide who really wrote Shakespeare, somebody developed a package.”
“For Shakespeare.”
“Yes. I don’t know what it looked like.