Mario came up to him, Teodora at his side. ‘I think he’ll do, don’t you?’ Mario asked Teodora.
The middle of that evening found Mario, Machiavelli and Ezio sitting around the big trestle table in Leonardo’s workshop. The peculiar artefact which Rodrigo Borgia had set so much store by lay before them, and they all regarded it with curiosity and awe.
‘It’s fascinating,’ Leonardo was saying. ‘Absolutely fascinating.’
‘What is it, Leonardo?’ asked Ezio. ‘What does it do?’
Leonardo said, ‘Well, so far, I’m stumped. It contains dark secrets, and its design is unlike anything, I would guess, ever seen on earth before – I’ve certainly never seen such sophisticated design… And I could no more explain this than explain to you why the earth goes round the sun.’
‘Surely you mean, “the sun goes round the earth”?’ said Mario, giving Leonardo an odd look. But Leonardo continued to examine the machine, carefully turning it in his hands, and as he did so, it started to glow in response, with a ghostly, inner, self-generated light.
‘It’s made of materials that really shouldn’t, in all logic, exist,’ Leonardo went on, wonderingly. ‘And yet this is clearly a very ancient device.’
‘It’s certainly referred to in the Codex pages we have,’ put in Mario. ‘I recognize it from its description there. The Codex calls it “a Piece of Eden”.’
‘And Rodrigo called it “the Apple”,’ added Ezio.
Leonardo looked at him sharply. ‘As in the apple from the Tree of Knowledge? The apple Eve gave to Adam?’
They all turned to look at the object again. It had begun to glow more brightly, and with a hypnotic effect. Ezio felt increasingly impelled, for reasons which he couldn’t fathom, to reach out and touch it. He could feel no heat coming from it, and yet along with the fascination there came a sense of inherent danger, as if to touch it might send bolts of lightning through him. He was unaware of the others; it seemed as if the world around him had grown dark and cold, and nothing existed any more outside himself and this… thing.
He watched as his hand moved forwards, as if it were no longer a part of him, as if he had no control over it, and at last it placed itself firmly on the artefact’s smooth side.
The first reaction he had was one of shock. The Apple looked metallic, but to the touch it was warm and soft, like a woman’s skin, as if it were alive! But there was no time to ponder that, for his hand was thrown free, and the following instant the glow from within the device, which had been steadily getting brighter, suddenly burst into a blinding kaleidoscope of light and colour, within whose whirling chaos Ezio could make out forms. For a moment he wrenched his eyes from it to look at his companions. Mario and Machiavelli had turned away, their eyes screwed up, their hands covering their heads in fear or pain. Leonardo stood transfixed, eyes wide, mouth open in awe. Looking back, Ezio saw the forms begin to coalesce. A great garden appeared, filled with monstrous creatures; there was a dark city on fire, huge clouds in the shape of mushrooms and bigger than cathedrals or palaces; an army on the march, but an army unlike any Ezio had ever seen or even imagined could exist; starving people in striped uniforms driven into brick buildings by men with whips and dogs; tall chimneys belching smoke; spiralling stars and planets; men in weird armour rolling in the blackness of space – and there, too, was another Ezio, another Leonardo, and Mario and Machiavelli, and more and more of them, the dupes of Time itself, tumbling helplessly over and over in the air, the playthings of a mighty wind, which now indeed seemed to roar around the room they were in.
‘Make it stop!’ someone bellowed.
Ezio gritted his teeth, and, without precisely knowing why, holding his right wrist in his left hand, forced his right hand back into contact with the thing.
Instantly, it ceased. The room resumed its normal features and proportions. The men looked at each other. Not a hair was out of place. Leonardo’s eyeglasses were still on his nose. The Apple sat on the table inert, a plain little object that few would have given a second glance to.
Leonardo was the first to speak. ‘This must never fall into the wrong hands,’ he said. ‘It would drive weaker minds insane…’
‘I agree,’ said Machiavelli. ‘I could hardly stand it, hardly believe its power. Carefully, after putting on gloves, he picked up the Apple and repacked it in its box, sealing the lid securely.
‘Do you think the Spaniard knows what this thing does? Do you think he can control it?’
‘He must never have it,’ said Machiavelli in a voice of granite. He handed the box to Ezio. ‘You must take charge of this and protect it with all the skills we have taught you.’
Ezio took the box carefully from him and nodded.
‘Take it to Forlì,’ Mario said. ‘The citadel there is walled, protected by cannon, and it is in the hands of one of our greatest allies.’
‘And who is that?’ asked Ezio.
‘Her name is Caterina Sforza.’
Ezio smiled. ‘I remember now… an old acquaintance, and one which I shall be happy to renew.’
‘Then make your preparations to leave.’
‘I will accompany you,’ said Machiavelli.
‘I shall be grateful for that,’ Ezio smiled. He turned to Leonardo. ‘And what about you, amico mio?’
‘Me? When my work here is done I’ll return to Milan. The Duke there is good to me.’
‘You must come to Monteriggioni too, when you’re next in Florence and have time,’ said Mario.
Ezio looked at his best friend. ‘Goodbye, Leonardo. I hope our paths cross again one day.’
‘I am sure they will,’ said Leonardo. ‘And if you need me, Agniolo in Florence will always know where to find me.’
Ezio embraced him. ‘Farewell.’
‘A parting gift,’ said Leonardo, handing him a bag. ‘Bullets and powder for your little pistola, and a nice big phial of poison for that useful dagger of yours. I hope you won’t need them, but it’s important to me to know that you’re as well protected as possible.
Ezio looked at him with emotion. ‘Thank you – thank you for everything, my oldest friend.’
22
After a long, uneventful journey by galley from Venice, Ezio and Machiavelli arrived at the wetlands port near Ravenna, where they were met by Caterina herself and some of her entourage.