The Four of Cups:
Reflect on your past,
but don't dwell on it
XL
Luxury
This element water is not meant for static stability,
revealing the inability of water to form a structure
“Without a doubt, these facts are interesting, Idiot,” Jim said. “They leave little ambiguity regarding her intent—both in this mission and in her decision to remove me from the field by distracting me in the Pleasure Dome.”
“Yes, Jim,” Idiot replied. “But you are not the cause of Isis’s interference in present-day history. This was her decision. The Pegasus computers confirm it. Shaltain manipulated the navigational systems while simultaneously deceiving Isis into believing a viable return path existed. If she commits irreversible historical errors, there will be no Artemis to return to. Shaltain does not care. It has already calculated its own decommissioning as inevitable.”
“That means I am free to act against Shaltain,” Jim said.
“Indeed,” Idiot answered. “And I recommend that our highest priority remain the retrieval of the Pegasus and its return to its native temporal frame.”
Jim had done this before. His previous encounters with time displacement had required him to recover both the Pegasus and Isis herself from the past. Once again, history demanded repetition.
It occurred to him that Isis enjoyed this game. She delighted in watching how her brother unraveled the complications she engineered—how he absorbed the burden while she observed with amusement. Each time he succeeded, she exalted him publicly, praising his ingenuity, while privately he recoiled from her admiration. He wondered what trial she would devise next. Yet even as she angered him, she smiled—and that smile still ignited something dangerous in him.
There was no telling what Antiope and Helen thought as they moved through the night.
The land they crossed lay near the coast; inland were the Hittites, who revered the Amazon communities as sacred orders of priestesses. These women trained local temple initiates—human intermediaries who served as eyes, ears, and voices. We may call this interior land Anatolia, though the people of the time surely named it otherwise.
The maritime dominance of Amazon-allied kingdoms was no accident. The priestesses guided kings, and successful kings commanded fleets. The Amazons taught navigators to read stars, mark time, and measure distance. Learning centers under priestess control educated elites in medicine, agriculture, engineering, and navigation. Elsewhere, superstition dominated instruction; even literacy was rare enough to be considered an achievement.
Ilium stood as the capital of the Hittite realm. As the trio passed through Anatolia, bronze chariots thundered by, followed by cavalry.
“Out of the way, peasants!” a commander would shout.
Moments later, a wheel would fail.
Antiope and Helen laughed softly as the finely dressed officer tumbled into a conveniently placed mud pool. Jim found the timing impeccable—especially as it occurred while he was “occupied” speaking with Genie. Even the cavalry struggled to suppress their amusement, quickly straightening when their commander regained his dignity.
“Best leave the witches alone,” lieutenants often muttered, preferring not to provoke the wizard and his companions.
Antiope and Helen veiled themselves as Ayesha had taught them, assuming the guise of Amazon priestesses. Jim presented himself as their eunuch. He permitted the women to acquire what they could without Genie's assistance, supervising their careful integration into Anatolian life.
Jim had heard legends of a meteor that fell at Ephesus—honored by the Amazons as a holy sign. He knew better. Semiramis’s influence lingered here. Yet he was sworn not to interfere. What had occurred was fixed. His task was interception, not revision.
Another problem pressed upon him.
Isis existed in this same time frame.
He knew her location, and soon she would sense him. Open displays of “magic” would draw her attention. Yet Jim would not relax his enforcement of paradox avoidance. Isis and the Amazons would be returned home with minimal disruption. He would seduce Isis—take her willingly back—thus terminating her influence while allowing her the illusion of victory. Earth, she would believe, had simply matured into autonomy.
Jim did not care how she justified it.
Only the continuum mattered.
Fate showed no preference between the twins. Jim and Isis balanced one another—mirrors in opposition, bound in tension. Both could justify their actions convincingly. Perspective shaped truth as much as truth shaped action. Ends could not justify means; only means could justify ends.
Rather than wait for Isis to discover him, Jim chose surrender—on his own terms.
Antiope would unite the Amazons, allowing Jim to remove them in a single action. Helen would unite the Greeks and fracture the Hittite empire, a task that would require seducing a powerful king.
History, to them, was not followed—it was camouflaged.
“Antiope, Helen,” Jim said, “I must divert my attention elsewhere. Genie confirms you are well adapted. Can you manage without my supervision?”
Helen smiled. “You don’t need to babysit us. Genie's simulations are remarkably accurate. I intend to play my part fully. If all goes as predicted, you will retrieve me from the ruins of Troy.”
Antiope laughed. “You must slay the bull and elope with me. What of Athens?”
“The same as America,” Jim replied. “Let them govern themselves.”
“You’re incorrigible,” Antiope said. “Everyone knows democracy fails. Humanity needs a mother.”
“Men wish to impress the mother,” Jim replied. “They want approval.”
Antiope smirked. “Isis is calling. We hear her. It’s time to part.”
“Before you go,” Helen said, “leave us the Flying Dutchman.”
“Only with no passengers.”
“Agreed.”
“No sea combat.”
“Less fun—but acceptable.”
“No engines. Sails or oars.”
“Oarsmen?”
“Invisible ones.”
The Flying Dutchman was no longer merely a vessel. Under Genie’s governance it existed only conditionally—present when summoned, absent when ignored. To the world it would appear as rumor: a ship glimpsed at dusk, sails without wind, oars that disturbed the water without bodies to pull them. Genie regulated its mass, visibility, and temporal anchoring so precisely that it could be folded into nothingness between heartbeats. To history, it would never quite exist long enough to be proven
Weapons were issued.
Antiope’s bow would not miss.
Her axe could fell wood—or men—emitting adjustable electrical force.
Helen received a dagger and a ring—defensive, absolute.
“You can wear my ring to protect you. It will not make you invulnerable—but it will ensure you are never taken unwillingly.”
Genie’s protections did not merely block force; they anticipated it. Any hostile intent directed toward Antiope or Helen was resolved before impact—deflected, misdirected, or rendered irrelevant by temporal offset.
An infinite supply of gold was provided.
Final instructions given.
As Jim departed, he reflected grimly: Antiope and Helen, armed with Amazon craft and Venetian technology, were lethally persuasive. On this Earth, there would be no record of their deeds—only myth.
“Remember,” Jim said, “history must never know the truth.”
He vanished.
!
