Traveller Probo
104. 11th Century Constantinople

“That change is coming in quickly,” said the pilot as he gazed through his virtual reality goggles and carefully managed the drone’s controls.

Observing the two computer screens, the other UAV Specialist noted that the image collected by the main camera hadn’t wavered. Far below, the crowded streets of the ancient city were revealed with crystal clarity. The second screen displayed the usual telemetry data and a more oblique image collected by another, smaller camera.

“Yesterday was crazy,” she smiled. “I wonder how the Travellers will handle the audience with Emperor Basil. They’ll have their open mics, so we’ll be able to hear if they’re okay. Pity we don’t have a clue what they’re saying.”

The pilot grunted and smiled. “When’s Professor Askar to arrive?”

The mission specialist smiled along at their private joke. Professor Askar was an arrogant ass who would probably be sick when he arrived. As one of three UAV teams allocated to the Traveller project, they knew they were the envy of the rest of the military as they were Travellers in their own right. Though they didn’t physically explore the city, they saw more than almost anyone else on this mission. Other than the actual Byzantium Travellers of course. “Any minute now. He wants to monitor the Emperor’s audience, live.”

The specialist looked across at the guards who rested, quietly vigilant outside of the camouflage blind that was the UAV base of operations. Nothing had disturbed them and it was expected nothing would. Other than the operators of the Unmanned Aviation Vehicle, those at the Area of Convergence heard and saw nothing of what the Travellers experienced. That was the domain of the academics and senior military personnel.

But all considered that to walk in the great city, merely kilometres away, would be wondrous indeed.

“Okay, they’re passing along the Mese and have just entered the Forum of Constantine,” reported the pilot.

“Roger, copy that,” responded the specialist, automatically confirming their location on the schematic map that was used as a location guide. Each Traveller position was indicated by glowing, red dots labelled with their names.

The Travellers walked the paved roads as crowds milled around them, Life was normal in ‘The City’. People ran errands, ate breakfast or, in the case of slaves and tradesmen, made repairs. Women shopped or collected water from fountains with specially crafted pots carried on their shoulders. Meanwhile, giant flat breads could be easily seen as they were delivered, balanced on the heads of baker boys.

But it was the buildings that really attracted attention. Churches with gilded domes and crosses, beautifully crafted statues grouped at street junctions or along decorative balconies, the massive Hippodrome and the researchers’ final destination, the Royal Palace.

The UAV specialist watched as the drone swept back above the Travellers. They were in constant contact with McFee but nothing seemed amiss. Following the incident with Mac’s team, they were vigilant for any sign of Varangian Guard. Though the famous guard manned the walls and the gates to the royal buildings, there seemed to be no unusual interest in the Travellers’ progress. The open courtyard in front of the Senate House and the public baths was crowded as usual, with many going to worship at the Hagia Sophia, the greatest basilica of the time. The golden dome was topped with a cross that seemed tiny on the expanse. “Wow, I never get sick of that,” murmured the pilot as the craft soared above. The grand building was a wonder to behold.

As the Travellers entered the complex of red-roofed buildings, gardens and courtyards that was collectively called the Great Palace, they heard McFee address them. “Okay guys, do your best. We’ll be under cover now and will proceed with open mikes. See what you can do.”

“Roger,” replied the pilot as he ascended for a better view. Backed onto the Hippodrome, the Great Palace was sensational, even when the cloud reduced their visibility. From their height they could identify individual palaces, such as the Bucoleon Palace by the sea, rumoured to have over 500 rooms. There were glimpses of gilded statues, mosaics in courtyards and armies of scurrying servants. The craft moved briefly over the choppy grey waters of the strait.

A sudden gust buffeted the small, sturdy craft and shifted their camera view temporarily.

Compared to modern cities, Constantinople was not large but its architecture was truly impressive. The UAV crew had researched the ancient city and felt enormous pride in it. To perform their observational role of ancient Byzantium was a privilege. From where they flew they could see food for sale and watch the faces of individuals who had been dead for a thousand years.

The UAV Specialist shook her head in wonder. It was sometimes too much to absorb.

The pilot gave a start of surprise, “Phew! What was that?” he exclaimed. The UAV was buffeted by another sudden gust that had the craft tilt suddenly. Designed to withstand most weather conditions, the UAV was a robust craft shaped like a thick cross, with the main camera at the junction and propellers at the end of each arm.

The specialist looked at the screen and saw nothing amiss. There was a spike in the wind speed indicator that suggested a sudden gust might have upset the craft, so she described the data.

The pilot shrugged, “Okay, I’ll just try to make sure we have a stable platform, because they’ll want as much live footage as we can get for the audience today. Professor Taylor said it might take place in the open, so we should be able to track them and provide some pretty stunning footage of the Emperor’s court.”

Professor Askar and his minder stepped from the Area of Convergence. The portly academic shook his head and, like everyone Transported, stood a moment in open-mouthed shock as he gazed at the forest. His guard nodded a curt greeting as the academic walked unsteadily to the camo-netting where he steadied himself for a moment. He looked dizzy and unwell. The specialist quickly stood and saluted smartly before she offered the professor a seat, which he gratefully accepted.

The pilot remained at his post, where he gave another gasp, “There it is again! What the hell is happening?”

Ignoring their guest, the specialist quickly bent over their table to monitor the screen as Professor Askar watched with interest. “What’s going on?” he demanded in Turkish.

The specialist promptly replied, “Something’s upsetting the UAV Professor. There might be unsafe wind gusts, though we’re trying to determine the cause.”

The craft suddenly lurched and tilted dangerously, causing the vision to swing away from the busy city streets below. There was a glimpse of a great, golden beak and talons, falling parts, and then the clouds as the UAV tumbled out of control.

The pilot cursed. Their last vision was of feathers and an eagle’s great eye, before the craft plummeted.

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