Traveller Probo
80. 11th Century Constantinople

“There he is, the old prick. Just listen to him! He’s like a kid in a candy store,” muttered the pilot. He smiled behind his virtual reality glasses as he manipulated the controls that guided the drone to where it remained stationery, despite the winds that gusted from the sea. On the screen spread the vista of ancient Constantinople below, or as Professor Taylor sometimes called it, ‘New Rome.’ The pilot was assisted by a sensor worn by each of the Travellers and, by selecting Taylor’s identifier, the drone was able to pinpoint the Professor in the crowds that thronged in the heart of the old city.

The other UAV specialist checked the flight data and grunted in agreement. “You have to admit, though, this is pretty spectacular! Beats searching for dog-fucking Kurds.”

The pilot gave a snort of agreement and kept the craft steady as his partner manipulated the camera. The city zoomed to Taylor’s position where the men could be identified among the crowds. Below the drone the ancient chariot track, the Hippodrome, stretched in splendour, where bronze statues lined the track and shone on the afternoon sun. They could hear Taylor prattle on, sometimes in English and sometimes in Greek, “…and here it is, the Milion. Did you know, that the Milion is the place from which every distance in the Byzantine Empire is measured? This is magnificent, just magnificent! And to make the day even better, the Hagia Sophia! Oh my God! So different from the modern rendition. Look at the gilt dome and the glittering cross …”

The UAV specialist rolled his eyes and then killed the volume. “We have to follow him but don’t have to listen to his shit do we? That’s all going to be recorded anyway.”

The pilot smiled and took the craft a little closer to the impressive bulk of the basilica, the Hagia Sophia, its cross resplendent on the impressive gilded dome. “Our orders are to monitor, though we don’t have to monitor only Professor Taylor. Let’s try Captain McFee. He speaks less but will be the first to make any noise if they run into any trouble.”

The city stretched beneath them. The camera zoomed to a row of painted, marble statues that graced the opulent, colonnaded thoroughfare called the Mese. The co-pilot zoomed to a magnificent bronze sculpture of a chariot pulled by a team of horses. The red roofs then rocketed away as the craft ascended sharply. McFee was mostly silent.

“I thought this would be boring. You know, like observing any old town,” muttered the specialist. He had little to do but operate the camera and monitor the flight status. His responsibility was normally for weapons systems but this small craft lacked any.

“Okay,” sighed the pilot, “let’s get Professor Taylor on-line again. If he pisses us off, we can change channels again. We only have another hour before the other team relieves us anyway.”

Below them, the Travellers mingled with the people of an empire that was lost in time. Professor Taylor’s voice once more was heard through their headphones, “…and there are public fountains that act not only as water for the populace but for animals as well. As you can see, there’s a public bath where all citizens the right to bathe in the typical Roman fashion, though at this time in history, the habit is declining because of links to what is considered a decadent lifestyle. We’ll have to inspect these areas as, I’m sure, slaves will keep some of the pools heated while others ...” and the sound was killed as the co-pilot changed back to McFee’s feed again. They heard the occasional grunt and a mutter as McFee said, “Parker, watch to the left. Those lads. They okay? …”

“That old prick can drive me crazy!” muttered the pilot and his specialist chuckled and nodded.

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