It was a beautiful, clear evening on one of the first days of winter. A haze of dust in the air lent tones of amber and rose to the
sunset, and the king never tired of surveying his kingdom in the soft glow of such an evening. He leaned forward on the
balustrade and stared dreamily out at the ruddy sun melting into the horizon.
Strands of his long white hair fluttered in the evening breeze, and he sighed, feeling the weight of his nearly three score and
ten years. Backed by the might of the Roman Empire, Herod had been King of Judea for more than thirty years. Although
those years had been productive, they had been tumultuous and dangerous too, but he had weathered every storm. He had
defeated invading armies, suppressed internal dissidents, and survived the labyrinthine political intrigues within his own
court. And now Mantikos had the gall to tell him that a new threat had arisen which could topple him, which could destroy the
kingdom of Herod the Great.
Herod shook his head sadly, drew himself up, and turned to look down his long nose at his advisor. Mantikos, a short,
balding man barely into his fifth decade, was a wizard with a computer and had served his king well for how long? One year?
Two? Herod could not remember exactly when it was that he had had Mantikos's predecessor beheaded, but certainly it had
been a long time ago. Was he getting soft in his old age, letting this advisor live for so long? Maybe it was complacency that
explained the man's impertinence.
"Mantikos," said Herod coldly, "don't be a fool. Do you truly expect me to believe that this ... what do you call it?"
"Year Zero demon, Sire," replied Herod's advisor, dipping his head humbly.
"Year Zero demon!" Herod snorted. "I'm supposed to believe that this 'demon' is going to bring down all our computer
systems? Plunge the kingdom of Herod the Great into chaos?" Herod laughed as if this were a bawdy joke.
"Well ... That is..." The little man began to stammer piteously, as he always did whenever the king scoffed at his opinions.
"You see, Your Highness, all of our computer programs, they ... they use a negative number for the year field. Certainly the
problem with that should have been foreseen by my predecessors when they set up these systems in the first place, but they
must have thought that the year Zero was so far off, they needn't worry about it."
A sly smile touched Herod's lips as he said, "They won't make that mistake again, will they?"
Mantikos gaped at his king and wiped beads of perspiration from the top of his shiny pate, unsure if this was a threat or a jest.
Herod let the tension hang in the air for a long minute, then a dark chuckle rumbled out of his chest.
Mantikos responded with an uneasy giggle in an effort to show how much he enjoyed the king's sense of humor. "No, Sire,"
he said, "I should say not!"
After being king for so many years, Herod should have been used to such fawning displays, but they never ceased to both
amuse and disgust him. He grinned wryly as he turned back to watch the last blood-red drop of sunlight wink out beneath the
horizon. Should not this annoying computer problem be as easy to snuff out? Without turning to face his advisor, he asked,
"Why can't the programmers just ... I don't know ... make the year field a positive number when we hit the year Zero? Doesn't
seem like that should be so hard to do."
Mantikos laughed nervously. This was not going as well as he had hoped. "True," he said, "Not in any one place, any one
program."
Herod smiled, pleased with himself and with the cleverness of his solution. "Good then!"
"But, but," Mantikos hastened to add, "as I've mentioned before, the three computer consultants I brought in from back east
found that there are literally thousands of places where the change must be made." Mantikos wondered why the king failed to
grasp the gravity of this situation. True, the forte of kings was generally the big-picture type of problems, not the nitty-gritty,
day-to-day operations of their kingdoms. But this "small" problem could have huge consequences, and the king had to be
made to see that!
Herod's response, however, was characteristically glib. "So get thousands of men to make the changes," he said, wearying
of always having to be the one to come up with the answers to every problem. What good were advisors if they could not
advise? He really had to get around to having this one beheaded so he could get a better one.
"Yes, Sire. Of course," Mantikos said. "An excellent plan. But the problem remains, what if they don't find them all?"
"All what?" Herod asked as he sniffed haughtily and pulled his robes in tight around himself to ward off the evening chill. He
resented the fact that at this time of year the air always meekly surrendered its warmth to the night as soon as the sun went
down.
"Why, all the places where there's a year field, Sire."
King Herod nodded. "Of course, Mantikos. So they just need to be sure to catch them all, don't they! Tell them that if they
don't, they'll all be killed." And a tight smile flashed across his countenance, which said, "There! That's settled."
"But Your Highness..." Mantikos began.
Herod silenced him with a quick wave of his hand. "Enough, Mantikos. Just take care of it."
Mantikos looked as if to renew his protest, then seemed to think better of it. He swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes, Sire."
"Good," said the king. He inhaled a deep breath of the crisp night air and turned to reenter his chambers. As he did, he
chanced to look up into the heavens. There in the twilight blazed a brilliant star, virtually alone in the indigo sky.
Herod frowned and, still looking up, said, "Mantikos? I've never seen that star before. How can that be?"
Mantikos looked up and blanched. "Oh!" he cried, his lips quivering uncontrollably. "Oh, Sire, this is bad. Very bad."
"What?" Herod demanded. "What's wrong with you now, Mantikos? You're shivering like a virgin." Herod decided that,
indeed, he must have this fool beheaded as soon as possible.
"This ... This can't be a good sign, Your Highness," said the little man, only slightly recovered from his initial shock. "It's ... It
must be an omen, Sire. An omen that the Year Zero demon will be the downfall of..." His voice trailed off, and he hid his face
in his hands as the full import of his words began to chill his heart.
Tomorrow, thought Herod. Cut his head off tomorrow and be done with the bastard. But he betrayed no sign of his decision
as he smiled and stepped into his room. "Perhaps it is a bad omen for someone, Mantikos," he said, then added haughtily,
"But not for me."
END
sunset, and the king never tired of surveying his kingdom in the soft glow of such an evening. He leaned forward on the
balustrade and stared dreamily out at the ruddy sun melting into the horizon.
Strands of his long white hair fluttered in the evening breeze, and he sighed, feeling the weight of his nearly three score and
ten years. Backed by the might of the Roman Empire, Herod had been King of Judea for more than thirty years. Although
those years had been productive, they had been tumultuous and dangerous too, but he had weathered every storm. He had
defeated invading armies, suppressed internal dissidents, and survived the labyrinthine political intrigues within his own
court. And now Mantikos had the gall to tell him that a new threat had arisen which could topple him, which could destroy the
kingdom of Herod the Great.
Herod shook his head sadly, drew himself up, and turned to look down his long nose at his advisor. Mantikos, a short,
balding man barely into his fifth decade, was a wizard with a computer and had served his king well for how long? One year?
Two? Herod could not remember exactly when it was that he had had Mantikos's predecessor beheaded, but certainly it had
been a long time ago. Was he getting soft in his old age, letting this advisor live for so long? Maybe it was complacency that
explained the man's impertinence.
"Mantikos," said Herod coldly, "don't be a fool. Do you truly expect me to believe that this ... what do you call it?"
"Year Zero demon, Sire," replied Herod's advisor, dipping his head humbly.
"Year Zero demon!" Herod snorted. "I'm supposed to believe that this 'demon' is going to bring down all our computer
systems? Plunge the kingdom of Herod the Great into chaos?" Herod laughed as if this were a bawdy joke.
"Well ... That is..." The little man began to stammer piteously, as he always did whenever the king scoffed at his opinions.
"You see, Your Highness, all of our computer programs, they ... they use a negative number for the year field. Certainly the
problem with that should have been foreseen by my predecessors when they set up these systems in the first place, but they
must have thought that the year Zero was so far off, they needn't worry about it."
A sly smile touched Herod's lips as he said, "They won't make that mistake again, will they?"
Mantikos gaped at his king and wiped beads of perspiration from the top of his shiny pate, unsure if this was a threat or a jest.
Herod let the tension hang in the air for a long minute, then a dark chuckle rumbled out of his chest.
Mantikos responded with an uneasy giggle in an effort to show how much he enjoyed the king's sense of humor. "No, Sire,"
he said, "I should say not!"
After being king for so many years, Herod should have been used to such fawning displays, but they never ceased to both
amuse and disgust him. He grinned wryly as he turned back to watch the last blood-red drop of sunlight wink out beneath the
horizon. Should not this annoying computer problem be as easy to snuff out? Without turning to face his advisor, he asked,
"Why can't the programmers just ... I don't know ... make the year field a positive number when we hit the year Zero? Doesn't
seem like that should be so hard to do."
Mantikos laughed nervously. This was not going as well as he had hoped. "True," he said, "Not in any one place, any one
program."
Herod smiled, pleased with himself and with the cleverness of his solution. "Good then!"
"But, but," Mantikos hastened to add, "as I've mentioned before, the three computer consultants I brought in from back east
found that there are literally thousands of places where the change must be made." Mantikos wondered why the king failed to
grasp the gravity of this situation. True, the forte of kings was generally the big-picture type of problems, not the nitty-gritty,
day-to-day operations of their kingdoms. But this "small" problem could have huge consequences, and the king had to be
made to see that!
Herod's response, however, was characteristically glib. "So get thousands of men to make the changes," he said, wearying
of always having to be the one to come up with the answers to every problem. What good were advisors if they could not
advise? He really had to get around to having this one beheaded so he could get a better one.
"Yes, Sire. Of course," Mantikos said. "An excellent plan. But the problem remains, what if they don't find them all?"
"All what?" Herod asked as he sniffed haughtily and pulled his robes in tight around himself to ward off the evening chill. He
resented the fact that at this time of year the air always meekly surrendered its warmth to the night as soon as the sun went
down.
"Why, all the places where there's a year field, Sire."
King Herod nodded. "Of course, Mantikos. So they just need to be sure to catch them all, don't they! Tell them that if they
don't, they'll all be killed." And a tight smile flashed across his countenance, which said, "There! That's settled."
"But Your Highness..." Mantikos began.
Herod silenced him with a quick wave of his hand. "Enough, Mantikos. Just take care of it."
Mantikos looked as if to renew his protest, then seemed to think better of it. He swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes, Sire."
"Good," said the king. He inhaled a deep breath of the crisp night air and turned to reenter his chambers. As he did, he
chanced to look up into the heavens. There in the twilight blazed a brilliant star, virtually alone in the indigo sky.
Herod frowned and, still looking up, said, "Mantikos? I've never seen that star before. How can that be?"
Mantikos looked up and blanched. "Oh!" he cried, his lips quivering uncontrollably. "Oh, Sire, this is bad. Very bad."
"What?" Herod demanded. "What's wrong with you now, Mantikos? You're shivering like a virgin." Herod decided that,
indeed, he must have this fool beheaded as soon as possible.
"This ... This can't be a good sign, Your Highness," said the little man, only slightly recovered from his initial shock. "It's ... It
must be an omen, Sire. An omen that the Year Zero demon will be the downfall of..." His voice trailed off, and he hid his face
in his hands as the full import of his words began to chill his heart.
Tomorrow, thought Herod. Cut his head off tomorrow and be done with the bastard. But he betrayed no sign of his decision
as he smiled and stepped into his room. "Perhaps it is a bad omen for someone, Mantikos," he said, then added haughtily,
"But not for me."
END
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