Piers Anthony - Chthon

Aton looked around and saw faces suddenly haggard with fear. There would be hunger.

“Why?” Hastings called out. A few snickered bitterly; he would be the first to suffer from a tight market. “What set them off?”

“Because they gone crazy,” Bossman said. “They got some fool notion we got a blue garnet down here—”

“Tally knows there’s no such thing. What’s the matter with him?”

“Tally swears he’s got proof.”

Framy looked at Aton and leaned over. “You didn’t tell nobody—”

Aton shook his head. “Never said a word.” The evil is in me, he thought.

“Me neither. I went back after the salamander was gone and found one of them pieces. It must’ve ate the other. But I thought about what you ’n Hasty said, and I didn’t say nothing.”

Bossman was speaking. “Tally says they’re going to clamp down until they get that garnet. Ten chows from now it’ll be two stones per…”

“Great Chthon! They’d kill me for sure if they knew I had a piece,” Framy whispered, his body tense and shaking. “Somebody must’ve found the other.”

Aton thought, The chimera is the enemy you don’t see.

“…Ain’t going to take it!” Bossman was roaring. “I don’t like it no better’n you do. They think they got us by the—” He paused. His voice dropped. “But I got a plan.”

The cavern quieted. “We’re through trying to talk with those Laza-lovin’ weaklings,” he continued. “They been lording it over us too long. We been the ones doing the work. Now we’re going to put the callus on the other foot.

“We’re going to take over!”

He paused for the shocked commotion to subside. Revolution! Never before had such a thing been seriously conceived.

“First thing to do is bribe the guard at the hole. Now we got to pool our information, figure what’ll move him. Maybe there’s a woman, above or below”—his eye fell briefly on the black tresses provocatively draped over one breast of the woman Aton knew—“or maybe we can soften him a little some other way. We got to form a committee, take care of that. Next thing is the plan of attack. I figure we got to get five, six good men up there first, to hold off the softies in case they get wind before we’re ready. Once they’re stationed, quiet-like, we’ll haul up the rest in the basket fast as we can. No one stays below. When we move out, first thing we got to take is their ’denser. They’ll fall in pretty quick without water. Next objective is the ’vator; they might try to bust it and make us all starve. We don’t worry about them freaks in the private cells; just leave ’em be and they won’t notice the difference. Once we got control, we ship all the softies down here and let them mine the garnets—and if they can find any blue ones…”

Bossman went on, detailing plans in an atmosphere of growing excitement. He showed the qualities that made him a leader: no mere physical strength, but organization, practicality, enthusiasm, and ruthlessness. “But remember—this revolt is dangerous. If we try it and don’t make it, they’ll starve us out. Every one of us. It’ll mean the Hard Trek…”

“After the revolt,” Framy said, again almost dancing with excitement, “after we take over, know what I’m going to do?” The others gave him their attention, enjoying the discussion of grandiose plans. There were a dozen or so gathered at the mine, unable to concentrate on the work. Revolt day was coming; the decisive variable lay in the assignment of the Bribe Committee.

“I’m going to catch ol’ man Chessy by his white goat’s beard and I’m going to twist his head off until he learns me how to play that game.”

“You might have better luck with that li’l Prenty,” someone joked. “Bet she’d teach you a game.”

“No.” Framy was firm. “It’s got to be Chessy himself. Nobody else. We’re going to lay out the pieces and play in front of the whole Chthon, and when I beat him a game the whole Chthon’ll know I’m a brain and never did nothing wrong.”

They had the courtesy not to laugh. Each man had his secret desire, and many would look foolish in the open.

Hastings took his turn. “I don’t think I’ll fit through that hole any more,” he burbled, and the others smiled with him. The hole was a yard in diameter. “But if the rope doesn’t break when they haul me up, and the floor above doesn’t sink, why then—”

“I know!” someone put in. “He’s going to get himself ’pointed grinder on the ’denser!”

“To reduce.”

“Ma Skinflint’ll love that.”

“Love what? ”

Hastings patiently waited for these to subside. “Why then I’ll go to Laza’s cave. I’m quick with my hands, you know”—they knew—“and when she comes at me with that stone knife, why I’ll just pluck it out of her hand, and then…”

The others leaned forward.

“Then…”

“Get on with it, Hasty!”

“Then I’ll give her what she’s been craving so long, so she won’t ever forget!”

“What’s that, Hasty?”

“I’ll pay admission to see that. Hasty!”

“Don’t worry—you will,” another person said. “One garnet per throw.” More laughter.

Framy turned to Aton. “How about you, Fiver? What’s your piece?”

Aton looked around. He had been expecting a surprise twist from Hastings, and wondered what had become of it. The man had let them down with an unclever climax.

Garnet was standing quietly at the fringe. She too, it appeared, had misgivings about the future of the revolt. He felt the need to hurt her.

“Tally’s got a girl, Silly Selene,” he said. “Know her? She made a play for me once, but I had other business. This time I think it will be different.” They gathered in for the telling. “Pretty, yes. You never saw such beauty. A creature of perfection. Her hair takes life when she loves; her eyes become black and green as the deep oceans. As with the hvee, she blooms only when—” He saw their glances of puzzlement. What was wrong? Did they find this fantasy of a simple cavern girl so confusing? He shrugged it off, not caring what they thought. The revolt would never come to pass. “I found her at last. She had been masquerading as human, but once I unveiled her she had to hide from man. I took her to an asteroid cabin—”

“Not human?” Framy asked, puzzle-lines between his eyes. “Silly?”

“I suppose her kind evolved from human stock. Genetic modification—but she looked human, divinely so. The legends attribute strange powers, and some… are true. She can’t be immortal, but I think she is semi-telepathic.”

“She can read minds?”

“I don’t know. That would explain a lot of things. But it also makes her actions more paradoxical. She made me do terrible things. I loved her when I searched for her, but I hated her when I found her. She was destroying me. I did not dare to give her the hvee—”

“Ain’t that the little green flower them people wear? I never seen one.”

“Finally I left her and went home. I told Aurelius that I would marry his daughter of Four if only I could be cured of—of Malice. He was so happy he nearly expired. He was nearly dead from the blight, only holding on until I should return. He shipped me to a famous retreat planet.”

Aton looked up and saw Garnet listening intently. He had forgotten her entirely. For a moment he had self-doubt. Do I have any right to torture this woman? Don’t I owe her a warning, at least? Malice, Malice—you have made me a monster. You make me implement your name, and there is no escape.

Yet Garnet did not look disturbed as much as thoughtful, and there was not a sound from any of the others. What had happened?