Eric Flint - Pyramid Power

Thor thought hard. "To symbolize the movement of the whirlpool… but then why the other way?"

"Coriolis force!" said Emmitt. "It goes the other way in the southern hemisphere."

"Nope," said Jerry. "To dissolve the honey and make the tea sweet."

Loki cracked up. Liz scowled. Thor was still standing and tugging at his beard. "So: what you are saying is that we may do things entirely differently for the same reason? That despite our differences we have similar needs?"

"I suppose that's true. But what I was saying was that sometimes the superficiality of culture and tradition stop us thinking about things clearly and differently. They set our patterns of thought and hide the underlying truth. We come from outside your culture without that baggage. Maybe we can find the right answers."

"And there I thought that you had just found an opportunity to make a dumb joke," said Liz. "How I maligned you."

"Well, that too," admitted Jerry, grinning. "But seriously, I need more information, preferably inside information about Asgard, and about what Odin plans."

"I have a spy. A very greedy spy and I am nearly out of his price," admitted Liz. "One of Odin's ravens, Hugin. He's not the brightest, but he did tell us that you were being taken to Mirmir's well."

"What do you bribe him with? Roadkill?" asked Jerry.

"Sort of," said Liz. "You know how all our American stuff changed to being whatever was contemporaneous here?"

Jerry nodded. "It at least has to be within the framework of reference for the Ur-universe."

"Well, I had a large box of those multiflavored jelly beans. I bought them for Lamont and Marie's kids, not just because we don't get them in South Africa," she said defensively. "And one of the flavors they changed to is something quite gross, but Hugin regards it as a sort of gastronomic heroin. But I only have one left."

Loki coughed. "Ran, dear. Would there be any chance of using Grotti's handmill?"

The giantess who had been quietly listening nodded. "If you are careful." She got up and walked out.

"A grotty handmill?" Liz asked.

"As I remember the story," Jerry said, "some king of Denmark bought the mill and two giant slave-girls. The mill would grind out whatever you told it to. So he made it grind gold, but he did not give the slave-girls any rest so they ground out a horde of Vikings."

"Mysing's horde," said Loki. "A terrible menace."

"And Mysing set the slave-girls to grinding salt," said Thor.

"Salt?" Liz looked puzzled.

Jerry grinned. "It was very precious in those days. It was the chief preservative before we had deep freezes, Liz."

"True. We still salt tons of fish on the west coast in South Africa."

"And in those days the sea itself was not salty," explained Thor. "So Mysing made them grind salt."

"But once again he neglected to give them rest," said Loki, in a sing-song voice. "So they ground faster and faster until Mysing's ships sank under the weight of the salt, and they went on churning the wheels in a whirlpool, spilling salt into the sea."

"That's labor activism!" said Liz. "So what happened next?"

Loki shrugged. "The giantesses Fenja and Menja fell into Ran's embrace, which is what happens if you cling onto a millstone in the open ocean. The stones stopped turning before the sea became solid salt, and the stones found their way into Ran's net, as all the treasures lost under the sea do."

Ran came back carrying two enormous millstones linked with a rusty contraption.

"And here I thought I'd said goodbye to rusted bolts forever," said Lamont. "Give it to me. I'll do my best to fix it." He looked critically at the rust. "No guarantees, though."

"Lamont, if anyone can fix it, it'll be you," said Liz.

"Flattery gets you time sanding and oiling." Lamont tried to pick it up, and failed. "And I'll need some help from Thor and his belt of strength to carry it to the workshop."

Lamont restored the handmill to working order with some patience, a lot of swearing, more oil, and a grave shortage of Miles Davis to listen to. It was the latter he complained about most. "Unfortunately, I didn't find any giantess attached to it to restore. And the idea was plainly that with the heavy wheels, inertia would keep them turning. But trust me, starting them is not going to be easy."

"A job for you and me, Papa," said Thrud.

Thor looked alarmed. "It's hardly a job for a warrior. Or even a male, working a mill-stone."

Liz prodded him in the kidneys. "The times they are a changing."

"And not always for the better," Thor grumbled, taking the handle.

"Consider it an opportunity to get in touch with your feminine side, which every artist needs to do," said Liz. "You need it for your ikabena skills to flourish. And if you need more help with it I'm sure I can find you a mop."

Thor strained to look over his shoulder.

"What are you doing?" asked Thrud.

"Trying to look at my back," answered Thor.

"Why?"

"Well, I've seen my front," explained Thor, "and that's not the feminine side of me. It must be in the middle of my back where I can't reach."

For someone without a feminine back-side he churned the wheel very effectively. Perhaps he had one after all.

"It seems to have made them in all the flavors," said Liz, inspecting some of the jelly beans. They'd made an enormous pile-about thirty yards wide-and they'd barely set the wheels spinning.

"That's a relief," said Loki, "as you said the ones that the ravens liked were revolting, and you have enough here for bribes for half the ravens in Midgard." He picked up one of the beans. "What are the other flavors like?"

"Some of them are delicious. Lamont, lucky fellow, got Arctic cloudberry."

Loki put the jelly bean into his mouth, and chewed. Then, nodded appreciatively. "Very good, these. This one is like fine rakfisk. Delicious! So what do the revolting ones taste like?"

It was all a question of what you were used to and had been brought up with, Liz supposed. But she decided it would be wise to avoid answering Loki's question. "Well, we have bribes aplenty. I think I probably have provisions for an army."

A little later Jerry sat with Liz, on the cliff top, their fingers entwined.

"I need to work on Sigyn," said Jerry.

"Why?"

"Well, Sigyn and Odin are similar in a way."

Liz snorted. "What? Is one of her eyes false?"

Jerry grinned. "No, Odin would destroy everything rather than give up power and accept punishment. And Sigyn is just as implacable in her quest for revenge. She would destroy the entire universe rather than let Odin go unpunished. Loki wants vengeance. But if all the people in the world begged him… well, he might compromise. Sigyn, never. Odin must die. She might compromise on Heimdall, and she was prepared to let Skadi off the hook to a large extent. But Odin is non-negotiable. If the universe must die to kill him, so be it. So: Their reasons are vastly different, but the end result will be the same."

Liz grimaced. "Classic African dictatorship dilemma. Compromise isn't possible, Jerry. Even if you could talk Sigyn into it, Odin would never agree. By the sounds of it, he's made so many enemies that if he stopped being top dog everyone would come hunting for a piece of his hide. Just like Mengistu or Mugabe or Charles Taylor, Odin either has to flee somewhere he can enjoy his ill-gotten gains in safety-or stay in absolute power. People like that will only flee if it is that or die, and they'll only go just before the absolute end with lots of dead bodies around them-if you manage to convince them that their precious selves will be safe and comfortable. Otherwise they'd destroy the universe rather than lose. They are the universe as far as they're concerned."

"I suppose so," Jerry chewed his lip. "Megalomania's not exactly limited to Africa, for sure. No other lives have any value to Odin at all."