Eric Flint - Pyramid Power

"Where do you put the anchor? Straight up?"

She shook her head. "Doesn't your ancient history explain cable lengths for laying off in strong currents? About six to seven times the depth."

Lamont laughed. "You know, we make a good team. What one member of group doesn't know, the other will, and we get to insult each other too."

In Asgard, the man the PSA agents knew as "Harkness"-gullible fools, they were, just as Thjalfi's new master had foreseen-held a conference with his new two acolytes. Thjalfi had to admit he liked having them here. He was in a position of power, but the Einherjar treated him as if he was a jumped-up servant, and so did the other As. Some of them-Njord for one-didn't bother to hide their contempt. And having Odin for a master instead of Thor was a lot scarier. One-eye behaved very strangely half the time, and he was alert and mean.

But he needed to concentrate on the matter at hand, so he summoned up the trapped spirit of Harkness to guide him. "Look guys, the other side appear to be managing a hell of a rate of troop build-up. And it's pretty apparent that they are too useless to do it by themselves. So it has to be that bunch of renegades over there. We need to put them out of action. They're aiding and abetting the enemy."

"There's the kids…" Bott fiddled with the crossbow that Thjalfi had provided him with. "But they'll probably be under tight guard now."

"Hugin and Munin say that they are," said Harkness.

"There is one other weak spot," said Stephens. "That's Lamont Jackson. His wife is missing. From what I could work out she was in a coma. Something about the thorn of sleep."

"I was there," said Thjalfi-Harkness. "She's in what you might call suspended animation. We've got her tucked away behind a fire-wall."

"Well, he's pretty worried about her," continued Bott. "She's got some kind of fast growing cancer. They reckon that she would be dead if it wasn't for this coma."

"Good thinking, guys. That's the sort of leverage we need. Let me go and have a talk with Odin about her."

"It's a good point, Thjalfi. I can see that she'd be a valuable hostage. But I have other plans for her, now that you bring it up."

"We could turn this Lamont," suggested Thjalfi slyly.

"Turn him? Is he coming toward us?"

Thjalfi shook his head. "No, I mean make him our spy."

Odin shook his head. "No. She will die too soon from what you have said, and he knows that. I have a better idea. The device," he touched the pyramid pendant, "says we need more reenactments, with belief. I will make her into the vector for turning their cause into a doomed Volsung-saga. Get me Sleipnir saddled. I will send Sigurd, both to his doom and to hers. Let the Andvari curse deal with them. It is strong enough. I just hope she is strong enough to survive for long enough to hand it on."

The smile was cruel. "It has blighted even my most powerful foe before this."

Sigurd the Dragon-slayer traversed a land abandoned to war and kinslaying. He thought nothing much of it. Thus it was due to be when Fimbulwinter came. And he had a good hoard of treasure and was better at killing than almost anyone else, thanks to the sword Gram. He even indulged in a sacrifice or two himself. Keeping the?sir sweet was a reasonably wise idea, seeing as Odin had helped his cause so much so far.

He wasn't that surprised to see the old man with one eye, a broad hat and his blue cloak, waiting for him. He bowed respectfully. "Hail, Allfather."

"Hail, Sigurd Dragon-slayer. You must follow the green paths up onto Hindafjall, to a great hall fenced in flame. There find a Valkyrie maid stabbed with Ygg's thorn. She slew men that He had not wished dead. Find her, if you can gain her. She is like no other there, her skin the color of copper, and her hair dark. Give her your ring, the ring you took from Fafnir's hoard, and take her into the lands of Midgard to the northwest. There is great battle and much honor to be gained there."

Eric Flint Dave Freer

Pyramid Power

"Ur-Greece," said Throttler, "is nothing like it used to be. The vineyards are taking the place over. Little Pan and Bacchus have been very busy. Anyway. It's a negative. I went and checked with Circe first, Medea. She sends her love by the way, and says she could use some more fish and a visit from your cooking Americans. She thanks you very much for the shampoo. And if possible she would like another one of those Landrace pigs. Your John Salinas did improve her stock, but he disappeared after the Krim did."

She looked cross, for a moment. "I had to fly all over to find Prometheus, but the same story. There were a rash of disappearances just after we attacked and conquered Olympus. Then we went to Ur-Egypt."

Bes took over. "Harmakhis was very cooperative. He confirmed the same thing."

"Bes dear," said Throttler, patting her breasts. "Do you think I should get one of those boob-jobs?"

Bes looked at his hands, at her frontage, at his hands. "They say that more than a handful is a waste." He looked at his large hands again. "So, maybe. If you want one."

"Well, I'd look carefully at fur-lined bras if you do," said Cruz. "Because from what we can work out this Norse Ur-Mythworld is as cold as ice, and then some. It's having some kind of three-year winter."

Throttler looked disapproving. "I don't like hiding my assets, and I don't like snow. Has the professor located a 'carrier' for us?"

"Yes," said Cruz. "One of the PSA operatives arrested by Fish and Wildlife. He's agreed in exchange for immunity from prosecution." He started rubbing down a dragon with a lifeboat oar acquired especially for the purpose. "Their scales are looking magnificent, eh?"

He was very proud of the way the two dragons were looking. It had been a tough interview with the officials and zoologists from Fish and Wildlife. But the fact that the two dragons were positively gleaming with a new metallic sheen and good health, and so obviously affectionate and happy, had won the biologists over. Eventually. The park might want them back, but the health and welfare of such irreplaceable creatures had to come first. It was a real tragedy that they could never be bred. Anibal Cruz was just glad that the Fish and Wildlife boys didn't know that Bitar and Smitar were planning on going along with the sphinx on her next venture. He was also planning to go. He had a stepson to fetch home.

His new commanding officer, Lieutenant Evans, put his foot down. "No, Sergeant. You can't. Not this first trip.

"With respect, sir. I can see Mac staying put. But we need a reliable, and uh, experienced soldier along. Throttler and Bes are not used to American military methods, sir. And we can't trust that PSA shit as far as we can throw him."

"I take your point, Sergeant. Also the point about the dragons. Dr. Gunnarsson has pointed out that they'll automatically have respect in a Norse environment whereas Throttler and Bes will have to establish it. But I think they'll do that quite fast. Let them go through. If they succeed in planting the Sphinx image… You can go on the next trip. My word on it."

As Cruz had seen Bes in his new down-padded jacket swatting a dragon that fancied his new epaulettes, he had no doubt about that. Bes looked like a short, squat Michelin man on steroids in that outfit. No sane Viking was going to give him too much trouble. And it did make sense. That way the pyramid got a minimum amount of energy. It didn't appear to register Throttler's flights in and out.

So Cruz had to wait, with the rest of the team, while Throttler and Bes went alone with the PSA agent.

"Some man with fake wings and hamstrung legs," said Throttler when they returned.

"Ah. Volund. Or as you might say Wayland," said Dr. Gunnarsson eagerly.

"Wrong way to land, you mean," said Bes. "I need thicker boots, by the way, Cruz. Wrong way to land shouldn't have argued about sky space with us."