Eric Flint: Pyramid Power

Instructions came at 4:00 AM to move the detainees to a more secure secret location, while the dragons slept peacefully on the firing range. Not even the arrival of a cold front disturbed them.

Eric Flint Dave Freer

Pyramid Power

"Harkness," explained Arachne, "is some prince of theirs. He was seized by the pyramid and has not come back. They plainly plan to try to rescue him. That means returning to our world, a world where the gods still rule."

"Albeit, under Typhoeus. We must stop this!" said Medea, between clenched teeth.

"Yes," said Arachne. "First, I'm not having Mac go there without me, and second, if he went with me, well, I might end up with great legs. Eight of them."

"And how will they get back? Without Throttler they have no way to return."

"True. We need to get there and stop this. But we don't even know where they've taken them."

"This Chicago place, I would guess. That is where the pyramid is. We were going to go there, remember, to see this Professor Tremelo, and Doc Jerry."

"Well, that is where we must go then. Is this isle far off? Where is it? I will call my dragons… I hope that the call still works."

"I hope it does. They could deal with these guards. It is a good sixty leagues if I have it aright. A fair distance. We can maybe catch them while they travel-but these Americans travel faster than the Greeks or my people did. Anyway, long journey or no, it must be done. I will poison the wakeful one, and you can cut the sleeper's throat," said Medea grimly. "We go, with or without dragons. I do not know if my powers to call them will work here."

Arachne held out the little vial that she'd gotten from the doctor. "With any luck you could just make all of them sleep. Or I can. They've tasted your coffee."

"I'll help you to cut their throats then."

"We probably should just bind them fast. We do not wish to start a blood feud if we can help it."

"Will taking them captive help? Have they value as hostages? I think they are lowly fighters. Mere slingers. And will that not be cause enough to send the soldiers of Cruz's Uncle Sam to seek bloody vengeance? Better to cut their throats and be done with it."

"They would have to admit they were bested by a pair of women and two small children," said Arachne, smiling seraphically. "I have noted that American warriors are no better than Greeks at that."

Medea nodded. "We had best dispose of their weapons, though. It will take them a little while to rearm. When do we do this? Tonight?"

"In the morning. They are all here at the dawn. The hour six, as these Arabian numerals show it."

Medea grimaced. "Priones has yet to learn to let me sleep past it. It will be easier than in the dark. Guards are more suspicious then. Very well, I shall call the dragons to me. Maybe they will come. Otherwise we will have to find charioteers and ships as need be."

Medea looked poisonously at the PSA agent. Medea was not someone you wanted to cross at the best of times, and waking her before dawn was a life-risk, no matter who you were. It was probably just as well that she was half-handicapped by a sleepy little boy in one arm nuzzling into her, and another holding onto her nightgown.

"Not without coffee," she said. There was a certain grim finality in that tone. "And over my dead body in my nightgown. If you try I shall scream. And my man's fellow warriors are not so far off, that they will not come. They will deal ill with someone who molests his wife."

"You can have a few minutes to pack up," said Agent Schmitt placatingly. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but these are orders from higher up. And I'll make coffee. I could use a cup myself."

She gave him a look that would have frozen a cockatrice. "I'm just instilling proper discipline into that coffee-pot. I won't have you spoiling it. Arachne is bad enough. She keeps giving it more grounds when it doesn't deserve them and hasn't tried hard enough with the old ones. I'll make any coffee in this house. You can sit here and drink it, while we take ours and pack our clothes."

Agent Schmitt decided it wasn't worth arguing about. When he tasted the coffee, he decided that that had been a bad decision. But it was hot and wet, and an extra spoon of sugar helped.

"See that they drink all of it, Neoptolemeus," said Medea, taking her cup.

So, under the unnervingly stern gaze of the seven-year-old-boy, the agents drank.

"The tall one is trouble," said Neoptolemeus righteously. "He did not drink all of the drink you made for him, Mama."

"Oh?" said Medea, calmly checking the edge on her dagger. That didn't worry the boy in the least, Arachne noted.

"Yes," said Neoptolemeus, nodding. "He fell over when there was still at least a quarter of it left. I tried to make him sit up and drink the rest, but most of it spilt down the front of his shirt."

"Those tablets must have been strong!" exclaimed Arachne, looking at her cup. She'd nearly reflexively taken a mouthful. And the doctor had said that they were mild!

"Well," said Medea, taking the cup from her hand. "I didn't know how fast they would work, so I used a potion of my own too."

"It's to be hoped that we haven't killed them," said Arachne.

Medea snorted. "Small loss. But it is not likely. And better that they fell asleep now rather than when they were driving those chariots of theirs. I think we must disarm them and bind them, just in case they do wake up before we leave."

"I wish I had some decent spider web," Arachne said as they walked out of Medea's bedroom to the lounge, where the agents sprawled.

"My new papa has rolls of it," Neoptolemeus informed her. "He calls it fishing line, though. I'll get it. I am not to play with it although he said he was going to show me how to use it, soon. I'm sure it'll be all right if you use it, though."

While he went off, the women searched through the pockets of the agents. Shortly they came upon shoulder holsters.

They looked at the firearms very warily. "Cruz has showed me," said Medea. "Within are small metal arrows. You release them thus." She removed the clip, and put it carefully aside.

"I found some more of those," said Arachne. "What shall we do with them, and the guns?"

Medea's eyes narrowed. "The vacuum cleaner," she said. "It has a bag which it refuses to apply itself to. It is full of dust and scraps. Let them look in there. Cruz told me that the weapons have to be kept clean to work."

A little while later the firearms were being put safely into the dust-bag of the vacuum cleaner, along with the car keys, both from the victims and Cruz's own vehicle. "Now, you see that you look after those. You can bite anyone if they try to take them away from you," said Medea sternly. The vacuum cleaner huddled in its cupboard and looked nasty. Arachne had to admit that she wouldn't try to take anything from it, not even the dust it hoarded.

"And the clips?"

"In among that fiendish Lego-stuff that Cruz bought for the boys," said Medea cheerfully. "You could search for a year and not find the pieces you need." It was a vast barrel of Lego. A few shakes had the clips well-buried, and they went back to the sleeping agents. Priones was sitting eating his breakfast Coco Pops with supreme unconcern, as he sat between them and watched the TV, while his mother and Aunt Arachne continued doing the mysterious things adults did.

Medea looked at the card she had taken from the sleeping agent's pocket. "It is a powerful magical talisman of some sort. I saw the other one threaten the warriors with it. But it has his image painted on it, so it would be of little use to us. I think we should dispose of it. Here, Priones, take it to your favorite toy. You may work the magic handle. But only once, mind."

"He'd better take the other ones too, then," said Arachne, tying more knots in the inferior spider-thread from the reels. "And their mobiles."