Chapter 2

Try again," Hephaestus said. "I am trying!" Ganymede said. "I tell you, I can't get through."

All the gods were clustered around their side of the interface, the other side of which was Pandora's box in Westfall's chambers on Earth. This was the route Zeus had taken to free himself, and now all of the gods and goddesses wanted out, but the interface refused to allow them through. Hephaestus, the craftsman of the gods, had tried various tricks to enlarge the passage. He had never worked on interfaces before, though.

It suddenly gave off a faint humming sound, and they all stepped back. A moment later Zeus walked through and stood before them in all his strength and glory.

"So the great man returns!" Hera said. She always had had a bitter tongue in her mouth.

"Peace, woman," Zeus said.

"Easy enough for you to say," Hera said. "You get to play your dirty little games out in the world while we stay imprisoned here in this hateful place. What kind of a chief god do you think you are?"

"The very best," Zeus replied. "I have not been idle. I have a plan. But you must do what I say, for your very freedom depends on it, and upon your cooperating rather than squabbling as you usually do. I understand Michael the Archangel is coming here soon."

"Hah! The enemy!" cried Phoebus Apollo.

"No," said Zeus, "a potential ally. He is going to come here and ask for something. We must speak to him reasonably and do what he requires."

"And then?"

"And then, children, it will be our chance to take over the world again."

"Ah, it's the new fellow!" Zeus said when Michael finally arrived.

The archangel found it hateful, the way Zeus referred to him as the new fellow — as if he were some recently jumped-up deity, rather than a spiritual being of a power equal to Zeus'.

"Mind your manners," he said to Zeus. "We still have powers capable of blasting you and your half-naked crew of sybarites to the deepest Hell."

"We just came from there," Zeus said. "Once the worst has happened, it doesn't have quite the same power over you as before. Anyhow, what did you want to see me about?"

"You are aware, I suppose," said Michael, "that a new power has entered the cosmic stage?"

"The matter has not escaped our attention," said Zeus. "What about it?"

"You know of this immorality play that the demon Azzie is trying to stage?"

"I've heard about it," Zeus said. "Seems a cute idea to me."

"If it has the effect on mankind that I expect, it will serve you no better than it will us."

"How do you figure? We Greek deities don't have much truck with notions of Good and Evil."

"This scheme is beyond Good and Evil."

"Well… So?"

"This scheme is not only amoral, it undermines the idea that Character is Fate."

"What? What was that?" Zeus asked.

"I thought that would gain your attention," Michael said. "But that is not all. Not only is Azzie's play going to prove that Character is not even Fate, but also it will demonstrate that the Unexammed Life is Well Worth Living."

"That is too much!" Zeus said. "How can we put a stop to it?"

"We need to pursue the tactics of delay," Michael said. "There's nothing I can do personally. I have already been warned by Ananke. But if you — or, better, one of your children—would care to do a little favor for me…"

"It would involve the Cyclops," Michael said. "I would have something similar to what Phoebus set up for Odysseus. Only this time better. After that I'll have another little job for whoever among you does storms and rain and high wind."

Athena thought a while, then said, "We divided that function among many gods, including Poseidon and you yourself, great Zeus."

"That's true," Zeus said. "Well, we'll assign the weather job to someone. Ares, how would you like a really natural way of making war?"

"As long as it hurts people, it's okay with me," said Ares.

"Now listen up," Michael said. "There are a few points you need to know about weather making."

Chapter 3

A woman's voice cried, "Found it!" and there followed a click. Moments later came the sounds of a fence falling.

Oliver rose to his feet to explore the limits of his confines.

There were no limits. So he began walking.

He wasn't sure where he was going, but since he had a Moronia spell he figured it would all come out all right. The spell pulled and tugged at him, and there was no doubt as to what direction he was intended to walk. He became aware that he was covering great distances. The spell began tugging him to the left, and he followed it.

Soon he was on a beach. He continued walking, and after a while he saw a great cave. There was something forbidding about that cave, and he thought to give it a wide berth, but then he saw a rustic sign nailed up above its entrance: RINGHOLDERS WELCOME. So he went in.

A giant sat on a stool just inside the doorway. "Have you got the ring?" the giant asked.

"Sure do," Oliver said, and showed it.

The giant studied it carefully. "Good, you're the one."

The giant got up and rolled a boulder toward the entrance of the cave.

"What did you do that for?" Oliver asked.

"Orders," said the giant, sitting down again on his stool.

"So what happens now?" Oliver asked.

"Believe me, you don't want to know."

"But I do want to know. Tell me!"

"I eat you," the giant said.

"You're not serious!"

"I am perfectly serious. Did you ever know a giant to kid around?"

Oliver said, "I've never done you any harm."

"It's got nothing to do with that."

"What has it to do with, then?"

"Sorry, buddy, but I've got the work order right here. Eat the guy with the ring. That's what it says."

"What guy with what ring?" Oliver asked.

"It doesn't say. Just 'the guy with the ring.' "

"But that could be anyone."

"Look, buddy, maybe they didn't have time to spell it out any more than that."

"But what if you get the wrong guy?"

"Well, that would be somebody's tough luck, but it wouldn't be my fault if I did."

"Of course not," Oliver said. "But they'd blame you anyway."

"How do you figure?"

"Don't they blame you anyway when something goes wrong, whether it's your fault or not?"

"You got that right," the giant said. He moved back into the cave. He had an easy chair in back, and a bed and a lantern.

Oliver looked around for a weapon, but there wasn't anything he could use. He did see, though, that a piece of paper was pinned to the giant's shirt.

"What's that attached to your shoulder? " Oliver asked.

"It's the dispatch ticket they gave me."

"What does it say?"

"Just that I'm to stay here till the guy with the ring shows up."

"Does it say anything else?"

"Not that I can see."

"Let me look."

The giant didn't think this was such a good idea. He was protective of his dispatch ticket, and he wasn't about to show it to some stranger. Especially not one he was going to eat.

Oliver could understand all that, but now he was determined to get a look at the ticket. The only thing he could think of "was to offer the giant a back rub.

"Why should I want a back rub?" the giant asked suspiciously.

"Because it feels good, that's why."

"I feel okay," the giant said, though it was apparent he didn't.

"Sure," Oliver said, "I can see that you feel okay. But what's okay? Okay isn't much. It's almost nothing at all. How would you like to feel good?"

"I don't know if I need this," the giant said.

"How long is it since you felt good? I mean really good?"

"I guess it's been quite a while. Nobody cares how a giant feels. Nobody even thinks a giant has feelings.