The Immortal (11 page)

"Yes."

"That's BS."

"It sounds a lot better than saying you spent the night on Mt. Olympus in your astral body."

"Tom, I am serious. How can you explain away this statue?"

He peered at it once more. "You definitely won't let me touch it?"

"No." I felt a wave of anxiety. I clasped the goddess 132

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closer to my bosom. "I think it could kill you to touch it."

Tom took a deep breath. "What does it feel like it's made of?"

"Why, marble."

"It looks to me as if it has some kind of crystal mixed in with the marble," Tom said.

He was right. How odd, I thought, that I hadn't noticed before the numerous crystal chips blended into the tiny statue. It didn't seem like something I could have missed.

"They weren't there before," I muttered.

"Josie—"

"All right, I might have missed them. But you've got to admit this statue is remarkable. You can't buy something like this in town."

Tom was thoughtful. "It does look unusual. But you're never going to get it out of the country without an inspection of some kind."

"What do you mean?"

"The Greek people have lost thousands of precious archaeological objects over the last thirty years as a result of people finding them and taking them home. You have to accept the fact that someone will handle that statue eventually."

"I'll bury it in my luggage."

"They X-ray the bags. An object such as this will jump out at their trained eyes."

"But no one must touch Sryope." I caught myself, sounding mad even to myself. I put the statue back in my bag. "I will cross that hurdle when I come to it."

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"What are you going to do now?"

"What do you think I should do?" I asked.

"Stay away from Delos. Stay out of small boats at night. Stay close to me."

I had to smile, he was so cute. I couldn't believe that I had moments before stripped naked in front of him. Really, I had just met him. He could have been an ax murderer for all I knew. I was worse than a promiscuous goddess, tempting the fates.

"To you?" I asked. "Is that wise?"

He reached over and took me in his arms. "Very wise," he said. "I'm your handsome youth Aeneas. I'm your god."

He kissed me—I let him. But my mood had shifted. My lust would have to wait. I suddenly knew that when I went to sleep that night I would have to witness Sryope's trial. I knew, too, that the verdict would be bitter.

"Don't be a god," I whispered in Tom's ear. "They don't have it so great."

134

The barbecue was great. I wouldn't have believed I could have so much fun, especially with Silk there.

But she was playing the perfect mom, preparing the food and carrying it out to be roasted on the fiery iron bars of the charcoal-heated pit: hamburgers, lamb, breasts of chicken, onions—all marinated in some greasy sauce that smelled OK as long as you didn't get too close.

Helen helped Silk by turning over the meat with a long screwdriver—it was all we could find—but only when my dad shouted from the sidelines that it was time. Of course, no one would let me do any work because I was still supposed to be recovering from my trauma. Some recovery—I had spent half of it trying to get laid. Tom promised me that next time he brought me to his secluded beach—tomorrow—he would have condoms.

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Pascal and Tom played Frisbee on the sand while they waited for the food. I hadn't known they had Frisbees in Europe.

Then we were all eating and talking and it was like the good old days, the ones that had really never been. I had
retsina
with my hamburger—I was developing a taste for it. I would probably be a drunk when I went home, I thought. Silk and I could go to AA meetings together and "connect" on that level.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I now import ten cases of
retsina
a month and drink four bottles each day when the final bell at school rings. I am a recovering Mykonos enthusiast.

I cornered my dad during the meal. He remained seated near the pit, apparently enjoying the hot smoke blowing on his bare legs. Far out at sea, a swollen red sun played with purple clouds. It would soon set.

The wind, though pleasant for the moment, was growing in strength. I had a fresh respect for the
meltemi
and didn't think I would stay out long. I hadn't exactly gotten my required eight hours the night before. I sat in the sand beside my father, still working on my first hamburger. I had ordered two but believed now that one would be it.

"I have more ideas for your story," I said.

My father smiled. His good humor over my rebirth was a thing that refused to go away. Everything I said made him smile. "You mean, our story," he said.

"We'll see. When we last left our hero, David

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Herrick, and his alien captive, Vani, they were preparing to land on the alien home world. David had just learned from Vani that it was highly unlikely that a sweet woman like David's wife, Jessica, would have decided to leave a hero like David. Vani says David's superiors put her up to it and David is inclined to believe her. Is that all correct?"

"Yes," my dad said. "We were stuck with what happens when they land on the world."

"I know that part," I said quickly. "David, using Vani as a shield and guide, quickly plants the bomb and starts the detonation cycle. He has maybe thirty minutes until it goes off. Then, taking Vani with him, he blasts back off into space. Almost immediately he is surrounded by alien warships. They are ready to blow him out of space when he tells them about the bomb."

"Go on," my dad said.

"David tells the aliens that he is transmitting a coded sequence of numbers to his bomb and that if he stops it will explode. This could be true, by the way. He could be delaying the detonation of the bomb with his transmission. David tells the aliens that they have to let him go or he will blow up their world.

Obviously, David has rigged it so that if they try to move the bomb it will automatically explode. He explains this to them as well."

"Go on," my dad said.

"They have to let him go but they can't let him go. They can't trust him to hand over the code once he is 137

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gone, so they are in a dilemma. But so is David. For all intents and purposes, he has been captured by the aliens."

"This is good," my dad said. "Do you have more?"

"Just one last thing. During this time, during this standoff, Vani struggles desperately to tell David something. But this something is one of those key points David's superiors have brainwashed her not to talk about. Like you said, she has the pain implants in her brain, and every time she tries to get the words out, she is struck down by waves of intolerable agony."

"What is she trying to tell him?" my dad asked.

"I don't know," I said. "I'm sorry."

He clapped his hands together. "This is wonderful. Not wishing to take anything away from you, Josie, but I myself had thought that the key to everything must reside in Vani. That she knows something that will stagger David and the movie audience. Something that will kill her to bring out."

"Exactly," I agreed. "When Vani does tell him the big secret, she will die. She has to—she won't be able to bear the pain, either emotionally or physically."

My father was excited. "Yes. The secret is devastating for Vani to speak. It is not something she would freely admit under any circumstances. This is all vital. It all fits. Josie, you are brilliant!"

I glowed under his compliments, as any daughter would when her daddy approved. "It's only because I have the best teacher in the whole world," I said.

Right then we were interrupted. Silk had another

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hamburger for me. "Don't you want it?" she asked, holding it on a paper plate in front of my face. "You asked for two."

"I cooked it specially for you," Helen called from a nearby table, where she was stuffing herself beside Pascal and Tom. "It's extremely well done."

I had eaten most of my burger. Another bite or two and it would be gone. But a chill suddenly went through me as the wind brushed my bare arms. My fatigue was catching up with me. I would have to go to bed soon and I didn't want my stomach totally jammed.

"I think I'll pass on it," I said.

"But we'll be wasting the food," Silk said. I think that, because she had had a major hand in the creation of the burger, I was personally insulting her.

"Waste not, want not," Helen chipped in, giggling.

"I'll eat it," Tom said.

Silk turned to him. "But you've already had two burgers. You'll make yourself sick."

"If he's hungry, let him eat it," I said, slightly annoyed.

"Tom is still a growing boy," Helen added after a moment.

Silk shrugged and gave the burger to Tom. I set the rest of my meal aside. My stomach wasn't in the best of moods. It must have been all the trauma I had recently gone through, I decided.

"Only one final key," my dad said. "Then we'll have it."

"It'll come," I said.

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"It will come through you," he said, admiration in his tone. "When do you think? At the end of the week?

The day we leave here? Your muse should visit us one last time, don't you think?"

I nodded. "Yes. But I think she will come sooner than that."

I went inside to bed. I kept my statue of Sryope clasped in my hands as I snuggled under the covers. I knew my dream of Sryope's trial would come. It would be a nightmare. There was no stopping it.

On the day of Sryope's trial all the gods were gath-ered on Mt. Olympus in the hall of Apollo. There was much excitement and gossip. Not since Pan had a god been killed by another god. Most of the gods already believed that Sryope was guilty of the crime, although Apollo had sent out a strict order that no one was to judge until the trial was over. Apollo was to preside over the trial, but he had decreed that all gods would vote on Sryope's fate. This pleased the gods who seldom got to vote on anything important.

Sryope was brought in chains to the center of the hall. Three days had passed since her capture on Earth by the Furies, and she had spent the time in a dark dungeon in Hades. She was frightened, but it gladdened her to see Apollo sitting on his throne in front of her, his robes white, his gold crown bright with the most precious jewels. She knew that Apollo had the 141

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gift of knowing when truth was spoken and when lies were uttered. She would simply have to say she was innocent and Apollo would defend her. After all, hadn't she worshiped at his feet since she was a child? There was no need to worry, she assured herself and straightened up tall before the assembly.

"Who accuses me?" she spoke defiantly.

"The truth does, Sryope, daughter of Thalia," a powerful voice rang out from one side of the hall. Out walked Minos, clothed in black robes, one of the three gods who judged mortals in the Underworld. The other two, Rhadamanthus and Aeacus, also dressed in black robes, were close at hand. Sryope was confused. Minos was concerned with the judgment of humans. Why was he at her trial? Clearly it was to spearhead the false charges against her. Sryope met his eyes as he approached.

"I did not kill Phthia," Sryope said to Minos. "She was my friend." She turned to Apollo. "Is this not true, O Lord?"

Apollo shrugged. "The assembly will decide what is true and what is false. You must defend yourself, Sryope."

The words stung Sryope, but she knew she was innocent and was confident she could convince the others. "I didn't kill Phthia," she repeated. "I don't even know how she could have been killed. Was she not immortal?"

At this question a stir went through the assembly. Most of the gods, Sryope could see, did not under-142

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stand how a god could be killed either. Minos stepped in front of her. His eyes, black as his robes, were set like ebony jewels in a face white as polished marble. "I am going to ask you questions, Sryope,"

Minos said. "You are to answer them truthfully. If you lie, and we find out you have lied, it will make your punishment that much worse. Do you understand?"

"I am innocent," Sryope responded. "Ask your foolish questions."

Minos was unmoved by her harsh tone. "You have already stated that Phthia was your friend. It is true that you grew up together?"

"Yes," Sryope said.

"You spent many years together?" Minos asked.

"Yes. Everyone knows that."

"During this time, did the two of you ever quarrel?"

"All friends quarrel at one time or another, be they in heaven or on Earth."

"You have not answered the question, Sryope."

"Yes. Phthia and I sometimes quarreled."

"Did you quarrel about Aeneas, who, I understand, is now your husband?"

Sryope hesitated. "It wasn't precisely a quarrel."

"Phthia was with Aeneas before you, was she not?"

"Yes."

"Did he love her?"

"In the beginning, I believe. You should ask him, not me." She could see Aeneas standing in the back of the hall, by the door. His face was distraught. She had not been allowed to speak to him since her capture at the hands of the Furies. The crones were also present, 143

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sitting near the front, by themselves. No one could bear to be near them. They emitted the foul stench of dried mortal blood.

"We may ask Aeneas, if it is necessary," Minos said. "But for now we will speak to you alone. Phthia was your friend, as you have stated. Did she love Aeneas?"

"I don't know."

"But being your friend, surely Phthia confided in you. How come you do not know if she loved Aeneas or not?"

"Phthia lusted after many men," Sryope said. "I do not know if she loved any of them, and that includes Aeneas."

"Do you love Aeneas?" Minos asked.

"He is my husband."

"You have not answered the question."

"Yes, I love Aeneas."

"When Phthia was with Aeneas, were you in love with him at that time?"

"I did not know him as well as I know him now. But I was fond of him."

"Were you so fond of him that you thought to take him away from Phthia?"

Sryope knew she had to speak carefully. Minos could call forth many gods to speak against her. She did not know who Phthia had spoken to about Aeneas. Sryope had spoken to no one of her interest in Aeneas until the day she married him. She had learned, on Mt. Olympus, it was best to remain silent about anything important.

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"My interest in Aeneas was one of friendship," Sryope said. "That is, until Phthia lost interest in Aeneas and resumed her old habit of pursuing multiple suitors."

"Then you formed a sexual relationship with Aeneas?" Minos asked.

"No. Before Aeneas became involved with Phthia, she made him swear an oath that he would remain faithful to her all the days of his life. I refused to become involved with Aeneas until I felt that oath was no longer binding."

"Did you go to Phthia and ask her to free Aeneas of his oath?"

"No," Sryope said.

"Why not?"

"I believed she would not forgive him the oath."

"So you thought of a plan to force her to revoke the oath?"

"At this time Phthia was with many others. Aeneas wanted to be with me. We were in love. Phthia had not been with Aeneas in a long time."

"You have not answered the question, Sryope."

"It was not a plan but a challenge. This is well known. Who could tell the better tale? Phthia or me? The contest was held here in this hall."

Minos nodded. "I remember. I was present. Tell me, if you won the contest, what were you to gain from Phthia in return?"

"She would forgive Aeneas his oath and we would be free to marry."

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"And if Phthia won the contest, what was she to receive from you?"

Sryope stopped to consider. The assembly might have suspected she had secret knowledge that would embarrass Phthia. Because of what happened at the close of the contest, a few must believe the knowledge concerned the identity of Phthia's father. Without her saying, most of the gods would assume she had forced Phthia into the contest. It was probably best she allow a partial truth.

"Phthia was to gain my silence," Sryope said.

"Your silence on what?" Minos asked.

"That I cannot say. I promised Phthia to not speak of it."

"But Phthia is dead. You may speak freely."

"Phthia was my friend. I will not dishonor her by breaking my promise to her. It does not matter to me whether she is with us or not."

Minos moved closer, his bony finger pointed at Sryope's face. "This secret you knew about Phthia— it would have led to her dishonor if others found out?"

Minos was shrewd, Sryope realized. He was trying to trap her with her own words. "Perhaps," she replied.

"But Phthia did not defeat you at the challenge. You are not bound to your end of the bargain."

"I have answered you. She was my friend. I will keep her secret safe in my heart."

At this Minos laughed. "You speak of friendship and your heart. It is clear to all of us that you used this 146

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secret to force Phthia into a challenge you knew she could not win." "I deny that."

Minos moved to score a point. "Then why was Phthia's only reward for winning the contest to be your silence?"

"It was all she asked for." She added, "Phthia had every opportunity to win the contest."

"Now you are being insincere, Sryope. No one on Mt. Olympus—even your mother, Thalia—could defeat you in telling stories. Is that not the truth, Sryope?"

"I have never made such a claim."

"You are too shrewd, Sryope. You let others speak for you so you can appear humble." Minos moved about the hall, making sure he had everyone's attention. "What was the nature of the story you told the day of your challenge with Phthia?"

"You were here. You know the answer to that question."

"I prefer to hear your answer."

"I told a story of a Fury who seduced a goddess and begot a child."

"Did this story have anything to do with Phthia?"

Sryope hesitated. "Not to my knowledge."

"You made the story up?"

"It came to me."

"How did it come to you, Sryope?"

"As all stories do. Out of nothing."

"Do you know who Phthia's father was?"

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Again Sryope hesitated. Tyche, Phthia's mother, was also present in the hall. Sryope assumed Phthia had told her mother where she had gained the knowledge of who her father was. Minos could question Tyche and learn this fact. If she lied now, and her lie came out, then she would be condemned for the murder of Phthia, even though she had had nothing to do with it. The gods would simply assume she had lied about everything.

Yet she had already stated that her story had nothing to do with Phthia. She could not go back on her word. She would have to hope that if Tyche was questioned by Minos, she would remain silent as she had done when Phthia had questioned her.

"I don't know who her father was," Sryope said.

"Do you know why Phthia reacted in the contest as if you were telling a story about her?" Minos asked.

"No. Except—"

"Except what?"

"Many times a listener hears a story and sees a part of themselves in the tale, even when the storyteller has no knowledge of the listener."

"Do you think that's what happened to Phthia the day of the contest?" Minos asked.

"I don't know."

"Did you ever see Phthia after that day?"

"No, I did not."

"Did Phthia ever release Aeneas from his oath?"

"Aeneas was to be free of his oath if Phthia lost the contest. This Phthia stated publicly. Phthia ran from 148

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the contest—she did not try to compete with me. Therefore, I felt, as did Aeneas, that the oath was no longer binding."

Minos moved close again. "You are fond of mortals, are you not, Sryope?"

"I am."

"Your husband, Aeneas, is half mortal, isn't he?"

"Yes."

"You make frequent trips to Earth, although few gods now visit there. Is that true?"

"Yes." .

"Why do you do this? What is there that attracts you?"

"I go to Earth to whisper my tales into the minds of the mortal writers and poets to inspire their work so that they, in turn, may inspire their fellow mortals to lead better lives." Sryope paused. "This was permitted by the great god Zeus himself."

"It was permitted in the past by Zeus," Minos said. "But he is long gone and the ways of men have changed. On Earth it is now the age of science, and mortals have no awareness of spiritual matters. Why, where is the man or woman who still worships us? Answer me."

"It is true that mortals have changed, but they haven't lost all awareness of matters of the spirit, as you say. Their modes of worship have simply changed, like so much else in their lives."

"Are there mortals on Earth anywhere who worship you?"

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"No."

"Then why are you so eager to give them your gifts?"

"I have answered this question. I help them so that they may lead better lives."

"Your motives are pure then?" Minos asked.

"If you like."

"Do you do anything else on Earth besides inspire writers and poets?"

"I sometimes go for walks."

"Walks?"

"Yes. In the woods and by the seas. It is a pleasure of mine."

"Do you mettle in the affairs of mortal hearts?"

"Not directly. But my stories can affect the mortal heart."

"In an evil way?"

"It is difficult to say what the effect of every story will be on every mortal. I believe the stories I give to the world are uplifting." Sryope glanced around the assembly. "Haven't I brought inspiration here?"

"I will ask the questions, Sryope," Minos said. "Do you ever turn one mortal against the other?"

"No."

"Have you ever inspired a mortal to hurt another mortal?"

"No. Such an act has been outlawed by Apollo."

"How many mortals do you work with on Earth?"

"Approximately two thousand."

"Do you know them all?"

"Yes."

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"Are they all successful in their crafts as a result of your aid?"

"Their success varies. Some are rich and famous. Others are simply happy to share their stories and poems with family and friends. I believe each in his or her own way has benefited from me."

"How do you choose who to help?"

"I am drawn to those who have passion for their work."

Minos stopped in front of Sryope. "You know I am also connected to the affairs of mortals. When their lives are done, my fellow gods, Rhadamanthus and Aeacus, and I judge which path they will take after death."

"I know this is so. But it is also my understanding that not all mortals who die come before you."

Minos was insulted. "Where have you heard this blasphemy spoken?"

"On Mt. Olympus. Many say this. Is it true?"

Minos was angry. "You are not here to challenge my authority. Do you understand, Sryope?"

"You asked the question. I merely answered you."

Minos's anger faded from his face, although Sryope didn't believe it was gone. He took a step backward.

"Before a mortal's soul is judged, a review of his or her life is made by us. It is easy for us to see everything a mortal has done. Right now I would like to show you, and the gathered assembly, the image of three different mortals. I want you, Sryope, to tell me if you know them. Do you understand?"