Pyramid Scheme by Dave Freer and Eric Flint

“We were as quick as we could be. We had to dam the stream higher up. We knew it was the only way. No one can defeat a naiad in her own stream.”

He managed a smile “I’m just glad that you managed to save me.”

She dimpled. “I said ‘trust me.’ I just didn’t expect the naiad to want to keep you. I was very angry with her.”

He took another sip. “Why does everyone look so happy?”

She dimpled again. “Because nearly everyone is alive. And because we poked the gods of Olympus in the eye. And we are alive to laugh about it.”

“But . . . the balloon is in shreds,” said McKenna. He’d seen the remains on the way to the cave. “Your farm has been destroyed.”

She shrugged, which is very expressive in a spider. “We have Hera’s chariot. The iron axletree alone is worth three farms. The gold on it would buy another two!”

Arachne was full of good cheer and great satisfaction. “And the balloon, we can make again. But the prestige of the gods is in tatters. Mere mortals whipped their asses and taunted them—and got away with it! It’s never happened before. Never.”

She pranced about gleefully. “The tale—indeed, every word!—of Henri’s taunting of Zeus is spreading across Lydia like wildfire. The story will be repeated a thousand times, getting bigger every time.”

McKenna digested this. “I never thought about it that way. I guess I’m glad the Frog got to be a hero. He deserved it. I kinda misread the guy.”

She patted his knee with a gentle pedipalp. “You are a hero, too. My hero. And you do not understand what this will mean to the people. The Olympian gods are feared. Now it will be known that they can be thwarted.”

“Yeah,” McKenna nodded. “It’s doing it the first time that’s the hardest.”

Arachne smiled. “That’s what my mother said, too.” And then with no explanation at all she burst into tears.

Mac did his clumsy best to comfort her. The more he tried, the more she cried.

* * *

She had suddenly taken a deep sniff, gotten control over herself and gone away. To effect repairs, judging by the refreshed facade when she reappeared some ten minutes later. She was bright and cheery with just an undertone of brittleness. Mac, more to try and get her away from whatever subject was upsetting her, asked her what she thought he should do when he’d finished his hitch in the army. It seemed as far removed as possible a subject from the destroyed farm, which he thought must be what was upsetting her.

“You are not going to return to the farm?” she asked in surprise. “You said you had grown up on a farm.”

McKenna shook his head. “No. I enjoy the farm. No two ways about that, but I like the bright lights, too.”

She cocked her head. “The bright lights?”

“The city.” McKenna wished that he had one of those photos-turned-pictures from Cruz’s Vegas trip to show her. A picture could explain so much. “You know, lots of people, things to do.”

Arachne sighed. “Oh, I understand perfectly! I miss Colophon, for just those reasons. Father sent me out to the estate for my safety after . . . Athena did this to me. I used to wish I’d been born a man. I would have become the richest man in Colophon!” She smiled. “Sorry. I gather that wealth is not so important in your homeland.”

McKenna laughed. “You’re wrong there. There are no kings and stuff back in the U.S., but money is really how most people work out who counts.”

“It sounds very like Colophon,” she said.

McKenna nodded. “Yeah. It’s amazing, really. Everywhere else has been so different. Except it sounds like women still got a raw deal in your city.”

“What do you mean?” Arachne was slightly affronted.

“Well, like you were saying, that you wished you were a man so you could get rich. Can’t women get rich?”

She thought about it. “Yes. It is more difficult. It must be done through male intermediaries, and when a woman marries, her wealth passes to her husband.”