Pyramid Scheme by Dave Freer and Eric Flint

A harassed-looking woman, with long and lustrous hair, opened the door. “Medea! Don’t say you’ve brought the unspeakable Jason and his crew down on me as well! This is all just too much!”

“I’ve left Jason, Aunt Circe,” Medea said quietly. “You were right about him.”

Circe hugged her. “Oh, my dear. I never did like him. But your father won’t have you back, you know. He was very upset about losing, and even more so about your half brother, Absyrtus.”

“Absyrtus got exactly what he deserved!” said Medea fiercely.

“Yes, dear, I know. That’s why I cancelled the blood debt. But your father didn’t think so. Anyway, come in. Who are these people with you? The new boyfriend and his retainers?” Circe said dryly.

Medea sniffed. “Not hardly! These are your nephews, Priones and Neoptolmeus. And this is Glauce, daughter of Creon, King of Corinth. Jason of the golden fleas put me aside so that he could marry her.”

Circe cocked her head and looked at the princess. “I take it you’ve got more sense than Medea? Wanted no part of that slob, ha. Good for you, girl.”

Her eyes ranged over the others. “And these strangely attired ones? I have never seen cloth so fine—or dyed in such dull colors. But I wish you hadn’t brought so many people, Medea dear. I have a house full of unwelcome guests already. I’ve gotten rid of them twice—and still they keep coming back! The nymphs can’t keep up with the cooking, especially with the other demands . . . ”

Medea smiled ravishingly. “Dear Aunt, these are Americans. The men love to cook and wait on the women.” Her own eyes ranged over them, appraisingly. They lingered on Cruz, perhaps a bit longer than any of the others. “As for the rest, they seem well behaved.”

* * *

Odysseus acted as if he were delighted to see them. “My friends! Come! Sit! Let Circe and her nymphs bring you bowls of pottage! Barley meal, good sheep’s cheese and amber honey, all flavored with Pramnian wine!”

“Is this the same guy who promised to guide us and then ran off with Salinas?” asked Liz grimly.

Odysseus’ mouth fell open. “How is it possible that you can speak our tongue now?”

Liz smiled nastily. “Magic, you bottom-feeding creep.”

It was apparent that Odysseus, the noble son of Laertes, did not get such a description of himself very often. His hand was just falling to his sword hilt when Jerry added hastily: “And we had some help from Medea, the Sorceress of Colchis.”

Odysseus’ eyes flitted around, falling on the figure of Medea. Something about the woman apparently exuded sorceress, because Odysseus relinquished his grip on the sword instantly.

There were advantages, Jerry realized, to having a quick-witted man for an opponent. Even if he was completely treacherous, he was at least more likely to think things through before resorting to brute force.

“Besides,” the mythographer added forcefully, “according to the wager, you and your ship belong to us until we arrive where we want to go. You know how the gods feel about oath-breakers, don’t you?”

“That’s not the story you told me, Odysseus!” said Circe sharply.

“But you said, ‘Take us to Circe . . . ‘ My oath is fulfilled!” replied Odysseus, as righteously as he could manage. And, in the subtle fashion of a gangster, he set about displaying who held the balance of power here. “Right, men?”

Bitar pushed his head in through the doorway. He stuck out a long snaky tongue. “fSomebody pleafse come and fetch these fifsh. Thefse animalfs are trying to get into the chariot.”

As a rabble silencer, Jerry reflected, there is absolutely nothing to beat a dragon.

Odysseus’ eyes were flitting around again. “Well. Perhaps I misinterpreted our wager. But that was what was understood . . . ”

“We brought you some fresh fish, Aunt,” said Medea sweetly. “Two dragons are so expensive to feed.”

Jerry shook his head and smiled sweetly. “No specific destination was mentioned, Odysseus. This is just part of the route—not where we’re going.”

Odysseus looked sour. Circe did not, especially once Liz took her turn at Odysseus baiting.