by Peter David
“I do.”
“You are not one of our people. Who are you?”
I could have lied to him but saw no point in doing so. “My name is Apropos.”
The Rama seemed to roll my name around on his tongue. “I have never heard that name before.”
“Neither have I,” I admitted.
“There are answers to your question, but they will not be provided you. You are a lawbreaker.”
“I’m someone who fought for the life of an infant child unable to defend himself,” I said. “The kind of person that a true leader would be fighting himself to save instead of condemning him to death.”
Once more all of the courtiers gasped. The Rama actually drew himself up, his eyes widening in surprise. “You truly do not care whether you live or die,” he said in obvious astonishment.
“We have not known each other all that long. So were I you, I would not presume to tell me what I do and do not care about.” I fired an angry glance at the guard behind me. “Try attacking me face to face next time and see how well you do,” I muttered.
“Do you have any idea,” said the Rama, “all the ways that I can kill you? Or have you killed?” He was slowly approaching me, leaning on his cane as he did so. He winced as he walked. Not only was his leg not supporting him, but it appeared to be keeping him in pain. At least my leg was simply twisted and useless; it did not hurt when I moved. “How imaginative are you? Perhaps you have questions as to the details of the various ways you can be executed.”
“I have only one question, actually.”
“Really?”
“Yes. The question is: can you be trusted to keep your word?”
He seemed stunned that I would ask such a question. “Why would you care about such a thing?”
“That is my own business. If you are in the mood to answer a question, let it be that one.””
“Very well,” said the Rama after considering it for a moment. “Yes, of course. I, the Rama Lama, will always abide by my word. That is the decent thing to do. Does that answer your question?”
“Indeed it does,” I said.
“Good.” He nodded to the guard behind me and pointed to me. “Execute him.”
I didn’t have to turn to see the grin that must certainly have spread across the guard’s face. I heard his chuckle. He was looking forward to cutting down the obnoxious stranger who had dared to speak so rudely to their leader. Instead I reached into the folds of my clothing and produced the small, white ball that the guard had given me earlier. I knew that I was staking my future on the word of a young boy, and such creatures were notoriously unreliable. It was, however, the only option I had available to me. I held the ball high so that all could see it and declared, in as stentorian a voice as I could, “I wish for you to release me and harass me no further.”
Once again everyone in the place gasped. They were becoming somewhat predictable in that regard. Even the guard behind me sounded astounded, or at the very least genuinely put out. I said nothing but simply stood there with the ball held up so that it remained in the view of all and sundry. “That is my wish. Are you going to grant it?”
Rama Lama stared fixedly at the ball. “That is a ping pong.”
“A what?”
“A royal wish. Do you not know what it is that you are holding?”
“I know that it is supposed to compel you to grant the wish of whoever is holding it. That is the extent of my knowledge of this… ping pong.”
“Where did you get it? Who is the dead man who gave it to you?”
My gaze shifted ever so slightly and I saw across the way that one of the guards was sweating profusely. I recognized him instantly. He was the tall guard who had slain the boy. The infant’s murderer was standing right there, and in addition to the rivulets of sweat that had materialized on his face, his dark skin had suddenly gone deathly pale.
Fortunately for him, no one else had noticed his reaction. Their attention was all focused on me.
The Rama was obviously irritated that someone had handed me a means of getting out from under the death sentence he had cavalierly set upon me. If he was not going to kill me, then clearly he wanted to take the life of whoever it was that had afforded me the ability to avoid his condemnation. Which meant that I had the bastard. The guard who had mercilessly cut down a helpless infant was now going to be put to the death by the very individual whose laws he had been obeying.
His life was in my hands. All I had to do was give the word and he was dead. The Rama could cut him down, possibly right where he stood.
A slow smile spread across my lips. I envisioned him being cut to pieces by one of his own associates. Or perhaps it would be a gloriously slow death. I had seen some men executed by being buried up to their neck. That would certainly be a horrific way for him to die, being left to roast in the unforgiving rays of the sun.
All of that flashed through my mind.
My gaze continued to rest upon his face.
He was terrified. Very slightly, he was shaking his head “no” and mouthing the word “Please.” It was clear what was happening. He was begging me for his life, appealing to the mercy that I did not possess.
Except…
Except…
He was just doing his job. He was obeying the law.
Cold fury rampaged through my mind. Yes, granted, he was doing his job, but what sort of horrific job was it? Going around killing infants? What sort of unfeeling monster did that? Did he go home in the evening to his wife and children and they would ask how his day had gone, and he replied, “Oh, it went splendidly. I killed three helpless babies today. Their mothers wept buckets. What is for dinner?”
Except…
Was it true? Did he in fact have a wife and child? Or children? Would my words make the wife a widow, the children fatherless? Was he going to die because he carried out the law? Did he approve of the law? I could ask him, I suppose, but I was not going to have the opportunity since he would be dead.
Dead for doing his job.
Damn it. DAMN it.
The baby’s soul cried out to me for justice, and yet I was hesitant. Why in the world was I hesitant? The guard had done the deed. I had seen him do it. I had heard the baby’s cry be abruptly terminated by one slice of this man’s sword. Yet now, when his life was literally in my hands, I wasn’t closing that hand and squeezing the life out of him. What in the hell was wrong with me? Had I lost my edge? I had survived into my fourth decade because I had never hesitated to screw with anyone who irritated me or got in my way. Now I was balking at having the slayer of an infant dispatched.
Kill him. Just kill him. Point him out and put an end to this… I have no idea how long I stood there silently. The guard knew that I knew him; he was waiting for me to point him out. Once I did, he would be obliged to admit to the accusation. Even if he tried to deny it—and I doubted he would—his general disposition and outward appearance would certainly verify his identity. He would not be able to lie his way out of it.
“Well?” said the Rama.
I blinked my eyes several times. It brought me back to the real world and then I cleared my throat and said, “I’m sorry. I can’t identify him.”
I saw the guard out of the corner of my eye. He visibly sagged, clearly astounded. I could not blame him. I was almost as surprised.
“Why can you not?” the Rama asked.
“It happened quite quickly, and I did not get a good look at his features. He claimed to work for you but provided no specifics.”
“Was he a guard? A minister?”
“He did not identify himself.”
“And may I ask what service you provided him that he granted you a Rama Lama ping pong?”
“I saved the life of a child,” I said smoothly. We were in the realm of lies, a place where I was quite serenely positioned. “His mother was not paying proper attention to him and he tumbled into the river. I swam in and fished him out. Your man witnessed it and felt that I deserved a reward
. Was he wrong?”
Slowly the Rama shook his head. “No. He was not wrong. Saving a child is indeed a worthy endeavor. I commend you for your bravery.”
“Thank you.” I bowed slightly.
He studied me for a time. I did not dare to say anything because I was fully cognizant of the fact that I was still dealing with a thirteen year old, and such creatures were routinely motivated by whimsy to do truly awful things for no reason other than that it amused them. Then he extended his hand. “Return the wish to me. You have used it and have no further need for it.”
Slowly I approached him, never dropping my gaze from his. The look he fixed on me was quite intense, as if he were endeavoring to take apart my face with it. Not out of hostility, but more curiosity. That made sense, I supposed, since my features were quite different from what he was accustomed to.
I placed the ball in his outstretched hand. Then he asked me a very strange question: “How do you survive?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“With your deformed leg. I am surprised that you were not drowned at birth.”
“I’m told that it was actively discussed.”
“Yet you are here. How did you come here?”
I provided him the succinct tale of how I had wound up in Rogypt. I kept it brief as I was concerned that I might say the wrong thing and set him off upon me. I was not still fully confident that he would honor the wish that I had presented him. But he appeared to be listening to me quite intently, nodding at certain points to indicate that he was truly paying attention. When I finished, he once more allowed the silence to extend.
It was at that point that the young man standing next to him leaned in toward him and whispered into his ear. The Rama nodded slightly and then turned his attention back to me. “I am impressed by you. You will stay here in my palace for a time as my honored guest.” He clapped his hands and called out, “Ahmway!”
To my surprise, the guard whose face I had been watching immediately snapped to. He brought one arm up and hurriedly wiped away the sweat that had beaded upon his forehead and strode up to the Rama. “Yes, your excellency,” the newly named Ahmway said quickly.
“Escort Apropos here to guest quarters.”
Seeing the opportunity, I said quickly, “I could use an aide to serve me during my stay here.” I nodded toward Ahmway.
The Rama cocked an eyebrow. “Do you mean sexually?”
“What? No!” I said quickly. “Not sexually! Just to provide help as the need arises.”
“Yes, of course. Ahmway, you are to remain with Apropos and serve him in whatever need he requires.”
“By your command,” Ahmway said. He then nodded to me to indicate that I should follow him.
I did so.
I strode after Ahmway as he led me through the vast hallways. This place was much larger than any building that I had ever been in, and that included royal castles. More glyphs lined the walls, but I did not bother to study them. Instead I kept my eyes fixed on Ahmway, who was walking quickly but not so briskly that he would leave me behind. Eventually he turned sharply right and entered a room. I followed him.
It was marvelously ornate. A huge bed, the biggest I had ever seen, was against the far wall. There was so much exhaustion in my body that I could scarcely wait to collapse upon it. In the middle of the room was what appeared to be a small pool of some manner, and I could feel warmth radiating from the water. It was clearly a bath of some sort. “Looks nice,” I said casually, gesturing toward the pool.
Ahmway ignored the comment and turned to face me. “Why did you not give me up?”
“Give you up?” I tried to sound as innocent as possible.
“Do not engage with me. We both know you remember that it was me that gave you the wish.” His eyes narrowed. “Did you not care about the child that I slew?”
“Care?” My mood shifted abruptly and I advanced on him so quickly that the much larger man actually backed up, clearly startled, perhaps even slightly afraid. “Care? That you slew a helpless infant? Of course I cared, you monster. What sort of insane, unfeeling creature would not have cared under that circumstance?”
“I had no choice,” he said defensively.
“Yes, you did. You had a choice. You could have turned away.”
“And my partner would not have. If I had refused to obey the law, my partner would have slain the child, and then reported me to our commander. And he would have had me executed for dereliction of duty! Would you have explained to my parents why their son had to die in a pointless endeavor to protect a child who was also dead? Would you?” There was no belligerence in his face. Instead it seemed that he desperately wanted me to understand.
I suppose to some degree I did. Everything he said made an odd sort of sense. It was entirely possible that his partner would have indeed slain the child and then done exactly what Ahmway said he would. So if he had attempted to save the child, he would have been effectively ending his own life. Should he have done so? Would I have?
Of course you wouldn’t.
I sighed deeply and sank onto the edge of the bed. “All right,” I said softly. “All right. I understand. I cannot say I approve of it, but I understand.”
Ahmway let out a low, relieved sigh and sagged against the wall. “I am pleased to hear you say that.”
Shaking my head, I said, “I don’t understand, though. Why is there such a law in the first place? What possible reason is there to slay the first born children of the Shews?”
“You do not know.”
“Of course I do not know!” I made no attempt to hide my annoyance. “Obviously I am new here! How would I possibly know?”
“The law was created in order to save the entire future of Rogypt.”
“What?” I did not understand. “Why is the slaying of children supposed to have the slightest impact on the future of Rogypt?”
“There is a story involved.”
“Of course there is a story involved,” I sighed. “There is always a story involved. Fine. Tell me the story.”
And he did.
This was the story.
Chapter 4 Curse of the Moomy
Many, many years ago there was a Rama who was known as the Rama Yana. At the time when the Rama Yana came to power, the Shews were not slaves. They were instead simply another race that lived in Rogypt. They farmed, they marketed, they contributed to the general upkeep of the land. They coexisted with the Rogyptians, and the Rogyptians with them.
Now the Rama Yana had a beautiful wife. He treasured her above all others and his devotion to her was without bounds. Her name was Usana and her desires were limitless.
In those days, there were no pyramids anywhere. Rogypt was a relatively flat land, with the sole exception being the great coliseum where vast games were routinely held.
Usana would stand in the balcony of their residence and look out upon the land before her, and she would see vast tracts of nothingness. Finally Usana went to the Rama Yana and said, “We need monuments.”
“Monuments to what?” he asked.
“To you,” she said, meaning to herself. “To your greatness,” she said, meaning her own greatness. “We should have vast pyramids erected so that all who set foot in Rogypt know of your wonder,” she said, meaning her own wonder. For Usana was a young woman who was absorbed with her own beauty and abilities to provide pleasure, but she was also wise enough to know the ways in which she could accomplish her desires.
“Pyramids?” said the Rama Yana. “Those are ambitious undertakings. Who would build them?”
“Slaves,” said Usana.
“And from where would I get these slaves? We would need hundreds, perhaps thousands.”
Usana shrugged and said, “Conscript the Shews.”
“The Shews?” The idea had never occurred to the Rama Yana. “Why would I conscript the Shews? They have done nothing to warrant it.”
“I have heard many things,” said Usana, her voice filled with darkness and f
ear, which was quite the accomplishment considering she was hurriedly fabricating everything she was saying. “I believe that they are plotting against you. That they wish to overthrow the proper succession of the Ramas and make you the last of your line. What better way to control them than by forcing them into slavery?”
The fact that she was lying to his face never occurred to Yana. He was filled with both outrage and concern.
Still, he could not be certain. And so he went to his greatest advisor.
He consulted the Moomy.
The Moomy was a being of mysterious origins. Some claimed that he was immortal, although there was no concrete proof to that. Some claimed that he had magical powers, capable of transforming objects and people and supposedly casting formidable curses.
All anyone knew about the Moomy of a certainty was that he was quite tall and formidable, and he had been the Rama’s advisor for as long as anyone could remember. Indeed, it was the Moomy who had selected Usana to be the queen of all Rogypt. Usana had began as nothing, a poor girl from the most humble origins, and the Moomy had raised her up and brought her to Yana’s attention. And Yana had fallen in love with her and shared everything with her. His throne. Rogypt. Everything.
So the Rama Yana went to the Moomy and asked the towering advisor for his opinions on the subject. The Moomy did not hesitate: “Do as your queen advises, great Rama,” said the Moomy. “If it is her desire to see slaves build monuments to your greatness, who are you to deny her the opportunity?”
“And what of enslaving the Shews?” asked the Rama. “Is that truly the best way to treat them? They who have committed no offense against us that I am truly aware of?”
“I have heard,” said the Moomy, “that they are conspiring to remove you from power.”
Well, that was all the impetus that the Rama required.
He unilaterally declared that all Shews were now slaves of the Rogypt empire, and dispatched soldiers to enslave them. Had the Shews fought back, they would likely have been able to maintain their independence, for they outnumbered the soldiers. But the Shews were a relentlessly peaceful people, and their religion preached peace and living a life where they never went to war. So rather than battle against those who would enslave them, they submitted, convinced that the Rama’s mood would pass and he would eventually free the Shews.