Pyramid Schemes

by Peter David

  As we rolled through the streets, we encountered many of the same individuals that we had passed as we had initially proceeded on our way. During the trip, the Rama repeatedly shouted, “All hail Apropos! All hail the hero who saved your beloved Rama!”

  The thing is, when someone riding a chariot and who is your absolute ruler shouts orders to you, it is the tendency of all within hearing to immediately obey. So was it in our case as the confused but willing Rogyptians bellowed, “Hail Apropos!” at the tops of their collective lungs. They naturally had no idea of the details as to why they were being commanded, but that was wholly beside the point. The Rama ordered it and he was accompanied by guards, so naturally everyone did what they were told.

  Except for Simon. Of course.

  I spotted him easily enough as we passed along, and his perpetual scowl was constantly in place. There was actually more to his expression than that: There was pure hatred in his eyes. My becoming a hailed hero was certainly not within the realm of what he had wanted me to accomplish.

  I managed to catch his eye and mouthed the words, Don’t worry. It’s under control. Unfortunately I had no idea if he was able to discern what I had said, or if he cared about my sentiments. If he had come to view me as an enemy—admittedly it would not take much to tip him in that direction—I had no doubt that I would wind up being kidnapped again and this time my triumphant return would be as a head stuffed in a bag.

  Within the hour we had returned to the palace. Apparently word had been sent forward as to my activities and my status as hero. Yes, everyone “knew” that I had rescued Nuskin, but that accomplishment paled in comparison to having saved the life of the royal family. As I walked through the hallways, everyone I encountered bowed to me and acted in a subservient manner. Even guards who had scowled at me when I had first arrived were now utterly obsequious. I had to admit, it was rather impressive to see this sea change in their deportment. I somewhat liked it.

  I made my way back to my chambers and stood there for long moments, wondering what my next move should be. And then, by superb serendipity, my hesitation as to what I should do next was resolved by Mane striding into my chambers, big as life.

  “Greetings, Apropos, and congratulations on—” That was as far as he got before I charged forward and grabbed him by the shoulders. His eyes widened in shock and astonishment, but I did not care about that. Despite the lameness of my leg, my arms were more than powerful enough to deal with Mane as I slammed him up against the wall, shoving my forearm across his throat and causing his breath to choke in his throat.

  “You did it,” I snarled into his face. “I know you did. You sent that mummy to attack the Rama and Clea. Why do you want to kill them?”

  His reaction to my words was extremely important because I was all too aware of the mindset of the type of person I was dealing with. The fact was that many of these sorts of individuals were quite self-obsessed and proud of their ability to deceive others. When confronted with proof of their perfidy, there was always a flash of satisfaction in their eyes that they were unable to hide because they were pleased with all that they had accomplished.

  I looked for that now in Mane’s eyes.

  Instead all I saw was fear and confusion. Borderline panic. It was possible that he was truly insane. That there was one

  part of his personality that was operating independently of the other part. But I didn’t think that was the case. He might be many things, but totally crazy didn’t strike me as one of them.

  “What are you talking about?” he managed to say, his voice barely coming out as a hoarse whisper. That made sense, since I was pressing my arm against his throat.

  “The mummy that attacked us. You were the one who cast the spell that enabled it to do so.”

  He barely managed to shake his head in the negative. “I don’t know what you mean…I serve the Rama…I would never…I…”

  Then his eyes were starting to roll up into his head. He was on the verge of passing out.

  I withdrew my arm and stepped back, and Mane sank to the floor, coughing and gasping. He stared up at me in total bewilderment, clearly unable to understand what I had been talking about.

  Still, I was not willing to let it go just yet. “Admit it,” I said. “You wanted the Rama dead and you wanted me dead. Perhaps you have designs on Clea, perhaps you don’t. But you need him out of the way, and if I die as well, so much the better.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” His voice was more or less returning to normal. “I have nothing but reverence for the Rama. I have dedicated my life to serving him.”

  “So you say.”

  “Yes, so I say. And I have done nothing to undercut that dedication. Whatever you think about me, Apropos, you are wrong.” He removed his hand from his throat and coughed several times to clear it. “I simply came here to congratulate you on your accomplishment. Not to be accused of…of crimes that I could not commit, even if I wanted to. I do not know any spell that could revive the dead. And if I did, I would certainly not use it against the Rama or anyone he cared about.”

  “Oh really,” I said, one eyebrow cocked.

  “Yes, really,” he said firmly. “I have no idea how in the world the mummy came back to life.” Then he paused, frowning. “This may seem like an odd question, but did the Rama bleed on it?”

  I was about to dismiss the question out of hand, but then remembered that he had indeed done so. That that large insect had bitten him and, when crushed on the mummy’s chest, a small spot of blood had resulted. “Well…yes,” I said. “But I do not see what—”

  “That’s it, then,” Mane said immediately. “It must have been part of the curse of the Moomy.”

  “The Moomy cursed the mummy?” I said with incredulity. “How is that possible?”

  “How is any of this nonsense possible?” he said. “Who knows how the magic of a wizard works? All I do know is this: many curses are blood activated. That’s why I was asking if the Rama had bled upon it. That blood must have triggered the curse. You were lucky to escape alive.”

  “Lucky,” I said shrugging. “One tends to make one’s own luck.”

  “All I know is this: you have narrowly avoided death several times since you arrived here. Whatever gods you have watching over you are doing a superb job.” He rubbed his throat once more and then cleared his throat again. “If it is all the same to you, I will refrain from informing the Rama about your assault upon me. I am certain that it was a rather strenuous endeavor and certainly played hob with some aspects of your judgment. Yes?”

  “Yes. Right.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose, still trying to sort out what sort of miraculous powers this generations-old wizard must have possessed to be able to somehow ensorcel a dead human being to come staggering back to life. “That is very kind of you. It was certainly an unexpected attack.”

  “Of course it was. Who could possibly anticipate a mummy returning to life?” He clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Thank you again for rescuing the Rama. My thanks, however, will not remotely have to be enough. I am quite sure the Rama will find his own ways to reward you.”

  “I’m sure he will, yes.”

  Mane walked out of my room at that point and I staggered over to my bed and fell upon it face first. The mattress beckoned to me and I sighed as I sank into it. I closed my eyes but moments later started awake as a vision of the mummy rampaged through my mind and jostled me to consciousness.

  Except it was not moments later. It turned out that I had slept for far longer than I had anticipated, because darkness was crawling across the sky.

  Ahmway was standing there, resolutely guarding the door. And even more surprising, the girl who had bathed me in the morning was pouring steaming water into the tub.

  “What are you doing here?” It was a general question to both of them.

  “I am here to protect you, as I have been assigned to do,” said Ahmway.

  “And I am here to bathe you,” the girl said in
that odd combination of chipperness and silkiness in which she customarily spoke. “The Rama wishes for you to be clean tonight.”

  I stared at her. She smiled.

  “Ahmway,” I said softly. “I think I would appreciate your waiting outside.”

  He bowed to me in a most formal manner and exited the room, the large door closing behind him.

  “Undress, please,” she said.

  I quickly did so and, as she gestured for me to do, slid into the tub. Moments later she had dropped her scanty clothing to the ground and eased herself in beside me. She proceeded to wash my back. Then my chest. Then the lower half of my body, and I was not remotely capable of holding back my arousal. Nor did she make the slightest effort to restrain hers as well.

  This time there were no doubts, no questions in my mind. I was sitting up as she clambered atop me and began to move slowly but then faster and faster.

  The door creaked open at that moment and to my shock and embarrassment, Clea strode in.

  I gasped into the girl’s mouth (not hard since her lips were atop mine) and I tried to shove her off, but the efforts of the upper half of my body were in direct conflict with what the lower half was in the midst of.

  I expected Clea to start shouting immediately. Or to scold me or have a fit or storm out or react in some sort of violent manner. After all, her fiancé was in the midst of having sex with some random slave girl.

  Instead, to my utter astonishment, she simply drew closer and cocked an eyebrow. “Continue,” she said casually, as if she had walked in while I was reading poetry to a group of children.

  “C-continue?” I managed to get out. My voice sounded so strangled it was as if Mane was endeavoring to return the favor of my earlier strangling him.

  “Yes,” she said and sat down on the edge of the tub. She dangled her legs into the water. “I have never had sex before, and I wish to observed it being done well so I can emulate it. Is it being done well?”

  “Oh…yes…no complaints,” I managed to say. The heat building within me was impossible to ignore.

  The slave girl smiled.

  “All right, then. Go to.”

  We went to. The last time I had had sex with people watching, I had been tied to a bed and there was a magic ring on my member. That was certainly not one of my more pleasant memories. This, however, was simply strange. Clea watched with fascination as the girl bounced up and down upon me, her small but firm breasts dancing in front of my eyes. I refrained from sucking on them because that seemed to be a bit much considering we were being observed. I built and built and then exploded into her and she seemed to be quite taken with the moment as well. My head sagged back so limply that I struck it on the flat stone tiling that surrounded the bath and nearly knocked myself unconscious. I managed to hold myself together and the slave girl clambered off me and extricated herself from the tub. I sat there gasping, staring at Clea, who appeared to be taking mental notes of some manner.

  “That was satisfactory to you?” she asked after considering what she had just witnessed.

  I managed a nod.

  “All right. Thank you,” and she was addressing the slave girl. “That was very educational.”

  “I was happy to help, your highness,” said the girl, and she bowed to Clea.

  And never saw the knife that was in Clea’s hand.

  “No!” I screamed, but it was too late. Clea’s hand came down and drove the knife into the slave girl’s back. The slave girl gasped and staggered and tried to stand, at which point Clea swung her arm down and around and slammed the blade deep into the girl’s chest. It sounded awful, like an overripe melon. The girl doubled over and blood seeped from her mouth. She was utterly stunned, unable to grasp what was happening to her.

  The door was thrown open and Ahmway entered. What a sight must have greeted his stunned eyes: Me, stark naked and dripping water, staring in horror at Clea as she yanked a knife clear of the chest of a naked young woman who was also sopping wet.

  The slave girl managed one final look at me with a gaze full of confusion and betrayal, and then she toppled backwards. She fell into the large sunken bathtub, splashing water in all directions. Immediately the water in the tub turned crimson as she bled out her life into it.

  I said nothing. I was too stunned. I just stood there, staring, leaning against a column to support myself.

  “Guard,” said Clea. She had not even turned to see who was standing behind her. She just simply assumed that the guard she must have passed when she entered the room had now come into it himself. “Remove this.” She tilted her head toward the floating corpse.

  Ahmway said nothing but instead simply nodded. I backed up, stumbling over to the bed and sat down upon it. I grabbed up a sheet and wrapped it around my middle as I watched. Ahmway waded down into the water, reached the girl’s wrist, and pulled her toward him. There was no sign of movement as the water grew redder with her life’s blood. Ahmway drew her to him and picked her up in her arms. She must have weighed next to nothing because he did not so much as grunt as he carried her out of the bath. Without a word he strode out of the room, leaving the door open behind him as he exited.

  “How could you do that?” I whispered. I was so appalled by what I had seen that I could barely form the words. “You murdered her.”

  “Yes. She was a slave. Her life was mine to take as I saw fit.”

  “No, it wasn’t!” I shouted at her. “Slaves are human beings as well! They are entitled to rights! Not to be cut down for doing nothing wrong!”

  “She had sex with my fiancé. How is that not wrong?” She sounded utterly innocent in asking the question, as if she could not fathom a response.

  “You watched! You sat there and watched!”

  “So that I could better serve you on our wedding night.”

  “But why did you have to kill her?”

  “Because,” she said so matter-of-factly that I was having trouble believing that we were discussing a cold-blooded murder, “of you.”

  “Me?”

  “Of course you. You were clearly enjoying your time with her. So much so that you would inevitably have been comparing my performance to hers. I have no doubt that she was far more proficient at sex than I would be because obviously she was far more practiced at it. In which case you would inevitably be drawn back to her. Before we are married, naturally you can be attracted to whomever you wish, but afterward that is not permissible. So I decided to solve the problem in advance by removing the temptation. Which I have done.”

  I could not understand it. “But…she was a human being!”

  “No. She was a slave. She owed her life and continued existence to my good graces. If I decided that she needed to die, then she needed to die.” She shook her head and actually chuckled. “You really do not understand how things work here in Rogypt, do you?”

  “Not how matters of life and death work.” I stared in horror at the bath that was filled with red water. I cleared my throat and then said, “Clea, could you…could you leave me now?”

  She blinked in surprise and then nodded. “Of course,” she said. Then she walked over to me, cupped my chin in her hand, and said, “You just need time to understand the way things are done here in Rogypt. You will adjust.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  She smiled. “Why, then I would have you executed, I imagine. But I’m sure it will not come to that.” Then she patted me on the cheek, turned, and walked out of the room.

  I sat there, shivering violently, trying to process all that I had just witnessed. Was she mad? Was that it? Was Clea simply insane? No, definitely not. There was no hint of madness in her attitude and deportment. She was simply disconnected from the reality of what she was saying. She wasn’t attached to the depth of her actions. She had slain poor…

  What the hell was her name?

  I was appalled that I didn’t know that. How could I not know that? I had had sex with her twice. It had been the last thing she ever did before Cle
a stabbed her to death. How was it that I had never asked her name?

  Because she was a slave. You didn’t think of her as a person. She was nothing but an entertaining sex toy…

  “Stop it!” I said angrily to my own mind. I was furious with myself for even contemplating such a thing. That mindset might have been the Rama’s or Clea’s, but it was definitely not mine.

  Isn’t it?

  If I could have opened up the top of my head and scooped out the offending portions of my brain with a spoon, I would have done so.

  I dressed as quickly as I could and bolted for the door, having no idea where I was going but wanting to get there as quickly as possible. Ahmway was standing there on guard, as always, but I spun and faced him. My lips taut with anger, I said, “I just need some time alone. Stay here.”

  “But—”

  “Stay here, damn you!” I snarled, and Ahmway froze where he was. I had never been more grateful so see another human being not moving.

  I started walking. I had no idea where I was going in the vast palace, but I knew I just needed to distance myself.

  No. No, I did not. I needed to seek answers to determine how in the world I was supposed to deal with the Rama and his sister. The Rama was detached from people and Clea was just a flat out murderess. For some reason she caused my thoughts to fly back to the Princess Entipy, whom I had initially concluded was murderous and out of her mind. Eventually I had realized that I was wrong, although the reality of the situation—namely that we were related in ways I could not have imagined—surpassed anything I could initially have come up with.

  And as my mind raced, I came to the conclusion that there was only one individual to whom I could speak about them. The one who had been with them the longest. The one who had practically raised the Rama from childhood.

  Nuskin.

  I felt as if I already had a bond with her. We had shared the experience of being kidnapped together, after all. Certainly she might well have some insight into some way of handling these two homicidal youths.