Pyramid Schemes

by Peter David

I was out early, feeding the horses and interacting with them. They of course had no idea what was going to be asked of them this day, and honestly, neither did I. My mind was still whirling over what was expected of me. The bottom line was that I did not ultimately trust anyone who was asking things of me. Mane wanted me to throw the race, but I had no real reason to believe that he would free the Shews in response. The Rama wanted me to win and had made promises to me of vows that he would keep and money that he would reward me, but there was no way of knowing whether he would keep those vows. And Clea had simply sounded rather ominous in informing me that I would be well advised to triumph. So many people were expecting so many things of me, and ultimately I had no idea which way to turn. I was leaning toward keeping my agreement with Mane, but I could not say I was enamored of the potential outcome.

  “So what are you going to do?” I jumped slightly, the voice from behind me startling me. I turned and saw that Nuskin was standing there. I had no idea how she had managed to sneak up on me so completely, but I didn’t dwell on it. I glanced pointedly behind her. “No sign of your boyfriend, I see.”

  “Do not change the subject,” she said brusquely. She walked toward me, her sandaled feet kicking up small bits of dirt on the barren ground. “What are you going to do?”

  “About what?”

  “About this ridiculous bet.”

  “Ah. You know about that.”

  “Everyone knows about that,” said Nuskin. There was clear

  worry in her face. “The Rama is betting his kingdom on your team winning the race.”

  “I’m very aware of that.”

  “Can you?” There was no hint of nonsense in her eyes. “Do not give me some easy answer steeped in your own sense of your masculinity. Answer me honestly. Can you win?”

  “Honestly? I don’t know.” I patted the nearest horse affectionately on the nose. “These are good horses, strong and true. They move together well as a team. And I can keep control of them right enough. But I have no clue as to what I will be facing out there. Men of far more experience, most likely.” I smiled. “Too bad I couldn’t just drug them.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Well, it was quite a few years ago, but I was once in a situation where there was a joust…”

  “A what?” She frowned in confusion.

  “A series of battles between kni…between warriors. And I wanted to make certain that the warrior that I was assisting would win. So I took the liberty of drugging the horses.”

  “You drugged them?” She appeared shocked. “You mean you cheated?”

  “Well, if you’re going to go with the obvious word for it, then yes. I suppose so.”

  “But how did you drug them?”

  “I slipped alcohol into their feed. It was a rather clever strategy when you get down to it.”

  “But you cheated!”

  “Yes, you keep saying that.” I made no effort to hide my impatience.

  “That was not an honorable thing to do.”

  “I did not care about honor,” I said. “I still don’t, particularly. All I cared about was winning, and that was the way to do it. And it worked. So I don’t have any regrets on that score.”

  She was silent for a long moment and then she said, “So why aren’t you doing that now?”

  Because I’m planning to lose the race. That was the thought that went through my head, but naturally I didn’t tell her. “Because those were the actions of my youth. As you say, it is cheating, and the older I’ve become, the more I’ve endeavored to turn my back on the habits of my past. So no,” and I laughed at the idea, “I have no plans to drug the horses.”

  “That’s very wise,” Nuskin told me. “If you are going to win, then it is best that you do it on your own merits.” She paused and then said, “I suppose you tried to talk the Rama out of this mad wager?”

  “I did, but he wouldn’t hear of it. I’m assuming you’re opposed to it; have you tried? He might listen to you more readily.”

  She shook her head. “Believe me, as much influence as I may or may not have over Lama, I am quite aware of the way he thinks. It would never occur to him to walk away from any sort of wager. He would see it as an act of cowardice, and there is nothing more appalling to a teenaged boy than being considered a coward.”

  I was not entirely sure I agreed. When I was a teenaged boy, I was most certainly a coward and did not especially care who knew it or called me by such an appellation. Then again, I did come from a somewhat unique background. But I didn’t feel that this was an argument that I wanted to have with Nuskin. So instead I simply nodded and said, “That is very true.”

  “Well…best of luck to you, then.” She reached over then and patted me on the shoulder. Then she turned and walked away, and I gave her no more thought.

  Eventually Ahmway came to me and informed me that it was time to prepare for the grand processional, in which all the riders would assemble at the great ring and engage in one lengthy parade around the track. I had to admit, I was somewhat interested in seeing what this vast track looked like; the Rama had never brought me over to it, preferring me to practice in the area set up behind the palace. I returned to my room and found to my surprise that there was lightweight armor lying on my bed, waiting for me to put it on. I was not sure why in the world I would require armor, but mentally I shrugged it off.

  There was a leather breastplate that I assumed would afford me some protection, although I did not know from what, and gauntlets that, once on me, would cover the entirety of my forearms while leaving my hands exposed, the better to manipulate the reins. There was also a plumed silver helmet on the stand. It was long and would encompass the entirety of my head, and there was a purple feather in the top of it. It all seemed a bit ostentatious for my tastes, but when in Rogypt, do what the Rogyptians do.

  Ahmway aided me in strapping the armor onto my chest. “I heard about the bet,” he said in a low voice.

  “Yes, it’s becoming obvious that everyone has.”

  “Of course they have. The Rama told everyone who had a pair of ears.”

  I rolled my eyes. That was certainly damned typical of him. As if I didn’t have enough on my mind, it was likely that every single person in the place knew what was at stake. “Fool,” I muttered.

  “Why? You’re going to win,” said Ahmway with confidence that I could only envy.

  Once I was armored up, I returned to the horses and strapped them to the chariot. They did not fight me in the least, which I considered a good sign. Ahmway was there assisting me, and once they were harnessed to the chariot, I turned to him and said, “Where am I going now?”

  “I’ll show you,” he said as he clambered up into the chariot. I climbed in after him, snapped the reins, and guided the horses out of the corral.

  We made our way through the streets of the city. It was quite an easy endeavor because people scrambled to get out of my way. They undoubtedly recognized the imperial markings on the chariot and must have realized who was driving it.

  As Ahmway quietly provided directions, I continued to watch the reactions of people around me. Most of them were Rogyptians, but some of them were Shews, and I could see the looks of hopelessness and despair in their faces. Be strong. I’m doing all I can to set you free, I told them silently. Naturally none of them heard me. I was sure I saw a few familiar faces in the crowd, some of Simon’s men observing me, but none of them made a move against me. So that was a plus, I supposed.

  We rode for about half an hour. Finally: “Up there,” said Ahmway, pointing, and I saw what he was indicating. It was an impressive structure, all right. It was a vast, round ring, astoundingly tall, perhaps three stories. If that was all seating area, I was reasonably sure that it could accommodate every resident of Rogypt. People were already on line, crowding into the place. It was a most impressive turn out, although I supposed I should not have been surprised. After all, the leaders of a dozen countries were going to be there, as well as their own Rama, so
naturally it made sense that they would turn out.

  Some of them spotted me and started making a huge deal about it. The closer I drew, the more they shouted my name and pumped the air in a repeated chant. “A-Pro-Pos! A-Pro-Pos!” Over and over again, as if I were someone famous. As if I were a god.

  I had to admit, it felt good.

  I supposed that I had to credit the Rama for the spreading of my name and fame. That was certainly amusing, to hear those repeated chants as if I were someone of importance. But I imagined that to the Rama, that was exactly what I was. I was the father figure that he was missing, the elder brother that he never had.

  And I was going to disappoint him this day. I was going to lose and cost him his kingdom.

  Ahmway directed me around the back to a separate entrance for the charioteers. I wheeled the vehicle in and the path took me to a set of underground stables. Apparently I was the last of the charioteers there, because the area was already quite crowded. They were all of them dressed similarly to me, in leather armor and helmets. There were great differences in the helmets that I could see; each one was customized, presumably to fit the head of the individual sporting it. None of them even glanced at me, nor at each other. There was no chitchat, no interplay between the charioteers. Each one was busy bonding with his horses, giving them last minute oats or some other means of sustenance. The silence in the room was almost deafening.

  There was one who kept glancing over at me. Perhaps he couldn’t help it; I certainly was distinctly different from the others since I was the only one walking with the aid of a staff. I nodded in greeting to him but he simply ignored me and turned away. I shrugged it off. There was no point in dwelling on it. I had much greater considerations to worry about.

  I lost track of how long we remained in the waiting area. Ahmway had long departed at that point, not seeing that there was any way he could provide any manner of service to me in this place. I instead waited there patiently. The groomsman approached me with bags of feed for the horses and strapped them on so that the horses could enjoy themselves while they were waiting. It seemed a harmless enough endeavor.

  Then the keeper of the area clapped his hands loudly, garnering our attention. “All right,” he called out. “The procession is about to start. Once the music begins, we will lead you out one at a time until all of you are out and onto the track. Is that understood?” There were silent nods from all around. “Very well. Then let us do this for King, Queen, Rama and country!”

  There were ragged if not outright laudatory cheers from all around and then music began to play, blown through what sounded like extended horns. Slowly, one by one, we were guided to the vast double doors that provided entrance to the coliseum.

  As big as it had been on the outside, it seemed even larger on the inside. The stands were packed with thousands of people, cheering deliriously. The Rama himself was perfectly positioned in an imperial box that was dead center on the far side, situated right at the front. I would have thought he’d have wanted something higher up so that he could see the entirety of the ring, but no, there he was at the base. He spotted me, probably because he recognized the helmet, which was unique with its purple plume, and he waved at me enthusiastically. I tossed off a salute to him, not being certain what was the proper way to acknowledge a royal huzzah in the land of Rogypt.

  Clea was seated next to him, and Lucy Anno was behind him, leaning forward and whispering in his ear. He smiled, clearly liking whatever it was that she was saying to him. Clea, as near as I could tell, did not. She would occasionally glance in annoyance and even borderline anger at Lucy Anno, and said and did nothing to interact with her. I supposed I could not blame her. She saw the woman as a threat, and indeed why should she not? Lucy Anno was a threat and Clea knew that all too well.

  We slowly made our way around the arena, waving to the people as they howled our names in approval. I heard quite a few “Apropos!” shouts amidst the crowd, and I had to admit, it felt reasonably good. I was not exactly accustomed to having people bellow my name in approval. Usually when my name was being loudly declared, it was by someone who was angry with me for some reason or other. But here, now, people were cheering me. It was a most unusual sensation for me. I felt a swelling in my chest and realized that it was my heart. It was as if it was feeding on the acclaim.

  My waves became more enthusiastic. Even the horses seemed to be enjoying themselves. I smiled broadly within my helmet and nodded to people as if I could see them or discern them individually.

  I couldn’t help but notice the driver who had been glancing at me earlier. He was easy to spot because unlike the other drivers, his armor was dyed bright red, and his helmet matched. The man in red kept his attention squarely on me, and I could not for the life of me understand why. Perhaps he had heard something, perhaps he suspected something. Was he in league with Mane, maybe? That would answer the question. I did everything I could to ignore him because my concentration had to be focused elsewhere.

  Finally we made it all the way around the vast ring, having effectively greeted everyone who was there. The starting line was demarcated at one end, and it would also serve as the finish line. We were slated to traverse the ring ten times, and the first one over the finish was the winner. It was fairly straightforward.

  From my position, I could see the Rama watching me, waving at me. He was smiling broadly. He had every confidence that I was going to win, and no clue that it was my intention to betray him.

  The horses knew that a race was about to start. They were anxious to break into a gallop; they certainly had a sense of competition honed into them. Most of the other horses, save for the red man’s, seemed indifferent, even lackadaisical. I did not chalk that up to anything in particular; I had every confidence that once the race began, they would get up to full speed quite quickly.

  I became more and more aware of the Rama’s attention upon me. And the more I thought about it, the more I considered it…

  The more I came to the realization that I couldn’t do it.

  You have to. You HAVE to. My mind was shouting at me, trying to get me to cooperate with the promise that I had made Mane, and yet somehow I could not bring myself to commit to what I had promised.

  Part of it, I suppose, was the way that the Rama kept looking at me in such expectation, certain that I would not let him down. But I had to admit that there was something else involved as well, and that was Lucy Anno, herself. The famed, Lucky Lucy Anno, who was so beloved of the gods that she never lost a bet.

  I found that extremely irritating. The notion that the gods felt such a need to insert themselves into our daily existence that they favored this woman so that she was perpetually fortunate? It was bad enough that some god or other had felt the need to address me from a burning bush. But they also felt compelled to always support this particular woman whenever she decided to undertake a bet? That was just exceptionally annoying.

  How wonderful would it be if I were able to win this race, and thus effectively spit into the faces of the gods? Would that not be worth it?

  And perhaps I could convince the Rama to release the slaves. Anything was possible.

  The horses were now all lined up at the finish line. It was everything I could do to keep my team stable; they were so anxious to start running. Their spirits lifted mine. The more eager they were to go, the better it made me feel. “Steady,” I called to them. “Steady.” There was a whip hanging on a hook to my right, but I left it there. I simply wasn’t going to beat the poor creatures to get them to go faster.

  The red rider was half a dozen chariots over, but he was still glancing my way. I had no idea why he seemed so fascinated with me, and no answer readily suggested itself.

  The Rama stood then and the entirety of the cheering coliseum dwindled to total quiet. The Rama was holding a white handkerchief over his head and the silence seemed to extend for an insanely long time.

  And then the handkerchief fell from his fingers.

  The
horses barreled forward.

  I snapped the reins as hard as I could as the horses charged into the race. I suppose I should have developed some sort of plan about how to handle the horses. Perhaps start them at a moderate pace, allow them to conserve their strength, and then have them cut loose toward the end. But my mind was not working that way. All I could think about was to go as fast as I could for as long as I could, and let all of the rest of it play out however it did.

  We hurtled around the track as quickly as possible, and as I snapped the reins and urged more speed out of the animals, I started to notice something about the chariots nearest me. The horses were not running in unison. Some of them actually seemed to be staggering, and then to my shock two of the chariots began to skew toward each other. The drivers were visibly yanking on their reins, desperately trying to get the horses back on track, but were unable to do so. Seconds later the two teams collided with each other, the chariots slamming together, the wheels breaking as they crushed together. The horses kept trying to run but instead their legs became entangled with each other and the poor animals collapsed into a massive pile of horse flesh.

  I couldn’t believe it. I had no idea what in the world had happened.

  And then I did.

  Instantly.

  The horses had been drugged.

  It was Nuskin. I had told her what I had done at the joust and she decided to do the same thing to the horses in this race.

  Part of me was furious with her for interfering. The rest of me was exceedingly grateful. As the years had passed, I had never accrued any sense of fair play and never hesitated to cheat when and if it could benefit me. Obviously Nuskin felt the same way, and had thus taken it upon herself to assure that the chances of my winning had leapt exceptionally high.

  The only problem was that when I had drugged the horses at the joust, it had simply given the knight I was supporting something of an advantage. He still had to disarm and/or dismount the various knights that he had fought. And it had happened over a period of time, so the spectators had assumed that my knight had simply developed impressive powers of combat rather than that all of the opposing horses were off their game. That was not the situation that we had here. All of the horses were running simultaneously, and as near as I could discern, Nuskin had overestimated how much to drug them. Horses were staggering all over the course, stumbling into each other, crashing hither and yon. The entire thing was rapidly devolving into some ludicrous show of who-could-remain-moving-the-longest, and it was becoming clear that the winner of that particular endeavor was clearly going to be me.