Pagan Passions Read online

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The Great God Dionysus, Lord of the Vine, Ruler of the Revels, Master ofthe Planting and the Harvest, Bestower of the Golden Touch, Overseer ofthe Poor, Comforter of the Worker and Patron of the Drunkard, satsilently in a cheap bar on Lower Third Avenue, New York, slowly imbibinghis seventh brandy-and-soda. It tasted anything but satisfactory as itwent down; he preferred vodka or even gin, but after all, he askedhimself, if a God couldn't be loyal to his own products, then who could?

  He was dressed in an inexpensive brown suit, and his face did not looklike that of Dionysus, or even of William Forrester. Though neatlyturned out, he looked a little like an out-of-work bookkeeper. But itwas obvious that he hadn't been out of work for very long.

  _Hell of a note_, he thought, _when a God has to skulk in some cheap barjust because some other God has it in for him_.

  But that, unfortunately, was the way Mars was. It didn't matter to himthat none of what happened had been Forrester's fault. In the firstplace, Forrester hadn't known that the girl at the Bacchanal had beenVenus until it was much too late for apologies. In the second place, hehadn't even picked her; he'd kept his promise not to use his powers onthe spinning figure of Mr. Bottle Symes. But Venus had made no suchpromise. Venus had rigged the game.

  But try explaining that to Mars.

  He didn't seem to mind what went on at the Revels of Aphrodite--beingGoddess of Love was her line of work, and even Mars appeared torecognize that much. But he didn't like the idea of any extracurricularwork, especially with other Gods. And if anything occurred, he, Mars,was sure damned well going to find out about it and see that somethingwas done about it, yes, sir.

  Forrester finished his drink and stared at the empty glass. It had allbegun on the day of his Final Investiture, and he had gone through everyevent in memory, over and over. Why, he didn't know. But it wassomething to do while he hid.

  It hadn't been anywhere near as simple as the Investiture he had gonethrough to become a demi-God. All fourteen of the other Gods had beenthere this time; a simple quorum wasn't enough. Pluto, with hisdead-black, light-absorbent skin casting a shade of gloom about him, hadslouched into the Court of the Gods, looking at everybody and everythingwith lackluster eyes. Poseidon/Neptune had come in more briskly,smelling of fish, his skin pale green and glistening wet, his fingersand toes webbed and his eyes bulging and wide. Phoebus Apollo hadstrolled in, looking authentically like a Greek God, face and figureunbelievably perfect, and a pleased, stupid smile spread all over hiscountenance. Hermes/Mercury, slim and wily, with a foxy face and quickmovements, had slipped in silently. And all the others had been there,too. Mars looked grim, but when Forrester was formally proposed forGodhood, Mars made no objection.

  The entire Pantheon had then gone single-file through a Veil of Heavento a room Forrester just couldn't remember fully. At the time, his eyessimply refused to make sense out of the place. Now, of course, heunderstood why: it didn't really exist in the space-time framework hewas used to. Instead, it was partially a four-dimensionalpseudo-manifold superimposed on normal space. If not perfectly simple,at least the explanation made matters rational rather than supernatural.But, at the time, everything seemed to take place in a chaotic dreamworld where infinite distance and the space next to him seemed one andthe same. He knew then why Diana had told him that the word "machine"could not describe the Gods' power source.

  He had been seated there in the dream room. But it wasn't exactlysitting; every spatial configuration took on strange properties in thatpseudo-space, and he seemed to float in a place that had neitherdimension nor direction. The other Gods had all seemed to be sitting infront of him, all together and all at once--yet, at the same time, eachhad been separate and distinct from the others.

  He wanted to close his eyes, but he had been warned against doing that.Grimly, he kept them open.

  And then the indescribable began to happen. It was as though every nervein his body had been indissolubly linked to the great source ofGod-power. It was pure, hellish torture, and at the same time it was themost exquisite pleasure he had ever known. He could not imagine how longit went on--but, eventually, it ended.

  He was Dionysus/Bacchus.

  And then it had been over, and a banquet had been held in his honor, acelebration for the new God. Everyone seemed to enjoy the occasion, andForrester himself had been feeling pretty good until Mars, smiling asmile that only touched his lips and left his eyes as cold and hard asanything Forrester had ever seen, had come up to him and said softly:

  "All right, Dionysus. You're a God now. I didn't touch you beforebecause we needed you. And I don't intend to kill you now; replacementsare too hard to find. I'm only going to beat you--to within an inch ofyour damned immortal life. Just remember that, buster."

  And then, the smile still set on his face, he had turned and swaggeredaway.

  Forrester had thought of Vulcan.

  Mars wasn't a killer, in spite of his bully-boy tactics. He had too gooda military mind to discipline a valuable man to death. But he was morethan willing to go as near to that point as possible, if he thought itjustified. And what he allowed as justification resided in a code allhis own.

  "Right" was what was good for Mars. "Wrong" was what disturbed him. Thatwas the code, as simple, as black and white, as you could ask for.Vulcan was one of the results.

  Vulcan had been Venus' lawful husband, as far as the laws of the Godswent. That didn't matter to Mars--when he wanted Venus. He had thrashedVulcan, and the beating had left permanent damage.

  The damage was translated into Vulcan's limp. Any God's ability to healhimself through the machine's power was dependent on the God's ownmentality and outlook. And Vulcan had never been able to cure his limp;the psychic punishment had been too great.

  Forrester ordered another drink and tried to think about something else.The prospect of a fight with Mars was sometimes a little too much forhim to handle.

  The drink arrived and he sipped at it vacantly, thinking back to Dianaand her story of the Gods.

  There was one hole in it--a hole big enough to toss Mount Olympusthrough, he realized. Where had the Gods gone for three thousand years?And how had they gotten to Earth in the first place?

  Those two unanswered questions were enough to convince Forrester that,in spite of all he knew, and in spite of the way his new viewpoint hadturned his universe upside down in a matter of hours, he still didn'thave the whole story. He had to find it--even more so, now, as he beganto realize that the human race deserved more than just the "security"and "happiness" that the Gods could give them. It deserved independence,and the chance to make or mar its own future. Protection was all verywell for the infancy of a race, but man was growing up now. Man neededto make his own world.

  The Gods had no place in that world, Forrester saw. He had to find theanswers to all of his questions--and now he thought he knew a way to doit.

  "Want another, buddy?"

  The bartender's voice roused Forrester from his reverie. He hadabsent-mindedly finished brandy-and-soda number eight.

  "Okay," Forrester said. "Sure." He handed the bartender a ten-dollarbill and got a kind of wry pleasure out of seeing the picture ofDionysus on its face. "Let's have another, but more brandy and less sodathis time."

  The drink was brought and he sipped at it, looking like any ordinarycitizen taking on a small load, but tuned to every fluctuation in theenergy levels around him, waiting.

  Only a God, he knew, could hurt another God, and even then it tookplenty of power to do it. Actually to kill a God required the combinedefforts of more than one, under normal circumstances--though one,properly equipped and with some luck, could manage it. As far as his ownsituation was concerned, Forrester was prepared for a deadly assaultfrom Mars. Maybe Mars didn't intend to kill him, but being maimed forcenturies, like Vulcan, was nothing to look forward to, and it was justas well to be on the safe side. Just in case the God of War had managedto get one or two other Gods on his side, Forrester had talked to D
ianaand Venus, and had their agreement to step in on his side if things gotrough, or if Mars tried to pull anything underhanded.

  And any minute now....

  Suddenly Forrester felt a disturbance in the energy flow around him.Somewhere behind him, invisible to the mortals who occupied the bar, aVeil of Heaven was beginning to form.

  With a fraction of a second, Forrester was forming his own. But thistime he took a little longer than he had before.

  It wasn't the first time he'd had to run. For over a month now, he hadbeen jumping from place to place, all over the world. He had gone toHong Kong first. When Mars had traced him there and made a grab for him,Forrester had made a quick jump, via Veil, to Durban, South Africa. Ithad taken Mars all of forty-eight hours to find Forrester hiding in thenative quarter, wearing the _persona_ of a Negro laborer. But againForrester had disappeared, this time reappearing in Lima, Peru.

  And so it had gone for five full weeks, with Forrester keeping barelyone jump ahead of the God of War.

  And, in that month, he had achieved two important things.

  First, he had begun to make Mars a little overconfident. By now Mars wasfully convinced that Forrester was nothing but a coward, and he wasabsolutely certain that he could beat the newcomer easily, if he couldonly come to grips with him.

  Second, Forrester had discovered that Mars' basic reflexes were a trifleslower than his own.

  If Mars had been able to form his own Veil and step through it in timeto sense the last fading glimmers of Forrester's Veil, he would havebeen able to follow immediately. Instead, he had to go to all thetrouble of finding Forrester over and over again. That meant slowerreflexes--and that, Forrester thought, might just give him the edge heneeded.

  But this time, Forrester was going to let Mars follow him--slowreflexes and all. This time, he waited that extra fraction of asecond--and then stepped through the Veil.

  He was in the middle of a great rain forest. Around him towered treeswhose great trunks reached up to a leafy sky. The place was dark; littlesunlight came through the roof of leaves and curling vines. A birdscreamed somewhere in the distance, sounding like a lost soul in agony;the sound was repeated, and then there was silence.

  Forrester was exactly where he had intended to be: in the middle of theAmazon jungle.

  He had time for one look around. Then Mars stepped out of a shimmeringVeil only yards away from where Forrester was standing. Immediately,Forrester felt Mars throw out a suppressor field that would keep himfrom forming another Veil. He did the same thing. Now, as long as bothheld their respective fields, neither could leave.

  "Greetings," Forrester said.

  The bird screamed again. Mars ignored it.

  "You're just a little too slow," he said, grinning. "And now, buster,you're going to get it--and get it good."

  "Who?" Forrester said. "Me?"

  Mars hissed his breath in and fired a blast of blue-white energy thatwould have drilled through a foot of armor plate. But Forrester blockedit; the splatter of free energy struck at the nearby trees, sending themcrashing to the ground. A small blaze started.

  Forrester followed the blow with one of his own, but Mars parriedquickly. A few more little fires began in the vicinity. Then Marsbellowed and charged.

  By the time he reached the spot where Forrester had been, Forrester wasfifty feet in the air, standing with his arms folded and looking down inan interested manner.

  "You ought to watch out," he said. "You might stumble into a VenusFlycatcher down there. I mean besides the one you've got already."

  Mars' mouth dropped open. He gave vent to an inarticulate roar of rageand leaped into the air. As he rose toward Forrester, the defenderclosed his eyes and changed shape. He became a rock and dropped. Hebounced off Mars' rising forehead with a great noise.

  Mars roared and dived for the stone--and found himself holding a large,angry tiger.

  But an old trick like that didn't fool Mars. Tiger-Forrester, suddenlyfinding himself fighting with another tiger as ferocious as himself,began clawing and biting his way free in a frenzy of panic. He managedto make it just long enough to become a stone again, dropping toward theEarth.

  For a moment, the other tiger seemed uncertain. Then, catching sight ofthe falling stone, he became an eagle, and went after it with a scream,claws outstretched and a glitter of hatred in the slitted eyes.

  Forrester reached the ground first. The eagle braked madly, trying toescape a giant Kodiak bear. Forrester stood on his hind legs andbattered the air with great, murderous paws. Mars scooted upward,already changing into something capable of coping with the bear. A huge,bat-winged dragon, breathing barrels of smoke, flapped in the air,looking all around for its opponent. It did not notice Forresterscurrying away in the shape of an ant through the leaves and thick humusof the jungle floor.

  By now, the air was becoming smoky and the flames were licking up thesides of trees all through the vicinity, and racing along the giantvines that curled around them. The dragon belched more smoke, adding tothe general confusion, and roared in a voice like thunder:

  "Coward! Dionysus! Come out and fight!"

  There was an instant of crackling silence.

  Then Forrester stepped out from behind a blazing tree. He, too, was adragon.

  Mars snarled, breathed smoke and made a power dive. Forrester dodged andthe fangs of the monster missed him by inches. Mars sank claw-deep intothe ground, and Forrester slammed the War God on the side of his headwith one mighty forepaw. Mars blew out a cloud of evil-smelling smokeand managed to jerk himself free. He leaped to all four feet, glaring atForrester with great, bulging, hate-filled eyes.

  "Man to man, you bastard!" he said in a flame-filled roar.

  Forrester leaped back to avoid being scorched. He poured out some smokeof his own. Mars coughed.

  "Damn it, no more shape-changing!" the War God thundered.

  "Fair enough!" Forrester shouted. He changed back to his Dionysian form,circling warily until Mars had followed suit. Then the two began toclose in slowly.

  Around them the forest burned, vegetation even on the swampy groundcatching fire as the entire vicinity crackled and hissed with heat.Neither of them seemed to take any notice of the fact.

  Mars was a trained boxer and wrestler, Forrester knew. But it wasprobably a good many centuries since he'd had any real workouts, andForrester was counting heavily on slowed-down reflexes. Those would givehim a slight edge.

  At any rate, he hoped so.

  The circling ceased as Mars leaped forward suddenly and lashed out witha right to the jaw that could end the fight. But Forrester moved hishead aside just in time and the fist glanced off his cheek. He staggeredback just as Mars followed with a left jab to the belly.

  Forrester clamped down on the War God's wrist and twisted violently,pulling Mars on past him. The War God, caught off balance, lungedforward, tripping over his own feet, and almost fell as he went by.Forrester, grinning savagely, brought his right hand down on the back ofMars' neck with a blow whose force would have killed an elephantoutright.

  Mars, however, was no mere elephant. He grunted and went down on hishands and knees, shaking his head groggily. But he wasn't out. Notquite.

  Forrester doubled up his fist as Mars tried to rise, and came down againwith all the force he could muster, squarely on his opponent's neck.

  There was a satisfyingly loud crack, audible, even in the roar of theburning forest. Mars collapsed to the ground, smothering small firesbeneath his bulk. Forrester leaped on top of him and grabbed his head,beard with one hand and hair with the other. He twisted and the War Godscreamed in agony. Forrester relaxed the pressure.

  "All right, now," he said through clenched teeth. "Your neck's broken,and all I've got to do is twist enough to sever your spinal column.You'll be crippled for as long as Vulcan has--maybe longer."

  Mars shrieked again. "I yield! I yield!"

  Forrester held on. "Not just yet you don't," he said grimly. "I wantsome information, and I'm going
to get it out of you if I have to wringthem out vertebra by vertebra."

  Mars tried to buck. Forrester twisted again and the War God subsided,breathing hard. At last he muttered: "What do you want to know?"

  "Why did you and the other Gods leave Earth for three thousand years?And where did you come from in the first place? I want the _real_reason, chum." He applied a little pressure, just as a reminder.

  "I'll tell you!" Mars screamed. "I'll tell you!"

  And as the roaring flames crackled in the Amazon forest, the agonizedMars began to talk.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Zeus, Venus, Diana and Forrester sat in the Court of the Gods, listeningto a large, blue-skinned individual with bright red eyes and two longwhite fangs coming from a lipless mouth. The eyes were like a cat's,with slitted pupils, and the general expression on the individual's facewas one of feral hatred and bestial madness. However, as he hadexplained, he was not responsible for the arrangement of his features.He was, he kept saying, only interested in the general welfare. What wasmore, it was his business to be interested. He was, as a matter of fact,a cop: Bor Mellistos, of the Interstellar Police.

  "My rank," he had told them mildly, "is about the equivalent of yourDetective Inspector."

  "Technically," he was saying now, "you are all four guilty of beingaccessories--as I understand your local law phrases it. However--"

  He smiled. It made him look unbelievably horrible. Forrester tried notto pay any attention to it.

  "However," he went on, "in view of the fact that none of you couldpossibly have known that you were, in fact, accessories--that is, thatyou were dealing with a criminal group, if you understand me--plus thefact that Mr. Forrester, as soon as he did discover the facts, called usat once through the power machine--I feel that we can overlook your partin the matter."

  Venus frowned. "Wait a minute. I'm not sure I understand this at all.What crime are the Gods supposed to have committed?"

  "Not crime, miss," Bor Mellistos said. His eyes twinkled. Forrestergulped and turned away. "Crimes. Misuse of a neural power machine, forone--and the domination and enslavement of a less advanced intelligentculture for another. Both those are very serious crimes."

  "Less advanced culture?" Forrester said. "You mean us?"

  "I'm afraid so, sir," Bor Mellistos said. "You see, all the members ofmy culture are attuned to the power nodes of one neural machine oranother, but this power is not meant to be misused. We have beensearching for this group for a long time now."

  "And you first got wind of them on Earth about three thousand yearsago?"

  "A little more than that, actually," Bor Mellistos said, "if you don'tmind the correction."

  "Not at all," Forrester said, looking at the fangs of the DetectiveInspector.

  "We were alerted after the radiations had been coming in for some time.The search for this group wasn't nearly as urgent then."

  "And that's why they had to go into hiding?" Diana asked.

  "Correct, miss," Bor Mellistos said. "The only one we managed to catchwas the woman calling herself Aphrodite, or Venus." He looked at thesubstitute Venus. "That's the one you replaced, miss."

  "How did you catch her?" Forrester pursued.

  "Well," Bor Mellistos said, turning a faint shade of orange withembarrassment, "she was--ah--engaged in a secret liaison with a mortalat the time. Knowing that two of the other gentlemen would be furiouswith her if they discovered this fact--"

  "Mars and Vulcan," Forrester supplied.

  "Quite correct, sir," Bor Mellistos said. "Knowing, as I say, that theywould be furious, she had taken special pains to hide herself. When thealarm reached the others that we were coming, they could not warn her.As a result, when she returned to Mount Olympus, we were waiting forher."

  "Serves her right!" Zeus said with indignation.

  Bor Mellistos said: "Quite," very politely.

  "And then," Forrester said, "you patrolled this place for a while."

  Bor Mellistos nodded. "We left about three hundred years ago, finallydeciding that they had gone elsewhere. By the way, do you know wherethey were hiding all this time?"

  "My guess," Diana said, "is that they were here on Earth, of course."

  "Naturally, miss," Bor Mellistos said. "But where?"

  Zeus shrugged. "All sorts of places. I ran a tailor shop myself,pressing and cleaning. I understand that Poseidon and Pluto enteredfreak shows--they were fine attractions, too. Pan lived mostly in theforests, doing well enough for himself running wild. Diana and Athenaran a small hairdressing studio in Queens. And Venus--"

  "Please," Venus interrupted.

  "Perfectly honorable profession," Zeus objected. "One of the oldest.Perhaps the very oldest. And I don't see why--"

  "Please!" Venus insisted.

  Zeus shut up with a little sigh.

  "At any rate," Bor Mellistos said, "that's the story up to date. And nowthere's only the question of the Overseer positions. Would you like tofill them?"

  "Who?" Venus asked. "_Us?_"

  "Well," Bor Mellistos said, "you have the experience. And we do needsomeone to take over. You see, three thousand years ago your technicalattainments were not large. There was little need for an Overseer. Now,however, you are nearly at the stage where you will be invited to jointhe Galactic Federation. And we must make sure you do not do anyirreparable harm to yourselves during the next few years."

  "Well," Forrester said, "how could we--"

  "If you'll permit me, sir," Bor Mellistos said, "I can explain. Youwould work much as the so-called Gods did--but with no publicity, and agreater sense of responsibility, if you understand me. Earth would neverknow you were there."

  "I'd have to--stay away from mortals?" Forrester asked.

  "Exactly," Bor Mellistos said.

  Well, Forrester thought, it had its compensations. In the three daysthat the Detective Inspector had been on Earth, Forrester had had timeto think and to find out some things. Gerda, for instance, was gettingmarried to Alvin Sherdlap. Forrester wondered what kind of love wouldlet a woman choose a name like Gerda Sherdlap, and decided it was betternot to think about it.

  What did he have to go back to? History classes? Students? Even studentslike Maya Wilson?

  Well, he was sure he could do better than that. He looked at Diana andbecame even surer.

  "The remaining eleven Overseers," Bor Mellistos was saying, "will bealong shortly. You will then be able to draw fully on the machine. Youneed merely follow world events and make sure that any--ah--regrettably_final_ decisions are not made. Your actions will, of course, be verymuch undercover."

  Forrester nodded. "This mass arrest of the Gods is going to cause anupheaval all by itself."

  "Quite true, sir. But that will be worked out. I'm afraid I don't reallyknow the details, but doubtless the other eleven who are coming willinform you more thoroughly on that score."

  Forrester sighed. "About the Gods--what kind of punishment will theyreceive?"

  "Well, sir," Bor Mellistos said, "it varies. Vulcan, for instance--theperson who called himself Vulcan, or Hephaestus--will probably get offwith a lighter sentence than the others. He was a mechanic, broughtalong under some duress to service the machine. But the sentences willbe severe, you may be sure. Very severe."

  Forrester didn't feel like asking any more questions about that. Therewas a pause. He looked at Diana again, and she looked back at him.

  "Do you accept?" Bor Mellistos said.

  Forrester and the others nodded.

  Bor Mellistos said: "Very well. In that case, I will inform the othereleven Overseers already picked that they will be met by you here, onMount Olympus, and that--"

  But Forrester wasn't listening.

  He had begun whistling, very softly.

  The song he was whistling was Tenting Tonight.

 
lter: grayscale(100%); -o-filter: grayscale(100%); -ms-filter: grayscale(100%); filter: grayscale(100%); " class="sharethis-inline-share-buttons">share