The Age Of Zeus (35 page)

38. BULLS AND BULLIES

"I
'm empty-handed," she told the monster. Her voice seemed to come from a distance, from elsewhere, not her own mouth. "See? No battlesuit. No weaponry. Nothing. Just me. Because I know you don't want to hurt me. I know there's intelligence somewhere in there, there's a mind that knows that hurting and killing is not what you want to do."

She doubted the Minotaur understood a word, but what she was saying didn't matter so much as how it was said. She was adopting as soft and unthreatening a tone as possible, and her whole manner was designed to give the monster no sense of antagonism or loathing. She held her head down and her hands open, palms out. This was the way she'd been taught in the Met to deal with hostile behaviour. Meet it with reasonableness, and let just enough of your fear show through that the other person knew you were intimidated but not to the point of quivering-jelly terror. Bullies and lunatics thrived on other people's terror. It was their drug, and the trick was to give them a tincture of it, enough to keep them happy but nowhere near enough to ignite a narcotic frenzy.

She kept talking, even as the Minotaur began to stalk closer to her. She kept talking because there was nothing else she could do.

"Were you a man once? Before you became a man-bull? Did someone turn you into this? Did they take you and do something to you that made you a monster? Did they do it against your will? I think maybe they did. And then they trained you like a fighting dog. They used threats and brutality to make you violent. I think you used to be ordinary, a human being like me, and you can remember that. From time to time the memory of what you were floats to the surface, and you realise what you've become, and it causes you distress. I'm sorry about that. I'm sorry, too, that I hurt you back in Corsica. There's so much pain in your life, and I only added to it. I want to make up for that. I want to help."

The Minotaur continued to close in on her, but it was moving slowly. It appeared to be listening. And it hadn't attacked her yet, which was definitely something. Definitely progress.

"Look." She bent and picked up a corncob. "Food." She proffered it. "This is for you, if you want. You must be hungry. If it's not what you like, I can get something else. Water too. I bet you're thirsty. I could fetch a nice big bowl of water."

A flicker in those red eyes. A glimmer. A spark?

"I'm not your enemy. I could be your friend, if you'd like."

The Minotaur loomed over her. For several moments - very long moments - Sam could see some kind of struggle going on within it. A part was telling it to crush her like a bug. Another part was telling it not to.

Then, with a snort, the monster slapped her hand aside. The corncob went flying, and Sam bit back a yelp of shock and pain.

The Minotaur spun round and strode off to a far corner, where it hunkered down with its back to her.

Sam's hand throbbed.

But the Minotaur had held back, she knew. It could easily have shattered every bone in her hand and hadn't.

The monster had just given her a message.

Not corncobs. Something else.

39. NON-ACROBATIC

H
er hand was numb as she entered the pen yet again. Puffy, too, the back of it starting to swell up in a lovely sunset-coloured bruise.

She placed a plastic sink bucket brimming with water on the floor and a bale of hay beside it. The Minotaur studied both items from afar. Then up the monster got and over it came, shambling across the room. It bent to the bucket first and slurped up water sloppily. Then it turned to the hay bale. After a moment's contemplation, fleshy nostrils flaring, it kicked the bale aside, then urinated on it for good measure.

"OK, OK, I get it, I can take a hint," said Sam.

She returned with a selection of raw vegetables. These, to her relief, met with the Minotaur's approval. It fell on them greedily, munching down handful after handful.

Next she tried some fruit, and that, too, found favour.

"Well, we've established that it's a veggie," she said to Mahmoud at the end of the day, as they headed off to get some food for themselves. "Might make life easier. Veggies are peace-loving hippy types after all, aren't they?"

"Except for that Hitler bloke. I've heard he had a bit of a nasty streak."

"I think it was missing a testicle that made him that way."

"That certainly isn't the Minotaur's problem," Mahmoud said with a giggle. "I mean, ruddy 'eck! Have you seen the size of its you-know-whats?"

"Can't say I noticed," Sam said.

A sly look came over the other woman. "Probably just me then. Maybe if I'd been getting some action lately, I wouldn't have noticed either."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh come on, Sam. Don't play dumb."

Sam glance furtively ahead and behind. The corridor they were in was empty. She lowered her voice anyway. "How did you know?"

"I didn't," said Mahmoud, gloating. "'Til now. All I had was a hunch, which you've just gone and confirmed."

"You cow."

"And you did come to our room very late last night. Not that I blame you, mind. Rick's lush. Not my type, but still lush."

"You can't tell anyone."

"I won't. Scout's honour. So, when did it start? Corsica, I'm guessing. That's when the flirting stopped between you."

"Flirting? We were flirting?"

"You may not have realised it but you were. Even when you were in a grump with each other and not talking, that was a kind a flirting. And now you're both so formal around each other in public, there just has
to be something else going on."

"Does anyone else suspect, do you know?"

"Not as far as I'm aware. What's the problem? There's nothing wrong with him and you hooking up. Why do you need to keep it a secret?"

"I don't know. I just do. I think it would look bad, the team leader sleeping with one of the team."

"Or maybe, if nobody else knows, you can pretend it's not happening."

"Why would I want to do that?" Sam asked stiffly.

"Because you had someone once," Mahmoud replied. "You've never talked about him but I know you did. He was The One, and you don't want to admit to yourself that anybody could ever replace him. So it's arm's length for poor old Rick, and probably for every other man you're with from now on."

There was flint in Sam's voice. "Bollocks. That's bollocks."

"Is it?"

"You know nothing, Zaina. Nothing."

Mahmoud understood she had overstepped the mark. There were some truths Sam wasn't prepared to hear.

"No, of course," she said, mollifying. "My mistake. So, er..." She changed the subject clumsily. "More Minotaur tomorrow, then?"

"Yes."

"Pretty soon you'll have that thing eating out of your hand."

Sam decided to take this literally, as an inspiration and a challenge. The next morning she brought in a single apple, which she held out to the monster. The Minotaur sniffed suspiciously, reached for the apple, then withdrew its hand. Sam offered the fruit again, telling the Minotaur there was nothing wrong with it, it was delicious. The Minotaur still wouldn't take it. Finally Sam took a bite out of the apple herself to prove it was safe. The Minotaur, letting out short, stertorous breaths, watched her chew. Then, abruptly, it snatched the bitten apple off her and retreated with it to its favourite corner of the pen.

A day later, Sam dared to squat down next to the monster as it ate. This was a bad move. The Minotaur reacted intemperately, believing Sam wanted to share its food and not liking that idea. It batted her aside with one sweep of its arm, then slapped her a few times as she tried to get up. Sam staggered out of the pen feeling pummelled and dazed.

That night, Ramsay noted that she was moving stiffly and wincing as she undressed. When the fresh contusions on her body were laid bare, he scowled.

"El Toro not treating you right?" he said.

"My fault."

"Spoken like a true battered housewife."

"I took a step too far too soon."

"Even so. The Minotaur keeps this up, I might have to go and have words with it."

"I'll sort things out."

"Playing
Born Free
with that monster is all very well, Sam, but one false move..."

"I'll sort things out," Sam insisted. She climbed into bed beside him. "God," she groaned. "I ache too much to be up for anything acrobatic tonight, Rick. Sorry."

"Never mind. Least we get to spend the whole night together, now that Zaina's in the loop. You just lie here, get all snug and cosy."

"I didn't say I wanted to just sleep. I said nothing acrobatic, that's all."

"Ha! Well, I've no problem with non-acrobatic."

"Really? Prove it."

"You lie still and I will. Now, nice and gentle. No moving around while I do... this."

"Ah."

"And this."

"Ohh."

"Uh-uh. Still no moving around. Now, how about...?"

And then Ramsay was not in a position to talk any further, and his silence, for Sam, was blissfully golden.

40. RUMBLINGS OF BELLIGERENCE

I
n the command centre, Landesman had an announcement to make.

"I am going to be Cronus," he told the Titans. The techs and Lillicrap were in attendance as well. "You know that already. Some of you may have suspected it for a while. I just want to say it's going to be a privilege working directly alongside you in the field. Over the past few weeks I've watched you cohere as a unit. I've watched you work wonders in all your various permutations. As a fighting force, you've impressed me no end. You've become better than I could ever have hoped. You've exceeded every aspiration I ever had for this project, and I intend to be every bit as good as you. I will not be the weak link in the chain. I will be an aid, an asset, an addition, an adornment, and doubtless lots of other words beginning with 'a.'"

"Arsehole?" offered Barrington.

"Thank you, Dez. I gave you that one for free."

"I know. My pleasure."

"I must also tell you," Landesman continued, "that it would appear that your efforts so far, not to mention the sacrifices of Soleil and Nigel, have cumulatively yielded victory. According to news reports this morning, the Olympians have recalled their monsters. Yes! All the ones that were still out there in the world, still at large, have been brought back to Olympus. Summoned back to the fold. Not that there were many of them left, admittedly, but it isn't the numbers that matter so much as the significance of the decision. It tells us something very important."

"Zeus has blinked," said Tsang.

"Precisely, Fred. Zeus has blinked. Our adversaries have conceded the round to us. They're taking their pawns off the board because they realise we've got the better of them. They know that if they carry on, they're only going to lose those few remaining monsters. What's more, there haven't been any further reprisals. Obviously that tactic didn't work last time, so they're not repeating it. In other words, ladies and gentlemen, phase one of the campaign is over and the clear winner is us. You may, if you like, give yourselves a hand. In fact I think you should."