lack the sensitivity my wife has, yet—”
“Yes,” the minionette agreed. “He has not yet expressed his full love. It is very deep and large, yet from a small avenue, like a great lake filling a caldera, fed by a tiny stream.”
Benjamin chuckled ruefully. “By ‘love’ you mean ‘hate.’ Yes. Very fetching imagery, that stream-fed caldera, suggestive as it is of some prior volcanic eruption. It is the time of deepest confession. Yes, Bedeker told me of Aton’s two sons. The first was Aesir, named after Norse mythology. The Aesir were the gods of—but that is irrelevant. By the mad doctor’s account, Aesir was a thoroughly charming lad. I believe Bedeker spoke truly, for he delighted in tormenting me, and he knew the truth was the most cutting weapon of all. How I hated him!
“He told me how Aesir, a bright, friendly boy even as a toddler, captivated the entire caverns. He was, if I may use the expression, favored of Chthon. No creature would hurt him—not even the demonic salamander, whose venom meant certain and almost instant death. Hitherto only Bedeker had possessed immunity from cavern danger, thanks to his affiliation with the cavern sentience of Chthon. Apart from what he termed the zombies, that is; I believe those were mindless women. I never grasped their purpose in that scheme. At any rate, Bedeker was insanely jealous—no pun!—and resolved to eliminate the child. Oh, yes—he told me this and I believed him. I still believe...
“He could not kill Aesir directly because the lad was Chthon’s chosen fool, destined to do what Bedeker could not. Because, unlike Bedeker, Aesir was wholly sane. The only sane, intelligent entity able to communicate directly with Chthon, to do the cavern entity’s will willingly. Bedeker was completely dependent on that mineral entity; had he antagonized Chthon directly, he would have died. So he schemed...
“I don’t know how he arranged it, deceiving Chthon as well as the lad’s parents—but Bedeker did kill Aesir. All others thought it was an accident. Me he told, for he had to brag to someone. I alone knew the dreadful secret—as much as anyone but Bedeker himself knew. I alone had motive for revenge. But I, too, was limited.
“And so I bound him to his deep cave. I used certain connections I had to put a galactic intercept on all his available assets. He could not make any purchase, draw any credit, without immediate alert and arrest. That meant his coded spaceship was useless. In fact, he was effectively barred from space.”
Benjamin smiled, and the minionette smiled with him. “Bedeker was, as he termed it, half-mad—but the sane, or shall we say human portion of him, longed for galactic society. He used to travel to Earth just to browse around the planetary library or gaze upon the ancient oceans. He was an educated man, a scholar in his fashion. He understood artistic things; perhaps one has to be mad to have that ability! I deprived him of all that. Only with my collaboration could he emerge from his caverns, and only where and when specified. Then he had to bring the beautiful handcrafted bracelets and rings my nephew crafted, accepting in trade my gifts to Aton and Coquina. He was my messenger boy, my servant! And so I was avenged for Aesir, though I never knew the boy directly.”
“Beautiful!” Misery said. “Such love...”
The minion looked up from his project. He was trying to blind the minionette by poking out her eyeballs with his fingers, but she seemed invulnerable. “So that was the true manner of our meeting! I had supposed you were merely recruiting competent personnel for the campaign against the mineral entity—”
“I was, I was!” Benjamin agreed.
“So I became the commander of the backup forces. But you returned to tell me that the battle was lost, and to withdraw immediately, because the killchill was starting. Only that timely warning saved me and my complement; we escaped ahead of that wave—”
“The
“Yes,” the minionette agreed. “He has not yet expressed his full love. It is very deep and large, yet from a small avenue, like a great lake filling a caldera, fed by a tiny stream.”
Benjamin chuckled ruefully. “By ‘love’ you mean ‘hate.’ Yes. Very fetching imagery, that stream-fed caldera, suggestive as it is of some prior volcanic eruption. It is the time of deepest confession. Yes, Bedeker told me of Aton’s two sons. The first was Aesir, named after Norse mythology. The Aesir were the gods of—but that is irrelevant. By the mad doctor’s account, Aesir was a thoroughly charming lad. I believe Bedeker spoke truly, for he delighted in tormenting me, and he knew the truth was the most cutting weapon of all. How I hated him!
“He told me how Aesir, a bright, friendly boy even as a toddler, captivated the entire caverns. He was, if I may use the expression, favored of Chthon. No creature would hurt him—not even the demonic salamander, whose venom meant certain and almost instant death. Hitherto only Bedeker had possessed immunity from cavern danger, thanks to his affiliation with the cavern sentience of Chthon. Apart from what he termed the zombies, that is; I believe those were mindless women. I never grasped their purpose in that scheme. At any rate, Bedeker was insanely jealous—no pun!—and resolved to eliminate the child. Oh, yes—he told me this and I believed him. I still believe...
“He could not kill Aesir directly because the lad was Chthon’s chosen fool, destined to do what Bedeker could not. Because, unlike Bedeker, Aesir was wholly sane. The only sane, intelligent entity able to communicate directly with Chthon, to do the cavern entity’s will willingly. Bedeker was completely dependent on that mineral entity; had he antagonized Chthon directly, he would have died. So he schemed...
“I don’t know how he arranged it, deceiving Chthon as well as the lad’s parents—but Bedeker did kill Aesir. All others thought it was an accident. Me he told, for he had to brag to someone. I alone knew the dreadful secret—as much as anyone but Bedeker himself knew. I alone had motive for revenge. But I, too, was limited.
“And so I bound him to his deep cave. I used certain connections I had to put a galactic intercept on all his available assets. He could not make any purchase, draw any credit, without immediate alert and arrest. That meant his coded spaceship was useless. In fact, he was effectively barred from space.”
Benjamin smiled, and the minionette smiled with him. “Bedeker was, as he termed it, half-mad—but the sane, or shall we say human portion of him, longed for galactic society. He used to travel to Earth just to browse around the planetary library or gaze upon the ancient oceans. He was an educated man, a scholar in his fashion. He understood artistic things; perhaps one has to be mad to have that ability! I deprived him of all that. Only with my collaboration could he emerge from his caverns, and only where and when specified. Then he had to bring the beautiful handcrafted bracelets and rings my nephew crafted, accepting in trade my gifts to Aton and Coquina. He was my messenger boy, my servant! And so I was avenged for Aesir, though I never knew the boy directly.”
“Beautiful!” Misery said. “Such love...”
The minion looked up from his project. He was trying to blind the minionette by poking out her eyeballs with his fingers, but she seemed invulnerable. “So that was the true manner of our meeting! I had supposed you were merely recruiting competent personnel for the campaign against the mineral entity—”
“I was, I was!” Benjamin agreed.
“So I became the commander of the backup forces. But you returned to tell me that the battle was lost, and to withdraw immediately, because the killchill was starting. Only that timely warning saved me and my complement; we escaped ahead of that wave—”
“The
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