“No!” Amiko cried. “Please!”
The creature placed the point of the spear against Gideon’s chest.
More rapid talk from Amiko, urgent, desperate. The creature stared down, his face distorted with what seemed like hatred and fear. Gideon could feel the tip tear through his shirt fabric and pierce his skin. He felt helpless. “No…no…” He tried to twist away but couldn’t. He was too weak, and the pain was truly unbearable.
Amiko pleaded, her voice getting louder. The pressure on the spear increased, the tip biting through the flesh, pushing against his breastbone.
“Stop it!” Amiko cried in English. “For God’s sake, stop!” She rushed at the creature and attacked it with her fists, flailing away. “Don’t hurt him!”
Taken by surprise, the creature stepped back and grabbed her in one of its massive arms. She flailed about, clawing at its eye. It thrust her aside with a gentle movement, but with still enough force to send her sprawling on the sandy floor. She tried to get up, yelling in Greek.
The creature removed the spear from Gideon’s chest and then, with an irritated noise, walked to the wall of the cave, and leaned it against the stone. Then he displayed his empty hands to her in a clear gesture of acquiescence.
Amiko continued speaking in Greek until the Cyclops made a violent gesture at her with a loud barking roar. Amiko fell silent, trembling in fear.
Gideon lay there, in so much pain that he almost hoped it would soon be over.
“I think the Cyclops is going to try to kill you.”
“Your gun…,” Gideon gasped, “get it out.”
“I can’t. He saved my life, Gideon…And if I kill him, you won’t get the lotus. We have to find another way.”
Gideon gasped as another wave of pain wafted over him.
“He’s very suspicious of you. It’s clear to me he’s been hurt by people before.”
The creature squatted at the hearth and, taking some dry sticks from a pile nearby, placed them on the dying coals and blew up a fire. The cave filled with a flickering light. Gideon could hardly take his eyes off the monster. It was like something out of a B movie, a huge, muscled Neanderthal, stooped, with a sloping forehead and a beetling brow over that single monstrous eye. The fire going, the Cyclops squatted and, untying the leather sack from his waist, opened it and removed a large iguana. He rammed a stick through it and propped it to roast next to the fire.
Gideon felt his head swim. He felt like he was going to pass out.
Amiko started speaking again, pointing at Gideon and gesturing. The creature ignored her for a while, then growled menacingly, but she continued to press the issue. Even as she spoke, Gideon felt the pain growing — unbearable pain — and his mind clouded, swimming. He struggled to stay conscious, but despite his best efforts things drew farther away…very far away indeed…and he lapsed back into unrelieved darkness.
52
Three days had passed. Three strange days. They had gone by in a dream-like fugue state, as Gideon passed in and out of consciousness. Fragments of it came back to him later: the Cyclops growling and prodding him hard; the Cyclops stretched out in the sand, sleeping by the fire; Amiko feeding him a cup of foul gruel, similar to what he’d tasted at the ceremony, while the Cyclops looked on, scowling. He remembered anew that wondrous feeling of peace and contentment he had experienced before, followed by a second vicious hangover.
And then, when his head cleared at last, he felt better. Much better. He was still weak, and in some pain, but incredibly enough the broken bones appeared to be well on their way to knitting, the cuts were healing, and his head no longer hurt. The restorative power of the root was truly remarkable.
For the first time, Gideon felt a wave of actual hope. Real hope instead of hopeless speculation. He might have a future after all. For all he knew, the vein of Galen defect in his brain might be healing up along with his broken bones. But then…it wasn’t an injury. It was a congenital defect. It might be beyond the reach of even the lotus.
The only problem was that they were still prisoners of the Cyclops.
Gideon lay by the fire, watching Amiko grill the carcass of some small animal — evidently a rat — a string of which the Cyclops had brought back to the cave and hung on the wall.
“Yum,” said Gideon, looking at the roasting, popping rat, its little claws flaming into stumps, dripping fat into the fire.
“Almost done. You’re going to love it.”
“I actually think I will. I’m starving.”
Amiko removed the rodent from the fire and propped it on its improvised stake to cool. After a few minutes she pulled apart the roasted animal with her hands, laying a piece for Gideon on a large banana leaf. He tucked into it.
“You realize, Gideon, we now have all the proof we need. Both of us, cured by the lotus. We’ve got to identify the plant — and the Cyclops is the key to that.”
“How?”
“You’re the one who’s good at social engineering. Think about how we might persuade the Cyclops to show us the plant.”
“The last time I tried social-engineering a Cyclops, it ended badly. Do you know why he’s keeping us?”
“Fear,” Amiko said. “I believe he’s terrified of humans and thinks that if he lets us go, we might come back with more of our kind.”
“He’s probably right.”
“I’m serious about the social engineering, Gideon. I’ve tried everything. I can’t break through his suspicion. And you know…” She gave a little laugh. “He’s kind of dumb, actually. In a sweet way. He might be easily manipulated — if you could just find the right way to do it.”
Gideon sat back, thinking. Successful social engineering always exploited a basic need. Odysseus had gotten Polyphemus drunk and put out his eye. Aside from the fact they had no wine, hurting the creature was out of the question. The Cyclops had injured them — but it had also saved both their lives. They had not gained its trust, however…only its forbearance. And that was a tenuous thing indeed.
They needed to make friends.
The Cyclops was gone for the present, the rock rolled over the mouth of the cave. Gideon noticed that their drysacks had been thrown into one corner. Crawling over to his, he rummaged through it, then finally dumped the contents onto the sand. Knife, gun, miscellaneous junk. Friendship started with an exchange of gifts. He couldn’t give away the gun; besides, the creature wouldn’t know how to use it. The knife? He needed that, too. And he’d noticed that the Cyclops already had an array of beautifully made stone knives with bone handles.
“If you’re looking for a gift,” Amiko said, “I thought of that. We don’t have anything he would want. We forgot the beads and mirrors.”
“One of the headlamps?”
“He seems to see perfectly well in the dark.”
Gideon thought for a while. Social engineering always began with understanding the target’s deepest needs and desires. What were a Cyclops’s basic needs? Food, water, sex, shelter, fire…
Gideon suddenly had an idea. He explained it to Amiko.
She thought for a moment and said, “Worth a try.”
“Fetch one of those spears and climb on my shoulders.”
Amiko grabbed a spear and climbed up. Unsteadily, ignoring the pain, he managed to raise her. Taking the butt end of the spear, she reached upward, jammed it into a crack in the ceiling, and started prying.
“Don’t start a cave-in.”
“I’m trying not to.”
“When a rock comes loose, give a shout.”
She pried back and forth with the pole, loosening a chunk of lava from the ceiling. Suddenly she gave a shout and jumped off his shoulders; he threw himself sideways as a large chunk of lava came down with a crash, landing with a thud in the sand near the fire, showering them with smaller rocks, one of which glanced off his forehead, leaving a nasty cut.