confessed, 'I haven't. I just don't think...'
'I know,' Minerva interrupted. 'You never have, either. Now then, I suggest that we send Mercury, with the Lamp of Truth and the Celestial Trufflehound. That ought to have him out of it in no time.'
Just then, a shining portal opened in the wall of the sun and all the gods rose instinctively to their feet. They always do. Partly this is because all gods, despite their incessant bickering and backbiting, have an innate respect for the Father of Gods and Men. The fact that He tends to throw those who don't off the battlements also has something to do with it.
'Right,' said Jupiter, taking his place on the golden throne that none but he ever dared sit in, 'who's the smartass?'
'Right,' said Jason, 'fine. Now, about those cakes...'
Prometheus sighed. 'And so,' he said, 'what do you think?'
'Think?'
'Yes,' said Prometheus. 'About the morality of it?'
'Morality?' Jason's brow furrowed, and he considered long and hard. 'Dunno,' he said at last.
'You don't know,' Prometheus repeated. 'I see. I must say that I find that tremendously encouraging.'
'It's not something I think about a lot,' said Jason, 'morality.'
'Really?'
'Not,' he went on, 'in my line of work. I'm more, you know, blue-collar. Mine not to reason why, that sort of thing.'
'You're more,' said the Titan slowly, 'a sort of hired thug?'
'Exactly,' Jason said. 'The way I see it is, somebody somewhere knows what's going on, so who am I to make difficulties?'
'Well now,' said Prometheus, 'I know what's going on, and I'm prepared to pay in hard confectionery. What about it?'
Jason frowned. 'What,' he said, 'me take orders from you instead of him?'
'Very neatly put. Yes.'
'I don't think he'd like it,' Jason said. 'And, well, you know what happens to people who...'
Prometheus laughed and rattled his chains until the mountains shook. 'Yes,' he said, 'I have a pretty shrewd idea. A pity. Well, I'm sorry to have troubled you. The biscuits are three paces east under the roots of a thornbush. The eagle will show you.'
Great, Jason said to himself as he tore open the packet and put tooth to chocolate. Great...
Not you again. Go away.
Sure...
I said go away, will you? I really don't need this right now.
Exactly...
All right then, out with it. What are you getting at?
Nothing...
Good, because if you haven't got anything to say, you can just push off and leave me in...
In...
Slowly, Jason got up, finished his mouthful, and turned to face the giant.
'Excuse me,' he said.
The giant turned his head -- imagine Hounslow suddenly picking itself up and rolling over on one side and stared at Jason, who saw the two round blue eyes for the first time. He swallowed and choked on a crumb.
'Yes?' he said softly.
'Well,' Jason said, 'I don't suppose there's anything I could do without him actually knowing, is there?'
Prometheus laughed. 'As it happens; he said, 'there is.'
CHAPTER SIX
Although it was now over five years since Sergeant Smith had had his funny experience, he still hadn't recovered from it, and his superiors at the Axe Cross police station had long since decided that being a desk sergeant was all he was fit for now. As -they saw it, when batty old ladies came in claiming to have seen flying saucers, they would at least be sure of a sympathetic audience.
Anyone less likely than the sergeant to be a dreamer of dreams it is hard to imagine. A long, hard youth spent watching fights outside chip shops and arresting the more seriously injured participants should have cauterised his powers of imagination many years ago; but the fact remained that he claimed to have seen Something, and ever since he had been as unshakable in his story as an interviewing officer telling the court that during interrogation the defendant had repeatedly got up and banged his head violently against the leg of the table.
It had happened, Sergeant Smith insisted, on a Thursday, about a quarter past eleven at night,
'I know,' Minerva interrupted. 'You never have, either. Now then, I suggest that we send Mercury, with the Lamp of Truth and the Celestial Trufflehound. That ought to have him out of it in no time.'
Just then, a shining portal opened in the wall of the sun and all the gods rose instinctively to their feet. They always do. Partly this is because all gods, despite their incessant bickering and backbiting, have an innate respect for the Father of Gods and Men. The fact that He tends to throw those who don't off the battlements also has something to do with it.
'Right,' said Jupiter, taking his place on the golden throne that none but he ever dared sit in, 'who's the smartass?'
'Right,' said Jason, 'fine. Now, about those cakes...'
Prometheus sighed. 'And so,' he said, 'what do you think?'
'Think?'
'Yes,' said Prometheus. 'About the morality of it?'
'Morality?' Jason's brow furrowed, and he considered long and hard. 'Dunno,' he said at last.
'You don't know,' Prometheus repeated. 'I see. I must say that I find that tremendously encouraging.'
'It's not something I think about a lot,' said Jason, 'morality.'
'Really?'
'Not,' he went on, 'in my line of work. I'm more, you know, blue-collar. Mine not to reason why, that sort of thing.'
'You're more,' said the Titan slowly, 'a sort of hired thug?'
'Exactly,' Jason said. 'The way I see it is, somebody somewhere knows what's going on, so who am I to make difficulties?'
'Well now,' said Prometheus, 'I know what's going on, and I'm prepared to pay in hard confectionery. What about it?'
Jason frowned. 'What,' he said, 'me take orders from you instead of him?'
'Very neatly put. Yes.'
'I don't think he'd like it,' Jason said. 'And, well, you know what happens to people who...'
Prometheus laughed and rattled his chains until the mountains shook. 'Yes,' he said, 'I have a pretty shrewd idea. A pity. Well, I'm sorry to have troubled you. The biscuits are three paces east under the roots of a thornbush. The eagle will show you.'
Great, Jason said to himself as he tore open the packet and put tooth to chocolate. Great...
Not you again. Go away.
Sure...
I said go away, will you? I really don't need this right now.
Exactly...
All right then, out with it. What are you getting at?
Nothing...
Good, because if you haven't got anything to say, you can just push off and leave me in...
In...
Slowly, Jason got up, finished his mouthful, and turned to face the giant.
'Excuse me,' he said.
The giant turned his head -- imagine Hounslow suddenly picking itself up and rolling over on one side and stared at Jason, who saw the two round blue eyes for the first time. He swallowed and choked on a crumb.
'Yes?' he said softly.
'Well,' Jason said, 'I don't suppose there's anything I could do without him actually knowing, is there?'
Prometheus laughed. 'As it happens; he said, 'there is.'
CHAPTER SIX
Although it was now over five years since Sergeant Smith had had his funny experience, he still hadn't recovered from it, and his superiors at the Axe Cross police station had long since decided that being a desk sergeant was all he was fit for now. As -they saw it, when batty old ladies came in claiming to have seen flying saucers, they would at least be sure of a sympathetic audience.
Anyone less likely than the sergeant to be a dreamer of dreams it is hard to imagine. A long, hard youth spent watching fights outside chip shops and arresting the more seriously injured participants should have cauterised his powers of imagination many years ago; but the fact remained that he claimed to have seen Something, and ever since he had been as unshakable in his story as an interviewing officer telling the court that during interrogation the defendant had repeatedly got up and banged his head violently against the leg of the table.
It had happened, Sergeant Smith insisted, on a Thursday, about a quarter past eleven at night,
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