HEEL
By PHILIP JOSE FARMER
Great cast! Stupendous show!
If this didn't make history,
nothing ever would!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Worlds of If Science Fiction, May 1960.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
"Call me Zeus," said the Director.
"Zeus?" said his wife, a beautiful woman not over a thousand years old."What an egomaniac! Comparing yourself to a god, even if he is the godof those—those savages!"
She gestured at the huge screen on the wall. It showed, far below, theblue sea, the black ships on the yellow beach, the purple tents of theGreek army, the broad brown plain, and the white towers of Troy.
The Director glared at her through hexagonal dark glasses and puffed onhis cigar until angry green clouds rolled from it. His round bald headwas covered by a cerise beret, his porpoise frame by a canary yellowtunic, and his chubby legs by iridescent green fourpluses.
"I may not look like a god, but as far as my power over the natives ofthis planet goes, I could well be their deity," he replied.
He spoke sharply to a tall handsome blond youth who wore a crookedsmile and bright blue and yellow tattoo spiraling around his legs andtrunk. "Apollo, hand me the Script!"
"Surely you're not going to change the Script again?" said his wife.She rose from her chair, and the scarlet web she was wearing translatedthe shifting micro-voltages on the surface of her skin into musicaltones.
"I never change the Script," said the Director. "I just make the slightrevisions required for dramatic effects."
"I don't care what you do to it, just so you don't allow the Trojans towin. I hate those despicable brutes."
Apollo laughed loudly, and he said, "Ever since she and Athena andAphrodite thought of that goofy stunt of asking Paris to choose themost beautiful of the three, and he gave the prize to Aphrodite, Hera'shated the Trojans. Really, Hera, why blame those simple, likable peoplefor the actions of only one of them? I think Paris showed excellentjudgment. Aphrodite was so grateful she contrived to get that lovelyHelen for Paris and—"
"Enough of this private feud," snapped the Director. "Apollo, I toldyou once to hand me the Script."
Achilles at midnight paced back and forth before his tent. Finally, inthe agony of his spirit, he called to Thetis. The radio which had beeninstalled in his shield, unknown to him, transmitted his voice to acabin in the great spaceship hanging over the Trojan plain.
Thetis, hearing it, said to Apollo, "Get out of my cabin, you heel, orI'll have you thrown out."
"Leave?" he said. "Why? So you can be with your barbarian lover?"
"He is not my lover," she said angrily. "But I'd take even a barbarianas a lover before I'd have anything to do with you. Now, get out. Anddon't speak to me again unless it's in the line of business."
"Any time I speak to you, I mean business," he said, grinning.
"Get out or I'll tell my father!"
"I hear and obey. But I'll have you, one way or another."
Thetis shoved him out. Then she quickly put on the suit that could bendlight around her to make her invisible and transport her through theair and do many other things. Out of a port she shot, straight towardthe tent of her protégé. She did not decelerate until she saw himstanding tall in the moonlight, his hands still raised in entreaty. Shelanded and cut the power off so he could see h