Chapter Six
Ἐκ τῶν ὧν οὐκ ἄνευ[1]
Time passed, as time does. Adam stood now less than two feet high — 19¾ inches, just over 50 centimeters, easily the shortest adult male in the world. Indeed, the Guinness people had certified him during an appearance on the Jayne Jordan Show two nights before, on the eve of his wedding day.
Now, he sat in the airport in a seat the size of a sofa, waiting to board a flight for his honeymoon.
Some ways away, observing from an airport bar, sat two figures whose presence would have spoken poorly about airport security, as they had simply walked through the TSA checkpoint without even removing their shoes. Of course, Gods are allowed some leeway that mortals are not.
“So, are you willing to concede?” the female asked, as she watched the tiny man snuggle up to the side of the woman three times his size.
“Concede? Whatever for?”
“They’re married, aren’t they? It was on the news, see?” she said, pointing at a monitor, which was showing what all the photographers had agreed was the hero shot – Stephanie kneeling down to kiss Adam, softly but fully on the lips. The shot was already being readied for the next edition of People.
“Married, schmarried. Marriage isn’t the end of the story, my wayward wife. You and I know that better than any of these mortals. The test isn’t over until it’s run its full course.”
“She’s not going to break,” said Aphrodite, sighing. “You could at least show them the kindness of not continuing this. Haven’t they suffered enough?”
“Suffered? This is what volitionals were made for, dearest. To test. To answer our questions for us. You ruined poor Paris’s life just to prove you were hotter than Athena and Hera (and frankly, you had him when you disrobed); don’t lecture me on sympathy.”
“I’m thousands of years older than I was then, and a good deal wiser. I am more attractive than Athena and Hera, but I don’t feel the need to show if off anymore. If it happened now, Hera could have the damned apple.
“But you’re right, marriage is just a mile-marker, it isn’t a destination, no matter what the stories claim. We’ll leave them alone. See if they live happily ever after. But at some point, you will concede.”
Hephaestus was silent.
“You will concede eventually, right?”
“How long did Penelope wait for Ulysses to come home, Aphrodite? Twenty long years, she waited, though she knew not whether he was alive or dead. Twenty years of a mortal life! She remained faithful to her husband though she had suitors aplenty. And you are pestering me to concede now?”
Aphrodite stared, nonplussed. When she gathered herself, she found she was quaking with rage. “Surely,” she said, “you would not be so petty as to require of these two twenty years of heartache simply on the chance it would prove your point? Surely you would not force this woman to live a life of chastity long after all hope of seeing or communicating with her husband was past?”
“Why not? It was good enough for the ancients.”
“We were awful to the ancients. They put up with far more than they ever should have,” said Aphrodite.
“They were stoic. Not like these hedonists. You’re telling me that this girl can’t keep her legs crossed for a couple decades? Some champion for womankind.”
“Penelope is still lauded today simply because her actions were so unusual! That kind of faithfulness borders on pathological; Ulysses had no right to expect his wife to be faithful to him, especially as he spent a year fucking our cousin Circe.”
“Why not mention Calypso?” Hephaestus asked with a thin smile. “She had him for seven years, if I recall.”
“Because Calypso kidnapped and raped him, precious husband. But he bedded Circe with eyes wide open – even had her swear by your name and mine, and all our brothers’ and sisters’ names too, that she wouldn’t steal his manhood – the vagabond had no problem getting his carnal needs met. But Penelope? She’s supposed to keep her legs crossed. And this is what you say dear Stephanie must do? You are more blind than I thought.”
“Hmpf. You are awfully quick to ask for my concession. And awfully impatient that the deed be done, and right quick. Not bloody likely, but I’ll offer you this: you can break the contract, if you wish,” said Hephaestus.
“No chance,” replied Aphrodite, angrily. “You are simply looking to force me to break the contract because you know you have lost. I should have known better to trust your word. No, Hephaestus, I thought you knew that I was tougher than that. I will not accede to your wishes.”
“Then we wait,” he said.
“No. We do not.”
“Then what in Zeus’ name do you suggest we do?”
“I shall appeal to The Council of Thirteen.”
“Appeal?” scoffed the God of Artisans. “Do you really think The Council will give you a fair hearing?”
“Whether they do or not is Their decision, not yours nor mine,” said Aphrodite. “I must place this in Their hands. My responsibility to this couple and to women generally requires it. If The Council wishes to punish me for what I once was….”
“Athena’s on the Council, you know.”
“She’s no more likely to favor you,” shot Aphrodite.
“You’ll lose,” said Hephaestus, straightening himself.
“We’ll see,” said Aphrodite, as she vanished.
* * *
Adam shifted uncomfortably in the chair, while Stephanie perused the paperwork for the cruise; they had purchased this trip back before…well, back before. And he was willing to go on it because Stephanie wanted to; she didn’t quite say that she wanted to go on the honeymoon because it would be their last vacation together, but he knew the thought had gone through her head. The thought had gone through his head. How could it not? (more…)
