A few days later another battle was shaping up, and the grim horsemen gathered again at the front of the
castle. Rapture shuddered as she saw them in their impressive white, red, black, and brown cloaks, their
matching horses stamping their hooves and snorting with eagerness.
"Must you associate with those ruffians?" she asked. "I realize that you have a job to do, exactly as you
would have had as a Rajah, but these casteless creatures-!"
"I fear I must," he sang. "I did not choose them, but I did choose to assume the office of War, and they
are the handmaidens of war."
She laughed, somewhat hysterically. "Handmaidens!"
"But I will try my best to minimize the conflict I supervise today," he continued. "War may be
inevitable, but it doesn't have to be totally destructive, if properly managed. Then those subsidiary
Incarnations will not have much benefit from it."
She had to be mollified. "Return as soon as you can, my beloved. I don't like being here without you."
"Well, you can return to Luna's house in the mortal realm," he reminded her. "Or you can go to the
garden and have something to eat."
"You would have to take me to Luna's house, and, anyway, she's busy. She's nice and always polite, but
she is engaged in local politics, and I don't like to take up her time. But the garden..." She trailed off.
"I'm sure nothing there can hurt you," he sang. "I wouldn't trust Satan unduly, but he is currying my
favor and he knows that what pleases you is likely to please me. You could go and talk to Lila, to see
whether she is worthwhile."
Rapture brightened. "Yes, I must find out how well she sews and weaves, and whether she dances."
Mym smiled inwardly. What a neat solution to her problem! Concubines did a lot of sewing and
weaving in their off hours, supervised by the wife. Sometimes the Kingdoms of modern India had
contests between the harems of their ranking nobles to see which produced the finest tapestries, and
great honor accrued to the wives who organized the winning shows. It was said that the wives were
more interested in the harems than the husbands were, though there was a snide side to that remark.
But this exchange reminded him of Satan's influence on his present existence. Satan was helping to
make Rapture happy and Satan could help to make her unhappy. That remained awkward.
He had read Five Rings, and it had provided him with much upon which to cogitate. But he had not yet
digested it sufficiently to apply it to Satan.
The heart of the book, as he now understood it, was the five great rings, which equated on one level to
the five elements: Ground, Water, Fire, Wind, and Void. None of these were simple concepts, and
complete understanding would require long experience and contemplation. But it was as if it were a
chart for his future understanding. Once he comprehended the full nature of each of the rings, he should
possess sufficient understanding of the universe to know his true course. He intended to work on it.
He donned his golden cloak, mounted his palomino, and rode out with the others. This time they
descended on the border between two so-called Middle-Eastern nations, whose long-dragged-out war
had broken out again after the breakdown of a truce. Persia was preparing a massive assault on the
entrenchments of Babylonia, and the scale was far larger than that of Gujarat and Maharastra had been.
There was no single spot that Mym could settle on for effective supervision; there were thousands of
troops deployed along a front hundreds of kilometers long.
Last time, he had sought to enter the mind of a general and had made little progress. This time he wanted
to act with better effect. He had to gain a proper understanding of what was going on here. Then he
could devise some strategy to diminish the wastefulness of it. Perhaps it would be better to phase in to
the situation of one of the common troops.
"When is Persia's attack scheduled to be launched?" Mym inquired of Conquest, whose business it was
to know such details.
"Not for several hours yet," the white-caped warrior replied. "That will give us opportunity to plan for
the greatest harvest."
"Then I shall make my own investigation during that period," Mym sang. "See that nothing starts
prematurely."
Conquest nodded. War's word was law to those others, for he was the primary Incarnation here.
He rode to the lines of Babylonia first. He saw in a moment that the defenses were formidable. Behind
towering masses of barbed wire there were extensive mine fields, and beyond these were concrete
abutments and hardened emplacements for machine guns. Any human attack on these fortifications
would commence at the cost of many, many lives. If it broke through, only a small fraction of the
attacking troops would survive.
Obviously the Persian military command was aware of this. What kind of an attack did it contemplate?
There had to be something special.
Mym rode to the other side. None of the mortals saw him or his horse, of course. He rode through the
barbed wire without being touched and into the Persian formation. There were only a few armed men at
the front; the majority were in special camps, getting ready for the assault.
Who would be best to identify with for the ground-level survey? Mym pondered momentarily and
decided on a random sampling. He would enter the camp, count off heads, and take the tenth soldier he
found.
He found a large, crude temporary barracks building. He rode through the wall. There were the troops,
massed for a preparatory briefing. Mym counted heads, identified the tenth, and dismounted. "Be near
when I need you," he directed the horse. Then he strode to the soldier he had identified, stood before
him, and backed into the man.
In a moment he overlapped him and felt the confusion of double identity.
Slowly his eyes caught the focus, and his ears became those of his host. The sensations of the body
became his own. He was still himself, but also, gradually, the soldier. He concentrated solely on tuning
in, on aligning the sensations of the mortal body with his own, so that his identification clarified. This
took some time; while it occurred, the body was going about its own business, but this was a necessary
delay. For one thing, the body used an alien language; the only way that Mym could understand it was to
orient on the meaning as registered by the brain, rather than the actual sounds of it. He made steady
progress in this, but the process could not be rushed.
The first significant thing he realized was that this body was young. This was no man; this was a boy of
about eleven! Yet he was definitely a soldier; he had the military garb and a rifle and he had been drilled
in its use. He was now being exhorted to go into battle for the honor of his country. It was, the instructor
was assuring him and the other boys of this command, a great honor to fight for one's country and a
greater honor to die for it in this Holy War. He must go out and destroy the infidel enemy!
A child, Mym thought. They were all children, some younger than this one. All garbed in ill-fitting
military uniforms, bearing archaic rifles with limited ammunition, and steeped with the ferver of
fanaticism.
He thought of the formidable Babylonian emplacements he had viewed. These children would be
crucified against those defenses! He probed in the mind for some comprehension of what lay ahead, but
none of that information had been provided. This young boy was very like an occidental cow in the
corral, moving with the herd toward the slaughterhouse. Cows were never treated in that barbaric
fashion in India, of course.
It seemed that Persia, having largely exhausted its experienced adult personnel, was now throwing the
lives of its children into the breach. They would die like flies-but perhaps they would force an opening
in the enemy line that the experienced troops could then exploit.
It made sense on one level. It was pointless to throw away seasoned troops on an impossible assault and
leave the children to carry the major part of the action. Better to confine the heavy losses to those who
were least trained, then use the effective troops where and when they could count.
But Mym was sickened by this tactic. What barbarism threw away the hope of its future, its children, in
such manner?
But he drew on his own memory to fill in more of the picture. This war had started when Babylonia,
perceiving an opportunity to take advantage of its weakened neighbor, had invaded, seeking to add
territory and acquire important seaports. Babylonia had acted with complete indifference to international
law, grabbing at anything it supposed wasn't nailed down. Persia had fought doggedly back with
inadequate personnel and resources and turned the tide, driving the invader back out of its territory.
Naturally the losses had been substantial. Had Persia confined itself to conventional recruitment, it
would not have had the personnel to do the job. So it had reached into its reserves-the reserves of its
future-in order to guarantee that there would be a future for its national identity. Outsiders like Mym
might condemn such desperation-but what would he have done, as the leader of Gujarat, if his Kingdom
had found itself in a similar situation? Some evils were simply not to be tolerated, and among these was
capitulation to brutal conquest.
He explored the attitude of the boy and found some justification there. The internecine war, dragging on
as it had, had decimated the population of the region. The boy's family had been ruined by the passage
of the troops, both directions; the crop had been destroyed, the father drafted and killed, the brothers
driven away, the mother forced to work at starvation wages in a failing effort to sustain her remaining
family, one sister raped and killed at age twelve, and the other simply stabbed by the bayonet of an
enemy soldier when she screamed in fear and protest. This boy, eleven, had joined his nation's military
service in order to get money for his mother, who was working herself to death; this removed from her
the burden of sustaining him and made it possible for her to buy some additional food and pay rent in a
temporary camp for refugees. This boy had taken the part of a man during desperate times-as had the
other boys of this unit. If he died in battle, a death benefit would accrue to his mother; if he survived, he
could continue contributing to her support. He was proud to do this-and Mym was forced to echo this
pride. Given the situation of this region, the boy had done what he had to do, with honor and courage
that would have befitted a man of any age.
No, Mym could not condemn that. Neither could he condemn the nation of Persia for using boys of this
age; there was almost nothing else they could be used for, in this place and this time, and using them
made it possible for them to serve both themselves and their nation. If this boy were discharged at this
moment from this service, it would not be a victory for what was right and good; it would be disaster.
Mym found himself both glad and sad that he had chosen to share this young soldier's experience. How
true it was-a man had to walk a distance in the shoes of another to understand the other's situation.
Now he understood enough of the local situation; he could withdraw from this host and return to his
own form to supervise the coming battle. But now he knew this boy-and he found he could not simply
desert him at this stage. He knew that the boy was headed straight for death-and not an honorable, hard-
fought death. For a slaughter.
He had to do something. But what? This war had been grinding on, with brief intermissions, such as the
one that helped eliminate Mym's predecessor, for years. Its momentum was inexorable, and the damage
it had already done was staggering. Even if he managed to abolish it this moment, the carnage it had
wrought would remain.
Mym struggled with this, as the preparation for the onslaught proceeded. Could he remove this boy from
the locale, at least saving his life? But that would cause him to be branded a deserter-and how would the
lad fare then? Looking into the boy's mind, Mym saw that this was no solution; the boy had to be
allowed to complete his mission in whatever manner he could.
Could he manage to get this battle called off? Not by any action of this boy; he had chosen the wrong
host for that. Now it was too late to phase in to another; the boy's unit was being marched directly to the
front. The attack would commence within the hour.
There was nothing Mym could do-yet still he did not leave the boy. He had to find some way!
The unit formed at the top of a small hill. Other units formed to either side. There were thousands of
youths in this action! Most of them would be dead an hour from now-and what would they have
accomplished?
The order to attack was given. Bravely, the boy charged over the brim of the hill and down toward the
enemy line. His associates ran beside him, their faces grim, but also charged with the unholy joy of the
mission: they were engaging in the Holy War! They were half-drunk with the glory of this combat as
harangued into them by the instructors. Theirs, as the words of another culture had phrased it, not to
reason why, theirs but to do and die.
For moments there was nothing from the enemy. Then the big guns fired. Shells detonated in the midst
of the charging line. The Babylonians had this section zeroed in, awaiting this very charge. One went off
not far from Mym, and he felt the blast of it. He turned his head to look and saw something flying at
him. It landed before him-a human arm, severed at the shoulder.
Now, suddenly, the truth hit home to the boy. This was a deathfield! Whether he lived or died had no
relation to his personal merit. It was random. If a shell landed on him, he was gone; if it didn't, he was
free to keep running. Nobody cared. There was nothing he could do to save himself; it all depended on
the shells.
The boy froze. He was a boy; he had not been hardened to the reality of his own complete impotence.
He had thought that somehow things would turn out all right, if he just did the best he could and obeyed
orders. Now he knew that was not true. The realization paralyzed him.
The sounds of the slaughter became loud in the boy's ears. Not all of the victims of the shells were dead,
but many were dying. Scattered anguished exclamations projected from the over-all noise. "My foot-it's
hanging by a flap of skin!" "I can't seel My eyes-my eyes are all blood!" "Where did those intestines
come from? Allah preserve me-they're minel" "My friend-his shoulder is gone-and half his head." The
boys, stunned, simply did not know what to make of the horrendous carnage; they were reacting like
sightseers, in these first moments of horror. But very soon they would get down to the serious business
of bleeding to death. The charge had been broken, but still the shells came.
Mym, with his training in the military arts and his experience as a commander, automatically analyzed
the pattern of the detonating shells. There were five big guns oriented on this region, and they were
firing sequentially so that it was possible to judge the approximate locations of the forthcoming blasts.
One was due for this spot in a few seconds.
Mym extended his will and took over the boy's paralyzed muscles. He had not realized he could do this;
perhaps he could not, had the boy been operative, but under this immediate pressure, he did. He plunged
directly forward, getting as far away from the critical location as he could.
The shell landed behind him. The blast of it half lifted him, throwing him forward.
In that moment he spied an Incarnation. He knew it was one, because he saw a large spider slide in from
some celestially anchored thread and convert to a middle-aged woman whose eyes were fixed on him.
He willed the Sword to still the scene. The action of the battle froze, with boys locked in place in mid-
stride, and pieces of boys paused in mid-air.
"Mars, whatever are you doing?" the woman demanded.
"Who are you?" he demanded in return, using his necessary singsong.
"I am Lachesis."
"Ah, Lakshmi, Goddess of Fortune," he agreed.
"What?"
He smiled. "There seem to be parallels between your mythology and ours. I recognize your nature."
"But I am only one aspect of three," she said, nonplused. She wavered and was replaced by a beautiful
young oriental woman, then by an old negroid woman.
Then she was back to her original form.
"Yes, Lakshmi has an aspect for each of Vishnu's incarnations, to be his consort in each. When she
manifests with only two of her four arms, she is the most beautiful of women."
The lovely oriental reappeared, intrigued. "Oh?"
Then the original Lachesis reasserted herself. "Stop this nonsense! I'm not part of your pantheon! I am
the Incarnation of Fate, whose threads govern the lives of mortals."
"Those lives are ending," Mym pointed out. "No one can govern them now."
"All human events are arranged by Fate," Lachesis said firmly. "Like the tide, I will have my way." The
tide. Something connected in Mym's mind. "W-Water!" he exclaimed.
"What?"
"In the organization of the book. Five Rings, one of the five major strategies is based on water. But we
five Incarnations may relate to this framework. War is Fire; Fate is Water."
"Perhaps," she said, nonplused. "I will debate theology with you some other time. Right now I must
have an answer. Just what do you think you're doing here?"
Mym was still a bit bemused by this abrupt encounter with the occidental Fate with the spider web. "I
am trying to manage this battle," he sang.
"By using children!"
"One must work with the resources one has," he sang uncomfortably. "I don't like this, but it seems to be
necessary."
"I have very little concern for what you may consider to be necessary," Lachesis said severely. He could
see that, though she was past her physical prime, she had the underlying structure of a supremely
beautiful woman. It would have been interesting to have seen her in her youth. "You are using children
in war and, while I recognize that you have certain prerogatives, this use is not something I am prepared
to tolerate."
Mym did not like the use of children in war himself, but this put him on the defensive. "Exactly what
business is this of yours. Fate?" he demanded.
"It is my business to handle the Threads of Life, Mars," she repeated with some asperity. "In my several
Aspects, I spin them, I measure them, and I cut them to proper length. When you put them into a
suicidal war and kill them off wholesale, you are disrupting the pattern I am setting up. I can not sit idly
in my Abode while you shear off those early threads!"
There was something about Lachesis that seemed familiar, though he could not identify it. He was sure
he had not encountered her before. He had been bothered the same way about Luna. "But war is my
business, and these are soldiers."
"Lives are my business, and these are children!"
"Why didn't you route these young threads elsewhere, then?" he demanded, still bothered by the feeling
that he should know her from somewhere. "This situation was in the making long before I assumed this
office. I don't like it, but I must make the best of it. I see no better way than to complete this battle and
try to send the survivors home with honor."
"With honor!" she exclaimed, outraged. "What honor is there in pointless death?"
"This boy I am studying now is earning his own support and that of his mother in the only way available
to him," Mym sang. "He is serving his nation. There is no other way for him. He must do what he has to
do, or worse evil will befall him and his companions. I regret this situation deeply, but if this battle
could be made to disappear, it would not bring back this boy's father or his brothers, or provide food or
shelter for him. I am trying to discover how to minimize the ill effect of this battle and this war, but the
situation is complex, and simplistic protests by the uninformed will not accomplish anything useful."
"Simplistic protests!" she exclaimed furiously. Now, in her wrath, she seemed more than ever familiar.
Her fair hair, the bones of her face..."Uninformed?! You can't talk to me like that! I am Fate!"
"I don't care if you're Devi herself! This is my business."
"I don't have to put up with this," she said. She shimmered, became the large spider, and disappeared.
Mym was about to free the stasis and permit the battle to resume, when Lachesis reappeared. This time
she had a woman with her.
Mym stared. It was Rapture!
Rapture stared about her, appalled. "The blood!" she cried. "Where am I?"
"You are on the site of Mars' business," Lachesis said. "I thought you'd like to join him at work."
"She doesn't belong here!" Mym cried.
"Oh?" Fate inquired. "She is a mortal, and the thread of her life is subject to my manipulation. I thought
it appropriate to allow her to participate in your activity. When this battle of children resumes, she will
be among them."
Mym was stricken. Rapture would be killed in short order, and, even if he managed to rescue her from
the carnage, her mind would be profoundly affected. "Take her back!" he cried.
"Are you ready to deal. Mars?" Lachesis demanded sternly.
This was coercion, but he was vulnerable to it. "Yes," he sang grimly.
Fate shimmered, changed, and vanished with Rapture. In a moment she reappeared, alone. "I arranged
for a similar scene to appear on the television program she was watching," she said. "Later, she will
believe that it was only a bad daydream sponsored by that program." Her gaze oriented on him. "Now I
expect you to abate this war forthwith, so as to give me opportunity to route the children out of it."
"I would prefer to have the children out of it!" he exclaimed. "But I haven't found any way!"
"Then we shall find a way," she said. "Right now."
"These children are here because Persia needs them for its war effort," he said.
"I really don't see the point in war, anyway."
"It is a product of the natural tensions and inequities of society," he explained. "Without war, there
would be no redress for certain wrongs. War is only harmful when it is poorly managed."
"Oh, pooh!" she snorted. "That sounds like something Satan would say."
That set Mym back. Satan had said it. "Have you any strategy in mind to alleviate this battle or this
war?"
"Surely it is the result of some misunderstanding," she said. "If we can ascertain what that
misunderstanding is, and clarify it, the need for combat should be eliminated. What started it?"
"Babylonia's misunderstanding about Persia's ability and will to defend its territory," Mym sang grimly.
She frowned. "Babylonia is a bit out of my regular territory; but from all I understand, it is no shining
example of decency. But then, neither is Persia. It was an awful mess, extricating the captive threads of
over a hundred western hostages from that country. A pox on both their houses."
"Why are you so eager to save their children, then?"
"I could say that it is because some of those children are mine, holding western beliefs in their secret
hearts. That, certainly, is what first alerted me to this problem and brought me here. But once I saw the
full horror of it, I knew I had to act to protect all those children; I don't care what their beliefs are. They
don't deserve to die in a stupid war fashioned by fanatic adults. I don't care how complicated it is, those
children have to be saved."
Mym discovered that he was coming to like this woman's attitude. He had never had much to do with
children, but certainly they represented any nation's hope for the future. "I agree that the children are not
responsible for this war," he sang. "I would prefer to see those who cause wars have to serve on the front
lines."
Lachesis laughed. And suddenly he placed that nagging recognition: he had known someone who
laughed like that! "That would end this war in a hurry, wouldn't it!"
"Are you from Ireland?" Mym asked.
She glanced at him, surprised. "This Aspect is. Of course, now I serve a wider clientele. Why do you
ask?"
"I knew a woman from Ireland, a beautiful and good woman, and your hair, your face-I think in youth
you must have looked very much like her."
"I have come to distrust coincidence, since assuming this office," she said. "Did Satan have a hand in
your ascension?"
"He helped eliminate the former Mars, if that's what you mean. But he didn't have any hand in my actual
selection."
"Are you sure? Why were you ready for this office, at the appropriate time?"
"I had been denied my fiancée, owing to an abrupt change of political circumstance, and-" He broke off.
"Does Satan dabble in politics?"
"Does a fish breathe water?" She fixed her gaze intently on him. "That woman you knew-did she sing?"
Mym spread his hands. "I never heard more beautiful music. She had a little harp-"
"Orb!"
"Orb," he agreed. "You know her?"
"I am her mother."
Mym was stunned. Now the hair, features, accent, and laugh all came clear-like mother, like daughter.
But what an amazing coincidence, that he should encounter the mother of his former lover!
Coincidence? "You said you distrust coincidence," he sang. "Because you arrange much of what to
mortals appears to be coincidence. Do others do the same?"
"They shouldn't, but one does."
"Satan."
"Satan," she agreed. "I very much think he has been interfering again. What reason could he have had to
want you in this office?"
"Apart from my inexperience that he might take advantage of, I can think of none."
"But you know my daughter."
"I loved your daughter. But circumstances forced our separation, and now I love Rapture. This was no
design of mine, or fault in Orb; it-" He shrugged. "It happened."
"And Orb loved you?"
"Yes. But she knew why I had to leave her, and I think by now she has made her own life. She was-is a
wonderful person."
"Is it possible that Satan was jealous of you?"
Mym broke into a stuttering laugh. "For what possible reason?"
"Because my daughter loved you."
That sobered him. "Satan-has an interest in Orb?"
Lachesis pursed her lips. "Possibly, in his devious fashion. Satan-well, he once expressed interest in me,
when I was young and attractive. I was said by some to be the most beautiful woman of my generation,
and males are attracted to that sort of thing. Orb is not far off that standard and she inherited that
phenomenal musical talent from her father's side of the family. Satan tried to prevent her from getting
her harp, and her cousin Luna from-"
"Luna!"
"My granddaughter."
"Your-! But-"
She smiled. "I bore Luna's father in my youth, and Orb later. It is complicated. We raised the two girls
together, and they were like sisters. Now-"
"But Luna does not resemble Orb! Both are beautiful women, but the manner, the bones, the hair-" But
he knew as he spoke that the two did resemble each other, and that was the undefined thing he had been
aware of in Luna.
"Luna dyed her hair brown and adopted different ways. That, too, is complicated to explain. At any rate,
Luna is slated to balk Satan's grand design to assume greater power on Earth, and Satan has been
laboring mightily to eliminate her. But she is protected by Thanatos, so he must be roundabout. Orb,
however, is not so protected, so he may have mischief in mind for her, to put pressure on me and on
Luna. And-I dislike saying this-he may have a certain personal interest in Orb, because it seems he is
partial to that type of woman. That might be a ruse, of course. At any rate, if any of this conjecture of
mine is true, Satan might resent whatever man Orb took an interest in and act to eliminate that man."
Mym was appalled. "Could-could Satan arrange to have a prince killed?"
"Surely so. Satan can arrange evil for any person not protected by another Incarnation."
"It was my brother's untimely death that caused my separation from Orb," Mym sang, shaking with
shock and anger. "He was to be Rajah: when he died, I had to assume that office. So I was denied Orb
and given Rapture, against my will. The circumstances of my love for-"
"No mystery," Lachesis said. "Rapture is lovely."
"And you were going to kill her!" he sang, suddenly enraged at her.
"No. It was a bluff to make my point."
"You made it! I would not allow Rapture to be hurt."
"And Orb-if Satan threatened her, now-?"
Mym spread his hands. "I did not lose my feeling for her, when I came to love Rapture. I-would be
vulnerable."
"Well, don't worry. I am watching Orb's thread. Satan can not interfere directly with it without alerting
me, and if I can't protect her, the other Incarnations will help me. Satan knows that. I suspect that it was
the other way around; he was trying to use you to hurt her. I wasn't watching your thread, and certainly
not your brother's thread."
"And Satan was pretending to be my friend!" Mym gritted.
"He does that. Never trust him; he always has some devious scheme brewing."
"But-once he had taken me away from Orb-why would he try to separate me also from Rapture?"
"To make you angry enough to qualify for the office of the Incarnation of War."
"But why would he want me in that office? I could not do him much mischief before, but now-" Mym
considered, and realized that he didn't know how he might harm Satan. "Surely I am, or will be, more of
a threat to him now, as an Incarnation."
"One would think so. But of course you weren't supposed to know about his machinations in your life-if,
indeed, we have conjectured correctly. Only our meeting here has clarified that."
"He had to know I would in time recognize the mother of the woman I once loved!"
She sighed. "Yes, I suppose so. I suspect that we have not yet properly fathomed Satan's mischief. We
must be alert for it. Satan never exerts himself without bad reason." She smiled briefly. "But we have
drifted from the topic. How can we abate this battle or this war?"
"By putting the one who started it on the front line," Mym sang. "We had agreed on that."
She considered. "I had thought we were joking. But now I wonder. Why not put that man here?"
"Because it would be murder. You don't approve of that."
"And you do?"
"I would call it an execution. If the life of that one guilty man could cause the lives of the remaining
children to be spared, I would gladly destroy him."
She grimaced. "Then I leave it in your hands." She converted to her spider form and vanished.
So quickly! Yet they had come to an agreement, and if she, like many of her sex, lacked the stomach for
what was necessary, it made sense to leave it in the hands of one who could handle it.
Mym withdrew from the boy and mounted his horse, leaving the battle frozen. They galloped across the
terrain of Babylonia, seeking the palace of the ruler of the nation. This took time-but it didn't matter, for
the battle was not operative. Mym located the man and, without ceremony, set a hand on his shoulder.
This brought the man into Mym's magic frame; he disappeared from the eyes of mortals and was carried
through the air, through the walls, and into the sky.
Mym set him down on the battlefield, directly in the path of the boy he had inhabited before. Then he
released the stasis.
The battle resumed. The pieces of bodies completed their flights through the air and socked into the
ground. The boy, boosted by the blast behind him, stumbled, caught his balance-and spied the
gesticulating enemy before him.
The boy reacted automatically. He stopped, raised his rifle, sighted, and fired.
Whether his bullet scored was doubtful; good marksmanship was unlikely in such circumstance. But his
action alerted the other boys of this region. They stopped, raised their rifles, and fired. Several bullets
tore into the man, and he screamed and fell.
The boys charged up, saw the man's face, and exclaimed with amazement. They had seen that face
before; it had been on posters used for hate training. They cried the name.
A Persian officer spied the commotion and chanced his hide by coming to investigate. He, too,
recognized the casualty. He gave orders, and the boys took hold of the corpse and dragged it back up the
hill. The body was heavy, but there were many hands; few were slow to realize that this detail was
taking them away from the worst danger. The battle, such as it was, dissolved.
Mym watched from his steed, invisibly. He saw them get the body into a bunker. He saw the boy he had
occupied identified as the soldier who had killed this horrendous enemy. The boy was an instant hero,
given a commendation and sent to the rear to report to higher authorities. He would be safe-and neither
he nor his mother would suffer further privation.
Persia had said, publicly and often, that it would carry on the war until this enemy leader was deposed.
Suddenly the man was dead. The stated reason for the war had been eliminated. The attack was called
off, and a de facto truce developed.
No more children would die for a while. Perhaps the war would now be allowed to end, and the recovery
could begin.
Mym wasn't sure what the final judgment might be on his method of stopping this war, but he was
satisfied. He had not only accomplished his objective, he had learned another way to make his position
effective.

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