Free Phoenix Without Ashes by Harlan Ellison, Edward Bryant Page A

theological mystery among his neighbors how Aram could be cursed with two daughters. The Creator’s ways were sometimes obscure.
    It was after dark when Devon trudged up the road to Aram’s house. The insects had begun their night-sounds. Dog, the unnamed dog, did not bark; he recognized Devon. He rushed up, tail slashing the air violently, and Devon hunkered down for a moment to rumple his ears. Together they approached the house, Dog dancing in happy circles.
    Devon paused in the darkness a few meters from the porch. He took the plastic cassette from his pocket; it reflected glints of light from the kitchen windows. A long moment of hesitation: Now, he thought. It must be now.
    Four steps up to the porch and four more across to the screen door. He knocked and there was no response. He knocked again and saw shapes move beyond the print curtain. Old Rachel answered the door. She saw Devon waiting in the sliver of light from the ajar door and said without looking away from him, “Aram!”
    Aram’s face appeared beside hers and stared silently at Devon. A voice Devon recognized as Rachel’s said from inside, “Who is it?”
    Her father half-turned. “No one, daughter. Do not bestir thyself.”
    Devon raised his voice: “Rachel! It’s me. This is important.”
    Aram started to close the door. Devon expediently put his booted foot in the gap. “Wait. I’ve got something to show all of you.”
    “Devon?” Rachel looked over her mother’s shoulder.
    Aram took a step backward and moved protectively in front of his wife and older daughter. “No one is there; not even a spirit of the night.”
    Devon took advantage of the moment to swing the door completely open. He stepped inside the house. Ignoring Aram and Old Rachel, he held up the cassette. “I caught him, Rachel. I caught Elder Micah telling the Creator’s machine what to say.”
    Ruth started to clamber down the ladder from the loft. Her father stopped her with a gesture of his arm. “It’s nothing, girl. Go back to bed.” He reverted to the jargon of the Elders. “Get thee gone, Devon. Go now before thou art done a harm. I mean thee no ill, boy, but there will be no blaspheming here.”
    Still ignoring him, Devon continued talking to Rachel. “Rachel, listen to me! The machine isn’t what the Elders say it is. I think it’s broken. I don’t know how long it’s been broken, but it was Elder Micah who said you had to mate with Garth, not the Creator! Look: I have it all here on this thing from the machine.... The voice is here.” Old Rachel said with horror. “Thee took from the machine of the Creator?”
    Aram snatched the cassette from his hand. “The holy relic! Thee stole—”
    Devon said relentlessly, “Rachel, please! Listen to me. What I’m telling you is that we can be together.... I fought with Micah and Jubal.... They tried to hide this... to stop me... to kill me...”
    “Thee smote the Elders?” said Aram.
    “Devon...” An expression he couldn’t decipher flickered across Rachel’s face.
    “We’ve got to let everyone know, Rachel. We’ve all been duped, used, lied to. Only the Creator knows for how long... maybe hundreds of cycles....”
    Aram lunged to the side of the kitchen and picked up the ax leaning against the firewood bin. He hefted it menacingly as he came toward Devon. “Get away, Devon. Go now or thee will suffer harm.” The keenly honed edge of the ax head glittered in the lamplight.
    Devon stepped backward onto the porch. Helplessly, he said to Rachel, “Come with me... please...”
    For a moment, only a moment, she started to take a step toward him. Her parents saw it instantly; old Rachel tightly held her arm; Aram stepped in front of her and gestured with the ax. Ruth watched wide-eyed from the top rungs of the ladder.
    Rachel spoke and Devon heard anguish in her voice. “I am my father’s and my mother’s daughter. I will do what I must. Go, Devon. Please go quickly...”
    Aram advanced a step. Devon