Free Swords and Saddles by Jack Campbell Page B

have been a ritual.”
    “A ritual?” Singh asked.
    “Yes. They keep asking her something, and she keeps saying no, and they ask her and seem like they’re trying to take it, to force her, but as long as she keeps saying no, keeps fighting them to hold it, they don’t kill her and they don’t actually tear it out of her hands. They hurt her, but the wounds all seem superficial. Painful, but nothing that would kill her or maim her.”
    “You’re saying that Archer did something right?” Johansen asked.
    “But what?” Adowa demanded. “What did she do?”
    Singh looked at Ariana. “Show us use it?”
    “That’s got to be the key,” she agreed. “That and Archer’s refusal to give it up.” Ariana sat looking at Archer. “Actions. Not words. What mattered with Horatio was what he did. What matters with Prometheus, how they identify Prometheus, is what he does. Test. That’s what the old Izkop meant. The ritual was a test. To see if she was aligned with the gods, or with Prometheus.”
    “I don’t get it,” Nassar said. “If the Izkop are judging us by what we do, then why didn’t they run us down after we got out of the valley? That wasn’t what Horatio did. Why didn’t the Izkop kill us when we ran?”
    Something clicked in Johansen’s head. “We happened to head this way by chance. And you kept us going toward here, Sarge. The right way. The Izkop nailed anyone who tried escaping in other directions. Maybe to the Izkop it looked like we were going to make sure we died defending others, like Horatio.”
    “That open path,” Goldera said. “After we got here and I scouted around and the way south looked wide open? They gave us a chance to keep running, to see if we’d do it.”
    “Damn.” Singh’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah. Like you said then, Johansen, too easy. They wanted to see if we’d keep running, or if we’d dig in and defend the civs. If we’d headed south they would have cut us up right then and there.”
    Adowa shook her head. “So we did the hero thing. Archer did the hero thing. The Izkop think that’s cool. But the rest of the battalion…what the hell did they do wrong? They didn’t even get a chance to head this way.”
    “Prometheus,” Ariana murmured. “Legions of demons.”
    “What?” Singh asked.
    She met the sergeant’s eyes, her own eyes so wide with a dawning realization that Ariana looked like some tragic cartoon figure. “The Izkop believe that you know good and evil by their actions. They tested Archer, and they’ve been testing humans without our realizing it, because we thought we were supposed to the ones observing and evaluating them. Every time the Izkop asked a human to show them something it was a test. It wasn’t curiosity, every time it was a test to evaluate our actions. Despite our explanations, the Izkop must still think our equipment was something from the gods, and every time we showed them how to do something we failed a test. Bit by bit we kept showing them more as they kept testing us, until someone in Amity must have crossed a line, shown the Izkop whatever was necessary to convince the Izkop that we were aspects of Prometheus, or working for Prometheus. That’s why they’re cutting open the bodies! To release the spirit inside and reveal the true nature of it to the gods in the sky for their judgment! Why didn’t I understand that before?”
    Singh watched her, his expression grim. “Because you were thinking of physical things being stolen, or scientific concepts. Not something as simple and everyday to us as how to use the stuff we carry around. They decided you civilians were working against the gods, trying to corrupt the Izkop.”
    “Yes.” Ariana’s voice had sunken to a whisper. “The Izkop destroyed everything we’d brought in order to…save their souls. And using that same equipment to attack you…the hand of the demon turned against it. There’s a myth about that. When you soldiers landed at the valley it looked to