Colony - Nephilim

by Gene Stiles

  “Yet, there is one prison I cannot free you from,” he continued dejectedly. “One from which there is no escape. That is the prison of your own minds. If this life is all you know and all you aspire to, so be it. There is so much more in the world you could accomplish. There are so many experiences to bath in and in which to relish with glorious wonder. The golden sun is miraculous upon the skin, the smell of freshly tilled fields and wildflowers so aromatic to the nostrils, the songs of birds so pleasing to the ears. There is a world of kindness and love, of happy, incredible people. But if this life is what you want, I could not nor would I attempt to force you to follow a different path.”

  “I had hoped we could face Cronus as a united front,” Zeus said, his voice becoming stronger with each word. “I believed that in doing so, that despicable animal and his old, subservient, obsequious cronies would see we could not be broken. That their ideas of rule under the crushing fist of one man – their ‘Lord Father’ – was obsolete and that it was time for a new order under the guidance of the very children Cronus hoped to destroy. That is, of course why he fears us so much, why he had us spirited away and tried to let life kill us. He did not even have the courage to kill us himself. Together, we spell his downfall and the rise of a greater civilization and he knows this.”

  “But only together,” Zeus finished bleakly, rising from the couch and reaching out his hand for Addy. “If this is not what you wish – to bring justice to all women and men – that is your choice. I shall bother you no more and, if you wish, I promise I shall tell mother I never found you.”

  “We shall take our leave now,” he said, heading for the office door. “I still have my brothers to find. Enjoy the rest of your lives.”

  “Wait,” Hera said, stopping him halfway across the floor. Something is his quiet, deep abiding sincerity touched her in ways she had trouble comprehending. Her heart quivered with an odd feeling like the trembling of a newly captured bird yearning to be freed from its gilded cage. One look at her sisters and Hera could tell something stirred within them as well.

  “Please sit,” she beseeched her brother softly. Hera stood slowly, reached out her hand to him and motioned for him to return to the sofa. “Tell us of our father and mother. Tell us of his atrocities that you wish to cleanse from the world. Tell us of all that has transpired – good and bad – in our absence. Tell us of yourself, your life, our mother and of our brothers.”

  “Maybe then,” Hera said gently, glancing at her sisters and seeing the acquiescence in their eyes, “we shall see if there is anything we can do to help.”

  Demeter ran her long fingers through the loamy soil next to the western estuary of the Planum River, streams of tears flowing silently down her blushed cheeks. She knelt in the low, green grasses and raised the rich, black dirt to her straight, narrow nose, drinking it the pungent aroma of life. So different from the rocky soil of the Daedalia plains, this felt warm and thick in her palm, small worms curling upon her hand. The air was resplendent with the myriad scents of blooming wildflowers and the songs of rainbow-colored birds that sang of life and freedom from the branches high above them. Her chest heaved as she wept for the many decades she willingly wasted away from such glorious abundance. Demeter welcomed the burning of the hot, golden sun hanging in a turquoise sky as it touched upon her exposed, pale skin, blaming her tears on the dazzling, yellow light engulfing her. She smiled wanly, allowing the tip of her tongue to taste the tangy soil in her hand before brushing it off against her tan leather pants. Loath to leave the small meadow, Demeter turned slowly to join her siblings at the campfire blazing in the clearing by the shoreline.

  Their small sailboat was pulled up against the low bank of a small inlet and anchored to a small oak tree, freeing it from the pull of the rushing waters of the river. After four days of hearing of the tragedies that had befallen the Izon, the rise of Ra in the northeastern lands, the spread of the People throughout the globe and the iron grip of Cronus and his Black Guard, the sisters decided it was time for them to return to the world. Leaving the Dire Wolf in the capable hands of the woman, Desiree, their friend and confidant, they joined Zeus when he returned to Home.

  Deciding not to risk an overland trip that would take them too close to Atlantis for comfort, Zeus booked passage on a trader’s ship that was headed north. The girls hated being passed off as the Lady Adrastea’s cloaked handmaidens but agreed it would be better if their absence went unnoticed for a time. Atlantis had spies everywhere. Brock refused to leave their side no matter how much Hera pleaded, so he assumed the role of bodyguard, Zeus easily acting the part of spoiled dilatant. The trader Captain eyed them curiously when they asked to buy a small boat and to be let off on the empty shores of Delecrete, but he took their gold without hesitation, gladdened he would have more room for trade goods within the belly of his ship.

  “Home sounds like an incredible place,” Hera was saying when Demeter returned to the group. “How you managed to keep the place hidden from Atlantis for so long is nothing short of a miracle.”

  “It is beautiful, to be sure,” Adrastea admitted with a warm, genuine smile. “It is the people who make it so much more than the landscape does. The Izon and the People have learned much from each other and, in that, we have grown stronger and wealthy not in gold, but in spirit.”

  “And the Izon are bloodkin,” Hestia mused, her wavy auburn hair rippled by the warm easterly wind that blew in from the sea, touched with a taste of salt. Highlights of reddish hues sparkled in the bright sunshine, surrounding her long oval face like a corona of flame. “Cronus knew this and kept it from the People,” she continued, her green eyes shimmering, her brow furrowed. “It is difficult to believe. They look so different from us and do not even speak our language. If true, why would he keep such knowledge from the People?”

  “It is true,” Adrastea assured her. “I am living proof of that. Haleah of the Izon is my mother and Morpheus of the People my father. If we were not of one species, such a mating would not be possible.”

  “Yet, though my memory is hazy, from what I remember of Haleah,” Hestia countered, “she appeared more like one of the People than the Izon. Would that not have made a difference?”

  “Not really. Love has flourished among the people of Home,” she replied with a smile. “We are all children of the Creator. Love is not based on physical appearance but on the content of the heart. There are countless Cros – halflings like myself – among us now.”

  “Cronus fears the Izon,” Zeus added. “He sees them as an abomination, an aberration caused by this world’s harsh environment without our technology and purity of blood. He is afraid the children of the People will all eventually change into such ‘ugliness’. He cannot see that it is our innate ability to Heal and adapt that gave our descendants the tools they needed to survive. A gift from the Creator. Without it, our race would have perished eons ago. Unfortunately, many of the People feel as Cronus does. People hate what they fear and they kill what they hate.”

  “That is why he wiped us from his life,” Hera said, her voice quivering, the darkness of rage clouding her visage. “He saw us as a threat to his reign, especially you, my brother. He sees you as the fulfillment of an ancient prophesy.”

  “Yet a spark of a father’s love prevented him from killing you,” Adrasteia reminded them softly.

  “Ha!” Hera snickered, spitting on the flames. “Would that he had. It would have been kinder than what my sisters and I endured.”

  “Yet, endured you have,” Zeus countered. “Endured and become the stronger for it. We all have. It is that very strength we shall need if we are to unseat such a twisted tyrant.”

  “I wonder what has befallen our brothers,” Demeter said pondered bitterly, prodding the glowing embers before her with a long red-tipped stick. “What have their lives been like? Have they suffered as we have or did they find a safe and loving haven as did you?”

  Zeus noted the resentful, acrimonious envy in her tone and could no
t fault any of them for it. The more he learned of his siblings over the years, the more he realized how blessed his life truly was. Finally meeting them in person, seeing where they were raised and the horrors of the life they were forced to live cut into him like a skinner’s knife held into a blazing fire.

  “I am sorry,” Zeus said, lowering his head and staring at his hands, ashamed of his almost carefree childhood. “I swear to you, if I knew where you were, I would have come much, much sooner. I hope you can forgive me.”

  “No forgiveness is needed,” Demeter returned, a tiny, sorrowful smile upon her full, pink lips. “I did not mean to imply it was your fault. You could have forgotten about us. You could have forged a life without the burden of our existence. After all, you never grew up with any of us. You do not even know us.”

  “Still,” she said, shifting position to kneel beside him on the grass, cupping his strong features in the palm of her hands and staring into his odd golden eyes, “you did search for us. You did find us. And you did draw us back into this beautiful, forgotten world. We thank you for that.”

  Zeus leaned his head against hers, kissed her on her brow and closed his eyes, tears seeping from the corners. The six of them sat in quiet contemplation for long moments, each lost in their own thoughts and memories. The bond between them grew with each passing hour and Zeus only hoped he was leading them to a better life and not into battle.

  “We shall be in Home by the morrow,” Adrasteia said as the sun began to lower in the horizon. “We have much to show you. Let us share a warm meal and get some rest.”

  Brock sat close to Hera, mute, unable to find his place in this company of family. Would he be cast aside when his Lady found herself surrounded by kind, gentle, loving people? What use would she have for a tough old warrior? He sat up his tent next to hers, his sleep troubled as he curled up in his blankets upon the thick carpet of smooth, green grass. Somewhere in the black, starry night, he managed to slumber, his thoughts troubled by dark, nameless nightmares.

  The morning broke warm and windy, the yellow orb in the east rising behind a wide band of bloody-red clouds. The breeze gusting in from the west was moist and salty, the taste of a storm to come caressing their lips as it swept across their faces. A noisy flock of gulls passed overhead flying toward the sea and a promise of a breakfast of the crabs that scurried over the low-tide rocks. A small herd of white-tailed deer passed through the veldt, eyeing the companions cautiously as they nibbled upon the tips of the high, green grasses of the meadow. Multicolored songbirds chirped within the branches of the tall grove of oaks that sat near the shore of the churning river. A day of beauty and full of life.

  The sisters listened to the chattering of the landscape, unable to prevent wide, happy smiles from spreading across their dour features. They luxuriated in the sounds of nature awakening to a new day, so different from the constant bustling noise of the mines. Despite the traumas of their lives, or maybe because of it, the world now seemed full of promise, wonder, life and joy, lightening the load upon their weary souls. After breaking their fast with sweet cakes, eggs, sausages and a hot, dark, bitter brew from the mountains of Tartarus that Zeus called coffee, they packed up their tents and blankets, stowing them away in their small sailboat.

  Zeus manned the tiller while Addy adjusted the sails as they returned to the strong current of the rolling river, grateful for the stiff winds that pushed them steadily upstream. He grinned happily, watching his sisters marvel at the wild cats, packs of small wolves and various woodland creatures that stopped at river’s edge for a taste of the cool waters. Demeter leaned against the bow rail, her fingers trailing in the clear, blue water, her eyes wide as large, colorful fishes swam alongside the boat. Hestia stared wide-eyed at the amazing array of trees and plant life that lined the shoreline and the abundance of jubilant aromas that tickled the nostrils with a myriad of mostly pleasing scents. Hera sat at the prow, the stoic Brock at her side, watching the landscape pass by, quietly murmuring unheard words of wonder to her strangely sober friend. All other concerns temporarily forgotten, Zeus basked in the sunlight and gleeful exultation of his family found.

  Drawing his craft at last into the camouflaged inlet that led up the channel to the lake, he noted a strange, unpleasant scent invade his nostrils. His senses flared into instant full alertness. Addy noticed it, too, and glanced his way, her body taut, her eyes turning to peer across the monstrous, black-watered lake. The wind was at their back so the odor was faint and not easily recognized. What they did notice was the lack of sound. Home should be alive and busy at this time of the morning, boats skimming the waters, ships leaving the harbor for runs along trade routes and dockmen shouting out as freight was loaded or brought ashore. Instead, Home was eerily silent.

  Zeus steered the boat to the nearest shore and beached it upon the white sands. Brock and his sisters felt the sudden change of course and the rising tenseness in his body. Their conversations stilled, their faces darkening at the look of wariness draping their hosts. Their brother did not need to warn them that something was amiss. It was written in his furrowed brow, narrowed eyes and the strained rigidness of his muscles.

  Zeus drew the farseers from the pouch upon his hip and centered them upon the empty docks, anchored ships moored and unmanned. Not a single soul walked along the shoreline or upon the byways leading into the city. Home seemed deserted, as if the entire population had vanished leaving nothing but an empty tomb behind them.

  The rising sun blinded him, preventing Zeus from seeing much beyond the abandoned waterfront. He lowered his glasses to adjust the settings so the lenses would be polarized against the glare when the explosion assaulted his ears. A giant fireball erupted in the air, the red, yellow and white blaze and thick, black smoke momentarily blotting out the sun. Blobs of flaming white burst into the air high above the city melting whatever they touched, glass, crystal, wood and stone. Where it hit the lake, pockets of fire and steam writhed upon the water. Within moments, all of Home was engulfed in furious flames. He stood stunned, barely registering the horrified exclamation from Addy.

  “Oh, Creator!” she shouted, her hands thrown over her gaping mouth. “What on earth was that?”

  Zeus waited only long enough for the deadly rain to abate then rushed to the boat, shouting for the others to get aboard. Grimly, he guided the craft across the lake at full sail, careful to avoid the churning fire blisters and rushed toward his home on the southern outskirts of the city. The stiff winds pushed the inferno easterly, thankfully away from his house and lands, and kept the tempest of smoke from choking them as they slammed into the sandy beach with enough force to sink the prow deeply into the shoreline. The heat from the hellish firestorm created its own tremulous gale, shifting the winds toward the north, pushing the nightmarish configuration further through the cityscape, destroying all in its path, but keeping it away from their location.

  Scrambling from the craft, Zeus bolted toward his cabin, his companions hard on his heels. He smashed through his front door, heading for the staircase that led underground to the small armory and garage sunken beneath the residence. He tossed canvas bags over his shoulder toward the others, ordering them to gather all the weapons they could carry. Addy grabbed two large, strapped duffels and hurried through the house grabbing clothing, data crystals, a few irreplaceable treasures and sealed packages of foodstuff.

  Three sleds and a small freight hauler sat in their berths near the ramp that led through steel doors and upward to the surface. They tossed the bags on the larger one, strapping sidearms and long knives to their hips. Unintentionally protected from the magnetic pulses that fried the all other electronics in Home by the thick granite walls of the sunken basement, the vehicles came to life immediately, filling the chamber with a soft hum.

  “What could have happened?” Hera asked, belting a CL pistol to her waist opposite her long knife, securing it to her thigh, and slinging a plasma rifle across her shoulder. Her dark green eyes seethed beneath her f
urrowed brow, her thin tan lips drawn tightly across her strained features.

  “Cronus,” Zeus stated harshly, the word bitten through his clenched teeth. “He must have found us. Only he would have orchestrated such a vicious, unprovoked attack. The how and why is not important. We will learn that soon enough. As for now, we must escape and get to the rest of our people.”

  “How do you know if they live,” Hestia questioned, tying a wide leather headband around her forehead to keep the waves of auburn hair from her eyes, “or where they might have gone?”

  “The people of Home always knew there was a possibility we might be discovered one day,” Addy replied, strapping their bags down on the bed of the freight hauler. “We planned for it. There is a system of hidden caves built into the Merilic Mountains to the northeast. We call it the Retreat. If they escaped, that is where they would go.”

  “We must move cautiously,” Zeus snapped angrily, his sharpness not directed at the others. He threw his leg over one of the sleds, turning toward his companions. “Addy, you take the hauler and one of the sleds. My sisters will go with you. You know the route and how to avoid detection. Brock and I will search for Cronus and his men and led them away if necessary.”

  “We are going with you,” Hestia stated defiantly, her face set and firm. “If we have to fight, you will need help.”

  “I thank you,” Zeus nodded curtly, a tiny trace of a smile hiding beneath his thick, red beard, “but I just found you. I need to know you are safe.”