Colony - Nephilim

by Gene Stiles

  “I am so glad you volunteered us for this duty,” Genaireus quipped dryly. “Our friends are out having fun, drinking wine and enjoying the company of willing women and you decide to try to leave early. Thank you for that.”

  “How was I to know the Captain would make one last round of the barracks before he left?” Tornellis complained. “He does not usually do that.”

  “Well, he did,” his friend countered. “Now we are stuck here all night. Remind me to pay you back soon for that.”

  “Do not worry. I will make it up to you on our next leave,” Tornellis replied. “All your drinks shall be on…”

  A noise coming down the corridor snapped them both to attention and stilled their conversation. They could not be seen slacking again. They both relaxed slightly as two beautiful girls stumbled around the corner. The scantily clad women leaned heavily upon each other, giggling as their legs wobbled. They bounced off the wood-paneled walls, smacking into one of the squared, oak pillars and slid down to the floor in a fit of laughter.

  Gen smiled at his friend, happy for such a lovely reprieve from their boring duty. He stepped away from his post to investigate, motion for Torn to join him. Tornellis was leery but then thought, ‘What the farth. We cannot get into any more trouble than we are already in.’

  The two women burst into drunken, hysterical laughter as the guards approached, not even attempting to rise to their feet. The ebony-haired beauties leaned their heads on each other’s shoulders, joyous tears streaming down their blushed cheeks. Their clothing was crumpled and disarrayed, exposing long, suntanned legs and a copious amount of cleavage.

  “Ladies,” Genaireus said, standing above them so his view was unobstructed, “what are you doing here?”

  “Where is ‘here’?” one of the women asked, her words slurred, causing her companion to cackle uproariously.

  “You are in the Great Pyramid,” Tornellis said, squatting down in front of the ladies. “You do not belong here. Let me help you up.”

  He was surprised at the strength of the grip upon his proffered hand, but not as much as when he was jerked forward. His face met a curled fist that slammed into his temple, sparks igniting behind his eyes just before the darkness took him.

  At the same moment, the woman in front of Genaireus kicked out with both feet, slamming his knees and knocking his legs out from under him. She whipped away from him as he fell, reaching her feet in a microsecond. A rock-hard knee met his sternum, his falling form adding to the impact. The blow drove the breath from his lungs and cracked a couple of ribs. He was unconscious before he landed, unaware the woman caught him in her hands, easing his descent.

  “Now,” Polydora whispered into her com as she grabbed the guard by his underarms and dragged him toward the doorway where he had been stationed. Her sister grabbed the other man by one arm, struggling under his greater weight.

  Melissa and her daughters hurried around the corner, leaving four men bound and gagged in the room they left behind. They would not awaken for some time. She took hold of the other arm of the man Eudora was trying to move while her girls helped Polydora. In moments, they got them inside, barely missing Metis with the doors as they burst open.

  “Bind them and tuck them into the closet,” Melissa ordered, grabbing the stunned Metis by the arm. “Let us go. We have little time.”

  They had less time than she thought. The sound of running boots filled the hallway as a squad of Black Guard rushed down the corridor. Melissa slammed the thick oaken doors closed, jamming a chair beneath the handles. She looked around frantically for another way out. There was none. They were trapped.

  As soon as the attack on the guards began, an alarm registered on the security monitors one floor below. The Aam stationed there saw the commotion on his screen and called for backup. At the same time, he sent an alert to the comlink of the Lord Father. He was glad Cronus added surveillance cameras to all hallways in the Great Pyramid after the horror at the festival. If not these intruders may have gotten away. He shuttered at the thought of the consequences if that had happened.

  A few miles away, Cronus spun his sled around on the rain-slicked street. The storm pounded the city in earnest, making it difficult to see even though the sonic emitters kept the water from the windshield. He had anticipated an attempt to free Metis, but he expected any assault would be on the dungeons where he let it be thought she was kept. That is where he stationed most of his men. How anyone found out where she was really at confounded him. Whoever let it slip would pay dearly.

  “I gave orders that the Guard remain outside until we arrive,” Iapetus said, his thick hands gripping the side of his seat as the sled swerved around a sharp corner. “There is no way out. We have them.”

  Cronus only nodded, furious someone had penetrated so deeply into the pyramid. No matter. He would use this to his advantage. Grimly, he sped toward the city center as quickly as the foul weather would allow.

  Across the street, Valkyrie had her hands full restraining her mother. Haleah howled out her rage and helplessness, matching the violent turbulence of the tempest outside. Her body screamed to enter the fray, tearing into the Aam from the rear. Yet, there were too many of them for her and her daughters to take, even if they had more than just short swords for weapons. Stupidly, she had decided that sidearms and rifles would be harder to conceal since only Cronus and his men had them. Now she wished she had chanced it.

  Melissa was calm and controlled on the comlink, only a slight quiver in her voice betraying her panic. She held no illusion they could evade capture. She begged her mother and sisters to get out of the city and leave them behind. She knew Haleah would never do that, but she had to try to convince her. Attempting rescue would only get them all caught.

  “I do not know why they wait,” Polydora said, piling more furniture in front of the doors. “They have the numbers and we have only swords. I am sure they are better armed. Why give us time to thicken the barrier?”

  “Because they know it is useless,” Elliana replied, fingering the edge of her sword. “A few well-placed blasts by a pulse rifle will blow the doors off their hinges. They are waiting for someone. I believe it is Cronus.”

  She turned her steely-gray eyes upon Melissa and said, “Forgive me, mother, but I do not intend to let them put me in the dungeons like they did to Grandmother. I remember well the stories she told and I do not plan on going out that way.”

  “As long as we are alive, there is a chance,” Melissa replied, her voice thick as she thought of her children being tortured and abused. Even worse would be watching them die. “I taught you better than to give up. That is weak and cowardly and none of you are those things. Stay strong.”

  From time to time, she could hear the Black Guard slamming against the doors, testing their strength. Their barrage seemed stunted and half-hearted as if they were more interested in tormenting their prisoners than in gaining entrance. As Elliana said, they were waiting.

  “We cannot wait,” Haleah said, her nerves frayed and burning. “We must get them out before re-enforcements arrive.” She started for the door only to be stopped by Valkyrie gripping her bicep.

  “No, mother,” the warrior woman said firmly. She was almost a head taller than her mother, stocky and well-muscled, but Haleah looked at her as if she were a petulant child about to be punished. “Wait a few moments longer. I have a plan. If it does not work, I shall be at your side even if we go down together.”

  “What plan?” Haleah demanded, her eyes as cold as a chipped mountain glacier. She jerked her arm from her daughter’s grasp even though it sent a ripple of pain up to her shoulder.

  Her question was answered by the opening of the office door. Valkyrie’s twin, Helena stepped inside carrying two long packs. With her was Helena’s granddaughters, Ianna and Perisea, each carrying similar duffels. They opened the packages revealing longbows and borithium-tipped aeros. Coils of heavy rope were in another bag and they slung these over their shoulders. Perisea tossed
a bow to Valkyrie along with a quiver and another rope.

  “We need to move to the roof,” Helena said, already heading for the stairs. “The angle of the pyramid makes shooting from here risky. The aeros could simply glance off the sides.”

  “What do you have in mind?” Haleah asked as she followed them upward.

  “I believe we can shatter the window behind our sisters,” Ianna replied, walking alongside her great-grandmother. “The borithium tips should penetrate the glass easily and embed themselves into the granite floor. We just have to hit it dead on at all the corners at once. With the ropes attached to the aeros, they might be able to scale down the outside of the pyramid before the guards realize what is happening.”

  “The timing must be perfect,” Perisea added as they neared the top, panting heavily. “Our scouts tell us Cronus is only a few blocks away. We want to wait until he enters the pyramid then pray for thunder to mask the sound of breaking glass.” A bolt of lightning split the night sky as if in answer to her prayer.

  Astonished at the plausibility of the plan, Haleah could do no more than nod her head. She silently blessed Lelantos, his invention and the extensive training he imposed on the Aam. Her girls proved adept students and were the best they had. If anyone could do this, it was them.

  The women pushed open the doorway to the roof, belting their sleeveless, hooded cloaks tightly around their waists to keep them from flapping in the wind. Each wore bronzed guards on their left forearms to protect them from the lash of the braided wire strings of the bows. Valkyrie informed Melissa of their plan before they reached the maelstrom outside and told them to clear the room so as not to be pelted by broken glass or accidentally skewered by the aeros. They took up positions on the roof ledge, tied the ropes to the shafts with a length of twisted wire, notched their bows and waited.

  Only seconds later, they saw Cronus and Iapetus skid to a halt near the main entrance and rush inside. They could not see it through the blanketing downpour, but Metis hustled her companions into the bedroom just as they drew back to fire.

  As if on cue, the sky erupted in a blaze of lightning and an explosion of thunder so close that the floor beneath them trembled. The women fired as one, the incredible power of the bows driving the shafts through the screaming wind as if it were naught but a light summer breeze. Across the street, the huge window cracked but did not shatter. With uncanny speed, the archers notched and fired another volley that struck the center of the spider-webbed glass. It erupted with shards of deadly slivers driven by the howling winds that tore through the doors and wooden walls. The guards lining the corridor outside were ripped into bloody pieces by the razor-edged splinters of oak and glass before their dying minds could comprehend what was happening. Large chunks of the four-inch-thick pane cascaded down the outside of the pyramid, blocking the main entrance with a mountain of diamond-like death.

  Metis raced into the room, her rescuers fast on her heels. She could feel the glass slice into her feet even through the thick soles of her calf-high boots. Wrapping the ropes around the bent steel stanchions that once held the window, she swung out into the rainstorm, towels encasing her hands. Ignoring the pain in her feet and the screams of agony coming from the hallway, she slid down the smooth side of the structure, clamping on for dear life.

  By the time her legs slammed into the polished granite walkway, her palms were burned and raw. Luckily, the majority of the falling pane had landed near the front doors. The ropes lay on the edges of the destruction and the wind had carried them to each side. Metis rolled onto the thick, rain-sodden grass, her breath coming in ragged gulps. Taking no time to rest, she helped the other women as they hit the ground hard. On the other side of the buried entrance, she could see her other companions picking themselves up and rushing out into the street. Across the way, dark, shadowy forms ran out into the storm to meet them. At first, Metis froze at the sight, but when the women met them, they clasped hands and raced for a lightless building.

  The Wind Song covered an entire city block on the other side of the Great Pyramid from where the women escaped. The gigantic basement underneath was roughly divided into two sections. The larger part contained racks of wines, liquors, an incredible array of supplies and wares for the emporiums surrounding the nightclub and refrigeration units for foodstuffs. It was accessible by a freight lift, stairs and a mini-lift that could take food and drink directly into the busy kitchen of the popular club. The smaller section took up roughly a third of the space. Haphazard piles of dusty old decorations, signage, pictures and furniture were scattered about in no particular order.

  Against the west wall of the storeroom, farthest from the stairs, stood a huge wooden rack that looked like a divided bookshelf. The chipped and worn shelves contained an odd assortment of grimy machine parts covered with years of dust and cobwebs. The only thing strange about it was the fact that the dirty floor in front of it was clear of any other debris.

  Hyperion made his way across the room, a lightcaster cutting a swath through the mote-filled gloom. Occasionally, he brushed old, decayed spider webs from his tightly curled, black hair, the oil on his ringlets attracting the strands like a magnet. He navigated around granite pillars and stacks of rubble with the ease of one who knew these paths well, his chipped-jade eyes searching for anything that might have fallen from the haphazard piles since his last visit.

  When he reached the old shelves, Hyperion paused and looked back over his shoulder. He knew no one else would be down here in this early morning hour, the shops above closed for the night, but he took no chances. That is why he did not turn on the main lights when he got down here. Assured he was alone, Hyperion took hold of an ancient piece of some derelict machine on the shelf fifth from the top and twisted to the right. An audible click followed his action, a little loud in the tomb-like silence of the room. A section of the shelves popped open allowing a sliver of dim, white light to show through. Checking one more time to make sure he was alone, he opened the hidden door and slipped inside, closing it behind him.

  “Cronus is going absolutely insane,” Hyperion told the women scattered around the secret quarters on a mismatched assortment of old sofas and chairs. Despite the seriousness of the situation, a wide, satisfied smile spread across he almost-feminine lips. “Black Guard are scouring every building and home in Atlantis. The golden city blazes even through this pounding storm. Cronus ordered every light turned on everywhere.”

  Hyperion seemed to be having a fantastic time watching the Lord Father go crazy. Even during this dire event, his humor and boyish charm radiated from his handsome, artistically carved features. In fact, he seemed happier than he had in many years.

  “I did not expect that to happen,” Valkyrie said, staring glumly into the strong, warm ale their host had provided. Her waist-length, blond braid hung limply over her right shoulder, still dripping from the rain outside. Her squarish jaw was clamped hard, pain and sorrow filling her blue eyes.

  “You mean the lights?” Hyperion asked surprised, wondering why such a thing would bother her.

  “No,” Valkyrie answered, shaking her head. “I mean the loss of life. I hoped we could get in and out without killing. That is why we only knocked out men we encountered. I did not anticipate the window exploding through the walls. How many guards died? I am very sorry for that.”

  “It was not your fault,” Helena said, reaching out with a gentle hand to reassure her sister. Unlike her twin, her yellow-blond hair was not braided but tied at the nape of her slender neck with another band encircling it near the bottom. “I know how much you value life,” she said, meeting Valkyrie’s damp eyes, “but did you really think we could pull this off without anyone dying?”

  “No,” was the sullen reply. “But I prefer to meet my enemy in fair combat with honor, not blow them apart from a distance.”

  “I am sorry to have put you in such a position,” Metis whispered from a tattered, dusky couch across from the twins. She stared into her light green tea as
she spoke, her angst clearly written upon her long, oval face. “I should have left the city some time ago.”

  “And you would have left many Nephilim to the anger of the mob,” Hyperion said, his temperament muted by the somber mood of his guests. He sat a steaming cup of dark tea on a small table and drew up a brown-leather, wingback chair. He stretched out his long dancer’s legs as he sat, crossing them at the ankle. “You have done a great service to the People, Metis. Never forget that. I know how proud of you your mother and father are. I, too, am honored to call you my friend.”

  “Thank you for that, Hyperion,” Metis said, the tiniest of smiles touching her lips. “And thank you for putting us up here. I know you take great risk.”

  “Posh! No risk at all,” he said, flipping his hand as he spoke. “No one knows of this place. When the Lady Haleah told me of the rescue plans, of course, I offered my help. She is one of my oldest friends. In fact, without her, I would not be sitting here now. I would be rotting away in some gas-filled ship beneath a mountain of rock as we all would.”

  “Sometimes I think I should have left the People there,” Haleah said, a trace of humor in her voice as she and several others prepared a breakfast of eggs, venison, ham and fried potatoes.

  “But if you had,” Hyperion replied, his bright eyes sparkling as he spoke, “not only would you not have met me, but you would not be blessed with so many lovely daughters.”

  He leaned forward and glanced in Haleah’s direction as she carried two platters of food his way. Hoping to lighten the atmosphere, Hyperion added, his eyes sparkling, “Like you, they are all quite beautiful. It is nice to have my own private flock of women hidden in my basement.”

  “Touch one of them and see how nice it is,” Haleah smiled back. “You may not enjoy the outcome.”

  Three weeks later, a large, gnarled log raced down the eastern length of the River Gaia, driven by the turbulent, white-capped rapids. It bounced upon the roiling waves but somehow kept the same side up thanks to the wide limbs that stuck out from either side. This man-made stretch of river cut through high granite cliffs, bordered on either side by a wide, flat boulevard. It ended at the Hebis Outpost where the river met the sea. The shoreline was too rocky for a true port, so the village was little more than barracks for the Aam who guarded the entrance and service areas for ships damaged by storm or inept captain.