Colony- Olympian

by Gene Stiles

  “Nothing but our extinction and an end to one of his greatest enemies,” a voice shouted from the back. An angry swell of agreement swept across the chamber, gaining volume as it went. Astraeus stood and slammed his staff on the marble floor, the disk at its crest swirling with crimson and blue. The commotion subsided, but surly dissension still rippled over the crowd.

  “Cronus is a madman,” Captain Germaine said glumly as he stood. He kept his tone respectful and his back straight as he spoke to the Trinity. “We have all witnessed his insanity and cruelty. What makes you think he will not attack if, as my friend said, he decides the end of Nil would be better than having our power turned against him? I think we should capitulate to his demands.”

  It took the entire Trinity to still the furious uproar that followed. Once order was restored, Ra addressed the chamber.

  “We will never bend a knee to Cronus,” he said bluntly, his azure eyes as steely as a polished blade. “We built Nil on the foundations of peace and freedom for all the races of humanity. To give in to tyranny would be contrary to every principle we hold dear. This we shall never allow.”

  “Atlantis demands we turn the children of Cronus over to him,” Ra continued sternly. “Even if we were inclined to do so, how do you propose we accomplish that? Do we take war to Olympus, enslave its people and take those who have put their lives on the line to protect Nillian lands prisoner? I promise you,” he said, his face as hard as a granite cliff, “this will never happen.”

  He could see red cheeks of shame appear on many of those around him and a lowering of heads. On others, Ra saw fear, raw and primal as the images of Olympia scrolled across the giant wall screens. “If we must wage war it will not be upon our friends and allies. It will be upon those who threaten our way of life and the safety of our people.”

  “We have done our best to stay out of the conflict between Zeus and Cronus,” Ra said, his tone touched with sadness and a tinge of remorse. He shook his head and swept his gaze over the room. “Maybe we should have stepped in earlier. Regardless, it is time to correct that mistake. It is time to stop the Lord Father once and for all.”

  Ra looked to Astraeus and Isis, seeing the agreement in their eyes. “We join with Olympus and take the fight to Atlantean shores.”

  “Are you sure?” Ra asked the old Nillian scholar. “If you are wrong, it will mean the end of all we have worked so hard for these past centuries.”

  Meleknight sat at his oversized mahogany desk, data crystals piled in haphazard heaps on its worn, stained surface and strewn across the shelves lining the wall behind him. His thin, scraggly silver hair fell from his elongated skull like wisps of smoke and drifted over his pale yellow, ellipsoid eyes. He pushed the strands aside with his bony, long-fingered hand and nodded at Ra. “I am sure,” he said, his ancient voice cracked and rough with age. “However, it will mean diverting the energy of all three pyramids to power the shield. We will have to stop pulsing the Message into space.”

  Ra cussed long and fluently, something he rarely did. It brought a tiny smile of amusement to Meleknight’s almost non-existent lips. The former High Priest had grown quite fond of the Lord Ra over the years. He was glad to have been retained after the original Trinity was overthrown by the Atlantean. Apophus never treated Meleknight with the respect he now had. The defeated ruler only tolerated the old man out of fear and his need for his Cydonian knowledge. Ra made Meleknight his top advisor and truly listened to what he had to say.

  “How many pulses have we already sent?” Ra asked, studying the holo hovering above the huge workbench that took up the center of the room. The image showed an iridescent dome over the city that stretched for fifty miles in every direction. The bluish-white bubble shimmered and shifted in the false sunlight, beautiful and alive.

  “Twelve,” Meleknight responded, consulting a data crystal display on his screen. “How long it may be before they are heard if at all is out of our hands.”

  “They will have to do for now,” Ra said, staring out of the window at the city below. “Atlantis is the more immediate concern. Once Cronus is defeated, we can resume the Message.”

  The sky above Nil was gray and gloomy, a thick blanket of dreary clouds blocking out the sunshine. The streets bustled with activity, yet gone was the joy and happiness that usually filled the air. Fear and fury accompanied every footstep and seeped into every muted conversation. Ra knew he must give the people an irrefutable guarantee they and their loved ones would be safe.

  “What about the radiation?” he asked.

  “The force field will consume the fallout much as your armor absorbs energy,” Meleknight replied confidently. “It will use the radiation to strengthen itself and prevent it from poisoning the land.”

  “Speaking of the armor,” Ra said, glancing back over his shoulder. “Can it withstand the blast of such a weapon?”

  “Unknown,” Meleknight said, shaking his head as he rifled through a pile of crystals. “I could not find a reference to the limits of their abilities. Ah,” he said, loading a long, faceted crystal into the reader. Ra’s Hawk armor appeared over the table and turned in a slow circle. “We know the suits are adaptive. The metal plates shift, change size and rearrange themselves to adjust to the stature and shape of the wearer. Once they are used, they are keyed to that wearer and that wearer only until that person dies. They produce their own force fields not unlike the one I propose we place over the city so they, too, are immune to and will absorb the radiation.”

  “Their only true weakness is kinetic impact,” the old man continued, rising from his chair with a creak of weary bones. He walked to the table and studied the holograph of the magnificent armor. “You have used this in battle, Lord Ra. You have felt the pressure the systems put on your body and mind even through their protection.”

  “Yes,” Ra said, nodding his head as he remembered the muscle-bruising pain he felt afterward. “Raet, Isis and Astraeus have suffered the same thing.”

  Meleknight placed a gnarled hand on Ra’s shoulder, his wrinkled, ancient face showing his fondness and concern for the younger man. “Even if you can withstand the awesome power of the Atlantean weapon, it is assured you will be tossed like a limp blade of grass in a maelstrom. How broken your body might be after that is something I do not know.”

  “Pray I do not have to find out,” Ra said with a resigned sigh. “How long before you can shield the city?”

  “Days,” Meleknight said assuredly. “The machinery for the Message requires only changes in coding to reassign its purpose.”

  “Get it done,” Ra said, thanking the Nillian and walking toward the door. “I must speak to Lord Zeus before I give Atlantis our answer.”

  Late spring brought an incredible beauty to the Lunae Valley lying far to the east of the rugged mountains of the Sanctuary. Neatly tended farmlands sprouted colorfully with crops of maize and a wide variety of other vegetables. Red, purple and green grapes formed young lumps amid the verdant creepers of the vineyards. The orchards of apples, peaches, pears and cherries marched in long, straight rows, their bases surrounded by a carpet of fallen blossoms. A happy mixture of all the races of humanity knelt in the soil, walked among the trees and tended flocks of mountain sheep. This was the kind of world both Nil and the Olympians wanted for their people which is why Zeus chose this place to meet Ra instead of within the somber caverns of the Sanctuary.

  Zeus stood on the packed earth tarmac, his brothers and sisters at his side as the Nillian airship settled to the ground. Despite the gravity of their meeting, he was glad to welcome Ra to this vibrant community. The two men shared much in common and Zeus was ever grateful to the Trinity for their continued support and protection.

  Ra stepped from the gangway of the ship dressed in full armor sans his Hawk helmet. At his side, Raet was stunning in her magnificent maroon and yellow battle suit, the vicious-looking Falcon face cradled in her arm. The brilliant sunshine glittered off the metallic tiles of their garb, adding to the majes
tic vision. Ra walked to Zeus, Raet half a step behind him, and clasped Zeus by the forearms, a warm smile on his chiseled features.

  “It is good to see you, my friend,” he said, adding gravely, “Even in these troubled times.”

  “Welcome, Lord Ra,” Zeus replied formally, “and you, Lady Raet.”

  “Just Raet,” the raven-haired woman said with a smile. “There is no need for titles among friends.”

  Ra nodded in agreement. “Forgive us for coming in battledress. We did not know if we might be attacked on our way here. The world is a dangerous place at present.”

  “I do understand,” Zeus said, his voice hard and his golden eyes darkening. “I wish you were here under better circumstances. Please, join us in the Main House where refreshments await. We can talk there.”

  After greeting the rest of the Olympians, Raet said, “If you do not mind, may we take a moment to change? This gear is very uncomfortable.”

  “Of course,” Hera replied, taking Raet by the arm. “We have quarters already awaiting you. I hope you can stay for a short while. I would love to hear all about your wonderful city. I hope to visit one day.”

  “Unfortunately,” Ra said, his voice edged with bitterness as they walked toward the waiting transport, “we cannot stay long. Things are critical as you well know. There is little time to prepare. We come to join with you and ask for your help in return.”

  “And you shall have it,” Zeus affirmed, his tone like sharpened steel. “We must stop the insanity of Atlantis and the only way to do that is together.”

  “We cannot shield your cities as we can Nil,” Ra said, sipping on an aged, red wine. He settled in the corner of one of the well-padded couches of the Main House of Lunae, now dressed in a white, crimson-trimmed tunic that fell to mid-thigh. “You simply do not have a power source strong enough to create the field. However, what we can do is provide you with our technology and our teams in hopes you can devise weapons and countermeasures against further nuclear attacks.”

  “I highly doubt we will be given time,” Lelantos replied, the gold flecks in his narrowed hazel eyes glittering in the firelight from the huge hearth. “Even with the aid of your scientists and the skills of our own. Cronus demands our surrender immediately. You have seen what was left of Olympian. How can we protect ourselves against such destruction?”

  “We cannot,” Zeus said bluntly. He leaned forward in his armchair, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands knotted together. “The only thing we can do is take on Atlantis on its home ground. It is unlikely Cronus would unleash such horror upon his own lands.”

  “The real problem is getting our forces there,” Poseidon said, stretching his long, hugely muscled legs out on a footstool. The sharp lines of his artistically sculpted face were like hardened granite. His verdigris eyes were as dark as a jungle forest and narrowed to mere slits. “If Cronus used such a weapon over our fleet at sea there would be nothing left but ashes.”

  “We do have one significant advantage of which Cronus is unaware,” Hades said as he stared thoughtfully into his swirling cup of green tea. His midnight eyes were hidden under bushy black brows drawn together beneath his furrowed forehead. When he raised his gaze to the others, there was a terse smile on his full, tan lips. “We have the mines.”

  Glancing at his sisters sitting together on the beige leather sofa to his left, Hades saw them nod and continued. “My sisters and I control the pits all along the western Atlantean coast and the pleasure houses in every city on the continent. Our people have been ready to rise up for years and only await our orders to do so. If we could land sufficient forces to support them, we will have thousands of fighters to join our ranks that know the lay of the land far better than we do. Add to that the disruption caused by cutting off the resources the mines provide and we can put a crack in the Lord Father’s defenses.”

  “Our sisters in the houses continue to provide us with the majority of our intelligence from Atlantis,” Hera said, a tiny smile coming to her thin, pink lips. “Men love to talk when they are satisfied.” After the guffaws died down, she said, “From what we have learned, a vast percentage of the People are against the actions of Cronus. The loss of so many of their sons and daughters in his war and his raise in taxes to support it have soured them and fueled the rebel factions fighting him from within. Even many of his officers have lost faith in the Lord Father’s crusade.”

  “In truth,” Hestia said, her voice soft, but razor-edged, “the only reason real civil war has not broken out is because the rebellion simply does not have the armament to take on the army of Cronus. If we can provide it, the power of the Twelve will be eroded further.”

  “The Twelve are already shattered,” Oceanus said as he stood by the fire. He watched the glowing embers and flickering flames and saw in them the face of Cronus, once his friend, brother and leader. The pain he felt in his broad, muscled chest was not just from anger, but from the loss of that kinship.

  “Three of us already reside among you,” he said, waving a thick-fingered hand toward Tethys and the silent, brooding Rhea. “Hyperion never leaves the Wind Song anymore. The twins, Thea and Themis, are vocal opponents of Cronus and no longer welcome in the Pyramid. The Twelve have been officially disbanded. All of the power of Atlantis is controlled by Cronus and his legions.”

  “Yet,” Zeus said, his tone hard and touched with bitterness, “as divided as the People are, those that support Cronus are fanatical in their loyalty. Not just his armies, but ordinary citizens as well. Make no mistake, a war on Atlantean soil will not be easy. We will be forced to kill our own people.”

  Zeus shook his head sadly, running a hand through his wavy golden-red hair. “I do not look forward to that.” Sweeping his eyes over the people gathered around him, his strong, artistically sculpted features were weary but determined. “But if we do not move soon, Cronus will unleash hellfire upon the world. Hundreds of thousands will die horribly. We cannot let that happen.”

  “Here is my proposal,” Ra said, agreeing with Zeus’ assessment. He turned the data pyramid in his hand and a holo of the Atlantean continent shimmered in the air before him. “Between Nil and Olympus, we have over a hundred warbirds, forty Raptors and eighty transports. We will use them for air support for our fleets. I suggest a five-pronged attack.”

  Ra stood and pointed to cities on the image. “We blanket Atlantis and Sirenum with MPs as a diversion while Poseidon and my Admirals attack these three major port cities – Lycus and Hebis at the ends of the River Gaia and Daedalia on the southern coast. That will effectively cut off access to the sea and cripple the Atlantean navy. If we can do this simultaneously, it should give our armadas time to land our troops.”

  Zeus listened attentively, seeing the strengths and weaknesses of the plan. “Though it sounds good, I see some major problems.” He raised his hand and ticked off the issues. “First is getting our fleets within range undetected. Secondly, I know after our previous attack on Sirenum, it has been extensively shielded against MP blasts. Also, it is heavily fortified and protected. The only way to harm it will be to bomb it into submission and put boots on the ground to take the compound. This we must do. Its weaponry is our greatest threat.”

  “Lastly,” Zeus said, rising to stand with Ra, “is Daedalia. The port’s air and sea defenses have also been strengthened and reinforced since we devastated the shipyards. It will not be an easy target.”

  “Understood,” Ra replied with a thoughtful nod. “I am aware of Daedalia’s fortifications. It does have one mammoth weakness.” The vicious, predatory smile that came to his lips was anything but humorous. “It has never be assaulted from within.”

  The small pleasure yacht docked in a section of the harbor set aside for private craft. It was unremarkable by city standards, being neither too ostentatious nor shabby. She boasted two large rectangular sails and a deck of polished teak. The sailboat was older, but well-maintained and painted a brilliant turquoise with white stripes. Among the l
arger vessels berthed in the slips around her, she did not stand out as anything special at all.

  The huge, three-masted cargo ship from Clearwater Fortress that arrived later in the evening garnered only slightly more attention. The Verialline was three days behind schedule and did not usually come in after dark. The northwestern seas were stormy for the last week so the vessel’s lateness was not particularly out of the ordinary. Her crewmen and Captain were well-known in the port, however, and their attitudes as they chatted with the stevedores were friendly and caused no undue alarm.

  Of greater noteworthiness was the number of miners wandering the streets of Daedalia and filling the taverns and inns along the wharves. They were easy to spot as they all wore the same drab beige tunics and tan wool breeches they wore when they were working. Though the innkeepers and bar owners were grateful for the extra coin dropped in their purses, it was odd to see hundreds of workers descend upon the city at one time. Rumors spread that the ventilation system used to keep the lower levels cool enough to work in had failed and was down for maintenance, easily explaining the unexpected influx of off-duty personnel.

  No one noticed how the miners seemed to gather in nightspots close to the military complex nor how many took rooms near the shipyards. Several of the squads of patrolling Aam saw how well armed the men and women were, but attributed it to the dangers inherent in any rambunctious port of call. The dingier dives where rowdy sailors gathered were known for brawls and back-alley bandits. The Aam saw nothing dangerous in the laughter and comradery of the large groups of people roaming the nightlife. Still, the sheer number of miners in this section of the city made the Aam uneasy and leery. They kept their eyes alert and their hands a little closer to their weapons. As the night passed with no major confrontations or fracases, the guard relaxed somewhat, breathing a little easier as dim sunshine fought vainly to cut through the veil of gray stratus clouds that covered the skyline.