Colony- Olympian
Page 43
Saying no more, the Lord Father made his way to his private quarters. He dimmed his windows and poured a large tankard of his strongest ale and drank himself into a stupor. Seeing the devastation of the empty streets of Olympia did not prepare him for the weapon’s barbaric, gruesome effect on living, breathing tissue. If he had known the consequences, Cronus would have buried the hellish technology in the deepest, darkest pit in the desert and wiped any mention of it from existence. Yet, it was here now and he must decide what to do with it. No matter his revulsion, he knew he could use it to end the war and bring the world under Atlantean rule once and for all. At least he would fear his children no more. None of them could have survived that ghoulish, brutal attack. If Zeus had escaped Atlantis and made his way home, he, too, was gone.
Word would get out no matter his threats. Cronus knew this. He had to control the narrative which is why he deleted the images of people from the archives. Even the mighty Ra would crumble if he thought Nil could be reduced to ash. His power was nothing compared to such a weapon. Cronus doubted the fabled armor would withstand such awesome primal energies. Ra would fall.
The ale slowly dulled his self-loathing. Somehow, it seemed to clear his feverish, guilt-ridden mind and Cronus began to calculate his next steps. His last ultimatum had brought Ra and the Olympians to his own shores. He would broadcast the devastation of Olympus to the world. With their homeland gone, Zeus’ forces would shatter. Once the Nillians saw this, Ra would have no choice but to capitulate to Atlantean will. As sickened as he was, Cronus would restore order to the planet by any means necessary.
In a tiny corner of his turbulent, troubled mind, a small voice whispered, “Is this the excuse your father, Uranus, used when he tried to condemn the People of Atlan to certain death? Have you become the man you murdered?”
Ra walked alone through the streets of Daedalia unarmored wearing only a gold-edged, knee-length, white wrap, sandals laced above his calves and a metal girdle of maroon tiles trimmed in black that stopped just short of his bulging pectorals. A long sword with a carved mahogany hilt hung from a wide belt of black leather that encircled his thick waist, the plain leather scabbard strapped loosely to his thigh. The crown of Nil rested on his deeply furrowed brow, the sun disk pulsing with angry red, yellow and black swirls that matched his mood.
Even though the fighting had ceased and much of the city returned to an uneasy normalcy, skirmishes still broke out in small pockets of resistance. Ra strolled through one such area now. It was his greatest wish at the moment that he would be attacked by a band of rebels. He craved a target on which to unleash the burning rage that rippled through his quaking body, but he would go unsatisfied on this most horrible of days.
“Are you out of your mind?” Raet yelled at him as she brought her sled to a sudden stop at his side. Behind her, a transport of heavily-armed Aam unloaded and fanned out to provide a wall of protection around their Lord. Her over-sized, almond-shaped, hazel eyes crackled with sparks of lightning. “What are you doing out here without escort? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
“On the contrary,” Ra bit back, his voice razor-edged. His sapphire eyes glittered with malice and his ample lips cut a sharp, hard line across his square jaw. The well-defined muscles on his massive forearms quivered, the tendons standing out in high relief against his slightly reddish skin. “I am searching for something to kill.”
“Well, both things are likely to occur if you insist on ditching your royal guard and running off alone,” Raet admonished him. “Now get on the sled and come with me back to the Main House,” she ordered, glaring angrily up at him.
“Watch your tone! Do you forget who you speak to?” Ra retorted furiously, his fists planted on his hips. “I am the one who gives commands here, not you!”
“And do you forget, I am the one responsible for your safety?” Raet snapped back harshly, impervious to his tone. Knowing arguing would do nothing but infuriate Ra more, she changed tactics. “Get yourself on the sled or I will throw your unconscious body over the seat myself!”
Towering more than three foot above her, Ra could not help but smile grimly. “You would try, I have no doubt.” Her ludicrous comment did have the desired effect, however, and he sighed heavily, his body relaxing somewhat. “Alright,” Ra said, his voice softening. “Let us go.”
The Main House was a hive of chaotic, inflamed activity. Atlantean and Nillian alike were sickened and outraged by Cronus’ broadcast and the utter, animalistic destruction of a thriving city. They did not need to see the deleted images of thousands of bodies to picture the dead. Though not even their most heinous imaginings could compare to the reality, they were enough to unite the two peoples against the monster who could use such a despicable weapon.
“Lord Ra,” a soldier said, snapping to stiff attention before him. His face was as black and dour as a stormy night and his eyes were mere slits beneath his crinkled brow. “We now know Cronus hit two cities. They were Set’s cities of Novalosha and Gormorian in the heart of Irindia, not Olympian cities as Atlantis claims.” His lips trembled as he added, “Nothing is left of them but ruins and rubble.”
Ra slammed his fist upon the table with force enough to crack the polished oak. “Nearly a hundred thousand people lived in those cities! Are you telling me they are all gone?”
“No, sir,” the man replied glumly. “But they are dying.”
“The radiation,” Raet said, her eyes wide and wet as the realization hit her. Her knees went weak and she slumped in her chair. “Oh, Creator!”
Stunned by her reaction, those around her stopped around her and stared, not understanding. Of those in the house, only she and Ra knew from the archives what nuclear fallout would do. That is why the ancients had banned their use eons ago.
Ra fell like a stone into his chair, his long, wavy blond hair falling around his lowered head. He waited until Raet got her sobbing under control and reached out to lay a hand on her forearm. “Tell them,” he murmured softly.
When she finished her story, not an eye in the Main House remained dry. Her descriptions were horrendously graphic and shook everyone to their very core. The mighty, gargantuan Poseidon wept like a new-born babe, his sea-bronzed skin as pale as porcelain. Many people ran from the room to find a vessel to relieve their heaving stomachs. Some did not make it that far.
“Two things must be done now,” Ra said coldly some hours later. The chamber was still busy, but the mood was muted and somber. No one went near the evening meal laid out on the long tables on one end of the room. Just the sight of it sickened most of them.
“First, we must broadcast the truth,” he continued, his voice as hard as chipped granite. “Let the People know what their Lord Father has done and tell Cronus he attacked Nillian cities, not the home of the Olympians. He now incurs the wrath of the Trinity and all of Nil. Let us see how he plans on dealing with that! Let us see how many of his own people will support him now!”
“Next, we must free Zeus from his clutches,” Ra said, running his fingers through his hair, his other hand gripping a tankard of ale as if he would crush the metal stein beneath his grasp. “Our spies say the Lord of Olympus is still trapped within Atlantis, though well-hidden. We must get him out so he can lead his people at our side. Together, we will crush Cronus once and for all.”
“We have other problems as well,” Raet told him bluntly. “You and I both know Set will use this to his advantage. He will attempt to turn all of Nil against us and seize the throne. If he returns while we are gone, he just might succeed. We need to go home.”
“We cannot,” Ra replied sourly, even though he agreed with her assessment. “To do so would give the appearance we are bowing to his will. It would only embolden Cronus and Set would say it proves we are weak. It would only strengthen both of their positions. We must trust Osiris, Isis and Astraeus can manage without us.”
“You are naïve,” Raet said bitterly, her hands clasped before her. “Set has much more support t
han you think. If the people rise up with him, the Trinity will be in an untenable position. They will have to choose between using their power against our own to maintain order or give in to the citizen’s demands.”
“I have more faith in our people than that,” Ra said, taking her trembling hand. His sky-blue eyes were as icy as a frozen lake, but his touch was tender. “I believe they will rally behind us not fight against us.”
“Perhaps,” Raet said, looking soberly into his eyes. “But the death of our own cities could just as easily shift the tide.”
“My brothers and sisters will join you no matter what,” Poseidon interjected. The giant Olympian sat on a long, brown leather sofa, his hammer-sized hands clenched tightly between his knees. His verdant eyes were like faceted emeralds beneath his crinkled fire-red brows. Within them burned a hatred stronger than anything the man had ever felt. “Only together can we defeat such a despicable creature.”
Poseidon turned his lionesque head to stare into the flames flickering in the huge, stone hearth. Within them, he saw the images of the horrendous destruction visited upon the people at the hands of Cronus and his stomach churned. Poseidon ran his fingers through his long, wavy reddish-gold hair, his full, darkly-tanned lips taunt beneath his curly beard.
“I am ashamed to wear a face so closely resembling such a monster,” he said grimly. “If I could, I would strip it from my flesh. To think he uses his fear and malice toward me and my siblings as an excuse for such demonic barbarity is beyond my comprehension.” Poseidon spit his words into the fire, seeing them sizzle in his mind’s eye. “He must be punished as no man has ever been punished for his crimes against humanity. I will see it done.”
“Yet, first we must have an adequate defense against his weapon,” Ra said, his face as darkly shadowed as his mood. “Nil is defended by a force field this device cannot penetrate, however, that field cannot be deployed elsewhere. It simply requires a power source too great to be portable. If Cronus uses the device on the battlefield, nothing can stop it.”
“Can your armor not withstand a nuclear blast?” Kiranimis asked curiously. Poseidon’s First Mate nibbled on bread and cheese, not from hunger, but to ease his unsettled stomach. “I thought it absorbed whatever energies were thrown against it.”
“Yes,” Raet said, nodding in reply. She took a long sip of her dark green tea before continuing. “But there are limits. The more power our armor assimilates, the more painful it is to our bodies. It is like being crushed beneath a ton of granite. Though I could not find any references in the Nillian archives that suggested the armor was ever used against that fiendish weapon, I can imagine trying to contain such awesome energy would turn the wearer to jelly.”
“Also,” Ra added, pondering if even he could handle such an overload, “the leftover power must go somewhere. The armor circuitry cannot hold it for long. Plus, it amplifies what it takes in. That means we would be the source of an even more powerful blast.” He shook his head, shivering at the mere sickening thought. “I would not wish to contemplate the result.”
“Then, if we cannot withstand his weapon,” Kiranimis asked glumly, “does that mean we have already lost?”
“No,” Poseidon replied, his body set like a pillar of stone. “No. There must be a way and together we will find it even if that means we have to use the Lord Father’s own weapon against him!”
The entire chamber froze at the terrifying suggestion. Ra and Raet knew they had the technology to duplicate the device, but they did not tell the others. They glanced at each other, their eyes as black as night. To commit such an abhorrent act would be to make them as evil as the monsters they thought to defeat. The ancients outlawed such weapons for a reason. Using them could destroy the entire planet.
But in the deepest recesses of his mind, Ra could not help but wonder if Cronus would leave them with any other choice.
Chapter XXI
The First Children stood in their new quarters clapping their hands gleefully. Hades and those gathered around him could not help but laugh along with them. The sight of these simple, but deformed gargantuans jumping up and down in such obvious delight touched the hearts and souls of everyone watching. The smiles upon those fifteen grotesques, misshapen faces glowed as brightly as a noonday sun and their eyes sparkled like all the stars in the heavens had found home there. Though far from younglings now, the title First Children stuck and stayed with the creatures to this day.
Getting them to the Sanctuary was a monumental task. Their entire lives had been lived in the darkest depths of the Tartarus pit, hidden away from the sight of most of humanity. None of them ever stood beneath a yellow sun nor felt a natural breeze upon their horribly twisted bodies. They had never tread upon an open meadow nor listened to the clamorous cacophony of a life-filled forest. The odors of a thriving city or the sweetest of wildflowers overwhelmed their nostrils in much the same way.
The first attempt to move them from Tartarus was an utter catastrophe. Hades brought his blindfolded wards to the surface purposefully on a cloudy, moonless night to limit the assault on their senses. It took all his powers of persuasion to get them into the lifts and still they wept in fear. If not for the unconditional love and complete trust they had in Hades, none would have stepped into those tiny square boxes. Still, many soiled themselves at the sensation of flying upward.
Hades intended to hustle them aboard a transport skyship with blackened windows and rush them across the seas to their new home. However, a sudden thunderstorm rolled over the mountaintops and blue-white lightning split the skies. The Children screamed in panic, tearing the cloth from their eyes. Six men were trampled as the terrified children fought to make their way back into the safety of the rock-walled mines.
It was the Izon who found a way to move them. A paste made of medicinal plants put the Children into a deep, dreamless slumber. Since they had grown to half again bigger than the largest Nephilim, getting their unconscious bulks aboard the ship took the tremendous effort of many. Once they were safely in the huge caverns of the Sanctuary, they were given a potion that wakened them. Enclosed in familiar walls of stone, the First Children calmed and relaxed, curious and anxious to explore their new surroundings.
“Oh, thank you, Father,” Mewler giggled, lifting Hades up and swinging him around. Only the muscles on one side of his long, egg-shaped face worked so his smile was lopsided above his sharply pointed chin, but it was still filled with warmth and joy. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“Put me down, boy!” Hades laughed, having given up telling the Children he was not their father decades ago. Though nearly ten foot tall, Hades only came to Mewler’s rounded belly when he was finally put down. His black eyes twinkled as he looked up at the eldest of the First Children. He put a gentle hand on the monster’s forearm and said, “I am happy you like your shop. If there is anything you need, just ask.”
“Oh, no,” Mewler replied, shaking his head. “I have all I could ever want and more. Thank you!”
He looked around the enormous, well-lit, high-vaulted chamber and clapped his hands. Huge monitors covered the limestone walls, mounted above long, solid oak worktables. An incredible array of instruments covered the tables and filled the racks stacked in rows on one side of the room. Tools of every conceivable shape and size from hammers and anvils to tiny, delicate micro-tools were set out in side rooms and on shelves attached to the stones. Specially designed keyboards sat before chairs created to suit the warped bodies of the Children. Even to Hades, this place was incredible.
“It is astounding,” Zeus said, his voice filled with wonder as he came up beside his brother. His golden eyes glowed warmly while listening to the Children ooh and ahh at their new toys. “I have heard of the First Children of Pettit and the horrors visited upon their bodies, but to see them with my own eyes is not at all as I supposed it would be. I am not sickened or appalled, though I do feel pity for them. I find myself feeling a strange affection and compassion for them.”
“What is also amazing are their skills and comprehension levels,” Zeus said as he watched them. “I would not believe such hands could create such delicate jewelry of unsurpassed beauty. I own many of their pieces. They cannot cook, hunt, mend clothing or survive on their own, yet they see the intricacies of sciences that are far beyond me or even Lelantos.”
Hades nodded in agreement. “What the Creator kept from them in bodily perfection, He gave them in mind. They see technologies as puzzles to be understood and put together in ways inconceivable to the rest of us. If you tell them you want something that will do this or that, they will find a way to make it happen. They absorb knowledge like a sponge soaks up water.”
“So you think they can create the weapons we need to defeat Cronus,” Zeus said, his tone darkening.
“Yes,” Hades responded harshly, ashamed at what he must ask of his wards. “They do not understand the difference between a thing of beauty and a tool of destruction. It is just another problem to be solved.”
“I am sorry, brother,” Zeus said gently, touching Hades’ shoulder. “We have been fighting the Lord Father for almost a decade. Now that he has used his abominable weapon against mankind, we have no choice. We must put a stop to this war for the sake of all humanity. I do hope you understand.”
“I do,” Hades replied sadly. He turned to leave his wards to their happiness, leading Zeus toward the dining hall. “But I do not have to like it.”
After weeks of hiding beneath the Wind Song, Themis managed to have Zeus smuggled out of Atlantis and to the Retreat. From there, he boarded a shielded skyship and made his way back to the Sanctuary. It was Cronus’ own actions that made it possible. His devastating broadcast polarized the entire world, much of it against him. Ra leaked the full, unedited holos of the nuclear devastation by one of Cronus’ own. When he showed the People images of the dead and dying and the soul-wrenching blisters, burns and agony the Atlantean weapon had caused, troops flooded into Atlantis from all corners of the globe. Cities who remained loyal to the Lord Father faltered and those who sought to maintain neutrality were appalled by his actions. Almost a third of his own legions threw down their arms and joined the resistance. The Aam searching for Zeus had all they could do to keep order in the turmoil that filled the streets of the city. Most of the protests were angry, but peaceful, though brawls did break out between different factions. In the melee that followed, Zeus was able to make his escape.