Colony- Olympian

by Gene Stiles

  The smooth rock corridors were jammed with bustling people who made way for lines of transport and freight sleds that moved slowly down the center of the broad underground passages. Every chamber Zeus passed was packed with throngs of people engaged in frenzied activity. As busy as they were, the mood was somber and quiet, the conversations muted and mumbled. The crystal lighting strips glowed as brightly as a noonday sun and the hearths he saw were ablaze with fires, the smoke drawn away through the over-worked ventilation systems.

  “Creator!” Zeus exclaimed, shaking his head as he watched the controlled chaos. “I have never seen so many people in the Sanctuary before!”

  “You have Cronus to thank for that,” Hades said harshly, stepping aside to allow a high-piled supply sled to wind its way through the masses. “People are pouring into every complex we have. They are terrified.”

  One look at the drawn and weary faces around him and Zeus could see what Hades meant. Be they Izon, Nephilim or of the People, they shambled more than walked, their heads down and their eyes sunken and haunted. The gaiety and hopefulness that characterized the Olympian people seemed ripped from their souls by remembered images of the Lord Father’s atrocities.

  Lelantos joined the brothers for the evening meal. His gold-flecked, hazel eyes were dark and somber, his mane of auburn hair tied in a long braid down his muscular back. His stance was stiff without the easy gracefulness he usually had. No matter what Zeus said, he still could not forgive himself for the tortures his friend had endured.

  “Ra has given us access to the Nillian archives,” Lelantos said, seating himself heavily in a chair at the large round table. He poured strong red wine into his goblet and accepted a platter of roasted potatoes, braised venison and steamed vegetables, staring at it as if it were to be assaulted instead of enjoyed. “Between their sciences and our own, I pray we find a way to combat the Lord Father’s weapon.”

  “Of this, I have no doubt,” Zeus said, attempting to alleviate some of his friend’s worry. “You and your teams are the finest scientists we have. With the addition of Ra’s people and the incredible First Children, I am sure you will succeed. I have complete faith in you.”

  “How could you? I allowed you to be captured,” Lelantos said, stabbing his potatoes as if they were his worst enemies.

  “I keep telling you that was no one’s fault,” Zeus replied firmly. He put a hand on Lelantos’ wrist and stared sternly into his face. “The fighting was fierce. We got separated and I managed to get myself pushed into an alley out of your sight. These things happen in war. You did nothing wrong.”

  “Then why do I feel so guilty?” Lelantos countered gruffly, still not meeting Zeus’ gaze. “I am sorry for the pain you endured. I should have protected you better or, at the very least, gotten you out sooner. Please forgive me.”

  “Forgiveness is not necessary,” Zeus said, sighing heavily, “but if that is what you need, you have it. Always. That and my sincere thanks for saving so many of our people. You did well. Now,” Zeus continued, taking a long sip of his wine, “bring me up to date on the situation outside.”

  Lelantos nodded, barely moved by the kind words. He chewed his food without tasting it, eating only to maintain his strength and not for pleasure. Between bites, he told Zeus what he knew.

  “At the moment,” he said, “things are relatively quiet. Cronus has put down the unrest in Atlantis. Sadly, though sickened by the results, many of the people still side with him, believing the destruction of Nillian cities was just. They say Ra invaded their lands first and the use of the weapon was necessary to show the Trinity they are not all-powerful. Even after it was learned his intended target was us, it made no difference. We, too, are the enemy of Atlantis.”

  “It amazes me how easily people forget it was Cronus who viciously attacked us repeatedly and who set up clandestine fortresses on Nillian lands,” Zeus said, shaking his head. The huge dining hall was overflowing with tired-looking people nibbling at their food. Even the children were oddly hushed and still. Zeus waved his hand over them. “These people do not.”

  “Those things happened a world away and did not affect the daily lives of the Atlanteans,” Hades commented, his irritation showing in the crinkles between his bushy, black brows. “Bringing war to their shores does.”

  “Is this a boy’s club or may I join you?” Hera asked, pulling out a chair, not waiting for an answer. She looked haggard and tired, her thin pink lips tight on her sharp, angular, oval face. “The Sanctuary is a hornet’s nest of activity. It is nice to take a moment to relax.”

  She thanked the server who brought her a platter and a pitcher of hot tea then looked to Zeus. “It is good to see you again, brother.”

  “And you as well,” he replied warmly, a small smile showing beneath his wavy, fire-red beard. “It has been a while. How are my sisters?”

  “Busy,” Hera replied, spreading a white linen napkin on her lap and pouring a cup of the steaming green tea. “People of all the races of humanity are swarming into our warrens. Demeter is coordinating with all the farms to stock our larders to the brim. Hestia trains with the Daughters of Haleah and the Aam and provides escort to our supply caravans. I have been working with Hades’ quartermasters stocking clothing, beddings and other sundries. With so many new arrivals pouring in daily, the tasks are daunting.”

  “That is another result of Cronus’ actions,” Hades said somberly. His ebony eyes glittered in the light. “Fear. Cities are aligning themselves with Atlantis not because they believe in him, but because they are frightened he will use his weapon against them if they do not. The Retreat and our Sanctuaries are being overwhelmed with refugees. New underground complexes are being built not only by us but by other cities throughout the globe. People are scared and rightfully so. No one knows what Cronus will do next.”

  “So far, I have heard no reports of him using the weapon elsewhere or since,” Zeus said, understanding completely. His nightmares were still filled with blistered bodies and the agony of those continuing to die horrible deaths. “Perhaps Cronus, himself, is afraid to use it again.”

  “That is a foolish thought, brother,” Hera said bitterly. She sat down her fork and stared hard into Zeus’ eyes. “You know as well as we do he is a madman. He has proven it time and again. Cronus will use it again the moment he feels threatened enough.”

  “That is why it is so important we find a way to counter it,” Lelantos said, pushing his unfinished plate away and rising from his chair. The severity of his stance and the grimness of his features was a mirror of their own turbulent emotions. “Please excuse me. I must get back to work.” He looked at Zeus and his face darkened. “I will not fail you again.”

  Zeus stood on a high bluff near the top of the Sanctuary. From here he could look down upon the turquoise waters of the Sea of Sorrows and see the sparkling of white-capped waves glistening in the distance. A strong salty breeze blew up and across the sun-heated, craggy cliffs and ruffled his golden-red hair. An ugly patch of scorched earth spread as far as the eye could see across the once pristine landscape on the other side of the bay.

  Tears of grief and heartbreak filled Zeus’ golden eyes as he looked upon that blackened blot where Olympia once rose gloriously into the sunlit sky. No one realized the depth of the guilt he felt. He cursed the moment of his birth and the ancient prophesy that drove his father to such madness. Perhaps if Rhea had allowed him to be murdered in his crib Cronus would have left the world at peace. If she had not informed the Lord Father of his last son’s existence in a moment of bitter fury, maybe countless lives would have been saved. Morpheus might still be alive and Haleah would not now be the reclusive, old, dying shell of the magnificent woman she once was. Cronus would not have hunted him and is siblings across the globe, killing uncountable thousands of innocents in his quest to free himself from some predicted doom. For the millionth time, Zeus wished he had never been born.

  “The past cannot be changed,” Hera said tenderly, sensin
g his mood if not his thoughts. She wrapped his arm in hers and leaned against his muscled shoulder to give him comfort. “We can only learn from it and do what we can to improve the future.”

  “I would turn myself over to Cronus if it would mean ending this war,” Zeus said softly, his words almost lost in the wind.

  “Do you honestly think it would?” she asked gently. Her dark green eyes were filled with compassion and reason as she looked up into his troubled face. “He is warped by greed, hatred and his own malicious demons. Cronus would hunt the rest of us as he has always done. Even if we were gone from this earth, he would battle Ra for the power and technology the Nil possess. There will always be an enemy for him to fight even if that enemy is his own twisted soul.”

  “I know,” Zeus replied with a heavy sigh. “Still, there was a time when he was a good man. Could it be that I, too, will succumb to the insanity that plagues my bloodline? Will I follow in his footsteps as he did his father’s?”

  “No,” Hera said firmly. “You seek only peace, not power. You do not share his bigotry and loathing toward those not deemed pure Atlantean. You believe in truth, justice and the inclusion of all humanity. You have no fear of those different from yourself and welcome their uniqueness. You accept people for who they are and do not attempt to mold them into your own narrow-minded image. More importantly, you do not unleash hell upon all living things and the very soil beneath your feet to attain your goals.”

  “But was there not a time when the Lord Father felt much the same?” Zeus replied despondently. “Did he not sacrifice everything for the survival of the People? What am I to do should I be called upon to do the same?”

  “You will do what is right for all mankind, not what is right for only your own lineage,” Hera said assuredly. “Of this, there is no doubt, my brother. Plus, you have your sisters and brothers at your side. We will keep you on the path toward peace.”

  “Promise me something,” Zeus said, looking deeply into her emerald eyes.

  “Anything.”

  “Promise me that should I slip into madness you will take my life before I, too, become such a monster,” he said, his words choked with passion.

  Hera was stunned by his request. She saw the torment is his darkened features and realized for the first time how horribly worried he was. Hera knew by the look in his cloudy eyes that nothing she could say would ease his troubled mind or assure him such a thing would not happen. Biting her lower lip, she did the only thing she could think of.

  “I promise,” she said simply, raising a hand and touching his sunken cheek. “By the Creator, I promise.”

  In the months that followed, the invasion of Atlantis stalled. Despite constant ultimatums from Cronus, Ra stayed in Daedalia, consolidating his control of the southwestern cities. Almost all of them willingly sided with him from the beginning. The majority of the mines on the Atlantean continent were within their borders and decades of forced labor and impossible quotas for their ores had soured them against the Twelve. Tharsis and Biblis both suffered greatly when Cronus destroyed their pits during the miner’s uprising. They hated him ever since, but until now did not have the power to oppose him. With Ra protecting them on land and Poseidon’s fleet roaming the seas, they could finally fight back.

  No matter their status when war reached their shores or how much they once loved the Lord Father, the Atlanteans were, for the most part, good, caring, moral people. Seeing the gruesome, barbaric destruction of Novalosha, they could no longer support the evil that sat upon their throne. Cronus had already proven he would kill his own people. How long before he decided to use his hellish weapon on those he deemed his enemy on his own shores? He must be stopped before he laid waste to everything they held dear.

  “The Aropian Veldt is heavily fortified,” Commander Nemesis said, pointing to a line across the headwaters of the Twin Rivers. The burly, mahogany-eyed man ran a fingertip along the map, his ebon face as hard as polished onyx. “Wards block entrance to the plains and over twenty thousand soldiers patrol the edges of the woodlands. I see no way to pass them without massive loss of life.”

  Themis secretly sent her most feared warrior and his two hundred legendary fighters to aid Poseidon and the Olympians. She and her sister could not act directly against Cronus, but neither could they stand aside. Themis had tolerated much from her brother, but her life was bound by law and justice. His use of nuclear power against innocent civilians crossed a line she could not sanction. No matter what vindication Cronus used, the horrors he visited upon humanity could not be justified. It was time to put an end to his rule.

  At first, Nemesis resisted his Lady’s request that he join the revolution. His first duty was to Themis and he feared his leaving in these times of turmoil would put her in emanate danger. Enforcing the laws of Atlantis was his second duty. Anyone who broke them was subject to his righteous wrath. How could he keep his strict code while helping foreign invaders?

  Nemesis knew Ra well when they served together in the Aam. He respected the man he had known as Captain Ramathus, but he no longer accepted him as Atlantean. Ra was Nillian, thus had no rights within the empire. Nemesis was not here to support him. He was here to back the children of the Lord Father – true Atlantean scions. If Ra had not vowed to return to Nil once Cronus was unseated, Nemesis would not be standing at his side, no matter the entreaties of Themis. He had that choice. She would never order him to go against his beliefs.

  “Lycus and Hebis remain unassailable by sea,” Poseidon said grimly. The sight of the gargantuan across the table from him eased the burden Nemesis felt. His face was a mirror image of the Lord Father and his rightful lineage to the Atlantean throne could not be denied. “The majority of Cronus’ armadas blocks those ports. Even with new ships arriving from Prubrazia almost weekly, we do not yet have the strength to defeat them and protect what we have at the same time.”

  “Cronus will not allow this stalemate to continue much longer,” Ra said, searching the maps for a way into Atlantis. His long, sea-blue robe swished along the floor as he walked stiffly around the table. “If we could take Sirenum, we would cut off his weapons supplies, but the mountain range to the east blocks passage of ground troops. The cliffs on that coast are too high and rugged to attack from the sea and we have already failed at aerial assaults.”

  Nemesis knew Atlantis better than anyone in the war room of Daedalia. He spent his entire life crisscrossing the continent enforcing the laws of the land. His brilliant tactical mind had assessed the weaknesses of the city long ago, yet, even now he was loath to share his knowledge with them. He felt it would be a betrayal of all he held dear. However, this is exactly why the Lady Themis had sent him here. Nemesis struggled with his decision as the others continued to discuss their options.

  “As long as Cronus continues to manufacture nuclear weapons, the world is not safe,” Raet said, her over-large, dark, almond-shaped eyes narrowed as she gazed around her. She took a deep breath and her spine stiffened. “I see only one way to end that treat.”

  “How?” Ra did not like the set of her stance. It told him she had come to a dangerous conclusion, one he had also reached and quickly discarded.

  “Sirenum must be destroyed,” she said firmly, her arms crossed over her ample chest. “I can do it.”

  “Absolutely not!” Ra responded hotly. “It would be suicide!”

  “What do you mean?” Poseidon asked, sensing the rising discord between the two Nillians.

  “What she means,” Ra snarled in reply, his bright blue eyes blazing as he stared angrily at Raet, “is she wants to pit her armor against the battlements of Sirenum. It is beyond foolhardy! It is most likely lethal to her!”

  “Is that even possible?” Nemesis asked, not understanding Ra’s reticence. “If your armor can withstand whatever energies are thrown against it, why would it be so dangerous to make the attempt?”

  “Even our technology has its limits,” Ra snapped back, still not taking his eyes off Raet. “S
irenum not only has energy weapons. They have cannons, railguns and Creator knows what else. The armor takes a toll on the wearer. She would be battered into pulp by the kinetic impact of so many iron balls against her force field. Worst of all is the possibility of a nuclear strike on her. It is highly doubtful she could survive it.”

  “But it is theoretically possible,” Raet countered, her mind already made up. Her full, red lips were drawn tightly across her oval jaw as she spoke. Her wiry, well-muscled body vibrated as she faced off against the man she loved. “If I can end this impasse and rid the world of such a heinous weapon it would be well worth the risk.”

  “She would not go alone,” Nemesis said, stunned by her incredible courage. He studied a close-up image of the city and the surrounding desert. “If we make an air assault to divert their attention, my men and I could attack from the north while Raet and a small party come in from the south. It might be possible to breach their defenses and destroy them.”

  “What you do not understand,” Ra said, furious at Raet for even bringing this up, “is that we have already discussed this strategy and cast it aside. True, our armor absorbs energy, but it also amplifies it. If they use nuclear weapons against her or if those within the facility are set off by the attack, their power would increase ten-fold. Nothing and no one within a hundred miles would survive. Even the land would be poisoned for decades. You and your men would be naught but dust and so would she. It would make what Cronus did in Novalosha seem like a mere pinprick.”