by Gene Stiles
“Sirenum would never use nuclear weapons near its own borders. Also it sets in the middle of barren wastelands. Innocent casualties would be minimal. If sacrificing my life saves countless thousands,” Raet said, her tone like sharpened steel, “it would be well worth the cost.”
“Not to me,” Ra replied harshly, his voice choked with emotion. A blurry film covered his shimmering blue eyes and his chest felt as if a mountain of rock had tumbled down upon it. “Not to me.”
Raet lay in the plush feather bed, the blanket thrown off her naked form. A heavy sheen of perspiration covered her smooth cinnamon skin and matted her long, straight raven-black hair against her soft, blushed cheeks. One curvaceous leg lay across Ra’s thighs while her fingers caressed the dusting of light blond curls covering his muscle-sculpted chest. Against the reddish tint of his skin, they sparkled like diamonds even in the dim lighting of the chamber.
They lovemaking was hot and savagely passionate tonight, unlike the warm gentleness of their usual private moments. The ecstasy they felt in each other’s embrace was mixed this time with adore and angst, love and terror. There was a deep, desperate feeling that this night could be their last together and their chaotic emotions grappled with their unbridled desires.
“You know I am right,” Raet whispered tenderly, lifting her eyes to look into Ra’s handsome, artistically rendered features. The muted lights created dark shadows across the strong, squared planes of his troubled face. She reached up and ran a finger over his terse, perfectly shaped lips. “This is the only way.”
Ra stared up at the sky-blue canopy of the four-poster bed, his gaze as stony as the smooth limestone walls surrounding them. Raet could see the tracks of tears falling from the corners of his shimmering eyes and she kissed his ruddy cheek. He absently ran his hand down the curve of her supple spine, his touch causing a shiver to cascade throughout her body.
“It does not have to be you,” Ra replied, his voice scratchy and low. “I should go instead. It is my responsibility.”
“You cannot, my love,” Raet told him. “You are the heart and soul of the Nillian people. You are the bright light that brought them from the darkness of Apophus and that leads them into a shining future. You risk enough just by stubbornly commanding this army.”
“I would not order others into peril while I sit safely upon a throne thousands of miles away,” he said harshly. “I will not send you into a danger I am not willing to face.”
“I know, dear one,” Raet responded, snuggling into his shoulder, “and you are not sending me. I am going of my own accord not only for the Nillian people but for all of humanity.”
“It does not have to be you,” Ra muttered, his eyes blurred not only by her exotic beauty but by a film of dampness.
“Who would you send then?” she countered softly. “Isis and Astraeus are needed to rule and protect our home in your absence. Your leadership is required here in our war effort. You are the bridge between the Atlanteans, Olympians and the Nillians. This is where you must remain.”
“But we have other suits of armor as yet unused,” Ra said stiffly. “I could ask for a volunteer to take your place.”
“I am that volunteer,” Raet said, stoking his trembling arm. “There is a learning curve in using our armor. You know this. There is no time to train another. I have used it in combat more than once. I know its strengths and weaknesses. Moreover, I am here.”
Raet rose up on one elbow and looked down at Ra. Her limpid hazel orbs were wet but bright. A tiny, sad smile played across her small, but full, rose-red lips. “I promise you I have no wish to die. I will do all in my power to return to you in one piece. You say you are not willing to put others in a jeopardy you would not face. Nor would I. I could not ask another to make a sacrifice I would not. Please allow me to do this,” she almost begged. “I am the best qualified and you know this. It could end this unholy war. Please let me have this honor.”
“I love you,” Ra said, stroking her cheek. “More than you could possibly know. I always have.”
“I know this also,” Raet said, her smile warm and tender. “And I you. With all my heart. That does not mean I am wrong.”
Their loving was slow and gentle this time. The world around them disappeared in a cocoon of enchantment that they both knew might never come again. For a time, the pain and suffering of the war vanished and all that was left was their bodies entwined in a magical fantasy of peace and serenity.
Titan’s Ridge ran north from the sea for hundreds of miles inland and marked the western boundary of high desert on which Sirenum lay. The arc of the snow-capped crags of the Eastern Mountains separated the barren wasteland from the city of Atlantis cradled behind them. Nemesis used these natural barriers to hide the flight of his troop transports as they swept up and behind the weapons facility. Raet stayed behind with the warbirds nestled in the desolate open plain at the base of the ridge near the ocean until his men were in place. The warbirds would slip around the coast and engage the city from the west. Then she and a small platoon of twenty soldiers would slip in from the south after the battle began. Poseidon insisted on sending along a small fleet that would feign an attack Hebis Outpost on the mouth of the Gaia River, further dividing the Atlantean’s attention.
Nemesis held no illusions he would survive this assault. Ra insisted on reiterating the dangers of a nuclear holocaust if they breached the defenses of Sirenum. His gruesomely graphic depictions of such an event was meant to dissuade them from this course of action, but they all knew how necessary this assault was to put an end to the tyranny of Cronus and the threat he posed to all the world. Raet would not be deterred.
Knowing there was a strong possibility he would not return, Nemesis made a soul-searing decision. Before they left on their crusade, he met with Ra and Poseidon in private. He spread a map of the Atlantean continent out on the oaken table in Ra’s quarters and told them his secrets.
“The Claudius River flows beneath the Western Mountains and feeds into the Gaia about fifty miles east of Lycus,” he said, tracing a line with his thick finger. “A tributary of the Claudius winds its way south through the Maraldis Forest. Most of it is hidden under a canopy of heavy foliage and is invisible from the air. It is wide and deep enough to accommodate small warships. The reason it has never been used is that the river sinks beneath the landscape in the desert north of Tharsis. It would be difficult, but not impossible to get ships to the mouth of the river.” He bit his lip, still uncomfortable telling them this. “If it could be done, no one would see it coming.”
Nemesis pushed the thick tendrils of his dark brown hair back over his broad, heavily-muscled shoulder, his ebony skin seeming even darker than normal. Gritting his teeth at his perceived betrayal, he moved his hand northeast to where the Serpent River spilled into the ocean on the eastern seaboard of Atlantis. “This river is turbulent and mainly whitewater rapids as it flows east from Pettit. However, before it becomes almost impassible from the coast, there is a branch that breaks off and drops through the cliffs north of Atlantis. It is too shallow and narrow to let a warship pass, but flat-bottomed troop transports could make it through.”
His words terse and clipped, he continued. “That would bring an army out on the other side of the Gaia almost directly across from the heart of the city.” He stared hard at Ra, a grim self-loathing in his eyes. “I give you this at my Lady’s bidding and for the sake of Atlantis and all she once stood for. I ask only one thing in return.”
“Anything,” Ra replied sincerely. He could easily read the guilt in the man’s tormented face.
“I ask that you keep your vow and return to Nil once this is over and put the city in the hands of the children of Cronus,” Nemesis said stiffly.
“You have my word,” Ra said, clasping the big man’s forearm.
“And of you,” Nemesis said, turning his attention to Poseidon, “I ask you and your kin to restore the Twelve if at all possible and give them back their rightful place as advisors to
the throne. I ask that you guide Atlantis forward with truth and justice for all peoples. Make her once again the golden city of shining light she was always meant to be.”
“This I also vow,” Poseidon promised, his green eyes glittering like chipped jade. “That is all we have ever wanted. That and peace throughout the world.”
Nemesis gripped his arm and nodded. “And tell the Lady Themis I remained loyal to her no matter what the cost.” He gazed down on the map, his inner turmoil evident in his stiffened stance. “And may the Creator forgive me for my treachery.”
The large, powerfully built man stood on the hard-packed desert floor, a hundred of his best fighters arrayed behind him in neat rows. Columns of flatbed transports flanked them, squatting silently like crouched beasts awaiting the moment when their engines were brought to life. A bright yellow sun blazed down upon them from a cloudless azure sky, bringing beads of moisture to his midnight-colored skin. His thick, twisted locks of dark brown hair were tied at the base of his almost neckless, boulder-like head and fell down to the middle of his well-muscled back. A plain, black leather band kept is out of his mahogany eyes as he scanned the barren landscape whose only features were clumps of scraggly, water-starved brush and rocky outcroppings piled in weird-shaped, haphazard heaps. His raptor-sharp eyes could just make out the ragged skyline of Sirenum through his farseers as it baked in the wavering heat waves shimmering above the desert floor.
A silent, deadly pall spread over this unholy place even though the sky was crystal clear. No songbirds sang among the leafless skeletons of tormented trees. Not even the slightest breeze dared ripple through hot, arid air. It was so still that every breath the men took seemed to reflect off the dusty dirt beneath their boots. Here and there, the skittering of small, unseen creatures could be heard, amplified by the eerie stillness like echoes of the dead.
Nemesis felt both pride and sorrow for the warriors standing with him. All had volunteered for this mission knowing it might be their last. More wanted to join their renowned, almost mythical commander, but he limited his choices to only those without families and to only one hundred. Their loyalty and bravery were without question as was their fighting prowess. That is why he was proud of them.
His sorrow came from the fact that the lucky ones would soon be nothing more than ash scattered among the lifeless patches of rocky soil. The rest would be doomed to wander the wastes, their skin blistered and burned as they vomited out their liquefied organs until their agony was relieved by a hellishly slow death if one of those hellish weapons was unleashed. Nemesis shuddered as the ghastly images of the nuclear-ravaged cities invaded his mind. He prayed to the Creator they could defeat Sirenum without setting off such horrors, but he felt in his core that was a prayer which would go unanswered.
Nemesis had no fear of death. It was a fact of war. He knew his time would come eventually. Should that specter overtake him in this battle, he would meet it with honor and acceptance. He hoped it would be a quick, clean warrior’s death, but if it was to be the putrid, grizzly end by radiation sickness, Nemesis would understand it was the Creator’s judgment for his betrayal of Atlantis.
The buzzing of a swarm of hornets cut through the sullen quietude and Nemesis gazed into the skies to the east. A fast moving flock of black dots descended upon the outskirts of Sirenum, the hum turning into a full-throated roar as the warbirds ripped into the city’s defenses. He turned to his men and shouted, “Mount up!” The battle had begun.
Raet slipped across the desert floor like an invisible wraith using the smallest rocky hillock to mask her movements. Over her Cydonian armor, she wore a tan and brown, patchwork cloak. Like the uniforms of the squad of men alongside her, the clothing was designed to blend with the bleak landscape to make their intrusion as imperceptible as possible. The broiling, scorched earth aided them, their heat signatures blurred by their surroundings and inconspicuous to the city’s scanners. That is why her band was small and scattered close by instead of moving as a solitary group.
They leapfrogged through the tiny outcropping and tumbleweeds until they were within a hundred yards of the southern gate of Sirenum. Five widely spaced mounds of rock concealed them from the guard towers on the city walls. Raet lay belly-flat, feeling the ground heat radiating into her armor. The guns on the parapets were all aimed toward the east, blasting away at the warbirds that swept the sky above them. Toward the north, the cannons fired almost constantly at the advancing lines of Nemesis’ troops. Unnoticed, the attacking forces carefully kept their assault clear of Raet’s position.
“Pitiful,” Captain Charazal muttered, shaking his oblong, pointy-chinned head. He stood on the battlements of the northern wall gazing out at the minuscule army pitted against him. To his right, the air was afire with plasma cannons, explosive missiles and iron balls. The enemy warbirds twisted like scattered seabirds, their weaponry woefully ineffective against the shields and defenses of the city. All Charazal could do was laugh at their foolish, insignificant attempts.
“The least they could do is give us an adequate fight,” the Captain said scornfully. “This is like ants on a mammoth. Ridiculous.”
“Perhaps they thought a smaller force could breach our gates where legions could not,” Lieutenant Bormanad replied, calmly assessing the invader’s odd strategy. “They are obviously using the air assault to cover their advancement.”
“Did they not realize we would see through that tactic in a heartbeat?” Charazal said with a disdainful huff. “How stupid these Olympians have become! Just because they have taken the western seaboard with the help of the traitorous Ra, they think we are weakened. Sirenum is the greatest, most protected stronghold on the Atlantean continent. We will never fall.”
As true as that might be, something about this attack bothered Bormanad. So arrogant was his Captain he failed to notice how the enemy troops stayed at the fringes of the range of the city guns. Their movements were erratic, making them harder to target. Even the warbirds sorties seemed more of a nuisance than a true bombardment. He checked again with the commanders on the other walls, ensuring himself that no larger legions were making incursions from any other direction. Even after those reports, Bormanad felt an itch creep along his spine and the hairs on the back of his neck tickled a warning to his brain.
Amid the distraction, Raet and her companions reached the city gate. The kept their backs against the sixty-foot, rough granite wall, hiding them from the palisades above. Only someone peering directly down might spot them and that was highly unlikely. Now was the most dangerous of times. In order to breach the twenty-foot high, massively thick oak gates, Raet would have to drop her cloak and step back far enough to blast the wood from its hinges. She would be vulnerable to cannonball attack for long moments. She hoped if she was seen, the defenders were ill-informed enough to turn their energy weapons upon her instead. That would only make her stronger. Nodding to her bodyguards, she took a deep breath and walked into the open. They spread out and moved with her, aiming upward. If Raet needed it, they would turn their pulse rifles on her and use their power to increase her own.
The young gate guard just happened to look over the wall at that particular moment. He was curiously surprised to see a cloaked form standing alone on the hard, dusty earth. His bewilderment turned to shocked, open-mouthed awe as the hood was tossed back and the robe fell to the ground. What stood there now was a stunningly beautiful, yet terrifying creature out of some mysterious, magical fantasy. The shape of her body left no doubt that she was female, as the sparkling metallic maroon and yellow garb she wore was molded to every sensuous curve, highlighting every sinewy muscle. It covered her from head to toe, only her bare arms left untouched. Bands of crimson edged in black and inlaid with archaic symbols encircled her biceps with matching sheaths of the same from her wrists to her elbows. Where a woman’s face should have been was the head of a fearsome ebony-headed falcon with a wicked-looking, curved, golden beak. The eyes were black-pitted, blood-red orbs ringed by a
thin circle of gold. Onyx and yellow feathers draped her flat shoulders, falling midway down her back and over the gentle rise of her chest. Resting around her savage forehead was a crown of gold centered by two upraised, outward curving horns. They held between them a pulsing globe as bright and red/yellow noonday sun. A much larger sun-orb fell from the necklace at her amber-feathered throat captured between silver horns and strapped around her ribcage. She seemed to tremble slightly and incredible glistening metal wings unfurled from her shoulder blades. They covered her back from just above her falcon face and down almost to the dry soil at her feet. Each crimson feather was trimmed in midnight black and shimmered in the desert heat.
Before the mesmerized guard could cry out in alarm, the globes on her head and chest blazed like an exploding sun, temporarily blinding the young man. His hands flew to his burning eyes in a feeble attempt to stem the intense pain. The stone beneath his feet shook and trembled, throwing him to his knees. A thunderstorm of sound erupted around him as the mighty gates exploded inward in a gale wind of splintered oak. Shards of wood blasted up and out, ripping through buildings, windows and men like a hurricane of sharpened spears. Screams of astonished agony split the blue, crystalline sky along with baffled shouts, angry orders and the pounding of booted feet.
Raet stepped through the shattered breach like a fiery phoenix of vengeance, her incandescent beams of orange and raging-red setting wooden structures aflame and reducing stone buildings to piles of rubble. For the moment, she stayed close to the wall, the angle too steep to allow the cannon above to target her. Her goal, for now, was to wreak havoc on the factories and warehouses on the complex’s parameter and to sow the seeds of chaos among the city’s Aam.