Colony - Seeds of War (Colony - The Saga of Earth's First Civilizaton Book 4)

by Gene Stiles

  “Then Loki you shall be from now on!” Hyperion stood up and clapped his hands, his golden smile shining like the morning sun. The tight, oiled, black curls on his bouncing as he nodded.

  “Happy tenth birthday to you, Loki,” Rhea said, standing next to Hyperion and clapping along with him.

  “Yes, happy birthday, Loki,” Keramec beamed, joining in on the clapping.

  Loki turned as red as a freshly picked tomato, laughing loudly. He managed a covert glance toward Amelia, seeing the edges of her lips turned upward in a vicious, animalistic grin. He saw the icy fire in her eyes and knew what was coming.

  ‘This will bad,’ Loki thought as he hugged his friends tightly before they left. ‘Very, very bad.’

  Haleah never knew such happiness could possibly exist. Her heart felt so large that it threatened to burst through the confines of her light green, fall-leaf-patterned shift, belted to her narrow waist by a sash of forest colored cloth. Her golden blond hair lay curled behind her on the large red blanket where she lay resting on her elbows, her strong, shapely legs stretched out before her. The warm breeze blowing across the vibrant colors of the flower-covered meadow rippled through her hair and across the wide, glowing smile gracing her ample, ruby red lips. Her sky-blue eyes shined as bright as the noontime sun beaming down on the plains and hills of Home.

  Peals of laughter and girlish giggles rolled over Haleah in sweet waves from the tall yellow grasses just a little downhill from where she sat, swelling her full, rounded chest with complete and utter joy. Morpheus tumbled in the flattened grass, dropping to his hands and knees, his black leather breeches and vest were stained with green stripes from rolling in the meadow. His bare, hard muscled arms glistened with sweat, but his incredibly handsome, square-jawed face simply radiated with jubilation. His long, ebony hair fell over his broad shoulder, banded at the nape of his neck and at the bottom with strips of leather.

  Eight tiny tornadoes of cloth and hair, arms and legs jumped on Morpheus’ back and shoulders, grabbing him by the legs and arms, pulling on his hair and toppling him over on the ground. They wrapped themselves around his arms and legs, pinning him to the grass and tickled him until he bellowed out, “I give up! I give up!” Tears of joy ran down his gleaming cheeks. He pulled himself to his feet, small hands clinging to his neck and shoulders and sitting on his black-boot feet, arms clutched around his thick calves. He picked up the two youngest ones in his bulging arms, feeling another two straddling his broad shoulders on either side of his shining face, their hands around his corded neck.

  “It is difficult to walk this way,” he laughed, taking slow, high, exaggerated steps toward the blanket, dragging the two holding onto his feet through the grass. His little girls giggled in childish delight as he carried them toward their mother.

  Adrasteia and Ida ran past him, throwing themselves playfully on the huge Izon blanket next to Haleah. The first-born twins asked for a picnic and party to celebrate their tenth birthday so, of course, their parents happily granted their wish. The girls dressed identically in pants of ocean-blue tinted, cotton cloth imported from Nil and sky-blue, billow-sleeved blouses V-cut around their slender necks, overlaid by black leather vests. Each of them had the same oval face as their mother, smooth, rounded jaws and full dark pink lips. They were tall and thin, but with curves that spoke of trouble for Morpheus when they matured. The similarities ended there.

  Adrasteia stood just an inch taller than her sister, but lorded it over Ida as if it was a foot. Curls of midnight black cascaded down to the middle of her back, held from her pretty face by a band of crimson leather. Her onyx eyes, so much like her father’s, blazed with intelligence and strength. She was a little warrior and took to martial arts as if it was for this very reason she was born.

  Ida took Adrasteria’s teasing light-heartedly, never taking it to heart. Her long, wavy, honey-gold hair flowed down to her tiny waist, held in a tight braid by strips of midnight-blue leather. Her glistening blue eyes, flecked with chips of jade, shone with warmth and compassion. A fire burned inside of her to learn about everything around her and to help those in need.

  “Mother! Mother,” Adrasteia laughed, kneeling next to Haleah and brushing blades of grass from her stained clothes, “did you see us? We ganged up on Father and won!”

  “Yes, I did,” Haleah grinned, brushing errant black curls from her daughter’s sweat-glistened face. “You definitely wore him out, for sure. You are so tough, my little warrior!”

  “I got him, too,” Ida giggled, straddling Haleah’s outstretched legs. “I tickled him till he could not stand. Papa is so funny. He was crying and everything.”

  “You got him good, sweetheart. I saw that.” Haleah tussled her golden hair, her smile spreading across her lovely face. “Come now, my daughters, and help me lay out our lunch. Your father and sisters are almost here.”

  Haleah rose from the ground, gazing down on the two newest additions to their growing family. The tiny twin girls lay in a bed of soft feather blankets in a slatted wood bassinet that rested on the small Proto-sled Morpheus created for them. The identical little bundles, swaddled in thin pink cloth, curled close together beneath the sun hood over their bed, wisps of blond curls covering their small, round heads. Their dark blue eyes were squinted tightly, their pouty lips making small sucking sounds as they slept. Haleah took a moment to study them, her face illuminated with the love shining inside her heart, softly caressing each pinkish forehead before returning to the long table topped with baskets of fresh bread, sliced meats and cheese, fresh fruit and sweet treats.

  “And how are our babies?” Morpheus beamed, shaking off his daughters as a wolf would shake rain from its fur. The girls laughed and giggled as they ran toward their mother, tumbling across the blanket in their haste.

  “Helena and Valkyrie sleep well at the moment,” Haleah smiled, greeting him with a warm kiss and a tight embrace. “Let us hope they will stay that way for a while.”

  Morpheus swept blades of grass and weeds from his leathers. He untied the strips holding his ebony hair, shook his lion-like head and ran an oval bristled brush through his unfettered mane. He pulled Haleah close to his side, draping a burly arm over her soft shoulder. Watching their brood of girls laying out plates, utensils and cloth napkins, he felt as if his broad chest would burst with pride. Never had Morpheus dreamed that such incredible bliss would fill his life. Each day, his wonderment at the world around him was renewed watching his children marvel at the mysteries of life, at the first feel of the sharpness of grass between their little toes, at the songs of colorful birds flitting is the branches of tall trees and the feel of worms crawling across their smooth skin. They had the boundless curiosity of the young, fascinated by the multitude of insects chirping on the ground and flying through the air. Butterflies and bugs, rainbows and snow, waterfalls and flowers they saw with astonishment and joy. All the firsts of childhood as they explored the world around them he saw through their gleeful eyes, refreshing his view of life. Morpheus found himself amazed at their thoughts on life and their never-ending questions. He dropped to his knees every night, thanking the Creator for the blessed gift of his girls.

  “You have nothing but daughters, my love,” Haleah said, breaking him from his reverie. She gazed up at him, her blue eyes shimmering with the question that often plagued her. “Are you unhappy that you have no sons?”

  “Oh, my wife,” Morpheus laughed, his quiet, serene voice enshrouding her in a cocoon of warmth, “you ask me this with each new birth.” He kissed her upraised cheeks and brushed golden locks from her face. “How many times must I assure you I am joyous with our daughters? It matters not if they are not boys. I could never love them - nor you - more. I remember you told me Keepers only had one girl in their entire lifetime. Now you have ten of them. Are you miserable that we have so many?”

  “Oh, Creator, no,” Haleah laughed, shaking her head. “I have more than I ever dreamed possible, though I do admit they are exhausting at tim
es.”

  “Tell me about it,” Morpheus grinned, taking her by the hand and leading her to the table. “I just tussled with eight of them. Small as they are, they surely can wear me out. Now I am famished. Let us make the little monsters serve us for a change.”

  “Come on, mommy,” Chalandra and Celessa chimed as one, their voices like the tinkling of hanging crystals in a light breeze. “We are all starving!”

  The eight-year-old girls were their second set of twins, as alike as two blades of grass. Their waist-length, tarnished-gold hair flowed down their stocky, shapely bodies like a waterfall over a cliff. Their vibrant green eyes sparkled like emeralds in the sunshine, their ample lips as red as the petals of a rose. They were tall for their age, almost as tall as their older siblings. They spoke together, often finishing each other’s sentences and thoughts, dressed alike and went everywhere together as if they were attached at the hip. They drove their parents crazy pretending to be the other twin, exchanging names and giggling hilariously when no one could tell the difference.

  Morpheus took his place on one end of the table, Haleah sitting at the other. After Ida led them in a prayer of thanks to the Creator, their lunch was passed around the table. A delighted babble filled the air, carried on the warm autumn breeze. Stories of treasures found and new things discovered floated around the table accompanied by the sweet, intoxicating giggles of childish laughter. Haleah blissfully gazed around the table, her heart pounding with ecstatic elation. The joyful smile permanently spread across her stunningly beautiful face scanned the cheerful, glowing faces of her daughters chattering merrily amongst themselves, finally coming to rest on the ebon eyes of her beloved. Their eyes locked and the brilliance of their smiles caused the golden orb above them to hang its head in shame and seek sanctuary behind a passing cloud.

  The day was perfect.

  The Main House of Home bulged with the bodies of children running around and through the legs of laughing adults. With great difficulty, the young ones were shooed and herded outside into the wood-fenced yard. Colored light-crystals, looped from poles set at the corners of the area, glistened like stars in the night and lent a happy, jubilant feel to the atmosphere. A blazing fire crackled and popped in the big pit surrounded by a low wall of stone centered in the open space, a few of the People and the Izon stationed nearby to keep little ones from getting too close to the flame. Tables lined three sides of the fences, filled with succulent smells of tender meats, seasoned vegetables, a variety of breads and sweet cakes and fruit-filled pastries. The Clan and the People brought their best dishes in goodhearted competition for the most favored foods.

  The Fall Festival marked the end of the harvest and the short time of rest before the coldness of winter settled on the plains. Friends, families and the community shared gifts of artistic carvings, useful tools, toys, clothing and blankets. The children celebrated birthdays with games, presents and laughter. Adults sampled the newest wines and ales, sharing exaggerated stories of hunts, fishes and romantic conquests with mirth and merriment. Music filled the warm night air, rolling across the yellowing grasslands and echoing among the northern mountains.

  Morpheus sat in the corner of a long, thickly-padded, brown leather couch along one wall of the Main House, his long legs languidly stretched out under the small square table in front of him. He dressed in his normal black leather vest, breeches and calf-high boots. His only concession to the gaiety of the night was a bright red, billow-sleeved blouse affixed tightly at the wrist. One of his corded arms lay along the back of the couch, the other curled around Haleah’s soft shoulders, holding her close to his side. His wavy, midnight hair haloed his sharp-edged, handsome features like the mane of a lion.

  He only half listened to the boisterous, mirthful conversations bubbling in the air from his companions at the table. His mind centered on the incredible woman nestled next to him, her hand unconsciously rubbing circles upon his thigh. His ebony eyes memorized the every curve of her oval face, tanned, smooth skin, twinkling blue eyes, straight, narrow nose and full, sensuous lips. His gaze trailed down the white gown she wore, infused with strands of gold and silver with bands of red and gold brocade around the wrists, hem and the deep V around her slender neck. It clung to her full, shapely body like a second skin, highlighting every curve with a lover’s touch. Her tinkling laughter, still so innocent and sweet, swept over his ears like crystal wind chimes in a summer breeze. Still the warrior, strong, lithe and deadly, Haleah basked in the role of loving mother and passionate lover. Morpheus was in awe of her.

  Was it even possible to contain such a fountain of love within his heart? Sometimes it threatened to overwhelm him, stopping the breath in his lungs with stunning glory, exploding behind his eyes in sparkles of splendid colors, bathing his mind in the heat of the sun. At times, he lost himself in daydreams of her smile and the wealth of children she brought to fill his world.

  “Morpheus!” Captain Lianas chided, punching him solidly on the shoulder. “Quit thinking of how the night might end and come back to the rest of us!” His deep, barrel-chested, roar flooded the room, turning many a head in their direction, causing Morpheus to blush a bright crimson.

  “Now, Lianas,” Haleah mischievously replied, her sky-blue eyes sparkling, slapping him on his broad, over-muscled chest, “how could he help it? Just look at me.”

  “I see your point,” the Captain chuckled, playfully staring lecherously at her abundant curves.

  “Look too closely and you may lose an eye,” Morpheus growled, his black eyes shining. “Or other important body parts.”

  “Forgive me, Haleah,” Lianas sighed, shaking his head in mock dismay. “This villain of yours interrupts my objective appraisal of your many attributes.” His long, twisted tresses of curly black hair bounced around his boulder-shaped head like a nest of vipers as he spoke, his ebony skin glistening with a light sheen of moisture in the large light-crystal hanging over the table.

  “You are forgiven,” Haleah laughed lightly. She took hold of his rounded chin, bringing his grinning face close to her and kissed him softly on his rough, bristled cheek.

  “Thank you, my dear. You are always a lady. Now,” the Captain said, becoming a little more serious as he returned to his previous conversation, “Morpheus, what do you think about the news from our Atlantean spies? The Nillian uridium has finally been processed into enough fuel to power all of the technology of Atlantis, including their weapons. Should we be concerned?”

  “I think not.” Morpheus shook his head nonchalantly, his wavy, midnight hair fanning out like a dark halo around his head. “We have remained undetected and unmolested for over a decade. The river has no outlet to the western sea so Atlantean traffic is limited to the occasional fisherman. The camouflage gates we installed across the inlet hide us from casual scrutiny. There is no reason to think they will find us now, let alone invade us.”

  “Maybe from the air,” a new voice interjected. Captain Thalassa stood before the table. Her crimson leather vest and breeches hugged every curve of her sensuous body from her ample chest to her narrow waist and down to her well-muscled legs. She wore a simple white, billow-sleeved blouse with a wide-lapelled collar open just to the V of her cleavage, calf-high black boots completing her stunning outfit. Her blond, sun-streaked hair fell to her perfect hips in the tight braid she always wore, banded around her forehead with a wide crimson strip of worked leather. Gorgeous even by Atlantean standards, it was impossible for either man or woman not to take notice.

  “May we join you?” Her Izon First Mate, Shuk, stood always at her side. Only half as tall as the Captain, Shuk looked like a walking pillar of granite. His broad, heavily muscled chest curved down to an almost non-existent waist and stanchion-like legs. His wild brown hair flared around his rock-like head like the corona of the sun. Dark mahogany eyes peered out from beneath his thick brow ridge, nearly invisible against his deep bronze skin. His tan leather attire and black boots seemed terribly drab compared to his Captain.r />
  “But of course,” Haleah smiled, waving them to join her. “It will be nice to have another woman here. These brutes are fighting over me. It is difficult to keep them apart.”

  “Well, you know how men are,” Thalassa sighed, her brilliant blue eyes sparkling, her full, ruby lips quirked in a slight grin. She pulled a chair to the table and seated herself with the grace of a feline. “Disgusting animals. All of them.”

  “Well, excuse me,” Lianas huffed, puffing out his chest. “And here I thought you loved me!”

  “Oh, but I do,” Thalassa smiled, standing enough to lean over and peck his forehead. “But you are still a man.”

  “What did you mean ‘from the air’?” Morpheus asked, resting his elbows on the table. His playful demeanor changed like the wind into Aam alert.

  “That is what I came to tell you,” Thalassa said grimly. “My intelligence informs me Cronus is building sky ships. There is a new factory just outside of Atlantis created for just for this purpose.”

  “This could be extremely dangerous for all of us,” Shuk rumbled, the sense of foreboding written in the deep furrows cutting into his forehead and the pinch of his thick, dark lips. “Especially if he is still hunting the Izon.”

  An ominous dark cloud fell like a heavy curtain upon the table, driving away all notion of good humor and feelings of festivity from the gathered friends. A sick, ghastly apprehension settled like a thick, black fog all around them, seeping into their souls and chilling them to the very bone. Sky ships. What would Cronus do with them?

  Chapter XVI

  The first sky ship to roll out of the massive factory doors glimmered beneath the golden rays of the late morning sun. The sleek silver body reflected the light into a brilliant bluish white halo cocooning the body from the needle-sharp, wedge-shaped front end tapered back into thin, wide backswept wings, down the circular fuselage to the high, pointed tail with smaller wings jutting out from its base. Three retractable legs tipped with small silver wheels held the ship six foot off the hard sand of the desert floor fifty miles east of Atlantis. Near the bow, a transparent oblong blister opened up revealing the pilot’s cockpit, the dash covered with colored lights, a glowing monitor and the buttoned shaft of the flight controller. Mounted beneath each wing was the rounded shaft of a small, but deadly plasma cannon.