Grapeshot Pantheon

by Dragon Cobolt

  The fact that she had no other eye was also something to worry about. Instead, she just felt a mass of cloth and tissue and tape, all of it mashed up against the left side of her face.

  Liv swung her eye around and saw Liam. He was seated in a chair in the right corner of the painfully dull white room. He held a newspaper up – the headline she read was: EX-PRESIDENT STARS IN HIT NEW SHOW, LIVE FROM JAIL CELL.

  He flipped it shut along the horizontal axis, so he could look over it. He gave her his biggest shit-eating grin ever.

  “Normally, I’m the one who wakes up in the hospital with a body part missing.”

  Liv groaned and closed her eye. “How long has it been?”

  “You’ve been out three days,” Liam said. “Tethis has been screaming at the State Department to get her more power crystals, but they’re not turning on the gate until they can figure out how to keep Ares from using it. No matter how many times we’ve tried to explain that the damage is done...” He shrugged. “They won’t open it up until someone a few rungs up the ladder yells at them.”

  Liv pointed at the newspaper.

  Liam looked at it.

  “Why is she in jail?” she mumbled.

  “Huh?” Liam blinked. “Oh, no, this is about Amanda’s predecessor.”

  “Oh.” Liv closed her eyes. Kings often did far worse things to their predecessors in the Hellenic League than throw them in jail. But Amanda had always struck her as somewhat soft. “Why isn’t it about me?”

  Liam chuckled. “Because print media is dying, Liv.”

  When she opened her eyes again, Liam had turned on the TV in the corner of the room. It showed several talking heads – their words lost in the quiet hum of the lights and the distant sound of voices speaking over the PA. But the footage playing behind them was clear as day. It was Liv herself, punching Ares into a stone pillar that, now that she could get a good look at it, could have come from the Parthenon itself if it had been painted a proper color, rather than left to turn white and boring. The footage was slowed down, so that everyone could see every single blow.

  Liam looked at her. His voice was soft. “You saved a lot of lives by rushing ahead, Liv.”

  Liv smirked. “Damn straight I did.” Then, after a moment, she furrowed her brow. “Wait, I know I did the right thing. Why do you think I did the right thing?”

  Liam dragged his chair over and sat down so he could speak to Liv directly without getting between her and the TV. They were replaying an earlier scene – this was her walking through bullets as police officers scrambled back and away from her. Liv smiled to see that.

  “Because while you were out, they showed me footage from the two and a half minutes of speech Ares manages to get out as Amanda,” Liam said. “It’s all standard diplomatic boilerplate. But, well...” He pulled out his phone. He tapped at it a few times, then swung it around to show it to her. The footage was clear and crisp, and the sound only faintly tinny. It showed the false Amanda Deinhardt standing before the podium. She was smiling genially, and she started to speak.

  “Greetings, representatives of the United Nations,” she said. “I know for some time, the United States and the United Nations have been at odds. But today, I come to you to speak on a topic of great importance to our many nations. The return of the gods and the alien life of Purgatory, brought to us by a gate constructed by my government. All of us are uncertain of what this means. Of what this might lead to-”

  Liam shut the phone off. Liv blinked and shook herself as she realized…

  She had wrapped her hand around Liam’s throat.

  “Ow...” Liam whispered.

  Liv jerked her hand back, looking at her palm. The impulse had been something below conscious thought. Below the nerve endings, flickering deep within her breast. It had buzzed and crackled and hissed in her head: Kill. Murder. War. She shook her head slowly, her hand going to her face. “Whoa...”

  “Ares was going to broadcast that to the world,” Liam said, quietly. “The only thing that stopped him was you kicking down the door and setting off the Swiss counter terrorist teams. First thing they did? Lock down the building, shut down all communication and route it to their police centers.” He shook his head. “I think the only reason you didn’t come in to find a total fucking bloodbath is that most United Nations ambassadors are trained to resort to violence as a last option. Not a first.” He coughed.

  Liv shook her head. “I didn’t even feel the control.” She put her palms against her face.

  Liam nodded. “We’re studying this. Tethis is checking it over, and begging - begging - for the chance to take it back to Purgatory, so she can use the Ancients' machines to scan it.” He shook his head. “But until then, the best way to keep people safe from this is to keep Ares away from cameras.”

  Liv shook her head again. “No, there’s another way.”

  “Well, yes, I know, killing him would help,” Liam said, grinning.

  Liv smirked. “No.” She paused. “Do you know why I was so slow?”

  Liam frowned. “You...” He paused. “You punched Ares through a wall, Liv.”

  “Yeah, and you still unloaded a full magazine into his balls before I did it,” Liv said, smirking.

  Liam waved his hand, as if to say, ‘oh, it was nothing.’

  Liv punched his shoulder, then blinked as she realized her wrist was actually tied to bags of clear liquid, by lines and tubes that were sunk into her skin. She frowned, slightly, then reached to take them out. Liam put his hand on her hand, shaking his head. “Without Tethis’ magic, we should keep those in.”

  Liv frowned, but let it – and her arm – drop. “The reason why I wasn’t fast was because I have limits. I tried to make myself tough, so I got less fast. I had to make myself strong, so I got less tough.” Her hand that wasn’t connected to needles touched her cheek, gingerly. She hissed quietly. “And Ares has to work the same way. He has to.”

  Liam sighed. “I am sorry.”

  “I’m not.” Liv smirked slowly, her eye closing. “The last time, I didn’t even touch him. This time?” She held up her hand, lifting a single finger. “I took out a tooth and blacked his fucking eye.”

  Liam was silent for a few moments. She could feel him regarding her. What was he thinking? Was he proud of her? Worried about her? Liv smirked slightly at that thought. Liam Vanderbilt, the inveterate worrier. Some days, she was still shocked that he had ever managed to beat her, back when she had merely been a demigoddess. But most days, she could hardly be happier that he had. Her life was a fuck of a lot better now.

  Liam chuckled. “So, next time...”

  “Next time,” Liv purred. Her eye opened and it gleamed with eagerness. “I tear out his motherfucking throat.”

  ***

  Amanda clasped her hands before her as she looked across the table at the smiling diplomats from the Republic of India. But she wasn’t looking at them. She was looking at Lt. Colonel Kali and Colonel Ganesha. Neither of the gods looked like gods at the moment. Lt. Colonel Kali looked like most military women who Amanda had met in her time in the office. Stern faced, focused, respectful, and undiplomatic. That was why so many of them clearly radiated a faint sense of ‘I could be somewhere else, doing something better with my life.’ Ganesha, meanwhile, glowed with a kind of wise, approachable calmness. It was a balm after the past few days of meetings with the rest of NATO, Russia, China, and various unaffiliated parts of the UN.

  People needed to be reassured that she, in fact, was alive and not being replaced by a doppelganger. Amanda couldn’t blame them, even if their worries had kept her from this private face to face. Next to her sat General Sung. No one else was cleared for this level of intelligence.

  “Before we begin,” Amanda said. “I want to extend my personal gratitude. If it weren’t for the quick actions of Colonel Ganesha, Ares would have likely escaped far quicker.”

  Ganesha chuckled, his hand going to the binding that was still clear, even with his dress uniform. �
��That is quite a polite way of describing being stabbed while we get in each other's way.”

  Amanda smiled.

  “This wouldn’t have happened, ma’am, if you had been honest with us,” Kali said, frowning.

  “Lieutenant colonel,” one of the ambassadors said.

  “Quiet,” Kali snapped, lifting a hand that shimmered into existence. Her skin flashed blue and, for just a moment, an anima of raw power radiated around her body. Flickering black flames danced and flowed along her arms and her teeth seemed to sharpen as her skin darkened. Amanda knew that she was just showing her godly side to get a rise out of her. That didn’t stop her from feeling a cold swell of fear as Kali glared at her. “You kept the nature of Ares’ attacks on the United States secret. If we had known he was not only active but so...” She paused. “Unbound, then we’d have known what to expect.” She shook her head. “Instead, the first time we learn that we’re under direct threat from a god that’s slipped the chains of their dharma.”

  Amanda frowned, glancing at one of the ambassadors and General Sung. General Sung shrugged, muttering. “Don’t ask me, I’m a Baptist, Madam President.”

  One of the ambassadors sighed. “It’s a complex term, but, you can see it as fate. Cosmic order. The-”

  “It’s the chains that bind us to these forms,” Kali snarled, slamming her fist into the table as she stood. “I’m Kali because a billion Hindu believe I’m Kali. Ares should be a goat fucking savage who can’t outwit a fucking plastic bag.”

  Amanda nodded. “We’ve told you that he’s been exposed to…” She glanced down to check her notes. Just reading the words ‘power nullification collar, constructed by an alien race known as the Stakosha’ made her feel like she was in some bizarre dream. Before she could continued, Kali made a sound somewhere between a snarl, growl and a curse in Hindi, which made Ganesha cough and start to speak over her.

  “While we can agree that mistakes have been made, pointing fingers will not help right now-”

  “It’d make me feel better,” Kali muttered loudly enough to be heard over the other god.

  Amanda nodded. “We kept this information secret because we were worried that if the world knew what Ares was offering, it’d only encourage people to worship him.” She tapped the manila envelope she had brought. “This contains every piece of intelligence we have from our own services and from the Republic of Babylon, and that includes every Ares cult we have tracked in both our soil and abroad.” She sighed. “By the information provided from Babylon and her representatives, Ares has nearly completely recreated his cult on Earth in terms of size.”

  “How is that possible?” one of the younger diplomats asked. He flinched, glancing at Kali – leaving the theory that she was outranked by most of the people in the room in even more of a tatters. But Kali nodded, glaring at Amanda. She wanted an answer too.

  “Purgatory has a population exponentially smaller than Earth’s,” General Sung said, sparing Amanda from having to respond to a lower ranked diplomat speaking out of turn. “A tiny percentage of whackos here is equal to a small city state there.”

  Amanda nodded. “And now we need to work out a strategy to prevent Ares from getting on some international news network and triggering mass slaughter, or mass conversion, or mass... anything.” She tapped the envelope again. “And here, we have the possible answer. According to our unbound goddess, while an unbound god can shift their powers around, they are mostly moving powers. To become stronger in one area, they need to become weaker in another.” She smirked. “Which means that if we have gods that can respond to Ares’ moves, we can counter them.”

  Ganesha glanced at the diplomats. The oldest, most highly ranked diplomat, clasped his hands together. “I will need to confer with my government. Our deities have been a state secret since 1982, ma’am. And a cultural secret for many centuries before that. It will take more than my authority to divulge any more than you have already learned.”

  Amanda inclined her head, politely.

  As she and Sung waited for the Indian delegation to head back, Sung tapped at his PDA. He was reading reports, frowning as he did so. “Well, we’ve had no luck at tracking down Coyote,” he said. “And the DOD and DHS has no idea where to even begin to look for other native gods, and even less of an idea on how to get them on our side.” He frowned. “And if what Vanderbilt told us is true, they won’t even be much stronger than normal people.”

  “What about Wukong?” Amanda asked, rubbing her temples as she waited. A tension headache was settling in.

  “Oh, he’s already handed us a list of requests.”

  Amanda opened her eyes and caught the PDA that Sung underhanded her. She started to read. Her eyes widened. “No income tax? Does he even live in the United States?”

  “He said he would after we hire him,” Sung said, his voice dry.

  “I will not sanction giving him a harem,” Amanda said, frowning. “Uncle Sam isn’t in the sex worker business.”

  Sung coughed, adjusting his collar.

  “The CIA doesn’t count,” Amanda snarled.

  Sung, wisely, decided not to comment. “We’ve also got, oh, maybe five million people throwing on costumes, declaring themselves to be the goddess of Hick Junction, Nowheresville, or the warden protector of gangland USA.” He shook his head. “What do we even begin to do about them?”

  “We already had a problem with goddamn faith healers...” Amanda muttered.

  Their conversation lapsed. Sung glanced at the clock. His fingers tapped on his PDA, waiting for new reports, new messages. Amanda noticed, though, that her old friend’s eyes kept darting back to her, then away. Then back again. Amanda sighed. Time to cut through some more bullshit. If there was anyone she could cut through bullshit with, it had better be Sung.

  “Herbert,” Amanda said, looking right at her old friend.

  “Fine, fine, okay,” Sung said. “The pilot you pulled out of the storm? Lt. Thrasher?”

  “Her name was Thrasher?” Amanda asked, barely keeping herself from snorting.

  “Yes, she happened to tell her CO that you went off into the woods with Ambassador Vanderbilt and his wife. Then, when you came back, you, uh…” Sung waved his hand, coughing. “We told her to keep her trap shut, and if she doesn’t, we’ll hit her with every kind of insubordination charge we can fucking dream up. But...” He looked at Amanda. Amanda felt her frustration headache start to come back as she looked down at the brown and black whorls of wood grain that had been varnished and turned into a table. Her finger traced a lighter patch of brown as she considered and discarded choice words.

  She looked at Sung.

  And what popped out of her mouth was. “You’re jealous?”

  “I’m married!” Sung exclaimed.

  “I’m the politician, Herbert, I’m the one who's supposed to answer without actually answering,” Amanda said, her voice dry.

  Sung looked away. “Well?” he asked.

  “Yes. Liam Vanderbilt and I had sexual relations,” Amanda said, her voice soft. “And you know what? I liked it. I’m a woman, damn it. And if Bill Clinton, Lyndon B. Johnson and fucking Kennedy could get away with what they got away with in the White House, I think I can blow one incredibly well hung man on a deserted fucking island and not have it be the end of the fucking world!” Amanda trailed off, then flushed, hard.

  The two of them sat in silence – red-faced silence.

  Finally, Sung said: “You, uh, have been stewing about that for a while, haven’t you?”

  “Ever since I ran for Senate as a widow, people have been trying to make me either sexless or some kind of succubus!” Amanda threw up one hand. “It’s tiring.”

  “At least they’re not asking to see your birth certificate!” Sung said.

  “Not helping, Herbert.”

  The door rattled. Sung and Amanda both got their war-faces back on. When it opened, Ganesha entered. He was in his form of the elephant-headed god. It was arresting. His four arms wer
e held easily at his side and crossed over his belly. He walked forward, glowing and shimmering with his anima. Amanda felt like she wanted to ask him a million questions, all at once. Instead, she watched as he took his seat. He clasped two sets of hands together and inclined his head – his trunk curling upwards to avoid pressing to the table. His tusks glinted in the harsh white light of the meeting room.

  “I have come before you in this form,” Ganesha said, his voice musical and deep. “To reflect my true statue and position within the Republic. I am the god of new beginnings. And this is a new beginning, for all of us. This will be the form I shall wear as I greet the United Nations.” He inclined his head ever so slightly. “With you and the United States at my side. We are allies, are we not?”

  Amanda breathed slowly out. She hadn’t even realized she had been holding her breath.

  “So, you’ll share your, uh, assets with NATO?” Sung asked, leaning forward.

  “The entire extant Hindu pantheon is at the disposal of the world, until this crisis is over,” Ganesha said.

  Amanda smiled. “How many is that?”

  “Twenty one,” Ganehsa said.

  Sung whistled, slowly. But Amanda’s brow furrowed.

  “Wait,” she said. “I’m, uh, no expert, but isn’t Hinduism a religion with millions of gods?” She smiled. “I wasn’t exactly expecting thirty three million, but twenty one is a bit, ah, low.”

  Ganesha smiled, sadly. “Humans tell many stories. But reality must always bow, first, to what is there. Since the discovery of DNA, the Indian government has researched us. They determined the number of humans born with the genetic quirk to make a true god are rare. In this modern age, the actual number that are worshiped enough to create them are smaller still.” He held up one of his four arms. “We have always been aware of dharma. Of our chained nature, tied to a cosmic order that cannot be changed. It is why we stepped away from the forefront of the world after the gods of Europe were banished. It is why we remained in hiding after India was made, first, a colony and then a fractured, independent republic. It was one of our own sayings that brought us from the shadows.”