The Gods Who Chose Us

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The Gods Who Chose Us Page 11

by Michael J Roy


  “Well, at least we’ll quickly find out if we need to head back into town,” Sigyn said, hoping to forestall Loki’s characteristic snide comment about the airstrip, without success.

  “Marvelous. I’m sure driving out to this airstrip, being rejected by the only pilot here, and then heading back into town is definitely going to be faster than what I had in mind.”

  Sigyn didn’t respond. Ass.

  As Loki drove them closer, Sigyn noticed three other cars parked on the opposite side of the building.

  “Stay in the car. We shouldn’t approach these pilots if they’re connected to the men we stole our vehicle from.” Loki instructed.

  “And how will you determine that?”

  Loki was already out of the vehicle and blending in with the environment. “Facial markings. Shouldn’t you be the one connecting these dots?”

  Sigyn remained silent and glowered in his direction. Her mind immediately recalled the matching facial designs the guards at the compound shared.

  She waited a few minutes for Loki to return. She strained unsuccessfully to identify his location; Loki’s camouflage was shockingly effective. The command over his metachrosis was intricate enough to mask his own footsteps in grass as he walked. Mixed with his eidetic memory and charm, it really is impossible to know his true intentions.

  His sudden materialization startled Sigyn.

  “We’re good. Nothing suspicious. If necessary, we can take them.”

  Sigyn handed him his armor through the open vehicle frame and waited while he hid his off-putting tights. When he finished, Sigyn trailed him as they approached the uninspiring building. Loki swung open the door and Sigyn peered over his shoulder. She saw a single, large room filled with smoke. Eight men sat around a table in the middle, playing a game of some sort. They were all smoking, drinking, and armed.

  Most of the men didn’t look up from the table. The few that did cocked their eyebrows and looked at each other. If these men are any representation of the local population then I’m sure we don’t look like we belong.

  “What do you want?” One of the men asked, barely interested. He didn’t take is eyes off the game.

  Sigyn immediately recognized the language as one of the five they had learned before arriving on Earth. Before she could respond, Loki took a step forward. “We’d like a ride to the Nazca lines. We’ve heard they’re breathtaking.”

  More of the men now took notice of the Aesir standing by the door. They seemed surprised by Loki’s reply in perfect Spanish.

  “How are you paying?”

  “Gold.”

  Now all of the men looked up from their game. Some looked confused and others were smirking. One of the men stood up and moved within an arm’s length of Loki. He was thin, but muscular and a little less than two meters tall—just below Loki’s eye level. He had the look of a pilot: black boots, loose, pocketed pants, and a brown leather jacket.

  “If you’ve brought real gold—enough real gold—then one of us will take you. If not, you’re going to regret wasting our time.” Five of the eight men now had their hands touching their firearms.

  “I assure you, it’s real—take a look,” Loki said as he handed the man a single gold coin. He spared a quick glance towards the men sitting around the table. “And I recommend that the rest of you gentlemen behave yourselves, my companion and I are not without our own defenses. There’s no need to ruin your game.” Sigyn tried to look grim and nodded, backing Loki’s play. She kept both her hands on the duffle bag hanging off her shoulder, which contained her hidden weapon.

  The man inspected the coin for discoloration, bit it, checked it again, and handed it back. “Real fucking gold,” the man said with a smile that, ironically enough, featured a tooth as gold as the coin he had held in his hand. “And don’t you worry about the boys none, they’ll behave. Anyone walking around here with gold is either stupid or can handle themselves. And I’ve been around long enough to know a soldier when I see one. The lady’s a bit harder to read, but I’m betting she ain’t just a pretty little thing either. I’m Basilio. If you want to get to Nazca anytime soon I’m your best bet—them other idiots are too drunk to pilot anything. This is only my second hand, I’m dead sober.”

  One of the men started to get up to protest, but immediately lost balance and used the table to stay upright. The rest of the men laughed as he blushed and sat back down, the air of violence immediately drained from the room.

  “We’d like to leave as soon as possible,” Sigyn said, deciding to join the conversation.

  “Okay. These coins are what…a quarter ounce each? I’ll do it for eight of ‘em.”

  “That—” Sigyn started, but Loki cut her off “—is too high. We’ll offer four.” Sigyn eyes widened with confusion and anger. What is he doing? We have no idea how much gold is worth to these men—we’re lucky enough our intel was right that it’s still a universal form of currency on Earth. We need to leave, now!

  “Seven coins.”

  “Six and you throw in a bottle of whatever you’re drinking,” Loki replied.

  “Deal. Take my bottle—Like I said, I’ve only had a few drinks.”

  Loki accepted the offer and took a big swig. Visibly relaxing as he did so. “Delicious. What is it?”

  Basilio laughed. “Glad you like it. It’s the cheapest Singani I could find.”

  Sigyn was losing her patience. “Now that we found the least drunk pilot here can we get going?”

  Basilio made eye contact with her for the first time and nodded his head toward the door. “Yeah, come on. I should be able to get you there within a few hours.”

  As they approached the plane, Sigyn looked over at Loki with a smile. “You’re right—this plan was much faster.” Loki’s eyes narrowed as he produced a shallow smirk, and then took another swig.

  * * *

  There wasn’t much to do on the flight. All three donned headsets that would allow communication between them inside the noisy propeller plane, but guaranteed all would be included in any conversation that was had. Sigyn knew she couldn’t say much to Loki in front of Basilio, so she tried to distract herself. Loki appeared to be doing the same. Still drinking, he pried Basilio for information about human culture. Sigyn tried to ignore their conversation, but it was proving difficult.

  “And why wouldn’t you vote for Eduardo for president?” Loki asked.

  “Eduardo—you serious? The man’s insane!”

  “Yeah, but why do you think he’s crazy?”

  “He’s corrupt to the bone! The guy’s only running to protect his business. He couldn’t care less about people like me.”

  “Right. What makes you say that?”

  “Did you see his interview last week? He denied all the allegations in a very aggressive way—he’s clearly guilty!”

  “…What?”

  Sigyn took off her headphones and allowed the rhythmic sounds of the plane to guide her into meditation.

  She focused on her new tracking ability, regretting that, due to mission preparation requirements, she was only able to test out her augmentations a few times and at the maximum possible distance. Sigyn wanted more familiarity with the encoded feelings the Mimir Interpreters were feeding her. Slowly at first, she started to feel the presence of the Olympians in space-time. What started as a soft intuition calcified into knowledge during meditation. It’s like “knowing” when I’m being watched or someone is sneaking up behind me. It was an exercise in truly trusting her gut.

  In reality, the Mimir Interpreters were measuring tiny ripples the Olympians generated as they moved through the ocean of space-time and communicating with her through already existing cognitive means.

  This was Sigyn’s first real taste of the sensation on the mission—her anxiety during the assault at the Chronos Passage drowned the sensations she now felt. This feels…good. Easy. Not nearly as vague as I feared. For how powerful the Olympians are they have too many weaknesses—arrogance? False sense of security? Cou
ld they even handle a war with the Aesir? Was war really necessary?

  …

  Sigyn lifted herself out of meditation a few minutes before the Nazca lines were in view. She slid the communication headset back over her ears.

  “Yeah! My wife, Sig, also never shuts up about me drinking too much,” Loki said to Basilio, clearly having too much fun. “Oh, hey Sig, you’re awake.” Loki took another swig of a much lighter bottle.

  “Yeah. Have you had enough Singani?”

  Loki and Basilio looked at each other and burst out laughing.

  Well, it looks like Loki learned something about human behavior.

  “Hey both, we’re approaching the site now. You’ll want to look over the right for the best view,” Basilio said over the flight intercom.

  “Wow! Sig, look at how amazing these lines are…big lines drawn in the dirt.”

  “Beautiful!” Sig said as the Mimir Interpreters were tracking the Olympians. We need to head northwest. “What other ancient sites around here? Can we just keep flying and site seeing?”

  “Bored already? Not surprised. Most passengers tend to be underwhelmed. We can head up the coast. There are a few ancient sites ‘round there, but we’ll need to land the plane and walk to ‘em…and I’m going to need a few more coins.”

  This time, Sigyn beat Loki to the punch. “You got it! Let’s go.”

  As they flew up the coast Sigyn’s gut was throbbing with intensity. She could sense the path the Olympians took as easily as she could sense hunger.

  * * *

  “That’s odd,” Basilio said, more to himself than his passengers. “Looks like there’s a plane crash up ahead. A severe one. I should radio the nearest tower.”

  Loki looked at Sigyn, his eyes and tilted head hinting at a question.

  Sigyn shrugged. She wasn’t sure if the plane crash involved an Olympian. She’d need to be over the site—or at least much closer—to have a better sense.

  “Weird. Radio control says that there weren’t any bodies in the wreck. Some local folk found two trails of footprints leading to the ocean. They also said that there was some break-in or terrorist attack at an ancient site nearby.”

  Sigyn gazed at Loki in terror. There are two of them! Is that why I could track them so easily?

  Loki turned back to Basilio. “Where’s the site that was attacked?”

  “Bandurria, about five kilometers north.”

  “Great. Let’s head there.”

  “You’re really looking to get into some shit, aren’t you? I knew there was more to you two than met the eye. Well, you don’t gotta worry, I’m not one to pry…at least, not, when you’re paying in gold.”

  * * *

  A knot formed in Sigyn’s stomach as Basilio flew them closer to Bandurria. Her legs were bouncing without conscious instruction from her mind, a natural way to release the buildup of tension in her limbs. Breathe slowly. The Olympians aren’t at the site. You’re just tracking traces of their presence.

  Basilio landed the plane on a flat, abandoned strip of dirt a couple of kilometers from the ancient ruins. Sigyn walked in silence as the three approached a growing crowd.

  “There’s a lot more people here than I would have guessed. And the news cameras? But I bet you guys are gonna wanna avoid those.”

  The three approached the rear of the crowd that surrounded the pulverized site. Basilio struck up a conversation with some locals. He spoke with them for a few minutes and then rejoined Sigyn and Loki.

  “Turns out folks are on edge from something that happened earlier. I guess there was some alien hoax—some message on the radio. After, this site was destroyed. Ha, dumb coincidence.”

  Sigyn and Loki weren’t surprised; they knew Vili would have sent the message by now. “Very dumb,” Loki replied.

  Basilio surveyed the scene one more time. “Hey guys. This has been fun and all, but we really should be heading back before it gets dark. Take a look around or, you know, do whatever it is you gotta do fast, and let’s go. We have a long flight.”

  Sigyn spoke up first. “Thanks Basilio, but we plan on sticking around here for a while. Loki, can you pay the man?” Loki, visually taken aback by the order, moved to hand over the gold coins he owed.

  Basilio hesitated. “How will you get back? Didn’t you leave your jeep at the airport?”

  “That old heap of junk?” Loki replied. “You can keep it—it’s on its last legs. I’d be surprised if it started up again.

  “We don’t plan on going back to Bolivia. We’ll find an inn around here or sleep under the stars. How would that sound, honey? We haven’t camped in a while.”

  Sigyn smiled and nodded in agreement. “That would be nice.”

  A quick look of confusion crossed Basilio’s face, but it melted into a knowing smile that once again revealed his golden tooth. He slowly reached out to snatch up the coins from Loki’s still outstretched hand. “Okay …good luck with all that. If you guys survive whatever it is you’re into, look me up again if you need a flight anywhere. Especially if you’ve got more of that gold.” Basilio gave them a nod and then walked back toward his plane.

  Loki turned to Sigyn. “I like him. Can you sense what happened here?”

  Sigyn closed her eyes. Something doesn’t feel right. “The feeling I had that led us here is…different from what I sense now. The underlying presence of the Olympians is still here, but the signal is more muddied than I was expecting…” What’s going on? The feeling was clearer when we were multiple kilometers away. Maybe the Mimir Interpreters are already malfunctioning?

  Loki scanned the ruins. “Okay. Well, it’s pretty obvious they entered the facility, so we should do the same.”

  “I’m not sure we should. We are here to track Olympians—not explore. I think we should walk around a bit to determine if I can pick up a trail leaving the site.”

  “Give me an hour. Take that time to look for a trail and I’ll take that time to explore. We can agree on a place to meet.”

  “Okay…meet you back here in an hour.” Loki rarely compromises, and never so quickly.

  Act I, Chapter 13

  Descendant

  Location: Longyearbyen, Norway

  Time was running out before the Svalinn shield’s “reversal” and Vili still hadn’t seen any humans with odd heat signatures. I may need to try a different town…maybe I’ll get to Iceland early. The local broadcast was still on in the background.

  “Remember the destruction of the ancient Peruvian site we reported on yesterday? Well it turns out a group of American millionaires are petitioning the Peruvian government to fund an excavation of the site. Prominent conspiracy theorists and well-respected scientists met to discuss the excavation plans. The scientists are hoping the ancient site can be opened so they can set up an archaeological dig…”

  That didn’t take long. If humans can deliberate, organize, and act this quickly over some ancient ruins then a year should be plenty of time to prepare them for war…if we get that much time. We may only get a fraction of that time if Olympia acts swiftly once they learn of our actions. We must be ready as soon as possible. Vili thought of the last piece of technology he had brought on the mission, currently secured on the cloaked Hod ship he stole from the Chronos Passage: a Hephaestus box.

  It was an Olympian invention that was originally used in construction, but had been slowly adapted by weapons manufactures. The white box was a simple rectangle: 60 centimeters long with a cross-section of 25-by-15-centimeters. It had the ability to run an internal simulation consistent with all known laws of the universe, based on the publicly available scientific information produced by the Olympians and Aesir. Furthermore, it contained a catalogue of objects the user uploaded. Information about the objects could vary, but Vili’s box had information regarding weapons and vehicles. The information supplied to the box had to be extremely detailed to allow the Hephaestus tool to function.

  A user fed the tool information about their available raw materi
als and the desired object they wanted to produce. Information about raw materials could be supplied via programming or by placing soil in the box and allowing it to scan the surrounding area—the latter tended to be tedious and take much longer.

  The box would then provide a nesting tree of instructions on how to build the object desired, given the available resources. If additional tools were needed—say, a facility to generate anti-matter—then the Hephaestus output would include instructions on building that as well. Solutions weren’t guaranteed given the raw materials, but in such a case the output would suggest similar objects that could be built.

  Comprehending the output of a Hephaestus box required a non-trivial amount of scientific knowledge. Thank the ancestors we have Sigyn. Under her guidance, this machine will lift humans to a nearly Aesirian level, whether they’re ready for that or not.

  Vili’s hope was to generate variety among the military on Earth. Olympians are a stubborn and ancient, homogeneous race—they can’t handle variety…which is why the Anunnaki are considered so dangerous. Humans already had natural variety and the Aesirians were hoping to amplify that in a way to strike at Olympia. Between the Descendants and the Hephaestus box, I should be able to build a formidable force on Earth…not that I have another option though. My brothers will put their plans into motion as soon as they’ve received my message. Without a competent and allied force on Earth, they’ll surely fail.

  Don’t focus on failure. We’ve been through worse, and still prevailed. Vili recalled the role he and his brothers played in the Aesir’s initial revolt against Olympia; a victory that is still celebrated by his people to this day. A millennium prior, the Aesir were fighting against extinction as opposed to sovereignty. Their life on Asgard, as subjects in gruesome Olympian experimentation, was a living nightmare. They lived through a period of constant conflict, suffering, and death, the details of which Vili never dwelt on. Maintaining a sane mind required him to keep the horrific images of his past locked away, but building a hopeful one required the sustenance of prior triumphs.

 

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