Vili listened as an aircraft approached the cliffs and landed somewhere near him. Wait…
* * *
Atlas flew toward the Krysuvikurberg Cliffs. He fumed over his recent defeat at the hands of the Lessers and questioned the philosophical shift in Olympia’s perspective over the value of various life forms.
He spotted the Linter the female Aesir escaped in and saw no effort was taken to hide it. They want a fight? Good. Your surprises won’t help you this time. Your ultimately failed attempt to commandeer Earth will be used as an example as to why your entire race needs to be exterminated.
Atlas flew over the area once to make sure he wasn’t flying into a trap, then proceeded to land a couple hundred strides away from the stationary vessel. He looked down at his duffle bag. I’ll fire a few shots with the rifle in case anyone is still in the ship, but then I’m pursuing on foot.
He pulled his sniper rifle out of the bag and left his ship. He used his scope to get a closer view of the Linter, but didn’t see anyone behind the cockpit glass. He fired off a few shots anyway, finding it was difficult to aim in the howling wind. Even Olympians struggled to fire their sniper rifles from the standing position: the gun was heavy and the kickback was intense. The added wind would have made it nearly impossible for anyone weaker than Atlas.
He missed his first two shots, but made the proper adjustments. Once the bullets began hitting the ship, they effortlessly shattered the glass and frayed the inside of the cockpit. No sign of life. Enough of this long-range crap.
Atlas locked the sniper rifle in his ship, grabbed his mace and shield, and took off in a dead sprint toward the abandoned Linter.
* * *
Vili heard gun shots shortly after the Olympian landed. Sniper rifle. Shit. He looked down at his left arm, brandishing his currently retracted shield. I’ll be able to block a few shots if it comes to it, but that’s it.
At that moment he heard Sigyn’s ship spring to life. Without thinking, he jumped out of the crevice and onto the cliff side. He raced toward the commotion. His long blonde dreadlocks and loose hair chaotically bounced in the air against the howling winds. Vili’s eyes darted quickly to find his target.
He saw Sigyn’s ship flying diagonally away from him on his left. Atlas was moving backward toward Vili’s position, with his small, circular shield up to block the ship’s exhaust. Without hesitating, Vili picked up speed and whipped his hammer at the back of Atlas’ head.
Atlas shifted the moment before impact, as if he felt the hammer coming. Mjolnir caught him on the shoulder, causing him to duck, roll, and spring up looking for his attacker. He glanced up in time to see Vili, who had leapt into the air and called Mjolnir back to him, coming down to land a blow on Atlas’ skull. Vili’s hand crackled with sparks of lightening as he cut the connection to his hammer once he regained control of it.
Atlas raised his shield and, in one smooth motion, blocked Vili’s blow. He used his shield to push the hammer down and to his left. At the same time, his right hand swung his mace sideways at Vili. By that point, Vili’s long rectangular shield had sprung to life and met Atlas’ swing with a crack that momentarily overpowered the howling wind.
Vili took another swing at Atlas’ head, but was blocked again; Mjolnir’s tiny spikes leaving dents in the small, circular buckler. He leapt back to reset, but Atlas stayed on top of him. Instead of attacking with his mace, Atlas used his raw might to ram his shield into Vili’s shoulder. Before he made contact, Vili pivoted and met the blow with his own rectangular protection. His was able to dodge physical contact with Atlas’ attack, but still lost his balance. With separation created and Vili without proper footing, Atlas swung his hand to send a powerful gravitational wave.
Vili was a split second too late in his reaction. He tried to dodge it, but his shield caught part of the blow and he was spun backward, falling to his knee in the process.
Atlas smiled and stood tall as Vili recovered his footing. “Vili! I thought the fiercest warrior among the Aesir could slay a company of Olympians! The mighty hero who stood as a wall between his people and their oppressors!” Atlas mocked. “Perhaps you’re merely toying with me? The great Aesirian can’t possibly be beaten this easily. Or am I mistaking you for Odin?”
“Atlas, the traitor who died ignobly and alone after the Olympus Council discovered your betrayal…or so we’ve all been told. You’ve been hiding on Earth all this time? Waiting to plot your next act of treason?”
Vili’s comment clearly caught Atlas off-guard; his menacing condescension was replaced with rage and confusion. “You lie!” he screamed as he barreled down on Vili.
Vili blocked the blows, but felt the increased strength from Atlas’ mace as it slowly began to deform his shield. Atlas always seemed violently histrionic. Vili used Atlas’ rage against him by quickly retracting his shield—though not all the way due to its sustained damaged—and jumped back, causing Atlas to momentarily lose balance as his swing swept through the air, unimpeded.
Vili took this opportunity to come down fiercely on Atlas’ right forearm—the arm wielding the mace. Vili’s body was steeped in the winds. Whether the old stories were myths or literal was irrelevant; Vili felt as if he was absorbing the strength needed to injure Atlas from the souls of the departed. The bond he felt to his ancestors convinced him his bloodline was prodding him to accept their combined might and focus their collective rage into his strikes.
Atlas’ armor took some of the blow, but the spiked hammer tore through spaces in the carbon fabric and the impulse of the hit was too much for the protection to fully absorb. His right forearm cracked under the weight of Vili’s might.
Atlas threw his left shoulder and shield into Vili. He swiped back across his body with this left arm, sending a blunt, but powerful, gravitational wave. Vili was thrown back multiple meters from both blows, but remained on his feet; Atlas took a few steps backward, clearly biding time to allow his arm to mend.
Vili was about to rush him, but he saw Atlas drop his mace and unholster a pistol. Vili immediately sprung open his shield, whipped his hammer at Atlas, and grabbed his own pistol from his hip.
The maneuver caught Atlas off-guard and Mjolnir struck him on his right shoulder, turning him in the process. He used the extra momentum to his advantage and quickly spun 360 degrees to face Vili, both now firing their pistols at each other. Dodging, rolling, and firing, a few hits landed on each man, but none above the chest.
During the fray, the distance between the two closed. Atlas threw another gravitational wave at Vili. Vili dodged the blast, but it bought Atlas the time to holster his gun and grab the ax from his belt.
He lunged at Vili, swinging his hatchet high at his head. The blow was narrowly blocked, but Vili was left in a slightly crouched position with his shield above his head. Vili raised his gun to shoot at Atlas’ torso, but Atlas used his shield to knock the gun out of Vili’s hand.
He then hooked his ax on Vili’s shield and pulled it away from Vili’s body, exposing him completely. Vili called his hammer back to him while Atlas reached out to grab him by his collar. While being pulled toward Atlas, Vili reached up to grab his collar back, inadvertently cutting the electrical charge in his palm.
Suddenly, a crack rang through the skies as a bolt of lightning formed between Vili’s right hand and Mjolnir. The blast caused a wave of heat to momentarily smother his hand and wrist. Light produced by the discharge swallowed Vili’s vision, leaving him blinking to reacclimate as the flash dispersed. Blinded, Vili waited for a death blow from the enraged Olympian.
The blow never came. As Vili’s eyesight normalized he found himself staring down at Atlas’ mutilated body. The plasma had blown a hole through Atlas’ chest. A thick smell of ozone and ionized iron filled the air as a deluge of blood, flesh, and bone poured out of the gapping cavity. Atlas mouthed a few words, but with no air in his lungs he could not make a sound. Whether Atlas tried to offer a prayer, curse, or apology, Vili did not know.
&
nbsp; That was…lucky. He looked at his right hand; the carbon alloy around the fingers and lower forearm were slightly deformed. The blast of plasma momentarily melted the alloy, allowing the material to slightly shift its position before hardening again.
A small warping of his artificial appendage was second on his mind, though. Atlas was dead. A quick death was more than the vile beast deserved, but Vili was satisfied with the outcome of the fight nonetheless. He breathed in deeply, savoring the glorious stench of Atlas’ inanimate husk. Vili closed his eyes and stretched his flexed arms. He yelled into the wind, allowing it to consume him. Revenge!
He summoned his hammer, but to no avail. His eyes opened, the unexpected inability to connect with his weapon jolted him out of his reverie. Did the blast short-circuit my hand? I need to ask Sigyn; hopefully, she can fix it. Sigyn…I need to call her.
Before Vili could contact Sigyn and leave Iceland, he needed to first do something with Atlas’ body. I can’t leave it here to be found, but I also don’t want to take it with me. And, traitor and murderer though he was, Atlas died a warrior and deserves better than to be left for carrion. He looked over at the cliff. The sea won’t take him—his body will just beat against the rocks. He then looked at Atlas’ ship. I’ll just send him into space. I don’t exactly want to leave his ship out here, anyway.
Vili loaded what was left of Atlas into his Linter and set it on autopilot. The ship flew out over ocean and into the atmosphere. This ship may not have enough power to escape Earth’s gravitational field, but if nothing else it will crash far out at sea.
Vili watched as the craft ascended from the cliffs and moved rapidly toward the upper atmosphere. It appeared as though it may actually escape Earth, but it suddenly blew apart. Pieces of the Linter mixed with Atlas’ remains rained over the ocean. Did Skadi’s forces destroy it that quickly? And so close to Earth? That can’t be right…unless Olympians have sent reinforcements to this system. That would mean Skadi engaged the defense protocol to buy us time…I need to contact Sigyn immediately.
Act III, Chapter 5
Ambush
Location: Kuiper Belt
Zetes had proved a quick study. He rapidly digested the results of the experiment on Earth while reading through Dionysus’ notes and listening to him lecture. The notes were written and presented in a way that made intuitive sense to Zetes. Dionysus thinks like I do. Maybe that’s why he has taken an interest in me—not merely because of my piloting skills. His incredulous and disapproving attitude upon first discovering the Council’s plot had transformed into beaming pride, to be expected from a star pupil.
After two and half hours of studying, Zetes felt he had a solid understanding of how to exploit humans, but still lacked a deep understanding of why it was necessary.
“Dionysus, this all makes sense. Humans are clearly prone to manipulation and your writings elucidate methods to achieve those outcomes, but I’m still not clear on the strategic advantage of this information.”
“And you don’t need to understand the strategic advantage—you just need to be familiar enough with my notes to explain them to others,” Dionysus responded. “But, hopefully, you’ll never have to. How close are we to the Kuiper Belt?”
“Twenty minutes.”
“When we get there we’ll need to bounce to two other locations within the system, and then prepare to ambush the enemy when they arrive.”
Zetes felt an immediate wave of unease. “We aren’t going to jump too close to the sun, are we? I don’t think this vessel, though impressive, has enough power in the drives to fully contend with the warping from a star.”
“Of course not.”
* * *
Njord, second in command to Skadi and captain of his own Storskip, had been on high alert since Skadi broke radio silence during her conflict with the ship leaving earth. The dogfight above Earth’s atmosphere was an indication Olympians were present in the system and may have already sent for reinforcements. He scratched at his red stubble as he surveyed his HARPE instruments. Nothing unusual…yet.
He sent out multiple probes to surround the system and monitor for gravitational wave signatures indicative of superluminal travel. Whenever a ship bent space to travel faster than light, it not only left a ripple in its wake, but released a snap upon deceleration that sent an eminently recognizable gravitational wave through the space-time fabric.
If any of Njord’s probes picked up a significant disturbance they would immediately transmit the findings back to his Storskip. The report would include a density map outlining the likely location of where the incoming vessel broke from superluminal velocity, or the ship’s direction of travel if the probe merely picked up its gravitational wake.
At that point, Njord would move additional probes out to the vicinity reported and collect more detailed findings on the ship and its location. Once determined, he could formulate a plan of attack.
“Captain! Probe enroute. Data is being transmitted now. It looks like a mid-sized vessel—roughly half the size of a Storskip—dropped into this system,” Njord’s communication’s officer declared.
Njord walked to the comm to address the ship. “Unknown vessel detected in the Kuiper Belt. We need to be combat ready.” Njord turned to the communications officer. “Send three probes to surround the most likely area of deceleration.”
“Right away, sir.”
A mid-sized ship…likely a scout or a research vessel. Hermes Couriers are too small and aren’t scheduled to make runs out here.
“Captain! Another probe enroute. It appears another vessel jumped to an estimated location of ten million kilometers from the first deceleration area.”
“Put the gravitational maps up on the main screen,” Njord responded. “And transmit this information to Admiral Skadi.”
The front of the cockpits in Storskips contained a 20-by-20-meter window that could act as both a viewport and screen. Immediately following Njord’s command, the middle third of the window became opaque and displayed heat maps showing likely paths of the ship—or multiple ships—that entered the system.
Along the right column, additional information was displayed regarding the vessel—or combination of vessels—that fit the gravitational signature with varying probabilities. Njord used his hands and voice to interact with the screen and sift through the information. The two deceleration signals are too similar for coincidence. Any captain worthy of their station can see right through this trick—there is only one ship, not two in the system. Oddly, the panel displaying the likely ship that could produce these signatures was uncharacteristically uncertain. 53 percent is the highest estimate our system can give?
“Commander! A third probe is enroute—your feed will be updated as information is received,” the communications officer said.
Three jumps? Is a single scout trying to fool us into thinking a fleet has arrived?
The screen updated to show the last jump took the ship back to the original deceleration location.
It’s definitely a scout of some kind, but which ship specifically? The best estimate is…a 37 percent match to a ship over 500 years old? This has to be a secret Olympian vessel or…
Njord turned to his team of commanders and advisors that had all entered the cockpit upon hearing his initial announcement. “What’s the likelihood another Primordial race would be in this sector?”
The room was silent for a moment, and then his technological commander spoke up. “Extremely unlikely, sir. It’s too late for any rational being to believe there is any valuable research left on Earth.” He was followed up by one of Njord’s advisors, “And there isn’t tactical value to taking this sector if another Primordial race was planning to invade Olympia.”
Njord shook his head and thought. “Okay. Then we need to be prepared to face an Olympian ship we’ve never seen before—not merely an upgrade to an existing ship, but possibly a new category altogether.”
The room became dangerously still—as if the air molecules froze
and prohibited any movement from the Aesir. Njord’s and Skadi’s teams had spent years training against every known tactic and ship Olympia could field, but the presence of a ship so obviously different from all others meant tactics could have shifted over the past 100 years.
“We can stay defensive and use the automated Nemesis fighters to gauge this new vessel’s capabilities.” Njord saw the nervousness spreading between his team. “But it may just be a more advanced scout ship for all we know. While we may need to improvise, it’s unlikely there have been any radical changes in tactics or technology since we left for this mission nearly a century ago,” Njord said, trying to breathe some comfort into the room.
Njord turned to his pilot. “Let’s jump to a spot one million kilometers outside the original deceleration zone and get a look at this ship. Inform the crew we plan on leaving in ten minutes.” He then turned to the communications officer, “And you: send a scout to Valhalla to inform Ve of our situation. We may not get another chance.”
* * *
Zetes had just finished making the two jumps to the locations provided by Dionysus. “What now?”
“We need to release what scientists have called ‘anti-matter landmines.’”
“We have anti-matter on this ship!” Zetes exclaimed as he stood up and threw his hands in the air.
“Yes. Enough to destroy this ship if the anti-matter were concentrated, but it’s spread out in small amounts across different turrets. These anti-matter landmines only start to cause real damage if they make direct contact with the hull of a vessel.”
Zetes reluctantly sat back down. “What do you mean? And, even with all this secrecy, some details about a ship must be shared with the pilot.”
The Gods Who Chose Us Page 31