Tomb of Zeus (Atlantis)

by Christopher David Petersen

  His eyes turned dull as the last remaining life left his body.

  ----- ----- ----- -----

  “POSEIDON! POSEIDON!” yelled Tallus, as he ran toward the pyramid.

  Poseidon turned abruptly, hearing his name. He could see the frantic expression on Tallus’s face. He turned to Cephius and said in frustration, “What now? We can’t afford any more delays.”

  “Tallus is prone to exaggeration. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” Poseidon said with growing concern.

  The two stood for a moment and watched as Tallus ran to them. He came to a stop and breathed heavily, trying to catch his breath.

  Poseidon stared menacingly and said, “Well? I’m waiting. Is there a crisis or isn’t there?”

  Tallus exhaled loudly and blurted out his message: “Lord Zeus’ ship is returning.”

  As Tallus labored to breathe, Poseidon stared across the plains toward the ocean. He squinted hard and focused his vision. Suddenly, he spotted the tiny craft.

  “You are correct, Tallus. I see it,” he responded. Turning to Cephius, he said, “He’s not due back for another week. He must have forgotten something, although I can’t imagine what. I’m certain we’ve accounted for everything.”

  “I hope it’s not about the pyramid,” Cephius replied with concern.

  “Hmm, we just started pouring the gold. A change would be critical at this point,” Poseidon lamented.

  Tallus exhaled loudly, and blurted loudly once more, “One more thing Sirs. His ship is empty!”

  “EMPTY?” Cephius shouted in disbelief.

  “Are you certain of this?” Poseidon asked, now looking back out at the small spot on the ocean.

  “Yes Sir. We examined it through the sight glass. There’s no one aboard,” Tallus replied, apprehensively.

  Poseidon looked to Cephius, then back to Tallus. Shock and disbelief registered across his face.

  “My brother!” he said in worried tone.

  Instantly he sped off across the plains toward the sea, Cephius and Tallus following close behind.

  ----- ----- ----- -----

  Poseidon held the tiller of his long wooden craft as the rows of slaves powered it swiftly across the seas. As they pulled within a hundred yards of Zeus’ boat, streaks of red could be seen along the top rails indicating bloodshed.

  “No no no, this can’t be happening. Who would do such a thing?” Poseidon said in angst.

  “Maybe he’s still alive. Maybe he’s not even on the boat. He could have swam to shore somewhere,” Cephius said, in hopeful tone.

  “I fear your hypothesis may be far too optimistic,” Poseidon said, bluntly.

  As they pulled along side Zeus’ craft, all hope was lost. The sight of the carnage left little doubt of their king’s fate. Poseidon looked toward the rear of the boat and let out a guttural cry of anguish.

  “They’ve killed my brother. These savages have killed our king!” he shouted, tears streaming down his cheeks.

  He leapt from his boat to other and ran down the middle. Passing the sight of the slain humanity, he pictured in his mind the fight that must have occurred. He noticed cleanly severed limbs and decapitated heads, leaving little doubt of the savagery of the fight. As he approached Zeus, he could see he still clung to his scepter. Pride replaced grief momentarily as he realized Zeus had beaten his foes. He had died the victor, a great honor in their culture.

  He knelt down and gently pulled the scepter from Zeus’ grasp. He lifted his brother’s head and rested it in his lap. Tears streamed from his eyes and dripped onto Zeus’ face, slowly washing away some of the blood. As others looked on, he realized his audience and quickly composed himself. Forcing himself to be strong, he stroked his brother’s cheek, then stood. He raised the scepter above his head for all to see.

  “Lord Zeus is dead. I am now your King!”

  Cephius instantly knelt in the boat and bowed his head. Other’s followed his example.

  “Long live Lord Poseidon,” Cephius said aloud.

  Together, all stood at attention and chanted in unison: “Long live Lord Poseidon.”

  With Zeus’ boat in tow, Poseidon now manned his tiller and steered his craft back toward shore. Cephius stood by his side and added words of comfort.

  “He did not die in vain, my Lord. I will insure the beacon is ready by the week’s end. You will return home, just as he promised.”

  Poseidon thought about Cephius’ words. His eyes narrowed and a smile spread across his face.

  “Home, Cephius?” he said aloud. “This is home,” he said cryptically.

  “Sir? I don’t understand,” Cephius asked in puzzled tone.

  “You will continue the pyramid, but its purpose has changed.”

  “Changed? To what?” Cephius asked suspiciously.

  “It will now become my brother’s home. It will be his burial site,” he replied.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You will, Cephius. You will,” he responded cryptically.

  ----- ----- ----- -----

  Poseidon stood inside the twenty by twenty by ten foot high golden vestibule and gazed at the intricately inscribed inscriptions etched into the walls and ceiling. He nodded in satisfaction as he read through the details of his brother’s life. With the utterance of the final word, he looked toward the small opening in the ceiling. The sun’s rays shined down through it, brilliantly pinpointing a spot on the round golden altar. Deep inside the pyramid, it was a befitting eternal resting place for his brother. He nodded approvingly, then moved to the edge of the altar. He stared down at the precisely cut hole in its center. He hesitated a moment, then pulled the crystal scepter from his side sheath. Grabbing the length of the broadsword, he delicately inserted the handle into the cut hole specifically designed for that purpose. For a moment, he stood back and wondered.

  “Lord Poseidon, you’ve changed your mind. Shall I prepare the men for the beacon?” a familiar voice shouted eagerly from behind.

  Startled, Poseidon pulled the scepter from the hole and spun around. He stared at Cephius momentarily and collected his thoughts.

  “No Cephius, as I said before, there’ll be no beacon,” he responded bluntly.

  “Lord, I still don’t understand,” Cephius replied in confusion.

  “It is as I said: there’ll be no beacon.”

  “But my Lord, when your ship returns, how will you signal it? Without the beacon, they will assume you’re dead and leave without you. How will you ever return home?” Cephius asked, his mind still refusing to process Poseidon’s words.

  “I won’t. This is now my home,” Poseidon stated, resolutely.

  “Forgive me Lord, but I still don’t understand,” he pressed further.

  “Cephius, if I return to my home, I become insignificant once more, like grains of sand in the desert. Although collectively I fulfill a higher purpose, individually, my importance is practically indiscernible. But here, I live as a king: I am a God to all who know me. Never before, has my existence been so consequential. It is here that my true purpose is realized: I educate these primitive people and elevate their existence to that of human beings. And now, with the grand city of Atlantis newly built, I will finally show them the true meaning of civilization.”

  Poseidon glanced to the opening in the ceiling, then back to Cephius and continued.

  “No Cephius, it is here I will stay. It is here that I will choose my own destiny and forge the destinies of others.”

  Cephius new Poseidon’s mind was made up and dared not challenge his new king’s leadership. Such a thing was punishable by death. He nodded simply in obedience.

  “Very well, my Lord,” he responded respectfully. “What are your orders?”

  “Prepare my brother’s funeral,” he responded. Extending his hand toward the golden altar, he continued, “This will be his final resting place. It is here, that seems to be the most reverent and befitting.

  “Yes, my
Lord,” Cephius responded simply.

  ----- ----- ----- -----

  The crystal coffin was crudely fashioned, yet still exuded glory and opulence. Although the sides were left unpolished, the top lid was not. Looking down through it, Zeus’s body looked perfect and undistorted as if no lid existed at all. The weight was heavy, far exceeding the limits of the slaves that were tasked to move it. Using mechanical leverages, the crystal casket rolled along the ground, as the slaves strained to control its direction. For two days, hundreds of men labored with its weight, finally bringing it to a rest atop the golden altar.

  Poseidon monitored the event intently. With the final placement, he nodded in satisfaction and watched as the tired slaves filed out of the golden vestibule. As they left, others entered, carrying urns of exotic oils and spices. He breathed in their rich aroma and directed the men to position the urns around the base of the altar.

  Suddenly, a slave stumbled from the unwieldy weight of his large container. He fell forward, knocking into two other slaves. The three men dropped their urns, causing them to smash into pieces as they contacted the golden floor. In seconds, oils flooded the area, fanning out through the broken fragments and coating the floor with a layer of sticky filth.

  “Fools!” Poseidon shrieked in disbelief.

  Instantly, he pulled his crystal scepter, pointed it at the three frightened slaves and squeezed the handle. As energy began to generate inside the weapon, he noticed the terrified expressions on their faces. He relaxed his grip and stowed his weapon in its sheath. For a moment, he stood and scowled at the slaves.

  “Clean this mess up,” was all he could bring himself to say.

  As he stormed out of the vestibule, he glared at Cephius. Cephius stood at attention and focused on the slaves at work, avoiding eye contact with his king.

  “Thank you, my Lord,” he said as Poseidon passed by.

  Poseidon stopped, back up and stared at Cephius for a moment, reading the expression on his face.

  “For what?” he asked bluntly.

  “Your tolerance. Lord Zeus might not have spared their lives,” he responded apprehensively.

  Poseidon thought about his reply and nodded.

  “This scepter will never create loyalty, only fear. If our empire is ever to succeed, we’ll need the loyalty of the people to do so. In my kingdom, tolerance and respect will replace the threat of the crystal scepter. Years from now, I hope the scepter’s presence will be merely symbolic and that all people will live in peace and understanding, instead of fear.”

  “You are a great king, my Lord,” Cephius responded proudly.

  ----- ----- ----- -----

  Poseidon stood one last time in the golden vestibule. With Cephius at his side, he laid his hands on his brother’s crystal coffin. A tear rolled down his cheek as he realized that would be the last time he would ever see his brother again.

  He bent over to kneel and the crystal scepter momentarily impeded his movements. In frustration, he pulled it from its sheath and laid it on the floor next to him. Once again, he knelt down and paid his brother his last respects. All in observance: Cephius; lower ranking officers; and slaves alike; did the same. Each man knelt, closed his eyes and held recollections of the great king, Zeus, in his mind.

  At the edge of the great golden pyramid, a large trench was dug into the ground. It extended for a quarter mile, nearly to the edge of the nearby sea. At the very end of the deep trench, a great wall of dirt was erected inside it and formed a dam. On the opposite side of the dam was a large man-made pond fed by ocean water.

  Standing at the base of the pyramid and continuing on periodically along the length of the trench, men with tightly wrapped flags waited on the word to unfurl the signal banners.

  In the area surrounding the great pyramid and trench, thousands of people waited for Zeus’ burial to begin. Men, women and children alike, waited with great anticipation for Poseidon to appear and give the word for the ceremony to begin. Seconds later, the signalmen would unfurl their flags, alerting those at the dam to release the water. Once the flow started, the rush of water would erode the loose soil of the dam, washing it away and allowing the full force of the water to flow from the pond and through the trench. In minutes, thousands of gallons of water would rush into the pyramid, filling its lower chamber and golden vestibule, forever sealing Zeus in a watery grave, one that tomb robbers could never reach.

  Situated midway along the length of the trench, Herodus waited impatiently for his chance to participate in the great ceremony. Standing far behind him, his family watched proudly as he held the furled flag. He smiled to himself as he heard his name:

  “Herodus, we’re so proud of you,” his family shouted.

  He tried to ignore their praise as he stood at full attention. As his own pride soared, he broke momentarily from his stance, turned and smiled at his family. They cheer his name even louder.

  “Herodus, we’re so proud of you,” they shouted once more.

  He turned back and grinned again. In a mock demonstration of his role, he motioned the flag, rocking it back and forth, pretending to be signaling.

  His family and friends now cheered wildly. Herodus smiled. Once again, he rocked the flag, this time from side to side.

  Further up the line, Herodus stood at attention. Nervous excitement roiled inside him. He could barely contain his enthusiasm. Suddenly, he spotted the rocking flag pole further down the line. Without thinking, he unfurled his flag and began to wave it. Behind him, the throngs of people went wild. The sight of the waving flag and cheering crowd caused others to unfurl their own flags. Moments later, flagmen at the dam caught the signal and began to release the water. In seconds, the dam collapsed and thousands of gallons of water raced toward the pyramid.

  ----- ----- ----- -----

  Deep inside the pyramid, inside the golden vestibule, Poseidon heard the cheering crowds from above. He snapped his eyes open and lifted his head. He heard the strange roar of wind, but it was unlike any wind he’d ever heard before. Still kneeling, he turned to Cephius. Both men’s eyes registered disbelief. Seconds later, water rushed into the room in a raging torrent.

  “Fools!” Poseidon shouted.

  In seconds, the force of the water slammed into him, thrusting him against the altar, then pushing him around to the opposite side. As the water flowed in through the door, it rushed toward the far wall, impacting it violently. Having nowhere to go, it careened over on itself in a great wave, then rushed back toward the entrance. Any man still standing was quickly swept off his feet. Poseidon struggled to keep his head above the raging current as he swam with the flow of the water. In less than a minute, several men were dead, drown before they could react, and now created blunt objects that collided with those fighting to stay afloat.

  As the room continued to fill, the waterline quickly rose above the six foot high door. It would be mere seconds before it reached the ceiling, completely removing any breathable air.

  Poseidon felt a jarring blow to his side and winced in pain. With only the lighted hole in the ceiling shining the way, he spotted Cephius kicking wildly beside him, struggling to stay afloat. Poseidon reached for him, dragging him close. With his own legs powering through the water, he helped Cephius to keep his head above the roiling current.

  “Lord, we’re all going to die,” he shouted, his breathing now heavy and panicked.

  “We need to swim out of here. It’s our only chance. When the water reaches the ceiling, the flow will slow enough for us to swim out through the door. Do you understand what I’m saying?” Poseidon shouted.

  Cephius stared for a moment, then nodded reluctantly, his mind still unable to accept the reality of their situation. He continued to thrash in the water and Poseidon shouted:

  “Conserve your strength Cephius. You’ll need every bit to make it out in one breath.”

  Cephius watched Poseidon’s slow deliberate movements. He was controlling his body. Cephius realized the truth of his king’s
words. He forced his mind slower and steadied himself. With mere inches left until the water touched the ceiling, the two men cocked their heads sideways to allow their mouths to continue to breathe.

  “This is it. Take a deep breath and press your hands on the ceiling to help turn yourself upside down, then use your feet to spring off it and head for the door. Once you’re through the door, head for the light. Ready?” Poseidon shouted one last time.

  “I am, my Lord,” he shouted back, his voice filled with fear.

  Poseidon quickly turned upside down, then rested his feet on the ceiling. In one great effort, he extended his legs and exploded downward toward the doorway. Kicking wildly, he pumped his arms as he swam against the slow steady current. In seconds, he felt the edge of the doorway, then pulled himself through it.

  Looking back through dark and blurred vision, he spotted the white cotton garment worn by Cephius. As he struggled through the doorway, Poseidon reached out and grabbed the material. He pulled him through, then felt his feet touch the wall. Instantly, he pushed off with great force, pulling Cephius behind him. The two men slowed, then both began to swim. Far in the distance, they both saw the faint light of daylight. With half their energy used to escape the room, both men doubted their chances of survival.

  Kicking wildly and pumping their arms, they frantically swam toward the light. With each stroke, they felt their life sustaining energy quickly draining. Fifteen seconds later, both men’s lungs were screaming for air. Although the light was now a bright beacon, even more now than before, they knew they couldn’t make it.

  Cephius realized his efforts were useless. He began to slow his swim, resigning himself to his fate.

  Poseidon’s foot brushed against Cephius as he pulled ahead. Instantly, he knew his friend was falling behind. He reached for Cephius’ cotton top and tugged hard, pulling him alongside him, encouraging him to swim. Together, the two continued on.

  With their last exhale of breath, the two had only seconds to live. Both wanted to inhale deeply. Their lungs begged for air. They felt tightness and pain in their chest, signaling the oncoming inhale that would end their lives.