“No can do, you’re stuck with the gristle forever now.” Prometheus said, cue bluster.
***
This all pissed Zeus off so he stole fire from the mortals so they wouldn’t be able to cook the meat anyway. No one ever called Zeus petty.
“Why the fuck did you have to go and do that?” Zeus asked. He was bloody furious.
“Do what?” Prometheus asked. He was prone to nonchalance.
“Give the sodding mortals fire again.” Zeus was getting even angrier as he knew that Prometheus was just playing silly beggars with him now.
“Oh that. Well they won’t ever develop civilisations if they don’t have combustion now will they?”
“They don’t need civilisations. They’re only stupid humans. They’re never going to amount to much.”
“Well being as I invented mankind, I get to make that call. Everything’s fine, go back to chasing after nymphs or something.” Prometheus had barely looked up from his book during any of this discourse.
“No, it’s not bloody fine.” Zeus literally stormed out. As god of thunder and king of the skies he nailed it. “That’s it. I’ve fucking had it this time. Hera where the fuck is my fucking eagle?”
***
So Zeus had Prometheus chained to a rock and he charged his pet eagle the task of pecking out Prometheus’s liver every day for it to grow back every night. It wasn’t for some time that good ol’ Hercules slayed the eagle and set Prometheus free. Zeus had felt that he’d done his time and he was beginning to really enjoy the mortals (their women). Prometheus and Zeus were basically Olympus’s version of Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor: forever sniping but they loved each other really and kept going back for a little bit more each time.
Showering
Liberty returned to the Hackney house. She went into the kitchen and rifled through the draw labelled ‘anti-depressants’ and took a fistful or so of Xanax, well at least enough to make an unhappy person resemble a happyish person for a month, and swallowed them all. She had picked up her post on her way in and sat at the table to read her correspondence. The vase had been placed in the middle of the table whilst the poor ‘historical’ tome was left on the stairs for Honour to inevitably pick up. Amongst the letters were the usual junk, a marriage proposal from a cyclops and another from a troll, a few invitations that she’d probably have to accept and to her horror another sonnet from Apollo. She had started keeping a box of his poetry under her bed (precisely underneath her pillow) just in case she ever needed them i.e. avoiding being turned into a tree.
From her room Honour had heard the door go and had picked up her laptop before going to fetch Bea. On their arrival in the kitchen they found Liberty propped up on her arms staring into nothing. Honour was anxious to introduce Bea to Liberty after Bea’s general awesomeness at Valhalla that day. Liberty was tremendously good at seeing through everyone’s crap. She was a difficult goddess to lie to.
“Liberty this is Bea, as I am sure you already know, but I thought I should introduce you formally. Bea this is Liberty.” Honour said with some grandeur.
Liberty looked lively once Bea offered her a hand to shake. Liberty like Glory was not a cheek-kisser, it made them both feel awkward, and that was one of the major bonds that cemented their friendship.
“How do you do? It is a pleasure. I trust that you’ve settled in to your new room.” Liberty said.
“Yes, thank you. So Liberty how long have you been a Valkyrie in the 401 for?”
“Too long, I joined just before the Wars of The Roses. That was my first assignment actually. How’s your first day going?”
“Not bad. Valhalla was pretty cool.”
“Lovely.”
“We bumped in to Astrid.” Honour said.
“I really loathe her. Is she still awful? She was a chocolate teapot during The Battle of Britain. Has her arse got lardy from sitting on it?” Liberty asked.
“No, it was peachy enough to take a bite from.” Honour grinned wickedly.
“I can see the juice running down your chin.” Bea said.
“Ha well, yes. Lib before you go and get changed for Valhalla could you please have a look at my section of the plan for the Second Korean War? I’ve tried to not angle it as a war of ideology but a war for resources but it’s a logistical nightmare. It’s pretty tricky stuff.” Honour said setting her laptop up on the table.
“Sure, no problem.” Liberty began to read over some power point slides on the laptop “I like how you’ve got China over a barrel like that, screwing their banks over is the most efficient way to provoke them into conflict. Have you liaised with any of the Shinto gods over Stage Four? They’ll need to be informed of Japanese involvement; they can get a little shirty otherwise. I’ve already dropped Ares a little FYI email and he’s looking forward to bringing in the US at Stage Six. Otherwise it looks grand. I’m happy for it to go to Glory. What level of casualties are you projecting?”
“Pretty sizable, it should carry us over for a good three decades. I’m predicting around 1.9m.” Honour said.
“Currently it’s running at 1,943,214. Not too far off there kid, good work. Bea this is a good case study for you to get to grips with how we work.” Liberty said with an approving nod.
“Perfect, thanks.” Bea said.
Honour sat down at the table having noticed a spelling mistake on one of the slides and began editing the war plan as Liberty led Bea upstairs, the pair chatting on the way.
“That’s alright. I’ll take you through a full breakdown of processes at some point. In the meantime have your parents sent your luggage yet? You can’t go to Valhalla dressed like that.” Liberty said as she glanced over Bea’s outfit.
“No not yet. My mum’s kind of busy.”
“Not to worry, you can borrow something of mine. We’re about the same size. Whereabouts does your mum live again?” Liberty had noticed the microsecond of well hidden pain on Bea’s face at the second mention of her mother.
“She’s a water nymph, so you know, in a lake.”
“And your dad, what about him?”
“I don’t really know him. He’s a bit of a scumbag; you know what they’re like: shag and run.” Bea shrugged.
“Yeah, I know the type. An Olympian?”
“Yup.” Bea said indifferently. The two girls had reached Liberty’s room and Liberty gestured at Bea to take a seat on the chaise longue near the window.
“Never mind, you’re a Valkyrie now. On that note Valhalla has a strict dress code, nothing above the knee; it’s for your own protection really. Odin gets touchy feely sometimes, although the impetus on Valkyries to change how they dress rather than have Odin change his behaviour is really weird when you think about it. I once clocked him in the face with a foldable chair when he got a bit too handsy. That was quite a nice deterrent for three years.” Liberty went over to her wardrobe and opened it up displaying all of her gowns. She rummaged through all of those beautiful silks and taffetas until she found a strapless white dress with giant black embroidered flowers which she pressed into Bea’s arms. “This is perfect. It goes with your exquisite eyes” Liberty had only just noticed Bea’s eyes for the first time and got a little embarrassed. She had been trying very hard to not read into her new comrade’s future as she often thought others might find it rude, particularly when after a few drinks she tells them that their future husband is going to have an affair with their sister. This was why she frequently wore sunglasses in inappropriate places, well that and the fact that like Glory she was probably on a come down. Liberty found it very difficult when meeting new people not to view their future, it was an instinct to her, but when she looked into Bea’s eyes all she saw was a muddle. Bea’s future was all over the place with nothing set in stone, so muddled in fact that it was impossible to glean anything of real interest. Liberty had never come across anyone quite like this before.
“Thank you, it’s lovely.” Bea smiled before innocently asking “What makes you happy Liberty?”
“You’re getting deep there kid. What makes me happy: the smell of wood smoke from the fire on a day that cold you don’t want to go outside, so instead you stay in and watch the crap films that the mortals make about love. Never tell anyone that by the way, I’ve a reputation to uphold. What makes you happy?” Liberty was still befuddled.
“I don’t know yet.” Bea said with an earnestness that startled Liberty “Do I have to wear make-up tonight; it feels like a step too far?”
“Sorry?” Liberty asked as she pulled out a pair of shoes for Bea to borrow as well.
“I’m not that kind of girl.”
“You don’t have to wear make-up if you don’t want to. Do you want to borrow some pearls? All water nymphs should wear pearls.” Liberty said as she went over to one of her jewellery boxes and selected a beautiful string that her mother had given her as a birthday present. From within the house Liberty and Bea heard a raucous laugh. Honour’s voice carried across the landing.
“Oh come on Glory that is not how you shower. And close the sodding door.” Honour said walking into Liberty’s room looking marginally scandalised.
“What was she doing? And with the door wide open too. I knew there was going to be a reason why she wanted a power shower.” Liberty said amused.
“Thankfully no it wasn’t that. I walked into the bathroom for my hair brush and Glory was just standing there nude, meditating under the running shower like it’s a waterfall. Her left arm was hanging out of the side because she’s got a lit fag and a glass of merlot in the other that was slowly filling with water spray as she occasionally took a sip. She’s getting worse. We’re going to Hell in a handcart.” Honour laughed.
“Hell with two ‘L’s or one?” Liberty asked slightly shaken by Honour’s choice of words after her chat with her father that afternoon.
“Fire and brimstone…” Bea said.
“Right well it’s half five so I’m going to go get ready for Valhalla.” Honour said.
***
Glory had been vaguely aware of Honour interrupting her shower, but she hadn’t let it bother her in her quest for inner peace. Once the time had come she turned it off, got out and grabbed a green towel. She stood in front of the mirrored cabinet, wiped the mist off with her hand and peered at her face. In a possible reaction to what she saw she opened the cabinet and swallowed a pill or twenty. Shutting the cabinet door she again was confronted by herself, by her noble brow, plump mouth and desolate eyes. Glory went back to her room where she proceeded to make herself ‘decent’ for Valhalla. After changing into a pretty dressing gown and having dried her hair she picked out a soft yellow fish tailed dress in a tactile silk and a pair of magenta suede court shoes. From her jewellery boxes she selected a neat gold band interspersed with rubies to wear around her neck. Glory wouldn’t wear earrings with it as well; she thought that would be too ostentatious. Before she put these on she sat at her vanity table and set to putting her war paint on. As flawless as she was Glory found comfort in make-up. The routine placated her. She started with a little eye shadow, then some feline eye liner and mascara before applying her red lipstick. The shade was called ‘Siren’. Glory looked at her masked face and felt calmer, the gaudy wax and powder distracted you from her. From a draw she removed a little bronze knife and strapped it to her leg as she always did, just in case.
***
Liberty had heard Glory cross the landing and jumped into the bathroom for a super quick shower, before going to get dressed. In front of her wardrobe Liberty was struck dumb by indecision. Eventually she chose a red dress that made her look like Jessica Rabbit, a pair of delicate black kitten heels and a string of pearls to wear in solidarity with Bea. Liberty never really bothered with much make-up but she felt that her dress warranted lipstick in this instance. Out of a draw she found her favourite: a red shade called ‘Siren’. As she was applying it Liberty heard a ruffle of feathers at her window, turning in anticipation of some mangy pigeon stalking her windowsill she saw a far more harrowing sight. Someone had breathed onto the window pane and in the condensation had a drawn a heart with an arrow going through it. She had fleetingly felt the presence of another audacious immortal. That fucked her up a smidgeon. Liberty rushed downstairs to where she found Glory alone in the kitchen reading over Honour’s presentation and already nursing a pint of vodka. She was too shocked to tell Glory what she had seen, even though she knew she should, and instead poured herself a gin. She had sat down in the seat next to her friend because she wanted that closeness, that protection, that safety in numbers.
***
After correcting her slides Honour went up to her room and pulled out the first dress and pair of shoes she could find. She rummaged through her jewellery box and found a pair of earrings that actually matched and put them on. She really didn’t care about clothes very much, which quite frankly was fair enough. Uncharacteristically Honour decided to put on some lipstick. She opened the draw that contained all the small random things she owned and tipped it out on the bed. Underneath some paperclips and a pack of matches from a bar she couldn’t remember having ever gone to, was the only lipstick she owned, a somewhat bright red in a shade called ‘Siren’. She hastily applied it before picking her phone up and ringing Valour’s number. She was again directed to voicemail. With that she went downstairs for a quick pre-pre-drink.
***
Bea sat on her new bed in her new room, her new empty room and thought for ten minutes. She then got up and put on the lovely things that Liberty had lent her earlier. Bea wasn’t bloody wearing make-up. For a fleeting second she had felt the presence of another god fly past her window. It had begun. She went downstairs to join the others in the kitchen.
Bea came into the kitchen to find Honour dealing a deck of cards. Honour’s brow was furrowed.
“Liberty are you sure you want to test your premonition abilities like this? It’s a little degrading.” Honour said.
“Yes, yes I do. I am nothing if not already degraded. Now deal.” Liberty said.
Honour dealt a row of five cards along the table and looked quizzical.
“I’m degraded and biodegradable.” Glory laughed to herself.
“Ace of diamonds, seven of clubs, three of clubs, jack of clubs and queen of hearts from left to right.” Liberty pointed to each of the cards in turn. Honour flipped the cards over one by one and they were just as Liberty had predicted.
“See I told you not to worry. You’re not losing it.” Glory said “Now Honour shuffle those blessed cards and set up a round of ring of fire to welcome our new recruit. Bea pull up a chair sweetheart, let’s get destroyed. I can’t bear Valhalla sober. Oh Liberty what’s with the depressing Grecian urn? Having a Keats moment?”
“I found it in Save The Children.” Liberty said in a quiet voice “Or rather it probably found me.”
“They don’t half sell some crap in those charity shops. What a morbid subject. Do we have to keep it in the house?” Glory asked looking closer at her friend. “Oh I see, you think someone is trying to make a point? Who needs to stress their opinion with a vase? We all already know that Apollo is a creep without a bit of effing pottery.” Glory said killing the subject as Honour finished dealing out the cards.
Valhalla
The girls entered Valhalla with no enthusiasm, none what so ever. Glory was angry-drunk but was trying very hard to contain it. Liberty looked worried still but was doing a better job than Glory at keeping her feelings off her face. Honour was bored. Bea was observing it all but even as a first timer she couldn’t bring herself to anything more than mild interest. Around them were Valhalla’s ghoulish but boozy inhabitants dressed in the uniforms or armour that they had worn in their prime. A few Norman knights glided past them before a fairly dashing Prussian officer who had died young gave Honour the eye. A smattering of other Valkyries could be spotted here and there in various degrees of tedium with the whole thing. The problem was that Valhalla used to be quite glamorous, but now it looked like a
shit Ritz. The wallpaper could peel off at any moment and a feather wouldn’t trust any of the sofas to hold its weight.
“Right it’s 6.30pm, good timings girls. Right can anyone see Freya or Odin, we need to get seen.” Honour said scanning the room.
“Bea this is the old ‘withdrawal method’. Make sure you’re noticed early then you can fuck off and do something more fun.” Glory said.
“What are they like?” Bea asked.
“The Norse? They’re all dreary.” Honour said.
“You’ll soon see, here comes The Dreadnought.” Liberty said as Freya charged over scattering dead shoulders in her wake. Freya was both Norse goddess of war and of beauty and she wasn’t particularly good at it. She was hot but so uninterested with how anyone else looked that to lay all the blame for the various neuroses those mortal women had over their own bodies at her door would not be unfair (although Honour had come to a conclusion that there was a global cabal of beauty goddesses that all conspired together). Freya was even less bothered by the concept of war which was why Glory and Unit 401 got so much free reign.
“Lady Freya, good evening. May I present Unit 401’s newest recruit Bea.” Glory said.
“Charming, charming, charming.” Freya said to Bea as she looked the girl up and down a little jealously.
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” Bea said.
“Delightful, delightful, delightful.” Freya said, as she looked over Bea’s shoulder for the next set of Valkyries to tick off her list.
“We hope to submit all the paperwork for the Second Korean War tomorrow morning for you to peruse before they are sent to Odin.” Glory tried to remember her duty.
“Splendid, splendid, splendid. I shan’t read it.” Freya said.
“Fantastic, fantastic, fantastic.” Honour said under her breath.
“Liberty Prometheusdottir, can I have a word?” Freya asked remembering why she had bothered to speak to them in the first place.
“But of course.” Liberty said as Freya ushered her away from the group. Freya offered Liberty a pill out of a small ornate box which she declined.
The Valkyrie Page 5