When the Gods Aren't Gods: Book Two of The Theogony

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When the Gods Aren't Gods: Book Two of The Theogony Page 21

by Chris Kennedy


  As he was walking through the door, Calvin had a thought. “Hey, Master Chief,” he said. “If the other squad comes in the front entrance of the pyramid, they’re not going to know how to find us and are going to fall for the traps. We better send someone back to lead them up.”

  “You’re right, sir,” Master Chief responded. He turned to the squad. “Petty Officer Levine, go back to where we left Jet and the Colonel. Wait there for the rest of the squad to get here and then lead them up.”

  “Why me?” the Israeli asked. “Because I gave Al-Sabani a hard time earlier?”

  “Because I said so!” Master Chief yelled. “I could give a shit about earlier. You’re the one with the right skill set to operate independently, now go fucking do it. We don’t have time to screw around!”

  “Sure thing, Master Chief,” Petty Officer Levine replied, chastened. He turned and left, and the rest of the squad started forward again.

  Under the Great Pyramid of Cholula, Keppler-22 ‘b’, August 12, 2020

  “Grab that torch,” Irina said, “and let’s find the secret door.”

  Remy Martin pulled the torch out of the sconce. As the torch came out in his hand, a sliding, grating sound was heard in the distance, accompanied a roar.

  “I do not know what that was,” Sigvar Borsheim commented, “but whatever it was sounded very large and very unfriendly. I recommend that we hurry.” He pointed his rifle into the maze while Martin and Rozhkov began searching the cubicle.

  Wazir went to stand beside Borsheim. “You know that the rifles do not work, yes?” he asked.

  “I am aware,” Borsheim replied, looking out into the maze. “I am hoping that whatever is coming doesn’t know that.”

  “Good point,” Wazir agreed, leveling his rifle into the maze.

  Borsheim heard a scuffling, dragging noise coming from the darkness. It sounded even larger than what he had previously thought. “You need to hurry faster!” he urged.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Inside the Great Pyramid of Cholula, Keppler-22 ‘b’, August 12, 2020

  Calvin looked at the back panel of Sergeant Tagliabue’s suit for what seemed like the hundredth time. Only 59 minutes remaining until the world ended. “Can you go any faster, Steropes?” he asked.

  “No,” Steropes said. “Not if you want me to do this safely. Without the suits, we are a lot more susceptible to any traps that are waiting for us. I remember at least one more trap before the temple level.”

  “We’re about out of time for doing things safely,” Calvin replied. “The suits are going to blow in less than an hour.”

  “I am going as fast as I can,” Steropes replied. “This is difficult to do in torch-light.”

  As they rounded the corner, Steropes came up short. “Well, this is different,” he said.

  Looking around the front rank of men, Calvin could see a 15’ wide chasm yawning in front of Steropes. On the other side of the opening, a number of what looked like manhole covers could be seen on the floor, with a lever protruding from the wall. Master Chief pulled a nickel out of his pocket and dropped it over the edge. He counted, “One...two...” About halfway to ‘three,’ the men could hear it hit. “It’s about 100 feet to the bottom,” he announced.

  “I can make that jump,” Petty Officer Sherkov stated, looking at the other side. “Once across, you can throw over my suit, and then I can help everyone across.”

  “I have a feeling that won’t be necessary,” Steropes replied looking at the wall to their left. He bent over to look at something near the bottom.

  “Lieutenant Commander Hobbs said we are almost out of time,” Sherkov said. He looked at Master Chief. “I can make the jump.”

  “And if you did, you would fall through the holes on the other side,” Steropes declared. “The lever is there to make you think that it will close the gap, but it will not. It is only there to make you try the jump.” He pulled out a small piece of metal and inserted it into a hole that was at about his knee level. With a small ‘snick,’ a five feet wide opening appeared in the wall. “This is the right way to go.”

  Inside the doorway, a passage ran off into the darkness. “You do not want to go down that passageway,” Steropes pronounced. “It is trapped.” He pointed to some iron rungs going up on the wall to the right. “This way leads up to the temple level.”

  “Not a very dignified way for the ‘elite’ to travel,” Petty Officer Sherkov remarked as he looked at the rungs, hoping that this set would hold him.

  “They are not for the coatls,” Steropes replied. “They just fly up to the temple level. The rungs are for their priests. They are to remind them that they are less worthy than the coatls.”

  “Up the ladder, Sherkov,” Master Chief ordered, leaving a marker to indicate their direction of travel for the troops he hoped would be following them. “We ain’t got much time left.”

  Under the Great Pyramid of Cholula, Keppler-22 ‘b’, August 12, 2020

  The sliding noise was close. Sigvar Borsheim could hear it clearly now. Whatever was coming made a sliding noise, paused, and then another sliding noise. “We’re running out of time!” he cried.

  “I cannot go faster!” Irina cried.

  The creature came around the last bend in the maze. Half man and half bull, it stood over nine feet tall, not including the massive horns that jutted from its head. It appeared partially lame, as it would take a step with one cloven hoof and then drag the other one forward. It breathed out explosively, and Wazir could see smoke come from its nostrils. “Shaitan!” he yelled.

  The creature paused. “I am Asterion, Keeper of the Maze,” it said, its breath heavy with brimstone as it advanced on the group. “You have walked the maze. You must die.” He looked at Wazir. “Flee!” it commanded.

  “It is a shaitan jinn,” whimpered Wazir, backing up. “They are the most powerful and evil of all of the jinn. They follow Shaitan, the devil.” He continued to back up, trembling.

  Seeing Borsheim facing the beast by himself, Remy Martin moved forward to take Wazir’s place to the left of Borsheim. He pointed his rifle at Asterion and said, “I don’t care who or what you are. Leave now, or I will be forced to shoot you.”

  The creature reached out with blinding speed, especially for something so large, and snatched the rifle from Martin’s hands. Laughing, it broke it over the knee on its lame leg. “Now what are you going to do?” it asked, throwing the pieces of the rifle to the side.

  As it bent over to break the rifle, Martin saw a button on the wall behind it. “What am I going to do?” he asked. “I am going to kill you with my knife.” He drew his knife from his belt sheath. “There is a button on the wall behind it,” he said over his shoulder to his comrades. “I am going to try to reach it.” He started moving to his left.

  “Puny creature!” Asterion howled. “You make me laugh!” It lowered its head and charged, attacking on all fours. Remy tried to jump out of the way of the charge, but didn’t have enough room to maneuver. As Asterion went by, it caught Martin with a horn. A glancing blow, it didn’t have enough force to penetrate the suit, but he was caught. Asterion stopped and tossed his head, throwing Martin through the air. He impacted the wall behind jinni headfirst with a sick thud and then slid down to the floor, not moving.

  Asterion turned to finish the downed soldier, but was hit in the side of the head by Borsheim’s rifle. Grunting, it turned to face Borsheim. “So,” it said with a snort, “you would like to die next?”

  “I name you ‘Fanden,’ the devil,” Borsheim growled, pulling out his knife. “I don’t know if you can be killed, but I am willing to see if you bleed.”

  Asterion put down his head and charged. Borsheim had noticed that he kept his head down during his first charge. He waited until Asterion was almost upon him and jumped forward and up into the air, going over the beast’s head and down his side. As Borsheim went past, he dragged his knife down the creature’s side. Unfortunately, the h
ide was tougher than he was prepared for, and all he succeeded in doing was scratching the beast, infuriating it. It snorted again, releasing a cloud of sulfur.

  Faster than Borsheim would have thought possible, Asterion turned and charged again. Unprepared for the second attack, Borsheim tried to jump over the beast’s head, but this time Asterion was ready, and he raised his head in time to catch Borsheim, hooking him on his left horn. Eye-to-eye, Asterion continued forward at full speed, slamming Borsheim into the wall, the point of his horn impaling him and breaking several of his ribs. Asterion’s horns extended in front of him, though, and they caught on the wall before he could completely flatten the Norwegian. Plaster came off the wall in chunks as he flipped Borsheim off of his horn and drew his head back to further gore the soldier.

  As the beast turned his head, he saw motion behind him. Although critically wounded, Remy Martin wasn’t dead, and he struggled up to reach the button four feet above where he lay. One hand above the other, he began crawling his way up the wall to the button.

  Knowing that the button would free the Terrans, Asterion shouted, “No!” He turned away from Borsheim, put his head down and charged the Frenchman. He had only taken one step when his good back foot went out from under him. As the monster slid on his stomach, it turned its massive head to see Wazir standing behind him, scimitar held high. The weapon flashed, severing the beast’s other hamstring. Crippled, the beast fell to the ground.

  “You!” the beast snorted. “You were the only one to recognize me. You should be running.”

  Wazir came around to the front of the beast and raised the heavy scimitar. “Sometimes you have to face your demons,” Wazir said, as he brought the scimitar down with all of his augmented strength on Asterion’s head. It sank eight inches into the beast’s skull, killing it. The creature died, becoming insubstantial as it did. The curved sword fell to the floor, smoking, as the jinni disappeared.

  Focused on the button just out of his reach, Remy was unaware of the fight behind him. He struggled a little higher up the wall with his last ounce of strength. “Got it,” he gasped, finally reaching the button. He pushed it and collapsed.

  With a grating noise, a section of the passageway opened next to Irina, and a set of rungs going up could be seen in the narrow alcove behind her.

  Staggering up, Borsheim wheezed, “One of the drawbacks of being a medic is that I know my ribs are broken, and I probably have a punctured lung.” Irina could see blood bubbling out of the corner of his mouth as he panted in pain. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  “Da,” she said in agreement. “As the Americans would say, ‘no shit.’”

  * * * * *

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Great Pyramid of Cholula, Keppler-22 ‘b’, August 12, 2020

  The remnants of the Space Force paused before an ornate, golden door. “This is the entrance to the temple area,” Steropes whispered. “We will find the coatls in here somewhere. Watch out for their tails; they have poisonous stingers in them.”

  “Now he tells us,” grumbled someone from the back. “Is it too late to go back to the ship?”

  Calvin surveyed his force. It was a motley crew. About half of the men and women were wearing their suits for the protection it gave them. The other half had set theirs down to get the extra mobility. The four biggest men wielded the spears taken from the priests; the rest had drawn their backup weapons. The blades were as varied as the soldiers holding them, from the tomahawks of the therapods, to the janbiya of Al-Sabani, to the kris of Sergeant Andrews, to Wraith’s sa-ingeom. Calvin almost felt embarrassed to wield the plain, seven inch long SEAL knife that Master Chief O’Leary had given him as a gift. Even Steropes could out-reach him with his staff.

  “Spears to the front,” Master Chief commanded, who was holding one of the spears. “We’ll go in first and spread out left and right. The others will come in after us. Kill anything that flies. Everyone ready to go kill a god?”

  “Wait,” Al-Sabani said. “You need to know that there are efreet in there.”

  “Didn’t you already mention them?” asked Calvin. “Weren’t they one of the kinds you said we didn’t want to fight?”

  “Indeed,” the Saudi replied. “Efreet are very powerful and intelligent jinn, that normally appear as enormous winged creatures of fire. It is said that they are susceptible to magic, but that most ordinary weapons have no power over them. Efreet can be either good or bad, believers in Allah or unbelievers.” He paused. “My qarin tells me there are two in the next room. They are most evil.”

  “And they can’t be killed?” Calvin asked, seizing on the only thing he heard that was even close to normal.

  “Yes, they can be killed,” Al-Sabani replied, “but it is not easy. They have the power to become immaterial and invisible at will. They can only be killed when they are in their corporeal form; even then, not all normal weapons will hurt them.”

  “How do we make them corporeal?” Master Chief asked.

  “I do not know,” Al-Sabani answered. “On the good side, they can’t attack us when they are non-corporeal.”

  Master Chief turned to look at Calvin. “This shit’s way beyond my pay grade, sir,” he said. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “Am I sure?” Calvin asked. “No, I’m not sure. I’ve never had to deal with genies before, nor do I know anyone that ever has. Still, something tells me we need to do this, regardless of the outcome.” He looked at Tagliabue’s suit next to him. “We’ve only got 35 minutes before we destroy this world,” he continued. He stood a little straighter, looking more focused. “Let’s get this done.”

  “Roger that, sir,” Master Chief replied. He turned back to the door, only to find that Steropes had worked his way behind him when he wasn’t looking. Before he could say anything or prepare his troops for the entry, Steropes opened the door.

  “Quetzalcoatl,” he said, walking in, “I have come for you.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Shuttle 02, In Front of the Great Pyramid of Cholula, Keppler-22 ‘b’, August 12, 2020

  “Ten seconds to landing,” said Bullseye, the shuttle’s WSO. “Heads up. Looks like there are Blue Forces coming out of the pyramid.”

  “You heard the man,” commed Night to the troops in the back of the shuttle, “there are friendlies coming out of the pyramid. First order of business is to get them into this shuttle and their suits into the other shuttle.” The shuttle touched down in a cloud of dust, and the ramp in back started coming down. “Let’s go! We’re running out of time!”

  The Ground Force stormed out of the shuttle, setting up a perimeter around it. Night followed them out to find that the shuttle had come down right in front of the pyramid, with its boarding ramp facing the massive structure. Their caution was unnecessary, Night saw, as it looked like all of the locals had fled the conflict taking place within it. The pyramid seemed even bigger in person than it had in photos. He realized that it was hard to grasp the enormity of a 400 meter square pyramid from pictures alone. Its height was amazing, as well, going up nearly 350’. I’ve got to find all of the suits in there? He looked at his watch. Well, at least I’ve got 20 minutes to do it, he thought with a sense of irony. Fuck.

  Not seeing any locals, he directed his squad to help the men and woman coming down the main ramp from the front of the pyramid. The group was a mess. Jet was being helped by Corporal Sanders; he staggered along, something obviously wrong with his leg. The Colonel also staggered down the main steps to the pyramid, bearing the weight of both Jet and Jet’s suit, as well as his own. Petty Officer Levine had all he could do to carry the lifeless body of someone...it looked like the Frenchman, still wearing his suit. Leading Seaman Wazir and Irina Rozhkov had Leading Seaman Borsheim suspended between them. He wasn’t moving much, and Night could see blood dripping from his mouth and running down his front from a stomach wound.

  Relieved of the body he had been carrying, Petty Officer Levi
ne stumbled up to Night and saluted. “Good to see you, sir,” Levine said, breathing hard. “The lieutenant commander sends his compliments and hopes you’ll join him in the temple level at the top of this pile of shit.” He looked like he would fall down at any moment.

  “Put your suit in the other shuttle,” Night said through his suit’s speakers, indicating Shuttle 01 that was landing next to the first shuttle. “After you do that, get aboard this shuttle. We’re leaving in 15 minutes.”

  “I’m here to take you to them,” said the Israeli, stripping off his non-functional suit. “Just let me get this off, and we can go.” He took it off and handed it to the Corporal Sanders, who had come back out of the shuttle to help.

  “Let’s go!” urged Petty Officer Levine. “They need your help!”

  “Ground Force, all troops with me!” commed Night, heading toward the pyramid at his best speed. “Time is running out!”

  Inside the Great Pyramid of Cholula, Keppler-22 ‘b’, August 12, 2020

  Calvin and the nine remaining members of the Space Force charged into the room after Steropes, followed by the two local women. Entering the room, Calvin found himself in a large open space. The room was rectangular, nearly 60 feet wide by 100 feet long. Obviously used for religious ceremonies, the room was dominated by the large, blood-spattered stone altar on a raised dais at the opposite end of the room from where the Terrans came in. There were large iron doors on both sides of the platform.

 

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