by Luke Romyn
"You are indeed a fool, just as the Olympians are fools. We will bypass their defenses using this gate and hit them unexpectedly where they feel safest. They think they're so secure in their towering city up on Mount Olympus, but we will come at them like a hurricane within their own borders, cutting them to pieces before they even realize what has happened. I now command a force more powerful than the original army of the Titans, and we have schemed for years, leaving nothing to chance."
Prometheus grinned triumphantly, moving to the table where he picked up Chiron's sword, shaking his head and placing it back on the bench. Instead, the Titan grabbed a long, thin shaft of metal, twin blades splitting apart at the end when a trigger was pressed.
"This little thing can make you sing your most protected secrets," Prometheus whispered maliciously. "But when it is used on another, when you are forced to watch what it can do to someone you care for, the effect is even more dramatic." Prometheus turned to the other torture rack and his face dropped.
Wes was gone!
"Hey sexy," whispered a voice.
Prometheus spun around, his voice rising to shout for help. "Gua -"
It was a shout that never finished.
Wes stood atop the table, his right hand gripping a short, double-bladed knife from the tray of torture tools. Standing almost eye to eye with Prometheus, he stabbed it into the base of the Titan's throat, severing his windpipe.
No blood flowed from the wound, and Talbot remembered Prometheus's miraculous healing abilities.
But so did Wes.
Just as the Titan was raising his hand to remove the blade, Wes flicked the hilt of the sword of Chiron into the air with his foot, expertly catching it, and slicing it cleanly through Prometheus's neck, decapitating the huge Titan.
Prometheus's head fell sideways, a look of utter surprise frozen on his features. His skull hit the floor and bounced - the sound heavy and hard, like a bowling ball dropped on a timber floor. The massive body stood for a moment before crumpling to the ground.
"Grow that again, fuck-face," muttered Wes, leaping off the table, throwing the remainder of his restraints to the floor and revealing the small folding knife hidden in his left hand, concealing it once more in the hidden pocket under the collar of his fatigues.
"You took your time," muttered Talbot, moving his right arm to a better position for Wes to cut through it with Chiron's sword. "I wasn't sure how long I could keep distracting him!"
"You did a great job, princess," replied Wes. "Besides, do you have any idea how hard those restraint things were to cut through with that little knife?"
Talbot shook his head and almost grinned before he caught himself. They were in no position to relax, stuck as they were within a city and surrounded by possibly the most powerful enemies imaginable.
His eyes were drawn to the rift gate.
It sat there, seeming to call out to him, and Talbot realized they had no choice. It was horrible. In knowing what he had to do, Talbot also knew he was doing exactly what the Titans required of him. It was what they had been leading him toward ever since this thing had begun, twisting and manipulating events as they went, and it tasted like ash in Talbot's mouth that he had no other option.
He had to open the gate in order to return to Olympia and warn Zeus. But in opening the gate he also risked the chance they wouldn't be able close it from the other side. The gate would be open for the Titans to use for their attack.
"We've got no choice," said Wes, guessing at what was tormenting Talbot. "We have to warn them, and that's the only way through."
"I know," muttered Talbot. He still didn't like it. They might condemn the Olympians in the very act of trying to save them.
"Besides which," continued Wes, "we still have to get home and close off the Syrpeas Gate before everything goes to shit."
Talbot cursed softly. With all the stress of the impending war and the duplicity of the Titans, he'd forgotten their real mission. As unbelievable as it was, he'd stopped thinking about the perilous situation of the Syrpeas Gate - the main rift from which all of the others apparently flowed - expanding exponentially until the entire universe was consumed. How the hell had he forgotten that?
"Alright," he said to Wes, thinking quickly. "I think we can manage to escape and collapse this gate if you smash this panel here" - he indicated the one closest to the rift - "right before we jump through. You can't be too quick, though."
"That's what the ladies say too," replied Wes with a wicked grin.
"What?"
Wes shook his head and sighed. "Don't worry. It won't be a problem."
Moving over to the stone control panel, Talbot began to rapidly punch the combination of symbols opening the rift to Olympia - bypassing the need to return to Hades.
It still amazed Talbot to discover he possessed an understanding of things which he had no real reason to know. Even as he watched his hands blurring across the panel, he had no comprehension why the symbols he pressed were the correct ones, or how he had come to know. The only thing Talbot could liken it to was reading a book or the newspaper: somehow the squiggly letters on a page which created sentences and paragraphs made sense the way they did, they just did. The only difference was he had learned how to read books; this talent seemed innate.
The huge stone pillars so similar to those at Stonehenge and identical to every other gate began to spin. Within moments they were merely a blur and then, with a mighty thunderclap, the blur disappeared, replaced by a yawning, swirling rift.
Talbot prepared to leap into the rift when the main doors suddenly burst open behind them. He turned to see Kronos, along with about a dozen other Titans, crowding the entrance to the room. The king of the Titans glanced down at the decapitated corpse of Prometheus, becoming suffused with rage and releasing a primordial roar. All the Titans with him - most garbed for war - charged into the room.
Wes drew Chiron's sword and snarled, preparing to fight, but Talbot grabbed him and threw the commando bodily into the rift before diving in behind him. As the icy chill of nothing wrapped him, Talbot cursed himself. In his haste to save Wes, he'd forgotten the one thing more important than any other -
He'd left the back door open.
The Titans now had a way into Olympia.
CHAPTER 15
Talbot fell heavily to the dusty stone ground, silently cursing the fact he hadn't been prepared for the sickening lurch or reappearance of gravity. This was the third - or was it the fourth? - time he'd jumped between dimensions; he should be used to the jolt at the end by now. It was like riding a roller coaster without a seatbelt or shoulder-bars, and then hitting a concrete wall as the rift abruptly spat him back into reality.
Scrambling to his feet, Talbot felt hands aiding him and glanced up to see Wes already standing, his eyes darting around for any signs of danger. The rift had opened up on the outer edge of the large, open plain behind the Olympian citadel. The soaring rear wall - the only protection from this side of the city - rose far off in the distance. Craggy peaks encircled the entire top of Mount Olympus. Off in the distance Talbot could just make out the main hall of Zeus, glinting high on the mound in the middle of the city, like a lighthouse overlooking all that the leader of the mythical Greek gods cared for.
Dusting himself off, Talbot nodded thanks to Wes and looked behind him. The rift from Tartarus remained constant. It wasn't closing. With nobody on the other side to shut it down, and no controls on the Olympian side, the rift was now open permanently - or at least until the Titans decided to close it, which probably wouldn't be soon.
Talbot heard heavy hoof beats approaching and Wes spun around, Chiron's sword up and ready to defend as a dozen Olympians warriors - in full battle armor of bronze, including greaves, breastplate, helm and pleated leather kilt - came riding toward them across the plain from the distant city. Within seconds Talbot and Wes were surrounded by a dozen spears buzzing with the same power as Chiron's sword.
"What have you done?" gasped a familiar
voice. Talbot's gaze shot over to see Zeus approaching atop a magnificent white steed, his eyes fixed upon the rift shimmering behind them. "Where is Heracles?"
"Oh shit," murmured Wes, shifting the sword slightly in his hand, adjusting his grip. "Here comes daddy."
"Heracles gave his life for us," said Talbot, aware of the savage drop in Zeus's expression. "As for this," he waved his hand at the rift. "This is a catastrophic problem, and I'm not sure how much time we'll have before the Titans get here."
The look of sorrow on Zeus's face was instantly replaced by one of intense focus. "Tell me everything," he said, waving the soldiers away. The soldiers rode off in a cloud of dust and took up defensive positions, aiming themselves toward the huge rift.
Talbot told Zeus the entire tale of their journey from the point when they'd left Olympia through the rift with Heracles. The Olympian leader's expression hardly changed when Talbot recalled how Heracles had sacrificed himself to Kharon in order for them to cross the river Styx, but Talbot sensed a deep pride within Zeus. When Talbot reached their escape from Hades, Wes interjected with his severing of Hades's arm and Prometheus's miraculous powers of regeneration before allowing Talbot to continue through to the present.
Zeus released a heavy breath and ran his hand through his thick, lightly-graying hair. Not since their first meeting had this figure of legend seemed so fragile to Talbot, and he was reminded again of how exaggerated the legend of the Olympians had become.
"Damn," he heard Zeus mutter. Louder he said, "I thought it was over, I thought we might finally find some peace."
"How long do you think we have?" asked Wes.
"Mere hours," replied Zeus. "The Titans are phenomenal war makers, and while your guessing their plans and escaping would have put a glitch in their tactics, they will swiftly recover and begin to prepare. Every moment they delay gives us more time to prepare our own defenses."
"Well, begging your royal pardon, but shouldn't you be getting ready for a war rather than standing here counting daisies?" snapped Wes.
His words had the desired effect. Zeus glared at him intensely, but barked an order to one of the soldiers. The Olympian saluted, and then wheeled his horse away, speeding off toward the city. Wes and Talbot were given mounts, and they rode with Zeus and the rest of the soldiers back to the city.
The soldiers rode through the gates in perfect formation, Wes matching their grace. Talbot hadn't ridden a horse in years, but he somehow managed to find his rhythm on the ungainly mount and followed the rest of the riders into the city. Alarm bells were being sounded throughout the Olympian citadel, and as soon as they were within the thick white wall surrounding the city, huge gates swung closed, a massive crossbeam dropping into place to secure them.
Zeus dismounted, Talbot and Wes following his lead. One of the soldiers collected their mounts and rode off toward the stables. Activity was everywhere, and Talbot was reminded yet again that these people had only recently survived a devastating war. Homes were swiftly shuttered and weapons were brought swiftly through the streets toward the walls.
"Looks like we're gonna have a hell of a shindig here, baby," said Wes, grinning wildly.
Zeus rounded on him. "How many troops would you estimate the Titans had?"
"We only saw a token group. They were attempting to look like a defeated race, and as such showed us only family groups and the infirm or elderly. If I had to guess, I'd say they could potentially have between twenty to thirty thousand warriors. They tried to keep the city looking empty, but there were too many houses in good condition for the number of people they displayed to us. Their barracks halls alone could have easily housed twenty thousand soldiers, not including the ones who had homes dotted throughout the city. How many troops do you have here?"
Zeus frowned, looking away before responding. "Just under a thousand."
"Oh shit," murmured Talbot.
Wes, however, seemed to take the news in his stride. "This place is well constructed and fortified, even against a force like the Titans. Your outer walls have crenellated parapets, which are great for defense -" Wes pointed to the craggy, cut out portions to the wall which defenders could take cover behind "- and your weaponry is fantastic. How many arrows do you have?"
"Only around three thousand," replied Zeus.
"Then that's three thousand dead Titans," said Wes. "More if they work as well on those big bastards as they did on those bird things the centaurs attacked under Ayers Rock. Do you have any other assets? Talbot told me about that big fucker with a billion arms. Any more of those guys hanging around?"
"Briareus was an experiment of the Titans - much like many other creatures from that realm. Their race was always violent, given to atrocities such as we could not comprehend. They poisoned their world in such a way as to make the very air warp creatures into horrific parodies of life -"
"Yeah, yeah," interrupted Wes. "That's really very sad, but what about big fuckers who can help us kill our enemies. Have you got any of them?"
Zeus controlled his temper with effort. "Briareus has so-called 'brothers' such as the giant which attacked your companion, but he is the only mutated creature which allied himself to our cause. I managed to clone him twice, however, during the last war using methods known only to us."
"That was such a difficult way of telling me there's three of them. Where are they?"
"Kottos and Gyes are being summoned, along with Briareus, as we speak," replied Zeus, ignoring Wes's rudeness. Talbot felt certain if the situation were different the king of the Olympians would have an entirely different reaction to Wes's insolence.
"What about big-ass weapons?" asked Wes. "Do you have any cannons or rocket launchers?"
"We have several catapults, but they will be useless unless we place them outside the walls."
Wes glanced around, staring up at the huge walls. "Not necessarily," he murmured.
***
"Come on, you gigantic bastards!" yelled Wes from the battlements.
The three huge Hecatonchires hauled the massive catapult up the wall. The weapon was at least a hundred and fifty tons of steel and stone, but the multi-limbed and headed creatures carried the immense weapons up the hundred-foot walls like they were feathered pillows. The most difficult thing they encountered was avoiding damage to the huge machinery, so while two of the giants pulled from the top, one hung precariously from a thick rope and stopped the catapult from bashing and scraping against the high wall.
There were already three other catapults placed in strategic positions upon the high wall, a massive pile of glowing projectiles beside them. The container-like basket loaded the projectiles as soon as the gigantic arm of the catapult was drawn back. Talbot had wondered about this, knowing that the power contained within those projectiles was similar to electricity and as such would harm anyone who touched them. In answer, he witnessed Olympians wearing thick, rubber-like insulated gloves loading the baskets. For such primitive-looking machines, the catapults seemed incredibly efficient. Several test shots had resulted in incredible explosions. Talbot began to like their chances more and more.
And then he remembered what they faced.
He strode atop the battlements, a hundred feet above the rocky ground which stretched towards the rift from Tartarus a mile or so distant. The huge rift shimmered, and colors swirled upon the inky surface, reminding Talbot once more of oil on water.
Soon, a host of alien creatures would surge through that gate between the realms, intent upon destroying the people here in order to take over this realm. Talbot had never witnessed a battle before, not even on the television back home. Now, however, he was garbed for war, a solid bronze helm upon his head, the nasal bar pushing down slightly, the cheek guards pressing onto his skin.
The leather kilt with bronze reinforcing strips was difficult to get used to as well, though Wes strode the walls in his like he had been born to wear it, the shining bronze greaves on his shins glinting in the bright blue sunlight. It was like they had
stepped back in time to the days of ancient Greece, but an ancient Greece whose weapons were almost futuristic in their power. Even the armor, though made from bronze, was apparently strong enough to withstand a bite from the jaws of Cerberus itself! Not that Talbot wanted to put this theory to the test....
The final catapult swung into place, and Wes slapped the huge Hecatonchires brother, Kottos, on the rump. Talbot was amazed at the easy manner Wes had around the lumbering creatures, and they in turn had swiftly come to respect the rough-talking Aussie, despite - or maybe because of - his sometimes strange behavior.
Wes had organized the defenses of the city efficiently and without embellishment. They were designed to be functional and devastating against an enemy which they were estimating would be more than thirty times their number.
Thirty. Thousand. Titans.
If Wes's estimation proved correct, they would soon be under siege from an astronomical contingent, along with whatever assortment of creatures available at the Titans' beck and call. Creatures like the horrific Cerberus.
Suddenly the hundred-foot high walls didn't seem so secure.
Horns sounded, echoing off the mountains encircling the plain. Talbot looked at the summits, wondering if those peaks might be the only witnesses to the end of Mount Olympus. Suddenly Talbot was hit by the realization that if he died here, there would be nobody left alive to close off the Syrpeas Gate, leaving it uncontested to expand and absorb the entire universe.
He shrugged. As Wes would say: Who gives a shit? If they were dead, it wouldn't worry him anyway.
The horns sounded again, and Talbot snapped his gaze forward, staring out toward the rift. It shimmered and swirled, disgorging rank upon rank of Titan troops, each warrior covered from head to toe in malicious-looking, black armor. Talbot swallowed as the troops spread out, swiftly filling the entire valley as more poured through the rift behind them. He lost count, but quickly realized that Wes had been almost conservative with his estimation of the enemy's numbers.