by Chris Fox
Vulcan cleared his throat and looked away. Hades, on the other hand, gave a too-friendly smile and wrapped an arm around Jordan’s shoulder. “Not more than three hours ago I met with a Ka-Dun named Blair. I believe he was a part of your pack. Blair and I share a goal. Are you familiar with the name Osiris?”
Jordan knocked Hades’s arm from his shoulder and took a step back. He eyed the god balefully. “Yeah, I’ve heard the name. Is that where you got all this tech?”
“Hardly,” Vulcan broke in. His glowered at Jordan. “We’re not lapdogs to that tyrant. We’ve been stealing his tech for two decades, and he’s none the wiser.”
“What Vulcan means,” Hades said, his gaze clearly warning Vulcan to keep quiet, “is that we’re no friends of Osiris. He’s conquered the entirety of the underworld. In doing so he’s isolated our brethren in the city of Olympus. You probably didn’t see it in the sky above, as it was obscured by the storm. It is locked elsewhere, until we can restore our conduit to the Well deep within the earth. Osiris prevents that, which makes him our enemy. You are no doubt familiar with the phrase the enemy of my enemy is my friend?”
“Yeah, I’ve heard it,” Jordan said. He didn’t like this, not one bit. “Osiris is an enemy, so far as we can tell. So maybe we have that in common. Walk me through your plan. I take the armor, then what?”
“You take the armor, which makes you faster and stronger. It also frees you from the collar, so you can leave this place,” Hades explained, putting on another magnanimous smile. “You head north to the land known as France, where you will overtake your pack. You add your now tremendous strength to theirs, and aid them in stopping Osiris. Once Osiris is stopped, Vulcan reforges our conduit to the Well, and we free our sleeping brethren.”
“Sounds simple enough,” Jordan said, though he knew it would be anything but. He nodded at Wepwawet’s unconscious form. “What about our wolf-headed friend here?”
“Ra will be here shortly, as soon as she’s dealt with the distraction left by Isis. When she arrives, I will give him into her custody. You needn’t worry. Wepwawet will be fine,” Hades said, his tone all assurances. “Have we a deal?”
Jordan was torn. There was more to this than Hades had explained, but he’d be damned if he could see the catch.
“All right, I accept,” he said, offering his hand to Hades.
45
Baiting the Trap
Hades stared after Jordan, grinning widely. That had gone better than he could have dreamed. Another seed planted.
“I do not condone this, Hades. If not for the sake of our brethren, I would oppose you,” Vulcan said, frowning darkly as he hauled Wepwawet to his feet. “Giving that Ka-Dun a set of my armor is one thing. He is young, and his need is dire. He might be willing to pay the price the armor will ultimately demand, but this? We are forcing a god to don it without choice.”
“I understand your reservations,” Hades said, as placatingly as he could muster. He breathed deeply, enjoying the hot stench of coal and metal. “Yet we do what we must. If we do not force Wepwawet to don the armor, then we have no way of knowing Ra’s movements. Doing so will be critical. If she is in league with Osiris we must know it, and if she is not then we can at least learn the answer this way.”
“It is wrong, Hades. As is much you have asked me to do,” Vulcan said, snarling. Yet he pushed Wepwawet’s unconscious form onto the dock where the second set of armor lay. He propped the body up, and began the sequence that caused the robotic arms to mount the armor.
“I don’t disagree,” Hades said, giving what he hoped was a genuine sigh. Would that he didn’t need Vulcan’s cooperation, but he was not yet ready to betray his companion. He had use for him still. “It is wrong. Yet so is what Osiris has done to our brethren. Do you wish to see Zeus again? Poseidon? If we do not overcome Osiris and restore the conduit, our family is lost forever.”
“They may be lost already. How could they have survived so long without the energy of the conduit? They’d have been forced to turn on each other,” Vulcan said, his voice quavering.
The robotic arms in the stall began to whir and buzz as they affixed armor to Wepwawet’s body. Hades couldn’t help but smile. Once the process was complete, Wepwawet would have no means of removing the armor. He’d be trapped, as surely as the unwitting Ka-Dun had been.
“Haaaaades,” came a roar, louder than thunder. It suppressed even the din of the Forge, an impressive feat. The voice was both feminine and terrifyingly familiar. “Show yourself, you treacherous little weasel.”
“Complete the process. I will stall her,” Hades snapped, whirling and heading towards the voice. He threaded his way back through the Forge, careful to avoid the numerous automatons carrying out Vulcan’s work.
He was playing a very dangerous game. Ra had the power to kill him, and even if by some miracle he overcame her, Anubis wouldn’t be far from her side. He had to convince her both that he was no threat and that his actions had been in her best interest. Damn Set and his pride. Had he not required Hades to plant a spy with both Isis and Ra, then he wouldn’t be in this position.
“Ahhh, mighty Ra,” Hades said, giving a low bow as Ra swept into the mouth of the Forge. She wore the same ivory and gold regalia he’d seen over a dozen millennia before. Her stark beauty hadn’t changed a whit, nor had the lethal way she twirled her spear. “I have been expecting you. I have much news to share, and I can even offer a potent new weapon.”
“Where is Wepwawet? And what of the Ka-Dun Jordan?” she demanded, stalking forward until she stood mere inches from Hades. Hades was not a short man, yet Ra stared him in the eye, her lean body coiled, ready to strike.
Hades licked his lips, eyes flicking to the figures with her. He’d expected Anubis, but there was no sign of the jackal-headed god. That surprised him. Ra usually brought her enforcer everywhere. In the jackal’s place stood a pair of deathless, one with red hair and freckles. The other Hades dimly remembered. Ra had a son, if he recalled. What was his name? Irakesh—yes, that was it.
Behind Irakesh stood a Ka-Dun, one also ensnared by a collar of shi-dun. He waited in clear deference to Irakesh, a proper servant in every way. Interesting.
“Apologies, mighty Ra. Follow me and you’ll have your answers,” Hades said, threading back through the Forge. Ra and her entourage followed. Irakesh appeared bored, but both the shifty-eyed Ka-Dun and the fiery-haired deathless surveyed the room with curiosity. Intelligence lurked in both gazes, though only the deathless had the bearing of a true warrior.
Hades stopped at the platform where Vulcan waited, turning to face Ra. He clasped his hands, bowing low. “Vulcan has given Wepwawet a potent new tool. He wears armor crafted from the finest technology this age has to offer. It will greatly increase his strength.”
“Wepwawet,” Ra barked, stalking up the dais and stopping before the wolf-headed god. His body was completely enshrouded by the armor and he didn’t answer.
“It will be a few moments before the armor wakes him,” Vulcan said, stepping up to join Ra.
If he feared her, he didn’t have the good sense to show it. That was alarming. Always Ra and her kind had stood above them, and they had never let Hades forget that his pantheon had once been lowly mortals. They lacked the raw power of Ra and her ilk, and relied on their weaker shaping.
“What is wrong with him?” Ra snarled, turning to Vulcan. She appeared a hair’s breadth from violence.
“He was attacked by Isis, mighty Ra,” Hades said, drawing Ra’s eye. “I do not know what prompted the fight, but the Ka-Dun Jordan was clear on this point. The fight rendered him unconscious, but the armor will help him recover from his injuries.”
“What of Jordan?” Ra snapped, eyes flaring green. “I’ll crack his spine myself if he’s betrayed me.”
“I released him, mighty Ra,” Hades said, raising a palm in supplication. “Please, hear me out. I did so for a grave purpose. I have dispatched the Ka-Dun to find Isis, for she must know the same ne
ws I am about to share with you.”
“Speak, worm,” Ra growled, eyes narrowing. Hades knew he was one word from death.
“Your anger is righteous, but when you understand my reasoning you will forgive me, I think,” Hades said, dropping to his knees. Ra wasn’t stupid, but she was also vulnerable to flattery. “Osiris has done much while you slept. The world is in danger, and our only hope lies in an alliance between you and Isis.”
Ra relaxed half a hair, cocking her head to the side. “Explain. Quickly.”
“After the Arks entered hibernation, Osiris awoke. He used the power of the Well to craft a potent army, one very similar to those once used by his brother, Set. Demons of the most hideous variety,” Hades explained. Now that the hook was set he’d use a piece of the truth, one she could verify. “His army stormed across the underworld, cutting off all conduits to the Well. All save his own. We were left powerless, growing old while he grew strong. Many gods perished, while Osiris did the unthinkable: he emerged to enslave and shape the nascent cultures of man. You can see his touch everywhere.”
“This could explain much,” Ra said, pursing her lips. “I have seen his fingerprints across the globe. The culture known as Egypt clearly aped our own, as did several others on other continents. Tell me, if your tale is true: how did you survive? Without a link to the conduit, you’d never have had the energy to cross the gulf of time to this new age.”
“It is a shameful tale,” Hades replied, hanging his head. His long grey hair screened his smile, or so he hoped. He adopted an agonized tone, one that part of him really felt. “Vulcan and I had no choice but to reverse the flow of energy from the conduit we forged with Olympus.”
“That’s monstrous,” Ra snapped, eyes going wide. She rounded, stalking back and forth like a caged cat as if weighing his fate. Even her followers looked concerned, particularly the fiery-haired deathless. “You siphoned their energy to keep yourselves alive. You understand this means all your brethren are likely dead?”
“We do, mighty Ra,” Hades said, real tears falling. He regretted what he’d been forced to do, though he’d do it again in an instant if needed. “My brother Zeus likely died cursing my name, yet what choice did we have? We are lowly sorcerers, unable to oppose someone with the strength of the deathless. We fought, but Osiris brushed us aside like gnats. Had we not reversed the conduit, my brethren would have died anyway. Vulcan and I would be dead as well, and you and Isis would have no knowledge of the treachery of Osiris.”
Ra folded her arms, staring hard at Hades. A sudden clicking and whirring drew her attention, and Hades followed her gaze. Wepwawet’s now armored form staggered from the stall. Vulcan caught him before he could fall, using those powerful arms to hold up the god’s enormous weight.
“Wh-what happened?” Wepwawet asked, his voice strangely mechanized by the armor’s voice synthesizer. His faceplate angled down as he raised an armored arm for inspection. “What have you done to me? And where am I?”
“Peace, Wepwawet,” Ra commanded, turning back to Hades. “You have done what you must. I still think you are a treacherous snake, but I will take this gift in the spirit it is offered. I will even overlook you aiding my enemy. Sending a messenger to Isis may be to my benefit.”
“Peace?” Wepwawet roared. “I will show you peace.”
His armored fist smashed Ra in the chest, launching her backwards into the stall where he’d donned the armor. She rolled to her feet with cat-like quickness, but Wepwawet was already making for Hades.
“You!” he screamed, a trio of black blades erupting from the fist of his gauntlet. He rammed them at Hades, his arm blurring too quickly for Hades to have any prayer of evading.
Yet somehow Ra was there, interposed between Wepwawet and Hades. Her Sunsteel spear had blocked the blow, and she whirled it low, knocking Wepwawet onto his back with a terrible clatter.
“Contain yourself, Wepwawet, or I will take your life here and now,” she yelled, sliding into a defensive stance. Her companions looked ready to join the fray, but as of yet had done nothing.
“The armor is terrible,” Wepwawet snapped, climbing slowly to his feet. “I can feel it pressing at the edges of my mind.”
It sounded like an apology, and it seemed to have the desired effect. Ra relaxed a hair. “If you raise arms against me again, your life is forfeit. Head back to the surface. Now.”
Wepwawet stalked off, smashing an automaton with a balled fist as he passed by. Ra watched his passing until he was out of sight.
“Thank you, mighty Ra,” Hades said, bowing low. He held his deferential pose for long moments.
“Now, what other weapons have you created for our use?” Ra said. “It seems we are to go to war with Osiris, and I’d not fight it unprepared,”
The seed was planted. Set would be pleased.
46
Run
Jordan ducked as a boulder the size of a bus crashed down behind him with a deafening boom he could feel even in his armor. The wind screamed, whipping trees, rocks, and the occasional body around with equal ferocity. He’d never seen anything like it; the entire horizon was painted in violent orange, blotting out most of his immediate surroundings. Visibility was a paltry hundred feet, and even the armor’s vast array of sensors picked up little.
Despite the life-threatening peril, he felt like a god-damned god. Jordan gathered his legs underneath him, the mechanical whirring of the armor audible even over the wind. Then he leapt skyward, over the crest of the hill and onto a boulder on the far side. What had that been? A hundred and seventy-five feet in one bound? His already incredible strength was vastly augmented by the armor, but it was more than that. He had limitless energy, as well. Jordan laughed exultantly.
I do not trust this strange mechanical device, Ka-Dun. The beast rumbled. We’d be better served with our own abilities.
“Maybe I’d ditch it, if I was able to get the collar off,” Jordan replied, leaping again. Four more leaps and he reached the valley floor, skidding a long furrow in the dry dirt. It was odd that it was dry during a storm of this magnitude, but hardly surprising when you thought about what the storm was made of. “As it is, we don’t have any choice. Even if we did, this dramatically improves my combat abilities. They even included missiles. All I need is a rifle of some kind.”
He broke into a full sprint, glancing at the chronometer that overlaid his vision. Fifty-four fucking miles an hour. Holy. Shit. Jordan broke right, grabbing the side of an outcrop and flinging himself to the top of the next hill. Again and again he repeated the process, quickly eating up the ground as he moved away from the storm. Or tried to anyway.
The boiling clouds shifted suddenly, moving in his direction. High above, lightning split the sky, and the orange clouds were thick with fire. He could smell burnt ozone, even through the suit’s air filters. A bolt traced the horizon in front of him, stabbing into the earth with incredible brilliance. It sent up a massive geyser of earth and stone. Could lightning even do that? Another strike, then another. They rained down all around him, though the few surviving trees were thankfully acting as lightning rods.
The temperature gauge on his HUD read 118 degrees. Jesus, that explained why he was sweating so profusely. He blinked rapidly to clear his eyes, wishing he could touch his face. The armor prevented that, of course.
Could the vegetation here even survive the kind of heat and fury he was witnessing? It wasn’t a god-damned desert, or at least it hadn’t been. After the storm, maybe that would be different.
A little red blip lit the upper corner of the mini-map in the corner of his display. It showed the surrounding topography, and the dot was ahead and to the right. He sprinted forward, leaping up a hillside and dodging another lightning strike as he crested the top. The storm was growing more furious, and the wind was strong enough to toss him off-balance each time he leapt. If not for the armor’s internal stabilizers, he’d have been crushed against a rock. Or worse. Jordan kept moving, this time down to a wide
plain.
In the sky above him, he saw the silver ship disappearing on a northern course.
47
Breathing Room
Blair heaved a sigh of relief, shaking from the aftereffects of adrenaline.
“Blair, look at this.” Liz’s voice came from miles away. It took everything he had to raise his head and stare through the clear portion of the deck. He badly needed sleep.
Blair gasped as he took in the view. Orange and red clouds blanketed the entire southern horizon, their roiling mass flashing with occasional bursts of lightning. No one from this age had ever before witnessed such immense, beautiful power.
“It’s amazing,” Blair said, releasing the control pillar and moving to join her. “But honestly? I hope I never have to face one of those storms again.”
“This one was mild,” came a soft voice. Blair started, seeing Isis to his left, sitting atop a chest carved from dark red wood. She’d returned to human form, her silver hair loose as she stared at the storm. She was so tiny, so forlorn. “A strong sunstorm will boil away all life where it passes, scouring the earth of everything. Fortunately such storms are rare, and the first will not come for decades. Centuries if we are lucky.”
“Well, let’s just hope we don’t have to fly through one any time soon,” Liz said, her tone light and optimistic. She beamed a perfect smile his way, eyes twinkling in the strange glow of the storm.
Blair wished they were alone, though he was grateful Isis had saved them. He blinked away those thoughts as Liz continued. “So now what? I know the whole plan was to find out what had happened to the Nexus. We know Osiris has something to do with it. Blair, do you want to fill her in?”
“Not really, but I guess I have to,” Blair said, steeling himself. It wasn’t every day you told a goddess her estranged husband had become an evil overlord, apparently bent on world domination. “Hades said he was willing to give us the slipsail, because we had to be able to carry news to you.”
