by Gene Stiles
Four days. Only four days had passed since Zeus returned with Poseidon and the survivors of the Sea Dragon, but to Rhea, it seemed more like months, each moment relished, savored and lovingly memorized. For the first time in over a century, she had her children back.
She was astounded at how quickly her daughters adapted to life outside of the dark, dank pit where they were raised. The severity of their lives was indelibly etched into the lines of their faces, the hardness of their bodies and in the set of their steely eyes, but much of who they once were was still visible to a mother’s eyes. Rhea remembered how little Demeter spent hours with her hands elbow-deep in loamy soil, enthralled with the life within. Now she spent her days in the gardens happily working alongside the farmers who provided food for the tables of Olympia. But now, when she was not in the fields, she dressed seductively, batting her sky-blue eyes at anyone who paid a moment’s attention to her generous curves. She used her sexuality as a tool and sometimes as a weapon to get what she wanted and she was good at it. That saddened Rhea, but she understood her daughter. Hestia, her firstborn, was no longer shy, but still quiet, her luxurious waves of auburn hair always held from her oval, sharp-chinned face by a simple black leather headband and tied at the nape of her graceful neck. Her jade-green eyes still peered from beneath her full, curved eyebrows, but now they were hooded and wary. She had become an incredible warrior woman and spent most of her time with the Aam though she kept a strict distance between herself any man who approached her for anything other than training.
Hera was the one most like who she had been as a child. She still kept herself apart, watching over her sisters like a nursemaid, making sure they were safe. Her reddish-yellow mane surrounded her sharp, angular features like a swirling cloud, held at bay by a maroon band of leather encircling her narrow forehead. Her hard, green eyes were as alert and observant as a bird of prey, noting everything and everyone, missing nothing. It was her strength that amazed Rhea. She wore an air of confidence and command evident in every stride and in each carefully spoken word. No mother could be prouder of the woman her daughter had become.
“The broadcast Cronus made was not received as well as he planned,” Zeus said, bringing Rhea back to the here and now. He sat on a thickly cushioned, red brocade chair, his bare, muscular forearms resting upon his thick thighs with his hammer-like hands gripped between his knees. “Though most of the People understood his reasoning and the wisdom of his actions,” he continued, “it also set off a sense of panic within the cities.”
“Why would there be fear?” Haleah asked him, shaking her head in disbelief. Her sky-blue eyes sparkled in the bright sunshine glowing through the lightly tinted windows as she gazed out at the bustling city streets. “As much as I despise his methods and hate him for a long list of other sins, I will grant that Cronus was trying to ensure the survival of our race.”
“Race is the very issue,” Oceanus replied. He sat on a small loveseat next to his wife, nibbling on warm, fresh-baked bread slathered with sweet honey. He sipped at his cold, sweet tea, wiping the crumbs from his thick hands before continuing.
“Since most of the men no longer sire children of their own, they see the children of Pettit as a threat to their virility and it shames them.” He ran his shovel-like hand over his bald, sun-bronzed, mahogany dome, his brown, near-black eyes scanning the others gathered around him. “The women fear they may be ‘recruited’ by Cronus to breed with the Izon. Quite a few of the People still consider them ugly, savage and little more than beasts.”
“Ridiculous!” Haleah huffed, tossing her long, honey-blond hair. “Home proved love can flourish between the Clan and the People. We may look different, but we are all bloodkin.”
“True,” Tethys interjected, nodding her head in agreement, “but many do not share our enlightenment. Even those who do see the scions of these unions as half-breeds, dangerous, controlled by their baser, animalistic emotions. Unfounded, yes, but when has irrational fear ever been conquered by logic?”
“The most portentous problem lies not with relations between the Izon men and the women of the People whether it is by choice or not,” Zeus said as he leaned back in his chair, his lips pursed beneath his wavy, red beard. “Now that Cronus has announced that the Nephilim have been integrated into our society for over a century and gone completely unnoticed – except for the larger among them,” he added, a small grin slipping across his ample, tan lips as he glanced at Loki and Anak, “neighbors are looking at neighbors with suspicion and sometimes open hostility. How can they be sure that they are true Atlanteans? It is causing rumbles and riots.”
“Bottom line,” he finished, “the People are terrified that they are being slowly replaced by a new breed of humanity. Nothing builds animosity and hatred faster than fear of extinction.”
“And on that subject,” Poseidon said, stepping away from the windows overlooking the turquoise waters of the bay. He gripped his mammoth hands together behind his back as he swept his gaze over the family he never knew he had. His crew had always been his kin and always would be, but there was a different kind of feeling coursing through his veins as he looked upon his own flesh and blood. “Now that we are all together, you know Cronus will redouble his efforts to destroy us.”
“Yes,” Zeus responded, rising from his chair and meeting his brother halfway across the room. “And that is something we must all decide how to deal with. If it were up to me, I would leave all of Atlantis behind. This world is vast and there is plenty of room for us to live separate and in peace.”
“Somehow,” Poseidon replied gravely, his mind still tortured by the senseless attack on their settlement, “I do not think our ‘father’” he added, spitting the bitter tasting word from his lips, “will let us.”
Zeus reached up and placed a burly hand on Poseidon’s shoulder, completely understanding the depths of his anger. He, too, had watched as Cronus laid waste to the peaceful streets of Home. Yet at this moment, he took the time to enjoy the company of his brother, still amazed at how much they looked alike. Both had the same fiery red hair, streaked with blondish highlights, though his was more tightly curled than the waves that cascaded down Poseidon’s broad back. The planes of their faces were chiseled by the hand of the same master artist from their high cheekbones to their squared jawlines. Even the corded muscle that contoured their bodies seemed drawn by the same hand. The only real differences between them were the prodigious size of his brother and the color of their eyes, Poseidon’s chipped-jade while his were sparkling gold. On the other hand, Hades, their oldest brother was as different from them as a fish from a dog.
The onyx-haired man sat to one side of the group as if maintaining an aloof distance from the others. A sullen, gloomy air seemed to surround him at all times like dark, roiling clouds as if his soul was in constant turmoil. His long, sinewy, dancer’s legs were sprawled out before him, his black boots crossed at the ankles. He rested his angled jaw on his curled knuckles, his elbow planted on the carved, wooden arm of his straight-backed, maroon-cushioned chair. His raven-colored, wavy hair was knotted in a tight, short braid at the nape of his thick, powerful neck just above wide, table-flat shoulders. His narrow waist seemed almost too small to go with the massive, muscle-corded chest that rose above it, but when he moved is was with a confident, feline grace.
“So do we take the fight to him,” Hades asked, his ebony eyes hooded beneath his bushy, midnight eyebrows, “or do we wait until he destroys this place, too?” His words were as harsh as the set of the full lips beneath his neatly trimmed, black beard. He spoke little, but when he did each word was carefully calculated and thoroughly thought out.
“It seems to be his pattern,” Hades continued after taking a sip from his tankard of dark ale. He sat it down on the polished oak table next to him. He locked eyes with his younger brothers, seemingly ignoring the rest of the room. “Cronus is so consumed by some ancient prophesy that he is forcing us to fulfill it. Any threat to his power is met wi
th death and destruction. Do you truly think he will leave us alone?”
“Unfortunately, no,” Zeus replied, a deep sigh escaping from his parted lips. He looked at his mother, noting that Rhea was the only one in the huge chamber that appeared to be happy. Is this war what she really wanted all along? Was her need for vengeance so great? He sat his wonder at that aside for now and addressed the others. “Before I commit our people to a bloodbath, however, I would meet with him and at least make an attempt at a truce.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Adrasteia was shocked at the very idea. She stood up from the long, mahogany table that filled the center of the chamber, planting her palms upon its polished surface. Her midnight-black eyes flashed in the bright lights of the room, her full, ruby-red lips twisted into a snarl.
“He will kill you where you stand without a moment’s hesitation,” she told him, her sensual voice slightly high-pitched with the concern and fury coursing through her veins. Her voluptuous, curvaceous body quivered as she spoke. “I will not lose my son as I did my father!”
Rhea glanced at her sharply, holding back the barbed retort forming in her throat. As much as she hated to admit it, Haleah’s daughter had raised Zeus more than she had and deserved the distinction of Mother.
“I know,” Zeus said, nodding his head in confirmation. “That is why we must find a safe, neutral ground. I know it is a risk, but, for the sake of all of the people, I believe it is one worth taking.”
“There is only one place I can think of,” Oceanus said, seeing the wisdom behind the idea. “Nil. Ra has stayed unaligned in our struggles and has power equal to that of Atlantis. Should he take our side, the empire would surely fall. Cronus knows that. Even he would not dare chance such an alliance by making an attempt on your life while under Ra’s protection.”
“Then let us see if he is willing to host us,” Zeus decided, looking toward his family and friends for consensus. “We must do our level best to live in peace. Not to do so would be a crime not only against all humanity but to the Creator, himself. We have been given a new world and an opportunity to learn from the mistakes of the past. We must try to avert a war that could wreak havoc on all we have built and on this entire, beautiful planet.”
“Together,” Hades added, his obsidian eyes taking in all of the People, the Izon and the Nephilim filling the Main House as he deep voice rumbled off the walls. “We must do it together as one or not at all.”
“No,” Zeus replied firmly, shaking his head as he looked upon his brother. “For all of us to stand together in front of Cronus would be slapping the Prophesy in his face. The results could be catastrophic. I will go alone.”
Nil had changed greatly since the last time Zeus had been here. Gone were the concentric squares that fanned out around the central pyramid and the majority of the homes contained within them. They had been moved to make way for a huge wall that bounded the pyramid on three sides to the north, west and south. To the east, a long, enclosed granite tunnel led miles away to a set of stone-slab buildings enclosed by high walls. A long landing strip angled to the northeast from the southeast corner of the enclosure, ending at a large main terminal. Industrial hangers with monstrous open archways were constructed near the pyramid surrounded by smaller laboratories and offices.
Even the pyramid was completely different. The stacked terraces that overflowed with cascading waterfalls of vines and aromatic, colorful flowers were gone, the steps now filled in to create smooth, flat, polished sides. The plateau at the top where garden paths wound around lattice-enclosed benches was now a sharp-pointed peak, the gigantic pavilion and its tall-pillared entrance disassembled and moved to another part of the thriving city. Now at the apex of the pyramid was a shining, pure gold capstone.
Laid out on the flattened plain within the border wall stretched long rows were ranks of vehicles divided by type. Some were simple land sleds of the small, one and two-man ilk to the larger freight kind. Others were huge troop transport sleds topped with turrets of wicked-looking weapons. Near the base of the pyramid a hundred deadly warbirds crouched upon short-cut, green grass, their beaks down-turned and grim and their landing struts looking like talons bunched for a leap into the clear azure sky. Even though the machines sat idle and silent like rows of mechanical sentries, it was clear that Ra expected a war and was well prepared for it.
“It is strange, is it not,” Oceanus commented as they traversed the wide, main boulevard that headed northeast past a second monstrous pyramid. This majestic structure was five times larger than the first, its smooth steeply-angled sides covered with black, shiny sheets of gold-marbled stone. At the top was another polished gold pyramidion. “Nowhere in the city have I seen a Proto-Sun. Where is their power coming from?”
The bright yellow late-morning sunshine of early autumn filled the expansive blue sky above them reflecting off the ebony rock of the pyramid, the golden strands blazing like the coursing veins of a living thing. They seemed to pulse as high, wispy clouds flitted by overhead, carried by a soft, cool breeze, the light changing in radiance as it passed through them. The effect was nothing short of stunning.
“I do not know,” Zeus replied quietly from the seat next to him. He pried his eyes away from the incredible, windowless pyramid, his mind swirling with questions. One either side of them were two more lanes of roadway, a light, but steady stream of traffic traveling between the pyramids and beyond to the city center. “I thank you for taking the time to give us this tour,” he said, raising his voice so their beautiful driver in the front seat could hear him.
“You are more than welcome,” Isis said, turning slightly to grace him with a lopsided, ruby-lipped smile. Her lustrous auburn hair rippled in the wind as she guided their craft toward the city, sparkling as it caught the light. It rolled down the soft, but strong lines of her shoulder blades held loosely at her elegant neck and narrow waist by rings of maroon linen. If not for that, her shining mane would have haloed her beautiful oval face like a cloud. Her emerald green eyes were filled with a mixture of pride and mischief as if she held a secret known only to her. “I do hope your friends are enjoying it as well.”
Behind them, a virtual cavalcade of vehicles followed in their wake. After the uproar had died after Zeus’ announcement that he would go alone, cooler heads prevailed and it was decided that Oceanus, Tethys and Lelantos and two of the Nephilim would accompany him. The presence of two of the Twelve might have a mitigating effect on Cronus. Lelantos, Eriktis and Loren insisted on acting as bodyguards not for inside Nil, but for the trip to and from. Once it was settled, Ra was contacted.
Zeus and his contingent arrived first and Ra offered a tour of the thriving metropolis which was gratefully accepted. Ra ordered four sleds of his royal guard to go with him, two behind and two in front, not because he feared any kind of attack, but simply as window dressing and a show of strength. Isis insisted on personally leading the procession and acting as a guide. Despite the congenial air she put on, Zeus was acutely aware that the excursion to the military complex was not just for show, but to serve as a warning to both sides.
“It is great to see you again, Oceanus,” Isis said over her shoulder as she kept a steady hand on the control yoke. Her voice was rich and warm, as pleasant to listen to as the sound of early morning songbirds. It held a genuine kindness laced with a firm strength that Zeus found compelling. “I must admit though, I am surprised that you are not with the Twelve.”
“I am sad to say I am no longer with Atlantis,” the big man responded, a touch of sorrow in his baritone voice. “After Pettit and the attack on Home, I could not be a part of it. Things have only gotten worse since then.”
“I see,” she said with a small nod. “We thought as much. The empathy and compassion that flows through you and your lovely wife are one of the many reasons we have always welcomed you here. It is why we only dealt with you over trade issues. I understand now why things have become tenser between us and Cronus over the last year.”
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nbsp; “Does he still demand you share weapons technology with him?” Oceanus knew it had always been a sore spot with Cronus that certain sciences were withheld from him. Deep inside, he still considered Nil to be a colony of Atlantis and should bow to his rule.
“That and more.” Isis laughed, her voice like the tinkling of wind chimes. “But he can complain all he wants. We are not so stupid as to arm a force that could be turned against us. Besides,” she quipped lightly, “our ideals and principles are far different from his. He can have his world. We will have ours.”
“That is all we want as well,” Zeus interjected. “That is why we are here.”
Conversation slowed as they neared the fantastic edifice rising in the midst of the bustling cityscape. Though still under construction, when it was finished this would be the largest, most awe-inspiring pyramid every created. Oddly and unlike the Atlantean pyramids, this one and the other two on the vast plateau had no crystal-paned windows. In fact, other than the immense entrances located on two of the four sides, the steep angles were sheer and smooth. Zeus did not know what the type of stone used in the sheets that covered them. Like that on the other two structures, it was marbled, glossy and appeared to be made up of fused naturally cracked plates. However, the ones overlaying the huge, many-ton blocks that made up this pyramid were of polychromatic gold. He had never seen it’s like before, but it was incredibly beautiful.
“Your pyramids are unique and awe-inspiring, Lady Isis,” Zeus said as they wound their way around the construction site, his voice filled with wonder.
He watched as crews set the massive blocks into place, grav-units attached to the sides making them as easy to move as a sack of feathers. A web of blue light beams overlaid the structure acting as guidelines, allowing the stones to be placed with flawless precision. Large, red-rayed, Condensed Light cannons mounted on Polaris sleds trimmed each block as they were set, the melted stone used to fill in any gaps or imperfections. Though currently roughly three hundred foot tall, it was obvious the magnificent, imposing edifice had some ways to go before completion.
