Colony - Nephilim

by Gene Stiles

  Phoebe knew exactly what drove Cronus from the room as if pursued by ravenous beasts. True, he had never been in Nil before and was somewhat awed by the power emanating from the vibrant city and the immensity of the pyramids laid out within it, but he still felt it did not compare to the grandeur of Atlantis. The thinly veiled threat implied by the tour of the military complex angered him, but not to the point of rashness. Rightly or not, Cronus still felt the might and resources of the Atlantean empire could destroy Nil if it came to that. He just did not believe the price was worth the effort.

  It was Zeus. He was the Prophesy brought to life before his very eyes. Cronus had lived with the guilt of his father’s death for centuries and it tore at his heart. He loved Uranus with every fiber of his being, but his father had also taught him that the People came first above all else. He hated himself for being the one forced to kill Uranus for the sake of the People and it was doubtful he would ever forgive himself for it. It colored every decision he made ever since. If the People did not come first then what had he done?

  Now arrayed before him was the final words of his father. When he saw his son, all he had sacrificed for Atlantis was in jeopardy. He stared into the face of the golden-eyed Zeus and saw not his last born, but only the harbinger of his doom. How could Cronus not flee from the visage of his own death?

  The platinum-haired beauty felt her heart swell with pity for him. She understood him far better than he knew and though she did not agree with much of what he had done, she was cognizant of the fact that his intentions were pure and it had all been done for his view of what was best for the People.

  Phoebe felt the gentle touch upon her alabaster forearm and shifted her gaze to her husband. Coeus gave her a wan smile, his kindly hazel eyes telling her he knew where her mind had gone. They had been together so long that they almost thought as one. They agreed on almost everything, but he was able to look past the horrors Cronus had wrought and see the result of his actions. Atlantis had grown and prospered under his rule almost too much.

  He reached for his dark green tea and let the slightly bitter liquid swirl within his mouth for a moment and then returned his attention to his friends across the table. It had been a long time since he spoken with Oceanus and Tethys and missed their companionship. The conversation was not on Cronus’ sudden disappearance, but on their adventures since leaving the city as if, by mutual consent, his absence would not be spoken of.

  Hyperion engaged a beautiful servant girl as she poured him another glass of red wine, watching the way her dark eyes fluttered playfully at his attentions. He lavished compliments upon the brown-haired beauty, occasionally touching her hip and the small of her back as she leaned provocatively over him to fill his goblet. His shining jade eyes seemed only for her and his somewhat sexual suggestions caused her to giggle as she responded in kind to his advances. He made her feel as if she was the only one in the room and the center of his world.

  Nothing could have been farther from the truth.

  Hyperion wondered why Rhea was not here. He wanted nothing more than to draw her into his strong arms and to cover her lovely face with sweet caresses. He yearned to tell her how much he missed her and that he would leave Atlantis to spend the rest of his life devoted to her, but he was not to be given the chance. Even then, he reluctantly admitted to himself, he would not have left with her. He could not abandon the People at such a turbulent juncture.

  Something about the attitude in the new, strangely calm and compromising Cronus chilled him to the bone. No matter what atrocities he had committed, deep in his heart Hyperion still loved and respected his brother. He had prayed that this change in him would bring about a lasting peace to the empire, but that hope was dashed when Cronus dashed from the room.

  Hyperion was always astute to the emotions of others. It is what made him so popular and the Wind Song so successful. He instinctively knew what people wanted and just what words would draw them to him, spilling their secrets and desires as if they were old friends.

  He saw the fury and fear rising inside of Cronus at the sight of his son and the two of the Twelve he felt had betrayed him. It was like a pool of molten lava struggling to explode from the bowls of the earth. He saw the serpents coiling seething in his brother’s eyes, their fangs dripping with deadly venom. The vicious killer was emerging again. He saw it in the terse words, blazing eyes and the tremors Cronus fought so hard to conceal. Hyperion was amazed the Lord Father maintained enough presence of mind to escape before he was overcome by his demons and attempted something that would surely have had horrendous consequences.

  Hyperion thought that this might happen, which is why he joined the Twelve on this trip and why he did not mention Rhea. It would do no one any good to further antagonize the Lord Father. Now that Cronus had left and the meal had turned to small gatherings scattered around the courtyard, maybe he could ask about her.

  “Zeus, it is so good to see you again,” Hyperion said as he worked his way around the room. He gripped the man’s forearm tightly then pulled him into a warm embrace. “You have not changed at all since we last met in Home. I was truly sorry to hear of its destruction.”

  “Thank you, Hyperion,” Zeus replied, glad to see the man again. He spread out his hand to encompass those surrounding him. “Please allow me to introduce my companions.”

  “You, of course, remember Lelantos,” he said, touching the shoulder of his auburn-haired friend.

  “How could I forget? Whenever I visited Home, you had some new gadget to show me.” Hyperion smiled broadly, grasping the man’s forearm. “How goes your inventions, my friend?”

  “Still piling up in my messy workshop,” Lelantos replied with a grin, his gold-flecked hazel eyes sparkling. “Some of them actually work.”

  “This is Eriktis and Loren formally of Pettit,” Zeus continued.

  Hyperion gazed up at the gigantic man, his eyes emerald eyes suddenly filled with remorse. His almost-feminine lips dropped slightly as he locked arms with the Nephilim before kissing the proffered hand of Loren. She blushed a little at his caress and beamed into his handsome face.

  “I am so sorry I did not find out about Pettit sooner,” he said to them both, his words laced with regret. “I hope you can forgive me my ignorance.”

  “It is not your fault,” Loren told him, her dark eyes shining at his honesty and kindness. “Cronus kept his secret well.” She leaned into Eriktis’ warm embrace. “Just know we are happy now. That is all that matters.”

  “Thank you,” Hyperion said, his radiant smile returning. He took her hand and pulled the two of them along behind him. “Now let me introduce you to my brothers and sisters.”

  Zeus circulated among the Twelve over the next couple of hours seeking insights into the kind of people they were. He was pleasantly surprised to find that most of them were like Oceanus and Tethys, kind, caring and respectful. He had expected them to be wary and fearful, afraid he was the destroyer of their power and positions as did Cronus. Instead, they met him with warm smiles and open curiosity, bombarding Zeus with endless questions about his travels and his life. The women cooed over him as would mother hens, asking about Rhea and genuinely happy to meet him.

  Along the way, he dropped hints about why he requested this meeting to judge their reactions. Most were receptive and gracious. In others, Zeus sensed an unease colored with suspicion as if they did not trust the honesty of his intentions. Only two met him with open distrust.

  “You say you only wish peace,” Crius snapped at him, his dark brown eyes half-hooded and leery, “yet you attacked Pettit and killed many of the People living there. On our own soil, nonetheless. How is that peaceful?”

  “I said we want to live in peace,” Zeus responded sternly, his golden eyes sparkling at the tone, somewhat taken aback by the vehemence in the curly-haired man’s words. “I did not say we would not react to the unprovoked destruction of our home. Nor did I say that we would allow slavery and abuse to run rampant without interve
ning.”

  “Yet your home was within easy striking distance of Atlantis,” Crius countered. The tight, black ringlets coiled around his sharp-edged, oval face quivered with the angry vibrations coursing through the youthful looking man. “You could have gone anywhere in the world, yet you chose to remain close. Your Izon invaded Atlantis and murdered men, women and children in their beds as the city slept. I had friends among the dead.”

  “They were not ‘my Izon’,” Zeus replied firmly, doing his best not to enter into a heated discussion about what had happened to the Izon under the hand of Cronus. “That happened long before I was even born. They were hate-filled men and I abhor such actions by anyone. Is that your excuse for burning my home to the ground and for killing so many of my friends over a century later?”

  He tried to keep the fury from seeping into voice, yet his rigid stance and bunching muscles warned everyone around him that a violent storm was brewing deep inside of him. Crius saw the tempest building and took a cautious step backward.

  “And what of my true father?” Zeus rumbled, his full lips drawn back in a terse snarl. “Did Morpheus deserve to die horribly just for defending his people against Atlantean aggression?”

  His rumbling tone reverberated throughout the courtyard, drawing a crowd around him as he advanced on the retreating Crius. Iapetus stepped forward to stand at the side of his brother, calm and unruffled. His cold, ebony eyes were flat and emotionless as he silently stepped between the two men like a granite wall, his monstrous hands relaxed at his side and unthreatening.

  “I do believe it is time to end this discussion before it gets out of control,” Ra said, putting a firm hand on Zeus’ shoulder.

  For a brief moment, it seemed as if the leader of Olympia might turn on him, but then he saw the fire in those brilliant eyes dim and go out. He was grateful. Ra did not wish for things to escalate to the point he was forced to take action.

  “Forgive me, Lord Ra,” Zeus said contritely. His corded muscles loosened as he took a deep breath. “That was rude of me.” He turned to Crius and Iapetus and dipped his head in a slight bow. “I am sorry for letting my emotions get the best of me. I beg your pardon.” He extended his arm to Iapetus and clasped his forearm.

  Crius said nothing, just spun on his heel and walked away trying to hide his fear and embarrassment beneath a veneer of righteous indignation. Zeus scared him and he was loath to admit it. He would never concede the truth behind the man’s words even to himself, but they stung and that troubled him.

  Later on, as the festivities wound down and most of the people ambled off to their quarters to rest, Hyperion again sought out Zeus and drew him into a quiet corner.

  “How is your mother?” he asked softly. “I would know that she is safe.”

  “She is,” Zeus responded, knowing full well how the man felt about her. “And she is happier than I have ever seen her.”

  “She has her children back,” Hyperion said, grateful to hear that. “It is what she has wanted for decades. I do hope it has softened her rage. I have worried for her for a long time.”

  “I know you love her, Hyperion,” Zeus said gently as he placed a hand upon the older man’s shoulder, a compassionate glitter in his golden eyes. He almost laughed at Hyperion’s stunned expression. “Oh, come now. You do not hide it as well as you think. We have always known.”

  “I have never…” he stammered, his face reddening.

  “Of course not,” Zeus said with a shake of his head. “You are an honorable man. But if I am honest, I do not see why you have not. It is plain my mother is attracted to you as well.”

  “Attracted, yes,” Hyperion responded, his deep baritone voice edged in sorrow, “but in love, no. I cannot settle for just that. Would you please just give her my regards and let her know I am here if she needs me?”

  “I understand,” Zeus replied, sensing the depth of Hyperion’s emotions. “You have my word. I shall pass on your message. Sleep well, my friend.”

  Hyperion watched as Zeus left the chamber, wishing he could have said more; explained why he was not at her side. He had a duty to the People and no matter how he felt, Atlantis must come first. Dropping his head and taking a deep breath to keep the tears from streaking his cheeks, he slowly made his way to his room. Someday, he promised himself. Someday.

  “What do you think?” Ra asked Isis and Astraeus as their guests retired for the evening. He slipped his thin, white, gold-threaded robe from his broad shoulders and draped it over the back of his chair, reaching wearily for a goblet of dark red wine. “Will they come to a peaceful resolution?”

  “I believe Zeus is being honest,” Isis replied, taking off her crown and tossing her long waves of luxurious auburn hair over her smooth, suntanned shoulders. She ran her slender fingers through the unruly locks that dropped into her sparkling green eyes and pushed them casually around her ears. “I am completely satisfied that his intentions are pure.”

  “It is not his intentions I am concerned with,” Astraeus commented grimly, his midnight skin glistening in the dimming lights of the courtyard. He reached for a steaming cup of hot, dark tea having consumed enough alcohol for one evening. “Word of the reunification of the children of Cronus has spread across the land. Those who oppose Atlantean rule are using it as a rallying cry to draw supporters to their ranks. Whispers of prophesy fill the streets. I fear Zeus may be used as an icon whether he wishes it or not.”

  “That would not bode well for Olympia,” Ra agreed, leaning his sinewy forearms upon the table and clasping his hands before him. His ocean-blue eyes were narrowed and hawkish beneath his thick, blond eyebrows. “We all saw how Cronus reacted merely at the sight of him. If he believes Zeus is usurping his rule, true or not, there is no telling how he will respond.”

  “The real question is should we get involved?” Isis asked, stretching her shapely legs out languidly beneath the table.

  “No,” Ra replied firmly. “We have helped Olympia set up their manufacturing systems. We supply them with raw materials and trade goods. We have even shared defensive technologies with them. That is all we can do. Any more than that and we will be risking our own people and I am not prepared to do that.”

  “Our project is too important to all of humanity to have it endangered at this point,” Astraeus agreed, running his huge fingers through his bushy black beard. “Once the Message has been sent, the world as we know it will change.”

  “I believe for the better,” Isis said as she leaned back in her chair. She stretched her arms over her head, arching her luscious body in her cat-like way that was at once both unconscious and sensual. “However, should a true war begin, it could spread and hinder our efforts. Cronus is unstable and unpredictable. If he considers us a threat or in collusion with Zeus, he could force us into the fray.”

  “Let us hope it does not come to that,” Ra said, a touch of apprehension coloring his words. He shook his head, his long, sun-yellow hair flowing around him like a swirling cape. He hoped the action would clear the nagging disquietude from his mind, but it did not.

  “Thanks to our Cydonian brothers and the Sirius technology we have gleaned from the damaged ship over the years,” he continued, swirling the wine in his crystal goblet before taking a long sip, “our power is greater than that of Atlantis. However, Cronus has far more troops than we do. A battle between us would only have one inevitable outcome.”

  “Yes,” Astraeus agreed, his deep-brown eyes turning almost black. “The assured destruction of the entire planet.”

  Chapter XII

  Zeus felt strangely disturbed and anxious as he sat on the front porch that spanned the entirety of his wood and stone home atop a green, grassy knoll overlooking Olympia. A cool, salty breeze blew inland from the gently rolling, turquoise waters of the bay which abated the shimmering heat from the bright afternoon sunshine. Fluffy white clouds drifted lazily across the azure sky, pleasantly shape-shifting with the changing wind currents high above. The dark verdant foliage
of the trees that bordered the sides and rear of the quaint, three-bedroom home was alive with multicolored birds that sang sweet love songs which filled his ears with their serene, melodic strains. All was peaceful, calm and refreshing after the tension of Nil. He should feel relaxed and happy, but he was not.

  “What troubles you so?” Adrastea asked, sitting in the curved, oak rocker to his right. She tossed her ebony hair over her gently sloping shoulders and sipped on her tall glass of iced green tea. She could feel the uneasiness radiating from her adopted son and could not quite understand it. She placed a long-fingered hand upon his arm as she spoke. “I thought all went well with Cronus.”

  “Yes, it did,” Zeus replied, nodding as he stared out at the soothing waters. He did not look at her or the others gathered out on the lawn setting up tables and brazing meats and vegetables over rock-enclosed fire pits. “I should feel relieved and happy, but the suddenness of Cronus’ departure bothers me.”

  The conference in Nil ended anti-climatically the day after the edgy festivities. Cronus sat across from his son but barely glanced in his direction. He seemed calm and composed without the angst of the night before. He listened quietly as Zeus explained that all he wanted for his people was to be free. He had no desire to intrude on Atlantean politics. All he asked for was the past to be forgotten and to be left in peace.

  “As long as you and your people stay away from Atlantis and our territories and do not spread dissent among our cities,” Cronus responded coolly and much to the surprise of everyone around the table, “I have no problem with that. However, should you, your agents or spies incite riots or uprisings, I shall use the full force of Atlantis to destroy you. Leave us alone and we shall leave you alone. That includes your Nephilim. Agreed?”