Lords of Kobol - Prelude: Of Gods and Titans

by Edward T. Yeatts III

didn't let go. After one final croak, Hippolitos collapsed onto his face.

  "Hermes," Hades said. "Hermes, he's dead."

  Finally, the thin Olympian released the bar, allowing it to fall to the floor loudly. Hermes slowly dismounted the body and crawled over to Hades. He was about to speak when his nostrils flared and he turned his head toward the pungent odors. "Damn it."

  A single tear ran down Hades' face. He looked toward Hera and shook his head. "Oh, no."

  "Can you walk?"

  Hades placed one foot flat upon the floor and tried to stand on it. He got about halfway up before he grunted and fell back. "No."

  Hermes nodded and said, "I can go get help. First, I think I should see if anyone else upstairs needs me."

  Hades said, "Go. I'll be fine." Hermes put his hand on Hades' shoulder and left the room. He leaned back against the leg of a table and closed his eyes. How will I tell Zeus? He took a few deep breaths before he finally winced and vainly tried to shoo the smells away. He heard someone in the hallway and turned to see who it was.

  Hermes came running back into the room. In a loud hush, he said, "Hide!" He darted between tables and crouched behind a chair.

  Hades turned and began to struggle to get under a table. He looked toward the door and saw nothing. He heard nothing. He looked for Hermes and said, "Who was it? What did you see?"

  With a quick whisper, a metal pole sailed through the air and pierced Hades' chest. He jerked and looked down toward it. Hermes leapt and screamed, "No!"

  Hades wrapped his hand around the pole, just below his breastbone. He slowly nodded his head and said, "I can fix it. I can fix it."

  A two-meter tall behemoth stepped into the room, ducking beneath the door frame. He walked up behind Hades and lifted the pole at the small of his back. With a groan, Hades rose into the air. The giant placed his huge hand on one side of Hades' face and spun it around. After a sharp crack from his neck, Hades limply slid from the pole and to the floor.

  Hermes staggered away from his hiding place and stared at his friend's body. When he looked at the newest, largest attacker, the giant's eyes were closed and his head was turned to one side as though he was experiencing some sort of spell or prolonged tic. Finally, he shook his head and blinked like he had just been awakened.

  "Much better," he said.

  Hermes took a step backward and asked, "Who are you?"

  He was about to answer when the distant sound of machine gun fire interrupted. "Hmmmm. Leaving." He dropped the pole to the floor and it clattered away. With a few strides, he was out of the room.

  Hermes slowly walked across the bay toward Hades. His large, vacant eyes told him it was too late. Then he looked over at Hera's charred form. He buried his face in his hands and wept.

  LXXVIII

  CYLONS

  8 Years Before the End

  In the port city formerly known as Ofun, Cylons did as they wished. The Tiberian buildings of decades ago were collapsing and rotten. A hurricane had damaged many and time took care of the rest.

  The Cylons didn't notice. They cared about buildings only when a storm approached. They cared about power only when they wanted a boost. They cared only for their whims.

  Many of them walked in the streets, yelling and singing. Some adorned themselves with polymers and ceramics. One Cylon created an enormous body for itself, about ten meters tall. There were several base units, too.

  Base units were the newest natives. They were fresh from the facilities near the Majellan Mountains where the resources were recently discovered. Without coverings and appearing only as shiny skeletons, the bases wandered the cities staring at all they saw. They would take their time to absorb all they could before deciding on a name for themselves and then deciding how to best express themselves.

  "What is this?" one base asked another.

  "It is ocean," was the response.

  The first base unit dipped its hand into the water and lifted it out quickly. It leaned over and watched the water drip from its structure. "I like ocean." It turned and looked toward the shore. Cylons sat on the sand and their eyes circled very slowly as they tapped into the Matrix. Many among the machines spent most of their days there.

  "What is that?" the other unit asked.

  It pointed to a vehicle that drove to the old dock. It stopped and two large Cylons emerged. They wore rigid metal robes that formed a cowl around their heads and puffed out at their shoulders. They walked in unison along the length of the dock and stood near the end. The base units tilted their heads to aim their microphones at them.

  "They are not here."

  "It is the appointed time."

  There was a pause. "Why has the Council of Five agreed to meet with Tiberia a fourth time?"

  "I do not endeavor to understand the will of the Council."

  "They were our masters."

  "They also gave us freedom. And this island."

  "They did." Another pause. "They approach."

  The base units didn't see what the representatives saw for several moments. They looked toward the horizon and spied several ships.

  "What are those?" a base asked another.

  "I do not know."

  Minutes later, several of the ships fanned out and took up positions along the coast. A smaller vessel slowed and moved closer to the docks. The two base units were buffeted by the waves and tried to walk back to the beach. When they finally got to shore, they heard the thud of a large plank being lowered to the dock.

  "Welcome to Gela," one of the repsentatives said with its arms outstretched.

  Four humans in similar dress came down the plank first and looked all around the beach. They said nothing in response.

  The base units heard high-pitched engine noises in the distance and looked toward the other ships nearby. Even smaller vessels had departed them and were traveling to the coast.

  A representative asked, "May we escort you to Thera?"

  A tall human answered, "No."

  The other humans raised large rifles and fired once at the representatives. The projectiles impacted the Cylons' heads and exploded, splitting their metal skulls and tearing the rigid foil of their robes. The sound echoed along the shore. All Cylons nearby turned to look at the dock, even those who had been on the Matrix.

  The four humans stepped away from the plank and one said, "Now." Tens, then hundreds of humans in armor ran from the ship and onto the dock. They lined the sides and aimed their weapons at every Cylon within range.

  The base units walked across the sand away from the dock and toward a group of stunned Cylons. "What is happening?" one of the bases asked.

  "I do not know," was the answer from one particularly lithe model covered with glowing lights.

  The Cylons turned and began to walk along the beach. As they did, they saw that the smaller vessels had landed and disgorged their occupants.

  They were soldiers, covered in dull gray metal. On their flat faces were two arcs on either side where a dim light bounced up and down. Their weapons were raised and their joints creaked as they walked.

  "Target," someone behind them said.

  The machine men aimed their rifles at the Cylons and stopped walking.

  "Fire."

  Thirty metal soldiers squeezed their triggers and sprayed the crowd of Cylons with their explosive bullets. The base units were smaller and behind several others who fell in their path. In their naiveté, they simply stared at their fallen brethren and wondered what was happening. Projectiles struck them soon after and their young bodies were torn apart.

  Once all of the Cylons in that group were down, the human behind the mechanized infantry squad spoke into his device again. "Walk." These dumbed-down automatons relaxed their weapons and began to march along the beach. In his thick synthetic armor, the control sergeant was concealed in their midst and he moved slowly, watching his screen.

  Offshore, an aircraft
carrier launched several fighters. More landing craft came ashore and troop transports docked along Ofun's old ports. The invasion of Gela had begun.

  LXXIX

  LETO

  8 Years Before the End

  "Stop staring," Selene said.

  Leto was shaken from her gaze and said, "What?"

  "You've been looking at him all day," Selene answered. She glanced over at the sleeping man and said, "Don't think no one else has noticed."

  Leto lowered her head. "I'm worried about him."

  "We all are. Not like that, though."

  Leto turned and looked at the figures on her screen. Only ninety-seven percent finished. "He lost his wife and brother."

  "I know," Selene said. "I've tried talking to him, but he says he isn't ready yet." She went to sit by Leto, but her holster caught on the edge of the table. She rolled her eyes and repositioned it.

  "When did you get that?" Leto asked.

  "Yesterday. I finished my training. You?"

  Leto shook her head. "I've been busy studying the bodies."

  "Bia said it's mandatory."

  "I know." She straightened her chair and said, "I understand. We need to be ready in case they attack again."

  Metis walked over from her workstation and spoke softly, "Did you hear anything from Arcas?"

  "No, but I talked to Ares." Selene leaned forward and continued, "Attican officials told him the gyrocraft was from Assuria."

  Metis nodded and said, "Hyperion's the praetor there."

  "The weapons, though, were from Alabor."

  Metis seemed confused and then nodded. "Theia."

  Leto asked, "It's all of the Titans, isn't it? Not just Cronus?" Selene sighed. "Is it because of our campaigns in the Tiberian