Gears of Troy: A Scifi Fantasy Harem

by Daniel Pierce

  None of his friends seemed too keen to challenge me any further at that point, so I took the opportunity to test out my grip. I dug my fingers into his neck deeper than I ever had on any man. His throat popped and he let go of his sword, flailing at my face, not able to do much from his compromised position. The flailing weakened, turning more to a gesture of desperate pleading before fading away altogether. His arms fell to the ground and his eyes rolled into his head. I stood up, still holding the sword—even admiring it for a moment—and turned my attention back to Helen after visual confirmation that the remaining three wanted nothing to do with me, which was a relief because I needed to catch my breath.

  The warrior Helen had grabbed moments before lay disemboweled at her feet. The other five had spread into a semicircle around her, their weapons held aloft. Her grin never faltered. She pointed her knife at each of them in turn, as if playing a game of Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Moe. She stopped on the last man and bolted toward him in a flash, ignoring any protests his spear may have had. By the time my eyes caught up to her, she was already standing nose-to-nose with the poor fool, a wicked blade impaled straight up into his head from below his chin. Before his eyes glazed over, she freed his bowels from their fleshy cage and let them fall to the ground. She was only having fun by that point, dissecting her victim like a lab rat. So beautiful, yet so dangerous, I mused.

  One of the remaining four made to pounce on her. He seemed to be just on the edge of her periphery, so I made a cautionary charge forward in case she didn’t notice him. When I was close enough to make a move, he burst into the air with his knife held overhead to meet her when he came down. I extended my new sword to intercept him, but Helen had the final word. In an instant, she spun around and jabbed both of her blades into the warrior while he was still in midair. One entered at the navel, and the other sliced through his clavicle. His dagger dropped as blood sprayed on us. Helen let her hand sink into the fresh gash in his stomach before allowing him to follow his dagger’s lead. She was clearly stronger than she looked.

  We exchanged approving glances. I noticed then that she was breathing as heavily as I was. The warriors near us backed away. I counted bodies—her dissected corpses, and my impaled adversaries. We had taken a total of six lives between us, and all in under two minutes. I had to wonder about her, but for me that was a new personal record.

  I briefly examined my hands, now covered in sticky red. I was told they were waterproof and hoped that applied to blood as well.

  Artession came forward without warning. I held my sword up, ready to end the whole dispute once and for all, but to my surprise he dropped to a knee and decisively proclaimed . . . something.

  “He says,” Helen translated, “that we are the best warriors he has ever witnessed. He is honored to pledge his fealty to us.”

  8

  Artession led us through the forest, his tribesmen following single-file behind us. The men in the rear hauled the bodies of the slain.

  Helen kept close to my side, trying to translate at the same speed with which the beast-man now spoke. He seemed to be a completely different person now that we had proven ourselves to him. I listened to some of what he was saying but kept getting lost in my own thoughts.

  “You do not listen,” Helen said. “What is on your mind?”

  I snapped back to reality, if that was what I could call the present situation. “Oh, uh, I’ve just been thinking. Artession said this island is called Santorini, right?”

  “Yes,” Helen said. Artession had taken a break from talking since I started. He looked at me from the corner of his eye, clearly interested in what I had to say.

  “I think I learned about this place in my time. Is there a volcano or a mountain here?”

  Helen translated and waited for Artession’s response. It was swift and certain.

  “Yes, there is,” she confirmed. “He says there is an old story about a time when it rained liquid fire that consumed the land. Its smoke is said to have blocked out the sky for many moons.”

  I couldn’t remember for sure, but I thought I heard of an eruption on the island some time close to the Trojan war, and this previous eruption Artession spoke of would surely have happened generations earlier. The Thirians had to be warned in case they were due for another.

  “It happens again,” I said. “Tell Artession he needs to get his people off the island. Sooner rather than later.”

  She relayed the message, and he addressed me in return, wide-eyed.

  “He is wanting to know how you can be sure this is to happen, Troy.”

  “I’m from a thousand years in the future.” As soon as I said it, I realized it was probably more like three thousand years, but I didn’t see why a small detail like that would have mattered. “Tell him that it might not erupt today or tomorrow—or even next year—but it will happen again, and if he wants to guarantee his people survive it, he will evacuate the island until after it’s done.”

  “He says he admits that it is hard to trust such a claim, no matter who it is coming from, but he trusts you and will follow wherever you want him to go. And his people will do the same.”

  Artession continued speaking, and she translated. “He says his people have nowhere to go and requests that he may join us. Is this well with you, Troy?”

  “Sounds to me like everything’s going to plan then, right?”

  She beamed and responded to him excitedly, taking time to fill me in between each exchange. “There will be plenty of room for his people in Ilium once we defeat the Greeks. I just told him this.” She continued, “He is saying that he and his people will be honored to fight alongside great warriors such as ourselves, whether or not their home is in danger.”

  “Do they have enough ships for everyone?” I asked.

  “Nearly enough,” Helen said. “With more being built as we are speaking. He says we will see them when we reach their village.”

  I nodded my approval.

  We marched on in silence. The news I had dropped on the chieftain was heavy, so it was understandable he needed some time to digest. After a time, we reached the edge of the forest and found ourselves on a cliff overlooking an inlet. We stopped and Artession pointed below, indicating seven ships sitting just out of reach of the water—one about the size of mine, and six smaller ones that were reminiscent of Viking warships. Well this is pretty fucking cool, I thought.

  “He says the large one and three of the longboats are ready for sea, while the other three are almost complete. He is wanting to know if they have enough time to finish them? They can probably do it in three days’ time if everyone commits.”

  “Tell him that, like I said, I’m not sure how long they have, but three days is probably fine. Just the sooner everyone is off the island, the better. We’ll help them, too.”

  “He says this is good news and that his people will be eager to meet the two of us. He asks if we may teach them some tricks to aide them in battle.”

  I laughed. “Tell him I would be happy to.”

  He pointed across the water and said something. I followed his finger and noticed for the first time a group of huts clustered together on a cliff opposite ours.

  “He says that is his village over there and that we must be hungry. The women will have dinner ready for us soon. We are invited to partake of the slain if it is our wish.”

  “The slain? Oh, right.” I glanced at the back of the line and thought how appetizing Daggers and Maniac looked from where I was standing. “Why do they eat people? Did he mention that earlier when I wasn’t listening?”

  She asked him and translated his response. “His people believe they will gain a warrior’s strength if they consume them. It is doubly good to eat their fellow tribesmen because it means that their family will always be a part of them, and in a way, they will live on.”

  Only for about twenty-four hours, I thought. I’d be lying if I acted like I never wondered how a person tasted, but it was going to be a hard pass for me. “I’ll think
about it.”

  9

  Helen and I stayed on Santorini for two days. Not only did we help them finish their ships, but Helen taught the Thirians Egyptian techniques to strengthen their hulls and conceal themselves at night, both lessons earning her enormous status with the entire village.

  I took time on both days to show the men some MMA moves and combat tricks I had picked up in the military. They were fast learners. I had to watch out for a few of them during practice. The one with no eyelids, who I learned was sensibly called Sees-All, came at me like he had something to prove. To my surprise, he got several decent shots in after the first few rounds. Between each sparring match, I would show each man where he could improve on his form, and Helen would translate if she wasn’t off helping with the ships. They were unexpectedly receptive to my guidance, and I was anticipating seeing them apply my teachings to the battlefield.

  “Hold your guard up.” I demonstrated to Sees-All what I meant before swinging at him in slow motion. He caught my arm inside the elbow as I intended. “Good, now you swing at me,” I motioned for emphasis.

  He did as I said, and this time I caught his arm inside the elbow joint. “Now take your other hand, grab the shoulder like me”—I firmly gripped his shoulder with my free hand—“and do this.” I drove my knee straight into his abdomen, making sure not to break anything.

  I waved one of the other men over. They knew the drill by then. The new guy ran in with the intent to harm, swinging at Sees-All as I had, but my man Sees-All exploded into action and pulled the stunt off about as well as anyone could. Everyone cheered as the other guy dropped to his knees. “Now I want to see each of you do that to at least one Greek!”

  On the morning of the third day, Artession led us back to my raft.

  “He says thank you for all that you have done, Troy Weston,” Helen translated. “Not only have you taught his people valuable skills that will prove worthy in combat, but you have likely aided in the survival of his kind for generations to come. He wonders if any of them would have survived if they were living on Santorini the next time the mountain rains liquid fire. His tone is quite respectful, I should add.”

  “It’s my pleasure,” I said. “And it is an honor to know you, and to have earned your respect.” I felt like I should have said more, but I didn’t know what else to say.

  “He says he will depart with his people before midday and that, on his honor, they will meet us in Ilium in several days’ time to help us fight off the Greek invaders or perish in the attempt. He now thinks of his people and our people as one and the same.”

  I extended my hand to shake, but he was unsure of what to do so he ended up just grabbing the back of my right hand with his left and we just awkwardly stood there looking into each other’s eyes for about thirty seconds or so.

  “All right then . . . uh, see you there, man.” Helen and I climbed into the raft and made for the Moonshadow.

  10

  I watched Santorini shrink into the distance. Helen and I had not spoken much since we boarded the Moonshadow. I had even more on my mind than when we arrived at the island, and I assumed she did as well.

  I decided to keep up the momentum that I’d gained over the past couple days and work the sails manually, keeping my hands active. I watched the flesh-metal hybrids carry out the commands from my mind, feeling as if my soul ended at the wrists. It was like they were little hand puppets, their actions empty, only brought to life through the puppeteer’s will. So strong, so capable, yet devoid of . . . me. They provided me with the kind of strength that every man dreams of, but it was completely artificial and unearned. They were nothing more than a gross over-compensation for a piece of me I had lost, and without them I wondered what kind of man I would amount to.

  Helen, too, watched the island fade until we could no longer see it. When it had finally disappeared, she approached me with a hum of joy about her. “I cannot wait to be a full human. I can feel it happening more and more with each passing day.” She was beaming like usual. “The air smells sweeter, the food tastes better. I wish I had words for it, but the feeling is like nothing I’ve known. I’m made new with each passing sunrise, I think.”

  I thought again of her as Pinocchio and looked at my puppet-hands, wondering where her soul ended in that gorgeous frame, if it even had a beginning. I had to believe there was something inside of her. A captain held a certain love and respect for his ship, but I had never come close to admiring a machine like I did Helen. The feeling was an impossibility made real from the touch of her hands to the scent of cinnamon when she stood close. Helen was not a machine, I was sure of it in my heart.

  “Why is it that you want to become a full human so badly?”

  “May I?” She reached for the ropes in my hands. I stepped aside and let her direct the sails before she continued, “Do you not love being a full human, Troy?”

  “Well, of course, but I don’t know any different. You’re lucky enough to have a taste of both worlds. I’m wondering what you think is so great about one over the other.”

  She did not take her eyes off the sails as she answered. “There are many reasons I think it is better to be a human than a machine. The most important of these reasons is free will. I want free will, which is a boast no machine can or ever will be able to claim.”

  “But you want it, so don’t you already have it, just by having the desire?”

  “This is true. Before the event that gave me my partial humanity, I had no desire to be human. It was not something programmed into me. My programmed purpose was to be Helen as best I could—that, and to serve my masters, the Pharaohs. I still want to be Helen, and I am unsure if this is my own will or the will of my creators. I think I will truly know once I am a full human.”

  I had to laugh a little at that. “I think you’re beginning to understand some of the complicated things about being human already. Most of us don’t really know what we want. I have to wonder if you’ll be any different once you get what you want. Once a person achieves one thing they’re after, they have to go after something else. Otherwise, life feels meaningless. I have to play the Devil’s Advocate and say that I know a lot of people who would gladly give up their humanity to become a machine with a very specific purpose. It might take away their free will, but it also takes out a lot of the guesswork, which many people would prefer.”

  “I am not one of those people, Troy. You must be speaking of the Greeks.” She turned to me with a smile and winked. “Real humans do not behave the way you describe. Real humans would fight and die for their freedom. This I know. Real humans have the power to change the world around them, and bend it to their will. My creation was a prime example of such a thing. I was constructed by real humans for a real purpose, an extension of their will. If the gods exist, they are walking here among us because they are us.”

  “Those are the words of a living woman,” I said. She spoke with such conviction, and I couldn’t argue with her. I thought of all the terrible things I knew humans were capable of, many of which I had witnessed firsthand. “What about all the bad things people have been responsible for? War, famine, genocide? Do you just think of all those people as Greeks, sub-human in a way? Surely many Trojans have done bad things in the past, right?”

  “This is true, but humans have done many good things as well. A machine is also capable of both good and evil. This relates to free will. As a human, I will have complete say in the direction of my life. I understand that not all things I do will be smiled upon, but anything I do is my choice alone. It does not matter to me what sins other humans have committed. What matters is that they were free to make those decisions.”

  “Helen . . .”

  “Yes, Troy?”

  “I think you’re one of the smartest women I’ve ever met, and I’d like to hear the rest of your reasons for wanting to be human after my nap.” I made for the steps to go below deck, head full of even more thoughts. I really needed to take some time to sort everything out befor
e we touched down at Ilium.

  She beamed, her gaze still focused on the sails. “I will be happy to speak at length with you about it later. I wish you the sweetest of dreams, Troy, and hope you find me in one.” She was certainly a girl who knew what she wanted. I’m sure you’ll be there, Helen, I thought. I’m sure you will.

  I didn’t get much sleep, but I didn’t really expect to. I soon found myself lying back, getting friendly with the peanut butter, and thinking about where I was exactly.

  Surely, I thought, there would have been evidence of advanced Egyptian technology in my time. Conspiracy theorists always talked about that kind of stuff, but no one else, me included, took them seriously. Yet there I was, supposedly thousands of years in the past, talking to a beautiful Egyptian android who was going through an intense identity crisis. If I assumed what I was experiencing was in fact real and not just some hallucination brought on by a coma after the storm, I had to question where I was, and not just when I was. I’d heard from a friend years ago of a theory that mankind existed infinitely many times across the universe, and that we were all just a random chance configuration of molecules in space. There were supposedly some eggheads who came up with equations to describe the distance someone would likely have to travel to come across another “Earth” in such a scenario. It all sounded like a bunch of wishy-washy waste-of-time what-if’s back when it was first explained to me, but it was seeming more and more plausible as I considered it. If that were the case, and I was on some Alternate Earth, it would make sense that not all things were consistent with my Earth. I added the thought to my list of mental bookmarks.