Justin looked at the man in surprise but nodded. “Yes sir, of course.” He tried to get to his feet smoothly, but almost fell over. He grabbed Aaron by the shoulder to steady himself, then let go and stood on his own.
“Mr. Fitzgerald, I really don't think Justin is in any condition to go walking around right now,” Aaron told the man with a frown.
“I'm sorry, but it's rather important. I'll have him back as quickly as I can and I will try not to let him overexert himself.” Mr. Fitzgerald turned his back on Aaron and walked out into the hallway. He stood there and waited for Justin to join him.
“I'll be fine, Aaron,” he told his friend who was still staring at Mr. Fitzgerald with an angry look on his face. “I'll be back soon.”
“Fine,” Aaron replied through his teeth. “But if you start getting weak or dizzy, make sure you tell him. And get back here as soon as you can!”
“Yes, mother,” Justin said and grinned widely at Aaron's scowl. After a few seconds, his friend smiled slightly.
“Don't be such a smart-ass. Now get going before Mr. Fitzgerald gets mad.”
Justin waved and joined Mr. Fitzgerald in the hallway.
“Thank you for joining me, Justin,” the man said as they set off down the hall toward the courtyard. “I know you need to rest but there's something that I've been meaning to show you and, since the attack, I think it is even more important that you see it.”
“Yes sir,” Justin panted as he struggled to keep with Mr. Fitzgerald's long stride.
They made their way through the courtyard, where Justin saw that any evidence of the attack had been repaired. No one was sitting around the fountain and he wondered briefly if the others were nervous of sitting here since the invasion.
He did not have much time to think and concentrated on keeping his feet as they descended the steps that led to the Ocular room. At the base of the stairs though, they did not turn toward that room but continued straight ahead. Justin realized that they were heading toward the water portal that had led them to several areas in Sanctuary.
Once they were standing in front of the waterfall again, Mr. Fitzgerald turned to look at Justin.
“Catch your breath, lad,” he said kindly. “Are you okay? We can go back if you wish.”
Justin would rather have collapsed than admit to the man that he was tired so he just shook his head and continued to breathe deeply.
“Excellent.” Mr. Fitzgerald reached out and touched the water, which turned cloudy. “We are heading into the bowels of Sanctuary. The portal will take several seconds to transport us. Please don't be alarmed by this. Just be patient and we will arrive safe and sound. Are you ready?” Justin nodded. “Very well. In you go.”
Justin took a deep breath and stepped forward into the water. As usual, he did not get wet, but he wasn't immediately transported to another location and he was glad that Mr. Fitzgerald had warned him. He might have felt more nervous than he did. He counted seconds in his head. As he slowly reached ten, there was a flash and he was standing ankle deep in sand, with a hot dry wind blowing around him.
He blinked several times as gritty sand swept past his face, and then turned slowly and looked around, his eyes almost closed.
He was in yet another dome-shaped space. This one was large, as most of Sanctuary's rooms were, but the floor was covered with fine powdery sand that was constantly swirling in a wind that had no source that Justin could see. The walls that stretched up over his head and met in a dome were the same rusty color as the sand and Justin could not really tell where the floor ended and the walls began. There were no doors and, to Justin's surprise, no sign of a return portal. How will we get out of here, he wondered.
With a flash, Mr. Fitzgerald was standing several feet away. He looked at Justin and nodded.
“You are calm, Mr. McLeod. That's good. Others who have visited here seem much more nervous.”
“Where are we, sir?” Justin asked.
“In a place where only a handful of people have ever been, lad. Only the leader of Sanctuary can come and go here with impunity. It has various names but I call it the Hall of Remembrance.”
“Remembering what, sir?” Justin asked. He looked around again, puzzled by the idea that a sandy round room would be constructed to remember anything.
Mr. Fitzgerald chuckled. “Not remembering, exactly, Mr. McLeod. Perhaps recalling would be a more appropriate term. From here, if you know how, you can look back into the past. You can see those who came before. You can examine historic events. You can even, under certain conditions, communicate with those who have passed on.”
Justin's eyes widened, even with sand swirling by them. “But how, sir?”
“I will show you in a moment. Come, let's walk over to the wall.” He led the way and Justin struggled to follow, becoming more and more tired as he slogged through the deep, slippery sand.
Once they had reached the wall, Mr. Fitzgerald turned and indicated the center of the room. “That is where the past will reveal itself, Mr. McLeod. As to what we will see, well, it concerns you actually.”
“Me, sir? But I'm no one important. And looking at my past will be very boring.”
The man chuckled. “Not your past, Justin. But past events that concern you. Or rather, concern the heir of Cronus. And that happens to be you. Now watch.”
Justin looked at Mr. Fitzgerald. Once again, he did not see the man reach for a pendant and his wrists were bare. How does he control any powers without either of those to channel his commands, he wondered.
Mr. Fitzgerald raised his arms and looked out into the blowing sands. He did not speak but Justin became aware that the sound of blowing sand was fading. He looked out at the room and watched in awe as the sand was now moving, twisting and turning into patterns and shapes, rising up from the ground. He gaped as walls were formed, trees and plants arose and before his eyes a town or village came into being. The sand changed color and texture and suddenly he and Mr. Fitzgerald were standing at the edge of a community of some sort.
People were walking around, chatting, laughing. Children ran and played. A cool breeze smelling of salt blew past Justin's nose and he breathed deeply.
He turned, expecting to see the wall behind him but instead he saw more buildings and trees. He looked up at Mr. Fitzgerald, who smiled down at him.
“Where are we, sir?” he asked anxiously.
“This is Atlantis, lad. Just months before she sank into the ocean forever.”
Justin gasped. “Atlantis?” He looked all around and between two buildings he saw the glinting of the sun off of the sea. “But, why are we here?”
“Come with me and I will show you.” The man set off and Justin hurried to keep up. He tried to avoid bumping into any buildings or people, but as they turned a corner, a girl hurrying along carrying a basket under her arm ran right into him. Justin saw a spray of sand and felt grit shower over him. He turned and watched in shock as the sand reformed and coalesced back into the girl, who continued on and disappeared into a crowd.
Justin turned back and hurried on, trying to keep up with Mr. Fitzgerald who seemed not to have noticed the collision. Finally, ahead Justin could hear raised voices and shouting. It sounded like a lot of people. He and Mr. Fitzgerald emerged into what must be the city center. It was packed with people, all of them facing a building that towered over the square. Huge steep steps led up from the ground to the building above and standing at the base of the steps was a very large man.
Mr. Fitzgerald led Justin through the crowd and they finally stood near the bottom of the steps and looked at the man. He was standing with his hands on his hips, glaring up the stairs, his face a mask of fury. Justin felt a shock course down his spine. He knew that face. It was Hyperion.
He was wearing the same armor that he had on in his portrait and his expression was quite similar to the face in the picture.
There were guards standing at the edge of each step. None of them were looking at Hyperion, but Justin could
see that each one had a hand on a weapon. And each one wore a titanium bracelet on his or her wrist. Hyperion did not. But he had a spear strapped to his back.
“You recognize him, Mr. McLeod?” Mr. Fitzgerald asked quietly.
“Yes sir, I do. But what is going on here?”
“We are about to see the beginning of the end of Atlantis. And of the Titans.”
“But why...?” Justin began to ask but Mr. Fitzgerald held up a hand for silence and pointed up the steps.
Justin gasped. Hyperion was big, so big he towered over those around him. But walking down the stairs was the largest being that Justin had ever seen. The only thing he could compare this person to were the Sentinels. But they weren't alive.
The Titan, for that is what he had to be, Justin thought, was walking slowly down the steps, his eyes focused on Hyperion. He had to be twelve feet tall and he was wearing armor. He had a long black beard and a small sickle hung from his belt. Justin watched him with awe.
“Cronus,” he whispered aloud
“Yes, Justin. Cronus.” Mr. Fitzgerald was staring up at the giant and Justin saw to his surprise that the man seemed to have tears in his eyes.
Both of them watched as Cronus descended until he stood two steps above Hyperion. The square was now silent. No one even coughed. No children cried. The wind had ceased to blow.
“So, you've deigned to see me at last, oh noble brother,” Hyperion snarled.
Cronus merely looked at him for a long moment. Justin saw no anger or malice in his face, just a deep sadness. And where Hyperion's face showed an almost animal-like cruelty and hatred, Cronus had a nobility about him that even his sadness couldn't conceal.
“I have duties, my brother,” Cronus finally said, his deep voice ringing over the crowd. “You have always been welcome in court. Why did you wish to meet here, in the open like this?”
“Why?” Hyperion laughed maniacally. He sounded slightly mad. “Because I wanted witnesses. I don't trust you, my oh so pure brother. I wanted the people to hear your decision from your own lips. I want them to hear you pronounce their doom.”
“Their doom?” Cronus merely lifted an eyebrow. “There is no doom, brother. The humans have no chance of taking Atlantis. Any attack on us would be futile.”
“Futile? You are a fool, Cronus! They will overwhelm us in sheer numbers. If we kill a thousand, two thousand more will come against us. If we kill a million, twice that number will strike back. We must eradicate these vermin now, while they are preparing for war.” Hyperion panted with rage as he glared at his brother. Cronus was now frowning.
“We will not kill a thousand, Hyperion. We will not kill any.” There was a sudden sound from the crowd. Many of them were now muttering amongst themselves.
“You hear that, brother?” Hyperion waved at the crowd behind him. “They do not share your weak concern for the lives of these pests.” He took a step toward the stairs and Justin heard the ringing of metal as a dozen weapons were drawn by the guards on the stairs. He stopped abruptly and glanced left and right. His face turned pale but the look of fury did not fade.
“You will destroy Atlantis unless you act now!” Hyperion lowered his voice. “And if you do not act, then someone else will.”
Now Cronus quickly walked down the last two steps and stood over his brother. His eyes were no longer a placid blue. They had somehow turned coal red and as he looked down at Hyperion he seemed to grow even larger. “Are you threatening to start a civil war, brother? If you are, speak plainly. And we can end this, here and now.”
The crowd had fallen back as Cronus had advanced. Even Hyperion shrank back.
“I did not say I would do it, brother. But if you push people too far, they will eventually defend themselves.” His voice sounded less threatening and more whiny, Justin thought and he looked at Hyperion with disgust.
“And I have said that the people have no need to defend themselves. Not all humans hate us, as you and the people know well. Many are our friends, many work for us. We trade with many. These others are merely the jealous, the weak, the rabble. We have nothing to fear from them.” Cronus place his hands on his hips. His eyes had faded to blue once more and he stared down at his brother. “You have had your audience, Hyperion. I do not think we will need to speak to each other for a while.” And with that, he turned and walked slowly up the stairs again.
Justin watched the crowd disperse and Hyperion slunk away, but not before he gave one last glare of hatred at his brother's back. Then the scene became blurry, there was a sound of rushing sand and Justin and Mr. Fitzgerald were standing in the middle of the sand-covered dome once more.
Justin realized that Mr. Fitzgerald was watching him. “He made a mistake, didn't he? Cronus, I mean.”
To Justin's surprise, the man shook his head. “No Justin, he made two. He underestimated both the threat of the humans and of his brother. Cronus was a being of peace. He believed in the better nature of others, even against the judgment of trusted councilors. What we just saw was the moment when things turned against Cronus and the Titan race. It was the beginning of the end.”
“But why did you show me this, sir? Not that I minded,” he added hastily. “But I learned all of this from Ghelena.”
“There were several reasons that we came here, Mr. McLeod. The first was to show you that even a being as powerful and good as Cronus has a weak spot. And it can be exploited by others, if one does not acknowledge it and find a way past it. Bear that lesson in mind at all times; one day it may be useful. The second we will see in a moment. Let's walk back to the wall again.”
The two moved back to the edge of the sand. Mr. Fitzgerald looked at Justin. “I want to go back to something a little more recent. An event that happened a few months ago, in point of fact. I was not satisfied with the report I received about it and I've decided to see what happened for myself.”
“But what's that got to do with me, sir?” Justin asked in confusion.
“You'll see in a moment, lad,” the man said and he raised his arms again. Justin watched enthralled as the sand once again began to move and swirl, raising walls, making rooms. He realized that this time they were inside a building. In a hallway somewhere. As he watched the sand change its consistency and color, he recoiled in shock as he recognized the setting.
They were standing in the hallway outside of his apartment. The sun was pouring through the large window at the end of the corridor, reflecting off of the dust motes that drifted gently through the light.
Justin turned and stared at Mr. Fitzgerald. “What are we doing here?” he asked loudly. He staggered slightly as the hallway shook. A bang echoed through the building. “This is the day I was attacked! I don't want to be here!” He glared at Mr. Fitzgerald who gazed back at him placidly.
“Calm yourself, Justin. Remember, these events have already happened. This is simply a recreation.”
“I don't care! Don't you know what happened here? Do you really want to see Wilson...” But he couldn't go on. He could not stand by and watch Wilson give his life again. And yet he seemed rooted to one spot. The corridor shook again, more violently and another loud bang could be heard.
“I don't want to see him harmed either, Justin. But before we leave, let's just see what happened before the attackers entered your apartment, shall we?”
Justin's anger was replaced by confusion. “What? But what's that got to do with anything?”
“Perhaps nothing.” Mr Fitzgerald turned his head and looked down the hallway toward the stairs. Justin could hear many pairs of feet running up from the lobby. “Ah, here they come. We'll soon find out.”
As they rounded the banister at the top of the stairs, Justin stepped back in surprise. They weren't Titans. These men were dressed in army fatigues and wearing helmets. But none of them carried a gun. Instead, they were holding long batons with a glittering piece of metal on one end.
“What's going on? Who are they?” he asked frantically.
“Gover
nment forces, Justin,” Mr. Fitzgerald replied. “Interesting.”
“But what...” Justin stopped speaking as the group reached his door. There were six of them. All large men. They huddled closely together for a moment and Justin and Mr. Fitzgerald moved closer to watch.
“Remember, we have to take the kid alive.” A man wearing two stripes on each shoulder spoke up. Justin assumed that this was the leader. “Orders are that the woman is not to be touched, no matter what. Understood?” There were grunts of assent. “Also, whether we get the boy or not, we get the old man. And if any of you injure him too badly, you will answer to the Colonel. Now, get that door open.”
Justin watched numbly as two of the team unpacked a long metal cylinder and smashed the door open. He heard Wilson howling in rage and watched in satisfaction as two of the attackers went down. But the others used their batons on him and Justin felt sickened as he realized that they were electrified. Wilson finally collapsed and the leader checked his pulse as the others searched the apartment.
Justin edged past them and looked in on his mother. She was sitting up on the couch and trembling. He knew that it was mostly willpower that kept her upright and a surge of hatred coursed through him. He wanted to batter and smash the men and he even swung at one of them. But his fist just passed through the sand, which reformed behind it.
“The kid's gone,” one of the men announced to the leader, who just shrugged.
“We were told to expect it. But at least we've got the old man.” He looked down the hall toward the living room. “How's the woman?”
“Fine, chief. Didn't say a word after that first scream. Guess she doesn't want to talk to us,” he snickered. The leader grabbed the other by the front of his jacket and slammed him into the wall. Justin watched with satisfaction. “Did you touch her?” he hissed at the man.
“No! No sir!” the man choked, his hands locked on his leader's wrist. “None of us went near her!” Suddenly he was released and he staggered away several feet, putting some space between himself and the leader.
The Return of the Titans Page 21
