Beyond the Odyssey

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Beyond the Odyssey Page 9

by Maz Evans


  Hypnos winked at Elliot.

  ‘Too bally right I do,’ said Zeus. ‘Right, then – Virgo, you find us a way out of here.’

  ‘Well, we’re on an island,’ said Elliot. ‘We’re going to have to go by sea . . .’

  ‘NO!’ roared Zeus. ‘Absolutely no sea! Let’s go. Elliot and Hypnos, you’re with me.’

  ‘Laters!’ said Hypnos, waggling his fingers at Virgo as he followed Zeus and Elliot across the meadow.

  Virgo watched them go.

  ‘Right,’ she said. ‘I’m sure if I just reason with the airline staff – after all, the plane has to go back anyway, and if they would just—’

  The rest of her idea was lost to the roar of an engine as their plane took off into the sunshine.

  She looked helplessly up at the sky.

  ‘Snordlesnot,’ she muttered under her breath.

  12. Keeping an Eye Out . . .

  Elliot’s mind hadn’t stopped whirring for the twenty-four hours they’d been travelling. How did he know that Panacea’s potion actually existed? And how was he going to persuade Zeus to get in the sea? Zeus trusted Hypnos about as far as he could throw him – which, in fairness, would be pretty far – but Elliot believed the Daemon of Sleep. Hypnos had no reason to lie. Did he? Or was Elliot just hearing what he wanted to believe from a Daemon? It wouldn’t be the first time.

  But no potion would be any use if Thanatos destroyed humanity with the Chaos Stones, so Elliot tried to focus his mind on the task ahead – getting the Water Stone. He’d read up on the Cyclops Polyphemus in What’s What on the way – he was the one-eyed monster that Odysseus had tricked on his voyage. He was a vicious, violent giant who loathed Gods, mortals and water.

  So Elliot was feeling super-confident about rocking up at his cave with the King of the Gods . . .

  But, to give the Cyclopes their due, they knew a pretty place to live. The sun-drenched island was idyllic, with flocks of sheep and cows feeding on the lush grass and fragrant flowers of the verdant rolling pastures. It was warm without being hot, and breezy without being cold. If it weren’t for the flesh-eating giants, Elliot reflected, it would be a nice place to live.

  ‘Just a jiffy,’ said Zeus, as they passed a hut with a sign saying Maro’s. ‘Need to nip in here for a pressie – won’t be a second.’

  ‘Take all the time you need, big guy,’ said Hypnos.

  ‘Hmmmm,’ growled Zeus.

  The moment Zeus disappeared into the shop, Hypnos grabbed Elliot’s shoulders and started chattering at top speed.

  ‘Right – listen to me. You are a security expert called Mypu.’

  ‘What?’ said Elliot.

  ‘Go with me on this,’ said the Daemon. ‘You’ve come here to install an update for Polyphemus’s security systems.’

  ‘But I haven’t got a clue about . . . whatever you just said,’ said Elliot. ‘You do it – you can dissemble.’

  ‘Our survey said uh-uh,’ said Hypnos. ‘After he was blinded by Odysseus, Polyphemus had a top-of-the-range digital eye installed. It can see through dissemblers – I told you, paranoid . . .’

  ‘But I can’t—’

  ‘Shhhh. Grandad’s back.’

  ‘Top-hole,’ said Zeus, winking and shaking a brown paper bag. ‘I’ve got everything we need. Let’s go!’

  They made their way through the bucolic landscape until they came to a cave in the nook of a hillside. It was a simple dwelling, covered in grass and flowers, with a small wooden door. Elliot was reminded of a picture from a sappy fairy book. Not that he’d ever read one.

  ‘Some security,’ muttered Elliot, as Zeus raised a fist to bang on the door.

  ‘I really think you should let me try—’ said Hypnos.

  ‘Stand aside,’ said Zeus. ‘Leave this to the professional.’

  ‘Suit yourself,’ said Hypnos, leaning against the hillside as Zeus pounded on the wooden door.

  At Zeus’s touch, all the flowers surrounding the cave’s entrance swung around to reveal small eye-shaped cameras at the centre of their petals. A nearby toadstool opened up to reveal a screen inside.

  ‘No junk mail,’ growled a voice over the intercom.

  ‘Polyphemus!’ boomed Zeus. ‘It’s me, Uncle Zeus. I was just in the neighbourhood and thought I’d pay you a visit! Look – I bought a bottle of Maro’s finest nectar. Thought we could pop it open, chat about the good old days!’

  ‘I don’t drink any more,’ said the voice. ‘Nectar impairs judgement, damages the organs and puts drinkers at severe risk of karaoke. Stand on the X, please.’

  Elliot now noticed a dusty X scratched into the path. Zeus took a step backwards until he was in the centre.

  ‘Initiating full body scan,’ intoned a computer voice.

  ‘What the—?’

  But before the King of the Gods could object further, a wreath of spring flowers flew overhead and encircled his body. A computer-generated image appeared on the toadstool screen.

  Status: Immortal, God

  Weaponry: Thunderbolts – not detected

  Body mass: Ample – mostly fat

  ‘How dare you!’ roared Zeus. ‘It’s all muscle . . .’

  Predicted threat level: 164 per cent

  ACCESS DENIED

  And with that, the X upon which Zeus stood shot out of the ground, propelling him across the meadow until he landed in large pile of animal droppings.

  ‘Very professional,’ giggled Hypnos, approaching the door. ‘Listen, Zeusy – why don’t you go and get your thunderbolts sorted – if this goes south, we might need them . . .’

  ‘I’m not leaving Elliot with you!’ said Zeus. ‘How do I know he’s safe?’

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ said Elliot. ‘And I’d feel a lot safer knowing you had your thunderbolts handy . . .’

  ‘All right,’ sighed Zeus. ‘But first we need to get you inside.’

  ‘Watch and learn, old-timer,’ said Hypnos, standing on the X. ‘Oh, Polyphemus! It’s your old buddy Hypnos!’

  Once again, the wreath of flowers encircled the intruder.

  Status: Immortal, Daemon

  Weaponry: Sleep trumpet – not detected

  But as trustworthy as a second-hand

  chariot salesman

  Body mass: Lean – well-suited for

  quick escapes

  ‘Too kind!’ winked Hypnos, taking a small bow.

  Predicted threat level: 2,673 per cent

  ACCESS DENIED

  Hypnos leapt elegantly off the X before it had time to fire him over to Zeus.

  ‘Hypnos!’ said the voice more pleasantly. ‘So good to see you!’

  ‘You too, Polyphemus, me old mucker!’ squealed Hypnos. ‘You gonna let in an old friend?’

  ‘Ha – we do go way back,’ laughed the Cyclops. ‘Which is precisely why you’re staying out there, you old devil!’

  ‘Listen – I’ve brought someone you must meet,’ said Hypnos, pushing Elliot forward. ‘This guy is the world’s foremost authority on security. He’s protected all the world’s most important treasures. The Mona Lisa. Fort Knox. The Colonel’s secret recipe . . .’

  ‘Er, I’m here to update your security systems,’ said Elliot uncertainly, as Hypnos had instructed. ‘I’m . . . Mypu.’

  ‘On the X, please.’

  Elliot looked over at Zeus, who was cursing and wiping the dung from his Hawaiian shirt. Elliot had already endured one uncomfortable flight today. He seriously didn’t feel like a second.

  Hypnos winked and Elliot cautiously stood on the X as the floral wreath scanned his body.

  Status: Mortal, child

  Weaponry: Negative

  Body mass: Puny

  Predicted threat level: 7.6 per cent

  ACCESS GRANTED

  Elliot breathed a sigh of relief. He heard a series of locks clunk open from within the cave – he lost count as the endless symphony of metal clanked from inside the door. How could such a tiny door need so many locks?

  His qu
estion was answered as the entire side of the hill slowly slid open.

  ‘I dread to think what’ll happen when he tries to sell the place,’ Hypnos tutted. ‘It’s got zero kerb appeal . . .’

  Elliot looked into the mouth of the massive dark cavern. Now he felt that Zeus had got the better end of the deal.

  ‘Go on, Mypu,’ said Hypnos a little too loudly. ‘Get to it!’

  Elliot nodded his head slowly as he remembered Hypnos’s instructions. He was Mypu, the world’s foremost security expert, who could protect anything. Not Elliot Hooper, who lost his entire PE kit six months ago.

  He took a tentative step into the dark cave. With all the chaos at Home Farm, he often longed to be alone. But now felt like a bad time to start. He looked back at Hypnos.

  ‘You’ll be fine,’ whispered the Daemon. ‘He’s a pussycat really.’

  ‘Right,’ said Elliot uncertainly, looking at the huge footprints in the dirt beneath his feet.

  ‘I’m going to find us some weapons – I’ll be straight back with a pocket full of thunderbolts,’ Zeus said nervously. ‘Be careful, Elliot!’

  ‘And just make sure you don’t disturb the others,’ said Hypnos quickly, as the door started to close behind him. ‘They’d gobble you up like a teenage tasting platter. See ya!’

  ‘Wait a minute!’ cried Elliot, trying to stop the door. ‘What do you mean—?’

  The hillside slammed back into place, leaving the King of the Gods in a cloud of ‘Snordlesnot’s outside.

  ‘Great,’ said Elliot.

  ‘SHOW YOURSELF!’ roared a voice in the darkness. Elliot’s breath caught as the ground shook slightly beneath him. A tiny red dot was coming towards him, growing with every thundering footstep. Elliot could hear a mechanical sound, like a robot moving its arms, as the light got closer and higher, flitting around the cave. Suddenly, it shone directly down on him, blinding him with its fierce red glare.

  ‘Are you alone?’ whispered a voice.

  Elliot put his hand up to shield himself from the light. As his eyes adjusted, he could just make out the figure standing before him. He was a giant – not Jack and the Beanstalk league, but a solid three metres tall. At first he appeared to be very bulky, covered in bulging muscles. But as his eyesight sharpened, Elliot could see that the Cyclops’s natural bulk was enhanced by substantial padding all around him – knee pads, elbow pads, shin pads – even a nose pad. A helmet protected his massive head, which was dominated by a single digital eye in the centre.

  ‘Er, yeah,’ Elliot replied, moving out of the eye’s beam.

  ‘And you’re not carrying anything?’ said the voice nervously.

  ‘No – you scanned me, remember?’

  ‘I mean, like germs – you haven’t got a cold?’

  ‘Nope,’ Elliot sniffed.

  ‘Any rashes?’

  ‘Not that I’m aware of,’ said Elliot honestly. It had been a while since he’d showered.

  ‘You’re up to date on all your vaccinations?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Elliot, wondering what they were.

  ‘OK, good,’ said the Cyclops. ‘I’m Polyphemus.’

  ‘Nice to meet you,’ said Elliot, holding out his hand.

  ‘Oh . . . let’s not,’ said Polyphemus, squirting some antibacterial spray on Elliot’s hands before pulling his own out of reach. ‘You can’t be too careful. Around seventy per cent of common illnesses are spread through hands that have touched everyday surfaces. Come on through.’

  He led Elliot through the darkness, until they came to a small door at the back of the vast cave. Elliot worried about what would be on the other side. What kind of dark, skeleton-filled dwelling would a Cyclops inhabit? The door creaked open. He shut his eyes and walked through.

  But when he opened them, he found himself in a quaint cottage kitchen.

  ‘Would you like a vegetable smoothie?’ said Polyphemus, gesturing to a blender. ‘You could have a coffee, but I gave up caffeine when I discovered that drinking four cups a day increases your chances of all-round mortality by twenty-one per cent, with side effects including insomnia, nervousness, restlessness, irritability, an upset stomach and breath like a Satyr’s sewer system.’

  ‘Smoothie sounds . . . great,’ said Elliot, looking glumly at the green sludge Polyphemus poured into a glass. ‘So I’m here to—’

  He was interrupted by a loud bleep from Polyphemus’s eye.

  ‘Take medication,’ it droned.

  Elliot, startled, slopped green sludge all over his hand.

  ‘Bum,’ he grumbled. He looked over at the sink. ‘I’ll just wash my hands.’

  ‘NOOOOOOOO!’ screamed the Cyclops. ‘Not the – wet stuff. I’m acutely hydrophobic!’

  ‘Hydro-what-now?’ Elliot asked, before his own memory answered the question. Hypnos had mentioned this – Polyphemus was afraid of water.

  He looked at the quivering Cyclops. Imagine a life without water! No cooking. No cleaning. No washing.

  It sounded epic.

  ‘It’s OK,’ he said. ‘No wet stuff.’

  ‘You promise?’ trembled Polyphemus, pulling a small disc out of his pocket and spinning the outer ring.

  ‘What’s that for?’ Elliot asked.

  ‘This? Oh, this is my fidget spinner. My therapist recommended it for alleviating stress, but I read that they carry a forty-two per cent chance of fingernail breakage, a twenty-one per cent chance of repetitive strain injury and a ninety-seven per cent chance of irritating nearby teachers. Actually, I don’t want it any more . . . Here – you take it.’

  ‘Oh, thanks!’ said Elliot, giving it a spin. He’d wanted one of these for ages. Still wasn’t sure why. He stuffed it in his good pocket.

  ‘OK,’ said Polyphemus, opening a cupboard filled with bottles. ‘Medicine time.’

  ‘Wow,’ said Elliot. ‘Are you unwell?’

  ‘No,’ said Polyphemus proudly, lining up the bottles on the counter. ‘Because I take my medicine to prevent everything. Right – antihistamines, anti-inflammatories, antifreeze . . . Oh, these childproof caps are very sensible, but they make it a bit tricky to—’

  ‘Here you go,’ said Elliot, removing all the lids in seconds. ‘Listen, I really need to—’

  A deafening alarm suddenly blasted throughout the cave.

  ‘What’s that?’ shouted Elliot, clamping his hands over his ears.

  ‘It’s my . . .’ Polyphemus shouted back.

  ‘What?’ Elliot yelled.

  ‘Polyphemus?’ a gruff voice boomed over a speaker. ‘Come in, Polyphemus?’

  ‘Hang on!’ cried Polyphemus, pressing an intercom by the toaster and silencing the alarm. ‘Stand down, boys – all’s well.’

  ‘Who’s in there with you?’ said the voice. ‘It’s not a mortal, is it?’

  ‘Noooooo,’ said Polyphemus, winking at Elliot. ‘You know I gave up mortal flesh when I discovered it’s full of saturated fat and filled with artificial additives, making you twice as likely to experience poor cardiac health and troublesome wind.’

  ‘Shame,’ said the voice. ‘I fancy a snack. Laters.’

  ‘Sorry about that,’ said Polyphemus to Elliot. ‘It’s the neighbours. I installed intercoms in every room. They check in every ten minutes to make sure I’m not the victim of a domestic accident, an acute medical emergency, fire, flood, robbery or door-to-door salesmen . . . Although they’re getting so cheesed off with it, I’m probably more likely to get attacked by them. So, you can upgrade my security?’

  ‘What? I mean, yeah, yeah – that’s me,’ said Elliot.

  ‘I’m sorry – totally forgotten your name,’ said Polyphemus. ‘I hope it’s not a sign of premature ageing. Must take more vitamin D . . .’

  ‘It’s El— Mypu,’ said Elliot. ‘So I understand you have a safe? Can you show it to me?’

  ‘Follow me,’ said Polyphemus. ‘I was going to check my pulse, blood oxygen and blood pressure, but you can worry too much. You haven’t finished your smo
othie – why don’t you bring it with you?’

  Reluctantly clutching the glass of green sludge, Elliot kept up with the Cyclops as he unlocked doors, deactivated alarms and slathered himself in antibacterial gel. Next to the guest bedroom (where the bed linen was synthetic to reduce the risk of allergies by twenty-three per cent), there was a huge set of steel doors.

  ‘What’s that?’ asked Elliot.

  ‘My panic room,’ said Polyphemus. ‘In case of a meteor hitting the Earth. It’s totally secure – nothing and no one can get in and I have everything I need to live in there until the doors automatically release after six months.’

  ‘You really have thought of everything, haven’t you?’ said Elliot, who hadn’t made any plans for a meteor hitting the Earth. Or for what he was going to have for tea.

  ‘You can’t be too careful,’ said Polyphemus, coming to a huge black door. ‘Here we are. My safe.’

  ‘Ah, yes,’ sighed Elliot. ‘Very out of date. I see this a lot.’

  ‘Really?’ said Polyphemus anxiously. ‘I thought it had been made just for me. If there are others, then other people can get in and take my lovely . . . Wet Stuff Stone!’

  Elliot’s mind hummed. Behind this door was the third Chaos Stone. Imagine how powerful that would make him . . .

  ‘Yes, I’m afraid to say that this safe is yesterday’s news,’ said Elliot, snapping himself back to the moment. ‘You need our recent model, the . . . XF3900.’

  ‘Really? OK,’ said Polyphemus, taking some long, slow breaths. ‘So where can I get—’

  ‘First I’ll need to take a look inside,’ said Elliot.

  ‘No,’ said Polyphemus quickly. ‘No one goes in but me. I’ve been tricked before.’

  Elliot looked at the vast black door with a massive combination lock in the centre. How was he going to break into that?

  A wicked thought crept into his mind.

  ‘Oh, it’s up to you, of course,’ he said casually. ‘It’s just that we’ve had reports of . . . leaks in these safes. And with a Water Stone inside . . .’

  Polyphemus gasped.

  ‘Leaks!’ he whispered. ‘You mean – the wet stuff ?’

  Elliot nodded his head.

  ‘Could – be in there?’

 

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