The Gods Who Chose Us

by Michael J Roy

  Athena found nothing of note during her survey and considered piloting to the two defunct Chronos Passages. Are those areas even considered safe? Who knows what odd effects may be lingering from the aftershock of a Passage collapse. Most of the research was housed at this base anyway, and it doesn’t look like whoever attacked it was here to steal it.

  But if they weren’t here for the research then they have to be here for something on Earth—no one would risk this much otherwise. It’s a better use of my time to get back to Earth and hunt down the intruders before they can do anything else destructive.

  Plus, Atlas will be awake soon, and I can’t have him wandering around without my supervision.

  Athena set course for Earth.

  Act I, Chapter 3

  Passage

  Location: Near the Oort Cloud outside Earth’s Solar System

  Year: 2031, One Year in the Future

  Unfortunately, ‘adamant’ is still more of a mystery than I’d like to admit. We know it’s massless and stronger than the surface of a neutron star, but its underlying properties still elude us. Who would have thought that black holes were glorified quarries?

  —In Vino Veritas, page 45, note 11.

  * * *

  Loki stood in the control room of the Hades vessel, which had been dubbed the Svadilfari, alongside his companions Vili and Sigyn, waiting to begin their approach. They had one opportunity to make it to the Chronos Passage entry point near the Earth’s sun. Failure would result in their death, and there were only two ways to fail: either the Hades space ensconcing the Svadilfari would evaporate, leaving them unarmed and unshielded to Olympian bombardment, or the Chronos Passage would somehow block their entry. If the latter were to occur, the Aesirian team was ordered to open the hatch on the Svadilfari and allow the Hades space to crawl inside the ship. This would ensure not only their death via disintegration, but, more importantly, no bodily remains for the Olympians to link the attempted attack on the station with the Aesir.

  The black, viscous rubber dissolved any baryonic matter—normal matter composed of neutrons, electrons, and protons—it contacted. The Aesir were only safe within the Svadilfari because, prior to the Hades space’s “condensation” onto their ship, a layer of non-baryonic matter was applied. Non-baryonic matter was invisible and unreactive, only interacting with the broader universe via its effects on gravity. When it met Hades space it wasn’t destroyed—it was hardened. Opening the hatch would cause the non-baryonic encasing to depress into the Svadilfari, losing its solid state and no longer acting a barrier to the matter-eating Hades space following in its wake.

  Loki exchanged glances with Vili and then looked over at Sigyn inquisitively, wondering if she was ready. The doubt he saw in Vili’s eyes suggested that Vili also had his reservations about the bookish member of their team. She nodded and Vili reached up to the console in the center of the Hades vessel, initiating their approach toward the station around Earth’s sun.

  There were only two handles on the console: one controlled the pitch and yaw of the ship and the other modulated speed via stimulation of the black rubber-like Hades space surrounding the Svadilfari. The controls were suspended by three beams in the center of the spherical vessel. When Vili reached up and took control of the ship, the floor melted away to reveal a hologram display of the surrounding space; as if Loki and the others were free floating through the solar system. Loki shuddered, and to his left Sigyn gasped. Regardless of all the theoretical preparation for the mission, the feeling of flying unprotected through the void of space was unnerving.

  Vili spoke without turning to his crew. “As planned, I’m moving to an orbit that will drop us at a spot about 25 million kilometers from the edge of the host star, the rough location of the entry to the Chronos Passage, in eight hours.”

  Loki let out a gasp that rang louder in his own ears than Sigyn’s had a moment earlier. “Eight hours?”

  “The Hades ships were designed to pass through Chronos Passages, not interstellar travel. I’m not going to unnecessarily push this craft to max acceleration and waste Hades space. I’ll get us up to a comfortable speed and glide into the intercept point.”

  Loki enjoyed the occasional element of risk—it was a necessary barrier to achieve anything of value in life—but he wasn’t too keen on spending one-third of an Earth day floating through Olympian controlled space in an unknown and unregistered vessel. Arguably worse than the risk, though, was the boredom. What the hell am I going to do on this empty ship? He looked at Sigyn, hoping she would make a well-reasoned request for greater haste, but she wasn’t paying attention. She was busy whispering to herself and pacing; each step of her right foot methodically swaying the bag she had across her shoulders, containing her weapon. “We can do this. We can do this. We can do this.”

  Loki’s shifted his full attention to Sigyn. I won’t find what I’m looking for if she taps out before we arrive. “Sig, Vili could do this entire mission without us. We’re just here for the ride. Relax.”

  Sigyn gave no hint she heard him. “Sig! You’re just adding tension to the situation. Focus. Vili is doing all the heavy lifting. We have eight hours until anything is going to happen anyway.”

  Vili cut in. “Loki! Everyone prepares for battle in their own way. Lay off. Sig, you’re here because we need your mind and abilities. It’ll be impossible to secure Earth and build an army without you. I’ll—we’ll—do everything we can to keep you safe. Do whatever is necessary to prepare. For what it’s worth, I meditate before conflict.”

  Loki rolled his eyes while Sigyn slowed and eventually sat down and closed her eyes. Is she really going to meditate for eight hours? “Vili, how long would this take at top speed? Can’t we shave at least a little time off this trip? This is a busy sector…”

  “Eight hours,” Vili replied.

  I guess I can stare into the void of space for a while.

  * * *

  Vili’s mind was calm. His sole focus was the mission. He allowed his subconscious to rehearse battle strategy, hand-to-hand combat maneuvers, and contingency plans should anything go wrong, but his conscious mind dealt with what was immediate: piloting the ship. He was aware of his surroundings; he heard Loki’s punctuated sighs throughout the flight and periodically noted that Sigyn appeared to be in a deep trance, but his main concern was moving the Hades vessel into position.

  He checked the time until intercept. One hour. Vili took a deep breath and felt his blood rush to his limbs. He needed to keep his excitement, as well as his natural pre-mission anxiety, to a minimum. Removing his eyes from the void in front of him for a moment, he looked at his right hand and tried to feel the presence of adamant in it. This will surprise the Olympians…

  Adamant was the Aesir’s best kept secret: a seemingly unbreakable substance that is all that’s left after a black hole evaporates. Vili had a deep knowledge of the substance because he had overseen its development for military applications. He would be the first Aesir—and possibly the first sentient being—to use it in a fight. The thought excited him. He clenched his jaw and made a fist with his right hand, steadying his emotions. He took a breath and thought about his team, acknowledging his concern for Sigyn. Your team needs to be ready.

  Vili looked over at her and saw she finished her meditation. She needs a distraction.

  “Sigyn, I’d like to go over the adamant one more time before battle.”

  Sigyn’s body jumped at the abrupt break of silence with Vili’s question. She swallowed before she spoke. “I—sure. What about it?”

  She’s fighting back fear. “I understand adamant is nearly massless and harder than any other known material, but I still don’t entirely grasp how its ‘quark-like’ properties grant me the ability to call my hammer to my hand.”

  Sigyn stood up and straightened her pants. “You recall that there are always at least two particles produced by any evaporated black hole?”

  “Yes.”

  “And that black holes can be e
lectrically charged?”

  “Yes. And I understand that if two particles from the same parent black hole are exposed to an electrical current—one that matches the black hole’s charge at the time of evaporation—then those two particles will be attracted to each other. But how does that work over large distances and what does that have to do with quarks?”

  “Well, you’re mostly right, but if a black hole was neutral then its adamant particles would never be ‘attracted’ to one another.”

  Vili nodded. Sigyn’s voice seemed to loosen and relax as she fully shifted into her professorial mode.

  “In terms of similarities, quarks—the building blocks to neutrons and protons—are never found alone in nature. It’s because quarks are connected in pairs via a fluxtube between them. Like with any particle pair, to break them apart one would need to supply energy. As the quarks are pulled apart, the attractive force between them doesn’t dissipate like one would expect with a magnet or gravity. Instead, the attractive force per unit distance between the quarks remains constant.

  “Once sufficient energy has been expended to separate the pair of quarks, the fluxtube ‘snaps’ and creates two new quarks that attach to the original quarks that were being separated; ensuring a single quark can never be found alone in nature.”

  Vili interrupted to show Sigyn he was tracking. “Okay, so like quarks, the adamant particles are never found alone and they have some fluxtube that connects them?”

  Sigyn nodded and began gesticulating with her hands, a sure sign that she had forgotten her apprehension and had fully warmed to her topic. Vili’s ploy to calm his teammate was working. “Correct. In the case of the quark, the fluxtube gives rise to mass. In the case of adamant, the fluxtube stores potential energy. If the adamant particles are from an electrically charged black hole, then applying that precise current to each particle will release the stored energy—that is, collapse the fluxtube.

  “The energy release manifests in an intensely attractive force between the particles, always equal to the amount of work that went into initially separating them. So when you throw your hammer you’re actually storing potential energy in the fluxtube that connects the sister adamant particles in the palm of your hand and the hilt of your hammer.”

  Vili held up his hammer: Mjolnir. It resembled a handheld sledgehammer with the addition of a layer of small spikes on either side of the head. The head was rectangular, 35 centimeters in length with a cross section of 15-by-15-centimeters, and covered in electrically-neutral adamant particles. The hilt extended roughly the size of his forearm. “The adamant particles in the hilt are always charged and completely insulated from the outside world, correct?”

  Sigyn smiled and nodded. “All you have to do is charge your right hand and you’ll initiate the reaction.” Sigyn’s eye lingered on Vili’s right arm. “Is that easy to do?”

  She’s genuinely calm—not trying to mask anxiety, but truly absent of it. “Yes, as easy as snapping my fingers.” Vili realized that, although this conversation started as a mere distraction for Sigyn, he had a real question for her. “One more question. After I call my hammer back to me and I regain control of it, I cut the charge in my palm, effectively killing the attraction. As you know, immediately following that, a minute electric discharge, like small bolts of lightning, crackles around my hand. Is that something that will slowly erode at my ability to call my hammer?”

  “No. That’s just the remaining energy in the fluxtube being released as electricity. Since there’s still a little space between the particles in the hilt and your palm, the fluxtube isn’t totally collapsed when you cut the charge.”

  Vili nodded. “I may not have mastered its science, but I’ve had years to master its utilization.” And I can’t wait to show the Olympians what I can do. He chuckled to himself as he imagined the surprise on an Olympian’s face before he knocked their head off their shoulders.

  * * *

  “Fifteen minutes. Brace yourselves,” Vili instructed, imbuing his voice with authority.

  “Against what? Isn’t this thing we’re in indestructible?” Loki mocked.

  Vili chose not to respond. There was no real way for the guards at the entrance of the Chronos Passage to monitor for a ship as small and odd as the Svadilfari. Even if they were able identify it, there wasn’t much they would be able to do to stop it. The guards would need weaponry coated in Hades space. It was unlikely they had anything like that in their armory.

  In theory, a heavy dose of radiation might by-pass the Hades space and cook the occupants inside, but that wasn’t something the Aesir ever confirmed. It’d be equally likely any wave-based weapon’s discharge would experience enough scattering to become nearly harmless once it penetrated their vessel.

  “One hundred thousand kilometers,” Vili continued to reduce the Svadilfari’s speed. He wanted to hit the Chronos Passage dead center.

  “Look out!” Sigyn screamed.

  Fighters started scrambling toward their position originating from…nowhere. “The passage is hidden behind…a Svalinn shield? They are using our own tech to protect their experiments on sentient life!” Sigyn yelled, disgusted.

  Vili ignored her outburst and kept his focus on the Nemesis-class fighters barreling down on them. They had an elongated, oval-shaped cockpit with three vertical wings sticking out every 120 degrees. Projectiles streamed from the multiple ports lining the front of the protrusions. The fighters were firing everything they had—guided explosives, electromagnetic nets, space-time modulators—but there was no effect on the Hades vessel except to increase the evaporation of the rubber-liquid encasing it.

  Vili jumped back as the first missile struck the ship. He knew any weapon used against the ship would appear as though he was personally facing it with no protection, but all the simulations and knowledge in the universe couldn’t prepare him for the jolt of anxiety that gripped his spinal column. Watching weapons that are meant to bring down fortified transport ships barrel down towards one’s helpless body would terrorize even the most battle-hardened soldiers.

  When the first few missiles impacted the Svadilfari and nothing happened Vili breathed a sigh of relief. The weapons were torn apart at the atomic level by the Hades space, with no consequence to the inner-hull of the ship. Vili continued piloting onward to the void in front of him and, within a couple of seconds, passed the barrier of the Svalinn shield.

  He was struck by the sudden materialization of objects around him. His vision went blurry while his mind raced to process the overload of visual information. Had Vili been piloting any other vehicle into the heart of enemy territory the momentary blindness would have spelled certain doom. Fortunately for him, the Hades vessel was all but indestructible.

  His vision crystalized, allowing him to see the chaotic scene before him. Nemesis fighters swarmed like gnats around his position, unleashing their payloads, thereby equaling the pathetic insect in both threat and annoyance. Behind the fighters hung a massive, egg-shaped fighter transport—a Storskip—with its gun ports open. It was sending a salvo of projectiles directly at the Svadilfari. His first instinct was to take an evasive maneuver, but he consciously overrode his own reaction and kept course for the Chronos Passage.

  Vili processed and summarily ignored two other Olympian vessels in the immediate surrounding as they were likely scientific in purpose. Even if he wanted to spend more time observing them he couldn’t—the Hades vessel’s viscous exterior was drying up as Vili sped through the field of missiles and pellets. A futile attempt to stop him, but trouble enough to prevent him from changing course.

  Within seconds, most of the Nemesis fighters and the Storskip were behind him, and only the Passage was ahead. Immediately, the salvo ceased. It was clear the Olympians didn’t want to fire on him if they risked hitting the wormhole.

  Vili had but a brief moment to take in the beauty of the Passage before crashing into it, but that was more than enough. It looked like a rotating, gently vibrating disk of gas emitti
ng colors of blue, pink, and purple. As if an unrealistically small and dense nebulae was slowly unfolding space. Its rhythmic movement and inherent, unavoidable wrongness threated to lull him to sleep. Something about it completely commanded his attention, and he obeyed. His hands remained paralyzed on the controls, unable to course correct. Thankfully, there was no need.

  The spell it cast on him vanished once he rammed the Hades vessel into it. He and his crew found themselves instantly transported to the Kuiper Belt one year in the past, moving instantly in both time and space. Or maybe the universe moved around them? It was possible the entire universe traveled backward in time with them—or, as Sigyn had said during one of her reveries, ‘the portions of the universe that could be altered based on the maximum propagation of a gravitational wave from the origin of the Chronos Passage’s creation’—and reconfigured itself to an earlier state. Sigyn, in disagreement with the other physicists, had described the time travel as more of a “system reboot” to an earlier epoch. She claimed there was no “future” they would be affecting. Instead, using the Passage “merely” rearranged particles in the existing universe to one that reflected the past.

  Either way, Vili didn’t experience any changes as entered the Passage, other than an increase in the burden of responsibility for his people. The actions of his team were now the most important influence on the Aesir’s long-term well-being. He had a lot of work ahead of him.