The Gods Who Chose Us

by Michael J Roy

  He asked Hyas to meet him on Solum—a rocky planet just outside of Olympian territory—and to pilot a non-descript civilian Olympian ship to the rendezvous. Atlas waited for him in a desolate valley surrounded by jagged mountains, absent of any flora or fauna. In fact, fauna were rare on Solum and the only extant species were few hundred types of bacteria and a handful of insect-sized rodents. Unfazed by the sultry, inimical environment, Atlas stood outside his Nubian—his eyes glued to the sky—hoping Hyas would keep his word.

  Before a quarter of Solum’s rotation, a half-moon shaped craft descended from the red sky. Its maroon exterior was barely visible against the blood-stained background. The vessel landed and a hesitant Hyas emerged at the top of the exit ramp. Atlas could see the former hoplite had added some muscle since the last time he saw him—though not enough to match Atlas—as well as a countenance of experience. His life has been nothing but war for decades. The horrors he has witnessed are all over his face.

  “Hyas, it’s good to see you!” Atlas bellowed. It was more than mere pleasantry—Atlas was genuinely cheerful to speak with an Olympian that retained their loyalty to his nation.

  “Atlas. I’d ask if it was all true, but I’ve seen recordings. You were part of Olympia’s foundation—a rock that could bear our weight and hoist the less skilled into higher spots of greatness. How could have betrayed us?”

  Atlas’ burst of excitement quickly dissipated. “You of all people should know I’d never truly betray our people. I did what was necessary to gain the trust of the Anunnaki, but nothing more. The screams of the kin I was forced to slay will forever haunt me. No. I am not a traitor, but I did what had to be done.

  “I uncovered information about the Anunnaki that will yield a lethal blow if the Council uses it to act. That’s why I called you here: I need the location of the Aeaea system.” As the final words left Atlas’ mouth he saw Hyas take a step backward and drop his hand to the pistol on his hip. Please don’t make me kill you, Hyas.

  “Why would I give you that? How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

  “Hyas, I just prevented a team of traitors from making the Filum system go supernova. If you don’t believe me, I can lead you to their ship’s wreckage—it’s in this system.”

  “Aethra,” Hyas said while pointing toward the interior of his ship, “identified a destroyed starship in this system while I was enroute. It looked Olympian.”

  “It was a simple Remedium craft. Look, I wouldn’t ask you for this if I could do it on my own. I can’t waste time wandering Olympian territory—and potentially dying in the process—to find a cloaked system that can move locations. I need to get this information to the Council now.”

  Hyas lips curled inward while he gave Atlas a once-over. He’s thinking about it.

  “Ok. I’ll give you the coordinates, but not directly. I’ll program them into my ship and I’ll fly you there—”

  Atlas felt a rush of resentment. He doesn’t trust me—he thinks I’ll kill him once he hands over the information.

  “—plus, if you’re lying, at least I’ll get credit for bringing you in.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Atlas walked up to the Aethra, carrying a case of various electronic and physically marked files he pilfered from the Anunnaki research facility, and followed Hyas to the cockpit. Hyas kept his hand near his gun and occasionally whipped his head to the side to catch Atlas in his periphery. “Hyas, you can trust me. Just program the coordinates—we need to move as quickly as possible.”

  The trip was uneventful until the Aethra was within hailing distance of Aeaea. Hyas turned to look Atlas in the eyes.

  “I’ve contacted Aeaea. They know we’re coming.”

  Atlas shot out of his chair, his body tense. “You idiot! You told them I’m onboard? They’ll blow your ship out of the fucking sky!”

  “I told them I had you secured on my ship and that you have intel for the Council, they’re not going to…” Hyas’ voice trailed off while he fiddled with controls.

  “What’s going on?” Atlas asked, his muscles still flexed and his body looming over Hyas.

  “They’ve…disabled my control of the Aethra. I don’t know how that’s possible, but they are piloting us now.”

  Atlas sat back down, a little relieved. “At least we’ll make it to the surface alive.”

  The Aethra was guided into the hanger of a Storskip. Atlas was taken into custody by the Council’s personal guard, Cerberus—their signature head-to-toe white armor unmistakable—and not-so-gently strapped into the seat of a second, smaller craft. Five Cerberus guards were present on the vessel as it departed the Storskip and flew to Aeaea’s surface.

  The trip was silent except for one of the guards—Atlas wasn’t sure which one—who mumbled something about “any other traitor would have been killed on the spot, but Atlas was special. Given his invaluable service earlier in the war, the Council wants an audience with him before they cast final judgement.”

  After landing, Atlas was immediately blindfolded. He was rushed to an unspecified location and, after his blindfold was removed, he was met with white, padded walls in a room with no clear exit. A judgement chamber. He knew hidden speakers, as well as microphones, were embedded in the ceiling and walls. Moreover, the Council would have a live feed of the room.

  He sat for a few moments in complete silence, bound to a chair, waiting for the Council to initiate the session.

  “You know why you’re here,” a disembodied voice said, rumbling through the room. “What other reason explains your actions besides madness?”

  Atlas guessed it was Zeus speaking. “I did what you couldn’t do. I infiltrated Anunnaki territory, gained their trust, and collected information that will win us the war.”

  There was a long pause. “Continue.”

  “I have the locations of their most essential advanced weapons research and manufacturing facilities. I have data on a biological weapon that aims to dislodge Primordials from space-time. I killed some of their most prominent scientists before I left. With the information I brought back—and the damage I’ve already done—we can finally cut the heart out of the Anunnaki and end this.”

  There was another long pause. “We’ve already started analyzing the information you brought. Many of the weapon facilities have already been—or will be—dealt with and the toxin appears hypothetical, at best.”

  Atlas opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He began to flex and squirm against his restraints, unable to hold back his rupturing frustration. “How? Before I left you struggled to defend our own territory! Out maneuvered at every turn! And now you tell me you’re executing strikes in the most fortified and cloaked Anunnaki regions? How!”

  “Dionysus.”

  Atlas’ mind was foggy with rage, but he was dimly aware of that name being connected with a scientist who occasionally consulted with the military. “The scientist? How did he take down entire research facilities?”

  “His job was to think. We have other warriors—even superior to you—that proved more than capable.”

  Atlas relaxed a little against his fetters. The reminder he wasn’t the most dominant force in Olympia subconsciously reminded him he couldn’t punch his way out of every problem. “Athena? Poseidon?”

  “Among others.”

  Calm down. Don’t fall for their psychological traps. “Either way, when I left on my mission Olympia was drowning. I brought back a raft to keep us afloat, whether you acknowledge it or not.”

  Atlas’ last statement echoed in his head, filling the silence of the room. I made the right call.

  The Council didn’t respond. A door opened, and Atlas was led to solitary confinement.

  He continued to meditate on his decisions and found no flaws in his logic. When he wasn’t meditating, Atlas was running through military drills, going through motions and exercises that further burned hand-to-hand combat skills into his muscle memory. The confinement on its own didn’t bother Atlas�
�or most other Olympians. Having time to meditate and feel the sensation of the universe move through them was cathartic. Atlas only really struggled with being labeled a “villain” by the Council. As much as he preferred to wear an apathetic exterior, exile and shame worried him more than death.

  Atlas was finally brought back before the Council, confined in the same white padded room, after 18 months in imprisonment. He was ready to face judgement from the same ethereal voice that condemned him to confinement, bracing for excoriation as a traitor.

  “We have an assignment for you,” the same voice thundered throughout the room. “We are in need of a warrior. A skillful, patient combatant that can be trusted to fiercely defend experiments essential to Olympia’s long-term well-being. We have plans of using the humans of Earth as a vanguard for future conflicts. We’ll need you…”

  Atlas stopped listening to the specter. Humans pose no more threat to Primordials than a planet does to its host star. What could they possibly offer our military? Fuck these experiments. Will I never receive judgement?

  A small part of Atlas was relieved, but he was mostly disappointed and frustrated. He waited 18 months to hear the verdict, and now he may have to wait indefinitely. Everything he did was to protect Olympia and he wanted to know if the people for whom he risked his life agreed his actions were sound. Unfortunately, he would have to continue to wait without the promise of ever receiving that answer.

  Atlas was vaguely aware the voice had ceased speaking and he grunted in response. A door opened to reveal Athena, with the familiar forms of white armored Cerberus guards flanking her. She escorted him to a starship and flew with him to Earth.

  For the first few hours of the flight, Athena stared at him without saying a word. Her eyes were filled with rage and her hands were shaking. Atlas understood her reaction, but he wanted her on his side as he respected her as a warrior. Although he had never fought by her side, tales of Athena’s combat prowess were legendary.

  “I did what I did for Olympia. You of all people should understand that.”

  “You slaughtered our people for a secret mission without Council approval. You coerced men to defect so you could kill them later. You’re not an Olympian—you’re a rodent.”

  Atlas moved to stand up, but was met with his restraints. He spit at Athena’s feet and felt his face flushing with anger. “If I could persuade them to defect then anyone could—they were a liability! Who knows how many Olympians they would have killed if I didn’t intervene. And I brought back intel that could save Olympia from biological warfare—does that mean nothing?”

  Athena started bleeding from her hands as her nails dug into her palms, “Enough! We’re done talking. I will escort you to a hibernation I hope you never wake from.”

  Atlas flexed and struggled against the restraints for a moment; he needed an outlet for the fury burning his insides. He soon subsided and broke eye contact with Athena. There’s no use. She’s armed and looking for an excuse to kill me. Wars never end. Olympia’s leadership will call on me again soon and treat me with the respect commanded by a great warrior.

  Atlas didn’t say another word for the rest of the flight; he was simply biding his time. Upon arriving on Earth, he was immediately taken deep beneath the planet’s southern pole and locked into a hibernation pod. He was given a few final instructions, including how to access his weapons upon waking, and then the transparent lid was sealed. The last image he had was Athena’s eyes peering over the left shoulder of the scientist that closed the chamber on him: eyes of tamed rage.

  * * *

  Atlas looked over at Athena in the pilot’s seat; he wondered if she still wanted him dead. In all likelihood she did. Olympians came to decisions rationally. Athena had all of the facts prior to his hibernation and her mind was made up.

  He shifted his attention to the tottering piston engine, propeller-driven aircraft he was trapped in, necessary to avoid drawing attention from whoever landed in Peru. It felt extremely unstable, as though it may drop out of the sky at any second. Crashing was a secondary concern, though.

  Atlas’ focus was on whether the information he stole helped turn the tide of the war, but he couldn’t ask Athena. He knew asking her threatened to snap their strained relationship and he didn’t want to spark an argument to further distract from the mission at hand. After we crush the intruders, I’ll ask about the intel I brought back to Olympia…hopefully to a different Olympian. “What did I miss?”

  Athena responded immediately—as if she had been waiting for Atlas to speak. “After you were put into hibernation on this research facility our sector of space stayed relatively peaceful. The Fracturing resulted not only in a large loss of sentient life, but caused all of the Primordial civilizations to regress at varying degrees in the areas of economics, technology, and science. Cultures themselves also changed—overnight, the galaxy was full of isolationists. We went 150 years without any official communication from any other Primordial civilization. We still haven’t had any cordial contact with the Anunnaki, and barely any with the few Huaca that survived. The truth is that, despite our best efforts, we aren’t sure how much development has occurred outside our sector in the 1,000 years since you went under.”

  1,000 years? It was longer than Atlas was anticipating, but he pushed his distress aside. “How much did we end up guiding humans if they made this much progress in 1,000 years?”

  “Supposedly none. They are one of the most experimented upon species in our galaxy—going back thousands of years—but we’ve still observed abnormally rapid technological development in their societies.”

  For a moment, Atlas ruminated on what that may mean. Did the Council understand something about humans that I missed?

  “You mentioned preparations for war earlier?” I knew it was inevitable—Olympia can’t go to war without me.

  “Though reconnaissance has been difficult, a few years ago we observed most Primordials were moving war ships to the boundaries of their territories and building new weapons. We weren’t too worried until we measured extremely strong gravitational waves emanating from empty sectors of space. Not even a black hole present.

  “After that, we redoubled our efforts out here and started preparing ourselves for war. Well, trying to prep. As of late, the Aesirians have been a thorn in our side.”

  Atlas turned to face her in confusion. “How so? What could those primates do to irritate us other than die too quickly during experimentation?”

  “Experimentation on their race was banned long ago, around the time the war had dwindled to nothing but minor skirmishes and negotiations. They live alongside us now. They’ve aided us in defense technologies, as well as warship and weapon construction. Recently, their production has dropped and our engineers have identified some mistakes they’ve made in a few ships. They’ve stirred up riots through political grandstanding, and stressed the Council with legal battles. Unrest within their population is reaching levels we haven’t seen since they first integrated.”

  “What? They are part of Olympia now? We’ve decided to treat animals as equals? I guess a lot has changed…” Atlas said as he turned away. “This is ridiculous.” He looked back at Athena with clenched fists. “You all should have either forced them to vacate our sector or killed ‘em!”

  “The Aesir don’t seem to believe what we have been telling them about the other Primordials prepping for war. It’s unfortunate. We’ve grown to rely on them in many ways. The Aesirians have been a better friend than foe.” Athena ruefully replied, eliding any response to Atlas’ outburst.

  Atlas chose his words carefully. He could hear the menace dripping from his own voice and chose not to stifle it. “We rely on them? Olympia relies on them?” He shook his head. “I don’t believe it. That’s the most preposterous thing you’ve said this whole time.”

  “They are technologically and medically clever. Olympians have lost perspective from all of the advantages we’ve gained. We don’t innovate and don’t dream. We d
on’t struggle. The Aesir’s weakness feeds their strength. They are hungry to survive in a galaxy where they are consistently out-matched. We’ll need them if another war breaks out.”

  Suddenly, Atlas no longer felt interested in continuing the conversation. “Enough about Lessers. Anything else I missed?”

  “No.”

  “And you came to Earth to get me prepped for the fight?”

  “Yes.”

  * * *

  Her conversation with Atlas complete for the time being, Athena’s mind went to the Aesir. They had great strengths, but weaknesses, too. Apart from the obvious, they’ve struggled to provide prosperity for their people. Large economic downturns and rationing seemed too regular in their society. Nevertheless, they persevered in the face of domination from a superior race, even supplying the Olympians with useful bits of technology. Perhaps they just needed more time to evolve and integrate with Olympians. They’d be of use to us here, now. They evolved in an environment of uncertainty and chaos…Would they have called for reinforcements yet? Should I have told Bellum command that the Chronos Passage was compromised?

  Athena struggled with strategizing in a situation where the opposition potentially had information about the future. Were the intruders hoping I’d call for reinforcements? If they’re using knowledge of the future as an advantage, then I want to change as little as possible and figure out what they’re trying to impact…Or maybe I need to act unpredictably or irrationally. Did they know I’d be on Earth when they attacked? Too many unanswered questions. I need to keep this contained to Earth’s solar system for now.

  Just then, the plane started to shake uncontrollably and Athena’s focus shifted to the rattling hunk of metal that enclosed her.