The Gods Who Chose Us

by Michael J Roy

  Shit.

  He quickly rolled a few times, his body matching the undulations of the grass, and looked up: the guards were peering in his direction. Not at him, but at the fence. One walked toward where Loki entered and the other turned his focus back to the forest. Loki stayed completely still. The guard was on the outside of the fence looking in toward where Loki was. He seemed to be searching for the source of the spark. Seemingly frustrated, the guard kept his eyes focused on Loki’s point of entry while he walked back to his post and around to the same location, this time inspecting the other side of the fence. Loki used this opportunity to slowly creep closer to the human conveyance.

  He reached the vehicle, crept around the back, and sat up against the rear of it. Neither guard could see him from where they were. For a moment, Loki looked at the compound before him. He heard faint screams from inside the huts and saw flickering light through the straw in one of them. Ha—if the humans turn out to be a weaker, but equally psychotic version of the Olympians, then the Aesir are screwed…fools. The Aesir are taking too many gambles with this mission. With any luck, I won’t have to witness the consequences, though. I just need to get to Egypt without Sigyn or Vili following me.

  Loki shifted to the other side of the vehicle and lifted himself into the driver seat. He had noticed that, of the vehicles he saw while creating distance with their landing site, that most of them were only framed on the upper half—no solid roof. A pair of keys sat on the drive-side seat and, after a little observation, he saw a thin slot to the right side of the wheel. Physical, non-biological inputs required to ignite engines—a common characteristic of technologically young societies.

  Loki slid the key in the slot and manually rotated it. The car’s engine gave a loud shout and then hummed to life. The guards immediately spun to face the car with their guns raised. Both, with a look of confusion, as neither of them could see Loki behind the steering wheel; he had completely blended into the seat.

  The car jerked to life. Before the guards could process what was happening, the seemingly driverless car started turning away from them toward the far side of the fence. A quick glance at each other and both were spraying the vehicle with projectiles. Loki accelerated to the edge of the compound and turned down a road that blocked him from the spray of bullets. Sigyn was waiting for him. Loki slowed down just a hint so that Sigyn could jump in the vehicle and then continued to accelerate away from the camp. Within a few moments, the sounds of propelled metal ceased echoing throughout the jungle.

  * * *

  “Nice job—I knew you could do it without killing them!” Sigyn said with a smile, excited to be involved in some action to distract her from her broader concerns. “Did you get hit at all?”

  “A couple of their projectiles hit my back through the seat. I don’t think they broke my skin,” Loki said as he leaned forward and searched for the bullets behind him in the fold where the seat and back rest met. “Found ‘em! Ahh, still warm. Take a look.”

  Loki handed the bullets to Sigyn. “Deformed metal.” Sigyn took a quick sniff. “Hmm. Sulfur, potassium, nitrogen, oxygen. Simple chemical combustion.”

  “Ha! Imagine them using these to revolt against the Olympians. They wouldn’t stand a chance! I wonder how they’ll reward us…”

  “They haven’t needed to think about cosmic weapons or fighting enhanced species that are merged with space. They’ve been shut off from the rest of the galaxy! From what I can gather based on our experiences so far—and what we studied of Earth on Valhalla—they’ve evolved more rapidly than we did,” Sigyn replied, reproach creeping into her voice.

  “Yeah, yeah. We’ll see.” Loki paused for a moment and then changed topics.

  “Let’s go south. There’s an airstrip in a city in northern Bolivia. I’m sure we can steal something there.”

  Sigyn was always amazed at the details Loki could remember. He had looked at a map of this region once and would likely be able to flawlessly redraw the entire thing if he had to. Moreover, this wasn’t an augmentation—he had this skill naturally. His attention to details made him even harder to predict. I need to keep that in mind.

  Act I, Chapter 10

  First Contact

  Location: Longyearbyen, Norway

  Vili was still lounging in bed when news came in about the message he had broadcasted earlier. For the past few hours, he was content trying the various human foods (and alcohol) he had ordered and watching for humans with abnormal heat signatures entering town. He fiddled with the black rectangular box in his room and, as he suspected, it was some sort of communication device. Vili searched through the various outputs—delineated by electromagnetic frequencies—and found a station broadcasting current events. He had kept that on in the background.

  “…And some odd international news coming in now. Multiple cities and towns across the globe simultaneously received a broadcast—apparently from aliens! The broadcast was continuously repeated on a loop, alternating between five languages. We have a recording of the message: ‘You are not alone. Creatures of unspeakable power observe you daily. I am here to defend you against them when they finish their experiments and decide to terminate you. Some of you will see me soon.’ Ha—sounds pretty scary! Scientists are already claiming this was a clever prank by…”

  Vili started to feel uneasy. He knew he had to be patient, but he wanted to find a Descendant before humans had indisputable proof they aren’t alone. He wasn’t sure what would happen when the Earth was thrown into panic; it may be impossible at that point for anyone to journey north. The timing for the reveal had to be short though; otherwise, it gave any Olympians hiding on Earth too much time to foil his plot. If the Olympians find out it’s us before the Svalinn shield reverses then they’ll either call for reinforcements or attack Valhalla. Failure isn’t an option.

  Vili shifted his focus to Sigyn and Loki. Their safety was out of his hands. If one Olympian somehow surprised them he was fairly confident they could fight them off or retreat. More than one Olympian would present a serious struggle. Feeling a hint of longing, Vili flexed his right hand and felt the adamant that riddled it. It was perhaps the only substantive advantage the Aesir had against the Olympians. He tried to shake the thought of Sigyn’s and Loki’s untimely—and unlikely—death out of his mind and focus on their success getting to Earth.

  Vili smiled as he relived the previous days’ events over in his head. We caught them by complete surprise—both tactically and technologically. The only fact that gave him pause was that he was in possession of nearly all of the Aesirians’ adamant, making his survival on this mission critical to long-term military strategy. Were he to fall, the Aesir wouldn’t only lose one of their most advanced weapons, but they’d have also undermined the many years of economic depression and austerity that were necessary to research—and produce—the adamant in secret. Most of which was produced in dangerous areas in the void on the boarder of Olympia’s territory. Vili felt an urge to protect the Aesir against such a despondent reality, which pushed his thoughts right back to wanting to defend Loki and Sigyn, but mostly Sigyn.

  * * *

  It was nearing nightfall, and Vili, still listening to the rectangular receiver, was waiting to spot his first Descendant.

  “Wow, we are receiving some more bizarre news. First the ‘aliens’ and now this—it’s been strange a day, hasn’t it, Pete?

  That’s right, Margaret. We are receiving reports now of the destruction of a 4,000 year old site in Bandurria, Peru. It appears as though intruders murdered two security guards and proceeded to set off a series of explosives. Currently, the local police have no leads and no theories as to the intruders’ motivation…”

  Vili spoke to himself in his gravelly voice, “Well, at least one Olympian is on Earth.” If Sigyn and Loki haven’t found any yet, then they definitely know where to look now.

  Act I, Chapter 11

  Pacha

  Location: Bandurria, Peru

  Athena, a stro
ng swimmer, emerged from the ocean ahead of Atlas. She worried their crash site would draw attention and didn’t want to risk being seen on land. The plane crash marooned them on a section of the beach that jutted out from the surrounding coast by a few kilometers into the ocean. Athena figured swimming, though slower, outweighed the risk of detection for now; although, that scale was rapidly changing balance. Athena was constantly weighing the risk of detection, which would lead to the contamination of a long-running experiment, versus the unknown threat of the intruders, potentially unraveling all of the work the Olympians had accomplished on Earth.

  Atlas initially protested the swim, but followed suit. As rough as he was around the edges, Atlas would still follow orders from a competent leader. Until I’m deemed as moving too slowly –like how he judged the Council during the Fracturing.

  As they moved inland, Athena spotted the site she was looking for: the Bandurria Facility. It was sitting beneath the ruins of an ancient monument.

  The early research facilities on Earth were disguised as religious holy ground or feats of engineering. The initial scientists cleverly tricked humans into building their most impressive architecture directly over the underground labs that were set up. This technique prevented populations from excavating the land around the facility and discovering anything suspicious. Even if a warring faction of humans overran the site, they would typically destroy and build over whatever monument was previously there—ensuring even better secrecy of the lab sitting deep beneath the destruction.

  Athena strode up a hill towards the site and, as the ground leveled out at the peak, she noticed two security guards watching over the area—likely guarding the monument from vandalism. They couldn’t see her, of course. Athena was moving her hands in a way to curve space and bend light rays around her. Athena took great pride in her knack of space-time manipulation. Olympians viewed the ability to interact with space itself as an art as much as a science and Athena was among the best. She learned how to move her body in ways to weave the desired patterns she wanted into the fabric of space. If it could be considered a hobby then it was her only one.

  Athena looked back at Atlas, noticing he wasn’t even attempting to avoid detection. He picked up two rocks and threw them at the guards before they could notice him. Each stone shattered its target’s skull and exited through the other side of the head, mimicking a gun shot. Athena stopped her gesticulations and turned to face Atlas, enraged.

  “Are you disobeying my commands? I told you: we must avoid detection.” She took a step toward him and a slight vibration rippled through the ground.

  “No—why do you think I killed those guards? No witnesses. And now we can work more efficiently—not worried about the stare of Lessers.”

  Athena tilted her head to the side, unable to restrain her need to correct his uncouth behavior. “That’s the second time you’ve used that term. Are you implying their sentience shouldn’t be valued?”

  “Not compared to us—or any other Primordial for that matter. I suppose you think it should?”

  This is another reason she didn’t care if the Olympus Council obliterated Atlas: his antiquated view of life. There was nothing objectively wrong with his view, but Athena still found it repulsive. “In proportion to their sentience—regardless how minor—yes.”

  “Their sentience is essentially non-existent.”

  His answer reminded Athena of the insurmountable, foundational disagreement between them. There’s no point in arguing with him—just stick to the mission. “No more killing humans—that’s an order.”

  “I wouldn’t need to kill any humans if we were attacking these intruders head-on—we aren’t going to find them sneaking around old, abandoned research facilities!”

  “We’re here because this is the best lead we have—I have no idea why else someone would risk death and societal-level conflict to come to Earth if not for something precious that was left here long ago. If you know where they are then tell me; otherwise, shut up and follow my orders.”

  “Understood.”

  You may follow my orders, but you’re too thick—or stubborn—to understand why. She briefly considered whether she would kill him when their mission was done. He’s too…unique for Olympian society. Too much of an individual, driven by passion and rage. For as much as he hates “Lessers,” he is more like them than he realizes. No, she decided she wouldn’t kill him. That’s stooping to his level. If we survive and speak before the Council they’ll know how to handle him.

  Athena turned back around to face the ruins hiding the facility. It had to have been at least one thousand years since the underground building was in use. There were stairs built into the hill that led down to sunken land in the shape of a circle—roughly three meters below the ground immediately around it and fifteen meters in diameter. As she made her way down the stairs, her mind went to the range of experiments that went on here. From what she heard, the Primordials in this sector—the Huaca—were particularly brutal. At least, that’s what was reported in Olympia. She had no idea what she’d find at this facility, but her logic told her the intruders landed near it for a reason.

  She reached the center of the sunken disk and took in her surroundings. Stones jutted out of the circular wall around her, placed in lines that wrapped around the disk. The stones ranged in size from palm-sized to the length of a forearm. Definitely constructed by humans. Too sloppy to be anything built by Primordials.

  Athena knelt and felt the dirt beneath her feet. She moved to the edge of the circle, where the ground met the wall, and started looking for signs of entry. The vast majority of facilities like this one had a mechanism that lowered the disk into the ground, revealing a large warehouse for research underneath the hills and monuments above. She was looking for any evidence that it had been opened recently. Nothing.

  There could be other openings near the site or a method of entry that left less of a trace, but that would require non-trivial tech. Maybe the intruders were short-sighted enough to bring advanced technology that may get left behind if whatever they’re doing isn’t successful? But I didn’t detect anything in the atmosphere except a Hades vessel…Maybe they have a ship similar to a Hades vessel, but that is much harder to detect, that could create its own opening anywhere over the lab? Maybe a Hades vessel isn’t even considered ‘advanced’ in other sectors of space?

  The isolationism left in the wake of the Fracturing was so thorough that Athena wasn’t sure if Olympian technology was still considered advanced in the galaxy. Time was running out. She was coming to realize how little she knew about the security of Olympia within the cosmos. The fear subtly coursing through her body was turning to panic.

  “Atlas, stand over that ridge and let me know if anyone approaches.”

  Before Atlas could reply, Athena began to pulverize the site. She deftly moved her hands in the air above the ground—similar to a waving, punching motion—and started lifting up giant pieces of rock and flinging them to the raised land ensconcing the sunken disk. Other Olympians had attempted similar feats, but no one was quite as elegant as Athena.

  She was manipulating space-time in a way that sent cone-shaped ripples down from around her arm, through the rock, and then reconvening about two meters below the ground. The ripples separated the rock that was within the ripple from the rock outside of it. When the ripples connected below the ground they created a small “splash” in space-time, which pushed up on the dislocated rock segment. Large segments of rock popped out of the ground and Athena easily knocked them out of the way with her other hand. Within minutes the site was unrecognizable.

  “Keep a look out—I’m going in.” Athena hollered as she descended into the lab.

  * * *

  Athena jumped through the crude opening she created and landed on a circular platform overlooking four sections of the lab. A waist-high wall enclosed the platform, with a gap for four ramps spaced ninety degrees apart from the center. Each ramp had a depressed center—ideally shaped
for the Huacan physiology—and led down 10 meters to a separate warehouse, stretching 50 meters in length. Each room was separated by a thick wall that stretched from the floor of each chamber to the ceiling above.

  An unfamiliar language marked the low wall by the ramps. It wasn’t uncommon for research groups to use novel writing systems—different from their core language—to prevent other groups or species from stealing or copying their research. The only word she understood in the entire facility was “Pacha.” As Athena recalled, it was a Huacan word that meant “fertility,” either in land or creature.

  The most unusual aspect of this facility, thus far, was that the floors, walls, and ceilings were adorned with markings traced in what appeared to be gold. Beings, designs, stories, and more, were etched in gold everywhere around her. Did these markings mimic the home of these Primordials or did they serve some other purpose? Either way, it’s irrelevant for now.

  Athena balked when she looked ahead of her and saw a room overrun with various types of healthy vegetation. How are these plants still living? They weren’t just the typical green and brown Earth-bound vegetation with clean geometry, but an entire rainbow of colors and a topological treasure-trove. Athena stared at the food source for the plants, sections of the wall and ceiling emitting electromagnetic radiation. These facilities commonly utilized electrochemical backup power sources or weak geothermal energy generation—allowing these sleeping giants to awaken after 100s of years of idleness—but this entire facility must be powered by renewable energy. Hidden solar panels on the surface, disguised as plants? Permanent geothermal extraction?

  Athena’s ruminations were cut short when she noticed a single plant that intertwined with other vegetation, festooning its stems over a fifth of the room. Strands emanating from its center draped, hid, and wrapped themselves in multiple directions. The stems were a beautiful deep green—the kind of green Earth was synonymous with throughout Olympia—with smatterings of pink flowers growing off its stems and highlights of yellow throughout. The pink flowers turned to face Athena slowly and deliberately, as if guided by a conscious mind; a few of them released a yellow mist. Following the stems back to their source, Athena saw they connected to above-ground roots. The roots were a deep brown and wrapped over themselves into a thick, rigid sphere.