The Gods Who Chose Us

by Michael J Roy

  Upon entering the office, Zetes took the chance to take a quick glance at his surroundings. The office was much larger than the others he had seen on the base, with a small kitchen to his left and a lounging area to his right. Above him, the ceiling portrayed an interactive hologram showing the known position of all systems in Olympia. Zetes guessed that Poseidon would be able to layer in additional information, such as the location of various ships and bases, but likely stripped the image down to its skeleton before they entered.

  Zetes stood at attention in front of Poseidon’s marble desk, which sat in the middle back of his windowless office, waiting for his commanding officer to speak. The two Cerberus guards were still with him, silently standing behind him. The person who escorted them to the office was now gone.

  “Hand me the message,” Poseidon said has he extended his hand and looked up from his work.

  His face bore the markings and weathering of a man both experienced in battle and older than Notus; however, his outstretched arm was long and muscular, giving Zetes the impression that it belonged to a different person.

  Zetes handed over the package and saluted, putting his right hand in a fist over the left side of his chest and angling his head downward. He then spun around to leave the room; the guards did the same.

  “Wait, pilot.”

  Zetes froze mid step and turned back to face Poseidon. The guards showed no signs of hesitation as they promptly exited.

  Poseidon looked troubled. He sighed and looked up at the map on his ceiling, focusing on the edge of Olympian territory that coincided with the end of the galaxy. “What’s your name?”

  “Zetes, sir.”

  “I need you to bring Dionysus here, Zetes. He is somewhere in this system. My assistant will locate him for you and let him know you’ll be picking him up.”

  Zetes saluted, again with a slight shake from excitement before collecting himself and replied. “Y—Yes, sir.” He spun on his heels and eagerly walked out of the room. I get to meet Poseidon and Dionysus today!

  * * *

  After the door closed behind him, Poseidon got up to pace around the room. ‘Stay away from Earth’…Is Athena in trouble? Her mission was pretty straight-forward…we need the results from those experiments, as well as detailed observations of the current state of human affairs, if the Council wants to proceed with their plan…

  Poseidon took a step away from his desk, but froze. Responding to her is useless, she’ll keep us updated as she sees fit, but I need eyes on the situation.

  He moved back to his desk to contact one of his many assistants. “Cancel all supply runs to the Earth system and prep an unmanned spy probe to fly at superluminal speeds.” He continued pacing, waiting for Zetes to arrive with Dionysus.

  * * *

  To Zetes’ surprise, Dionysus was on Coeus. He made the journey back to the neighboring planet and went straight to the building identified as housing the famed Olympian scientist. Moving up a few flights of stairs and winding through various halls, he was met with an Olympian loitering outside a sealed door. Based on the Asclepius insignia patch—a double-helix—attached to his garments it was obvious this man was a medical researcher. Combined with a stern and grim countenance donned by the same individual, Zetes inferred that Dionysus had kicked this scientist out of his own lab.

  “I’m seeking Dionysus. I was told he is in this lab,” Zetes said while pointing to the door behind the man.

  “I know. I was notified. It’s my lab, but that doesn’t matter, does it? You can work your entire life to become a well-respected and established scientist—with your own lab and all—only to be cast aside when Dionysus decides he wants to use your lab as his macabre playground. Who approved him playing God with my fauna?” There was an unmistakable resentment in the man’s voice and, while Zetes sympathized with him, he wasn’t interested in being an ear he could ply with his complaints.

  “May I enter?”

  “If you plan on extricating Dionysus then by all means go right in, but be careful: he may kill you today, only to try to reanimate you tomorrow.”

  Zetes nodded at the off-putting comment and moved past the man toward the room. Is Dionysus trying to reanimate the dead? Is that type of experiment even permitted by the Council?

  Zetes was well aware of Dionysus’ reputation, which had extended beyond the scientific circles to reach even the military, as a researcher with an exceptional, although mercurial, mind. In academia, he avoided being pigeonholed into one specialty. Given the increasing complexity of all subject areas, it was common for scientists to spend the majority of their multi-thousand-year lifespan studying only a single sub-problem, of a minor problem, of a larger problem. Breakthroughs, regardless how insignificant, usually came as the result of a team working in the same field, but with slightly different sub-specialties. Dionysus, in contrast, bounced between different subjects. He absorbed the information he needed and followed his natural scent for discovery, eventually pulling together disparate and unrelated knowledge into something profound.

  Zetes opened the door to find Dionysus in the back of a dark, empty lab. “Dionysus, sir, Poseidon has requested—”

  “—My presence. I know, kid. He can wait a few more minutes while I finish this,” Dionysus said without looking up.

  Dionysus was as tall as Zetes and only slightly thicker than Notus, leaving him decidedly lanky. His thin grey-brown beard was wispy and unkempt, as was the wavy hair that fell above his shoulders. Permanent creases lined his forehead, likely from furrowing his brow as he thought.

  As he worked, he took intermittent sips from a flask. Is he drinking alcohol? Is this the same Dionysus that out-smarted the Anunnaki?

  “Ok, let’s go,” Dionysus said as he cleaned up his experiment and took one more drink. Bags marked the underside of his eyes.

  “Sir…drinking is prohibited on base.”

  Dionysus gave him a shocked look. “No! Really? Since when? How can I repent for continuously breaking that rule for well over one thousand years?”

  “Sir—”

  Dionysus mockingly grabbed his face and looked up to the heavens. “Thank you oh Great Beyond for sending this cadet to correct my perilous ways.”

  Growing tired of the display, Zetes responded. “I’m not a cadet—I’m an officer.”

  “Oh look, you forgot to follow protocol on this base and use ‘sir’ when referring to a superior officer. Strange how easy it is to forget sets of silly rules.”

  Zetes blushed and saluted. “This way…sir.”

  “Oh don’t put your tail between your legs. You were just starting to be a little fun.” Dionysus caught up and grabbed Zetes by the shoulder.

  “Sorry, sir,” Zetes said as he stopped to face Dionysus.

  “No need for an apology—you were following your own instinct. I was making a point.”

  “Your point being emotion can override logic, sir?” Zetes asked, a mixture embarrassment and frustration bubbling up within him.

  “You think saying ‘sir’ to superior officers while on base ‘logical?’ It’s closer to an arbitrary rule.”

  “Aren’t rules—especially in this system—steeped in logic? Isn’t prohibiting alcohol on base logical, sir?”

  “A few rules may be necessary, even if just for a short period of time. Most rules never disappear, though. They’re branded into the behavior of a generation that then passes them on indefinitely.”

  “Isn’t that just progress, sir?”

  “Not when edicts stack on one another instead of replacing old ones. Stagnation, not progress, is the inevitable outcome.

  “Too many minute rules will smother you—or anyone. They’ll soften and bend the will of the population that follows them. These…” Dionysus waved his hands and paused, clearly trying to compose his thoughts extemporaneously “…bureaucratic nets will trap and drown creativity—force men to become impotent through restraint and inaction. We need to assess why these rules were put into effect in the fir
st place and determine if they’re worth following.” Dionysus focused on something in the distance. “Don’t let others dictate the course of your life.”

  Is this a philosophy lesson? Zetes paused, thinking of what to say next. Dionysus looked lost in his thoughts and Zetes wasn’t sure what the conversation was about anymore. “Ok, sir, so you drink to avoid impotence?”

  The comment broke Dionysus’ trance. “Ha!” He smacked Zetes on the back as he shifted his tone for a third time. “It helps me stay creative! Now let’s go find Poseidon.”

  Zetes led Dionysus to his ship and began the quick trip back to Bellum.

  “So, are you the first person to have received a message through the aion network?” Dionysus asked, curiosity lacing his voice.

  “That’s classified, sir.”

  Dionysus rolled his eyes. “Of course, of course. Who else was in the lab with you when you made history?”

  “I…uh…” Zetes was allowed to tell Dionysus who he was with, but he couldn’t confirm or deny this was the first message through the system—and truthfully, he wasn’t sure. “Notus and I were working together when the message came through.”

  “Notus! Good for him. He isn’t the brightest star in the sky, but he has produced some solid work in the past.

  “Anyway, Zetes, how long are you stationed out here?”

  “Another two months, sir.”

  “You can drop the ‘sir’, it’s annoying and inefficient,” Dionysus said, momentarily shifting his tone to one of disgust before continuing. “What’s your plan after you leave here?”

  “I’m hoping to be assigned to a medical ship, si…”

  Dionysus didn’t comment on the stunted ending. “Ahh. A dangerous, but heroic job—to avoid enemy fire and pick up the injured. Well, here’s to your never being deployed—I’m not sure the galaxy can handle another Primordial war,” Dionysus raised his flask in mock salute and took another swig.

  Dionysus continued to ask Zetes random personal questions until they landed back on Bellum. Guards escorted them to Poseidon’s office where, this time, Poseidon greeted them at the door.

  “Dionysus, I’m glad you’re here. I need your help.” Poseidon’s voice was grave, but more relaxed than Zetes was expecting.

  “Commander,” Dionysus said as he saluted and entered.

  Zetes saluted and turned to leave.

  “Hold on, Zetes. Stay in the hall—I have a feeling I’ll need a ride when I’m done here,” Dionysus said before he closed the door behind him.

  * * *

  “Is this the first message that we’ve received over the network?” Dionysus asked Poseidon after they were secured in his office.

  “Yes. And from the last person you’d expect.”

  “Athena?”

  Poseidon nodded in affirmation.

  “I haven’t spent much time with her since the war…” Dionysus leaned back and thought back to the Fracturing; Poseidon, Athena, and he were sent on a variety of critical missions to end the war by crippling the Anunnaki. “…what’s going on?”

  “We sent Athena to Earth a little while ago to collect results from the experiment—the scientists there believe we can close down observations—and she was tasked with giving Atlas his new assignment.”

  “Athena was sent to interface with Atlas? Alone? Ha! It’s like you were asking for trouble.”

  “My hands were tied on the decision. The Council demanded that whoever collected the experimental results should also wake up Atlas—claiming it minimizes risk to the system. They didn’t want to ‘unnecessarily’ increase the number of personnel and ships needed to complete the mission, mostly because they wanted to maintain the secrecy of their activity around Earth. Overly cautious if you ask me, but, as I said, my hands were tied—I had already suggested Athena for the mission.”

  Dionysus shook his head. “Sometimes I think the Council is harder to understand than the Anunnaki—they must know what they’re doing won’t stay secret forever…Anyway, why didn’t they have some of the scientists just fly the results out here directly? They have ships capable of superluminal speeds out in Earth’s system, right?”

  “Well, again, in a gesture that seems too circumspect, the Council didn’t want to risk the off chance the vessel would be intercepted or attacked. They essentially wanted a soldier who could be sent behind enemy lines to steal information and safely return home on their own. They also continued to push the notion that Atlas needed reassigned now.” Poseidon paused and shrugged his shoulders. It was clear he didn’t understand the urgency behind the Council’s request. “Anyway, the issue is that within hours of arriving on Earth, Athena sent us this message: stay away from Earth.”

  Dionysus tilted his head and squinted his eyes. “And that’s all she sent?”

  “Yep.”

  Dionysus sat down and rested his chin on his hand while he thought. “It’s possible one of the Chronos Passages collapsed—or has become unstable—and she wants time to assess them before potentially bringing more Olympians into warped space-time…” He shifted around in his seat as he thought. “…but she likely wouldn’t have been so pithy. You mentioned the observation of Earth may be coming to a close. What does that mean for that system?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine; the Council hasn’t told me anything official…if you’re hinting that Athena may try to prevent the Council from obliterating or enslaving that system, then I’m going to preemptively disagree with you.”

  “Come on, though. It’s possible, right? The only person on the Council that has generally shared Athena’s views on this matter is Prometheus. It’s quite obvious—even if the Council hasn’t said it—what they’ll do with Earth when they’re finished. Wasn’t there even a rumor that some Council members— maybe Aphrodite and a few others—were considering keeping more distance between Athena and non-Primordial species for getting too ‘sentimental?’”

  “Merely rumors. You know Athena—is she one to get sentimental about anything? And anyway, the Council generally doesn’t assign specific soldiers to missions or duties. That’s my job. Regardless, we shouldn’t entertain that idea,” Poseidon said with a little more authority in his voice.

  “Understood, commander…then the best course of action would be to send an unmanned probe to the area with equipment to detect the stability of the passages, specifically, to check the passage on the edge of the system.”

  “Perfect. I have a probe being prepared now. I’ll need you to determine the equipment needed and oversee its installation before we send it off.”

  “One more thing: if the probe returns with information about the Passage being even slightly unstable, we should immediately send it out to any other sites in Olympia that have Chronos Passages.”

  There was a subtle tilt to Poseidon’s head. “For what purpose? The two Chronos Passages I know of—one being around Earth—were constructed separately.”

  “Correct, but if they are both exhibiting some form of instability then that will further narrow down the possible events taking place in Earth’s system.”

  Poseidon didn’t appear satisfied, but it was crucial to send the probe as early as possible. “Ok. I’ll call ahead to make sure we have enough fuel to send the probe to the other locations. Head down to the hanger now—RSh2— and fly with them to Coeus to make sure they get the equipment they need. After, come back here; I’d like a deeper explanation around why we would need to check the other Chronos Passages.”

  “Will do, commander,” Dionysus said as he got up and saluted.

  On the way out he was pleased to see Zetes was still waiting in the hallway. “Zetes, I’m going to need a ride to RSh2 as fast as possible.”

  Act II, Chapter 3

  Aesir

  Location: Valhalla

  How miraculous and terrifying it must have been for Thor to have witnessed the then-present-day Vili as the future version of him traveled backward to the same moment in time. Those effects are not something I have
ever observed, but I’d rather remain ignorant of the experience than have the opportunity to see them in the future.

  —In Vino Veritas, page 170, note 5.

  * * *

  Thor, son of Odin, was aiding in Vili’s training after finishing lunch, fighting the drowsy side-effect of eating the Habrok he hunted the prior morning. Hunting the Habrok hawk wasn’t easy, as they were among the largest and most intelligent birds on Valhalla, but the taste of their meat made it worth the trouble. Thor had woken before dawn the prior day, gathered primitive weapons, and set out to find game. Using antiquated tools—spears, clubs, and bows—to hunt was a common hobby among the personnel stationed on the planet. They’d ride on a domesticated Sleipnir—an eight-legged, long-faced beast native to Valhalla—or go on foot, venturing out into the deep forests that consumed the planet, and spend the day (or multiple) hunting and living off the land. It served as a reminder of what the Aesirian elders experienced during their colonization of the planet.

  Thor had used his time in the wild to reflect on Valhalla’s past. It was the first planet the Aesir settled outside of their home world of Asgard, acting as a second home for them for many years. A millennium prior, the Aesir were suffering at the hands of the Olympians. The invaders had wrought destruction across Asgrad and began to subject local populations to gruesome experimentation. The details of which were still not openly discussed, in the same way war veterans don’t casually discuss intimate aspects of how their friends fell in combat. As part of the Aesirian revolt, led by Thor’s father and uncles, the majority of the surviving Aesir temporary relocated to a neighboring planet in the Asgardian system: Valhalla.

  The planet, even gauged from afar, was less than ideal. The environment was almost the same across the entire planet: humid, thick, tall forests. Trees with trunks wide enough to house families riddled the landscape. There were a few thin coasts, but most of them consisted of steep rock faces and angry seas.