The Gods Who Chose Us
Page 36
Vili turned on his side and crawled pathetically toward Sigyn. I’ll never make it. “Run!”
* * *
With all the commotion on the ground, it was clear to Dionysus that no one noticed his ship enter the vicinity. He watched as Athena stabbed Vili’s thigh and turned toward Sigyn. Please, wait! I’m so close!
Athena leapt into the air toward Sigyn, which left Dionysus no options. Dionysus looked on toward Athena. I’m sorry Athena, but this is the only way…
As Athena landed, Dionysus met her with his ship. He kept his prongs rotating and aligned the bottom edge with her body, ripping her to pieces. Her torso and arms rang formlessly throughout the inside of the Thyrsus’ spinning limbs. Athena’s legs were tossed aside, their final act adding to the red cloud of mist that began to eat at Dionysus’ visibility. Additional bone and sinew flew off in various directions as Dionysus powered down his vessel. Goodbye, friend. I am truly sorry.
Mjolnir and Minerva fell from her lifeless grasp and collided with the ship’s prongs. The spear slid through three quarters of one of the spines before being flung away and the hammer gave Dionysus’ vessel a few dents before falling safely to the ground.
* * *
Vili was so intensely focused on yelling for Sigyn to run that he didn’t notice the mysterious, spinning ship enter the area until it plowed through Athena. That’s not an Aesirian ship…
He ceased his forward struggle and forgot his half-severed leg, staring on in amazement at what appeared to be a small pod with three forward limbs attached to it.
A figure began to emerge from the vehicle. A person whom made Vili think he must be dead or hallucinating from his wound. That can’t be Dionysus…
Act III, Chapter 10
Repeated Failure
Location: Djoser, Africa
I will not continue with this game. We are running out of time and the Council refuses to heed my warnings. This plan will never work.
—In Vino Veritas, page 227, note 9.
* * *
Sigyn whipped her head around at what sounded like a hawk passing through an engine. She had tripped while looking back to gauge Athena’s distance, having never actually glimpsed the warrior, and was in the process of erecting herself when the cacophonous burst interrupted her.
Upon viewing the carnage left by the unknown vessel, she completely froze, rooted to the ground. Her face was matted with sand and dirt, clinging to her sweat. Her body ached and began to feel cold as her heart rate slowed and evening fell, residual perspiration continuing to carry away heat from her body even though her natural climate control was no longer needed.
Still sitting, she held her breath as the cockpit to the strange looking ship opened.
A tearful Dionysus stepped out from the squid-like vessel. His lanky body made its way down the ship’s ramp, furtive glances flying in the direction of both her and Vili. He shook his head and hung it low until he reached the ground.
“Sigyn!” he called. “Come help me patch up Vili!”
The use of her name startled her. After an involuntary quiver, her body fell paralyzed. She tried to move, but her limbs refused her orders.
Dionysus now looked annoyed. “Sigyn, come on! He needs help.”
Sigyn’s body trembled as she stood and stumbled over to Vili and Dionysus. Her legs wobbled with each step as she fought to keep her body from collapsing. By the time she got to Vili, Dionysus was already seeing to his injuries. Vili had yet to say a word; a look of sheer horror was across his face.
“I’ll get to the point: we need to stop Loki,” Dionysus said without looking up from Vili’s wound.
Loki! Is he somehow a part of this? Did he know in advance of Dionysus’ involvement? Sigyn shot a look to Vili, trying to catch his eye, but his look of horror turned to something of resignation and he dropped his head. She outstretched her hands in preparation to speak, letting them rhythmically bounce, but struggled to find the words. Loki…
Vili ended up speaking first. “What do you mean? How do you know he’s here?”
Dionysus sighed. “Well, I guess you’ll find out sooner or later, it might as well be now.”
“Find what out?” Sigyn asked.
Dionysus looked up at both of them. “The Council ordered the creation of more than one Chronos Passage.”
Sigyn put her head in her hands. She understood what was going on. Two Chronos Passages…if the first was the key to safeguard the experiments on Earth—able go back in time and prevent a known contaminate—then a second guarantees a lack of tampering with the first Passage. But why kill Athena? Why not just go back in time and kill us on our approach? Unless this has happened multiple times…but why?
“How many times has this played out?” she asked, partially mumbled through her palms.
“Too many, but this time there is no going back. I destroyed the other Passage.”
Vili interrupted. “Sigyn, what is going on?”
Dionysus answered before Sigyn could. “We had a second Passage that sent the user two years back in time instead of one. I was chosen as the person to relive your attack over and over again. My assignment was to go back ‘in time’ after each intrusion and adjust parameters to ensure the Council’s desired outcome was achieved.”
“Doesn’t that mean you’d continually destroy your body?” Vili asked.
“That’s not how any of this works. Each time a Passage is used, the universe reconfigures itself to an exact, atomic-level replica of an earlier state. My perspective—or that of anyone else—is that I’ve only ever been me. Your perspective of the universe, of you ‘going back in time’ through the Chronos Passage, is equivalent to my perspective, of your body ‘teleporting’ to the Passage from where you were stationed on Valhalla.
“Of course, an observer outside our universe may acknowledge that your actions reconfigured space-time— instantaneously recreating my body with all its memories, experiences, knowledge, and faults—but that’s irrelevant from my perspective. As far as we know, there are no residual effects that allow you to be aware of, let alone remember, any other ‘version’ of yourself. Were copies of me destroyed in this process? From a certain perspective the question is contradictory: if I was destroyed then I couldn’t be talking to you now.
“In general, I wouldn’t suggest you entertain queries along these lines, as they’ll lead to you putting an inappropriate amount of concern into counterfactuals.
“A similar—and more relevant—question is how I relived the attack without sullying the delicate balance of variables needed to, as I said before, ensure the Council’s desired outcome was achieved: each time I entered the second passage I did so at an early time before the attack. I gained time in the ‘past’ to maintain control over—and adjust—parameters, but lost observations of the ‘future’ after the attack.”
Sigyn’s hands fell from her face. “What do you mean ‘to ensure the Council’s desired outcome?’ Why not just kill us before we attacked?”
“Your attack was necessary.”
Vili pushed himself toward Dionysus; Sigyn collapsed to the ground, a knot forming in her stomach. “You manipulated us into attacking?” she asked.
“Yes. From leaking details regarding the Hades vessel—by allowing your Svalinn shields to spy—to giving you the space necessary to coax civil unrest, we lured you into the assault. It was necessary to gain the loyalty of the humans.”
“Why would you need their loyalty?” Vili asked, his tone bobbing on waves of uncertainty.
“That’s a longer story for another time, but the Council was essentially looking to replace the Aesir with humans.”
Vili stared off into the distance. “The Olympians never had the intention of integrating us into their society…”
“No,” Dionysus replied.
Sigyn cut in. “What happened…happens…to us after the attack?” she asked, not interested in discussing the humans and ignoring Dionysus’ warning against ‘counterfactuals.’
Silence hung in the air. Sigyn had both her hands wrapped around her stomach, squatting over the dirt. How many times have I lived and died!
Vili pressed on. “And what happens to the Aesir—and to others—involved in this?”
Dionysus rubbed his eyes, switching his gaze between both of them. “Skadi is one tricky bastard, I’ll tell you that. Unlike most other admirals, she rarely does the same thing twice. Dealing with her was difficult…I hope the pilot I brought is still alive.” Dionysus shook his head and continued.
“As you can imagine, dealing with all of the variety in decisions you’d make was difficult. Much to my surprise, replaying the same song produces a different tune. There are manifold points in this conflict that can yield one of many outcomes.”
What? Is that a product of free will or a probability-driven quantum realm? Sigyn didn’t express her thoughts; instead, she stayed keeled over her knees.
Dionysus continued. “For instance, Sigyn, did you take Loki’s gun?”
She snapped a look to Vili in utter shock.
“Remember, I’ve lived this many times. I know pretty much everything you both did while on Earth.”
“No. I didn’t take it.”
“Ahh, ok. See? Taking it leads to the only scenario in which Athena doesn’t kill you.”
“Dionysus, what happens to the Aesir?” Vili said, refocusing the conversation on his original question.
“As I was saying, Skadi escapes. Njord is killed. Regrettably, he died in this version as well…
“Odin and Ve are put on trial. Asgard is ruled by martial law and most Aesir working throughout Olympia are exiled to Asgard.”
Vili didn’t respond, clearly muted from the weight of failure.
Sigyn was slowly allowing her agile mind to wade through these complicated waters. “Are we constantly living fluctuating versions of potential futures? How real can any single version of events be…”
* * *
Don’t let her go down that path! Dionysus interrupted Sigyn’s soliloquy. “While the Aesir are corralled in Asgard, the humans begin exploring Olympia. We easily gain their allegiance by offering them biological and technological advances, communicating our story and intent through specific thought leaders—ensuring their compliance via natural and chemically enhanced persuasion techniques—and offering a common enemy: the Aesir.
“We had already ingrained in humans a tendency to view your people as warlike and fallible by spreading fabricated legends of ‘Aesir’ mythology, which you already came across. Your attempt to ally with Earth is spun—by us—into a failed deception. We use the force you have behind the moon, as well as the benign virus Vili spread, as more evidence of malice.
“Even though I was involved in every detail, I’m still impressed by how well the Olympian’s were able to manipulate you into infiltrating Earth while convincing humans to view you as the enemy.”
Dionysius realized his last sentence risked turning this conversation into a conflict. He needed this interaction to go as smoothly as possible as he still needed to convince Vili and Sigyn to help him. “All that is irrelevant, though. What’s important is that Loki ruins everything. He finds a hitherto unknown virus on Earth in a Huacan facility. It’s extremely contagious, but it’s only transmitted via space-time—something I’ve never seen before. It crawls through the galaxy, wiping out over half of Olympia and crippling another quarter.
“Sometimes he releases it out of anger for the loss of Sigyn, other times he uses it as a bargaining chip for the Book of Thoth. In almost every scenario I’ve lived through so far, the virus ends up being released. After which, Olympia, while fighting against the plague, is forced to deal with your people quickly…which, believe it or not, is not something I’d like to see as a permanent outcome of this conflict.
“Loki has the vial now, and may have already attempted to leave the planet. We need to find him and procure the virus.”
“We?” Vili asked. “How would helping you stop the coming conflict between our peoples?”
“I’ve spoken secretly with a few members of the Council. They’ve already put into motion a plan that will allow the Aesir to occupy their own sovereign space, but only in the event we can return the vial. We can even arrange this outcome to look like you, Vili, successfully infiltrated Earth and negotiated on behalf of your people. But we need to find Loki first.
“Based on what I know about him, he’ll only respond Sigyn.” Dionysus made eye contact with Sigyn as he finished his statement. “We need you to contact him.”
* * *
Sigyn shook her head and fought back tears. She wasn’t ready to face the abrupt new reality she found herself in, let alone accept responsibility as the linchpin of future Olympian-Aesir relations through negotiations with Loki.
“Why do the Olympians need either the Aesir or humans?” Sigyn asked.
“The Olympians are an old and powerful civilization—more concerned with retaining their position in the universe than evolving. Our only real threats lay comfortably on the other side of the galaxy. We need to adopt a culture of exploration and risk. The only way we can do that is borrowing it from another. Of course, that’s just my rationalization. The Council is more concerned with building an army of loyal subjects, increasing our numbers in the face of what they believe to be an imminent war equivalent to the Fracturing. They want a powerful, but obedient, ally.”
“The humans do seem to be an interesting, but a potentially dangerous, species. They have a strong appetite for both theoretical science and…conflict,” Sigyn replied, attempting to distract herself.
“Yes, have you noticed their theories far outpace not only their technology, but even their current foundation of knowledge?”
Sigyn thought for a moment and nodded, subconsciously aware that her analytical mind was quelling the panic. “Now that you mention it, it does seem a bit odd. I read through much of their cutting-edge physics research and the majority of it was acknowledged to be unprovable for at least centuries. They give little thought to the proper advances in technology needed to test their ideas, but that’s not even the strangest aspect about them.
“Their strong proclivity for intra-species hostility is counterintuitive. In theory, their societies should be similar to ours, but their tribalism appears extreme. Even in the face of a common enemy—aliens—humans couldn’t repress their violent nature against each other. It’s almost as if their evolution has been guided, intentionally or not, to make them individualistic and competitive to a fault.”
Dionysus smirked and nodded, hinting that she was on to something. “Let’s get out of Djoser. We need to find a way to contact Loki, and you both need rest.”
“I haven’t given you my decision yet.”
“We both know you have—Loki is your syzygy. Working together, your gestalt makes you a potent duality to contest with. He knows this, consciously or not, which is why he will respond to you, and only you. What does your gut tell you?”
Sigyn affirmed with a nod.
“Great. Let’s head to Zurich.”
* * *
Sigyn sat behind Vili in the Hod’s cockpit while Dionysus followed them in his pronged vessel. She turned one of their burner phones over in her hand, trying to determine how to convey the new situation to Emilia and the rest of COPUOS, while Vili keyed a message for Skadi’s forces. His job was easy: send the passcode—“Ragnarok”—and let Skadi know of the new arrangement.
“What do I say? It was hard enough convincing the humans they were being observed—how am I supposed to explain this new, nuanced pseudo-alliance we have with Olympia?”
“Don’t. Keep it simple. All they need to know for now is that we need to use their COPOUS broadcasting technology to find Loki.”
&
nbsp; “And if they resist?”
“Then we broker a deal with a single leader who’s willing to cooperate, but let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
Sigyn took a deep breath and dialed Emilia. She picked up on the first ring.
“Sigyn?”
“Yes. Were you able to find a way to view the events in Djoser?”
“Yes. We have many questions.”
“And they’ll be answered. For now, it is of utmost importance that we use your global broadcast network to send a message to a missing team member of ours. He has something that will prevent a violent conflict between the Aesir and Olympians, and possibly humans as well.”
There was a pause on Emilia’s end before she answered, her voice carefully measured in words that did not sound like her own. “That is reasonable. We will allow you to broadcast a short, global message.”
“Thank you. We’ll be arriving soon.”
Sigyn pressed the button, as Lugh had shown her, to end the communication and sunk into her chair, exhausted.
“You did well, Sigyn. The worst of this conflict is over and it appears as though we will be regaining our sovereignty.”
Sigyn understood Vili’s praise extended beyond the simple phone call to Emilia. She wasn’t in the mood to rehash the past, though.
“Did you ask Skadi about Zetes, like Dionysus requested?”
“Yeah. He’s alive as far as she knows. She gave me his coordinates—an adjacent planet—and I forwarded them to Dionysus. I’m sure he’ll go collect his colleague.”
She wordlessly nodded and gazed out the cockpit viewport. I have one, “simple” task left.
The quiet ambiance of humming equipment and the backdrop of boundless white, bubbling clouds drained Sigyn of tension, and lulled her to sleep.