“Considering the sheer number of people on Earth, it really seems hopeless. I mean, look at Washington. Just a few blocks from where the President lives, people are living in squalor.” I feel exasperated. It’s so hopeless. “Where do you even begin?”
He smiles. “How do you eat an elephant?”
“Yes. One bite at a time. But there are seven billion people on Earth. How many do you think are living in poverty?”
“Too many. And since we are talking about pachyderms, wouldn’t you agree that population growth is the elephant in the room—the one that your leaders have been reluctant to acknowledge?”
“Oh, yes. Mom and I talk about that all the time.”
“But it is a topic that is gaining traction. It’s just going to take time, Ari. Olympians have gone through the process. It’s painful and it takes a very long time. Human life expectancy has risen dramatically during the past seventy years, without a correlative decrease in reproductive rates. It’s a simple concept, but difficult and delicate to implement.”
“I hope I’m around to see it implemented,” I sigh, as I realize how far humans have to go.
“There’s a very good chance you will.”
“Oh, yes. Immortality.”
Davin grins. “Yes, you will have time to observe the process. We will observe it together. It should make for interesting conversation.”
“Olympus is so amazing. Low crime rates, no slums, a world government. How can a world government even work? Who protects the people? Who keeps the government from becoming corrupt or tyrannical?”
“We do, Love. The Warriors do.”
“I don’t understand. Soldiers run this world?”
“We are not really soldiers, Ari.”
“I forgot. We’re more like Star Wars Jedi,” I say with a wink.
“Let’s walk down to the promenade. The sunsets are beautiful there.”
As we walk, I immerse myself in the beauty that surrounds me. Portal City is so pristine, so idyllic, so…
A small furry animal darts in front of me, pauses for a second, and then scurries away. It’s no larger than a squirrel, but it looks like a monkey. Its little face is adorable.
“What was that, Davin?” I ask excitedly.
“A vorkin. They are the smallest primates on Olympus and as abundant as squirrels on Earth.”
“They’re so cute!”
“I guess they are. But they can be a nuisance, too. Don’t ever feed one, or you’ll never get rid of it.”
“Do you have zoos and museums on Olympus?”
“We have many museums, but no zoos. Some museums are equipped with virtual reality devices that allow you to see, feel, and smell Olympian wildlife—without being eaten. Of course, you can also explore the wilderness, see animals in their natural habitats—but then you could be eaten,” he says with a smile.
“Oh.” I gaze at the distant mountains. What kinds of ferocious critters are lurking out there?
“Will you take me to the museums. I would love to see them. All of them!”
“I would be delighted to, Ari.”
It strikes me that I may be the only human to ever walk on the surface of an alien planet. Then again, I’m not actually human. “Am I the first human to visit Olympus?”
“You are not human.”
“Yeah. Um, you know what I mean.”
“You are the first person born on Earth to visit Olympus.”
“Have you never wanted to share your technology? Couldn’t Olympian science help humans?”
“It could. But in the wrong hands, our technology could cause mass suffering.”
“Do the Zon have scientists?”
“No. Their role on Olympus did not involve science. And even if it did, they would never share technology with humans. Their raison d'être is to cause suffering, not to cure cancer.”
“I see. So, there is only one portal. Right?”
“Yes.”
“Is there any other way to travel between Earth and Olympus?”
“No.”
“So Olympus is safe from the Zon. They can’t sneak in and they don’t have the smarts to create their own portal. Is that right?”
“Yes.”
My head is spinning. There is so much I have to learn. So very much.
Chapter 11
Ahead of us, I can see water, and my excitement meter rises. “Is that an ocean, Davin?”
“Yes. It’s called the Promethean Sea.”
“The Greek thing again, huh?”
He nods. “And this is the promenade,” he says, pointing to a lovely expanse of blue lawn in front of us.
It’s beautiful. Davin and I sit down on a bench overlooking the sea and I snuggle close to him. The breeze blowing in is warm and smells of salt.
“How big is the sea?” I ask.
“The Promethean is our only ocean. It is about twenty-five percent larger than all of the oceans of Earth combined.”
“Is Olympus that much larger than Earth or do you have less land mass?”
“Olympus and Earth are close in size, but our land mass is smaller.”
“I see. Olympus is so amazing, Davin. And the Warriors really run the government?”
“It’s more like we keep the balance. Olympus is administered by Sages—like Thalia. We work alongside them. We complement each other.”
“Thalia is a big shot then?” I ask.
“She is our most powerful Sage and the most influential member of the Governing Council.”
“She’s like the Prime Minister, then?”
“In a way. Whatever she decides, the Council will usually agree to.”
“If Thalia is the most powerful Sage, who is the most powerful Warrior?”
He looks at me and arches his brow—but doesn’t answer.
“You?” I ask.
“I am one of six Warrior Masters. We work as a team.”
“That’s impressive.” I wonder if it’s considered appropriate for a Master to fraternize with a newbie.
“Will being with me cause you any problems?”
“Absolutely not. You’re stuck with me, little Padawan.”
I smile as I inch closer to him.
“I guess there could be worse things than being stuck with you,” I say, as I stroke his cheek.
As my fingers near his lips, he captures them, kissing each one, and causing little shivers to run down my spine. If fingers could smile, mine would be grinning from knuckle to knuckle.
“Tell me a story, Master. Tell me about the Warriors.” I stare at him, doing my best impression of wide-eyed wonder.
“Sometimes you make it very hard for me to be serious, you know?” He massages his temple.
I hope I haven’t given him a headache. “Sorry.”
“What would you like to know?” he asks.
“How did the Warriors defeat the Zon?”
“Do you remember what I said about the Zon yesterday?”
“Yes,” I say. “They helped to nurture Olympian society, but then they got tired of their mission, and they turned evil.”
“Right. A little over a million years ago, the Zon had basically enslaved the entire planet. Things were very bad. Then, on an island called Aegia, in the middle of the Promethean Sea, scores of men and women with remarkable powers appeared—”
“Wait,” I say. “They appeared? Where did they come from?”
“I will get to that,” he replies. “Be patient.”
“Sorry. Go ahead.”
“They were the Warrior Elders. Their leader, Damas, acquired a ship, and the Warriors set sail for Xandra—the main Zon stronghold. The Zon were used to being the most powerful creatures on Olympus. When the Warriors appeared, the Zon did not take them seriously. Within a few hours, thousands of Zon lay dead.”
“And then what happened?”
“The Zon had outposts all over Olympus. Damas and his Warriors spent nearly a year going from outpost to outpost. The results were the same. The Zon were
defeated and the Warriors established a new Olympian government, which they oversaw—and continue to oversee to this day.”
Incredible. If I wasn’t sitting on a bench, a thousand light-years from home, I’d find this very hard to believe. “But some hid and then escaped to Earth?”
“The Elders were not aware that any of the Zon had eluded them. When the first Earth portal was completed, the surviving Zon attacked. Hundreds of them. Most were killed, but a large number managed to escape through the portal.”
“And they hid on Earth? Did you try to find them?”
“Yes. Several Warrior teams were dispatched, but by the time we arrived, the Zon were well-hidden.”
“Couldn’t you detect them?”
“Earth has a lot of hiding places. We need to be in close physical proximity in order to detect them. They remained underground until human civilization began to flourish.”
“And then they came out of hiding and found a bunch of helpless, hapless victims?”
“Yes. They derive pleasure from the pain and suffering of innocent mortals. Through the ages, they have been responsible for mass killings, human bondage, and unspeakable acts of terror. They are truly evil beings.”
“So you have hunted them all these years, yet they still thrive?”
“They are not easy to find among billions of humans.”
“But sometimes you do. Right?”
“Yes, but we must be careful. We are not permitted to reveal ourselves to humans.”
“The prime directive?” I ask.
“Excuse me?”
I chuckle. “From the old Star Trek show. Starfleet was prohibited from interfering in the natural development of alien societies. At all costs.”
Davin smiles. “Good analogy. We could affect the natural course of things. And there is always the risk that revealing ourselves could cause mass hysteria. The Zon have been recruiting humans for millennia. There are politicians, journalists, celebrities, and other influential humans under Zon control. We could easily be made to appear as the villains.”
“Good point. So how have you avoided detection all these years?”
“We strike with stealth. But we have not gone totally unnoticed. Thankfully, human nature works to our advantage. Those who witness our powers are written off as unbalanced, paranoid, or delusional. In ancient times, we were described as demigods, heroes, or angels.”
“So, we are mythological creatures. I knew it!”
“Ari, I’m trying to be serious.”
“Sorry.” I pretend to wipe the smile off my face. “So, how many Zon are there on Earth?”
“The number could be in the hundreds. We are not really certain.”
“You told me that Warriors cannot reproduce. What about the Zon?”
“There is no evidence they can.”
“That’s good. Do the Zon have an endgame in mind? Do they want to exterminate the human race?”
“We don’t think so. It would not be in their interest to destroy humanity. That would eliminate the source of their pleasure. And it would allow us to hunt them with impunity. The Zon seem to be more interested in controlling and influencing human leaders. Not replacing them.”
“Davin, were the Zon instrumental in starting World War II?”
“Yes. They were very instrumental.”
“And didn’t over fifty million people die during that war?”
“Yes.”
“How bad do you think it would be if humans found out about you? Relatively speaking, of course.”
“Some of us would agree with you.”
“Would you?”
“Yes. But it would take a lot of planning and a total commitment to the cause.”
I sigh. “Maybe someday we can make it happen. Or maybe we can rehabilitate the Zon. Can they be reformed?”
“No. They are pure evil. They cannot be changed.”
“Can we be turned evil? Can the Zon corrupt us?”
“A Zon can trick a Warrior into letting his or her defenses down. But a Warrior cannot become evil unless he or she chooses to.”
“Has that ever happened? Do evil Warriors exist?”
“Yes. Several Warrior Elders joined the Zon rebellion.”
“Davin…?”
“Ari?”
“We’re angels, aren’t we?” He doesn’t need to answer, because I know it. I feel it in my soul.
He arches his brow. “Do you think we are?”
I lock eyes with him. “I do.”
“I guess it’s possible,” he says with pursed lips and the barest hint of a smile.
“You’re holding back.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. It is a very logical assumption. Don’t you think?”
“It is plausible.”
“It is probable. Are you going to give me a straight answer?”
“Eventually.”
“That was not a straight answer. I’ll let you slide for a few moments. But be forewarned…I will hound you incessantly until I get one.”
“A straight answer?”
“Yes.”
“Fair enough.”
I sigh. He is playing with me. He’s having a good time. But so am I.
“So what happened to the Elders?”
“They watched over Olympus for several centuries. And they bore children. When those children had grown into mature Warriors and Sages, the Elders left.”
“Where did they go?”
“It is written in the Gia, the sacred book of Olympus, that the Elders went home. Damas requested an audience with the Governing Council. He informed them that he, along with the other Elders, had been called home. Their work was finished and they would be leaving. The councilors were dismayed. When they asked Damas who would protect them, he said that the children would. He said that the young ones were powerful Warriors and wise Sages. Damas told the council that they would be in capable hands.”
“You are a child of the Elders?”
“Yes. All Warriors and Sages are.”
“And you knew your parents?”
“Of course. They raised me.”
“And they told you where they came from?”
He nodded.
“Davin, I’m not afraid to hear the truth.”
He places his chin on my head. “No matter how outlandish it sounds?”
“Outlandish? I am sitting on a bench a thousand light-years from home. I have a very open mind right now, Darling.”
Davin clears his throat, and his expression becomes serious. “Very well. Let’s revisit the Zon for a moment. They grew weary of their work on Olympus because they felt abandoned, so they rebelled. They renounced their allegiance to Paradise.”
I gasp. “Paradise?”
“Yes.”
“Did all of them rebel?”
“In the end, yes.”
“And the Warriors were sent from Paradise to set things right?”
“Yes.”
“But some Warriors rebelled too. Right?”
“A few.”
“So we are angels, and the rebels are fallen angels,” I say, barely above a whisper.
Davin nods.
“I’ll be damned.” I chuckle inside at my choice of invective, and my mind begins to wander. What are the odds? I imagine myself born into an impoverished family living on the African savannah; or to Chinese peasants barely able to feed me; or to the leader of a drug cartel. My life could have taken so many different paths. But…I’m an angel. Absently I look up into the sky and smile as I mouth the words ‘thank you’.
“No,” Davin says with a smile. “You will never be damned. Never.”
I smile back. I guess he’s right. But there is a price to pay. My humanity. My dreams, hopes, and goals are no longer relevant. I won’t be a paleoanthropologist. I won’t have a house in the country. And I’ll never be able to…
“You have parents, yet you cannot make babies. Why?”
“Sometimes you change subjects so fast
that I’m afraid I will get whiplash,” he says, looking amused.
“Sorry.”
“Humans are not immortal, yet there are seven billion of them. Imagine how many Warriors and Sages there would be if we were allowed to reproduce.”
“Oh. Can’t Warriors and Sages be made fertile?”
“Theoretically. No one has ever asked me that. It’s an interesting question.”
“That’s why I asked,” I say with pursed lips.
“Are you upset that you will not be able to have children?”
I imagine myself holding a baby. My baby. And I feel sad, because now I know it’s never going to happen. “Yes, I am. I grew up on Earth, Davin. Most human girls want to be mothers.”
“I’m sorry, Ari.”
I’m sorry, too. If my parents were able to have me, maybe there’s a way. “Why were the Elders allowed to have children?”
Davin runs his fingers through his hair. “The children replaced their parents, who were then allowed to return to Paradise. It was thought that since we were born and raised on Olympus, we would feel more bound to the mortal world, and less-inclined to rebel.”
“Oh. But don’t you feel abandoned by your parents?”
“Not really. It was not as if they left when we were children. My parents were here for several hundred years.”
“Are they ever able to visit?”
“Occasionally.”
“They check up on you, huh?”
“In a manner of speaking, I guess they do.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were an angel when we were at the Falls?”
He sighs long and deep. “I didn’t think you were ready to hear it. Angel is a human word, which has very specific implications. I think we are far more interesting than the angels of human lore—even if we don’t have wings. Don’t you agree?”
I think about it. Based on what I remember from the Bible, we are way more interesting. “Yes, I do. And I always thought the whole wing thing was absurd.”
“They make lovely Christmas cards, though,” Davin says.
“That they do. Is there an Olympian word for angel?”
“Angelos.”
“That’s the Greek word, too?”
“Yes.”
“Something is really bothering me, Davin.”
“And what is that?”
“The mortals on Olympus know we’re angels. Right?”
Ariel Rising Page 9
