Atlantis - Return of the Nation

by Steven Cook

  The noise also increased as birds and animals called to each other and declared their territory or impressed prospective mates high in the canopy. An almost constant buzz of insect noise was an undertone.

  The warriors and sailors moved quietly through the undergrowth, following a well-trodden path. The soft earth and thick layer of fallen leaves deadened their steps.

  Around them the trees blocked more than a few metres view into the forest, the large trunks and lower scrub was so close that it was impossible to get a clear line of vision. Their nostrils were filled with the scent of the forest, a mixture of rain, damp earth, leaf mould and the fragrance of flowers surviving in the poor light.

  Initially the sailors looked nervously around, but after quarter of an hour the relaxed striding of the warriors put them at ease. They didn’t appear to notice that the noise had slowly abated.

  They moved into a slight clearing, where a falling tree had crashed to the jungle floor, taking several smaller trees with it. The late morning sun descended unimpeded down to the group, causing the sailors to sweat in their heavy immersion gear.

  ‘Take a break,’ Saraph indicated that the sailors should set the stretcher down in the shade of the fallen tree.

  The sailors settled Carrick down in the shade and started to remove their heavy immersion suits and outer clothing. The long armed warrior Eraz reached under the trunk and unhooked several water skins, which he handed around.

  As he knelt down to check on Carrick he whispered to the rest.

  ‘Stay down, we are being watched.’ He carefully slipped a knife out of his belt sheath and laid it alongside Danny’s foot.

  ‘Just in case,’ he winked.

  Standing up he took a few paces away from the huddled men. Craig looked at the warriors and noted that they were deployed casually in a rough circle around them. As he watched he could also see that they had surreptitiously tightened the straps on their shields and were holding their javelins ready.

  Clearly, a sound cut across the clearing. A snorting cough, the sound of somebody, something, blowing a lung full of air through their nose caused the sailors to flinch. The noise came from up the path. All noise in the forest died.

  The warriors maintained their positions, continuing to face out into the jungle. A crashing noise accompanied the noises, approaching slowly.

  Danny slowly reached out and picked up the knife by his foot. The glowing metallic blade was alluring, and he gently touched the flat with his finger. His brow furrowed as he felt it vibrate under his touch. As Carl and Fitz manoeuvred the stretcher and Carrick further under the tree he and Craig looked up the path. Slowly something started to manifest itself from the shadows of the jungle.

  The warriors maintained their positions around the sailors, except the two facing up the path. They hefted their javelins on a level with their shoulders into a throwing position.

  A creature slowly appeared from the deep shadows. It’s head leading the way. Atop the head of a massive bull a pair of razor tipped horns spread three feet wide. The eyes were blazing in anger and foam was dripping from its mouth.

  The creature took a further couple of steps towards the warriors. The bull’s head was supported, not on a bull’s body, but on the body of an immense man. Hunched over as the creature was, it stood over seven feet tall. Fur ran over the creature’s massive shoulders and down the centre of its heavily muscled torso. A heavy leather kilt was belted around its waist, covering the heavily muscled thighs.

  A further step forward and the creature threw its arms over its head, brandishing a huge axe and hauling itself to its full eight-foot height. Swinging the axe back down it thrust its head forward and bellowed at the warriors, spraying foam and the stench of rotten meat at them.

  Danny and Craig cowered back unconsciously. They wondered why the rest of the warriors hadn’t turned to face the threat of the Minotaur, indeed why they hadn’t turned and fled.

  The reason soon materialised. With a bellowing roar two further Minotaurs leapt out of the darkness of the heavy trees to either side of the path. Each was armed with a six-feet long axe with a blade almost two feet wide.

  One leapt directly at Saraph, swinging the axe directly at his shield. The experienced warrior dropped under the swing and lunged past the creature.

  The creature now faced Eraz, who jabbed his javelin at the creatures face, distracting it away from Saraph. The Minotaur tried to catch Eraz with its axe, but he kept skipping and ducking from side to side, showing surprising agility and keeping himself between the creature and the huddled sailors.

  Saraph was now beyond the creature. He let the shield slip from his arm, and grabbing his javelin two handed, thrust it high into the Minotaur’s back. The creature bellowed in pain, spraying bloody foam into the air. It spun around, ripping the javelin from Saraph’s hands.

  Eraz now attacked. He braced his feet and thrust his javelin through the Minotaur’s lower back. The wickedly sharp Orichalcum blade slid between two of the creature’s vertebrae. With an enormous effort of his shoulders, Eraz twisted the shaft of the javelin, causing the blade to rotate, severing the spinal cord.

  As all motor functions to the creature’s lower body and legs were destroyed it collapsed onto its front. It raised its head and looked up in time to see Saraph driving his short sword directly at its eye.

  The blade slid easily into the eye, ruining it before crunching through the back of the socket and into the brain beyond. The Minotaur collapsed instantly, sliding off the blade.

  Elsewhere in the clearing the Warriors were not faring so well. In the initial rush one of them had raised his shield to block a blow aimed at him. The shield, designed to withstand attacks from men, crumpled like paper under the massive blow of the Minotaur’s axe.

  The axe swept through the ruined shield and into the Warrior’s chest, smashing aside his armour and destroying his chest cavity. The body of the warrior was thrown into his companion, knocking him from his feet.

  Stunned, he didn’t see the Minotaur jump. With a sickening crunch the weight of the Minotaur landed on his chest and head, crushing bones and killing him instantly.

  The Minotaur joined the first and faced the remaining warriors. The pair hunched over, axes held before them. Their nostrils flared, dragging in huge lungs full of air before expelling it in a snort.

  Suddenly they move in tandem. One made a feint at one of the warriors. The Warrior fell for the action and moved away. The second Minotaur anticipated his dodge and met it with its axe. The blow shattered the warrior’s hip and sent him crashing into a pair of his colleagues beside him.

  The Minotaurs jumped on the chance and leapt into the gap created in the warrior’s line. The one closest to the fallen men stamped on the throat of one, crushing his windpipe, and swept its axe across the face of the other. Both men stayed down.

  Saraph and his remaining men withdrew a few yards and grouped together in front of the fallen tree sheltering the sailors.

  The Minotaurs glared at the warriors. The larger noticed the sailors and moved its head slightly to peer around the warriors at them, sniffing deeply. It grunted at its companion and nodded at the cowering seamen.

  As Danny gripped and regripped the handle of the knife, wondering what use it would be against such a creature. Craig looked around for something to defend himself with. He picked up a length of wood then dropped it as an idea came to him. He dragged his discarded immersion suit towards himself and started to frantically search through the pockets.

  ‘Prepare to throw,’ Saraph quietly voiced to his remaining five men. They subtly altered the grip on their Javelins.

  The Minotaurs stepped slowly towards the men, the element of surprise now gone. Their axes wove through the air, the massive weight easily supported by the powerful creatures.

  ‘On my word,’ said Saraph.

  The Warriors drew back their arms. The Minotaurs hunched
down and held the massive axes higher.

  ‘Throw!’ Saraph ordered. He slashed his sword down in emphasis.

  The Warriors cast their javelins at short range, three at one Minotaur, and two at the other. The men immediately attempted to recover their balance and draw their swords.

  The Minotaur targeted by three javelins was hit three times. The narrow points of the javelins pierced deep into the beast’s chest and abdomen. It bellowed in pain, dropping its axe. It looked down in annoyance at the weapons projecting from its body and then grabbed the javelin stuck in the left side of its chest.

  With a massive wrench the creature pulled the weapon free. In doing so the barbed head wrought more damage. The barbs tore through the tissues of the lung and heart. The Minotaur dropped where it stood, still gripping the bloody javelin. A gush of blood accompanied its dying breath.

  The second Minotaur was luckier. One of the throws was high. It ripped through the left shoulder muscle and disappeared into the trees with a splash of blood. The other it caught on its axe blade, redirecting it up and behind it. It reacted to the throws by launching itself at the clustered warriors, drawing the axe back in preparation to catch as many of them as possible within its deadly arc.

  As the warriors attempted to drag their swords free of their scabbards Craig stood up and thrust his arm between the warriors directly at the Minotaur. Clutched in his hand was a signal flare, pulled from the breast pocket of the immersion suit. The end was sputtering with angry red flames.

  The Minotaur paused, looking at the strange flame. It opened its mouth to roar when, with a deep thudding noise the parachute flare burst from the flames and sped at the creature, catching it directly in the face.

  The superheated charge started to burn the fur and flesh, causing the Minotaur to roar in anger and pain. It dropped its axe and tore at its own flesh, attempting to claw out the phosphorous-based flames. Within thirty seconds the creature fell backwards, dead. The fire continued to burn its way into its skull for a few seconds more before flickering out.

  Craig still stood with his arm stretched out. He was dragging air into his lungs and expelling it in short gasps. Danny slowly stood, took the used flare from his friend’s hand, and then gently pushed his arm down.

  Craig took a deep gulp of air, and then looked away from the devastation caused by the flare. The stench of the burnt fur and flesh caused him to drop to his knees and start retching.

  Danny knelt by his side, offering him one of the water bags.

  ‘It is a good job that your weapons only work once,’ said Saraph softly.

  Danny looked up from where he knelt, a sad look on his face.

  ‘It’s not a weapon; it’s a signal flare, a means of requesting help,’ he said.

  ‘By Poseidon!’ swore Eraz, ‘if that was not a weapon I dread to think what a real weapon is like.’

  ‘You really wouldn’t like to see what some of our weapons are like. Even we are afraid to use them.’

  ‘Why do they frighten you?’ Saraph asked.

  ‘This flare killed the Minotaur by burning it. We have weapons that have the potential of vaporizing an area twenty or more miles in diameter.’

  ‘Vaporizing?’ Eraz asked.

  Danny thought for a moment.

  ‘Like a drop of water hitting a hotplate. It disappears instantly. Absolutely nothing is left behind.’

  The two warriors looked at each other.

  ‘The other thing about the weapons is that they can be dropped from the sky or fired from thousands of miles away. You can’t see them coming and have no chance of outrunning the blast. If you are unlucky enough to survive the explosion you will probably die anyway from radiation poisoning.’

  ‘What is that?’

  ‘Your body would slowly get sick and you would get worse and worse until you died. It would have been better to die immediately.’ Danny was saddened by the thought of a nuclear explosion.

  ‘We need to get you to Atlantis as soon as possible.’ Saraph turned to his remaining men.

  ‘Strip the bodies and lay them out. There is no time to bury them. We need to get moving before any more turn up.’

  The remaining warriors moved quickly and laid out their dead comrades. The seamen looked on, wondering what they had got themselves into.

  *

  The White House Situation Room 22nd May

  The President of the United States and his Joint Chiefs of Staff had been joined by a group of intelligence experts who were manipulating the images being transmitted by the satellite. They had watched in almost real time the events from when the survivors had met up with the Rangers, to their capture and subsequent removal from the beach.

  They had also received the messages passed by Danny to H.M.S. Daring, and followed his party through the jungle until they were attacked.

  ‘What on earth is going on down there?’ said the President.

  ‘It looks like one of our people lent a hand to some of the islanders,’ suggested Jack Henry.

  ‘Which would suggest that there are at least two factions on the island? Those who attacked the Rangers, those who are helping the Brits, and a third faction who may be from the first faction or yet another one,’ mused General Norton.

  ‘That’s going to make it difficult getting out guys back,’ asked the President.

  General Peter Ciuffetelli started his briefing.

  ‘Based on what the British say, and our satellite observations, it looks like the Rangers and survivors are being taken north. Both parties are keeping pretty close to this river here.’ He indicated the river running north/south.

  ‘The river leads to a small settlement and then onto this city. I know it sounds far fetched, but according to literature, this city fits the description of Atlantis. There are a series of rings of land and water, surrounded by a densely populated area.’

  General Ciuffetelli let one of the intelligence analysts take over.

  ‘According to texts from Socrates the inner rings surround the temple dedicated to Cleito and Poseidon, who are supposedly the ancestors of all the Atlantians, and also the Royal Palaces. The canals are navigable.’ As he spoke he indicated areas on the display.

  ‘If we could protect one of our smaller ships from the effect of the island, we could sail directly to the city. However, according to the stories, the Atlantian Army was supposed to be the best in the world. Based on the fact we cannot rely on modern weaponry or technology we would have to rely on more primitive means should we attempt an armed rescue.’

  ‘Sticks and stones,’ suggested Jack Henry.

  ‘Indeed sir,’ concluded the analyst.

  ‘That means we don’t just walk in with our demands. So how do we open negotiations if we cannot get on and off the island? I want my men back!’ The President slammed his fist down on the table in frustration.

  ‘Sir, there are foundations that have built replica boats like Viking Longboats or Greek Galleys. Would one of those get up the river?’ suggested Jack Henry.

  ‘It’s a possibility,’ said the President.

  ‘I don’t think that would be a good idea Mr President. Rough calculations suggest that their armed forces number in the region of six million. No doubt they will have naval or river defences,’ the analyst added.

  ‘We’re not looking at invading; all we want is to get our people back. Do a feasibility study to see if it can be done and what the chances would be. See what you can get from the satellites and report to General Ciuffetelli.’

  The analyst gathered his papers and left the room.

  ‘Everybody else, see what else you can come up with. We will reconvene in an hour.’

  *

  Fifth Phalanx Patrol Area Arcanadia 22nd May

  ‘Were they Minotaurs?’ asked Fitz.

>   Eraz finished straightening the arms and legs of one of his dead colleagues then stood up and approached the sailors. He handed them sheathed swords, which they looked at curiously before slinging them across their backs. The rest of the dead warrior’s equipment and armour had been strapped to a travois made from a pair of branches cut from the fallen tree.

  ‘No, strictly speaking they are Minoans. Their king is titled The Minotaur and that has tended to stick as a name. They are one of the races that were removed when Zeus and Poseidon took Arcanadia from the world.’

  ‘One of the races?’ Danny offered Eraz his knife back.

  ‘Thank you.’ He took his knife and returned it to the sheath at his belt.

  ‘There are several races that no longer had a place in the world as we knew. Mankind was becoming more and more widespread and was forcing the older races from their habitat.’ Eraz continued.

  ‘There’s no change there then,’ said Danny.

  ‘Unfortunately many of the creatures are hostile to man, and as a consequence tend to attack whenever we enter the territories they have claimed. We have a strict policy that we only defend ourselves.’

  ‘So what other species can we expect to run into?’ asked Craig.

  ‘On this side of Arcanadia and close to Atlantis there are the Minoans. As more of Arcanadia rises there will be harpies to the west. The East is home to the Naiads and Dryads. They tend to be more tolerant. To the North in the mountains there are Sphinx, Phoenix and Chimaeras. There are several other rarer species but we don’t encounter them very often.’

  ‘A right who’s who of mythology then,’ said Craig.

  The two sailors took their places at the corners of Carrick’s stretcher and lifted him into the air. Carrick winced in pain, but held onto the javelins that had been laid beside him.

  ‘It is not mythology here. It is reality,’ said Eraz.

  ‘Do they all tend to attack on sight?’ Fitz joined in the conversation.

  Eraz took up his place on the left of the stretcher, taking up the travois.