by Luke Romyn
Not again.
Not like before.
He thrashed through the nothingness, his agony nothing compared with the roiling emotions bursting through him. He had to get loose, had to continue his mission. If he didn't, he'd be lost forever. If only his parents were alive.
The memory popped unbidden into Wes's wracked consciousness. It hadn't been his fault.
It was my fault, damn it!
The fire had been electrical. The smoke killed them before they felt a thing.
I heard them screaming!
Just because he'd decided to spend the night in his tree house, it didn't mean their deaths should weigh on his conscience.
I could have saved them! I should have been there!
He'd only been eight, what could he have done?
I should have woken up. They were screaming in the flames! THEY'RE STILL SCREAMING!!!
Wes convulsed so heavily that in any other environment he would have torn every ligament in his body and shredded his muscles. His back arched to a degree the human spine is not supposed to bend and twist. As it was, with the rapid dissolution and reformation of his body, Wes remained unharmed... at least physically.
I KILLED THEM!!!
Wes's body shimmered and thrashed. He knew he'd killed his parents. It was his battery charger which had malfunctioned and started the fire. If he'd been in the house he could have saved them. He could have....
He could still protect people. He could save other people.
I want my parents back. Alive.
But he knew that couldn't happen. Even manipulating the prototype jet to travel into the past had failed. He might be able to fool the people from this time, but he couldn't lie to himself. He'd been trying to return in order to prevent his childhood home from burning down. The ship wasn't designed for it, but he'd convinced it to go beyond its set parameters, and he'd torn through time, plummeting out of control into the past.
Because the ship was sentient. It could think for itself.
But that had also been Wes's downfall. In linking with the ship, he had partially opened up his mind to it, and it had glimpsed his plan. Changing events in time, while not illegal - mainly because nobody had travelled back in time before - was still deemed so potentially disastrous that the ship had altered course at the last moment and thrown them into this time instead.
The problem now was Wes couldn't get back.
Traveling back in time had always been theorized, even Albert Einstein had written about it. Unfortunately, travelling forward in time was impossible; simply because it hadn't happened yet.
Wes was stuck in a past which wasn't his.
Initially he had raged against the unfairness of the situation, but then his training had kicked in. The SAS did not cry about unfairness. They acted or they re-acted, but they didn't whine.
And so Wes had organized a deal with the President of the United States - the eminent power during this time - and he remained free from any authority as long as he assisted with the development of advanced technology. He had also requested to be placed in charge of close protection on the highest risk target they had; in this case it was Doctor Talbot Harrison.
And Wes was failing that mission!
Once more Wes thrashed about in the nothingness, the agony of his constant molecular deconstruction and reformation pushed aside as his absolute need to protect Talbot came to the fore.
You can save him. Just do what he did.
The thought came to Wes unbidden, and instantly he relaxed his thrashing. He still held himself tense, ready at the first opportunity to break free from this nothingness, but he had to think logically. Talbot had been beside him, enduring the same agony Wes was, when suddenly he had vanished.
No, that wasn't exactly true. He had done something first, but what had it been? Wes wracked his tortured mind. What the hell had Talbot done? And then it came to him through the haze of pain.
Talbot had done absolutely nothing. In his mind's eye, Wes pictured the doctor once more, just before he had disappeared, remembering Talbot's relaxed nature, and the way he had smiled....
Smiled? Why would he smile?
Another jolt of power shredded Wes, and he cried out soundlessly. He'd been here for hours... days... years? Time had no meaning in this nothing place. Maybe if he just rested for a while....
And then it came to him.
Wes smiled, relinquishing control. He allowed his body to be fully consumed by whatever energy resided in this place; the same power which had been testing his intentions before allowing him access to whatever lay beyond it. It was a most remarkable precaution, effectively barring anyone with aggressive natures or intentions. It was almost like....
And then he was gone.
***
Wes crashed heavily to the ground, but tucked and rolled his body, flipping smoothly into a crouch with his M4A5 up and cocked against his shoulder - nostrils flaring, scanning for hostiles.
The area was clear. No motion beyond the natural movement of the blue trees, beyond the stockade walls -
Blue trees?
This caused Wes to pause. As usual when entering a hostile situation, details were bypassed with the need to ascertain necessary facts: enemy potentials, locations, armament, probable retreat positions and such. The blue trees had been missed in his initial scan of the alien landscape, along with the purple sky, red sun and green clouds. He shook his head and dismissed it - these things held no real relevance right now.
Wes quickly checked himself, finding all his gear - including Chiron's sword and his backpack - still in place. He looked around once more, noting in greater detail the condition of the barricade as opposed to the steel-reinforced gates. He could tell it had been a singular, concentrated attack on the weakest part of the external structure. The most logical culprit was Porphyrion, now buried on the Earth side of the rift and unlikely to be a further threat. Wes doubted the King of the Gigantes would have survived the collapse of the enormous pyramid. Even if he had, it seemed highly unlikely he'd be able to bypass the rift's defensive measures to re-enter this world. At the very least they would delay him for a long time... or so Wes hoped.
Regardless of what might happen, Wes had to move out. A cursory examination of the centaur corpses drew no emotion from the hardened veteran - he'd seen too much death to start caring now. No, he only cared about one thing, and that was protecting Doctor Talbot Harrison.
Wes crouched down, noting the light tread pattern of the doctor's running shoe imprinted in the sandy earth. He followed these prints to a place where the doctor had stood still waiting for....
Whatever had charged at Talbot had feet like a man, but they were over a meter long! And its weight! Judging from the stride length and depth of the impressions, Wes guessed the thing weighed close to twenty tons and around fifty feet tall! But whatever it was, it hadn't killed the archaeologist. There wasn't a trace of blood anywhere near where the two had stood.
The doctor's footsteps seemed to follow those of the giant; who now appeared to be merely walking, judging by the difference in the stride as compared to when it had charged Talbot. The fact Talbot was following the large figure also showed he was acting compliantly, and thus not in any danger so far.
Wes sat back on his haunches, musing over this new player in the game. He finally shrugged, taking off in the direction the doctor had gone with the giant.
***
Talbot didn't ask Briareus to carry him.
The multi-limbed - and headed! - giant led the way through the broken blue forest, down exactly the same path from which he had originally emerged. Talbot trudged on behind the huge creature, wondering for the thousandth time if he were doing the right thing.
All of Talbot's questions were either ignored or answered with a simple, "Ask boss," and Talbot's frustration was running high. Briareus had not imparted anything useful since his snippet about them being in Olympia. But even this was hardly helpful to Talbot. Olympia was back in Greece, in his o
wn world, not here. Talbot had even been there once, and he couldn't recall seeing a single blue tree during his month-long tour.
Olympia played home to the original Olympic Games during ancient times; the Games themselves were shrouded deep within Greek mythology, many believing them based upon the twelve tasks set for Heracles, which in turn were molded into the modern games of athletic endurance. Some believed it was actually Heracles - now commonly known as Hercules - who had paced out the size of the stadium in Olympia, but this seemed so far-fetched Talbot had never researched beyond the surface mythology. He was an archaeologist, using details to discern the truth about structures. People like his brother dealt in rumors and stories. Talbot liked to work with facts; tangible evidence of things which had occurred.
About twenty minutes into their journey, the unlikely duo encountered a junction where they had to travel close to the coastline - a pristine stretch of beach covered in pinkish sand, beautiful teal waves crashing against the shore. The ocean was the first thing in this world which even came close to anything Talbot recognized from back home, and he paused to smile at its beauty.
The waves erupted.
A massive upheaval from the sea gave Talbot only a moment to recognize the threat before a huge green serpentine head - one of several - shot down and consumed him whole. Darkness surrounded Talbot, and he was swallowed down a long throat, squeezing and sliding him at the same time, making it impossible for him to move his arms, let alone get a grip on the slime-covered walls.
Panic threatened to engulf him, and Talbot searched deep within for the calm confidence he had felt when facing down Briareus - but found it had abandoned him. Granted, when he'd felt that confidence he wasn't being eaten alive, but Talbot still found it unsettling that his confidence could be so fickle. He couldn't worry about that now. He had to worry about being eaten.
Talbot pushed his arms away from his sides, trying to slow his progress down the creature's throat. He didn't want to end up in the stomach; that was one thing he was sure of. For a start, it would be full of acid and, secondly, Talbot was pretty sure there wouldn't be any air in there - or rather, no air he wanted to breathe.
The entire beast suddenly lurched sideways, as though hit by something massive, and Talbot was momentarily thankful for the swaddling effect of the throat. Without it, he would have been thrown about mercilessly. Another mammoth collision knocked the beast the other way and Talbot's descent down the throat paused.
Still enshrouded in absolute darkness, the enormous jolting and concussive blows were so disorientating Talbot couldn't tell which way was up. He was thrown, left, right, around in a complete circle. Through it all he thought he could hear some sort of roaring, and remembered the multiple heads and long necks he had glimpsed in the moment before being snatched.
Another blow seemed to knock the beast onto its side and the constricting throat muscles instantly released him. In a way, this was almost the worst moment for Talbot, as the throat was no longer controlled. It suddenly relaxed and the weight of unsupported flesh threatened to smother him completely like an enormous blanket made of meat. Indeed, the breath left in Talbot's lungs was rapidly expelled, and he fought to gather another before realizing there was no air to be had.
Talbot gasped, fighting down panic as his brain began to cloud and everything became hazy. He had the brief sensation of something tearing into the flesh around him -
AIR!!!
Sucking in a huge gasp, Talbot barely noticed the many hands grasping him, hauling him free, coarse sand and stones beneath him as he was gently laid down. He opened his eyes - wincing as the bright red sunlight hit his face. But he was free! And alive! He glanced around and saw Briareus standing on the sand nearby, beside a beast the likes which Talbot was finding himself less and less surprised by. He stood slowly, shakily testing his legs before moving to stand beside the giant.
The creature was another giant, even larger than Briareus. Around the same height as a ten-story building, the fallen beast had absolutely enormous hands; each boasting scores of column-thick fingers - one of which he now saw was completely torn loose.
It took Talbot a moment to realize this was the creature which had swallowed him whole, but it hadn't been its head which had done so. Each finger was mouthed, a blind serpent able to consume anything it touched, which it had apparently done so effortlessly with Talbot. He turned his gaze to stare up at his companion - the giant, multi-limbed creature which had destroyed this monstrosity in order to save his life.
"Thank you, Briareus," Talbot said.
Several heads turned to look at him. "Why?"
"You saved my life." The giant shrugged, as though this was of little importance. "What was that thing?" Talbot asked.
Briareus pointed at the dead giant. "Him Typhoeus. Boss put him in Tartarus. Him get loose." Briareus turned all of his heads toward Talbot, the rage within his gaze accusing the doctor more than any words ever could. "Your fault," he growled.
Talbot took a step back, but remembered his former vow and stood his ground, holding the gaze of one of Briareus's faces. "Why is it my fault?"
"You open gate. You break chains of Tartarus. Olympia now threatened. But me not allowed to kill you, boss say."
It was clear Briareus held no love for Talbot and had only protected him out of respect for his enigmatic 'boss'. This may have been merely an interpretation mistake, though, since they were talking in Elder-tongue, and Talbot guessed his brain merely associated the words he was hearing with those closest to what he understood. For all Talbot knew, the giant might be talking about his wife, but Talbot interpreted the word as 'boss'. He had to tread carefully.
"I didn't open the Syrpeas Gate, Briareus," said Talbot, aware that it wouldn't take much to send the giant into a rage at the moment.
Several mouths spat. A score of fists were clenched. Eyes gazed down at him with such a rage Talbot was sure he was done for, but still he stood his ground. Finally the glowering abated.
"What you mean?" asked several of Briareus's heads.
"It was my brother. He was the one who opened the Syrpeas Gate. He did it because his boss made him." Talbot hoped the word worked both ways.
Briareus nodded, albeit with a look of mistrust upon several faces. "Where your brother now?"
Talbot dropped his eyes for a moment, but then strengthened himself and met Briareus's probing gaze once more. "He's dead."
Briareus seemed to ponder this for a moment. "Him my brother," he said eventually, pointing at the body of Typhoeus. "Not Hecatonchires, but brother. Father same."
Talbot suddenly understood why Briareus had been so angry, and a wealth of sorrow for the Hecatonchires shot through him. This explained the giant's sudden hostility toward Talbot. He'd been forced to kill his own half-brother in order to protect Talbot as his 'boss' had ordered.
"I'm so sorry, Briareus," he said. The words sounded empty.
Briareus turned to look at him quizzically. "Why you sorrow?"
"Because you had to kill your brother," replied Talbot.
Several heads laughed while others spat on the corpse of Typhoeus. "Him me never like. Him me want to kill long time. Me thank you."
So saying, Briareus turned and strode off down the beach, leaving Talbot behind shaking his head for a moment before jogging slightly to catch up.
***
After Talbot's rescue the companionship was less strained between the two. Talbot's confession about it being his brother who had opened the Syrpeas Gate seemed to have assuaged some of Briareus's rage, and he now consented to some conversation.
"So, the gate I came through is completely different to the Syrpeas Gate?" Talbot asked.
"Yes," answered Briareus simply, a single pair of dark brown eyes the size of saucers fixed on Talbot while others scanned the land around them for threats. Talbot had found it extremely frustrating at first when trying to obtain information from the giant. Briareus would only answer the question asked, adding no additional i
nformation.
"So where does the Syrpeas Gate go?"
"Into Tartarus."
"You said my brother had broken the chains of Tartarus. Where exactly is Tartarus?"
"Tartarus is beyond Hades."
"And?" Talbot prompted. "How do we get there? Do we have to travel through Hades?"
"Hades no more safe. Tartarus now start to take over."
Talbot bit back a curse of frustration. It was like trying to get information from a stone. "What does that mean, Briareus?"
Briareus halted mid-stride, all fifty of his heads craning around to peer down at Talbot, a look of intense puzzlement on many of them, as though he had just asked the most obvious thing in the world.
"It mean Titans trying to get out of pit," he said ominously.
The importance of the words crashed into Talbot, and he gazed off into the distance, toward a colossal mountain, dwarfing anything similar on Earth, its peaks shrouded within the green clouds of this world.
He grimaced. Although he'd never been the expert in such things that his brother had, Talbot still understood enough about Greek mythology to know the return of the Titans would be a very bad thing. If Briareus was being literal - and Talbot felt certain he was - then the one group of creatures who had arguably been more powerful than the ancient gods of Greece would soon break loose from their prison -
The pit of Tartarus.
***
"Me carry you," said Briareus, snapping Talbot out of his thoughts.
They'd been travelling for hours, and he was concerned about the timeframe. By his calculations the rift should have already expanded enough to consume all of existence.
Despite his watch being frozen since crossing through the rift, Talbot knew it had been at least six hours, much longer than their original time frame could have possibly allowed. The only thing he could fathom was that time here was somehow different to back home - possibly completely separate. Perhaps being here meant time froze back home and vice versa, though such a thing was likely impossible. He shook the problem away. It wasn't important for the moment. All that mattered was the present, and finding a way to close the rift.
