Strange Cosmology

by Alex Raizman

  He chose to respect her privacy and looked away, his eyes falling instead upon an empty cart under a sign painted with faded Greek letters. Whoever had abandoned the cart had taken the contents. Maybe it was an orderly evacuation, Ryan thought. Although if it was...why leave the cart at all?

  More questions with no answers.

  Ryan was just getting ready to break the silence when someone else did. “Depressing, isn’t it?”

  Ryan spun towards the voice, to see a tall, bearded man emerging from a darkened doorway. The tall, two-pronged weapon he carried stirred something in Ryan’s memory, but he couldn’t quite place it. Ryan’s heart started to pound, and he began to reach for the threads of reality to prepare an attack, but the newcomer simply looked them over and then swept into a mocking bow.

  “Athena,” he said, “it has been far too long, and...Crystal, it has not been long enough. And this must be Ryan the Eschaton. I must admit that I had expected someone grander.”

  “Hades,” Crystal said flatly. “Since you’re here, I assume the war in Heaven is concluded?”

  “It is,” Hades said smugly. “Arthur stands victorious, and the gods of death are free again.”

  “You have never cared about freedom, and never liked leaving your domain,” Athena said. “Why are you here, instead of back in your kingdom?”

  Hades gave her a thin smile. “It has been ages since I have had word from Olympus. Although I dislike this place and its politics, I do have some care for my brothers and sisters. As I had no need to come as a supplicant, it was no trouble to come and investigate.”

  “Any idea what happened here?” Athena demanded.

  “Come.” Hades motioned for them to follow him into one of the nearby buildings, a long, flat structure with massive pillars. The building was mostly intact, and the walls inside bore murals that reminded Ryan of the art he’d seen on Greek pottery: black and white, with a highly stylized appearance. They covered the walls from end to end, a dizzying array of stories depicted entirely in the artwork. Hades stopped in the center of the main room, next to a basin holding water gone green with stagnation. “I’ve found no trace of the others. I plan to ask the sisters if they know what has happened to our kin.”

  Athena’s eyes moved away from the wall to meet Hades’ gaze. “You know where to find the Fates? I couldn’t find them after I was cast out.”

  “They reside in my realm. All the deities with the gift for prophecy got locked away with us. I guess Yahweh did not want the competition.” He smiled without humor and reached into the pool of stagnant water. The algae covering it began to turn black, rotting away as he put a small amount of power into it. “I don’t suppose you have any insight into what happened here, stern Athena?” It was an odd phrase but seemed to mean something to Athena, who blushed slightly.

  “I wish I did. Have you maybe found a clue - anything - that tells what happened?” Ryan noted the touch of desperation in her voice.

  Hades nodded. The black rot covering the pool was starting to melt away, slowly being replaced by bright blue. “Yes. Well, in a sense. I’ve found a complete lack of clues, which is a clue in and of itself.”

  “Oh, spare us the riddles, love,” Crystal snapped, and Ryan wondered again about her irritation. I’m being irrational, Ryan thought to himself. Hades was getting on his nerves too, and the way Athena’s face fell further with every word did nothing to alleviate that. Crystal just had less patience for it, clearly.

  Hades stiffened as he looked at Crystal. “Fine. I’ve found no evidence of battle. I’ve found no destruction that couldn’t be attributed to neglect. Whatever happened here, I believe our fellow Olympians left under their own power. I believe they could still be alive.” He pulled his hand out of the water, which was now crystal clear.

  Athena sagged slightly, her relief plain on her face. Crystal ground her teeth but kept her tone level. “Well, that’s good news at least. Thank you for that.”

  Hades studied her a moment. “Yet you dislike it?”

  “Too bloody right.” Ryan motioned for her to stop, but Crystal plowed ahead. “Hades, we’ve got a situation here, yeah? I know you underworld gods are a bit tied up with your new freedom and all that, but if we fail the sun will literally explode.”

  Hades’s eyebrows rose half an inch. “That’s quite the claim. I suppose you have some proof to back it up?”

  “I lived the last time it almost happened,” Crystal said, her voice cracking like a whip. “I bloody damn well prevented it. You’re a god of an underworld, Hades. Surely you know that humanity was not the first sentient race to walk this world.”

  “I do,” Hades conceded. “Yet I hardly find that compelling proof we are in imminent danger of losing the sun.”

  Crystal looked ready to pull her hair out, and Ryan stepped in before she slapped the smug off Hades’s face. “Hades, please, listen. Even if you don’t believe us, we were desperate enough to go to Arthur for allies. We need help. Bast and Moloch are still out there, doing God knows what, and Earth’s slipping into chaos. Help us find them.”

  Ryan had to admit to himself that it was nice to see Hades look thoughtful, nice to see anything from him besides smug dismissal. “Explode,” Hades mused. “The sun is going to explode. Well, if you truly believe that, it certainly explains why you all are so driven.”

  Crystal nodded, her hands balling into fists at her side, “So if you have any insight as to where we might find the Olympians, or any other god, now would be a bloody good time to share it.”

  Hades thought for a long moment, and then looked at Athena. “Tartarus.”

  That one word made Athena gasp. “You think?”

  As Hades made a gesture of affirmation, Ryan interrupted. “Care to explain to the Nascent guy?”

  Athena and Hades both turned towards him. “Tartarus is a different underworld realm,” Hades explained patiently. He walked over to one of the murals on the wall, depicting a vast pit with grasping tentacles and immense hands reaching out of it. Around the pit, divine figures, men and women alike, towered over smaller figures that Ryan took for ordinary mortals. “It never had a god. It was where we imprisoned the Titans eons ago, in the most secure prison we could devise.” Hades’s arm moved, drawing Ryan’s gaze away from the pit to what was painted around it.

  It was a maze, one so vast it dominated the entire wall. Ryan noticed one particular figure - a massive man with a bull’s head instead of a human one - before turning back to Hades. “And you think the Olympians are locked up there? But if there was no fight, how were they trapped?”

  “No, Ryan.” Athena took over for Hades, and now her eyes were blazing with desperate hope. “In times of crisis, it’s easy to convert a prison into a fortress. They must have gone there to defend themselves!”

  “From what?” Ryan asked.

  Hades and Athena shared a look, and Hades shrugged. “I’m not certain. Although…”

  “Another pantheon,” Athena said. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. The Aesir or the Deva, most likely - I don’t know any others that would have the numbers to drive our kin from this mountain.”

  “Perhaps,” Hades conceded. “Although they might have gone because of something from within. If the locks on the Titan’s prison had started to come loose, Zeus would take everyone there to try and reinforce the barrier.”

  “I’m sorry,” Crystal interjected. “Are you saying it’s possible the bloody titans are loose?”

  “No,” Athena said, and Hades nodded in agreement. “If they were free, they would be back on Earth by now. If Hades is right, then the Olympians are staying to make sure the barrier stays shut. If I’m right, it’s because they still fear the threat that drove them to Tartarus in the first place.”

  It made sense to Ryan, although he didn’t want to be the one to point out to Athena that neither scenario meant the Olympians were still safe. “Okay, we’ll go there next.”

  Crystal grumbled. “Please tell me we can just ta
ke a bloody staging area directly there?”

  “It wouldn’t be much of a prison if you could, now would it?” Hades asked. Since the question was clearly rhetorical, he barely paused before continuing, “You have a bit of a trip ahead of you, I’m afraid.”

  “I know the way,” Athena’s voice was calm and full of purpose.

  “Wonderful,” Hades responded. “In that case, I take my leave. Best of luck.” He turned, waving his hand. A hole opened in front of him - not a doorway, but a proper portal. Before stepping through it, he looked over his shoulder, “I would consider that perhaps not all of you are needed to investigate Tartarus. Given how pressing you believe other concerns to be, perhaps it would be best if some of you sought allies elsewhere.”

  “Wait!” Ryan said, drawing startled looks from the others. “We still need help. If you’re not busy…”

  Hades shook his head. “I have my own concerns, and I’m not going to throw them aside for some mad quest.”

  “It’s not mad,” Athena said, her eyes narrowing. “The entire world is at stake.”

  “Athena,” Hades said with a sigh. “I thought you, of all people, would know better than to fall for Ishtar’s nonsense. The world isn’t going to end. You two,” he indicated Ryan with a nod of his head, “are going to run around, following this madwoman, until you figure this out. Or are killed, permanently. I’m not interested in that.”

  Crystal snarled, “You just bloody said we should seek allies elsewhere because things are pressing. What’d you mean by that, if not the end of the world?”

  Hades’s eyes widened. “Ishtar. You and Enki broke the veil of secrecy surrounding divinity on national television. Arthur just secured victory for Hell and is going to be making mortals more aware of the reality of beings like us. As Ryan so keenly pointed out, Moloch is running free, and that monster needs to be put down. I have no quarrel with Bast, but she is your adversary, and the battle will likely be destructive. Others are moving openly. The world is changing, and for all your madness, I do like you. Your hearts are in the right place, although you are painfully misguided. I think the sooner you prove to yourselves that the world isn’t going to end, the sooner you can start cleaning up your own mess - and then turn your talents to actually doing some good for the world.”

  None of them had an answer to that. Hades gave them a tight smile. “When you do realize that you’re chasing shadows, come see me, and we can talk about the future. Or, I suppose, come to me if you get some actual proof this isn’t madness.”

  Without waiting for a response, Hades stepped through the portal and into his realm.

  Crystal broke the silence. “Much as I bloody hate to say it, he had one good point. We’re lacking in allies, and we can’t be sure we’ll find the Olympian in Tartarus. Athena, love, how long is this trip?”

  Athena bit her lip. “A week. Maybe more, depending on the obstacles we face. But if one of us attempts to go alone, it will prove much more dangerous.”

  “We’re strapped for time,” Crystal said, “If all three of us go off on a quest to Tartarus, and it turns out the Olympians aren’t there, then we just wasted a sodding week we don’t have.”

  “It’s also the only lead we do have!” Athena retorted, her tone sharpening to match Crystal’s. “The Curators will not give locations, and my kin remain our best hope.”

  “No, they aren’t! We wasted an entire climb up the mountain, and now you want to go on another quest with no guarantee we’ll find them.” Crystal was squaring up now, her jaw set in frustration. “You just want to make sure they’re okay and don’t seem to understand that if we waste too much time, they’ll die with everyone else!”

  “Uh,” Ryan said, knowing he had to speak before things got uglier, but having nothing more to add beyond that single syllable.

  Fortunately, Athena hadn’t earned the title “goddess of wisdom” for getting sucked into arguments, and Ryan’s sound managed to stop Crystal from saying anything worse. Athena held up a placating hand. “Two days. We take two days to try to find other allies. After that, if we haven’t found any, we try Tartarus. And if we have found help, then we can split up since it won’t just be the three of us.”

  Crystal closed her eyes for a moment, and Ryan could have sworn she was counting backward. “Agreed. And that last comment was out of line, love. Sorry.”

  “Apology accepted, Crystal, but you were not entirely incorrect. I do want to make sure they are well, but I have not forgotten the importance of what we do.” She offered Crystal a hand, and Crystal took it, relaxing slightly.

  “Great,” Ryan said. “So...where do we look for those two days?”

  They both turned to him, and Crystal smiled. “I actually think I have a pretty good idea there. Tell you on the way, yeah?”

  As soon as they agreed, she took out her nanoverse and opened a door, smiling as she held it open for them. Ryan caught a glimpse of Crystal’s nanoverse, resting between her fingers and looking like just a typical black marble. When he did, for an instant, he felt the same revulsion he had for the cancerous mass that Enki’s nanoverse had become. It was gone just as quickly, so he put it down to the stress of the looming end of the world and worrying about his friend’s increasingly erratic behavior. Later, he would wish he’d paid more attention.

  Chapter 3

  Tangled Webs

  Project Myrmidon’s command center was buzzing with activity when Admiral Dale Bridges strode in. Computers hummed quietly and fingers tapped on keyboards, a constant undercurrent to the endless streams of conversation. Most of the attention was focused on the map spread across the back wall, covered with red, yellow, and blue dots.

  “Can you confirm that?” someone was saying into a microphone. “Video, photograph...Yes? Excellent. And you think it’s a chupacabra because...no, I understand. The video shows it actively sucking the goat’s blood? Okay, I’ll add it. Let us know if you see anything.” The speaker typed for a moment, and a new yellow dot appeared in Phoenix.

  Yellow, meaning there was a confirmed incident that did not require immediate attention. Something to watch.

  The blue dots seemed to appear almost randomly, but there was a purpose to their madness. They were handled by a computer algorithm, scanning traditional and social media. Hashtags, photos, posts, and news reports that suggested relevant incidents were all on display. Dale tried to ignore the blue dots. Someone far below his pay grade would follow up and determine if they should be dismissed, or upgraded to yellow...or red, which signified confirmed incidents of note.

  Despite his best efforts, Dale’s eyes were drawn to the blue unknowns. Too many...far too many. If half those blue dots turned red, they would be overrun. With a determined effort, he turned his attention to the red dots: Ohio, Ghana, Sydney, Venezuela, and South Korea.

  Ghana and Venezuela were of particular interest because those were the two spots where beings claiming to be gods were active. One was of a known entity; there had been confirmed sightings of Moloch in Venezuela. At least one of these beings doesn’t pretend to be anything other than a demon, Dale thought grimly. He knew that, according to his mythology experts, Moloch was a member of the Canaanite pantheon who had been “turned into” a demon by later Christian writers. As far as Dale was concerned, he had always been a demon, just like all these other blasphemous entities. The one in Ghana was claiming to be Anansi, a fairly significant figure in the local mythology. He was regarded as a trickster, which to Dale sounded much like a deceiver.

  Dale popped his knuckles in frustration, a habit he’d picked up during the first Gulf War and had never shaken. These beings were showing their true colors. Enki had claimed, when he first appeared on camera, that these “gods” had no desire to be worshipped. Ryan and Crystal had claimed the same thing. Yet here were two confirmed sightings, and what were they doing? Gathering followers. Sure, they might not be calling them worshippers, but at the end of the day, was there any difference between following a false god and wor
shipping it? You might not be actually saying prayers, but if you were taking advice from one, you might as well be praying to it.

  It galled Dale that so many people were falling for the bullshit. Galled, but didn’t surprise them. Humans, as individuals, were capable of great things. Humans in groups were only as great as those that led them, and they gravitated to whoever held the most authority. If someone claimed to be a god and could be convincing to the ignorant, people would follow, and people would draw lines and pick sides.

  From where Dale was sitting, Moloch and Anansi were cut from the same cloth as Enki and Ryan. Both were building a religion, although Anansi was being smarter about it, more subtle, by not advertising his intentions. However, he’d plunged Ghana, one of the most stable nations in that part of Africa, into a civil war, and he’d done so with an army of spider monsters. Moloch, meanwhile, was openly seeking followers, and the monsters that he commanded were far more varied. They boiled down to the exact same thing: problems that Dale had to put down.

  The blue dots were multiplying again, and Dale popped his knuckles harder. If he had access to the entire United States military apparatus, every satellite in orbit, and every single intelligence agent employed in the Western hemisphere, he’d still need a full year to confirm or eliminate just a single day’s worth of reports. Those numbers weren’t hyperbole; an analyst had told him exactly that. It was an impossibly large task, and there was no doctrine, no rules of engagement, for these kinds of threats. They were writing new rules as situations developed, protocols that had no precedent. Half of them had to be rewritten after they were tested and proved to be insufficient or outright failures. It was an organizational disaster.

  In that, more than anything else, the nerds were earning their keep. They’d spent their entire lives thinking about how to fight threats that the military hadn’t wasted time considering. Lazzario and Jake had worked with military analysts to create standard rules of engagement for unknown threats, and when they weren’t working on project Myrmidon, they were going through a list of mythological creatures and their attributes, trying to come up with tentative plans to handle them. It was all based on speculation and best guesses, but it was a damn sight better than going in blind.