Beyond Hades (The Prometheus Wars) Page 24

  “I want you to go and find Prometheus,” he said. “Gather your leaders, we need to discuss something.”

  “What are you talking about?” asked Themis, her voice tremulous.

  Talbot’s face was set, his emotions controlled. He held the gaze of the Titan, staring deep into her swirling eyes for several moments before responding.

  “We’re going to war,” he said, his voice full of venom. “We’re going to convince your leaders to go to war against the Olympians.”

  ***

  “What the hell are you playing at?” Wes hissed at Talbot.

  Prometheus had finally been convinced to gather the leaders of the Titans. They were in a simple room with two lounge-type chairs and a low table – low for the Titans, of course. It was shoulder-high for Wes and Talbot, the chairs chest-high, which they had to jump to get into.

  “We need to retake Olympia,” replied Talbot calmly. “People have been playing us from the start. It’s time we take matters into our own hands, and the first step is to put the Titans back in their home world – a land the Olympians forced them from. Then we have to return to Earth and devise a way to get back into Atlantis –”

  “Atlantis is swimming beneath an ocean of fish shit,” interrupted Wes.

  “I know that, and it’s a big issue, but not one for now. Our first course of action is to put these people back in their home. They have a power my brother spoke of, something our own leaders were attempting to get their hands on. It may be they can assist us by using this power, it may not. Regardless, we will do this thing for one simple reason.”

  “And what’s that?” asked Wes.

  “Because it’s the right thing to do,” replied Talbot. “You know that. I saw it in your eyes when Prometheus told us his story. Beneath your cocky arrogance beats the heart of a man who strives to do what he perceives is right. I need your help on this, Wes. Not simply because it might aid us in the long run – indeed it may not – but because these people need our help. Do I have to remind you that Prometheus saved our lives out there?”

  “Hmm. Good point,” said Wes. “Okay, let’s say I agree to help these buggers, what do you suggest we do? I’ve got a sword. You’ve got nothing except your sparkling wit and a newfound sense of bravery – which I like, by the way. But it won’t conquer a race of people smart enough to open doorways between dimensions.”

  “My brother told me these people aren’t fighters, that they lack the aggression required to win a conflict.”

  “Well, that makes a great argument for not pushing them into a war,” argued Wes.

  “Don’t you see? They’re going to die. Maybe not this generation or the next, but pretty soon they’re going to start mutating into things like those things that have been attacking us. They’re terrified, and I don’t blame them. Can you imagine knowing something like that was going to happen to your family?”

  Wes looked away, an unreadable expression upon his face. “What do you suggest?” he asked, no trace of sarcasm in his voice.

  “There must be some way to motivate them into trying to retake their own planet. Surely there’s something we can offer by way of advice which will help push them toward the right course of action.”

  Wes thought about it for a moment. “You give them one of your little speeches like that one, and I reckon you’ll convince them. They might be a bunch of sissies, but they also want to go home. Remind them of that, and you’ll persuade them to fight.”

  Talbot was unsure of Wes’s reaction, but had to take him at his word. The two waited, resting until Prometheus returned to them.

  “It took some convincing,” said Prometheus, his stoic demeanor and unblinking, smoky-black eyes not betraying the excitement his voice conveyed, “but they have agreed to meet in council. The fact that there was an abnormal birthing today has possibly swayed them as well.”

  “Abnormal birthing?” asked Talbot.

  “Yes, the first of its kind. A child chewed its way clear of its mother, killing her in the process.” The words were delivered blankly, but Talbot caught the horror floating within them. Wes swore softly beside him.

  They followed Prometheus through a myriad of corridors until they once more arrived at the central entrance hall. All three descended the stairs to the ground floor, and Prometheus led them to one of the corner doors, closest to the front of the building. They passed through it and Talbot almost froze.

  Packed into the huge room were several hundred Titans, some with children or even babies. Every Titan had smoky, swirling eyes similar to Prometheus, but in varying colors, and all those blank, lidless gazes were turned toward Talbot as he entered the hall, seeming to peer deep into his soul.

  He looked straight ahead and saw six male Titans, arranged behind a long table upon a high dais at the front of the room facing the crowd. It took Talbot a moment to realize how much like a courtroom this looked, the six Titans arrayed like judges. His nerve threatened to fail, and Talbot felt the tremors of uncertainty begin in his knees.

  Now was not the time for rethinking his strategy, however, and Talbot swallowed his fear, striding confidently to the front of the room and facing the six elders.

  Prometheus stopped beside Talbot on his left, Wes slightly behind him on the right. “The one in the center is Lord Kronos, leader of our people,” whispered Prometheus.

  Kronos was a middle-aged, powerful-looking Titan, his eyes like storm clouds. His salt and pepper beard flowed down over his chest, but his hair was cropped above his ears and curly like Prometheus’s. This man bore the mantle of leadership like a beacon, and Talbot swiftly decided to address him alone.

  “Lord Kronos,” he said loudly enough for the entire hall to hear. “I have come from a land called Earth, like my brother Thomas, who recently died in this very house. We –” he indicated Wes, “– are here on a mission to close the rift gates my people inadvertently opened while trying to come to this world to steal some elusive power from your people.”

  A great murmuring sounded throughout the room, only silenced when Kronos held up his hand. The mutterings quickly dispelled.

  “My companion and I didn’t come here for that power,” continued Talbot quickly. “We only want to close the gates which others opened in ignorance. If we don’t close them, there is a great likelihood that all our dimensions will merge into one and everything we know will be destroyed.”

  Talbot paused in his speech, considering his next words carefully. “And we need your help. What would you give to have your home world, Gaia, returned to you?”

  Talbot turned to look around the room at the citizens of this foreign city, torn from their home world and thrown into this hellish realm against their will. He thought he saw the spark of hope in some faces as the importance of his words began to sink in, but many were equally struck with fear. These were a people who didn’t trust easily, and despite their size, they were not aggressive. These Titans exuded nothing of the warlike tendencies Talbot recalled from the random tales of Greek mythology Thomas had told him when they were younger, or the snippets he’d acquired from his work as an archaeologist.

  From what Talbot recalled, the Titans had ruled before the Greek gods had come into existence. There were six elder gods – possibly the same six seated before him; he was sure Kronos was among those named – as well as some others who had gone to war against Zeus and the Greek gods. In fact, as he thought about it, Talbot seemed to remember something about Zeus being Kronos’s son, but pushed the thought aside for the moment.

  All the things which were now taught as myths had emerged from these creatures along with the others they had already encountered. Surely the stories were twisted and expanded upon retelling over the centuries, but they were based upon fact. He could imagine the Olympic gods warping the truth about the Titans in order to make their own role seem less horrific upon retelling.

  But on reflection, Talbot was troubled. He could accept that these creatures had been displaced from their home, but Zeus had n
ot seemed the kind of man to send these people to their doom. And Heracles had sacrificed himself in order for them to continue in their quest. The Olympian had died in the most horrific manner Talbot could imagine in order for them to have some sort of success in their mission.

  Could it all have simply been a ruse just to get him and Wes to leave Olympia? And what about the rifts? Doubt began to creep into the corners of Talbot’s mind like mildew in an attic.

  All he had to go on was what his brother had told him. He had to help these people return to their home world. After that, well.... Talbot really had no plan for after that.

  He steeled himself. “You need to go to war against the Olympians,” he said, turning back to Kronos. The panel of six Titans seemed to recoil slightly in shock.

  “We cannot go to war against the Olympians!” said Kronos. “They decimated our people during the last encounter when they forced us from Gaia. They have sealed us here. We cannot open the rift gate from this side. Our people have tried to decipher the Elder-tongue, but it is pointless. It is most galling, especially since they created a portal right here in the city!”

  “If I were able to open the rift, could you raise an army?” asked Talbot.

  Kronos leaned forward, his lidless, cloudy eyes staring at Talbot. “My people are not warriors, we are peace-loving. We lack the knowledge of warfare, though we yearn for the lands we were born in, and we cannot stand the fact that our children will eventually become monsters.” The king of the Titans glanced at the others sitting with him, who all nodded slightly. He gazed out at the hundreds of faces of his people, unemotional, but also seeming to yearn for what Talbot had offered them –

  Hope.

  Looking beyond Talbot, Kronos spoke directly to Prometheus. “Prepare our warriors; our birthright and lawful sovereignty shall be ours once more.”

  The Titan grinned slightly. “Yes, my lord,” he said.

  Talbot paused in his thoughts. Some aspect of that grin struck him as odd. There was a trace of something in the way Prometheus’s mouth curled that made Talbot feel he’d just made a huge mistake. The tone in Prometheus’ voice also struck a chord deep within the archaeologist: another feeling, like when he’d remembered the actions of Heracles and the mannerisms of Zeus, that something wasn’t right in this place. Talbot glanced at Wes and noticed the commando’s brow was slightly furrowed. The commando appeared to be having similar feelings of disquiet to his own. He motioned to Wes, and they moved to the side of the room, Kronos talking to the Titans at the long table, and the citizens of the city slowly disbanding.

  “Something doesn’t add up here,” whispered Talbot.

  “I hear ya,” replied Wes. “Not sure what’s going on, but it sure ain’t kosher. But what can we do?”

  “I have no idea,” muttered Talbot. “I think I really screwed the pooch on this one. But my brother said –”

  “Are you sure it was your brother?” asked Wes suddenly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Remember that story you told me about what happened onboard the aircraft carrier?”

  “Oh shit,” replied Talbot, remembering the creature which had appeared to be Lieutenant General Walsh. Its eyes had been –

  Oh shit, thought Talbot. The thing that had taken over Lieutenant General Walsh had lidless eyes.

  Lidless eyes filled with black, swirling orbs of smoke.

  Exactly the same as Prometheus’s eyes....

  The bullet had hit the lieutenant general directly in the head. Only something incredibly tough could have survived such an impact. Either that or it would have needed regenerating abilities.

  Talbot remembered the mechanical eagle, sinking its talons deep into the flesh of Prometheus’s arm; he recalled the way that flesh had healed instantly, without even a drop of blood. That combined with the memory of the eyes....

  “Jesus Christ,” whispered Talbot to Wes. “These things aren’t innocent. I’ve been an idiot!”

  “What do you know?” asked Wes, his hand on the hilt of Chiron’s sword, his narrowed eyes darting surreptitiously around the room.

  “These things have been involved in the whole thing,” replied Talbot, his tone hushed. “Tell me, when you cut into Hades’s arm, did it bleed?”

  Wes looked thoughtful for a moment, biting his bottom lip slightly. He looked up. “There was a lot going on at the time, but as far as I can recall, no, it didn’t.”

  “Damn,” whispered Talbot. “We’ve been fooled since the beginning. I’d bet my right arm some of these guys are able to change their shape at will and regenerate like Prometheus. There’s no telling how much of this whole saga was manipulated by them.”

  “But what’s the point?” asked Wes. “Why go through all this trouble?”

  Talbot thought about it for a moment, trying hard to keep his expression neutral, glancing over at Kronos and the other five Titans at the high table. Then it came to him like bolt of lightning in a field full of brass keys.

  What had they gotten out of all of this? They’d brought him here. The only one who could open the gate back into Olympia; the only person alive who could read the script of the Elder-tongue.

  The scope of the situation began to bear down on Talbot like an anvil. How long had the Titans been planning this? Had they planted someone in with the team Thomas had signed on with? Talbot dismissed the idea immediately, but perhaps there was some truth in what his brother’s doppelganger had disclosed. Maybe they had somehow given people the idea that some great imaginary power was hidden in Tartarus. If the American government had thought that, they would certainly have sought out the one person capable of reading the language....

  And now he was here, offering to open up the gate into Olympia for the race of beings who almost destroyed the Greek gods.

  “We have to get away from here,” said Talbot.

  “Follow me,” replied Wes.

  The two cautiously made their way around the outside wall of the room, heading for the only exit out of the place. By luck or paranoia, Wes had brought his pack full of supplies and still wore the scabbard containing Chiron’s sword, so they didn’t need to backtrack.

  But they had no idea where to go, either. The building was like a maze, and the two of them had seen very little of it. They managed to get out into the main hall without anyone noticing, but once there Wes paused.

  Talbot looked around, and any doubts he’d had about his theory were dashed in an instant as he looked at the stairs in the middle of the huge room. They were designed for Titanic-sized figures – not human-sized, not even Olympian-sized. This building, indeed the entire city, had been established for many decades at the very least. Prometheus had said they had only been expelled from Olympia – or Gaia, as he had called it – a matter of years ago.

  The Titans were lying, of that Talbot had no doubt. Not now.

  “Where do we go?” asked Wes. “Do we look for the rift or just get out of the city?”

  “We have to get some breathing room for now,” replied Talbot. “Let’s head for the main gates.”

  Talbot followed Wes, and they managed to slip out the front door of the main building. Moving through the streets furtively, they hid behind cover at any indication of movement.

  It became clear as they moved how deeply they had been fooled. As Wes and Talbot hid within a darkened alleyway, Titans moved from homes wearing full armor and weapons similar to those of the Olympians, power crackling along spears and swords alike.

  The Titans were at least twice the size of the Olympians, there were hundreds of them, and they wore armor which covered them almost completely, high collar-guards and full-faced helms protecting their heads and necks. Talbot doubted many of the Olympians would be able to reach that high anyway. Heracles would have been able to match these warriors for strength, but even he would have struggled to match their height and would have been disadvantaged for reach. And Heracles had been the greatest warrior from among the Olympians. With him gone, what chance w
ould they have?

  But then Talbot remembered Briareus, the giant with one hundred arms and fifty heads, he could probably decapitate a few of these Titans. And he apparently had two brothers as well. Maybe they would stand a chance, but not if they were attacked by surprise.

  Titans came from everywhere, pouring from buildings into formerly deserted streets. For a nation which had proclaimed to be peaceful, they seemed remarkably prepared for war. Talbot shook his head in amazement; they must have been planning this for years.

  “We have to warn Zeus,” said Talbot, his voice hushed.

  Wes seemed ready to argue, but suddenly a bell started to ring, sounding a warning, or....

  “They’ve realized we’re gone,” hissed Wes. “Let’s move!”

  They shot down an alleyway running parallel to the main street, heading for the outer gates to the city. Talbot had no idea what they would do once they got outside the city, but for the moment they were sitting in the middle of a nest of vipers and had to get out.

  The gates loomed before them, and Talbot felt a moment of hope; they were going to make it! The alarm bell was still clanging throughout the walled city, but all Talbot had eyes on was the gate. They started running toward it, all pretense of skulking gone. And then something stepped into their path that made them screech to a stop.

  A tiny puppy.

  A tiny puppy with three heads and a tail like a serpent.

  Cerberus snarled, but Wes grabbed Talbot’s arm, urging him on. They moved closer and suddenly the tiny dog emitted an ominous howl, something too large to have come from such a small creature. Its shoulders bunched, becoming intensely lumpy and exploding outwards with an incredible growth of muscle and bone. The three heads stretched and inflated like demonic balloons, bared teeth soon growling down at them from a height some twenty feet above. The beast’s forelegs thickened with gnarled muscle, the glossy hair of the dog’s coat receding until only a spiky black pelt remained.

  Cerberus had grown to twice the size of an Indian bull elephant, his three heads snarling and foaming, the serpent tail whipping from behind. Two burning coals had replaced the innocent puppy eyes, and now it truly looked like the beast from hell Talbot had always imagined. The slapping of sandaled feet from far off in the city indicated that the Titans had heard the howl and would soon arrive at the scene.