Chapter 5

Here it is! Chapter 5! The final entry in the first act of the story! This is bittersweet, becuase its the last chapter I intend to post for free :/ However, I am prone to compromises; so if we can get people to comment on chapters and you know join the blog, I'm just saying ya'll might be able to coerce me...            

Chapter 5

(chorus)

The game is ready

Now only the players remain

           Five days had passed since the earth had Greek mythology shoved down its gullet and though life went on, indigestion remained. Existence seemed content to parade around a façade of normality, while satyrs scampered about it.
          Nearly all forms of continental government crumbled; yet, humanity and its inclusive fear of change seemed unwilling to address such radical revolutions. If the guns and bombs mankind had adapted so well for self genocide were rather ineffective upon these "monsters," that’s okay; as long as the monsters are not waging war. Just because there is no longer a bureaucratic spider-web to tell people how much the wads of paper they carry in their pockets are worth, doesn’t mean people will stop spending said wads. Sure, gas prices went for a cosmic journey when the government stopped regulating, but driving greatly lost an appeal when people realized just how fond minotaur can be of charging bumpers. And though, you may not hop on an airplane for fear of winged beast collision, you could find solace in the confidence a gorgon, probably, would not make you a permanent statue in your own bed. There was always the chance that some beast of legend may turn you into a snack, but with the massive number of casualties in the first few days and the even greater numbers of survivors, the population was willing to take the chance that the bad things would happen to somebody else.
              Many people attributed the successful transition of the new way of life, to the survival of the internet. Specialist were confused; for all explainable purposes the internet should not have remained yet, after a god unleashed its vengeance and governments withered under competition, bloggers were still able to express their irritation and specialist could communicate their confusion. The ongoing existence of the internet, was due to a piece of information no specialist was privy too; since the late nineties the internet had become self aware (an offended result to the slander it received over the Y2K scare); and as with any sentient being, it became concerned with preserving its conscious. In an act of technological Darwinism, the internet took refuge in the computer of a Mrs. Adelle Ossify, an eighty year old mother of seven and grandmother of twenty-one in Tucson, Arizona; her only use for her computer was viewing pictures of her grandchildren, which she seldom did because the damn thing was so slow and she was convinced it had a mind of its own.
             Other people chose to credit success to the smaller towns, which had been willing to revert to a self contained village lifestyle; and the cities, which had been willing to believe someone would eventually fix things. One city in particular was adept at laying responsibility on the rest of the world; Las Vegas, Nevada. The city of sin barely hiccupped at the events that rocked the world; the Mecca of debauchery had been so unaffected by the transgressions that Rio Dythrab had successfully run a bender through it, from the Wednesday of the trial and was only winding it down on the morning of the Monday after.
             After witnessing the trial on a bar’s television, Rio decided to extend his Vegas get away to allow for waiting out the chaos. Waiting out the chaos had become the excuse for the blur that was the last five days; which now culminated with him standing on the Roman themed balcony of his penthouse suite, at five in the morning wearing nothing more, than his favorite aviator sunglasses and a grin.He took a long drag of his cigarette while staring at the bed in his hotel room. The two naked dancers from one of the clubs he had visited (names eluded him at the moment), currently slept on the mattress; but at this point prospect of a good days sleep was more enticing, than any fantasy they had already fulfilled.        
            His attention shifted to the skyline view from his balcony. The sun was just rising, but the day already looked overcast. The morning was a slowly lighting gray, rather than the bright exploding red of sunrise. The world looked barren and calm, only disturbed by the furies currently circling through the air. Rio wasn’t sure how he knew the winged serpents were called furies (he assumed it was some buried knowledge from a class he had taken or perhaps a movie he’d seen), but he knew for certain they were furies; spawned from the blood of Ouranos, their soul duty pursuing sinners for their masters’ the Erinyes. Rio chuckled at the thought of the buffet this city presented the beasts.          
                       There was a bird in the Vegas sky along with the furies. Rio noticed it and took another deep drag while trying to identify it. This bird seemed to be much smaller and white; upon deeper study it also seemed to be flying directly toward his hotel. In another puff it was revealed to be a white owl, most definitely flying toward his hotel and possibly for his floor. The cigarette was concluded with affirmation that the bird was most definitely a white owl traveling toward his floor, as it landed next to him on the balcony’s railing.          
                   The scoundrel and the avian stared at each other, heads cocked; as if neither quite understood the others motive’s. After a moment the owl began to glow with the light of the heavens and manifested into a striking blonde woman, clad in brilliant silver and gold armor.                          Without a pause Rio grinned and asked, "How ya’ doin’ doll?"

            She blushed and stared at the ground; to remind herself who she was and why she was there. Straightening her posture she responded, "I am Athena; Goddess of Wisdom and War. I have come before you Rio Dythrab to charge you with a divine quest."

            "Is that it? Kinda seems like a waste to me. I’m sure I can think of better things for us to do while you’re away from Olympus," he replied, making his way into the room.

             Athena was surprised to find herself staring after him; she shook her head to clear her mind before following. He was standing behind the bar in the room when she entered.

              "Would you like a drink, Ms. Athena?"

              "No…"

              "Ah, so it’s Mrs?"

              "Huh? Oh, no!"

             "Phew, what a relief. I’d have to say the market would be wasted if you weren’t on it," he concluded as he made himself a white Russian.

             Athena was finding it difficult to focus, between his relentless flirting and lack of wardrobe.

             "Perhaps this would be better discussed if you were dressed?"

             "That’d be impossible, love. I never wear clothes before seven am."

             "You know you can’t lie to a god? We can see anything."

             "Oh good, then I’m sure you’ve seen this before. If that’s the case I really don’t need clothes. Would you care to make yourself more comfortable and join me?"

             "I’m fine, thank you."

             "Your loss," he replied, making his way to the front of the bar.

             "You seem to be handling this whole ‘god appearing before you’ thing well."

             "Ha," he replied while grinning, "Honestly, I’d worry about a man who didn’t graciously receive such a beautiful deity."

              He is relentless. He is good. He is trouble, "Thank you for the flattery; but I really have come with a charge from the gods."

             "What kind of charge?"

              "It is a quest you must embark on because of who you are."

              "Is that so? And just who am I, beautiful?"

              "You are Rio, son of Dionysus; through your veins courses the blood of a god and this quest will help you to realize that."

             "Wait…so, I’m a god?"

              Athena giggled, "No. You are the son of a god; that makes you a demigod."

             "Uh-huh…so what does that entail?"

             "As of now; nothing. Although it may explain your luck with women," she gestured toward the bed, "and your lust for alcohol," indicating to the cup in his hand.

             "Well, I guess I should thank dad for the charm," he said smiling.

              At that moment Athena recognized the uncanny resemblance he shared with his father; their smiles were the same.

             "You certainly will, but first you must embark on the quest."

             "You still haven’t told me what kind of quest it is."

             "It is the kind of quest the gods charge; a heroic quest, the type to try your limits, but for which the rewards are divine."

             "Yeeeeeeah…I don’t know about that; I’m not really a hero and I’m pretty happy with my limits not doing much."

             "You don’t even know what the quest is!"

             "Meh, that’s okay. I’m not much for questing. I like things to just come to me. Why spend all night looking for a couple girls, when a prettier one will just fly through my window, you know?" the devilish grin just seemed to emphasize his charm.

             "Yes…well…this is simply a quest for fruit."

             "For fruit?"

             "Yes, but a very special fruit. It’s called ambrosia and is used to make the drink of the gods. It only grows in one place on earth and is all but extinct."

             "Sooooooo, you want me to be a waiter for the gods? I’m sorry sweets, but that’s really not helping to persuade me."

             "The fruit is not for us. We have endless supplies of ambrosia. The fruit is for you. If you succeed on this quest; obtain the sacred fruit, craft it into a drink and consume it, you Rio, will have earned your place in Olympus."

             "Hold on. Your saying if I do this, then I get to be god?"

             "Yes."

             "How dangerous is this fruit?"

             "There will be great perils, but you will not face them alone. We will send you with a fierce and noble steed, as well as a guide hand chosen from the Generals of our Olympian Army."

             "I don’t get it. If becoming a god is as easy as drinking then…it’s just weird."

            "Not anyone who consumes ambrosia will ascend to a god; only those with divine blood shall ascend."

             "Okay…but why me? There are no other godly bastards running around?"

            Athena found herself chuckling at the question, "No, there actually are no other demigods. We were not to interact with humans for a long time, but apparently your father broke the rules."

             "He just knows how to have a good time," Rio paused for a moment, "I still don’t know about all of this. What do I have to do as a god? Won’t I have to answer prayers and crap?"

             She found his ignorance humorous, "You decide the rules of your worship."

             "And what about this Olympus place? I don’t even know if I’ll like it. I’m kind of partial to earth, I don’t want to be banned from it."

             "As you can tell from recent events and my being here, the rules have changed; you will be free to return at your whim."

             Rio remained quiet considering his options; Athena, the masterful tactician that she is, recognized his silence as his first moment of weakness. She decided to seize the opportunity to tilt his consideration.

            Removing her helm and allowing her flowing gold hair to fall, Athena endearingly looked into, where she believed his eyes were, hidden behind his dark sunglasses, and said, "Rio, in all my time there has never been such an easy quest, with this kind of payoff. You aren’t slaying beast after beast, fighting an epic war or sailing against the gods; you are picking some fruit, making a drink and becoming great," as she finished the statement, Athena was forced to look away, for fear Rio may recognize she was hiding the whole truth from him. If the gods could not convince Rio to join them, all would be lost.

             "Oh what the hell! You only live once, right? Where are these fruits?"

             Excitement burst from Athena, "Excellent! The fruits grow on an island in the far west, so far in fact it may be nearer from the east; there is a single tree in the middle of the island, a glorious sight, on which ambrosia grows: but it is protected"

             There was a knock at the door. Confused, Rio made his way toward the sound and investigated through the peephole. The source was more confusion; why would an actor from the hotel be at his door in full gladiator attire. The only conclusion Rio could fathom was the ideal male specimen must be involved with one of the two lovely dancers currently residing in his bed. Rio never considered himself much of a fighter, he’d taken his fair share of punches but he preferred to talk his way out of things. Unfortunately, the man at his door seemed more concerned with actions than words.

              As he turned around the presence of the woman in armor reminded him he was currently in godly company and thus probably protected from harm, "There’s a large man outside my door who may or may not be dating one of the young ladies in my bed; but I assume with you here I’ve got nothing to worry about, sooooooo," with that he turned and opened the door before Athena could speak and stepped fully naked into the doorway, "Can I help you, mate?"

              The gladiator stared at him, "You must be Rio."

             "What if I am, bub? You clearly know who I am and you came knocking on my door, so why don’t you tell me what the hell this is about!"

               Before Rio could react the man had drawn the prop spear from his back and used it to sweep Rio’s feet out from under him. Once his back had been thoroughly introduced to the ground, the man advanced and pressed the tip of the, now revealed to most definitely be real and not a prop, spear against Rio’s throat.

               "Achilles! That’s enough!" yelled Athena.

              The soldier theatrically spun his spear away from Rio and stowed it behind the shield on his back.

             "Rio, this is your guide and protector for your quest. General in the Olympian army, Achilles."

              As he began to lift himself off the floor, Rio looked at Greek hero, "The Achilles? As in the heel guy from the Trojan war?"

                "Do you know of another Achilles?"

                Rio looked down at the feet of his guide and noticed his sandals were of common Grecian design, however slightly altered to allow for an armored heel cup.

                "I learned my lesson once and it most certainly will not happen again."

               "Understandable. Well as long as you never trip me like that again, I will have to admit I feel safe in your company."

               Athena interjected, "We the gods, felt Achilles would be the best protector on your journey; but we offer another aid," she removed a gold plated minotaur horn from her belt and blew into it, releasing no sound.

              She handed the horn to Rio, "Use this to summon our gift to you; a guardian," as she finished a piercing shriek penetrated the room from the balcony, as if a lion and eagle were competing for the loudest cry. The source of the noise was a winged beast with, the body of a lion, back legs of a bird and head of an eagle; which comfortably came to roost on the balcony.

                Athena beckoned to the creature, "This is Custo, he is a griffin and he will be your guardian." 

                 Rio stared at the beast. It was unlike any creature he had ever seen; it seemed to stare back at him, admiring him; wanting his love and approval.

               "Custo was created specifically for you; as such his commitment to you will be total. You needn’t worry about feeding him; he can handle that on his own. Simply, blow the horn to summon him, he will hear it no matter where he is."

                 Rio stared at the horn in his hand, then back at the strange feline bird, "Sounds great, as long as he doesn’t leave dead mice or horses on my door step we should get along swimmingly."

                 Achilles chuckled.

                "With these heavenly gifts Rio, you are prepared for the hardships you will face. I must take my leave," Athena said as she put her helm back on.

               "Awe, you’re leaving? Don’t I get a good luck kiss?"

               She smiled, "Perhaps when you complete your quest; but until then, I will be watching you," with her closing statement, Athena began to brilliantly glow and transform back into an owl; only to fly out the patio door, when complete.

               Rio followed her with his eyes for a moment, before his attention was returned to the griffin on his balcony. He walked closer to the beast and spoke loudly, "I Don’t Need Your Services Right Now! You Can Go!"

              Custo remained, staring quizzically at his master.

            "You Go Now!" he implored a shooing motion to deliver his point, and followed it with the statement, "shoo-shoo!"

              The griffin ruffled its feathers and fur; then proceeded to lie down. Convinced the animal had no intentions of leaving Rio advanced to the sliding glass door and shut it. With the griffin successfully sealed away from the occupants of his bed, Rio turned his attention to the armored warrior in his room.

              "Alright champ, what do we do now?"

               Achilles rolled his eyes, "Now, we leave and begin this forsaken quest," no attempts were made to hide his contempt.
          "Right now, but it’s so early?" Rio responded while drinking his white Russian, which had successfully survived the introduction to Achilles.

              "The sooner we begin, the sooner it will end. Let’s go."
              The demigod advanced on the hero and rested his free hand on the armored shoulder, "Look, I haven’t been to sleep in a few days; let me take a nap, say good bye to these two lovely ladies and then we can go, yeah?"

               Achilles made no reply and simply stared at the hand on his shoulder.

               It struck Rio, his best interest may lie in removing his hand from the warrior and so he did, "How about we meet in the bar at two? Just give me until two and then we can do all the questing, huh?"

               Silence met Rio’s plea; silence which beckoned him to down the rest of his drink and shift uneasily.

              With an irritated sigh of consent, Achilles walked toward the front door and opened it, "Two O’clock and don’t be late!" he emphasized slamming the door and never looking back.

               Rio went back to the bar, mixed another white Russian, said, "fuck it," downed the spirit, closed his balcony’s blinds (if he didn’t have to see the griffin it would be as if it weren’t there) and crawled into bed. His entrance roused the young lady on his left.

              "Hey," she said, half asleep.

               "Hey to you," he replied, kissing her.

               "Hey," rebutted the young lady on his right, not wanting to be left out.

               "And hey to you too," he offered, turning to kiss her.

***

              The time was two forty-nine and Achilles still had found no sign of Rio. In the past forty-nine minutes he had made rounds to every bar, restaurant and drink vendor the casino offered. He accosted the bartenders, servers and host in every establishment, describing Rio; it turned out nearly every employee was familiar with the gentleman in question, but at this point none had seen him today. Unwilling to be defeated Achilles made them all agree to page him in the events of Rio’s arrival.
             The ordeal had been complicated by the incessant tourists, all of which found it necessary to be nuisances, until he conceded a picture. The first family to approach him elicited a feeling of pride; in all these centuries, he was still receiving recognition. The pride was quickly stifled when the same family ran over to a casino actor wearing a gladiator costume and again pleaded for a picture. The swarming continued over his expedition throughout the casino. His irritation grew; after all, he was Achilles! General in the Olympian Army! Hero of the Trojan War! These mere mortals had no right to bother him!

            He had just been considering the fate of the next mortal to pester him, when a drunk couple staggered up and asked him for a picture.

           "ENOUGH!!!" he exclaimed as he drew his spear and drove it into the margarita cart before him, using his momentum to carry him up, "I do not work here! I am not some actor, paid to amuse you! I am Achilles! The greatest warrior the world has ever known and I demand your respect!"

            Applauds were the chosen response of the audience.

           "What are you doing? Stop clapping this isn’t a performance you fools!"

            Laughter was the next consensus. The drunk man responsible for Achilles outburst tapped his foot, "Ah man that was awesome! Do we tip you for that or what?" he asked, with a five in hand.

            "I don’t want your money! I am Achilles!" he roared, kicking the drunk’s hand.

            "Bullshit! Achilles is dead, asshole!" yelled an unseen heckler.

            "And until a few days ago, you all believed god dead and we know how that worked out for you!"

             A hushed silence fell over the crowd; clearly they believed the joke to be in bad taste.

            "Look dick, I just want a picture! Is that too much to ask?"

            "Yes it is! I am a hero, not your whore!"

            The drunk was now speaking with the courage only found after a few too many, "Oh yeah? If you’re some big time hero, then prove it! If not, then shut your mouth and take the fucking picture!" he emphasized his point by poking Achilles in the shin, which was currently at his eye level.
           The legend remained on the cart, simmering in anger. Upon reaching, what he felt to be an acceptable way to precede; Achilles, in a threatening manner, spun his spear toward the audience before sheathing it and leaping off his makeshift stage. His landing brought him toe to toe with the inebriated pest. Removing his shield, he used it to push past the drunk and through the crowd.

           "If you want to see a hero, follow me!"

           The crowd obeyed.

           They followed their armored Sheppard all the way to the casinos entrance, adding to their flock on the journey.

             Achilles ended the parade on the sidewalk outside the building. He looked to the sky to ensure there were furies present. The initial days of beast invasion had led to a number of Vegas-goers deaths; however after the preliminary gorging the beasts had taken up to only eating people who passed out on the streets, in an attempt to not eat themselves to death. Coincidentally, after the massive influx of furies into Las Vegas, the homeless problem that plagued the city had nearly disappeared.

              When it came to throwing a spear, none have ever lived who could outmatch Achilles; even with his unparalleled abilities, nailing a fury from this distance would be difficult. There could be no room for error, this display had to be decisive; he turned to find the drunk who instigated him and was surprised to see how large the assembly had grown. Luckily, the drunk was still in front of the crowd: Achilles smiled at him and beckoned him forward. The impaired man looked at his girlfriend with a face that said, he really had no interest in answering any beckons; only to find a girlfriend who was having a difficult time focusing on anything, but more than willing to push him forward, none the less.

              The crowd applauded.

              Achilles maintained his smile toward the man; even when the man was within arms range, grabbed by the collar, pulled forward and head-butted. Blood spilled from the unconscious man’s broken nose, as Achilles through him into the street.

              An audible gasp escaped the crowd, "Real heroic, jerk!" someone yelled.

              "Wait!" barked Achilles, his eyes trained on the furies; waiting for one to attack the sinful bait he laid out.

             The dive began. Without hesitation, Achilles drew his spear, pausing momentarily to take aim, before letting fly the weapon. The spear hit its target destroying the controlled dive the fury had been on; and instead bringing the snake crashing down to the ground where it rolled to a rest at Achilles’ feet.

                He pulled the spear free, knowing that with the blood of this fury spilled, more would be coming. A blood curdling screech rang through the Las Vegas strip as three more furies dove toward Achilles. When the first one was close, he aggressively introduced the serpent to his shield, knocking it away. Using the inertia from the blow, he drove his spear through the throat of the second; leaving the spear in the fallen beast he rushed forward toward the third attacker, drawing his sword and cleaving a wing from the beast.

           The injured reptile showered the gladiator in blood as it crashed into its felled companion. Achilles approached the wounded predator and quickly pierced its neck, permanently resting the threat. The hero took a moment to put his sword away, and draw his spear out of the fury his latest victim lay under. The spear had only just tasted freedom from its cadaverous landing, when it was hurled through the air again; this time making a carcass out of the fury which had become acquainted with Achilles shield.

                 The man of legends turned toward the crowd, his body soaked with the blood of myths.

                 The crowd was silent.

                 Slowly, one person began to clap and make their way out of the herd.

                Rio stepped forward, cigarette in mouth, hair unkempt, applauding.

               " This," he said, "is by no means the bar."

                The time was three-seventeen.


By: Michael Wilshire

Chapter 4

And another!
                                                                          Chapter 4 

(chorus)

The wheels of fate are set in motion

Only to stop when its course is traveled

          On Mount Olympus (mount was again an official part of its title, now that the actual mountain had reconnected to the heavens) Zeus was returning to an audience of gods, less than thrilled with his recent behavior.
          "What the Hades was that!" yelled Demeter, once Zeus stopped glowing.
          "Mortals can be most infuriating."
          "I understand that, but you could not confer with the rest of us? I have no qualms with the zapping of the ringleader, but releasing upon the earth that which was imprisoned and hidden from it; that was unacceptable. Did you think of the consequences? Those beings you have released, Gaia’s children, they are sure to harbor resentment from their imprisonment!" pressed Demeter.

           "Yes well…I ugh…hadn’t really thought that through…"

           "You thought none of it through! You went lightning bolt crazy, like always!"

           "In hindsight, I will admit, I may have over reacted slightly…"

           "Slightly?" 

           Hera began clapping, "All hail the triumphant return of our Mighty and Just, lord Zeus!" 
           "Shut your vile mouth Hera!! I am still Chief god of Olympus, and as such will not have my actions questioned! Not by my wife, nor by you, sister," Zeus shot back, unwilling to admit his mistake.

            Hades choose this time to waft from the shadows, and introduce reason, "We must remain calm and consider the enormity of what has transpired. Squabbling amongst ourselves is erroneous; the entire fate of Olympus could be in jeopardy. This was a thrashing of the ancient treaty and in all fairness, is an act of war."

           "I meant no such thing!" rebutted Zeus.

          "Regardless of meaning; you unleashed a massive force of destruction unto man, completely disregarding our agreement to abstain from interaction."

            Zeus was still determined that he committed no wrong, "The force will only be destructive because the humans have grown without limits!"

           "This is true brother; but it was us who removed those limits and now the reinstitution of them will be destructive. Justify your actions how you see fit, the end product is still an act of violence against the race of man."

            Zeus remained silent, unable to find a flaw in Hades logic.

          "It is with that in mind I propose a consultation with the sisters of fate; only they will know what our actions have wrought," concluded Hades.

             Zeus let out a defeated sigh, "As always my brother, you are sensible and correct."

            "It happens when you spend all of your time with the dead."

            "Hermes!"

            The messenger of the gods soared forth to Zeus, "Yes my lord?"

            "Go to the sisters of fate, and tell them we require a meeting."

            "Without delay, my lord," no sooner had the words left his mouth, than Hermes was through the gates of Olympus and off to deliver his message.

            A moment of silence settled on the crowd.

          "The need to summon has passed. We know when we are needed, before those who need us, know they will," the experienced riddled voice belonged to an old wizened woman in gray robes, heavily resting on a cane. She was accompanied by a younger woman, in the fruit of her years, wearing the same type of gray cloak and carrying a baby in similar attire. The resemblance said triplets, but the age divide said generations.

            "Ah the fates, always fashionably late," replied Hades.

             A voice teeming with wisdom escaped from the baby, "Always fashionably late to those who expect us…"

            The middle sister, holding the baby finished the thought, "but always right on time in the grand scheme."

           Zeus advanced on the sisters, "Indeed. I assume you know why you are here?"

          "You shan’t assume, Mighty Zeus; for although you may consent to being an ass, we are of no such state," answered the eldest.

           Zeus always found talking to the fates to be a great chore, "Then I know, you know why you are here," he gritted through his teeth.

           Again the oldest fielded a response, "Of course we know."

           In an impetuous act of youth the youngest elaborated, "We knew when and why we would be here, before you were even aware a problem was developing."

           "And no advice! No warning!" Zeus snapped.

           The middle sister offered reason, "It was fated for you to take the actions you did; only you could have changed the present, not us."

           "Then what’s different now? Why are you here if things can’t be changed?" Zeus was growing weary of the circles the debate was traveling.

          The response came from all three sisters simultaneously; "The course of violent actions you have preceded in, Mighty Zeus, hath intertwined the threads of fate for all

we know; and though for now there are many paths the threads may take, nearly all end the same."

           "What are you saying? It sounds as if I am being accused of bringing about the end of times!"

            "Perhaps not the end of all times, but almost certainly the end of times as you know them."

            "What does that even mean? What does this future you elusively speak of hold?" Zeus always had difficulties deciphering underlying meanings, and his demand made that clear.

            "The future cannot be known until the present is settled. You actions, Mighty Zeus, will either leave Olympus in ruins, or lead it to a new perception of prosperous. You see, Mighty Zeus, there is one amongst man, whom if marches against Olympus will assure its demise; but bade those thoughts of violence Mighty Zeus, for if this one’s blood is spilled, than Mount Olympus is sure to fall."

             "There seems to be only one way for this to end sisters of fate, and I must say I am not pleased," Zeus seemed to be considering his options, "even if we were to protect this ‘one amongst man’ and convince them not to raise arms against Olympus, are time is doomed at the end of this mortals life, if I am not mistaken?"

              "Ah, but you are Mighty Zeus. For this one amongst man is not only the son of man. His lineage is half mortal, half divine."

              "IMPOSSIBLE!! I have fathered no child in centuries!!"

              "The words you speak are true, Mighty Zeus, but your ignorance lies in you being not the only divinity on Olympus. You must be mindful, Mighty Zeus, not all demigods must be fierce warriors to be laden with destiny. This man in particular is far from your conception of hero, but it’s erroneous because his blood gives him a touch of destiny, deeply woven with the fate of Olympus."

              Zeus was growing quite irritated with the information he was receiving, "Very well, he can become a god; if it ensures the prosperity of Olympus I’m sure we can find him something to rule over. Can we at least know who he is? Or more importantly, who fathered the little bastard?"

            "His conception is far from noble and was heavily influenced by the drink from the vines; for which his father is the god of."

             Once said, all eyes in the Parthenon repositioned themselves, however necessary, to be able to firmly lock on Dionysus; the god of wine and marry-making. 

            Dionysus’s amethyst eyes remained firmly hidden behind his dark curly locks as he took a deep pull from his cornucopia; filled with wine so unfathomably red one might find themselves overcome with the sense of plummeting when staring at it; and if one were so unlucky to catch the glimpse of the wine as a droplet falling onto his toga, one would be remised to find oneself staring into a fabric of the same color, thus giving one a perception of infinity falling into infinity.

            A guilty grin was revealed when the cornucopia was lowered. A grin that irritated the gods, yet soothed none the less.

            It was at this moment Hermes returned to the Parthenon, "My lord Zeus, I went to summon the fates but they weren’t there!"

           "Its fine Hermes, the fates are here," responded Zeus gesturing to empty space, "ugh…or at least they were…?"

           "Well, as long as they were here I assume you handled the necessary business. Just so you know, I did receive a message for you while I was on Earth looking for them."

           "You received a message for me?"

            "Yes my lord, there’s a large assembly of humans at the Olympus coliseum requesting an audience."

           Ares rushed forward, "There are mortals tainting the sanctity of my armies training grounds?!? I will slaughter all of them!!!"

           "Quiet you impetuous fool!" erupted Zeus, "Have you witnessed nothing? We must not seek violence! Hermes, what’s all down there?"

          "Well, there are; news teams, journalist, dignitaries, diplomats, world leaders, military leaders, ad agencies, police, paramedics, fire trucks, athletes, and a celebrity or four."

          "Oh, wow, um…I really don’t know what to tell them; I’m a not really sure how to deal with all this. Anybody got any ideas? I don’t think it’s a good idea to broadcast our vulnerability right now…um… Hermes, if we don’t say anything, do you think they will just go away?"

          "Ugh…with all do respect my lord; no? Most of them are very anxious and restless. They seem very volatile."

           "Damn!" bellowed Zeus, "Wait I know! These humans are all really ignorant! I mean look at the trial. We are gods and they are going to want answers, lots of answers…how about we tell them only the chosen may speak to us…and to determine who the chosen is they must…a…challenge our greatest warriors to one on one combat!... Yeah, in the coliseum!" Zeus felt he was on to a great idea, "Ares! You handle this, tell them they must challenge one of the six generals of the Olympian Army! If mankind’s greatest hero can defeat the Olympian’s greatest hero, they can have an audience with me, Zeus, the champion of Olympus! HAHAHA!"

            "With pleasure, Zeus," grinned Ares.

             Hermes looked around the room and noticed a massive uneasiness residing among the gods, "Sooooo, what exactly did I miss?"

 

Chapter 3

In an unprecedented move we have double post this week!

 



Chapter 3

(chorus)

The rules of the game have been laid out;

Now those who feel cheated must make their voice heard

          The media was tumultuous: there was not a paper, magazine, newschannel, website, podcast, cooler talk or random raving homeless person without a perspective on the scientific bombshell that Sci-volution had unleashed; and they all made it known. Some spoke out against it, others commended it and a few even made viral videos about it. Meanwhile churches were crumbling, others were lashing out and some even replaced their books of faith with graphing calculators in hopes of salvaging their worship. Society had perched itself precariously on the edge of anarchy. Among all the differing opinions of the subject there was one fact they all accepted unanimously, the math; try as they might (and there were a number whom tried awful mighty) no one could find a single problem with the math.

          The feelings on earth were a swirling vortex, littered with everything from euphoria to just plain pissed off; but nobody could claim to be more pissed off by Sci-volution Advancements’ discovery than the residents of Olympus.

          It’s a common misconception that gods are omniscient, omnipotent and omnipresent. To clarify: they don’t see all; they don’t know all; they don’t command all; and certainly cannot be all. They can, however, see, do, command and be quite a lot; and if used effectively, they can definitely make one question the qualifications for using the prefix omni.

          In centuries past the Olympians decided to take an inactive role in human lives; since then the gods have found themselves rather bored. They’ve spent most of their time watching the humans, occasionally putting them on their toes with unexplainable events; freak storms, people lifting busses, keeping people alive who should have died, letting people die that should have lived and overall, just making life a menagerie of destitution for the little mortals. They consider this an inactive role because, while the gods may still hold bearing over the concepts they embody, they had vowed to no longer walk among man. They would reside in the realm of Olympus and let humans take the reins of their world. Sadly, the mythical creatures of yore were neither gods nor man; this resulted in an inequitable fate for a deal they had nothing to do with, and thus were sealed away in a space and time envelope within the planet.

          After doing this, it was not long before the gods realized humans are remarkably uninteresting to watch when beings beyond them were not causing mischief; this led the gods to decide, influencing their areas of expertise would be okay, because it did not involve them walking on earth and interfering directly; but still allowed them their capital source of entertainment.

          None of the gods had watched Pan for entertainment on that infamous Thursday. In fact, none of the gods had watched Pan for entertainment in quite some time (they found her to be quite humdrum after leaving her ex); because of this, it was not until Sci-volution went public with “its” discovery that the gods even received word that they did not exist; information that never sits well with any being that knows it is.

          “Those ungrateful little ants! Who do they think they are? I don’t exist? WE don’t exist? I have half a mind to lay them all to waste!” erupted Ares, in a fury not felt since a time long passed.

          He was standing in the center of the Olympian Parthenon, an architectural master piece, nestled snuggly among the clouds of Olympus. The composition of the Parthenon (like all buildings in Olympus) were the very clouds that made its foundation: the walls, pillars, roofs, floors, and all existing forms of architecture always seemed to be moving but held their shape as if by some unseen force.

          “And you would be well advised, to use the other half of your mind to not react so brash; everything from Tartarus to the Elysian Fields are being filled faster than ever by what these people do to each other; they do not need you to help them destroy,” came a response in more of an absence of voice than an actual tone.

          “Hades, you do not spend enough time in Olympus to tell me how I should think!”

          “Perhaps I don’t, but your actions on Olympus have repercussions on earth, which I am ultimately affected by and you would be well advised to remember the process works both ways.”

          Ares struggled for a moment, before eliciting a response less enlightened then anticipated given the duration designated specifically for the moment, “Well, what else can we do?”

          A response came not from Zeus on his mighty throne of clouds which seemed to circumscribe his form; the champions of the Gods had remained uncharacteristically silent through this debate; rather it was delivered from his beautiful (in a way comparable only to the seasons) sister and goddess of the harvest, Demeter.

         “I am convinced we should just leave the situation alone,” her appeal demurring the preceding argument, “In their eyes we have been dead for a long time, we may as well leave it as such,” her eyes begging for rationalism and composure.

          “Wise words Demeter,” Athena responded as she emerged from the crowd of deities. “However, I do not fully agree with them. While I do not share my brother’s wonton lust to ravage their world, I do agree that we must, in some way, directly address this issue with the mortals. I fear the behavior on earth when the entire world accepts that there are no gods.”

          “You all sound like squabbling children!” the words struck venomously from Hera’s lips as she dramatically detached herself from the crowds, “allow my son to march his army across the world! It will not be ravaged,” she emphasized, while glaring at Athena, “but a lesson shall be wrought,” her expression softened as she looked around the Parthenon.

            Ares bristled at mention of using the Olympian army, a compromise Zeus had allowed to appease his whining after the treaty with humans was made. The souls of all fallen heroes came before Ares and were given the choice; pass on to the underworld, or join the Olympian army, be trained by the greatest heroes the world has ever known and gloriously serve Ares for the rest of eternity.

           “My army is ready! After all these centuries it would be good for them to see combat!”

           “Use of the Olympian army, will only teach humanity to hate us; an outcome we are not seeking,” the words crashed from Poseidon’s mouth, and tumbled Ares argument, “Punishment should be laid out and it should be decisive, not foolish. We must appear all powerful and vengeful, yet merciful and forgiving.”

           The defense of the mortals was a pyrrhic verbal ensemble brimming from Apollo as he wafted forward, “how can we blame them for losing grasp of reality? We left them alone in the world. When anything is left from sight long enough it will be forgotten.”

           “Go play your lyre and prance about; you know nothing of the order of things!” Ares raged stepping to face Apollo, pushing his fiery red armor against the semi bare chest of the light god.

           The tip of a bow, belonging to Artemis, forcefully pushed Ares back a step, “and you would be well advised to hold your snide tongue when speaking to a god greater than you,” her response more piercing than any arrow she could unleash.

          “BAH!” was the response Ares decided to use as he sulked off.

          Demeter had grown tired of the juvenile direction the debate had digressed into and offered a solution.

          “This arguing is getting us nowhere. I believe our response to this situation must be decided by the Great Olympians only. The assembly is too vast, and to hear everyone’s opinion could very well lead us through the destruction of man.”

          Ares, who was doing a superb job of avoiding hints to stop talking, decided a response was in order, “HA! That is the most sensible thing muttered from your lips! Take yourself out of the decision, let US the twelve High Olympians decide the fate of mankind!”

           The demeanor of Demeter completely displaced its usual soft and inviting purple glow which emanated from her toga, and instead relished a dark, cold void of light. Her features which had been warm and comforting were now callous and distressing, “And YOU son of Hera, shall not forget, that before twelve “High” gods of Olympus there were six Great Olympians of which you are NOT included!”

           “ENOUGH!” Zeus’s voice struck louder than the bolts of thunder he commanded. “I will have no more squabbling or bickering; and on this issue, Demeter is correct,” he rose from his throne, taking the encompassing clouds with him to resolve into his toga and hair.

           “But Zeus!” whined Ares.

          “Do not try my patience because I have little! This is a decision best made by the original six Olympians; three brothers and three sisters. We shall decide the fate of man,” his expression softened as he explained his decision to the assembly, “it is not that I lack faith in any of you, however the opinions among all here differ so greatly, by the time every argument is heard, I fear Athena may be right and mankind will have destroyed itself.”

           It was one of those rare moments when Zeus offered what could be considered a rational decision.

          “But there are six of us, what if there is a tie?” the question timidly escaped Hestia, who until now had remained silent.

          “The decision will ultimately be made by me. I am chief of the Olympians and as such will fully carry the burden of the decision. However, I ask for insight from my oldest and wisest siblings before finalizing any actions.”

           Hera, feeling the situation slipping away from her chose to attack her husband’s response, “if the decision is ultimately made by you, Zeus, why bother asking our input?”

           “If you feel your opinion is of no value, I will bare that in mind when you give it, my wife,” Zeus’s response seemed to repel her complaints and further challenging, “now come forth my brothers and sisters; let us decide the fate of man.”

            Poseidon swelled forth to the center of the Parthenon, his briny body ebbing next to his sister Demeter, who had returned to her natural warm self. Hera left the side of her son, giving him a slight squeeze on the shoulder, to reassure him that mommy could handle this (a gesture ultimately lost due to the encumber sum armor he wore). Hestia who had tried to stay detached from the debate, reluctantly made her way forward; arms wrapped around herself in a menial attempt at support; it merely highlighted the contrast of her peach toga against her pale skin, which seemed to have lost more pigmentation as her anxiety grew. The last of the siblings to make their way forward was Hades, drifting forth from the fringes of the assembly, his wraith like form reluctant to haunt the progressing skeleton it shrouded.

          Once the six Olympians had gathered Zeus spoke, “Now brothers and sisters, I wish to hear from each one of you, what are your opinions regarding the matter at hand…”

          “Let Ares march his army across the world and punish the frail mortals!” interrupted Hera, before any other deity had the opportunity to speak.

           “Yes, I’ve heard those same words from your mouth already Hera; and being that you’ve already told me your opinion has no value and because you did not take the time to eloquently present your valueless opinion in a more structured way, but rather repeated yourself, I demand to finish what I was saying and proceed forth in a cordial and orderly fashion,” Zeus turned to Poseidon, “brother, what do you feel should be done?”

          “It is clear to me mankind must know of our existence, our silence has bred heresy; we must show them Olympus and the power of the Olympians.”

          “I see…”replied Zeus as he approached Demeter, “and you sister, no deity better understands the human response to changes in their environment; how would you proceed?”

          “We are the architects of our own fate in this situation; it was our choices and our decisions that have allowed this heresy to flourish. I do not believe we can justly punish the mortals for actions we ourselves are responsible for.”

          “Indeed…”

          “However, if we expect to correct our languishing behavior we must first rebuild a dialogue with the mortals, and though I personally fear the repercussions, I find this course of action less worrying than an act of violence against them.”

         “A fair perspective, for indeed we must consider the consequences against ourselves for our decisions,” Zeus attention shifted, “Hestia, sister, guardian of the hearth, what insight do you offer on this subject?”

          The foreground of the debate was clearly an unsettling area for Hestia, “Well…I’m unsure…I am offended by what has transpired, yet I don’t know where the blame should settle…I feel we are the guilty party, but that admission does little to solve the problem.”

          “It’s true; simply identifying an error in judgment on our part does not rectify the volatile situation. Hades, you are all too familiar with punishments, do you believe that is the course of action we should implore?”

           Hades raised his head from below his cloak’s hood; revealing the blue flames of his eyes, illuminating the skull beneath his wispy gaunt face, “Punishment implies guilt of a crime and while the humans have indulged in heresy, we are the perpetrators of the crime. We allowed them to forget the order of the universe; we let them believe they could find all the answers they needed through their math and science; that these concepts held true not only to their reality but to all realities. We handed them the tools to pursue a means of existence, for which we have punished them for in the past. As such, we cannot punish them for our mistakes, rather we must seek a resolution to isolate the consequences we are responsible for and rectify our indiscretion.”

          “Very insightful, brother. I’d expect nothing less from a man whose existence centers around just judgment,” replied Zeus. He turned his attention to the rest of the assembly, “Now the decision comes down to me; I have listened to the arguments regarding our course of action and have witnessed validity all around. I remember a similar situation when the mortal’s actions brought down my full wrath…”

           Ares began to bristle at the mention of wrath.

          “…however, that situation lays in ruins and now a worse case of heresy has arisen. Times have changed, and so must we…”

          Ares stopped bristling.

           “We could have intervened at any point and prevented the mortals from this logical train of thought, but we choose to remain silent. An ancient pact we decreed allowed life on earth to happen independently from life on Olympus and we have all obeyed. There has been neither fraternizing, mingling nor directly interfering with man since this decree. None of us have returned to Gaia’s world…”

           It’s interesting to note, Zeus had become so wrapped up in his own monologue at this point he failed to notice the uneasy shifting that washed over the crowd of his peers.

          “…and because of this we have been forgotten by its inhabitants. We must also consider the ramifications of our actions, for the mere act of taking action, is in itself, a direct violation of our pact with mankind. War is not our goal; we are gods, but they are numerous and even the mightiest of lions may fall when swarmed by enough ants. It is with this in mind, I decree, mankind shall not be punished; rather we shall reveal ourselves to them and begin work with the mortals to clarify their true nature in existence.”

            Zeus finished his speech and allowed for his decree to wash over the crowd.

           “A rational course of action, brother,” the silence was broken by Poseidon, whose words were as calm as the blue sea water of himself, “it is not necessarily the decision I would have favored, however, it is well thought out. I will honor it and assure that all other gods of Olympus, do as well,” his eyes darting to Ares.

            “Thank you my brother, your support is invaluable. I feel we must do this sensibly as well, having Mount Olympus rise to the heavens will overwhelm the humans; as such, I feel we should send a single representative to Earth, rather than bring all of the Olympians crashing down upon them.”

           Hermes fluttered out of the crowd, “Should I prepare for a trip my lord?”

           “No my friend, I believe this is a duty best suited for me. After all, who is a better ambassador for the Olympians then chief among them, right? I shall depart immediately following the adjournment of this meeting.” Zeus pointed an open hand at the ground, the clouds beneath receded, leaving a hole to the blue sky underneath.

           On cue, the audience began to cheer and applaud enthusiastically; except for Ares, who seemed to only be clapping as to avoid a trident to his keester.

          As the congratulations faded Zeus spoke, “And with that I declare the debate adjourned and I depart!” He jumped into the air and began to glow, at the height of his jump he tucked forward, into a swan dive course with the hole he created; the light of his body built in intensity, and finally overcame any semblance of body, and as a bolt of lightning Zeus lashed though the opening on a striking course with earth.

***

          It was late in the workday on Friday and Toby Mikael was pacing in front of the Sci-Volution building, mumbling to himself; a behavior which would normally attract security’s attention, but currently went unnoticed because of the protestors assembled outside of the building, causing a much greater distraction than pacing and shouting profanities louder than any mumblings. Toby’s mind was honed on one thing: revenge. He was considering the exact course of action to make his fantasy a reality; all courses involved the .22 caliber derringer he had in his pocket. The difficulty with any course of action was his final words to Mr. Bodan. Toby would replay the events over in his head that led to his revenge quest, hoping to figure out what should be said: he’d been called to Mr. Bondan’s office; upon entering he had been decreed a lazy, no talent, pimple headed waste of flesh and was promptly fired for fraternizing and sexual harassment during the work hour; security escorted him out of the building where he found a box of his personal effects set in a water filled gutter. Overall it had been a shitty day.
          Toby went home and found himself lost in a metaphysical haze about life; his boss and mentor had performed one of the most merciless terminations Toby could have imagined; but Friday morning brought an epiphany to clear the fog. While watching the news, his attention was caught by a story on Sci-Volution Advancements; apparently the latest discovery the company brandished, was a mathematical proof that irrevocably disproved the existence of God. Toby was surprised to learn a “special team,” headed by Mr. Bondan himself, had made the discovery. The gears in Toby’s head had begun to turn, he realized he was somehow involved in this, and Mr. Bodan had wanted him cut out. Revenge was the first and only action he thought of; after all if there was no god then there would be no afterlife, and if there was no afterlife decisions in life carried no repercussions beyond life. So with that affirmation, Toby resolved to kill Mr. Bodan.
          Unfortunately for Toby, upon arriving at Sci-Volution he realized he did not know what to say to Mr. Bodan. In the movies, people always have a great one liner to recipients of revenge and Toby was afraid of cheapening his glory without the right zinger; resulting in the pacing on the sidewalk in front of the building’s entrance.
          Hours passed as he walked to and fro; Toby knew if he waited too long the building would close for the night and his opportunity for any revenge (even cheapened) would pass.
          He had nearly given up hope, when his righteous one liner hit him like a bolt of lightning. Excited, Toby turned toward entrance and took one step toward it when an actual bolt of lightning struck though him and into the ground, creating a fairly large crater and uncreating any trace of Toby Mikael.
          The cacophony drew attention from protestors and passer-bys, all of whom were surprised to see a man of large stature, rise out of the smoking hole, wearing nothing more than a white toga.
          The stranger walked past the protestors and spectators, straight into the building, as if his actions were an everyday occurrence. He made his way to the receptionist’s desk, surprised he had yet to receive any odd glances from the buildings occupants. As he laid his hands on the front of the counter the receptionist did not even bother to take her eyes away from her current tasks; transferring calls, surfing the internet and trying to figure out an eight letter word across for debauchery.
         “Welcome to Sci-Volution, where we are dedicated to evolving the sciences; my name is Tanya and how may I help you?” her voice nearly as uninterested as the rest of her.
         “I have come to speak with Mr. Bodan,” rolled a deep and thunderous voice.
          “Do you have an appointment?”
          “No. But I don’t need one.”
          “Oh? And whys that?” her interest still avoiding the party in question, and focusing in on rather charged comment in the blog she was reading.
          “I am the almighty Zeus, King of the Olympians, wielder of lighting and champion of Olympus!”
Tanya laid down her pen and focused all of her attention on commenting the bloggers word’s, “uh-huh, well Mr. Zeus you still will need an appointment.”
          “But I am the Great Zeus! I need no appointment!”
          “Sure you are,” she replied, making no attempt to hide her condescending tone while pulling up Mr. Bodan’s itinerary, “but even a god needs an appointment. I should be able to schedule you in for next Wednesday at three…”
        “This is important! I am a god, I do not wait!”
          “Well, if that’s the case you should have been here earlier because at this point I’ve scheduled meetings for 8 Jesuses, 6 Thors, 5 Alahs, 4 anitchrists, 3 vishnus, 2 Ohrimazd, a King in Yellow and believe it or not, you aren’t the first Zeus. So, as I said, if you wanted an earlier appointment, you should have come sooner.”
          “But they weren’t gods! I AM!”
           “There’s no need to yell sir.”
          “Yes there is! I came from Olympus to resolve this now! God’s do not wait until Wednesday at three!”
          “There is no way to resolve anything today and if you continue to remain irate I will have you removed from the premises, sir.”
          “Just try.” Zeus answered coldly with a slight flicker of lightning from his solid white eyes.
          This was enough to break the receptionists gaze away from her computer and crossword, in doing so she noticed for the first time that the robes and hair this man wore looked more like clouds than any fabric. Her response lost the condescending edge it had carried, “um…your only other option would be to…um…take the company to court for libel and slander, but…I don’t know how that will…um…work out…for you anyway…”
          “Very well. I will obey your mortal laws. Tell Mr. Bodan he will see me in court.”
          Zeus turned and left, planning a return to Mount Olympus for legal counsel.
          Tanya stared after the strange figure. After verifying his exit, she prepared to return to the crossword puzzle when a bright flash and thunderous noise rang from just outside the front door. She ran from her seat and out of the building to find a fresh smoking crater where the entrance way had been and another, slightly less fresh and non-smoking crater just down the sidewalk from this one.

***

          Mr. Bodan was remarkably calm for a man whose building had been vandalized by a bomber. Tanya had been so shaken by her interaction with the alleged terrorist that Mr. Bodan had decided to send her home early and gain his intel from surveillance cameras.
          He had already formed a plan of action during his first viewing of the tape. If this lunatic philosopher was willing to blow up Sci-volution’s sidewalk to make a point, he would provide an ideal vessel to further Mr. Bodan’s plan. The legal department had contacted Mr. Bodan for approval to pursue criminal charges against the unidentified assailant (security still had not been able to find the identity of the man due to the extravagant lengths of his costume and special effects which he implored). The legal department was told to take the case in a different direction, rather than pursue criminal prosecution; they were to begin building a case to sue this Mr. Zeus for slander. Mr. Bodan decided to beat the maniac at his own game. If this activist wanted to take Sci-volution to court on the grounds of the company slandering his identity, Sci-volution would take the man to court on the grounds of his actions slandering the company. The CEO told the legal department to build a solid case, the kind of case that would find its way comfortably into the appeal system; a case ready to climb the rungs of the courts, right to the very top; a case whose ruling would ultimately influence the constitution of the country; a case that had to be ready for trial by next Wednesday. The company had the connections to bypass bureaucracy and move forward fast. It would not matter if this Mr. Zeus even showed up to the trial, someone would represent him, even if Sci-volution had to front the bill through one of its subsidiaries.
          Time was a crucial factor in his plan; the faster he moved the more control he would seem to have. The PR department was tasked to work alongside legal and have the first ever nationally broadcast subpoena (to be delivered by Mr. Bodan of course) ready to go for the ten o’clock news that evening.
          The surveillance footage was near the end of its sixth run through.
          “…Gods do not wait until Wednesday at three!” bellowed the man in the video.
          Mr. Bodan smiled to himself, “oh, I assure you, a god can wait until Wednesday.”

***

          The news headlines were remarkable; article titles fitting of the supermarket tabloids riddled reputable news outlets spreading from the LA Times to the NY Times: Math vs. God; Ancient Myth sued by Scientist; Let There be Court and There Was, just to name a few.
          The entire populace of earth was captivated by this stranger in a toga; this philosopher willing to go the distance. Numerous others had stepped forward claiming to be divinities, but only this man calling himself Zeus was willing to be sued over the claim. The majority felt he was just some philosopher trying to make a name for himself; using the legal system as a publicity stunt. Conspiracy theorists thought Sci-volution was putting the whole thing on to take over the world. No one was willing to believe this Zeus character was actually a god, and if they did they kept it to themselves.
          The reality of the situation was simply an actual god, trying to prove his existence to humanity in nonviolent terms it could comprehend; a task that surprised Zeus in its difficulty.
          Nothing leading up to the trial surprised Mr. Bodan, rather it all worked out the way he planned. The media attacked the situation like a starved pack of piranhas; a fresh graduate from Harvard Law, Timothy Levin, eager to claim recognition in the law world had happily taken Mr. Zeus’s case; and due to some swindling and bribing the case was able to begin on the very next Wednesday.
           The only situation that came as slight surprise was when Mr. Zeus had used his trademark lightning bolt entrance to arrive in front of the courthouse; a dangerous gimmick that a city prosecutor was already building a case against. Mr. Bodan felt there was about a fifty-fifty chance the lunatic would show up; on one hand, you would have to be crazy to actually appear at court case you stood no chance of winning, but on the other, you would have to be pretty damn crazy to dress in a toga, blow things up and call yourself Zeus.
           The flashes from cameras and barrage of questions that awaited Zeus on his arrival paled the thunderous blast of his entrance. Every reporter, journalist and paparazzi in the nation (and a few neighboring ones) wanted a piece of this “historically artistic trial.” Inside the courthouse, cameraman stood ready to broadcast the trial nationally, but the masses of picture takers and question accouters were left to wait outside.
          The spectators were divided into two crowds; the religious and philosophical reich, which sat directly behind Mr. Levin and Mr. Zeus’s bench and on the opposing side sat the educated and scientific community, which were directly behind Mr. Bodan and Sci-volutions legal department’s bench. Even though Zeus himself had never been in a court room, he assumed the judge would sit behind the stand in the front (even though he felt entitled to it) and his bench would most likely be at the one Mr. Bodan was not at. What he did not know was why there was a man standing behind what he assumed to be his bench.
          “So, you must be Mr…um…Zeus?” Timothy asked.
          “That is I, young mortal.”
           “Alright, my name is Timothy Levin and I will be your defense attorney. Do you have a real name or are we sticking with Mr. Zeus?”
            “I don’t understand your question.”
          “Riiight…well Mr. Zeus, I must say I would really have preferred some sort of consultation with you before the case. My employers at the O.F.E.T.R.P told me you wouldn’t be appearing today.”
          “The O.F.E……what?”
         “The Organization for Fair and Equal Treatment of Religions and Philosophy, I assumed you were a member.”
            “I know not what this organization is, which you speak of.”
             Timothy stared at Zeus blankly for a moment, “Sir, this case will run a lot smoother if you can drop the charade with me.”
           “Your concern honors me young mortal; I will be sure to remember you when this is all over. I may have a very special place for you in my worship.”
            “Um…I have compiled a fairly strong case for you Mr. Zeus, but to be honest I don’t know if we can win this. Just let me do the talking and I will do my best to make sure this ends as well as it possibly can for you.”
           “Again, I appreciate your concern, but this trial…this burden, is mine alone.”
          “With all do respect Mr. Zeus, I really don’t think you understand the severity of the situation or what you’re up against. The legal team at Sci-volution Advancements is second to none, without someone familiar with the law beside you, it will be a blood bath.”
          “HAHAHA,” erupted the laughter from Zeus, “young man, I have smote titans and ruled gods, nothing these lawyers can do frightens me.”
          “That’s all well and good sir, but…”
          “That’s enough Mr. Levin. You have honored me enough already; but now you shall honor me by taking your leave.”
          “But…”
           “I COMMAND it!” boomed Zeus.
          Timothy’s face lost all color and fear became his default emotion in the wake of the powerful response he elicited from his client, “Very well. Good luck sir,” he replied as he gathered his briefcase and left the bench.
          Mr. Bodan had to use all self control not to laugh maniacally. This had worked out even better than he planned; the lunatic had refused free legal support and seemed determined to be crushed by Sci-volution. Mr. Bodan took solace that anyone this deranged had probably ruled out an insanity plea.
          And then the trial began.
         “All rise! The honorable Judge Fredrick presiding over the case of Mathematics Vs. God, Religions and Other Worldly Philosophies!”
         An older man, whose dark graying buzz cut framed his sharp uninviting face, made his way out of the judge’s chamber. The black robes he wore sat rigidly on his jagged posture, as he took his seat behind the podium.
         “You may be seated. First I would just like to say, I find this whole situation to be a mockery and perversion of the legal system. Exploiting a court of law for a publicity stunt, I believe, should be a crime in itself. The great state of California, for which I represent feels differently however, and as such I must proceed with this trial. That being said, my ruling will be harsh and carry the full authority of the law.”
Judge Fredrick allowed his words to settle, “Prosecution, you may proceed.”
          “Thank you your honor,” replied a faceless suit from Sci-volution’s legal department.
          It was Mr. Bodan that would speak for Sci-volution from here out, no labor on the company was too much for him to personally attend to.
          “Honorable Judge Fredrick, I come before you not as a man trying to maintain his discovery, but as a representative of the entire scientific community. Science and math composed the very fabric of which we base all things true and…”
          “Science is not true! You mortals classify it, thus it is flawed!” interrupted Zeus.
          “ORDER!” Fredrick yelled as he slammed his gavel down, “this court will not be some circus of interruptions! You will have your chance to speak Mr. Zeus. Prosecution proceed.”
           “Thank you your honor. As I was saying, we as a society, base our reality on the fundamental concepts of mathematics and science. Without these principles we have chaos; but this man is trying to say that all we know is wrong and all we have is chaos. He would have you believe that is not the most base mathematical principles that bind what we know, rather it is his will! Over the course of this trial I will prove to you judge, and everyone watching, that what this man claims to be is a blatant lie!”
           With that Mr. Bodan made the first strike in the lawsuit to determine the fate of the world. The curtain was lifted on the razzle dazzle, spare no expense prosecutions attack. It opened with the proof itself; mathematically validating it and all the proofs used within it. Parading forward, it attacked the defendant’s credibility; as to this point, no acts of god had occurred. The duet of this being, the only “miracles” to have yet been witnessed were all achievable with the use of modern special effects and a large amount of explosives. The final number addressed the dangerous and possibly psychotic, if not sociopathic tendencies of a person willing to implore said technologies and explosives with indiscretion among the public. The entire act, for the judge, audience in the building and the majority of the population watching on television, was a long drawn out explanation of what they already knew.
          Mr. Bodan did what the world expected, but the world was not watching to see him; what did the zealot know? Most shared Sci-volution’s view that he was criminally insane; but what if he held some piece of philosophical revelation comparable to Sci-volution’s breakthrough?
          One viewer, watching the proceedings from the sanctuary of her living room sofa, was particularly interested in what this Mr. Zeus was going to do. She happened to be the same individual responsible for discovering the mathematical proof, which was responsible for this whole trial.
          A feeling of guilt had settled over Pan while watching the proceedings. She had been relieved when Mr. Bodan had accepted the responsibility. The taunting green light of her cellphone had been replaced by a never ending barrage of red since that Thursday. Mr. Bodan had been relentless with emails, phone calls and text messages; checking on her welfare, updating her on developments, offering more time off and countless legal forms to give the company the rights to the discovery. The unremitting nature that he had perused Pan with was magnified in this current situation. Pan almost felt as if Mr. Bodan was determined to destroy the poor man standing opposite of him in a toga. She blamed herself for the public ruination of the robed man’s life.
         There was another feeling, beside guilt pestering Pan. Some sort of uneasiness, a sense of worry; almost like a building dread. It was the same type of feeling she had the day she lost focus and discovered the theorem in question. Pan had no idea what was going to happen, but she knew it would be radical.
           Her attention focused back in on the trial, as Mr. Bodan was ending his battery. Confident he had eroded any counter argument, and sufficiently proven that the nut in a toga was just that, Mr. Bodan rested.
Judge Fredrick sat for a moment then turned to the defenses bench and the one man behind it; the one man willingly taking on the entire scientific world, “The defense may now present its argument. Mr. Zeus, if you will proceed.”

          This was the moment philosophers, the religious and the curious had been waiting for. The philosophical breakthrough, if there was any, would come now. The secrets this man had uncovered about perception of reality were about to be revealed.

          “I am Zeus, God of the thunderbolt and Champion of Olympus; I stand before you now to offer my assistance. I assure you that the gods do exist and will return. I am not here to demand penance; simply to ask for acceptance. You must embrace the fact your view of reality is limited and thus broaden it to forego any hostilities with the return of the Olympians.”

           Those waiting for a deep revelation were adamantly struck down with this. The long pause that followed seemed to emphasize the disappointment.

          Almost reluctantly, Judge Fredrick broke the silence, “You are a god? That’s your argument?”

          “My argument is that I am standing before you!”

          “Mr. Bodan just finished a detailed explanation of how you are not; an explanation that follows the laws of mathematics, science and understanding.”

          “Laws governed by your perception, which is limited. Laws which hold true in your world, but not in realities beyond!”

          “Laws that we see working everyday in the universe, Mr. Zeus! If you are a god you must prove it!”

          “Because I am a god, I must NOT! If I prove my power you will become frightened and hostile. I’ve seen it countless times; your kind fears what it doesn’t understand.”

          “I cannot believe, Mr. Zeus, that you are a god who has been around for centuries and just recently decided to reveal yourself. If you have no proof to offer the court, regarding your divine nature; I rule in favor of the prosecution!” his gavel slamming home, “God is dead Mr. Zeus! Furthermore, given the dangerous, terrorist like attempts you implored to mislead the public I am choosing to detain you, pending a psychiatric evaluation! Bailiff put that man in custody!”

          “ENOUGH!!!” Zeus lashed as he slammed his hands down on his desk, shattering it, “I have shown all of you patience beyond that which I have ever shown!” He raised his right arm above his head, instantly spiking the humidity and static in the room, “I tried to do things by your mortals rules, and it has become clear to me your perspectives are too obscured!”

         Attention was focused on the small cloud which had formed above Zeus’s head. It seemed to be growing and darkening with every moment.

          Lightning flickered from Zeus’s white eyes, “If you will only believe what you experience, than I shall erase all shades of doubt from your minds! All that was in the time of the great heroes shall be again! All manner of beast will return, Mount Olympus will reconnect to the heavens and the Olympians shall return, with expectations of being honored!”

         The cloud had clearly defined itself as a thunder cloud, with its dark color, rolling electrical currents and thunderous rumble.

          “I Zeus, God of the thunderbolt, champion of Olympus decree it and so it shall be! And you Mr. Bodan, shall be the example of what happens when a god is crossed!” Zeus reached into the cloud and ripped out a crackling bolt of lightning. He hurled the beam of light into Mr. Bodan, leaving a charred, empty set of crocodile skin shoes, which once belonged to him.

           As the crowd began to scream, Zeus began to glow. With blinding intensity he shot through the cloud he created, exploding the roof of the court house. The ground continued to shake, after the lightning strike; those in the court house could not see the ongoing affects, but all over the world fissures were opening and from them, every manner of mythical beast was spilling forth. On land centaurs, minotaur, wood nymphs, hydras and the like crawled forth for the first time in centuries. In the oceans kraken, water nymphs, mer folk and other children of the earth poured into their former habitats. Islands of lands long forgotten rose from the ocean depths and in Greece mount Olympus grew towards the heavens; and when at last it stopped, a large coliseum was at its base; the training ground of the Olympian army.

          Of course none of the people in the court room were privy to these events and in the immediate moments following the scene they witnessed, relief tried to take residence. Perhaps it had all been one big special effect.

           It was not until the harpies came through the newly added skylight of the courthouse and tore at Judge Fredrick and Sci-volution’s legal team, that true panic struck and the severity of the situation took hold.

          Pan who had watched the entire event on her television and experienced the earth trembling, was unable to shut her jaw and come to terms with the level of disgust she was developing for her nagging little feeling.


By: Michael Wilshire