City of gods - Hellenica (24 page)

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Gunnar has a plan for us,” Tommy whispered in return. “Follow me.”

They turned to leave, and bypassed the Spartan guards; they had eight minutes before the light turned on again. They walked past the Wildman and he was awake. He sniffed them and started yelling, but still none of the Spartan guards noticed.

They were about to leave Tartarus when they ran into a solid being who seemed to materialize out of thin air. At first Tommy thought it was Heracles, but when he saw the glowing red eyes, he knew it to be Kayana’s teacher, Praetor Mantus.

“The innocent don’t break out of prison at their first chance,” said Praetor Mantus.

“The
unjustly
imprisoned will always break out,” said Kayana. “You know this to be true.”

Kayana pushed Tommy aside and stood in front of Praetor Mantus.

“I don’t like you, Praetor, but I know you aren’t a fool,” said Kayana. “You know as well as I do that we aren’t guilty of any wrongdoing. And you know that the only thing that will keep this Academy from destruction is us.”

Praetor Mantus floated back and forth, gliding on air and contemplating what Kayana had said. His dark robe swayed outward and seemed as if it would swallow them both, and his fiercely glowing eyes suggested that he could turn them to dust if he so chose. He came in close to examine them, and then exhaled his icy-cold breath against Tommy’s helmet.

“If you should reach the surface, keep your suit on, Alderon,” said Praetor Mantus. “Your intentions are noble, but you can still cause plagues.”

Tommy nodded and then Praetor Mantus got out of the way and pointed to the exit.

“You’re both expelled,” he said. “Now go. Leave this place before they turn on the lights.”

“Expelled?” asked Tommy. “We cannot be …”

Tears began to well up in Tommy’s eyes, but Kayana dug her uncovered fingers into his left glove and grabbed hold of his bare hand. The emotion seemed to fall from him, and his tears dried up.

“It’s fine,” said Kayana.

“Now go!” screamed Praetor Mantus.

Both Tommy and Kayana ran.

/***/

They bounded up the stairs, quickly but quietly. The Spartan guards had been called to alert and they were amassing everywhere. The guards had brought weapons too; guns and lances that would certainly cut through Tommy’s suit.

Though he was still thinking of Praetor Mantus’s expulsion, the adrenaline was kicking in and all he wanted to do was get to Gunnar’s meeting point. They tiptoed through the stairs quietly, barely grazing the guards. Kayana took the lead and gracefully jumped from step to step, holding Tommy back when a mass of guards shuffled past. Tommy was glad to see that Kayana had put her gloves back on; he just wanted to leave quietly and didn’t want anyone to get hurt.

Tommy got to the first floor and opened the door to the main courtyard. They were a hundred meters from their goal; Tommy had set Gunnar’s meeting point on his forearm’s monitor. Kayana held him back again; he heard the din of another mass of Spartans between them and the goal. Tommy and Kayana were plotting their path when the generator whirred and the lights turned on, all at once.

There were a hundred Spartan mercenaries in the room, as well as Heracles, Verminus, and Charon.  After a moment of confusion, the Spartans turned their weapons on Tommy, and Heracles walked up to him. He stood above Tommy, nearly twice his height and three times his breadth.

“Where’s Kayana, Tommy?” asked Heracles.

“What?” asked Tommy.

“Where’s Kayana?”

Tommy looked around and she was gone.
The lights turned on and she disappeared into the shadows,
thought Tommy.

“Follow me,” whispered Kayana.

“Where?” he whispered, under his breath.

“Just follow me.”

Heracles came closer to Tommy, and Tommy backed away.

“Tommy, we have to know what’s been happening,” said Heracles.

“Do as he says, Thomas, and we can work this all out,” said Verminus in a calm voice.

“I’ve been … expelled,” said Tommy.

“What?” asked Verminus.

“We’ve all been expelled,” said Kayana, appearing from his shadow. “Now leave us be.”

Kayana took her gloves off and put her hands out; she then disappeared again.

“Leave us be,” she said, cloaked in invisibility. “Clear a path for Tommy to rejoin his comrades or I’ll start killing at random, touching necks until the life is drained from all of you.”

Heracles thought for a moment, and then smiled.

“Stand down, Spartans,” he said. “Do as she says.”

The Spartans cleared a path towards Gunnar, Saoirse and Kross. They were standing by the elevator. Tommy walked towards Gunnar, rejoined them, and turned around. Heracles looked at Gunnar and spoke.

“You have nowhere to go,” said Heracles.

“Precisely,” said Gunnar.

Gunnar motioned for his team to go inside. After the team was in, Gunnar took a weapon out from his back pocket. He pressed the button and the elevator door began to close. He opened up the elevator’s control board and pressed a few buttons.

“It’s on manual override right now,” whispered Gunnar. “They can’t stop us.”

“You won’t get far!” yelled a voice as the door shut.

Tommy wanted to go back to the Academy and talk; he still felt the situation could be resolved if they just explained everything. But it was too late; the elevator was moving upwards and they were headed towards the surface.

The ride was bumpy, but during a lull Gunnar addressed the group.

“We had no choice but to leave this place,” said Gunnar. “And after we reach Hellenica, we must leave its walls and hide.”

“Hide where?” asked Tommy.

“I don’t know,” said Gunnar, “but it must be somewhere deep within the conurbation. Whoever has infected the Academy knows our intentions now, and will spare no expense in hunting us.”

PART III

DAGON AND THE MERMAID

THE TRIAL

Saoirse looked out the window from their hiding place in the Yōkai district. The room was filthy and sparse, with a table, four chairs, a mattress that smelled of sweat, and not much else. They were on the seventh floor of a muggy, dilapidated tenement, the third of seven on that block alone.
They’ll find us here,
she thought,
but not soon.

Tommy and Gunnar were standing over the dirty table, poring over the information that Bes had sent them. Bes knew little more than they did, so he sent them all that he knew about the conurbation, and all he knew about the possible whereabouts and motives of the Mermaid. Kayana isolated herself into the corner to meditate, and when Gunnar asked her to help them she disagreed.

“What do I have to do with a Mermaid?” she said. “Why should I care about saving an Academy which has spurned us out?”

“You said yourself you want to defeat the demons,” said Gunnar.

“I can do this without solving this little mystery,” said Kayana.

“No you can’t,” said Gunnar. “You might clear one Spartan’s head of demons, perhaps two. But sooner or later they’ll get you. You can win a battle, but to win the war we need to know the root of our problems.”

Kayana thought for a moment and then let her eyes turn white. She stared back at the corner and resumed her meditation.

“That’s her way of agreeing with you,” said Tommy.

“Good,” said Gunnar. “Now, the Mermaid is the root of this struggle. She told the King Basilisk to attack us; we need to find her, and find out
why
. She may not be our enemy, but she’s the key to understanding why the demons have invaded the Academy.”

Gunnar thought for a moment, and then looked at Saoirse.

“What do you know of Mermaids?” he asked. “Anything, anything at all?”

“Every once in a while one came to Elysia,” said Saoirse. “There’s more than one of them, so we have to find out which one spoke to the King Basilisk.”

“True,” said Gunnar. “What else?”

“They’re charming,” said Saoirse. “They have their own language; the average mortal can kind of understand it, but kind of not. It brings a mystique and an intimacy to whomever they speak with.”

“Could one of them want to destroy us?” asked Gunnar. “Or want to destroy anything?”

“No,” said Saoirse, “they’re not built for that.”

Gunnar studied the sheets Bes sent, and then brought out an article.

“Here,” he said, pointing to a clipping, “Bes told me to look at this. Two gods, Dagon and Poseidon, are currently at war with each other over a clutch of Mermaids found in a disputed territory; I don’t know anything about it, but it looks promising. I’ll stay here and study the conurbation; Saoirse, you need to investigate it.”

“Me?” asked Saoirse.

“Yes,” said Gunnar. “Hellenica has sent Spartans to look for us, and Tommy, myself and Kayana stick out too much. But if you dye your hair and leave your hyaena with us, you’ll look like just another girl from Elysia.”

“All right,” said Saoirse, “but you’re sending me to a
war
? I’m not suited for bloodshed—”

“Not
that
kind of war,” said Gunnar with a laugh. “Dagon and Poseidon are blood enemies to be sure, but their battlefield in this matter takes a different shape.”

Gunnar put an article in front of Saoirse. It spoke of Dagon, the god of the docks, and Poseidon, the god of the ocean. Their latest skirmish was indeed over a clutch of Mermaids, but their war wasn’t with weapons. They had been waging an ongoing war
in court.

/***/

Saoirse sat in the courtroom with dyed black hair, feeling like a new woman. For good measure she had tinted her skin pale and wore thick glasses that their Yōkai landlord had given her, but she still felt a bit naked without her friends and her hyaena. As she listened to Dagon’s counsel speak, she realized that this was the first time in her life that she’d ever been alone.

Dagon, Babylonian god of the docks, dressed in a soft-shouldered suit to lessen the impact of his enormous height. He had green scales, a small bony fin that ran over the top of his head like a Mohawk, and the face of a water lizard. His enormous frame and scaly appearance reminded Saoirse of a cross between Heracles and Sobek, but Dagon was clearly doing everything he could to look like a normal member of society. His tailored suit and good posture made him less of a monster and more of a man, and he smiled quite a bit, making him look almost friendly. He had an army of lawyers whispering into his ear at every moment, and no matter what they said he grinned and nodded his head in quiet agreement. On the other side of the aisle sat but a single court-appointed lawyer; Poseidon was not even there.  

Dagon’s head lawyer, a woman named Omarosa, was the first to present her closing argument. She had the tanned skin and lean frame of a Babylonian dock-worker, but she was dressed professionally in a grey business suit, wire-rimmed glasses and thin black hair pulled up into a tight bun. Saoirse leaned in to listen as Dagon’s counsel faced the judge.

“Your Honor,” said Omarosa, “I would first like to reiterate my client’s
absolute commitment and reverence
to the law of the conurbation. First and foremost, my client Dagon is present, whereas the defendant Poseidon has chosen
not to attend
after no less than
twenty-seven
court orders.

“But my client has more than a respect for the law on his side. He has the best interest of the conurbation at heart. His fisheries already provide 15 percent of the conurbation’s economy, he’s built twelve schools, and has an all-inclusive open-border policy that allows anyone citizenship in his district, regardless of their creed. And yes, this citizenship extends to
Mermaids
when they voluntarily swim into his waters to escape Poseidon’s persecution.

“This progressive, open policy has made my client’s district the jewel of our megacity. Crime in my client’s district is the second lowest in the conurbation, trailing only Hellenica! And in regards to employment, my client’s district is number one by far. If someone in the conurbation wants a job, my client takes it upon himself to
personally guarantee
that they’ll find one if they migrate to his district. This promise is good even if the migrant is old, infirm or perhaps
even a Mermaid
.

“My client has signed every document you’ve asked him to sign, and made every payment necessary. You’ve asked my client more, and he’s given you more; more tax revenue, more jobs, and more openness. And now only one thing stands in the way of his principles: a single god named Poseidon, a god who doesn’t even bother to show up to defend his case. This is a god who mocks progress, who disdains the conurbation, who refutes the very legitimacy of
this court
with his repeated absence!”

Omarosa looked over at the lone public defender’s desk on the other end of the aisle.

“But if he were here, I would ascertain that all Poseidon would say would be
No
.
No
to progress,
no
to freedom, and
no
to allowing his Mermaids to move wherever they wish.
No
to the conurbation whenever they need food, and
no
to showing up to this court to defend whatever principles he has.

“It’s up to this court to decide what we want for our society, for our children. Do we want a more open economy, more schools and easier migration? Or do we want to say
no
, just because?

“The choice is clear, and we ask this court to allow Councilman Dagon’s proposed
and completely transparent
request to allow the refugee Mermaids to stay in his district. Don’t say
no
. Say
yes
.”

Omarosa sat down and whispered into Dagon’s ear, and Dagon smiled once more. The sharp teeth behind his scaled lips were perfectly white.

Poseidon’s public defender, an overweight man named Geno Kardel, stood up, already sweating as he got out of his chair. He breathed heavily a few times, leaned against the chair, and then faced the judge.

“Your Honor,” said Counselor Kardel, his face looking like a grey ham, “I don’t apologize for my client’s absence, but I do offer an explanation. As I’ve said before, he lives outside of the conurbation’s jurisdiction. This has been documented time and time again; Poseidon lives in the open ocean and belongs to no one but himself. If
you
were sent a fabricated traffic ticket from a country not your own, would you honor it? Would you show up at the court that had issued it? No you wouldn’t, for doing so would lend the ticket legitimacy.

“This is Poseidon’s viewpoint. He asks for no more territory and doesn’t expand, asks for no help and receives none; all he asks is to be left alone, to leave his oceans untouched and fertile. He has never asked for anything more, and never will.

“Dagon’s counsel tells a tale of the openness, but what of the openness of Poseidon? Anyone is free to come and go on Poseidon’s ocean, provided they don’t claim any sea for themselves. Travel to Dagon’s docks and you’re expected to pay a 40 percent tax on everything you own before you can even rent an apartment! And true, any creed can live in Dagon’s district, provided they don’t pray to one of his many enemies. Poseidon allows all; he even gives safe passage to Dagon’s ships on a regular basis.

“It just so happened that one of these ships wasn’t just looking for fish one day; they were looking for Mermaids—”

“Objection!” yelled Omarosa. “My client isn’t on trial here, especially not with hearsay.”

“Sustained,” said the judge. “Make your point without accusations, Counselor.”

“Then Dagon’s counsel fails to mention,” said Counselor Kardel, “that he sent his fishermen to Poseidon’s waters to take a clutch of Mermaids by force.”

“Objection!” yelled Omarosa again. “These Mermaids
escaped
to our waters. This is proven.”

“Sustained,” said the judge. “You’re on thin ice, Counselor Kardel.”

“Understood,” said Poseidon’s lawyer. He drank a glass of water, and then wheezed a bit to catch his breath. “Then although we don’t believe that the Mermaids fled Poseidon’s grasp, we do understand that the court believes this. All we ask is that Councilman Dagon make good on his policy of openness, and drop the Mermaids into the open water, under a neutral third party’s observance. Wherever they choose to swim, Poseidon will accept as their final home.”

The court became quiet as the judge took the weight of deciding what to do.

“Would Dagon’s counsel accept this proposal?” asked the judge.

Dagon and his lawyers commiserated for a moment, and then Omarosa spoke.

“We do not accept,” said Omarosa. “For all we know, Poseidon could fill the water with sharks.”

“They don’t accept, Counselor Kardel,” said the judge.

“My client’s history would not suggest he would send
sharks
,” said Poseidon’s lawyer with a laugh. “That’s ridiculous. And we don’t understand why we can’t let the Mermaids decide for themselves, with an independent arbiter.”

“Will Dagon’s counsel address the query?” asked the judge.

“Poseidon owns the ocean,” said Omarosa. “As soon as we drop the Mermaids in there, if not sharks, he could send currents to sweep them down into his depths, or anything else. We have an independent arbiter in this court in
you
, Judge, and we will respect your decision.”

“Then that’s it,” said the judge. “I’ll decide in one hour’s time.”

/***/

Saoirse figured the verdict from the look on Dagon’s face as he exited the courtroom. Reporters swarmed him and though his counsel tried to lead him away, Dagon stopped and spoke to the press.

“Justice has been served today,” said Dagon. “Some Mermaids escaped the clutches of Poseidon and I gave them safe refuge, nothing more, and the court saw to respect their rights as free beings able to go where they wish. This isn’t just a victory for me, but for the conurbation. Our society is falling apart, but
not my district
. Our whole world is factionalizing, but
not my district
. Crime and unemployment are on the rise, but come to
my district
and I’ll give you a job and make sure no one messes with you while you’re doing it. Good day, and I’ll be at the docks!”

Dagon and his entourage left in a flurry to the waiting car at the bottom of the stairs. The reporters clamored for one more soundbite, but his car sped off and soon everyone began to disappear. Saoirse was about to walk away when she heard a craggly voice yell at her.

“I know who you are!” said the voice. “You’re undercover.”

She looked behind her and saw an incredibly old man, perhaps ninety. She didn’t recognize him.
Am I that easy to spot?
she thought.
Could he be a Spartan guard under disguise?