City of gods - Hellenica (29 page)

“This guy Horatius was a Roman soldier,” said Dagon. “One day, this rival king from Etrusca sends an army to Rome, begins attacking the outskirts of the city. Everyone goes into a panic and tries to flee into the walled portion of the city, just across the Tiber River. Problem is, there’s only one bridge. Cut the bridge, you screw the people in the countryside fleeing inwards; keep the bridge, and the rival king is gonna send his soldiers too, and the walled city becomes useless.

“So three guys take it upon themselves to sit at the front of the bridge and let any Roman country bumpkin by, but fight off any Etruscan soldiers they see. Just three of ‘em, defending this bridge. Two of them are big time commanders from noble families, and Horatius is the third. Horatius wasn’t famous, wasn’t from a big family; he was this cocky little one-eyed soldier who would give anything for Rome.

“So the Roman peasants go by, and then some Etruscan soldiers come to fight, and Horatius and company fight them off. Then some more Roman peasants and a few fleeing Roman military guys who were too scared to fight. Then some more Etruscans, and more Etruscans, and more and more. And these three guys are holding the bridge!

“This Horatius is a scrappy little fellow, so when he sees that he’s outnumbered, he gives a little ground and fights, and then gives a little more ground. He then tells the Romans behind him to destroy the bridge. They don’t want to do it, because it’ll surely kill him, but he yells at them to just do what he says. They destroy the bridge, and Horatius ends up in the water. Rome is safe, but Horatius’s armor is so heavy that he drowns.”

Gunnar tried not to show any reaction; he’d heard many different versions of that story with many different endings. Sometimes Horatius lived and sometimes he died, but he always saved Rome.

“Horatius is a hero,” said Dagon. “Is he not?”

Dagon hit Tommy in the back of his suit, shoving his face against his helmet shield.

“Simple question; do you think Horatius is a hero?” asked Dagon. “Someone answer me or I’ll hit this boy again.”

Dagon raised his hand once more and Gunnar stopped him.

“Stop it, Dagon,” said Gunnar. “Yes, I believe Horatius is a hero. I’ve always believed that.”

“Good answer,” said Dagon. “I’ve spied on the Academy quite a bit, and this Horatius reminds me of someone in your class; what’s his name?”

Gunnar stared back at Dagon angrily, and Dagon grinned patronizingly in return.

“Oh yeah!” said Dagon in a mocking tone. “Rowan! That’s who Horatius is like! Rowan—you must like him, right? You must think Rowan’s a hero, right?”

Gunnar was once again silent.

“Wrong,” said Dagon. “What I know of your Rowan is that he’s an idiot, and what I know of Horatius is that he never existed. They made him up so they can tell stories that convince your kind to go out and defend the bridge while the cowards live another day. You want to be a hero and drown in your armor?”

Dagon clinked the Amazon armor on Gunnar’s chest.

“They’ll sing songs about you,” said Dagon in a mocking voice. “Just say the word and I’ll throw you in the water. You’ll die, but who knows, they might make you the next Horatius.”

Dagon let the silence linger a bit.

“No takers?” said Dagon. “All right.”

Dagon snapped his fingers and his guards brought him a chair and a remote control device with a grid of buttons. The remote control was thick and waterproof, and Gunnar knew what it was for. It could pull any one of them backwards until they hung above the tank, and then drop them into the water whenever Dagon wished. The green god caressed his scaly fingers over the device and smiled at it as a father would look at his newborn child. Dagon then sat down in the chair and stared at the Horsemen.

“My society is successful because I do away with all that stuff of nobility and honor,” said Dagon. “You work for me, I pay you. No honor, no medals; I give you
money
, and that money buys you a place in my district. Use the money for a house, a business, a family, whatever you want. Don’t worry about defending the bridge; we’ll pay someone else to do that. That’s my philosophy.

“And that’s my proposal to you four Horsemen: work for me and I’ll not only let you live, I’ll pay you, and pay you well. Vehicles, technology, houses, whatever you want. I’ll have you do some crazy things, but I won’t ask you to jump off a bridge in full armor. That’s my offer; no nobility, just a job and respect.”

Kayana started to laugh.

“Is something funny?” said Dagon, smiling. “Tell me! I want to laugh too.”

“You speak of giving us
respect
,” said Kayana, “and yet you negotiate with us in front of a crocodile tank.”

Dagon frowned, and then laughed again.

“It’s true,” he said. “That’s the other half of my style. You work for me and I pay you;
disobey me and I punish you
. It’s that simple, and I’ll be the first to admit I’m not a paragon of virtue. But look around you, little girl; our world’s in pieces, and everyone’s out for themselves. This world needs someone tough like me, someone who’s willing to do what it takes to get everyone in line. A few generations from now, the conurbation won’t need a strong man like myself. But at this stage of history, if you want to get order, you’ve got to get your hands dirty.

“So yeah, that’s it, Horsemen, a straight-up proposal. Work for me and I’ll make it worth your while; you won’t be fighting for country, honor or any of that nonsense. You’ll be fighting for the mansion I’ll provide each of you, and the twenty or so servants that’ll do everything you say. On the other hand, say
no
, and you’re going in the tank.”

The group was quiet and Kayana snapped back from a moment of white-eyed meditation.

“So what’ll it be, little girl?” asked Dagon. “You havin’ visions of a world under me? Half of it under
you
perhaps?”

“My vision was indeed of your world,” said Kayana, “but as your world will be in the future: crumbled and broken.”

“Interesting,” said Dagon. “My district looks pretty strong now if you ask me.”

“It’s not strong now,” said Kayana. “It runs on bribery and fear, little else.”

“They say the best leaders are both feared and loved,” said Dagon. “And if a leader has to choose one, choose fear.”

“That’s good advice for battle or for fleeting endeavors,” said Kayana, “but not for building a
society
. Your people fear you, but they don’t
respect
you. A society needs respect and pride to move forward. People can’t look back at their founder from a century ago and think
this man was a petty thug who fed his enemies to crocodiles.
You fill your constituents with fear, and when you’re gone that fear will turn to shame and your society will collapse.”

“Your flaw lies in your conception of me, little girl,” said Dagon, getting angry. “I’m not just a leader; I’m a god. My society won’t collapse after I’m gone, because I
won’t be gone
; I’ll live on and on. Am I wrong about that?”

“You’re wrong about two things,” said Kayana. “The first thing wrong is the idea that you’ll
live on
. I had a vision about your life and see you dying a year from now, in your sleep. They’ll find you cowed in fear and soiled. The word will get out about this and
that’s
how they’ll remember you: the god who soiled himself before he died. You’re also wrong about my title; I’m not a little girl. To the world I’m Kayana, and to you I’m
Death
, and you’ll address me as nothing else.”

Dagon got up, breathed deeply and then smiled. He snapped his fingers and the guards gave him a glove. Dagon hovered over Kayana, nearly four times her size, and then smacked her with the back of his gloved hand.

“Perhaps it’s time to get my hands dirty,” said Dagon. “I’m not talking to you now,
little girl
; I’m talking to your friends. Watch what happens to those who don’t work for me.”

Dagon sat back in his chair and took his remote control device out. He punched some buttons into the device and Kayana’s chains lifted her up until she dangled above the tank. The crocodiles all made a frenzy around the surface, but still, Kayana showed no fear.

“A year from now,” she said. “In your sleep.”

Dagon mashed another button, the chains loosened, and Kayana went crashing down into the water. Both Tommy and Saoirse yelled and struggled against their constraints, but it was no use; Kayana was on her own. The crocodiles thrashed around Kayana and one of them dragged her under the water. The creature had clamped around her armor and was shaking her about furiously. He brought her into a death spin, and the creatures above jockeyed for territory.

The water stopped roiling and Saoirse cried out once more. The crocodiles on top stopped their frenzy and disbanded. After a minute, Kayana floated to the top, her chain wrapped around the floating body of the attacking crocodile. The creature was now dead and bloated from her touch.

“This little girl is hard to kill,” said Dagon with a smile.

Kayana spit water out of her mouth. She was breathing heavily.

“But not impossible,” said Dagon.

Dagon pressed another button and Kayana’s chain tightened up and she went flying upwards until she slammed into the ceiling. He dropped her back down into the tank and she sunk to the bottom immediately; her arms were too tightly bound to tread water, and her armor was too heavy to float.

“I need you, but I don’t need you that much,” said Dagon. “If you aren’t loyal to me, I’ll use you to add to my legend; I’ll be the god who fed the Four Horsemen to his crocodiles. So while your friend drowns, realize that you’re going in next. You have until she stops moving to decide; I honestly hope you refuse my offer. Killing you all will just be less risk for me.”

Kayana was thrashing about under the water, and Gunnar’s mind raced desperately as he tried to find ways to save her. Was there any way to grab a guard hostage? To break these chains? To get into the tank?
There are no options
, thought Gunnar,
and there is no time
.

“We yield!” said Gunnar. “We yield; just let her go.”

Dagon thought about it, smiled, and then shook his head and pointed at Kayana.

“I’ll accept your surrender, but not hers.”

“We yield! Now bring her up!”

“Sorry, Horseman, that girl will kill me first chance she gets. Just give her a few minutes, and then we’ll talk.”

Kayana had stopped thrashing now. She opened her eyes; they were white, and they were staring right at Tommy through the side of the tank. Tommy whispered something to Saoirse, and she spoke.

“
Im-kōtep, kōtep-ma
,” said Saoirse.

“What’s she saying?” asked Dagon.

“
Im-kōtep, kōtep-ma
,” said Saoirse, looking at the crocodiles.

“Oh,” said Dagon, “you’re talking the crocodile’s language. That’s your skill
, talking to the animals
, got it. Well I’ve got news for you, crocodiles don’t listen to
anyone.
”

The crocodiles disappeared under the water, and soon brought up both Kayana and her chains. They pushed her over the edge of the pool and she slammed to the ground, coughing and spitting out water. The crocodiles began snapping their jaws in unison, and then made high-pitched barking sounds with their throats. Dagon fumbled for his remote control, and was about to reel Kayana to the ceiling again, but he paused and put the device down before walking up to Kayana and kneeling in front of her.

“How did you do that?” asked Dagon.

No one said a word. Dagon took out a gun from his pocket and pointed it at Kayana’s head.

“How did you do that?”

“The crocodiles don’t listen to anyone,” said Tommy, “except for me. I have power over all the ugly things, things of the deep, things with fangs and poison; basically about half the creatures in this aquarium. Saoirse told them who I was, and the crocodiles obeyed. Hear that sound they’re making? They’re letting your aquarium know who I am.”

Dagon smiled and then slammed his fist into his remote control. There was silence, and then a strange sound of the creatures on floors above erupting in various noises.

“You guys win this round,” he said, “but I can’t just shoot you and be done with it. I’ve got to do something epic now, something that will make my legend stronger, and send a message to both Hellenica and the Amazons.”

Dagon thought a bit, and then smiled.

“I’ve got one creature that doesn’t listen to anyone, and he won’t be killed by your touch.”

Dagon stopped smiling, and then looked at his guards.
I know where he’s going to take us,
thought Gunnar,
and it’s the perfect place to deliver the bomb. Perhaps too perfect; I don’t know if we’ll be able to get out alive.

“Bring them upstairs,” said Dagon. “Feed them to the Megalodon.”

/***/

The air was cold by the tank, and the giant shark was nowhere to be seen.