Tomb of Zeus (Atlantis)

Tomb of Zeus

Chapter
: 1

Northern Greenland

5,000 B.C.

Lord Zeus inhaled deeply, drawing in the essence of the green grass that covered the expansive plains. A cool breeze blew through his gray wavy hair that hung below his shoulders and he shuttered slightly from the chill of the wind. He rubbed his worn rugged hand over his muscular bicep in an attempt to wipe away the cold. In his right hand, he clutched a three foot long scepter made of crystal. Carved in the shape of a sword, its hollowed center contained an assembly of intricate shapes of iridium and precious stones that gave the scepter its power.

He re-gripped
the heavy crystalline object in his hand and held it across his body. Applying pressure to the handle, he began to feel warmth radiate from the crystal blade and penetrate his chest. Contented for a moment, he turned from the shoreline and focused his attention far out across the open plains.

Nearly a mile away, he watched a throng of slaves hard a work. He squinted slightly, pinpointing his exquisite vision on a man shouting orders to those around him. He nodded to himself in satisfaction
knowing his commands were being followed without question.

Turning around, he breathed in the
salty air of the ocean. He stepped from the edge of the grass and walked down the sloping sandy shore toward the water. As he approached, he watched a tall muscular man with long wavy red hair and beard, directing the operations from a single wooden dock.

Stretched out nearly a hundred feet across the water, more slaves rushed along the wooden stru
cture to prepare Lord Zeus’ boat for sail. Carrying bundles of grain, dried meat and rawhide flasks filled with water, the slaves carefully loaded the fifty-foot long craft, insuring its proper weight distribution and balance.

Zeus paused a
moment in the sand, taking in the elegance of his vessel. The long sleek craft was made of hewn oak planking, intricately interwoven to be strong and watertight. A set of ten oars jutted from each side and waited to be commanded by slaves.

As he watched the men labor to stock his boat, he noticed it listing slightly to one side.

“Poseidon, a word if you please,” Zeus shouted from the sand.

Hearing his
brother’s voice, Poseidon spun around to greet him. He smiled from the wooden dock, then shouted out to the hard-working slaves.

“Shore up that weight on the starboard side.
She’s listing slightly.”

Instantly, several slaves redistributed
some heavy bundles to the opposite side of the boat, righting the potential problem. Nodding in affirmation, he turned back to the waiting king.

“
Yes, my Lord?” Poseidon asked.

Zeus smiled contentedly at his brother’s efficiency.

“Nevermind, my brother. It seems you’ve read my mind once again,” Zeus responded, nodding in satisfaction.

Poseidon smiled as he neared.
Several steps later, he stood beside his much older brother.

“We’re almost loaded. You can be under way within the hour,” he informed.

“Very good. I’m hoping to make the tip of Nuuk by nightfall.”

“The prevailing
winds are westerly. They should help speed your travels.”

“Hmm yes, as well as calm seas. Perfect conditions for voyaging.”

The two stood quietly and watched the last of the supplies being shuffled into place on the King’s boat. Moments later, Poseidon spoke:

“Do you think
Idaeus has made much progress since your last visit?”

“It’s hard to say.
There’s so much to repair and the technology is so primitive.”

“Hmm, I see.”

Zeus heard the tone of Poseidon’s voice. It held uncertainty that worried him. Turning to Poseidon, he rested his hand on his shoulder.

“Have faith, my brother.
I’ve trained Idaeus well. If anyone can make the repairs, it is he. Soon we’ll be able to return home. I’m certain of that,” he said with a confident smile.

Poseidon nodded slightly, then returned his stare back to the working slaves, his face telegraphing his true feelings.

“Poseidon? What is this? I sense discontentment within you. Are you saddened by my words?”

Zeus shook his brother’s shoulder slightly, nudging a response from him.

“I like it here. I was hoping we could stay.”

“
STAY!
” Zeus shouted incredulously. “I don’t understand this. What do you mean by ‘stay’,” he persisted, now growing increasingly concerned.

Poseidon turned and stared directly into Zeus’ eyes. He thought for a moment, trying to choose the right words.

“Poseidon, I’m confused. You can’t possibly mean to stay here… and live in this place… with all these savages. Surely you must long for home. Surely you must miss your own kind. Surely I must have misread your intentions.”

“I’m sorry my brother, but I do n
ot want to leave. I like it here,” Poseidon replied in apprehensive tone.

Zeus pulled back and stared at Poseidon. He tried to read his face once more, hoping to see doubt or uncertainty. There was none. His brother was resolute in his words.

“But why? What could these people offer you? They’re savages… simple minded beings. Surely you cannot enjoy their company?”

“
Back home, we are common. We are of no great consequence. We are but tools of our society: no one any more important than the next. When we return home, our mission will be analyzed like the others before it: the data assimilated and stored for future use. We will then be given another mission and be required to collect more data. We live as mechanisms in a callous machine.”

He paused a moment, looked around and continued.

“
But here, we are important. We teach these savages and create great civilizations from them. Here, we rule this land and all those who occupy it. We are Gods!”

“Gods of Hel
l maybe… I’d rather be common in Heaven than a god of Hell,” Zeus responded.

He
rested his hand sympathetically on his brother’s shoulder and spoke.

“Poseidon, I understand your words. In some ways, I too feel a sense of importance here, but when I look around, I am always reminded that this is not my home and these are not
my people. We do not act the same or nor do we think the same as these people. If we are to feel fulfilled, we need to be with our own kind. Nothing else will suffice.”

Poseidon understood his older brother’s message. There w
ould be no challenging his logic. He nodded in simple understanding, then turned back to the men readying the boat.

“I believe the
y’re ready,” he said nonchalantly, redirecting the uncomfortable topic.

Zeus turned back to his waiting ship and smiled in understanding.

“Yes, I believe it is,” he said, allowing the previous topic to fade.

Zeus stepped forward toward his waiting craft. As he walked across the narrow wooden dock, all men came to attention and waited on his direction.

“Did you include the scrolls? Idaeus will need my calculations once his work is complete,” he asked Poseidon, standing close behind him.

“Yes, my king. They are stowed with
your navigation charts,” he responded obediently.

“Very well then… I’m off. If all goes as planned, I should be back in a week’s time,” Zeus responded, stepping down into his boat. Turning back to Poseidon, he added, “Continue your oversee of the pyramid. The layer of gold must not be flawed.”

“Yes, my king,” Poseidon replied.

As Zeus moved toward the pilot station at the rear of the boat, Poseidon shouted to the slaves onboard the ship.

“Watch over the king. Guard him with your lives.”

“Yes
Sir,” the slaves shouted back in monotone, their voices lacking passion.

Poseidon eyed them for a moment with disgust, then watched his brother get underway.
As the two rows of slaves pulled hard on their oars, Zeus held the tiller and directed the long boat out of the bay. Several minutes later, the fifty-foot craft rounded a bend in the shoreline and disappeared from sight.

Poseidon turned back to the work being carried on far out on the plains.
The great pyramid was nearly complete. All that remained was a final coating of gold. With slaves ordered to work around the clock, the task would be complete within the week. He looked up into space and pondered their future.

“Disappointing,” he said to himself quietly.

Looking back across the plains, he headed in the direction of the pyramid, a mile away.

----- ----- ----- -----

Cephius stood several yards away from the great pyramid and watched the throngs of slaves muscle large vats of molten gold in place for the pouring. Shouting orders and pointing, he clutched his leather whip for those who moved too slowly.

Moving quickly before the gold cooled, the slaves readied the large metal contain
ers. Lined up side by side, the six foot tall, five foot in diameter vats were each manned by dozens of men. All eyes were now on Cephius. He raised his hand above his head and with great exaggeration, dropped it quickly.

“
POUR
!” he shouted.

Slowly, carefully, the dozens of men clutched the heavy rungs that jutted from the large metal containers and
began to pour the molten metal down over the blocks that formed the pyramid. As it rushed from the vats and down over the structure, the shiny liquid metal clung to the stone, coating its outside surface, leaving a thin layer attached as the excess continued its way down further. Block by block the molten liquid continued on its downward path until the last of its bulk thinned to a slow trickle that finally came to a rest in a small pool, fifty feet below.

Cephius stood over the freshly poured gold and admired its brilliance.

“Glorious,” he said aloud to no one in particular.

Looking back to
the slaves, he shouted, “Quickly, erect the supports. I want the next pore ready within the hour.”

“
Yes Sir,” came voices from the crowd of workers.

Cephius watched the men for a moment, raised his whip high above his head and snapped it forward. The tattered ends of leather seared across a slave
’s shoulder and chest as he stood in place far too long for Cephius’ patience. Instantly, the man howled out a cry of pain and fell to the ground. All eyes darted to the man writhing in agony and quickly sprang to action. Cephius smiled in satisfaction as the men scurried from his wrath.

Looking down at the injured slave, he raised his whip high above his head once more. With
a quick flip of his wrist, he snapped the whip with pinpoint accuracy sounding out a crack just inches from the slave. Understanding the message, he leapt to his feet and darted off after his comrades.

“Mindless dogs,” Cephius said to himself in disgust
.

“Cephius!”
A voice shouted from behind.

Cephius spun on his heels, startled by the loud angry tone.

“Yes sir,” he shouted back obediently.

He stood at attention and waited for Poseidon to near.

“Cephius, these are not trees, rocks or lifeless forms. These are human beings,” Poseidon said sharply.

“Yes sir,”
Cephius responded obediently.

“
Treat them decently,” Poseidon sai, simply.

“But S
ir, they
are
mere slaves,” he defended.

“
…that are helping us to accomplish our mission. Manage them firmly, but treat them with respect.”

“
Yes Sir,” Cephius responded grudgingly.

Poseidon examined the worked just completed. He nodded in approval, the
n said, “Lord Zeus will be pleased. This will be completed by his return?” he asked, more rhetorical than a question.

“Yes
Sir. I estimate a week if I can keep these lazy dogs focused.”

Poseidon glared at Cephius momentarily, insuring his subordinate understood his disapproval. Cephius averted his eyes. With his subtle point mad
e, Poseidon continued:

“Lord Zeus will be anticipating the pyramid’s complet
ion upon his return. If you find the men falling behind schedule, concentrate their efforts on polishing the vertical steps first. With those surfaces complete, we should be able to reach a signal strength of ninety percent, more than enough to reach the upper atmosphere.”

“
How long before the next ship arrives?”

“
Lord Zeus believes they could be here in one week. Timing is critical. The beacon must be finished before then,” Poseidon responded.