When the Gods Aren't Gods: Book Two of The Theogony (17 page)

“The sword is beautiful,”
Calvin said, “but I don’t think the helmet will fit under a combat helmet. Also, I’m not sure that either of your weapons are what I’d call combat-ready, as they are hundreds of years old.”

“Not to worry,”
Father Zuhlsdorf replied, “the pope had Vatican craftsman re-forge them for strength, and then he re-blessed them. They are as ready as any of the weapons that your soldiers carry, plus they are blessed by the pope.” He paused and reached around the corner of the office door to retrieve another sword that he had left propped up against the wall. “Besides, if one of them breaks, I always have this.” He held out the sword to Calvin.

“What is it?” Calvin
asked.

“It’s Durandal,”
Father Zuhlsdorf replied with a touch of awe. “It is said to have belonged to Count Roland, who was the paladin of Charlemagne. People believe that this sword has a tooth of St. Peter, a hair of St. Denis, the blood of Saint Basil
,
 
and a piece of the raiment of the Blessed Virgin Mary in its hilt. The legend says that it was given to Charlemagne by an angel and is supposed to be the sharpest sword ever made, as well as indestructible. I think I am ready for anything that we might find down there.”

“
Having a named sword is certainly cool,” Calvin said, “regardless of whether any of its story is actually true. Are you any good with them?”

“I’ve received the same downloads as the soldiers did
, and I’ve been sparring with them,” the priest replied. “I haven’t been able to beat Yokaze or Night yet, but I’ve been able to beat everyone else at least once.”

“Let me know when you beat Yokaze,” Calvin said, “and I’ll ask Skipper Griffin if I can borrow you to be my new weapons instructor. He’s damn...I mean, he’s darned good.”

Father Zuhlsdorf smiled. “Thanks, but I’ve heard it before. Especially working out with the members of the platoon. They are a...colorful...group in manner, as well as in expression. I still would like to go to the planet.”

“
Have you heard what we are facing?” Calvin asked.

“Yes, I have,”
the priest answered. “Quetzalcoatl, who purports itself to be a god. It is not, of course, which is one of the reasons I feel I must accompany you. My sword was last used during the crusades, which were meant to liberate the sacred city of Jerusalem. As I understand it, you intend to liberate this planet from the influence of a false god. I believe that the reason both the sword and I are here is to help with the accomplishment of this goal.”

“OK, you’ve convinced me to take you,”
Calvin said, “assuming that Skipper Griffin will allow it. You work for her, not me, so I need her permission. The only other problem that I see is that the beliefs of some of the members of my platoon are not completely in line with your beliefs or the beliefs of the church. I can’t take you if that is going to be an issue that divides the team. In combat, we have to be a single unit where everyone watches everyone else’s back. Can you do this?”

“Of course,”
the chaplain replied. “I have always enjoyed the lively discussion of beliefs, but do not hold someone to be less worthy just because they believe differently than I do. We are all God’s children, after all. As far as talking to Captain Griffin goes, I already spoke to her and secured her permission to go, so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

“It seems like you already have all of your bases covered,”
Calvin said. He stood up and offered his hand. “Welcome to the team,” he said.

Fat
her Zuhlsdorf shook the platoon commander’s hand, being very careful not to drop the burden in his other hand. “Thank you,” he said. “I am very happy to be a part of it.”

Squad Bay, TSS
Vella Gulf
, Keppler-22 ‘b’, August 12, 2020

“
This is our first mission,” said Bob as he watched the Terrans preparing weapons, stowing their gear in rucksacks and clipping things onto harnesses. “Doug and I are curious. What equipment should we bring? Do we really need everything that we trained with?”

“I’d bring anything that you thought you might need, plus all of the things that you thought you probably won’t need, and then
throw in all of the stuff that you’re
sure
you won’t need,” replied Mr. Jones, their fire team leader. The former CIA operative still hadn’t learned the lizards’ expressions yet, but seeing what he guessed was a puzzled expression on Bob’s face, he added, “Any equipment you leave on the ship is pretty damn worthless to you, isn’t it?”

“Well, yes it is,” said Bob, “but that’s a lot of stuff to have to bring if you’re not going to use it. It is hard for Doug and
me to carry all of it.”

Mr. Jones
raised an eyebrow skeptically. “If you leave anything behind, you are sure to need it,” he said. “The best way to be sure that you won’t need it is to bring it.”

“I fail to see the logic in that statement,” noted Doug.

“Don’t worry about it,” replied Mr. Jones. “Bring everything you can carry without it affecting your ability to move quickly and silently. Once you’ve been on a few missions, you can decide what things you need to have, and what you can make do without.”

Bob pulled out a bladed weapon
from a drawer. “You’ll definitely want to bring that,” noted Mr. Jones. “Can I see it?” Bob handed it to his fire team leader.

Mr. Jones
took it and looked at it critically. In form, it was similar to many of the swamp hatchets and tomahawks he had seen. It was about a foot and a half long, although the grip was modified to fit the therapods’ hands. The blade on top was in the shape of a large, sideways letter “J,” trailing to a thick, wickedly sharp point on the back. Unlike most tomahawks, there was an edge across the top of the weapon that ran from the head of it all the way back to the point.

“Interesting,” noted Mr. Jones. “Our tomahawks normally don’t have an edge across the top like that. What is it for?”

“Cracking open the shell pods of a crustacean on our home world,” replied Bob. “They’re very tasty.”

Doug looked up. “It’s also good for defending yourself from a jusssole, which is a snake-like creature of the swamp,” he added. “The creature’s mouth can open up big enough to get the entire head of the weapon into it.
Once you get the jusssole to try to swallow it, the user then drives the point on the back of the axe into a tree or the ground, effectively pinning the snake in place. Then you use a second blade to cut its head off while it flips around.”

“Yes,” agreed Bob. “They’re very tasty
too. You just have to watch out for their fangs. They’re extremely poisonous.”

“Do you carry a bladed weapon?” asked Doug.

“Yeah, I do,” replied Mr. Jones, pulling out a knife that was almost long enough to be considered a short sword. The blade alone was over 12 inches in length and almost two inches wide, with a curved point at the end. The knife had an edge cut from both sides at the top and a cross-guard to protect his hand. “If it was good enough for Colonel Bowie,” he continued, “it’s good enough for me. It’s big enough to get the attention of anything I poke with it, as well as to provide a little bit of defense, if needed.”

“I’ll just stick with my kris,
mon,” noted Sergeant Margaret ‘Witch’ Andrews, drawing the wavy blade from its sheath. “The blade has 13 waves in it for good luck,” the Jamaican woman continued. “Usually, most people start running, just by me pulling it out.” She looked at it and smiled. “The blade has also been infused with poison, so most cuts be fatal.”

“Is that legal?”
asked Leading Seaman Sigvar Borsheim.

“Does it matter
to you if it be not?” countered Witch, looking up at him through narrowed eyes. Borsheim shook his head quickly, not wanting to annoy her any further. His luck was bad enough; he didn’t need a witch’s curse too. She held it out where the therapods could see it. “See the way the dark black iron and the silvery nickel layers merge? These patterns are the blade’s pamors. Each has a specific meaning and name which gives it a special magical property.”

“Like what?” asked Bob.
“Can you draw some on mine?”

“They have to be added at the blade’s forging, mon,”
explained Andrews. “If you be a believer, I be happy to have one made for you.”

“Yes, please!” agreed Bob
. He held up his tomahawk. “Can they make them like this?”

“I
know not,” she replied. “If they cannot, I can work with your weapon makers to at least add this.” She showed Bob the picture inscribed into the weapon’s handle.

“Who is that?” asked Bob.

“It is Semar the Mysterious,” Witch replied with a touch of awe in her voice. “He is my guardian spirit.”

“
Is that my guardian spirit too?” asked Bob.

“I do not know, mon,” replied Andrews, “but I will help you find
your guardian spirit when we get back if you wish.”

Bob nodded happily.

Doug looked at Vice Sergeant Ismail Al-Sabani standing next to him. “Do you have a kris?”

“No,” replied Al-Sabani, “I have a janbiya.”

“What is that?” asked Doug.

“A janbiya is an Arabi
an dagger,” answered Al-Sabani holding up the sheathed blade. “It is a short curved blade with a saifani handle made over 100 years ago from a rhinoceros horn.”

“Can I see it?” asked Doug.

“I am afraid not,” replied the Saudi. “Like the weapon of Sergeant Andrews, my blade is both a weapon and a spiritual object, and there are rules that must be followed to avoid defaming it. My janbiya only leaves its sheath for combat or ceremonial events.” He held up the sheathed blade. “You can see from the sheath,” he continued, “that the blade bends toward my enemy. I do not need to turn my wrist, so it is a better stabbing weapon than a straight-bladed knife. Its blade is heavy, so I can inflict deep wounds or cut through muscle and bone. I can also stick it in sideways and twist so that I can reach internal organs more easily. In my country, it is a formidable and much feared weapon.”

“Whatever blade you carry needs to be something that you are comfortable with,” interjected Wraith
, walking by the group, “and something that complements your fighting style. Do not choose one of our weapons to try to blend in with us. Use your own weapon, as you know best how to use it. Most of us will let you try our weapons to see if you like them; if there is a reason for not letting you use try them,” she said, acknowledging Al-Sabani, “we can have replicas made that you can use.”

“What do you use?” asked the Saudi.

Wraith drew a straight short sword from the scabbard at her side. Al-Sabani could see Korean characters running up the length of the blade. “Like most of the other platoon members’ weapons,” she said, “this is a special sword. It is a sa-ingeom, or ‘four tigers’ sword, from the Joseon-era in western Korea. It has a 35-inch blade, which was made mostly by molding, rather than hammering.
These swords were crafted with the greatest care, using only the highest quality steel. By tradition, these swords were forged only for the king and could only be made at certain times; there is only a two hour window to produce these every 12 years. It was given to me by the president from her collection. It is, quite literally, priceless.”

* * * * *

Shuttle 01
, Keppler-22 ‘b’, August 12, 2020

“What do you think of these?”
Steropes asked as the shuttle detached from the
Vella Gulf
and began its descent to the planet’s surface.

Calvin looked up to see Steropes holding two black, leaf-bladed knives. “Nice,” he replied. “Are those throwing knives
?”

“Yes they are,”
Steropes answered. Without warning, he threw the one in his right hand at Calvin. Surprised, all Calvin could do was raise an arm to protect himself. The knife hit his arm and bounced away, hitting Ryan in the shoulder before falling to the ground.

“Would you two
gentlemen
stop fucking around,” Ryan growled, “
please
?” He said the word ‘gentlemen’ as if it were a curse. He bent over and picked up the knife and handed it to Calvin, who was still too stunned to speak. He took the knife and saw that it was made of rubber. The knife was hard enough to hold its shape and look convincingly real, but was made of rubber.

“First, let me say that was not freakin’ cool,”
Calvin said to Steropes. “And second, what the
hell
did you do that for?”

“I just wanted to make sure that
they looked real enough to be believed,” Steropes replied. “You’ll see.”

“
Five minutes to touchdown,
” the shuttle’s WSO, Lieutenant Gino Bianchi, called.

“Let’s go ladies!” Ryan shouted. “Gear up! When you’re done, check your neighbor!”

The squad began to putting on their helmets and checking all of their gear for the final time.

Space Force,
Keppler-22 ‘b’, August 12, 2020

The shuttle landed on what appeared to be a pristine beach, nearly 100 yards wide. The waters were calm
, and the scenery appeared restful, even idyllic. The pseudo-palm trees swayed in the gentle offshore breeze. The shuttle touched down, and the boarding ramp came down. The Space Force charged out of the shuttle and took up defensive positions, but there was nothing to see or defend against.

“All clear,”
Master Chief called, seeing nothing but the swaying trees.

Calvin walked out of the shuttle with Steropes. As they exited, they saw that the shuttle had set down about 50 yards from a rock that was sitting in the middle of the
sand. Six feet in length and slightly ovoid in shape, the rock was interesting because it was the only thing that marred the perfection of the beach. No other rocks could be seen in the water, on the beach or in the tree line. Seeing the rock, Calvin walked toward it with Steropes, Master Chief, Staff Sergeant Patrick ‘The Wall’ Dantone and Corporal Charles ‘Rocket’ Applebaum. The shuttle lifted off behind them to go back to the
Vella Gulf
, and the rest of the squad began moving toward the tree line. Finding the air safe to breathe and seeing no sign of danger, Calvin allowed the troops to take their helmets off.

“Oh, blessed sun,”
Doug said, stretching in the warmth.

“Now if we only had a snack,”
Bob added, “this would be perfect.”

As they reached the rock, Calvin saw that it was not a rock, but some sort of animal that had an outer carapace like a turtle,
as well as a third pair of legs. Judging by the smell, the creature had been dead for some time. There were no tracks or sliding marks around it. “
I wonder how it got here,
” he commed.

“
There are tracks made by some type of large creature coming from the forest,
” Staff Sergeant Dantone answered, “
but the tracks stop four meters away. Judging by the impression in the sand, something brought it here and threw it to where it now lies.
”

“
That would have to be an awfully big beast
,” observed Rocket. “
That thing in the sand must weigh several hundred kilograms.
”

“
Don’t anyone move!
” Ryan said softly over the platoon’s implant net. “
There is a monster dinosaur just inside the tree line.
”

Calvin slowly turned his head toward the tree line. “
I don’t see it
,” he said after looking for a couple of seconds.

“
Use your infrared
,” Ryan replied. “
It blends in with the trees. It’s even swaying with them in the breeze.
”

Calvin switched his helmet to infrared.
“
Holy shit!
” he said quietly. “
That thing is huge!
” He switched the infrared back off.  Now that he could see it, it was a sight that Calvin didn’t think he’d be able to get out of his head for a long time. The creature had six limbs and was standing on what passed for its hind legs. It looked like a giant bear, but had the leathery, hairless skin of a dinosaur. It was mottled in the colors of the foliage, allowing it to blend in so well with the background that it almost couldn’t be seen without turning the infrared back on. Both pairs of arms ended in claws that had four eight-inch long talons. It was the biggest living thing Calvin had ever seen. “
It’s got to be 15 feet tall!
” he commed.

Although the monster continued to watch them, it made no motion toward them
; it continued to sway in the gentle breeze.

“
LOOK OUT!
” yelled Sergeant Tagliabue. “
Monsters
coming from the ocean!
” The crash of antimatter grenades going off punctuated his warning. Part of the group that was still back near where the shuttle had been, Tagliabue had seen creatures rushing out of the water toward Calvin’s group, and he had triggered a burst from his trident.

The dino-bear forgotten
, Calvin turned to see a horde of creatures boiling from the water, with antimatter grenades detonating among them as they emerged from the waterline. They were monsters that looked like giant six-armed starfish with octopus heads attached to their bodies. The starfish were 12-feet wide from the tip of one tentacle to the tip of the opposite tentacle with a central body about 3 feet in diameter. A purplish-gray head projected almost four feet from the central mass of the creature’s body. Calvin and Ryan were closer to the forest and had an instant to aim their laser rifles, but they were already on Rocket and The Wall, who only had time to take snapshots at the creatures before they had to defend themselves.

Although
Sergeant Tagliabue’s grenades cut off further attack, five of the starfish had closed on the group, with two attacking Rocket, two more on The Wall, and the fifth going around to attack Ryan. Too close to use his rifle effectively, Rocket dropped it and pulled out his pistol. He began firing at one of the starfish attacking him and punched several holes in the central body of the thing. A purple fluid began spurting up through one of the holes, and the animal emitted a shrieking noise. This seemed to energize the other one attacking Rocket, and it lunged forward to wrap a tentacle around Rocket’s leg. As the starfish’s arm encircled the corporal’s leg, Rocket went rigid, and he stopped firing his pistol. He fell over, unmoving.

The Wall
kept his rifle, alternately firing it and using it to block the tentacles that kept trying to reach out for him. He backed up slightly so that he could see both of the creatures at once and met the swing of a tentacle with the stock of his rifle, following through to point the weapon at the head of the creature. Before he could fire, a tentacle from the other creature wrapped itself around the rifle and pulled it from his hands, throwing it down the beach. Before the creature could attack again, The Wall pulled his laser pistol from his leg holster and triggered it several times in quick succession. The creature fell backward, unmoving, with three holes between its four centrally-located eyes. As The Wall turned toward the second creature, he saw that it was already in motion, using the distraction of the first monster to attack. It launched itself through the air onto the soldier, and both went down in a tangle of arms and tentacles.

As Calvin and
Ryan both fired their rifles at the one charging Ryan, the sounds of additional lasers firing and another wave of antimatter explosions were heard as a second, larger group of starfish came hurtling out of the water near where the shuttle had dropped them off. Warned by the initial attack, the rest of the platoon was better prepared. The starfish were met with a wall of explosives and laser bolts, and they were driven back into the water without any further casualties to the Terrans.

Ryan
set his rifle to ‘beam,’ and used the laser to slice a tentacle from the one attacking him, while Calvin fired from the side into the octopus head. After several bolts, the starfish seemed to collapse upon itself and dropped to the ground. Calvin turned to help The Wall, who was lying unmoving on the beach with the monster on top of him. The creature had also stopped moving, apparently intent on feeding on the soldier. Calvin fired four shots into its head and watched it fall over in a puddle of purple ooze.

Ryan
looked up to find the last starfish on top of Rocket with several of its arms wrapped around him. Before he could do anything, Ryan was knocked off his feet by the dino-bear as it rushed past him. It didn’t attack Ryan, but slammed him to the side as it hurtled forward toward the remaining starfish that was now pulsing on top of Rocket. The dino-bear slid to a stop next to the starfish and raised a massive, talon-laden foot. It stomped down on the head of the starfish in an explosion of purple, killing the beast instantly. The beast reached down and grabbed the starfish in its four front claws, picking it up off the ground. Shaking it like someone removing dust from a rug, Rocket was thrown from underneath, and the dino-bear ran off to the forest, its prize clutched in its claws. The squad could hear the creature crashing through the brush, but quickly lost sight of it.

“
Medic!
” Ryan yelled, but as Calvin approached the downed soldier he saw it was too late. Half of the front of him had been eaten away. He was dead.

Several members of the squad pulled the other starfish off of The Wall to find that most of
the armor on his torso had been eaten away, along with the majority of his face and chest. The squad’s medic, Leading Seaman Borsheim, leaned over to confirm his death. “Oh my God!” he cried in horror. “He’s still alive!” Father Zuhlsdorf shouldered his rifle and stepped forward. Knowing the soldier was a Catholic, he made the sign of the cross over him, softly saying a prayer.

“
Shuttle 01,” Calvin commed. “
Get back here immediately! We’ve got a trooper down, and we need immediate evac!
”

“
On our way,
” the shuttle’s WSO, Lieutenant Gino Bianchi replied. “
ETA two minutes!
”

Borsheim
continued to minister to The Wall, and the shuttle returned in less than the two minutes promised. It landed with its boarding ramp already lowered, and the squad quickly loaded the soldier onto it. In less than a minute, the shuttle was back on its way to the
Vella Gulf
, leaving the rest of the team on the beach.

“We’re sorry we arrived too late to help,” a
new voice said as the shuttle blasted its way toward the heavens in a full power ascent that coated the platoon in sand. Turning around, Calvin saw a number of humanoid creatures looking at him from the water. They stuck out of the water from the waist up and would have looked very human, except for the gills on the sides of their throats, the second set of arms they had and their coloring, which was a light shade of blue. One motioned toward Rocket’s corpse. “There’s nothing that you could have done for him, once the tentacles wrapped around him. The creatures have spines that release an extremely strong toxin. He was dead within instants of being grabbed.” He shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said, looking back up at Calvin. “Wait, you are not one of the islanders,” he said with a jerk as he startled backward. “Who are you?”

“
Steropes, how are we able to understand them?
” Calvin asked over the implants.

“
There must have been a Psiclopes station here at some time in the past,
” Steropes replied. “
Hopefully, we can use this information to help us figure out where we are once we get back.
”

Calvin saw that the man
was still waiting for an answer. He removed his helmet. “No, we are not from this land,” he said. “We are explorers from a land far away.”

“We thought that you were the people
that live on this island,” he said. “We have not seen them here by the water in many years. Not since the evil ones came.”

“My name is Calvin,” Calvin said. “Who are the evil ones?”

“My name is Dolph,” the man replied. “The evil ones are the snakes that fly. They came from the sky to bring hell to this planet.”

“We have come from the sky also,
” Calvin said, “to get rid of the flying snakes. My friend Steropes here has fought them before on other planets and is familiar with their pyramids.”