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Authors: James Axler

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BOOK: Angel of Doom
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“Sometimes you brought them back whole and other times you were able to release their essences,” Brigid surmised.

Vanth nodded. “I presume you are aware of quantum theory.”

“Many aspects, though the math can be overwhelming,” Brigid responded.

“Then you understand the concept that the reality that you and I currently sit in is something that is merely a shadow. A tesseract of an original,” Vanth said.

Brigid nodded. “I've always been more of a fan of the beer-head descriptor. That we live in the quantum foam, while the totality of reality is actually the fluid we are floating on.”

Vanth smiled. “Right. And each person, their existence,
their essence, while it might look like something different and unique, is all composed of the exact same cosmic energy. When an organic dies, the vitality that made them alive does not dissipate due to the laws of conservation of matter and energy.”

“It returns from the quantum foam to the cosmic fluid,” Brigid concluded.

Vanth took a deep breath, closing her eyes in almost orgasmic relief. Brigid bit her lower lip, steeling herself against the magnificence and sheer magnetism of the woman in front of her. “You do not realize how wonderful it is to talk to someone who can entertain these thoughts, let alone understand them.”

Brigid glanced over at Charun, who was laughing as Grant and Kane joked with him. The eight-foot titan picked up his tankard of mead and took a deep draught.

“So, you are more in touch with this quantum whole,” Brigid stated.

“We can trace the energies, the threads. Indeed, in returning to the foam-and-bubbles theory, our universe is from the next bubble over,” Vanth said. “We've called our home Styx…but humanity has gone and made that out to be a river to the afterlife.”

“Which, in the terms of quantum theory, a wormhole between our universes would be akin to such a river,” Brigid said. “Not the river Styx, but the river
to
Styx.”

“Which in your English would still be named the River Styx,” Vanth said. “To give ourselves a common terminology. We can agree upon this, correct?”

Brigid nodded. She sipped some more. The food was delicious, but she couldn't help but wonder at where the rest of the population of this countryside had gone. There were far fewer humans working in the pyramid than she would have expected given the sparseness of the Etruscan lands.

According to the New Olympians, others had sent expeditions into this land, seeking out those who had formerly been traders and customers. Those expeditions faded into nothingness, never returning, and this was on the heels of the loss of three caravans traveling through. Even via satellite, the Italian peninsula was notably depopulated. One year ago, according to infrared scans, there were several hundred thousand humans, as well as attendant livestock, living in the surrounding terrain.

Now, except for the smaller animals, birds and a couple of small towns, there were barely two percent of the life forms visible.

While it was possible that Vanth may have exterminated them all, this pyramid was a significant source of heat. Measurements showed that somewhere in its halls and chambers, the heat signature of a million mammals was gathered.

“Right now, I have sequenced the people and livestock together in a telepathic algorithm,” Vanth explained. “An organic search engine that is searching for the frequency through which we can open up our River Styx and allow for easy passage between the two.”

“Even cattle and sheep can be used for figuring this out?” Brigid asked.

“Every brain cell can be used as a binary computer, even those of lower mammals and avians,” Vanth stated. “The capacity of math as simple as one and none is there for even insects.”

Brigid raised an eyebrow.

“No, I haven't hijacked the bugs,” Vanth told her. “First off…I don't care much for the little creepy crawlies. And second, a million vertebrates is a perfect contiguous system for ascertaining the portal and opening it.”

“You'll be able to open it without an Annunaki threshold or our interphaser?” Brigid asked.

Vanth nodded. “My torch is our technology for that purpose. We just need the combination to the lock, to use another analogy.”

Brigid took a deep breath. “I hate to seem distrusting…”

“You have a proper purpose to be so,” Vanth countered. “From the information I've gleaned about your history with other pan- and extraterrestrial entities, you cannot have gotten a good impression of our kind. I would love to inform you that not all of us are the same.”

“No. We've encountered benevolence, as well,” Brigid returned. “Enki is the greatest of these examples, as well as Balam and Quavell.”

“But you see me, borrowing the minds of others of your species, without asking,” Vanth admitted.

Brigid nodded. “That is a frightening and imposing concept. To be hijacked to become part of a massive calculator.”

“They are all safe and well beneath the pyramid. They are shielded from even the mightiest of mankind's nuclear weaponry, cradled under one thousand feet of this arcology,” Vanth told her. “You do sense the similarity between this and the megalithic ville you used to reside in—Cobaltville, correct?”

Brigid nodded. “Safe. What about their other needs?”

“They are being kept fed, bathed, and their accommodations are being hygienically maintained by humans we've programmed for that task,” Vanth said. “And once we are done with them, then we will free them.”

“Unharmed,” Brigid returned.

Vanth nodded. “I swear upon my oath as defender of these lands. I have protected, not conquered. I have not taken that for which I have repaid. And the wonders I give unto humanity in repayment for opening the door back to our home shall be endless.”

Brigid looked toward Charun and her fellow adventurers. Her instincts were tingling and her belief in the benevolence of Vanth was shaky for now. Was this demigoddess seducing her with soothing voice and lies by omission? Or was she sincere and genuinely pleading her innocence?

“Endless wonders,” Brigid repeated. “Let's drink to that.”

Vanth poured some more wine, for the both of them. To endless wonder…not endless horror.

Chapter 19

Kane could feel Charun's disappointment at being dragged away from the table, from feasting and carousing, and forced to accompany Vanth and Brigid on their tour through the mighty pyramid.

“This is not fair. We have won a mighty victory,” Charun said.

“This is how Brigid celebrates,” Grant offered. “Knowledge is joy to her.”

Charun wrinkled his nose, sniffing in disdain. “Just as well. There is little fun to be had when carousing with insensate thralls. In their calculation mode, they agree to any and all suggestions.”

“Not much sport in the already drugged,” Kane agreed. “That immediately puts you ahead of most of the enemies we've battled.”

Charun looked down at Kane, then roared with laughter, drawing stares from Brigid and Vanth up ahead of them.

“Use your inside laughter, my love,” Vanth chided.

“This is my inside laugh,” Charun countered. Kane saw the wink in the big man's eye in his response to her. It was a human enough action, disarmingly so. These entities had elements in common with him and Brigid, including the familiar chiding and joking together. If there had been a third member of their group, Kane would almost have thought these godlings had based themselves off…

“So how much did you learn about us from the Olympians?” Kane asked.

“Not as much as I would have liked, but enough to see that your reputation of courage and proficiency as warriors was not exaggerated by their memories,” Charun stated.

Kane nodded. “Especially with Grant wielding your hammer.”

“That was a surprise,” Charun admitted. “But then, it has been a long time since you battled alongside the soldiers of New Olympus.”

“All I did was not resist the weapon,” Grant said. “It knew where it wanted to go and I helped it.”

“You've said that before,” Charun pointed out. As they were now, Vanth and Charun were both wearing their loincloths and nothing more. Weapons, armor and wing packs had been returned to their proper storage, for none would dare assail the home of the Etruscan gods, or so Kane imagined the thinking of these beings. He was busy projecting thoughts and likenesses onto them, but kept his true doubts and fears smothered deep down in his gut. He wasn't allowing his prejudices to rise to the surface, though, ever since he'd started adventuring alongside Brigid Baptiste, both he and Grant had leavened their old and cranky ways. There were still initial knee-jerk reactions, and tons of suspicions, but they didn't let them blind them to the real evidence of their eyes and ears.

They judged now on deeds, not words, but no one could be immune to negative first impressions, not when you'd spent a life in law enforcement and been trained to look for the worst, the signs of danger among those you meet. No, Kane was not the same man he was six years ago, but some things never changed.

Especially the tenet of “be polite, be courteous, but have a plan to kill everyone in the room.”

Just because you weren't judging books by their covers didn't mean they still weren't full of lies and deceit, and often enough, those covers did match their contents. But now, Kane wanted to be absolutely certain, not to let prejudices color any evidence.

He returned to examining the pair. Vanth didn't seem to care that her feminine assets were all but bared for all to see, a string around her hips holding up the length of linen that hid her genitals in a token nod to modesty in mixed human company. Her full, luscious breasts were pert and, Kane had to admit, hypnotizing in their soft, rounded perfection. He noted that Grant tended to focus intently on her face or something else rather than get drawn into those tits.

Her comfort at near nudity almost seemed like a dare to either of the men. Her battle armor was nearly transparent, or it was designed with the same tapestry of her skin, so that when she went into battle, you saw her as if she were naked, but her flesh was protected against all elements and harm.

“Hell, if I had a body like that, I'd charge into battle naked, too,” Brigid had admitted when they'd first arrived via Manta. That memory brought a smile to Kane's lips as the image of Vanth was replaced with Brigid herself, looking bare to all the world yet still wrapped in alien alloy cloth tough enough to turn small arms fire.

Baptiste, forgive me for that, he thought as they looked through halls decorated with ancient artifacts. The pyramid was clean, and it was a place that archaeologists would have killed to enter had they known of its existence in another age. Hell, there was enough gold and silver to bring in pirates from across the globe seeking wealth. Gemstones and artwork from the time when the gods let man assume he was the pinnacle of life on the planet were on display, as well.

The wealth of history here is incredible, Kane mused. In some rooms he saw the leather spines of books stuffed onto shelves, as well as wound scrolls and storage tubes for more of the same. Something Brigid had mentioned niggled at the back of his mind. “The library of Alexandria.”

Charun looked down. “Ah, Alexandria. An almost impressive collection, much of it stolen from our lands.”

Kane tilted his head questioningly.

“We were here first,” Charun explained. “Without us, there never would have been a Greece, or a Rome. Alexandria was put together for
them
.”

Kane understood the emphasis in Charun's statement was a curse toward the Annunaki.

Methinks you protest too much, Kane thought, tapping a line that Brigid had used on more than one occasion. He was starting to wonder if they weren't kith and kin to Enlil and his lot.

Once more, he found himself fighting against ancient prejudices, reminding himself that there were those of Annunaki blood who were not evil. Balam had a mixture of genes including that race, and he'd warned and aided Cerberus against the overlords. Fand's father was Enlil himself, and yet she was a trusted ally, calling upon Kane and the others in struggles against ancient evils. Then there was Enlil's brother, the benevolent Enki, and his spawn, the Nagah and the Watatsumi who'd splintered off from their Indian brethren across millennia and catastrophes. The mere presence of the DNA of the overlords was not a condemnation; it was just a sign that they were simply different from human. The Nagah and Watatsumi had demonstrated that they were just as human as anyone Kane had met.

Maybe Charun's disgust with Enlil was such that he
rejected his Annunaki heritage, or maybe it was all just a trick.

And yet, Kane had his Sin Eater on his forearm, his fighting knife in its boot sheath and was still clad in his protective shadow suit. The same went for Grant, and Brigid had her weapon, as well.

If they truly were tyrants, looking to usurp humanity, why would they have been allowed their minds yet? Why would they be left armed? Charun had even allowed Grant to replace his spent hand gren on his belt, the one weapon that could even the odds between a mere human and the godly hammer of Charun.

There was no way that Charun and Vanth would have been dumb or trusting enough not to consider the Cerberus explorers a threat. He wondered if his weapon would even operate. But even if there was some means of magnetically disabling the Sin Eater, that wouldn't render his knife or Grant's gren useless. Would it?

Or maybe they just don't care if they get shot or stabbed. Maybe they feel so physically superior that hand-to-hand with a knife would be suicide for any human, and mere bullets only sting, not slay.

You're projecting again, Kane.

“Charun, you look a little bored. Why not show us where the fun stuff is?” Kane asked.

“The weapons or the wenches?” the demigod asked.

“Or the liquor?” Grant added.

BOOK: Angel of Doom
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