Beyond Hades: The Prometheus Wars (21 page)

Talbot's new-found courage almost fled at the sight of the beast. It was so far beyond anything he could have imagined that his knees instantly weakened. But Talbot swallowed his fear and straightened himself once more. He would die a man, no matter how terrifying the carrier of his death appeared.

The beast that emerged from the blue forest stretched nearly to the treetops But what set it apart were its arms... all of them. Talbot couldn't tell exactly, but he guessed there had to be close to a hundred arms, each powerfully-muscled. They sprouted from all over the immense torso, covering the creature's upper-body completely. And then there was its head....

Or rather, its
heads
.

Above the multi-limbed torso sprouted a horrific multitude of heads, dozens of them, probably close to fifty. Some boasted blonde hair, others brown or black, while still others gleamed completely bald. They seemed to operate independently of each other, moving individually, but all were currently gazing hatefully toward the village.

The creature pounded the ground dramatically with several massive fists, making the ground itself shudder, almost causing Talbot to lose his footing. Talbot savagely fought down his panic and stood his ground as it charged toward him once more.

He would not cower.

He would not flee.

Never again.

And bizarrely, facing down the most terrifying thing he had yet come across, Talbot felt a strange peace fill him. In accepting his fate, he had lost his fear. It was an incredible feeling for the normally timid archaeologist.

He was free.

Talbot actually laughed out loud before reigning his relief back in. He couldn't let it go too far. Hysteria crept within that laughter, and he wanted to be in full control of himself when he died. He had nothing else left except his pride.

The beast covered the distance between the blue forest and the walled-in centaur village quickly. It reached the gap in the wall and tore into it, throwing logs aside like kindling, enlarging the hole in the gateway.

Its heads swung one way, and then the other. Peering around, looking for something. And finally it spied Talbot.

A chorus of multi-tuned voices bellowed in unity, the force of which knocked Talbot backwards, but he retained his footing and stared coldly back at the beast.

The beast charged once more, directly at Talbot. The archaeologist didn't flinch. He was ready for this.

Talbot smiled.

Dust plumed up around Talbot as the gigantic creature screeched to a halt directly in front of him, rage glowering within its many, many eyes.

"WHERE IS PORPHYRION?" the beast roared through fifty voices, all blending into one.

Talbot stepped back, more from shock at the question than anything else. He'd been prepared for death, not an inquisition. He assumed the creature was speaking in Elder-tongue, but couldn't tell.

"Err.... He went through the rift," replied Talbot uncertainly.

The monster's heads swiveled, taking in the bodies of the dead centaurs, grief clearly displaying on many of its faces.

What the hell is going on now?
thought Talbot.

"Where is Chiron?" grunted the beast through one of the heads still facing Talbot. Its voice, while still rough, held a remarkably softer tone now.

"He went through the rift with some of his warriors to protect the other side. They were killed when Porphyrion came through."

Several eyes closed in sadness while other faces burned with obvious rage. "You come with me now," the beast said. "Boss said you must come, so you will come. I not kill you yet."

"Well, that's reassuring," murmured Talbot. In a louder voice, he said, "Who are you? What is this place?"

The beast's multiple necks craned to peer down at him. "I am one of three. We called Hecatonchires. Mine name Briareus."

He had heard of the Hecatonchires brothers before. They were three giant-like creatures who supposedly battled alongside Zeus in the war between the Greek gods and the mighty Titans, finally helping Zeus overthrow the powerful Elder-gods of Greece.

Talbot looked up at the fifty-foot-tall figure who had called himself Briareus. None of this came as a surprise to Talbot anymore. The events over the past few days -
was it only days? -
had worn smooth any delusions he had of knowing what the hell was supposed to happen within the universe.

"Where do you want to take me?" asked Talbot.

The enormous Briareus pointed half a dozen arms back in the direction he had emerged from. "I take you to boss," three voices began, quickly replaced by a different four heads. "I not kill you yet," they said, repeating their seemingly reassuring message from before, but Talbot couldn't discern if there were a specific emphasis on the word
yet
.

He remembered something. "You never answered my question from just before," he said, but was met with a look of puzzlement from Briareus. "Where are we? Is this Tartarus?"

The look of puzzlement seemed to wash from Briareus's fifty faces, replaced by one of amusement. Laughter rang from several mouths. "We are in Olympia," said one of the heads, others apparently chuckling at the stupidity of the little man. Briareus turned his colossal body away and began walking toward the ruined gateway.

"Of course we're in Olympia," muttered Talbot to himself. "Where else did you expect to be? Kansas?"

Still muttering, Talbot followed the giant, part of him wondering if he'd get eaten for asking the massive creature for a ride.

CHAPTER 9

The space between worlds tore at Wes, much as it had Talbot, if not worse. Because where Talbot had ceased resisting, Wes fought back, harder and harder. It was not in his list of qualities to surrender to anything, and with the most important mission of his life hanging in the balance; he wasn't going to learn how to lose now.

His soul tore apart for the hundredth -
or was it the millionth -
time since entering this place, and Wes screamed soundlessly. He would not give in.

When Talbot had mysteriously disappeared from beside him, Wes had tried to fight, to swim, to kick, to cry. Anything to stay beside the man he had vowed to protect. He wouldn't fail.

Not again.

Not like before.

He thrashed through the nothingness, his agony nothing compared with the roiling emotions bursting through him. He
had
to get loose,
had
to continue his mission. If he didn't, he'd be lost forever. If only his parents were alive.

The memory popped unbidden into Wes's wracked consciousness. It hadn't been his fault.

It was my fault, damn it!

The fire had been electrical. The smoke killed them before they felt a thing.

I heard them screaming!

Just because he'd decided to spend the night in his tree house, it didn't mean their deaths should weigh on his conscience.

I could have saved them! I should have been there!

He'd only been eight, what could he have done?

I should have woken up. They were screaming in the flames! THEY'RE STILL SCREAMING!!!

Wes convulsed so heavily that in any other environment he would have torn every ligament in his body and shredded his muscles. His back arched to a degree the human spine is not supposed to bend and twist. As it was, with the rapid dissolution and reformation of his body, Wes remained unharmed... at least physically.

I KILLED THEM!!!

Wes's body shimmered and thrashed. He knew he'd killed his parents. It was
his
battery charger which had malfunctioned and started the fire. If he'd been in the house he could have saved them. He could have....

He could still protect people. He could save other people.

I want my parents back. Alive.

But he knew that couldn't happen. Even manipulating the prototype jet to travel into the past had failed. He might be able to fool the people from this time, but he couldn't lie to himself. He'd been trying to return in order to prevent his childhood home from burning down. The ship wasn't designed for it, but he'd convinced it to go beyond its set parameters, and he'd torn through time, plummeting out of control into the past.

Because the ship was sentient. It could think for itself.

But that had also been Wes's downfall. In linking with the ship, he had partially opened up his mind to it, and it had glimpsed his plan. Changing events in time, while not illegal - mainly because nobody had travelled back in time before - was still deemed so potentially disastrous that the ship had altered course at the last moment and thrown them into this time instead.

The problem now was Wes couldn't get back.

Traveling back in time had always been theorized, even Albert Einstein had written about it. Unfortunately, travelling forward in time was impossible; simply because it hadn't happened yet.

Wes was stuck in a past which wasn't his.

Initially he had raged against the unfairness of the situation, but then his training had kicked in. The SAS did
not
cry about unfairness. They acted or they
re-
acted, but they didn't whine.

And so Wes had organized a deal with the President of the United States - the eminent power during this time - and he remained free from any authority as long as he assisted with the development of advanced technology. He had also requested to be placed in charge of close protection on the highest risk target they had; in this case it was Doctor Talbot Harrison.

And Wes was failing that mission!

Once more Wes thrashed about in the nothingness, the agony of his constant molecular deconstruction and reformation pushed aside as his absolute need to protect Talbot came to the fore.

You can save him. Just do what he did.

The thought came to Wes unbidden, and instantly he relaxed his thrashing. He still held himself tense, ready at the first opportunity to break free from this nothingness, but he had to think logically. Talbot had been beside him, enduring the same agony Wes was, when suddenly he had vanished.

No, that wasn't exactly true. He had done something first, but what had it been? Wes wracked his tortured mind. What the hell had Talbot
done
? And then it came to him through the haze of pain.

Talbot had done absolutely nothing. In his mind's eye, Wes pictured the doctor once more, just before he had disappeared, remembering Talbot's relaxed nature, and the way he had smiled....

Smiled?
Why would he smile?

Another jolt of power shredded Wes, and he cried out soundlessly. He'd been here for hours... days... years? Time had no meaning in this nothing place. Maybe if he just rested for a while....

And then it came to him.

Wes smiled, relinquishing control. He allowed his body to be fully consumed by whatever energy resided in this place; the same power which had been testing his intentions before allowing him access to whatever lay beyond it. It was a most remarkable precaution, effectively barring anyone with aggressive natures or intentions. It was almost like....

And then he was gone.

***

Wes crashed heavily to the ground, but tucked and rolled his body, flipping smoothly into a crouch with his M4A5 up and cocked against his shoulder - nostrils flaring, scanning for hostiles.