Tomb of Zeus (Atlantis) (4 page)

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Authors: Christopher David Petersen

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EMPTY
?” Cephius shouted in disbelief.

“Are you certain of this?” Poseidon asked, now looking back out at the small spot on the ocean.

“Yes Sir. We examined it through the sight glass. There’s no one aboard,” Tallus replied, apprehensively.

Poseidon looked to Cephius, then back to
Tallus. Shock and disbelief registered across his face.

“My brother!” he said in worried tone.

Instantly he sped off across the plains toward the sea, Cephius and Tallus following close behind.

 

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

 

Poseidon held the tiller of his long wooden craft as the rows of slaves powered it swiftly across the seas. As they pulled within a hundred yards of Zeus’ boat, streaks of red could be seen along the top rails indicating bloodshed.

“No no no, this can’t be happening. Who would do such a thing?” Poseidon said in angst.

“Maybe he’s still alive. Maybe he’s not even on the boat. He could have swam to shore somewhere,” Cephius said, in hopeful tone.

“I fear your hypothesis may be far too optimistic,” Poseidon said, bluntly.

As they pulled along side Zeus’ craft, all hope was lost. The sight of the carnage left little doubt of their king’s fate. Poseidon looked toward the rear of the boat and let out a guttural cry of anguish.

“They’
ve killed my brother. These savages have killed our king!” he shouted, tears streaming down his cheeks.

He leapt from his boat to other and ran down the middle. Passing the sight of the slain humanity, he pictured in his mind the fight that must have occurred. He noticed cleanly severed limbs and decapitated head
s, leaving little doubt of the savagery of the fight. As he approached Zeus, he could see he still clung to his scepter. Pride replaced grief momentarily as he realized Zeus had beaten his foes. He had died the victor, a great honor in their culture.

He knelt down and gently pulled the scepter from Zeus’ grasp. He lifted his brother’s head and rested it in his lap. Tears streamed from his eyes and dripped onto Zeus’ face, slowly washing away some of the blood. As others looked on, he realized his
audience and quickly composed himself. Forcing himself to be strong, he stroked his brother’s cheek, then stood. He raised the scepter above his head for all to see.

“Lord Zeus is dead. I am now your King!”

Cephius instantly knelt in the boat and bowed his head. Other’s followed his example.

“Long live Lord Poseidon,” Cephius
said aloud.

Together
, all stood at attention and chanted in unison: “Long live Lord Poseidon.”

With Zeus’ boat in tow, Poseidon now manned his tiller and steered his craft back toward shore. Cephius stood by his side and added words of comfort.

“He did not die in vain, my Lord. I will insure the beacon is ready by the week’s end. You will return home, just as he promised.”

Poseidon thought about Cephius’ words.
His eyes narrowed and a smile spread across his face.

“Home, Cephius?” he said aloud. “
This
is
home,” he said cryptically.

“Sir? I don’t understand,”
Cephius asked in puzzled tone.

“You will continue the pyramid, but
its purpose has changed.”

“C
hanged? To what?” Cephius asked suspiciously.

“It will now become my brother’s home. It will be his burial site,” he replied.

“I don’t understand.”

“You will, Cephius. You will,” he responded cryptically.

 

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

 

Po
seidon stood inside the twenty by twenty by ten foot high golden vestibule and gazed at the intricately inscribed inscriptions etched into the walls and ceiling. He nodded in satisfaction as he read through the details of his brother’s life. With the utterance of the final word, he looked toward the small opening in the ceiling. The sun’s rays shined down through it, brilliantly pinpointing a spot on the round golden altar. Deep inside the pyramid, it was a befitting eternal resting place for his brother. He nodded approvingly, then moved to the edge of the altar. He stared down at the precisely cut hole in its center. He hesitated a moment, then pulled the crystal scepter from his side sheath. Grabbing the length of the broadsword, he delicately inserted the handle into the cut hole specifically designed for that purpose. For a moment, he stood back and wondered.

“Lord Poseidon, you’ve changed your mind. Shall I
prepare the men for the beacon?” a familiar voice shouted eagerly from behind.

Startled, Poseidon pulled the scepter from the hole and spun around. H
e stared at Cephius momentarily and collected his thoughts.

“N
o Cephius, as I said before, there’ll be no beacon,” he responded bluntly.

“Lord, I
still don’t understand,” Cephius replied in confusion.

“It is as I said: there’ll be no beacon.”

“But my Lord, when your ship returns, how will you signal it? Without the beacon, they will assume you’re dead and leave without you. How will you ever return home?” Cephius asked, his mind still refusing to process Poseidon’s words.


I won’t. This is now my home,” Poseidon stated, resolutely.

“Forgive me Lord, but I
still
don’t understand,” he pressed further.

“Cephius,
if I return to my home, I become insignificant once more, like grains of sand in the desert. Although collectively I fulfill a higher purpose, individually, my importance is practically indiscernible. But here, I live as a king: I am a God to all who know me. Never before, has my existence been so consequential. It is here that my true purpose is realized: I educate these primitive people and elevate their existence to that of human beings. And now, with the grand city of Atlantis newly built, I will finally show them the true meaning of civilization.”

Poseidon glanced to the opening in the ceiling, then back to Cephius and continued.

“No Cephius, it is here I will stay. It is here that I will choose my own destiny and forge the destinies of others.”

Cephius new Poseidon’s mind was made up and da
red not challenge his new king’s leadership. Such a thing was punishable by death. He nodded simply in obedience.

“Very well, my Lord,” he responded respectfully. “What are your orders?”

“Prepare my brother’s funeral,” he responded. Extending his hand toward the golden altar, he continued, “This will be his final resting place. It is here, that seems to be the most reverent and befitting.

“Yes, my Lord,” Cephius responded simply.

 

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

 

The crystal coffin was
crudely fashioned, yet still exuded glory and opulence. Although the sides were left unpolished, the top lid was not. Looking down through it, Zeus’s body looked perfect and undistorted as if no lid existed at all. The weight was heavy, far exceeding the limits of the slaves that were tasked to move it. Using mechanical leverages, the crystal casket rolled along the ground, as the slaves strained to control its direction. For two days, hundreds of men labored with its weight, finally bringing it to a rest atop the golden altar.

Poseidon monitored the
event intently. With the final placement, he nodded in satisfaction and watched as the tired slaves filed out of the golden vestibule. As they left, others entered, carrying urns of exotic oils and spices. He breathed in their rich aroma and directed the men to position the urns around the base of the altar.

Suddenly, a slave stumbled from the unwieldy weight of his large container. He fell forward, knocking into two other slaves. The three men dropped their urns,
causing them to smash into pieces as they contacted the golden floor. In seconds, oils flooded the area, fanning out through the broken fragments and coating the floor with a layer of sticky filth.

“Fools!” Poseidon shrieked in disbelief.

Instantly, he pulled his crystal scepter, pointed it at the three frightened slaves and squeezed the handle. As energy began to generate inside the weapon, he noticed the terrified expressions on their faces. He relaxed his grip and stowed his weapon in its sheath. For a moment, he stood and scowled at the slaves.

“Clean this mess up,” was all he could bring himself to say.

As he stormed out of the vestibule, he glared at Cephius. Cephius stood at attention and focused on the slaves at work, avoiding eye contact with his king.

“Thank you, my Lord,” he
said as Poseidon passed by.

Poseidon stopped, back up and stared at Cephius for a moment, reading the expression on his face.

“For what?” he asked bluntly.

“Your tolerance.
Lord Zeus might not have spared their lives,” he responded apprehensively.

Poseidon thought about his reply and nodded.

“This scepter will never create loyalty, only fear. If our empire is ever to succeed, we’ll need the loyalty of the people to do so. In my kingdom, tolerance and respect will replace the threat of the crystal scepter. Years from now, I hope the scepter’s presence will be merely symbolic and that all people will live in peace and understanding, instead of fear.”


You are a great king, my Lord,” Cephius responded proudly.

 

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

 

Poseidon stood one last time in the golden vestibule. With Cephius at his side, he laid his hands on his brother’s crystal coffin. A tear rolled down his cheek as he realized that would be the last time he would ever see his brother again.

He bent over to kneel and the crystal scepter momentarily impeded his movements. In frustration, he pulled it from its sheath and laid it on the floor next to him. Once again, he knelt down and paid his brother his l
ast respects. All in observance: Cephius; lower ranking officers; and slaves alike; did the same. Each man knelt, closed his eyes and held recollections of the great king, Zeus, in his mind.

At the edge of the great golden pyramid, a large trench was dug into the ground.
It extended for a quarter mile, nearly to the edge of the nearby sea. At the very end of the deep trench, a great wall of dirt was erected inside it and formed a dam. On the opposite side of the dam was a large man-made pond fed by ocean water.

Standing at the base of the pyramid and continuing on periodically along the length of the trench, men with tightly wrapped flags wai
ted on the word to unfurl the signal banners.

In the area surrounding the great pyramid and trench, thousands of people waited for Zeus’ burial to begin. Men, women and children alike, waited with great anticipation for Poseidon
to appear and give the word for the ceremony to begin. Seconds later, the signalmen would unfurl their flags, alerting those at the dam to release the water. Once the flow started, the rush of water would erode the loose soil of the dam, washing it away and allowing the full force of the water to flow from the pond and through the trench. In minutes, thousands of gallons of water would rush into the pyramid, filling its lower chamber and golden vestibule, forever sealing Zeus in a watery grave, one that tomb robbers could never reach.

Situated midway along the length of the trench,
Herodus waited impatiently for his chance to participate in the great ceremony. Standing far behind him, his family watched proudly as he held the furled flag. He smiled to himself as he heard his name:


Herodus, we’re so proud of you,” his family shouted.

He tried
to ignore their praise as he stood at full attention. As his own pride soared, he broke momentarily from his stance, turned and smiled at his family. They cheer his name even louder.


Herodus, we’re so proud of you,” they shouted once more.

He turned back and grin
ned again. In a mock demonstration of his role, he motioned the flag, rocking it back and forth, pretending to be signaling.

His family and friends now cheered wildly.
Herodus smiled. Once again, he rocked the flag, this time from side to side.

Further up the line, Herodus
stood at attention. Nervous excitement roiled inside him. He could barely contain his enthusiasm. Suddenly, he spotted the rocking flag pole further down the line. Without thinking, he unfurled his flag and began to wave it. Behind him, the throngs of people went wild. The sight of the waving flag and cheering crowd caused others to unfurl their own flags. Moments later, flagmen at the dam caught the signal and began to release the water. In seconds, the dam collapsed and thousands of gallons of water raced toward the pyramid.

 

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

 

Deep inside the pyramid, inside the golden vestibule, Poseidon heard the cheering crowds from above. He snapped his eyes open and lifted his head. He heard the strange roar of wind, but it was unlike any wind he’d ever heard before. Still kneeling, he turned to Cephius. Both men’s eyes registered disbelief. Seconds later, water rushed into the room in a raging torrent.

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