Difference between revisions of "Atlantis Rising: Chapter 2"

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The second chapter of the series.  
 
The second chapter of the series.  
  
Previous Chapter: [[Phoenix Rising: Chapter 1]]
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Previous Chapter: [[Atlantis Rising: Chapter 1]]
  
 
Homepage: [[Atlantis]]
 
Homepage: [[Atlantis]]
  
Yes, I realize that chapter 2 is still as of yet outdated and un-refurnished. It's currently under construction and may take a while to finish.
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I've done some switching around of chapters, and a bit of off-line work, which brings this chapter into play.
  
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Also see: [[Reaper's First Drop]]
 
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'''15:19 Hours, February 8, 9406 BCE (Military Calendar), Inner Ring Middle Education Facility, Atlantis'''
  
  
  
"Your name, please?"
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“The world began as a flat liquid void. In the void there was nothing but the liquid that expanded forever, and the mist-filled sky, where the gods reside. There were no animals or plants. No life. The void was not called Earth yet. The liquid was flat, stretching on forever, and devoid of waves. There was no air.
  
I ran my eyes over the young receptionist. The dark-wood interior of the Embassy was a far cry from the combat zone I had just stepped out of.  
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"The three patron gods were born from the thick mist permeating the sky. They emerged from the cloudy vapor fully formed. Their bodies, humanoid, were perfect.
  
"Kenderson. Matt." I said, stepping forward.  
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"There was no time to measure, but sometime later the gods grew weary of the vast emptiness that was the world. They formed the earth and the heavens, and later the soil, plants, land animals, fish, squid, and all other creatures. The pure-liquid that made up the world formed and flowed under their hands into the substances they wished to create, all the components of all substance being derived from the void liquid that was not water.
  
"Campbell, James." Jamie said after me. Scar and Holly gave their names.  
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“The different gods chose for themselves specific regions out of the earth they were forming that they wished to control. There is Father Poseidon, the firstborn of the gods and the first to decide upon creating something out of the void. Poseidon formed the pure liquid into the great bodies of water on our Earth, thus making the first planet. Poseidon also introduced gravity to the universe, proportional to the mass of a body. This causes our world to take the form of a sphere, and thus, we know our world is round.  
  
"Now how bout some answers, lady?" I asked. "What's all this about? Why are the French suddenly taking up American citizens?"
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"Second, there is the powerful Ra that made the skies and the clouds. He refined the empty sky and created the weather patterns and the sun, an eternal light, which later came to help sustain life. It was he who made the first, pure gold from the scarp particles he used to create the sun. And for the spans in which the sun was not in sight, due to the curvature of the Earth created by Poseidon, he developed the moon to reflect the light of the sun onto the earth. And from the particles of the moon he created silver.
  
The blond receptionist's artificial smile wavered momentarily. "I'm just here to take the list, sir. Please proceed down the stairs ahead and you will come to a lobby where all the other evacuees are currently waiting."
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"Last, there is Freya. She is the goddess of the land, the goddess who created and governed all of the land we live on. She is also, fittingly, the goddess of all earthly ties, such as beauty, love, lust, and grief. She is also the one who first created land, and thus, a platform for life.  
  
She wasn't paid to answer the questions. I shrugged and motioned for my crew to follow.
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"Atlantis was the first continent that the gods created. They made this original land perfect, a utopia filled with everything needed for a pleasant life - it was, in effect, the Garden of the Gods. Poseidon, as I stated earlier, created the world as a single body of water. Freya created a single mega-continent of land in the middle of the world's ocean, and Poseidon and Freya and Ra together made the terrain and weather currents. And thus Atlantis, the perfect world, was formed.
  
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"While creating the flowing rivers and streams and mountains and valleys and the different weather patterns was amusing for a time, the gods eventually again grew weary of their surroundings. Poseidon was the first to create life of any kind, but it was Freya that made we humans.
  
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"Poseidon started out small, tinkering first with only a single cell. He made his creation perfect, and released dozens of them deep into his oceans. He then moved on to bigger and better things.
  
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"The other gods took notice of Poseidon's work and began to expand upon it. Poseidon made all the creatures of the sea, Ra, the creatures of the air, and Freya began to work on land.
  
The two sneaks vaulted over the high wall, one after the other, carefully timing their approach so that the guards wouldn't see. Contrary to the popular belief, spies did not wear a classic skin-tight jet black uniform. Even in the dead of night, nothing is truly black, bit instead a dark shade of gray. And in real life, spies like these wore baggy suits that tried to break up the outline of a humanoid figure with irregular spacing of different sized pockets. Nothing was symmetrical about these two French SpecOps.
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"And then, about 3 million years ago, it was Freya who started to hit upon human life. It had become an established protocol for all the gods to improve upon their past works, called "Evolution" in your science classes. So Freya took one of her creations called an ape that she had created and improved the design slightly. And thus we have the first female human, named "Liften", modeled after Freya herself.  
  
The two assassins clutched their silenced SMGs tightly. If anything went wrong, there was pretty much nothing their backup could do.  
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"The years passed, but Liften did not age. She grew lonely, so the gods made a partner for her, Lif, modeling this male after Poseidon and Ra. And together they were happy. They bore three daughters and one son, and began to establish the first beginnings of what today is the Atlantis City Proper. The gods aided them and gladly gave everything that the first humans needed. After a time, it was decided that Lif and Liften should leave their earthly world to become gods in Heaven. The second generation of gods were thus born.
  
The two darted quickly across the lawn, both decked out in olive-drab camouflage fatigues and lightly armored.  
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"And thus came a Golden Age unto Atlantis, from 11,000 to 9,400 years before Lif and Liften are prophesied to return to Earth.  
  
A passing guard caught a glimpse of movement out of his eye, but by the time he turned to look the two SpecOps saboteurs had hit the deck, looking like just another part of the shrubbery. The guard returned to his rounds as one of the saboteurs took out a small plasma cutter and started the melting through the brick and reinforced steel while the other covered the first.
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"Liften instructed her children to go forth unto the world and multiply, assuring them everything they would ever need would be provided by the lands, and thus, indirectly, the gods. Generation followed generation, and each life was new, and had his or her own ideas to contribute. Eventually all of Atlantis was inhabited by we, humans. We have made many advances in science, the arts, and literature.
  
This was too easy.
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“Along with scientific advances came military advances. We discovered the power of explosives when we experimented with igniting a certain mix of native plants found here on Atlantis, and thus we made today's 'revolving rifles' that our infantry and sailors use to such great effect on the primitive Stone-Age inhabitants of the rest of the world created by Poseidon, Freya, and Ra.
  
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“Beyond this, we made many more advancements, both trivial and non, that make up the technology we use today, from our metal aircraft to our heavy tanks to our simple furnaces and plumbing in our homes. This is how the world began. This is how Atlantis came to be.”
  
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A large, church-like bell resounded three times, signaling the end of the class and the end of that school day.
  
  
The mass of Americans inside the Embassy was anything but quiet. Single men and women stood holding briefcases, dressed in expensive suits, yelling for lawyers. Families stood in corners, peering oddly at anyone that came too close. A group of drunk teenagers stood in the middle, singing random snatches of song.
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Jason stood, leaving the cramped, uncomfortable Lotus position he had been sitting in for the past hour. He got up and bowed respectfully to his teacher, Pocrates, and gathered up his papyrus scrolls before hurrying after his friends.
  
And above all the din was a man standing on a desk in the middle of the lobby, dressed in a tailored black suit, with two similarly dressed Secret Service men flanking him. He held a loudspeaker and was attempting to get the crowd under control.
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In truth, he was lucky to have Pocrates for a history/religion teacher. Some of the other kids at the Middle Education Facility (MEF) envied him, but Pocrates just wasn't the most interesting of teachers.
  
I strode up to him, my crew in tow. I looked him over, then tapped his knee to get his attention.  
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Jason packed his scrolls into a satchel slung across his single-piece blue, red, and gold-trimmed tunic. He walked out the arched doors and filed down the hallway with all the other students. The hallway opened into the community social center, the popular place to be during free time. Kids played Hoops over in a corner, tossing a bouncy rubber ball through a hollow ring parallel to the ground. A group of Seniors tossed a light-weight, foam discus around.
  
The man bent over and hopped to the ground, nimbly for such a tight-fitting suit.  
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But the majority of the students here were simply talking. Jason joined a group of his friends where they were hanging out in a corner, gossiping and laughing hysterically. He immediately joined in on the conversation and spent a good 15 minutes mingling with his friends.
  
"May I help you?" He asked warily.
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'''"Hey, Jason!" Jason instantly recognized the deeper bass tones of Heracles. Heracles was 15, 6 feet tall, and 180 pounds of muscle. "When's the party?"'''
  
"Kenderson, Matt. Private First Class, US Army." I said, saluting. "Mind if I ask, sir, what the hell is going on here?"
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'''"1600 Hours at my place." Jason announced to the general assembly. "Two weeks from now." The crowd whooped and yelled.'''
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'''
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"So what is it?" Someone asked'''.
  
"Good, good, someone who knows what he's doing." The Suit said. "Major Charles Morrison."
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'''"Swimming and sparring at my house for a while, then we'll all go out for a show and some of the new "pizza" stuff the Marines picked up from Rome. Then more swimming and music."'''
  
I saluted again, tightly.
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'''"Sweet!" was the general response. "How bout some hoops?"'''
  
"Tensions have been high for some time, leading up to December 12th. Well, today, they snapped. Charles de Fontaine was assassinated. And France thinks America is to blame."
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Jason smiled, pumped fists with Heracles, and walked off to the combined History and Economics classroom. This was one of the few classes that actually had seats in it; most of the others had soft mats to sit meditatively in. In Jason's opinion, you could focus better when you weren't inwardly complaining about your cramped legs. He got into the class just as the teacher, Persolacles, was starting his after-school lecture on the history of Atlantis and her colonies.
  
I blinked. "The French president? Evidence?"
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"...and as you have learned from your religion classes, the world started as a flat void of pure, sweet liquid. This is one of the few area subject matters in which religion and science agree. After this, though, they will branch off into two different paths. Your religion teachers will tell you that the gods above simply grew bored, and on a whim created the world.
  
"De Fontaine was in America at the time. He was visiting at the White House. Went in, never came out.  
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"Science stands a little different. This void was not only of flat, empty liquid, but also of a heavy, dense mist or fog that covered the face of the waters. Furthermore, this void did not simply make up what is now the world as we know it; Atlantis and the surrounding continents, but the entire universe. This expanse was infinite. Not only that, but evidence suggests there was a single piece of earth, an atom, if you will. All of the universal matter was contained in this one atom. For reasons unknown, this atom simply exploded upon itself. Some say the atom was of an extremely volatile type, and it no longer exists in this world. This is the main standpoint of scientific theories, although there are others. From this explosion, we have a primordial soup of various vapors and gases, that under changing conditions and temperatures, invariably solidified.
  
I whistled. "That's some pretty heavy evidence."
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“The temperature at this point, roughly 15 billion years ago, was extreme. Today we have no measure for the temperature, but there was no solid form because it was too hot. No liquid existed either - everything was gas and vapor. Does anybody know what causes heat?" Persolacles asked the crowd in general. Several hands went up. Jason had only a foggy idea. Chemistry wasn't his strong point. It was something about vibration...
  
"The VP ordered a nation-wide collection of all Americans in France. Naturally, we couldn't let that happen. We've sent marine squads out into Paris to track down any Americans still in the city. I'm surprised you didn't meet up with any."
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Persolacles pointed out one student, who answered, "Atoms and molecules vibrating?"
  
"That's just our luck, then." Jamie put in over my shoulder. "We had to jump off a ''twenty story hotel'' into a fricken' ''pool''."
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"Correct. Heat is a by-product of molecules, and their atoms, vibrating. The higher the speed, the more heat. In this world of non-solid, non-liquid, every molecule that existed was in constant motion as matter and anti-matter sped apart in opposite directions. Hence the heat.
  
"Orders?" I asked.
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"As this begins happening over the course of thousands of years, we see fascinating items come into play. The first piece of land to form was the now-dormant volcano at the heart of Atlantis. And-"
  
"Report to Sgt. Carter in the armory. I have a feeling he'll be wanting you to suit up for some action."
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"Excuse me, sir," A student's voice piped up. Jason craned his neck, but was unable to see the source. Probably Aaron. That brown-nosed nerd. “But is it not true that the Phoenix King has a secret military base housed in the hollowed out volcano? Rumors have been, well, circulating through the Education Facility, and I just needed to be sure." Yep, definitely Aaron. No one else referred to the "Middle Education Facility" as an actual "Education Facility." Everyone else just said school.
  
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"Yes, and I'm sure these rumors probably caused you great pain." Persolacles answered gravely. Even he didn't like the way Aaron tried to suck up to the teachers and show-up the other students. "But I'm afraid it is beyond my ability to answer. Mount Heliotropos, as it is known, is indeed shrouded in a cloak of mystery, and it is true that the military guards its borders and lets none visit the top of the mountain, but beyond that nobody knows but the Phoenix King himself." Aaron ducked his head, face heating, and sat quietly in his seat. Jason glanced around at the quiet classroom, bored. The class could seat twenty five students, and only eighteen were in the room. A dusty board sat against a richly paneled mahogany wall, with a matching mahogany desk for Persolacles.
  
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"Now where was I? Ah, yes. The first piece of land to form was Mt. Heliotropos. We know this from studying the carbon levels in the rocks here and on other parts of Atlantis, and we were able to get a date based on the amount of carbon levels we discovered in the rocks." Jason started writing out notes with his pen, using the long, graceful strokes taught to him in the Lower Education Facility years ago.
  
Carter was stereotypically gnawing on an unlit cigar. "Alright, boys!" He yelled as we entered, tossing us matte-black padded undersuits. "Get changed. No gawking. Move it!"
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"Mount Heliotropos was by no means the stable, dormant volcano it is today as at the beginning of the world. When Earth begun, Mount Heliotropos was spewing an almost constant stream of molten rock and volcanic glass.
  
The four of us glanced at each other, then turned and started stripping down to our boxers and underwear, pulling on the dark combat suits. Carter waited impatiently, then lead us into the actual armory. Suits of matte-black impact plating armor lined one wall, and on the other were stocked dozens of highly-lethal-looking rifles and weaponry. The room was lit with a classic fluorescent-and-bare-white candor.
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"This great deposit of volcanic glass, or obsidian, is the mainstay of our armed forces' blades today. With an infusion of steel or titanium at extreme heat, the obsidian becomes less brittle, and thus we have our sword blades and axe heads. We are unsure whether or not the entire universe spawned from this one atom on what would come to be Atlantis or whether there were more atoms of similar cosmic makeup that contributed to the universe as we know it." Jason yawned.
  
Each of us donned a suit of impact-plates. Carter tossed all of us helmets with a built-in HUD and wireless communications linkup.  
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"The evolution of life on Earth came about a billion years ago, keeping in mind that the solidified, life-sustainable Earth is 4 billion years old. The first life began as single cells in the ocean, which is why we pay respects to Father Poseidon in our temples. Over time, millions of years, the single cells evolved into dual-and-quad-cell organisms. From this point on, increasingly complex and intelligent creatures come into play."
  
Jamie strode forward and grabbed two G36c assault rifles, tossed one to me, and started distributing ammo. "Let's move, ladies!" Carter yelled, holding the door open as we and three other fully suited marines marched out, Carter giving us the specs of the armor we were wearing. A prototype. I ''hated'' prototypes.
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“The first creature to come on land was an amphibian. Today we have no name for this creature, but we have been able to find casts of its skeleton buried in the muck 100 feet off shore. Keeping in mind, of course, that 89 million years ago, when this amphibian roamed the seas, the shoreline was a lot different. Several theories have been proposed as to why the creature suddenly crawled onto a previously inhospitable, strange world of substance as opposed to the watery void that made his home, but the most viable of these is that this creature was simply trying to escape from the hostile waters. Casts of its skeleton show no significant weapons with which to defend itself besides fairly large teeth.
  
Five minutes later we were in the back of an armored Humvee. Carter was driving. I was on the M60 MG. Jamie was riding shotgun, and the girls were in the back with the three other marines, who as of yet had proved silent and unresponsive.  
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“This creature was also only four feet long, a shrimp compared to all the other Mosasaurs and Plesiosaurs that swam thence. This process, in which the lesser genetically equipped or skilled animal is naturally killed off due to its ease of hunting, is called natural selection, which is part of the reason humans are the dominant life-form. Humans are adaptable, and can live in a vast range of conditions.
  
"What're we out here for?" I yelled above the wind as we hurtled at about 80 miles an hour down the deserted road.  
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“And so, whatever the cause was, this creature crawled on land. While it was there, it presumably laid a clutch of eggs, which in turn spawned a small group of creatures that had naturally been born on land and so were more accustomed to it. Then some of these creatures grew up, laid their own eggs, and spawned even more effective land creatures. So on and so forth, each breed of new creatures mixing genes with other creatures and populating the earth as we know it today.
  
"Two teams got pinned down in a restaurant not far from here. Command estimates about 40 civilians. We're gonna crash the party." Carter yelled back, flooring the accelerator as we drifted out of a 90 degree turn.
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“Skipping ahead a bit, we now move on to human history. The year is 9406. The first humans, dubbed Lif and Liften, came in 15,000. Atlantis, or the start of modern Atlantian culture and technology, came in 11,000. Throughout the years we have been steadily advancing in technology and power. Today Atlantis controls all of the known world. Atlantis is conveniently situated in the middle of civilized cultures, such as 'Europe' to the North and East, the Mayans, Olmecs, Incans, and Aztecs to the South and West, 'Africa' to the East, 'The Orient' to the far East, among others.
  
I held on grimly to the MG, while in the passenger seat Jamie whooped. The girls got tossed around a bit in the back, but then we were riding smoothly again.  
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"Atlantis is the ruler of all the known world. We have taught the savages farming and agriculture. We have taught them about using more advanced simple machines. And we have left our mark.
  
"ETA 30 seconds!" Carter called a minute later. I made sure a belt was locked in the gun and chambered a round, setting the crosshairs where I imagined an enemy jeep to be. Carter relayed a live vid feed to our helmets from a tactical UAV drone. In the rapidly sinking sunlight I observed a blockade around a multi-story restaurant and hotel complex, and flashes of gunfire going in between. A grenade sailed through the chaos, landing beneath a French troop transport truck and shredding all the nearby materials.  
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"In Egypt; the great marble pyramids. In the land of the Celts, the great stone megaliths," He pronounced it 'Kelts'.
  
I zoomed out from the image and spotted our Humvee, about a block away and rapidly approaching.
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"In the land of the Olmecs, the great stone heads depicting the men of Africa. In Babylon; the giant stone Zigguarats. These we have left to mark our command over the primitive tribes of the rest of this world."
  
I canceled out of the UAV image as Carter relayed firing zones and suppressive positions we were supposed to cover.  
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A bell rang, signaling that it was five minutes till 16:00, or 4:00 PM. Jason packed up his scrolls and his notebook he had been doodling in and followed the crowd out the door. After talking for a couple minutes with his various friends and asking them if they were coming to the match tonight, Jason left the Middle Education Facility through the heavy penthouse gate and walked down the busy street.
  
Then we hit the intersection next to the restaurant and swung into another 90 degree turn, Carter accelerating off the curve.
 
  
Just as quickly he slammed the brakes and threw the Humvee into another 90 degree turn, stopping us mere yards away from the French soldiers. I opened fire with the MG before they even knew what happened, spewing 7.62mm NATO hollow-point anti-personnel rounds at the remaining French troops while Jamie kicked the door open and hopped out, still going about 20 miles an hour. He hit the ground rolling and was quickly followed by the three marines in the back, who were followed by Scar and Holly. Carter got out a second later and opened fire one handed while he primed a grenade in the other, adding to the murderous suppressive angle I was laying down.
 
  
The French forces were now divided between multiple targets, and we strafed them mercilessly. Carter hurled his grenade. Frenchies fell from all directions, and the MG grew hot in my gloved hands. I shredded any target that popped up, and Holly lobbed another grenade. Jamie and Scar sprinted for the building while Carter and two of the marines flanked left.  
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Jason's leather boots made no audible noise against the wall of sound that reverberated throughout the city. The school was a giant fortress behind him, right in the middle of the activity. Behind its walls, very little of the outside sound could be heard, but out here, the combined voices of over a thousand people on the one ring of the giant city was overwhelming.
  
Holly dove for cover as the Frenchies returned fire with some kind of grenade launcher, and the third marine was consumed in a roiling cloud of fire. I winced, ducking behind the metal shield of the MG as the gun clacked to let me know it was out of ammo. I flipped the top open, grabbed a fresh belt, and fed it into the receiver.
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The entire capitol city of the continent Atlantis was basically a series of three man-made rings, each about 9 stadium (measurements of 600 feet) wide, with rings of water in between each ring of land, also about the same width. The whole city was 50 stadium in diameter. The central island, where the school was located, was for the upper class. Only royal, religious, and educational buildings and dwellings. The Phoenix King's palatial fortress was housed beside Mt. Heliotropos in the center, and only a few hundred feet from it was the legendary temple to Poseidon. The Phoenix may have been the official symbol of Atlantis, but the sea was her lifeblood. It was imprinted into every aspect of their society.
  
While I was reloading, the Frenchies took advantage of the lull in the fire to regroup, and another grenade hurtled right for Holly.
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The middle ring was where the mainstay of the population resided. It was built to house the people comfortably. Plenty of markets, shopping centers, public baths and sporting pavilions to keep the population supplied and entertained. Although Jason's family lived with the Royal district on the central ring, he wasn't needed at home until five thirty, so he had an hour and a half to poke around. Might as well head over to the town centers and see what there was to see. He might even catch a play or something if he was lucky.
  
''Duck!'' I thought quickly, and Holly heeded. She threw herself against the ground so hard I felt the breath knocked out of her, and the 40mm Napalm-filled hollow grenade whistled right past her left ear. It exploded with a slightly muffled thud a couple yards behind, igniting a hot-dog stand.  
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The outer ring was where the industry and military shared quarters. It was the biggest of the rings, with a circumference of 160 stadium. The many canals and water-gates to the city were each guarded by a small fleet of the Navy's best, and blocked from direct access by large, chain-steel nets that were left lowered during the day so commerce could proceed apace. Docks crammed most of the space on the shores of the ring, loading and unloading goods, luxuries, tools, and weapons. The military's blades and guns were carved and honed from the volcanic obsidian and wood, which was needed all throughout the vast continent and its far-reaching empire. Most of the civilized world payed tribute to Atlantis, which was part of the reason they could afford so much luxury and grandeur.
  
I chambered the first round and opened fire again, and the exposed soldiers fell from multiple hits. Jamie crashed through the barricaded front door of the restaurant, Scar right behind him with medical gear in hand. Carter had been steadily advancing from cover to cover, now the 30-something-year-old seasoned veteran vaulted a car that the Frenchies were using as cover and opened fire from behind while I layed down covering fire. The other two marines took peaking shots from overturned vehicles and mounds of rubble in the street.  
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The three rings were all connected by four bridges that followed the four Cardinal directions, and although walking was the main transportation in the city, there were mass-transit options such as ferries across water and the treaded locomotives on land, run by steam power that turned a gear which turned the axle. Several of these stations ran in major points of the city, such as the bridges, and Jason hooked a ride on one, handing the conductor several silver Obols (Atlantian dollars). Three minutes later he was sitting in a spacious booth on board the train with a couple other kids his age.
  
And then their was silence. No return fire. No screaming. Only the background crackling as the napalm consumed the vendor stand and the muted cracks of gunfire from somewhere else in the city. The Frenchies were all dead or had surrendered.  
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The booths had an amenities station stocked with drinks and snacks. Jason fed an Obol into a slot in the box, whose locked glass door sprang open, grabbed a tin can out of the iced clay box and popped open the lid, taking a long draught from the sweet drink, Nectar. Of course, the rest of the world usually just drank wine, even the kids, but the medical docs had found out that the alcohol was bad for kids and tampered with their frontal lobes of their brains, causing them to make stupid decisions.  
  
Sergeant Carter had just earned my permanent respect from having vaulted over the car. I stayed on the MG and tracked the medical helicopter that hovered down to the pavement, ready to evac the civilians. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted the two marines cuffing the soldiers that had surrendered, and Carter plucking the tags off the burned marine. Poor guy. He would be the first of many to die in this war.
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At the next stop Jason got off, which was one of the main, outdoor shopping hotspots. Shaded overhangs cropped up all over the place, selling all kinds of stuff. Atlantians of all shapes and sizes and colors laughed and bartered with the local shopkeepers. Jason found himself unconsciously moving over towards one corner of the stone-walled, open aired building where the arms and armor traders had set up shop. Jason approached one of the smooth-stone counters and appraised a rack of viscous looking halberds.
  
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"Hello there, Jason. Would you be coming just to look, or was there something you wanted?" The storekeeper Pisces asked in a friendly tone. "Got all kinds of stuff up here."
  
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"Just looking today, I'm afraid." Jason replied. He came down here most days, and Pisces had always been nice.
  
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"That's plenty fine too. Just got a big shipment of those new Halberd things up there. Supposed to be great against cavalry."
  
The French saboteur gave a small grunt of impatience as the plasma knife cut the last brick out of the wall. It was nearly nightfall. A warm, dusky golden glow had settled over the landscape, accentuated by the clear, Wintery electric-blue sky. The leafless trees swayed in time with a gentle wind, and the sounds of machine gun fire and explosions seemed oddly far off. It was almost peaceful.
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"Yeah, I can see that. So, what, it's a cross between an axe and a spear?"
  
Then the saboteur kicked in the neatly melted hole in the red bricks, and the two gained entrance to the US Embassy. And they didn't come with plans of world peace.
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"You betcha. Plenty of leverage power to the axe blade, and of course the two foot long spike at the top won't feel great inside of the horses' belly."
  
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"Nice. I wonder if our school's gotten any mockups of those things for tonight's exercise."
  
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"Oh, is there gonna be some action tonight?"
  
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"Yeah, the Arena's being reset for a boarding action battle. Should be fun."
  
On the way back, Jamie insisted on manning the MG. Carter drove again, and one of the two marines rode shotgun. Me, Holly, Scar, and the last marine were in the back, and Scar was patching up a small groove in my cheek where a bullet had apparently grazed me. I hadn't even noticed, I was so wired on adrenaline.  
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"Well, one piece of advice; make sure you're never without a weapon. Guns are great till you have to reload. Spears are fine till you throw them away, and then what? If they've got 'em, I'd take one of these Halberds myself. Any weapon is better than none, and two weapons in one is better than one."
  
Scar was good with the medic stuff. Jamie was the pyromaniacal sniper who loved explosives and large weapons. Holly was my rifleman/grenadier/all-around down-to-earth girl. And I was the techno-computer-battlefield engineering dude. We would make the perfect team, given a little more training and experience. I was still jittery from being shot at, and coming down off the adrenaline high. God, I loved adrenaline.
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"Makes sense. I'll try one out tonight. Speaking of which, what's the word on the Minoan front?"
  
"Good work, soldiers. You did well. Mission accomplished." Carter said eventually. He sounded reluctant.
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"Thera? We've got a pretty good establishment there. The natives weren't much to mention. They had the basic stone and wood and a little bit of copper weapons, but those didn't do much against the mass amounts of orichalcum and titanium and steel we're sending down there. But there was still quite a battle, I understand, between a couple battalions of Marines sent ashore to secure their commanders and the Minoan army.  
  
"Thankya' kindly, Sarge!" I said, putting on a heavy Southern accent. His lips twitched. I'm not sure if it was possible for Carter to grin, but that was about his version of it, more or less.  
+
Jason grunted.
  
We sped through the back entrance to the Embassy, where the garage was. Another M1 Abrams Tank was idling in the parking lot, and a Bradley Assault Transport Vehicle was parked in a corner, next to a couple more Humvees. An unsmiling and serious green-on-olive clad soldier waved us through to the poorly lit parking garage.  
+
"Course, the flyboys came in and swept some of 'em out, and put some droppers behind the lines. By then the Marines had managed to cut through most of them, from what I hear."
  
 +
"Yeah. I hear they're setting up a new establishments on both Crete and Thera?"
  
A couple minutes later, Carter was leading back down to the Embassy. I stumbled when we entered the main room; nearly everyone was gone, and a slowly moving line lead back the way we had come, to the parking garage where I saw a helicopter landing. We met up with  the major at his desk again.
+
"Yeah, we'll see how it goes. I dunno why the King wants those positions so badly. But I guess he has his reasons."
  
"That's everyone, major." Carter reported.  
+
"Yep. Well, I'll see ya later." Jason said, took a swig of Nectar, and walked on, admiring sets of gleaming orichalcum-titanium armor, with crested gold-and-silver paneled helmets. These new ones were supposed to be able to deflect a full-force sword blade. Though one of those new Halberds might do the trick.
  
"Good, good. In about five minutes we'll have the rest loaded onto the helos, and then all we have to do is make it across the country, to the open ocean. The president is sending a carrier fleet to the Mediterranean. We'll hop aboard and tag a ride back to the States."
+
Jason walked into another section of the enormous recreation center. The baths here had been created specifically for the public comfort, and the multiple stained-hardwood-and-stone rooms were crowded with relaxing citizens. And the best part was, the baths were completely free, except for the towels. Jason gave the young female receptionist a gleaming silver Drachma. The silver ones were worth six silver Obols, and the gold ones, ten. A gold Obol was worth two silver. Jason smiled at the receptionist, then went and took a pair of folded white linens from a stack by the wall and entered the locker rooms. He undressed and wrapped one of the linens around his bare waist, stowing his tunic and other items inside a small cubby and tossing the other towel casually over his shoulder.
  
Just then Holly walked up and tapped my shoulder. "I don't like this. Something's wrong." She whispered quietly.  
+
Jason entered the steamy, humid sweat room and relaxed on a wooden bench, shutting his eyes for a while before he entered the next room, which was a long, salted pool.
  
And then the world exploded. I had just enough time to hug Holly close to me and raise my arm, casting a reflexive telekinetic field around my crew, Carter, and Morrison, before we were enveloped in fire. I remember mentally straining back against the enormous pressure trying to penetrate my shield, and then it broke. Holly and I were thrown back, but I blacked out as we came into violent contact with a solid marble object. So much for psichological powers.
+
Jason left half an hour later, putting his used linens in a basket after getting dressed.
  
 +
It was about 5:00.
  
 +
Jason walked out the door of the bath houses. He was surprised to find it dark and stormy outside, the ocean lapping against the strong metal and stone rings. No matter. They would just raise the storm shield, which was basically just another big ring 10 stadium out from the industrial ring that could be raised and lowered to deflect waves and winds. It was made from titanium and steel, and was attached to the ocean floor by paired metal struts. This was done in order to give the walls a little bit of give while maintaining integrity, unlike the regular rings, which were just attached to the ocean floor 100 feet below with strong, metal-laced cables. When it wasn't raining, diving to the sea floor was a popular form of recreation for the more active citizens.
  
 +
Jason boarded the next train at the station and headed back for home.
  
  
  
 +
Jason let himself into his house, not even needing a key. For one, his mother was home, since her sandals were tucked neatly into a corner by the door. And two, they had only one simple lock on all the doors. Crime rate at the heart of Atlantis: zero. Though they had an extensive system of courts and police enforcers, most criminals came from beyond the city shields.
  
 +
Jason pulled the handle and the doors glided open on oiled hinges without even a creak. He knocked his knuckles against it twice anyways, to let his mom know he was here.
  
 +
"Hey sweetie," His mom said brightly. "How was school?" Jason gave the usual answers as to what was for lunch, how his classes had gone, what was new with his friends, etc.
  
 +
"Well, your father will be home shortly. He's working late again down at the Palace, trying to secure the funds for a new temple down in the Middle Ring. King Juliius supports it, but the Council and the Senate are in a bidding war over it. Politics." She finished with a slight huff.
  
 +
Jason well knew what kind of politics could be entangling his father. This stuff could take months to sort out.
  
 +
"Anything in the freezer?" Jason asked.
  
 +
"There're a couple of Nectars, I think. If you're hungry, I can cut you some pork and dish up some fruit,"
  
 +
"Sounds good."
  
 +
"Any homework?"
  
 +
"Nah. Did it all during after-hours."
  
 +
"Dinner'll be ready in about twenty minutes if you wanted to go outside for a while."
  
 +
"Twenty minutes. Got it. I think I'll go practice in the courtyard."
  
 +
Jason found his older and younger brothers both in the courtyard, dueling with wooden staffs. His younger brother was 13 and his older brother 16, yet it was a pretty even match. His younger brother was built tall and solid, and his older brother was thinner, lanky, and coordinated, but not quite as strong. Daedalus compensated with strategy and applying force to key vulnerable areas, which made up for more than his lack of strength. He was the braniac of the family. Brutus was the athlete. And Jason was in between.
  
 +
"Brutus!" Jason called in a deep voice. His younger brother, Brutus, was momentarily startled, and Daedalus took advantage of his brother's lapse to give him a good whack on the thigh, then to the back, then back to the leg to trip him up and topple him.
  
 +
"No fair!" Was the instant yell from the prostrate Brutus.
  
 +
"A good warrior must learn to block out all distraction." Daedalus said, using his best wise-old-sage voice.
  
 +
"Yeah, well I'll tell you what. A good warrior also needs to bulk up a bit, Daedalus." Brutus said hotly.
  
'''11:46 Hours, Military Clock, June 18, 2010, Daytona Beach, Florida, USA'''
+
"Your words speak wisdom beyond your years, Master Brutus." Daedalus said, repeating the voice. That was another thing. Daedalus could mimic sounds to near perfection. It was uncanny.
  
 +
"Ha ha. I'm sure you wouldn't mind a go with Jason, based on your canny retorts."
  
Scarlett Miller was bored.
+
Daedalus lost his mocking tone, the grin wiped off his face. The last time he had fought Jason, he had ended up with his tunic over his head and his sandals laced together and tossed into a bush.
  
 +
Brutus tossed his staff to Jason, who caught it out of the air. Jason twirled it once around his body so he was holding it suitably, then launched an opening strike, which Daedalus deflected, twisting his own staff both to cushion the blow and to toss Jason off balance. Jason compensated, then whipped the other end of the staff around. Daedalus was expecting it, but the blow was simply too strong for Daedalus, and Jason levered Daedalus's staff out of his hands with his own staff.
  
Bored and annoyed. The water was way too cold for June. Even the sun seemed more chilled than usual. June here was supposed to be sweltering. But she had come down anyways. After all, there wasn't much else to do in Daytona, besides a lot of mini-golf courses. She popped the lid on a coke, the can hissing with escaping gas. She glanced over to her right at where Matt Kenderson was sitting, reading a book and drinking a Pepsi.
+
Daedalus bent to retrieve it, but stopped when Jason's staff halted an inch from his neck.
  
They had come down together with Holly Dayne and Jack Stephens, four 14-year old adolescent friends on a vacation. Holly was walking a ways down the beach, and Jack was messing around with his laptop on the other side of Matt.
+
"Not bad. You're getting better, at least." Jason said. Brutus was rolling on the floor cackling at his brother, while Jason, with a little more tact, was suppressing a grin.
  
She raised the can to her lips to take a sip right as the two strangers appeared.
+
"So, that only took you what, half a second?" Brutus cackled.
  
In hindsight, the two Suits were good. They were invisible, despite their conspicuous clothing, until they appeared at Matt's shoulder. Scar instantly smelled bad news. No one wore suits to a beach, except for, like, weddings and other stuff like that. Scar wrinkled her nose. This wasn't gonna end well.
+
"Brutus, you're next." Jason interrupted, which ended the humorless laughs.
  
Of course Matt didn't realize until half a second later than it happened, being a guy, but the younger Suit started fidgeting with his coat, his fingers brushing the inside of jacket, where a curious bulge protruded from the... oh no.
 
  
Scar was already half out of her seat when the older Suit growled, "Come with us. Now."
 
  
Matt shook his head, then it suddenly dawned on him that these two schmucks weren't here to give him cookies and milk. He vaulted out of his seat, his Pepsi flying. The Suits tensed and drew handguns from their jackets. They fired at Matt, but their opening shots were wide. Matt's older half brother was now sprinting for the shore, and Scar decided that it was time to act as well when two Suits emerged behind her and let loose two darts of their own. She jumped from the chair like a spring, at the same time catapulting her seat at the two Suits and buying her maybe three seconds to prepare.
+
At 7:00 exactly, Jason walked up to the big castle-like Middle Education Facility, both his brothers in tow. Herakles was waiting for Jason at the penthouse gates. The entire education facility was built like a castle; indeed, the original design was for some bygone Phoenix King and his army. It was a fortress built for comfort, with a hundred rooms that had been converted into classrooms. The soft, natural lighting by day, complimented by the occasional mirror-amplified gas lanterns, was easy on the vision, and the darker, earth-tone colors in the flooring and walls were meant to relax the eye.
  
Holly came sprinting in from the North, but she was still a ways away and wouldn't arrive for two minutes. By then it would be too late.
+
The whole school was beautifully lit with hybrid gas-and-oil lanterns. It took five minutes for Jason, Heracles, Daedalus, and Brutus to get to the PhysEd building, one of the rounded towers next to the main Keep. Once they were there they changed out of their red-and-gold tunics and donned realistic, if smaller, sets of battle armor worn by the standard infantry in the front lines.
  
Scar ran towards the Suit closest to her, which was also the one with his handgun caught in his jacket. Amateur.
+
Jason slipped on his chain-mail hauberk over a special padded tunic, cinching it at the waist with a small, thin strap of leather, and a soft coif went on his head. Next a bright red-and-gold tunic over his mail and pads, decorated with a simple Phoenix design signaling him as one of the standard infantry, then came the heavy armor plates used in combat. The males were to wear black titanium trimmed with orichalcum, a silverish-gold metal that was both decorational and extremely protective. It was the hardest substance known to Atlantis, and was found only on the one continent.
  
He struggled to bring the weapon around even as his partner fired three more shots, but then Scar was next to him. She was an accomplished Karate student and had a talent for making up techniques on the fly. The government guy had no chance.
+
"Whoa, Hannon, got enough weapons there?" Jason asked. Inevitably, there was always one guy who went crazy and packed as many weapons as he could carry on his back. Hannon was currently decked out with a short sword and long dagger as his secondaries, a Battle Axe across his back, on top of which rested two medium-length, medium range carbines with 15-round drums, and a Halbred as his main weapon. Plus Armor. "Can You even move?"
  
Scar spun around, executing a picture-perfect 360 kick, only to find that her lethal blow was caught in the Suit's hand. He had abandoned his gun for now, and was instead about to beat the crap out of her. Probably not her greatest idea.
+
Hannon picked up a Legionary square shield. "All set, guys."
  
She back-tracked fast, jumping and kicking with the other foot. It caught the man in his double chin, and he let go out of instinct. She landed on all fours and scrambled away, throwing sand behind her as the second Suit tried to follow.
+
The armor was extremely expensive but extremely protective, due to the hard nature of the metal and the pads he wore underneath. Jason, and the rest of the soldiers, could take four arrows to the chest and keep running, fighting. Sword blades would glance off the sides, as the armor had angled edges to deflect blows.
  
The Suits came after her, and she realized there really was no way she could win this. If she got in close, they'd go hand-to-hand, and eventually with two on one, they'd win. If she backed off, they'd just draw their handguns and turn her into Swiss Scarlett Cheese.
+
However, that was all well and good against regular blades, but the standard Atlantian blades were made of polished, reinforced obsidian that cut through most armor like butter. But not the practice blades, so if you hit something, you pretty much had to rely on the debilitating bruises from a steel weapon taking the target out.
  
It might have just been that she was weird, but she opted to have a slight chance, and she dove back into the fray. The Suit who had gotten his gun stuck in his jacket had finally freed it, but by the time he brought it around, Scar was next to him again, and this time she gave no mercy. She lashed out in a straight-regular kick that hit the man between his legs. He gave a funny, ungraceful hop as the foot connected, but Scar felt protective plastic instead of flesh, and the man wrapped her in his enormous bear-arms and started choking her.
+
On his head went a metal helm with a crest that ran down the bridge of his nose to stop just above his upper lip. Trimmed with orichalcum edges, it was one of the most valuable pieces of the armor next to the breastplate.
  
Then Jack was next to her and chopped the Suit in the kidney. Holly was struggling with her two Suits as well, but she was cleverly baiting them closer and closer... then she made a break for the road and the hotels, in plain sight of dozens of witnesses and cameras. One of the men dove for her, but they only succeeded in clawing off her jacket.
+
Next for arms. Using a sharpened metal blade would have been fun, but it would be too easy to accidentally kill somebody. That wouldn't be good. So Jason strapped a solid, extremely dulled practice blade to his waist and grabbed a figure-eight body shield in one hand, grasping a blunt-headed spear in the other. He tucked a small handgun into his belt.
  
Scar's Suit let go as Jack took out his knees, but all that accomplished was the second, blond suit charging forward and smacking Jack across the head. Jack fell, and Scar realized she might have to take after Holly and escape into the city. But that would mean leaving Matt behind, which was something she wouldn't do. Not willingly, at least. But she knew what Matt would say, that she was being stupid and that she had a chance to get out and save them both.
+
The arena had a scheduled small-scale ship-to-ship engagement mockup enactment that was written down to begin at 20:00 hours. Five minutes.
  
So which should she choose? The smart way, or the right way?
+
Jason and Herakles trooped out the door to the arena with the rest of the crew, where several other kids were mulling around. The arena had been set up with to look like two separate ships, and it looked real. Jason and Heracles joined the blue team, as they had donned the blue team armor. Daedalus was already out in the midst of the blue ranks. Brutus joined the red team in a fit of rebellion against Jason and Daedalus.
  
Then Matt mentally probed her consciousness. They knew each-other's by heart, and in the car-ride down from Georgia they had practiced their telepathy the whole way. She could feel his anger, anxiety for her and the rest of the crew... but also fear. Matt's mind was tangled and she didn't have the time to sort it all out.  
+
The red team on the opposite side of a large, circular penned-in area raised a banner. A phoenix was artistically printed onto the red cloth. Blue team raised their own standard. An azure banner with a stylized image of Father Poseidon and the Kraken, which they planted at the helm of their 'ship'. The goal was to capture the other team's standard.
  
''Go, I've got something planned, but I need you off the beach. Tell Holly and Jack that we'll meet up at the racetrack once we lose our tails,'' He spoke in her mind.
+
At 20:00 exactly, large mirrored lights lit up and a horn blew somewhere, someone yelled, "Team, stand by to repel borders!" and the two opposing sides crashed together. Three "crows," or gangplanks, extended between the two ships over a gap of about eight feet, and the red team swarmed to board with a many-voiced yell. Several grabbed lines attached to fake riggings and swung across. Below was a startling drop of twelve feet into a shallow pool about waist height that opened at the end of the game to let anyone who had been knocked down out.
  
''Alright, but if you're not there in an hour I'm coming back for you, no matter how many creeps are in the way. Holly and Jack will, too.'' Scar replied.
+
Jason didn't hurl his javelin off like some of the other blue-team members at the oncoming reds swinging across; instead, he waited for one to throw a javelin at him before he launched his at the Red in a counter-attack.
  
With a final anguished glance, Scar spun, kicked the Suit in the diaphragm, and grabbed Jack's shirt collar, yanking him off the beach. He had been right in the middle of a roundhouse punch, and he looked disappointed that he hadn't gotten the chance to deliver it to the creep Suit. Scar agreed.
+
The Red caught Jason's javelin on a torso-sized metal Legionary shield, and Jason had no problem deflecting the Red's spear with his full-body figure eight shield. Jason retrieved the fallen spear and charged the Red, who was still balanced on the rail of the ship a little precariously. The man caught Jason's blow on his shield, but he was driven back, and without anywhere else to step, he fell into the pool below.
  
Jack gave a whine when he saw his laptop sitting in the sand, but it was too late for that now. Scar dragged him to the ramp that led up to their condo. The two Suits fired again and again, chasing after her and Jack, but every round hit either the wooden rail or the concrete behind them.
+
Then Jason was striving to block a sword slash from another Red until Herakles appeared by the Red's arm and gave a solid boot to the Red's chest. The Red went flying, and Jason lashed out with his spear, holding it in the narrow lip of his figure-eight shield. A Red blocked it, countered, but Jason feinted right and then whipped the spear left, hitting the Red with the butt of the spear.
  
Scar ducked nevertheless, but then she and Jack made it to the top of the ramp. Startled beach-goers rushed around in utter confusion, and Scar pushed a path to the condo. Jack followed not far behind, but neither did the Suits.
+
The Red was hit in the back as Jason stabbed out again with the blunt-headed spear. He was nailed to the deck with Jason's foot until he surrendered and submitted. Jason tagged him with a patch of blue dye on his helm, signaling that he was 'dead'. Then he ducked behind his massive metal shield as another sword slashed out of nowhere.
  
Scar reached the entrance to the parking lot just as three black cars rolled in at each side. Suits piled out, and not far behind them was the inexorable wail of police and SWAT sirens. Jack looked at her, said, "Lose the tails, meet up at the bookstore?"
+
He parried automatically with the shaft of the spear, lunged, fell back, and then lunged again, the dull head nailing the Red in his shoulder. Even with a sharp blade, the Red would have still been able to fight unhampered, because the armor had a large shoulder-plate to protect against just such a move. The look of shock and mild pain that came with getting dead-armed, though, was worth it.
  
"Sounds like a plan." Scar answered lightly, all the time staring at the Suits aiming real handguns at them. Scar and Jack split up and ran for cover just as bullets tore up the asphalt at their feet, Jack diving towards the condo, Scar back towards another condo on the opposite side that was under construction. Jack dodged around a car that chased him down and rolled under the parking garage door just as it closed. The black Mercedes didn't stop, but smashed right through the thin aluminum sheet and tilted over too far; the driver misjudged the angle of impact. The car hung in the air for a half-second, then flipped end over end. Jack sprinted for the door to the lobby. It was locked, but with as much adrenaline as he had right now, the simple metal padlock stood no chance.
+
Jason whipped his shield forward and hit the Red in the mouth. He spit up blood from a cut tongue and charged angrily towards Jason. Jason sidestepped and bashed the Red with his shield again, sending him down and out.
  
Jack smashed it with his heel, it clanged and twisted. He grabbed it, yanked, and the metal came right off. The rest of the parking garage was filled with discordant horn-blaring vacationers, all of which attempted to scatter as three Suits climbed out of the damaged car and opened fire. One of them had somehow gotten a rifle out of the burning car, and the deafening three-round burst that followed only hurried Jack on his way. He slammed the door shut behind him and ran for the stairs. In the elevator, they could lock him between floors and flush him out with a single explosive or other gun. So he hustled up the stairs, taking them two at a time. His lungs burned, his legs were on fire, and his head throbbed in rhythm with his pounding heart.
+
On the opposite ship, a Red took aim through a revolving seven-shot rifle and plugged off three large shots at Jason.
  
He reached the fifth floor, and saw that the Police had arrived, along with a heavily armed and armored division of SWAT. Good. If he was arrested by the SWAT or Police, they wouldn't be able to do a thing. Once he was in their custody, they'd have to follow the laws and let him loose, because he hadn't knowingly committed a crime. At least, not anything that would draw out as a government offense, and certainly nothing traceable. So what if he'd downloaded a few songs onto his iPhone?
+
The shots were simple blobs of congealed paint. They hurt when they hit, but not as much as a real bullet. Jason ducked behind his shield, his arm shuddering with each impact, then hurled his spear at the shooter, making contact with the rifleman's hip.
  
Jack waved, calling out to the Police. In answer, a sniper round dug a chunk out of the wall by his head. They thought he was the badguy!
+
The riflemen wore similar armor to the infantry, but the plates weren't as large, and the helm not as elaborate. The dull spear found a weak point in the leg armor and toppled the rifleman, who was dispatched by another Blue.
  
Just as that realization took him, two Suits burst out onto the balcony where he was standing. Rather than fight them and give the sniper another chance to splatter his brains against the ground, Jack turned and fled around the corner and jumped onto one of the condo balconies. Fortunately vacant.
+
But one problem. Now Jason was spearless, and his figure-eight body shield wasn't practical for sword-fighting.
  
The two Suits followed, and Jack fled into the condo itself. He hid just around the entrance from the sliding glass door, and took out the first Suit that ran past. One shot to the knee, another to the kidney, and the Suit was on the ground. Jack kicked his face; payback for his laptop. It had all his cool designs on it. He was working on a kind of armor that used hydrostatic impact gel to absorb shock from a bullet-proof ceramic shell. He'd also been working on a kind of thruster pack for his armor, which would give the user a jet-assisted jump 10 feet in the air. It also worked in water.
+
Jason cast off his body shield after weathering another barrage of shots and drew his dull obsidian longsword with both hands. He crossed one of the gang-planks, mentally switching from defensive to offensive warfare as he shoved a Red dueling a Blue over the side.
  
And now these losers had it.
+
A Red was crouched behind a body shield with a spear in his other hand, just as Jason had been. Jason approached from the man's left, the side he was carrying his shield on. The heavy piece of metal blocked the Red's view, and he didn't see Jason pop up next to him, take out his knee from behind, and 'skewer' him with a sword. Jason drove the dull metal into the Red's gut, stuck the guy with a dye-patch, and moved on to the next soldier.
  
Jack kicked the next Suit to come in, but this guy was ready, and he caught Jack's leg. Jack wasn't deterred, instead he jumped and clocked the Suit with the other toe. That would teach him not to underestimate a teenager again.
+
Herakles was fighting three at once. Jason leaped up out of nowhere and stuck one under the armpit with his sword, ducked under a blow from the second, and swung a double-handed uppercut to the third. It hit the helm and sent the man flying. Herakles took out the second while he was standing on the first with his boot.
  
The first Suit had gotten on his feet again, he dove at Jack. Jack sidestepped, but the man had been expecting it. A huge, meaty arm shot out and grabbed Jack's neck, crushing the life from him. Not good. He couldn't win this fight. Jack kicked the man in the face, once, twice, but he refused to let go. Jack twisted the huge hand so it faced him palm-up, and he took a moment to find the nerve-point in the wrist. Jack yelled and smashed his hand against the man's artery. The hand relaxed, and before the other hand could come in, Jack fell to the ground and rolled under it. He kicked the Suit in the small of his back, and fled after the other Suit came back to do some damage.
+
A swarm of reinforcements leaped up from the opposite side of the ship, leaving Jason and Herakles in a bad spot for a second, until Hannon appeared out of nowhere, holding one of his carbines in each hand and strafed the whole group. While the half that weren't tagged in the chest or head recovered from behind their shields, Daedalus materialized and stuck two before engaging the third in a spirited duel.
  
Jack sprinted through the door to a well-lit, open hallway, the smell of sea air heavy in his face. The Suits followed, one yelling at his wrist for backup. Hidden microphone. Two Suits burst from the elevator doors. Oops. So much for Jack's plan.
+
They threw dye-patches on all three, then moved on, Herakles with a double-handed flamberge and Jason with his hand-and-a-half longsword. Heracles advanced in front of Jason, drawing the fire of the rifle and pikemen holding a defensive wall at the edge of the ship.
  
The stairs and elevator were blocked, the way he had come was also not an option, so Jack took the only one left.
+
With his scalloped flamberge, Heracles chopped the heads off of any spear or halbred that came too close. Jason followed close behind, fending off the scores of Reds that assaulted him. The Blue riflemen on the opposite ship opened a volley, sinking entire lines of Reds. Retaliatory fire chipped at the bulwarks and rails, but the line of Blue riflemen had taken cover and managed to avoid the worst of the volley.
  
He bailed over the side.
+
Most of the school had turned out for the match. Jason grinned as he saw a thirteen-year-old red swordsman swept away by a huge blue fifteen year old. Herakles batted aside a line of pikes, and Jason charged through the gap, slashing, parrying, stabbing, and jumping out of the way.
  
Five floors up, and Jack fell all of them. The bricks below looked solid. A SWAT helicopter hovered above the building, and six heavily armed SWAT troopers fast-roped on rappel lines. Police cars blockaded the parking lot, which was enclosed on three sides by the hotel itself. More police swarmed the condo complex and started evacuating the people within. Jack realized none of this as he hurtled to the Earth at a million miles an hour, finally landing on the ground below.
+
Fake cannon roared beneath the decks and on the forecastles of both ships, flinging larger balls of paint at soldiers. Blues scattered as the cannon raked their lines, and the Reds scrambled for cover as at least three went down with their chests covered in blue paint.
  
The impact nearly killed him.
+
Jason grunted as someone behind him took out his knee with a well-placed kick, making him collapse. On the ground, Jason could do little against an attacking foe. The Red that had clipped him advanced. Jason yanked his secondary obsidian dagger from the sheath on his side, surprising his attacker and slashing across the Red's greaves. Jason withdrew into a half-crouch, bracing himself and holding his dagger high, backhanded.
  
All air was knocked from his body. His legs were pulverized, and his bones felt like molten iron in his skin. He rolled, but it did nothing to help him. The police swarmed his body and had him in cuffs before he could even moan from the pain.
+
A squad of Blues swarmed the attacking Red, at least five spears thrusting forward and a good other four broadswords. Jason holstered his dagger as one of the Blues tossed an extra spear to him. Jason caught it and parried a longsword stab, whipping the weighted butt end around and under a plate of the armor on the thigh. The Red staggered, and Jason took him out with a downward stab. The rest of the battlefield continued apace, with crowds of spectators in the stands surrounding alternately moaning and cheering out loud as the blue team swarmed the Phoenix decks.
  
Things got blurry and fuzzed out for maybe two minutes, but when he woke, more than half the police were gone and the SWAT chopper was nowhere to be seen. He was leaning against the hood of a police cruiser, and two burly officers argued next to him with a collection of maybe four Suits. Jack couldn't tell. Things were still too fuzzy, and his heart raced. His face burned with humiliation. What had he done that was so wrong, these men had felt the need to kill him?
+
The Reds were pushed back up onto the forecastle, which also housed the flag. They fought all the harder as they were pushed back farther and farther. The winner of the engagement got instant bragging rights and won free of a week's KP duty in the student's mess.
  
Things fuzzed out again for thirty seconds or so, and when he again awoke the Suits were standing not two feet from the senior police officer. Spittle flew from his heated cheeks and his grayish ginger hair was standing on end like a rooster's. Jack slid to the ground, but no one seemed to notice. The men were screaming at the top of their lungs, but Jack still couldn't hear what they were saying, and the muted yells felt too distant. He hoped his ears weren't permanently damaged. But Jack got an idea from his lack of attention.
+
Long, sturdy pikes were brought out from a small arm's room housed on the deck specifically for that purpose, proving much more effective from a higher point, defensively blocking two small staircases that served as chokepoints. Body shields were passed out to the pikemen and five-barreled “volley guns” were passed out. The guns were much shorter than the standard seven-shot rifles, but they were much more powerful at close range and held two shots per barrel.
  
His legs still felt like the were on fire. He probably had broken his ankle at the very least. Despite that, he had to get away. Jack felt hot, thick tears at his face as he thought about what might have happened to Scar, Holly, and Matt. That, along with his physical pain, almost destroyed him.
+
Jason snatched a revolving rifle from a Blue's “corpse” and emptied the rest of the tube, plugging off five shots at the defenders, causing them to lay aside their pikes for a moment and duck under their shields, winning the Blues valiantly charging up the stairs a second's distraction. Herakles was in the thick of the mess, using his flameberge to lop off the heads of pikes. Blues were swarming the ship's rigging and spars, climbing to a higher elevation for maximum effect with their rifles.
  
He still had to go on.
+
If it had been a real engagement, likely both opposing sides would have been tossing ceramic jars of oily napalm at each-other's ship, and the captains would have been dueling in the center. As it was, several of the Blue swordsmen were duking it out with as many Reds, viscously hacking and slashing.
  
Jack sucked in a breath and got ready to ignore a whole lot of pain, cause he was gonna have to hump it all the way to the bookstore, and then to the racetrack. But first he had to escape custody.
+
A knot of Red pikemen guarding the stairs collapsed; Heracles had been leading the shove to push them out, engaging hilt-to-hilt in a titanic shoving match, with the other Blues behind him shoving against the Red's by pressing Heracles with their shields. One Red's leg buckled after Jason's burst of shots, and the rest of the group soon followed suit.
  
As the men argued their inaudible battle, Jack simply collapsed onto the asphalt, subtly inching himself farther and farther under the cruiser. After a minute or two of carefully, painfully slithering, Jack rolled onto his feet and darted forward.
+
The Blues broke through onto the forecastle, swarming the deck and pushing the defenders back to the standard, which was raised partway at the very tip of the ship.
  
The pain instantly lanced him his left leg, and one of the Suits noticed his escape. He called out to the others, who instantly pushed the police out of the way and gave chase. Yep. Probably dead.
+
Jason cast aside his rifle and followed the swarm of Blues, nodding at Daedalus as they passed eachother. Brutus was currently running around madly trying to cut down the Blue offenders with an axe, and was succeeding to a point in that none came to attack him. Daedalus fixed that as he splattered Brutus's chest with a couple shots to weaken him, then went in with his own sword.
  
Jack payed them no attention. Not when it was needed elsewhere, namely not tripping on anything. It could mean death if he did.
+
The Red sharpshooters in the tops fired again and again, mercilessly taking down groups of Blues, but just as many Blue riflemen returned fire and took out half the Red sharpshooters in one volley.
  
Yeah, it was gonna be a long stroll.
+
Jason charged ahead, swinging his sword one way and then the next, delivering crippling blows left and right to be finished off a second later by the other Blues in their unstoppable charge.
  
 +
The last few defenders were cut away from the flag. Heracles grabbed the rough, wooden flagpole. Now the only problem was getting back to the Blue ship.
  
 +
The assembled Reds knew it wasn't done yet. They turned and now blocked the Blues from coming in the opposite direction, holding them off with pikes, spears, swords, any other weapon available. The sharpshooters focused their shots on Heracles and Jason as the ring-leaders. A body shield was hurriedly thrust into Jason's arm, and he covered Heracles, who was likewise outfitted. Heracles had snapped the eight foot tall pole in half and slung it in his sword sheath so as to have his hands free. He traded out his flameberge for a eight-shot officer's pistol lying on the ground.
  
Scar waited anxiously at the bookstore. She had wanted to stay and help Jack, but three Suits had tailed her, and when she got out into the open a sniper had nearly taken off her head. It just wasn't fair! How come they got rifles and handguns and snipers and helicopters and SWAT backup? What'd she get? Nothing! Only what she could scrounge off the bodies of anyone she'd happened to subdue.
+
Jason holstered his sword and grabbed a larger, more powerful five-shot handgun. The remaining Blues herded themselves around Jason and Heracles, protecting their heroes. Pikes and swords were cut back and knocked aside. Charging reds were redirected over the sides. There was no way anyone could stop them.
  
Scar checked that the lone sidearm she'd pulled off one of the guys was still there, tucked into the waistband of her athletic shorts and covered by her swimsuit.
+
Cannon roared on either side. The gun-crews below decks were manning realistic shooters that fired blobs of hardened paint instead of cannon-balls or shot. At the moment, the Red gun-crew was attempting to surge up through the trap-doors in the deck, but the Blue forces hurriedly shoved boxes and nets of spare cannon balls and other equipment over the doors.
  
Where was Jack? After she'd lost her tails in the construction block, police had still been waddling around the building Jack had fled to. She hadn't heard anything since they'd split. Her mind was going a million miles an hour, and cold sweat ran down her back. It had nothing to do with temperature.
+
They were home free! Jason could see the crow that would take them back across. This was it.
  
She cast out with her mind, extending her consciousness into the surrounding parking lot. A rat nibbling on a piece of... something, in a corner, a bird high above, and a couple people in the store behind her. That was it. No Jack, nor Matt, nor even Holly. Just her. She resigned herself to wait. What else was there to do?
+
Suddenly the trap door closest to the crow burst open, shoving off a squad of Blues caught in the way and tripping several others, who were immediately hammered into submission. A tidal fury of Red soldiers swarmed out, hefting one-hand axes and daggers. Under their furious onslaught, the Blues around Jason and Heracles fell to the floor and were trampled.
  
After what felt like ages, Jack appeared between two buildings. But her first clue had been the sirens, which had begun screaming five minutes earlier, growing steadily until Jack darted out from behind an alley and sprinted awkwardly for her. He was running at maybe 10 miles an hour, and no cars could follow him through the alley, but the Suits had brought backup. Two slick Mercedes rolled to a stop in front of the alley, followed by a stretch limo.
+
Jason barely aimed before he pulled the trigger, and watched as the Red barely an arm's length away jerked backwards and fell. He emptied the pistol and chucked it at the next Red, but he easily dodged it and jabbed with his sword.
  
Scar had the gun in her hand instantly. The gun was molded to fit the average adult's hand, which was nowhere near her size. But it was straightforward enough; point at the target and pull the trigger. Point and shoot.
+
Jason fell backed, shocked. He had been hit. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, the soldiers around him pushing and shoving in a half-speed beat. He gazed up at the smug look of the Red soldier who stabbed him. He could feel the sword, lodged against the joint between his chest and shoulder. The dull point dug into his arm. Even as he watched, the Red leaned against the blade and turned it 90 degrees to the right. He couldn't believe this. He had lost.
  
Suits piled out of the cars. Only, hullo, these weren't the regular Suits. These guys wore sharp black Tuxedos, as if that would be any help in a firefight. They drew weapons, but they weren't the normal handguns. They were shiny silver .50 cal magnums. Who were these Yahoos?
+
Herakles glanced down with a look of disbelief. Jason gritted his teeth, and on the ground ripped his dagger out of its sheath, surprising the Red soldier and cutting him across his breastplate. The Red stumbled, and Jason took his last kill of the day, slashing the Red's helmet. After a moment, three shots rang out, and as many bullets cut right into Jason's chest. Not even Atlantian armor could protect against that, and although he could have gotten up and started fighting again, it would have been against the sacred school law and he would not further disgrace himself by cheating.  
  
Jack saw the change of equipment and immediately decided he didn't need to find out if what those new magnums shot hurt.
+
Jason lay his head back and rested as the struggle continued. It was over.
  
Jack ducked into a doorway, tucking his head into his shoulder and ramming against the wooden frame. The door creaked and gave, and Jack slammed it behind him. One Tux followed, trailed by three Regulars. The rest went to surround the rest of the building. Scar ran forward and pulled the trigger half a dozen times. All she heard were irritating clicks. What was wrong? Was the gun jammed?
+
One by one the Blue defenders succumbed to the onslaught of Red reinforcements. Several of the braver few Reds had crawled over to the Blue forecastle and grabbed the Blue standard, and now swarms of Red reinforcements were crawling over to assist their heroic squad.
  
No matter, she had to help Jack. She ran and made a rather stupid decision; she attacked the lead Tux.
+
A Red stuck a dye-patch on Jason's chest. The Blue flag was brought aboard the Red ship almost immediately afterwards, and the Reds were announced victorious.
  
She ran up from behind, her feet making no noise on the pavement. When she was three feet away, she jumped and used the energy to fuel a flying kick aimed at the base of the Tux's spine.
 
  
Uh, but the Tux wasn't their anymore. He had dodged out of the way. The sheer speed of his movements told Scar that she was stuck with an enemy that was way out of her league.
 
  
Scar was still clutching the handgun, and her thoughts echoed back to something Matt had said when they were eating lunch, debating weapons with Jack. They'd been talking about something like single or double action shots? And that some handguns had a function where it couldn't be shot until a hammer or something was manually cocked?
+
Jason closed his eyes and let the hot water stream down his face and onto his shoulders. Herakles and the rest of the Blues filled the shower stalls around him.
  
Scar's thumb instinctively found the cocking hammer on the Glock modern handgun and pulled it back. The gun gave a metallic, satisfying click as a bullet was fed into the chamber.
+
Another blessing of Atlantian technology, Jason and everyone else on the island continent could enjoy indoor plumbing and heating. It was simple, really. Aqueducts drew the water from the surrounding mountain reservoirs and tributaries, then funneled it all down to special pump control nodes, which used either burning coals or gas to heat the water to a lukewarm temperature before pumping it through underground pipelines and from there into homes, schools, and any other building that had a restroom.
  
The Tux appeared behind her; Scar felt more than saw him. She twisted around and fell back, pulling the trigger as fast as her hand would react. It didn't help, because the handgun was an automatic that held fifteen rounds. One, two, three, four shots jumped out of the gun as she fell, dodging a lethal foot. Two of those rounds hit the Tux. Both in the gut.
+
For showers, further heating took place directly at the showerhead, which used a tank of gas that was housed inside the shower stall. The temperature could be adjusted by tampering with the flow of gas from the tank. Right now, Jason had it turned up to the max, the water steaming as it hit the air, and the flow turned on full blast.
  
The Tux grunted and wheezed, bending over, but gave no other signs of the shot hitting anything. Four Regulars flanked him, and Scar knew she was in trouble.
+
There went his reputation of never having lost.
 +
----
 +
Next Chapter: [[Atlantis Rising: Chapter 3]]
  
The Tux darted forward, his pale face blank, and struck Scar in the side of the head. She wheeled around, certain that she was about to die.
+
Homepage: [[Atlantis]]
 
+
 
+
 
+
Holly wasn't having a great day. It hard started out nice, strolling along the beach and hanging out with her friends. Then the idiot Suits turned up and ruined everything.
+
 
+
Holly dashed in between tables, knocking over heavily-laden waiters and flipping tables, anything to stall the three Suits that trailed her. They'd called for backup, and so Holly took the next right down a side-alley and forced all the pursuing cars to stop and go back around. More Suits trailed her now; at least six.
+
 
+
Holly's lungs burned from constant exercise, and she was drenched in sweat. It was the middle of June. Her head throbbed in unison with her pounding feet, and her flip-flops just weren't cutting it for the kind of running she was doing, so her bare feet ached and stung. On top of all that, she had no idea where she was going or what to do. These guys seemed to be in league with the Police and everything, so she'd be dead anyway she went in that direction. She couldn't run forever. She had to lose these guys, fast.
+
 
+
Without warning, Holly swung a left and disappeared down another alley clothed in darkness. The Suits followed her, but without NVG's they couldn't do much to see her. On the other hand, Holly thought around the pain of stubbing her toe against a dumpster, I can't see much either.
+
 
+
The dim outline of a fire escape ladder came as a welcome relief. She jumped onto the first rung and reached hand-over hand to the next platform.
+
 
+
Two Suits halted at the bottom of the stairs and clicked off shots from their handguns. Not even the wimpy dart-guns, these were real sidearms. They could hurt. They could kill.
+
 
+
Shots rang and struck the metal railing. Dementedly, Holly found herself imagining that she was Neo in the Matrix. The parabolic chase was too coincidental to ignore. Holly reached the top of the top of the building and fled along the top of the roof. Before the Suits reached the top as well, Holly jumped over the side, three stories down. And on top of everything else, she was mildly afraid of heights.
+
 
+
The fall was over as quickly as it had begun, and Holly was thrown into a dumpster full of trash bags. It smelled great.
+
 
+
She buried herself beneath a couple bags, trying not to gag from the smell, and waited while the Suits thundered around, extremely pissed that they had lost her.
+
 
+
A curse echoed around on the building above her. One of the Suits yelled at another guy, screaming that it was all his fault, and if they'd sent in a helicopter like he'd said, they'd live to tell their boss. One of them spit into the dumpster and followed the wad of saliva with a shot from his sidearm, completely accidentally almost hitting Holly, who struggled not to jump in surprise.
+
 
+
Holly lay in the trash bin until the men left, and she waited three minutes to make sure they were really gone before the smell of the trash got the better of her. She vaulted out of the bin.
+
 
+
Five minutes later, she was back on the main road, running towards the sound of sirens. Interestingly, they didn't go off towards the race-track, like she'd thought, but in the general direction of a Borders bookstore that Matt had dragged them all to at least a dozen times before. Sure enough, Holly saw three slick black cars roving off in the direction of the sirens. Only these weren't the Mercedes E500 type, like before. These were stretch limos with heavily tinted windows. The tires looked suspiciously thick for that type of vehicle, but besides that, there were no tell-tale signs of any re-vamped equipment on the car.
+
 
+
Holly chased after it, dumping some poor biker off his wheels. With the borrowed bike, she quickly made her way after the limo, keeping pace, gaining a little ground at every intersection. The limo lacked sirens to part the flow of traffic, but the motorbike could weave in and out between cars. Eventually in one intersection, Holly revved the engine, feeling the throaty hum of the engine, and shot through the crowded space into oncoming traffic, nearly wiping out against an unforgiving hood of a car. The bike was way too large for her, and the constant purring vibration from the motor relaxed her grip slightly despite her best efforts.
+
 
+
By now the limo had to have known that the bike was tailing them. Sure enough, a few moments later, the limo slowed, the sun roof popped open, and a well-dressed man with a gun stood up. He squeezed off a few shots, but with the traffic all around and the limo dancing back and forth, the weaving bike was a hard target to hit.
+
 
+
He emptied the clip at Holly, with each shot getting closer and closer to the mark. He cleanly reloaded, and Holly pounded the handlebars in frustration. She was about to die!
+
 
+
The Suit raised the gun again, and Holly did the only thing she could; popped a back wheelie and raised the front of the bike off the ground, using its protective bulk as cover.
+
 
+
The Suit hesitated, momentarily taken aback, then clicked off shots as fast as the trigger would depress.
+
 
+
Holly's bike shuddered as three rounds found the gas tank.
+
 
+
Most people would think that if a gas tank was shot, it exploded, like in movies. Nope. It took something extra to set the tank alight. Like a spark or something hot.
+
 
+
The result that it did have was that Holly swerved and almost lost balance, her heart racing. She turned and stopped for a moment. Everything depended on the thin hunk of metal between her legs that was jetting forward at 60 miles an hour. Losing her balance would not be a good thing. Also, the gas tank started spilling fuel, creating a huge puddle of flammable liquid under the bike.
+
 
+
Holly took off again, twisting the throttle back as far as it would go.
+
 
+
The Suit reloaded and fired again and again. Holly felt a bullet's slip-stream pass right over her cheek. This was unreal. Was she going to die here, right now, on a stolen motorbike, chasing after a government agent?
+
 
+
A shot found the puddle of gas, and the bullet sparked off the pavement beneath. Traces of flint and other rocks in the gravel created a tiny spark as the bullet hit, and the spark quickly took up life in the puddle of gas.
+
 
+
Flames roared behind Holly, quickly following the trail made by the leaking bike. A glistening inferno swept over crowded markets and office complexes, scattering tourists and sending people running in all directions. A score of alarms and blaring sirens lit up the late-afternoon air. This, Holly thought, is not gonna be a picnic.
+
 
+
 
+
Matt's battered body washed up on shore. It was now high noon.
+
 
+
It felt like an age and a half to Matt, but half an hour later, he was groggily on his knees. Not able to do much else, he sat up and retched his guts out. He crawled a ways away, then collapsed again, his muscles trembling.
+
 
+
A steady ache started in his head and built throughout his body, escalating in intensity with every passing second, until Matt felt as though his blood had turned to molten led and his skull was being picked apart with a dull screwdriver. A soundless scream parted his lips, but no air would come. His diaphragm was barely contracting, leaving him short of breath, which only added to his pain.
+
 
+
There was always a price for this. Always a price he paid. Whatever it was, usually water, the pain always came afterward.
+
 
+
Matt didn't know how long he was sitting there, but eventually more sirens split the air. He groaned with the little breath in his body. Couldn't these guys ever give him a break?
+
 
+
He started to drag himself up, trying to remember how to fight, how to swing a punch, to land a kick, but he was just too tired. Scrunching up into a squatting position felt like working a full day as a manual laborer. Why couldn't he do this? Every human was supposed to stand.
+
 
+
As he crouched, a raw wave of agony washed over his brain, shutting down most of his fine motor skills and leaving him trembling in the sand.
+
 
+
He must have blacked out for a moment, because the next thing he knew, Jamie was standing over him, with three paramedics at his back and more police behind them. Regular police. Not Suits. Suits... the word brought back flashes of pain and memory. What had happened with the Suits? There was something about a fight in the sand, frantic scrabbling into the water... but why was he like this?
+
 
+
Jamie helped him to stand even as a new wave of pain assaulted his mind and body. His vision was tinged with red - or was that just the blood oozing from the gash across his forehead?
+
 
+
The paramedics rushed forward with urgent expressions, and Matt decided it probably was blood, and that he was about to collapse. So he went ahead and did that, but he never hit the ground. He just kept falling into a black void.
+
 
+
When he woke later, the pain had receded somewhat, so that he felt as if he could sit up. Which of course meant he was laying down. Without opening his eyes, Matt bolted upright and instantly regretted it. His body screamed out in protest.
+
 
+
Matt ordered his eyes to open. They didn't respond. Was he going blind? That would not be good. How would he help the others-
+
 
+
That thought sparked another memory. Holly. Scar. Jack. His friends. And where was Jamie?
+
 
+
Matt commanded his eyes to open and this time they responded. His eyelids fluttered, cracked, and then flew open as light rushed in to his world of darkness.
+
 
+
He was alone. Completely alone, in a dark hospital room. And extremely thirsty. He couldn't remember having ever been so thirsty. There had always been something to drink in his life. A Pepsi from the fridge, milk in the plastic gallon-jugs, heck, even tap water. But now there only a glass of water sitting on a nightstand three feet away. It might as well have been three miles.
+
 
+
Water. More memories crowded his brain - rushing water, salt stinging his eyes, and an endless, mind-numbing rage that had filled him - that all seemed to point to a dark, flooded memory of tidal fury and water surging all around him.
+
 
+
Where was he? He had to get to the water...
+
 
+
A hand appeared, took hold of the ice-cold glass, and handed it to Matt. His fingers made clearings in the frosted cup. Matt downed the whole thing, one gulp. He coughed back up half of it as it went down the wrong tube, and Matt reached up to discover that he had a pipe reaching down his throat. The plastic tubing seemed to be connected to some machine - of course it would be. He was in a hospital, for crying out loud.
+
 
+
And the reason he felt this way was because the wave had taken everything out of him. It had almost killed him. That much energy and massive water fueled by one fourteen-year-old boy. He should be dead - by all rights, he should have been dead - but he wasn't. He had stared the old Reaper in the face. Either the black-clad figure had decided he didn't want another little boy, or he had let him live to be tormented further.
+
 
+
Whatever the case, Matt knew it was bad news. A voice sounded somewhere off to his right, obviously trying to apologize for the accident with the water. Matt could care less. He sank back down into his dark world of sleep.
+
 
+
 
+
 
+
Holly bailed off the bike, going maybe 50 miles an hour, and let it run...
+
 
+
... straight into the Limo.
+
 
+
The gas tank lit, blew, and chain-reacted against the limo's tank, blowing them both into the air. The limo was incredibly tough; it took both the explosions and bounced back down onto its reinforced tires. Its armored chassis had withstood both blasts! The Suits that had gotten out of the now-empty car just a moment ago all whirled around. All of them, even the Tuxes, looked a little pissed.
+
 
+
Holly skidded against the ground. If she had only been wearing leather clothing like a biker, or better yet Jack's advanced armor prototype, she might have been okay. As it was, her thin two-piece swimsuit didn't offer much protection from the asphalt. Her back, legs, and arms were scraped raw and hurt like crap. She rolled over and over dizzyingly. When she came to a halt, the Tuxes were screaming into their hands over a hidden radio to send in backup. But on the plus side, she was right next to the bookstore. Scar was on the ground with a sidearm laying next to her hand.
+
 
+
Holly didn't think; everything was happening too fast for that. She snatched the gun up and instinctively pointed it at the nearest Suit, who flinched as he struggled to reload his gun and dropped the clip. She pulled the trigger and gave a startled jump as a burst of three rounds flashed out, strangely loud against the heavy air. She hadn't expected it to be an automatic handgun.
+
 
+
The Suit in front of her collapsed around the bullets that hit him in the chest, the rounds stitching upward from his gut to his sternum in pace with the rising barrel. One bullet hit his diaphragm, and despite the Suit's obviously bullet-proof suit, the shot still knocked his breath away and sent him tumbling to the ground.
+
 
+
"How'd that feel!" Holly yelled at the prone form. Jack burst out of a second-story window and landed awkwardly, followed closely by three Suits. The Tux appeared calmly in the smashed window and took out his Desert Eagle.
+
 
+
Not on my watch, Holly thought, aimed, and pulled the trigger, this time stabilizing the gun against the aggressive kick. She emptied the rest of the clip at the Tux, and eight bullets flew through the air at their target. Two found the Tux, hit him in his perfectly manicured hand. Which, unfortunately for him, was not armored.
+
 
+
For the first time, the Tux's perfect emotional armor cracked, pain and annoyance flashing across his pale face. He growled, a low, warning tone. The Suits looked at him, fear plainly showing on their faces. Holly took an involuntary step back, and Jack took the moment as a diversion and slipped behind one of the Suits.
+
 
+
Jack swung a double-handed blow to the base of the Suit's back, and the Suit collapsed forward. Jack bent and scooped up the Suit's Glock Automatic and two extra magazines, tossing one to Holly, who caught it instinctively. Jack yelled and fired full-auto at the nearest Suit. Although none of the bullets penetrated the armor, each impact hurt like crud and produced bruises the size of quarters. The fifteen-round clip ran dry, and Jack loaded in his spare clip, just like the airsoft guns at Matt's place. Holly fed the magazine into the receiver, cocked the hammer, and dragged both Scar and Jack behind a car. For all of Jack's bravado, one sidearm could not take out a full division of heavily armed, heavily armored, extremely pissed government elites. Bullets sang and pinged against asphalt, the car, anywhere in the general vicinity of the three 14 year-old kids and their cover.
+
 
+
So now the situation was; Holly and Jack both had a sidearm, each with one clip. Five Regulars and three Tuxes still in the picture, one Tux with a shot-up hand. A wall of bullets was beating the crap out of the car they were hiding behind. In short: no way to win. They were dead. The only one missing here was Matt.
+
 
+
 
+
 
+
Matt was riding in a SWAT armored van traveling at 80 miles an hour to the source of distress. Residents in the area had reported a vicious firefight between several poorly-armed teenagers and a heavily armed and armored paramilitary group in suspicious-looking suits. The mayor had told the police that the Feds were denying any existence of this group within their knowledge, and had authorized any force necessary to take out the rampant government group.
+
 
+
The three teenagers were obviously Holly, Scar, and Jack. And Matt was bringing in the cavalry.
+
 
+
Things were put down fairly quickly as SWAT soldiers jumped down and aimed rifles, shotguns, and Kinetic Energy Weapons (KEWs) at the group of eight government agents. Scar, Holly, and Jack ran over to Matt as he jumped down from the van, the world a little hazy before his eyes.
+
 
+
Ambulances quickly arrived and loaded the four. Before they even reached the hospital, the crew was out, dead asleep, sunk into a world of dreams...
+
 
+
...and nightmares.
+
 
+
----
+
[[Phoenix Rising: Chapter 3]]
+

Latest revision as of 22:30, 26 December 2010

The second chapter of the series.

Previous Chapter: Atlantis Rising: Chapter 1

Homepage: Atlantis

I've done some switching around of chapters, and a bit of off-line work, which brings this chapter into play.

Also see: Reaper's First Drop


15:19 Hours, February 8, 9406 BCE (Military Calendar), Inner Ring Middle Education Facility, Atlantis


“The world began as a flat liquid void. In the void there was nothing but the liquid that expanded forever, and the mist-filled sky, where the gods reside. There were no animals or plants. No life. The void was not called Earth yet. The liquid was flat, stretching on forever, and devoid of waves. There was no air.

"The three patron gods were born from the thick mist permeating the sky. They emerged from the cloudy vapor fully formed. Their bodies, humanoid, were perfect.

"There was no time to measure, but sometime later the gods grew weary of the vast emptiness that was the world. They formed the earth and the heavens, and later the soil, plants, land animals, fish, squid, and all other creatures. The pure-liquid that made up the world formed and flowed under their hands into the substances they wished to create, all the components of all substance being derived from the void liquid that was not water.

“The different gods chose for themselves specific regions out of the earth they were forming that they wished to control. There is Father Poseidon, the firstborn of the gods and the first to decide upon creating something out of the void. Poseidon formed the pure liquid into the great bodies of water on our Earth, thus making the first planet. Poseidon also introduced gravity to the universe, proportional to the mass of a body. This causes our world to take the form of a sphere, and thus, we know our world is round.

"Second, there is the powerful Ra that made the skies and the clouds. He refined the empty sky and created the weather patterns and the sun, an eternal light, which later came to help sustain life. It was he who made the first, pure gold from the scarp particles he used to create the sun. And for the spans in which the sun was not in sight, due to the curvature of the Earth created by Poseidon, he developed the moon to reflect the light of the sun onto the earth. And from the particles of the moon he created silver.

"Last, there is Freya. She is the goddess of the land, the goddess who created and governed all of the land we live on. She is also, fittingly, the goddess of all earthly ties, such as beauty, love, lust, and grief. She is also the one who first created land, and thus, a platform for life.

"Atlantis was the first continent that the gods created. They made this original land perfect, a utopia filled with everything needed for a pleasant life - it was, in effect, the Garden of the Gods. Poseidon, as I stated earlier, created the world as a single body of water. Freya created a single mega-continent of land in the middle of the world's ocean, and Poseidon and Freya and Ra together made the terrain and weather currents. And thus Atlantis, the perfect world, was formed.

"While creating the flowing rivers and streams and mountains and valleys and the different weather patterns was amusing for a time, the gods eventually again grew weary of their surroundings. Poseidon was the first to create life of any kind, but it was Freya that made we humans.

"Poseidon started out small, tinkering first with only a single cell. He made his creation perfect, and released dozens of them deep into his oceans. He then moved on to bigger and better things.

"The other gods took notice of Poseidon's work and began to expand upon it. Poseidon made all the creatures of the sea, Ra, the creatures of the air, and Freya began to work on land.

"And then, about 3 million years ago, it was Freya who started to hit upon human life. It had become an established protocol for all the gods to improve upon their past works, called "Evolution" in your science classes. So Freya took one of her creations called an ape that she had created and improved the design slightly. And thus we have the first female human, named "Liften", modeled after Freya herself.

"The years passed, but Liften did not age. She grew lonely, so the gods made a partner for her, Lif, modeling this male after Poseidon and Ra. And together they were happy. They bore three daughters and one son, and began to establish the first beginnings of what today is the Atlantis City Proper. The gods aided them and gladly gave everything that the first humans needed. After a time, it was decided that Lif and Liften should leave their earthly world to become gods in Heaven. The second generation of gods were thus born.

"And thus came a Golden Age unto Atlantis, from 11,000 to 9,400 years before Lif and Liften are prophesied to return to Earth.

"Liften instructed her children to go forth unto the world and multiply, assuring them everything they would ever need would be provided by the lands, and thus, indirectly, the gods. Generation followed generation, and each life was new, and had his or her own ideas to contribute. Eventually all of Atlantis was inhabited by we, humans. We have made many advances in science, the arts, and literature.

“Along with scientific advances came military advances. We discovered the power of explosives when we experimented with igniting a certain mix of native plants found here on Atlantis, and thus we made today's 'revolving rifles' that our infantry and sailors use to such great effect on the primitive Stone-Age inhabitants of the rest of the world created by Poseidon, Freya, and Ra.

“Beyond this, we made many more advancements, both trivial and non, that make up the technology we use today, from our metal aircraft to our heavy tanks to our simple furnaces and plumbing in our homes. This is how the world began. This is how Atlantis came to be.”

A large, church-like bell resounded three times, signaling the end of the class and the end of that school day.


Jason stood, leaving the cramped, uncomfortable Lotus position he had been sitting in for the past hour. He got up and bowed respectfully to his teacher, Pocrates, and gathered up his papyrus scrolls before hurrying after his friends.

In truth, he was lucky to have Pocrates for a history/religion teacher. Some of the other kids at the Middle Education Facility (MEF) envied him, but Pocrates just wasn't the most interesting of teachers.

Jason packed his scrolls into a satchel slung across his single-piece blue, red, and gold-trimmed tunic. He walked out the arched doors and filed down the hallway with all the other students. The hallway opened into the community social center, the popular place to be during free time. Kids played Hoops over in a corner, tossing a bouncy rubber ball through a hollow ring parallel to the ground. A group of Seniors tossed a light-weight, foam discus around.

But the majority of the students here were simply talking. Jason joined a group of his friends where they were hanging out in a corner, gossiping and laughing hysterically. He immediately joined in on the conversation and spent a good 15 minutes mingling with his friends.

"Hey, Jason!" Jason instantly recognized the deeper bass tones of Heracles. Heracles was 15, 6 feet tall, and 180 pounds of muscle. "When's the party?"

"1600 Hours at my place." Jason announced to the general assembly. "Two weeks from now." The crowd whooped and yelled. "So what is it?" Someone asked.

"Swimming and sparring at my house for a while, then we'll all go out for a show and some of the new "pizza" stuff the Marines picked up from Rome. Then more swimming and music."

"Sweet!" was the general response. "How bout some hoops?"

Jason smiled, pumped fists with Heracles, and walked off to the combined History and Economics classroom. This was one of the few classes that actually had seats in it; most of the others had soft mats to sit meditatively in. In Jason's opinion, you could focus better when you weren't inwardly complaining about your cramped legs. He got into the class just as the teacher, Persolacles, was starting his after-school lecture on the history of Atlantis and her colonies.

"...and as you have learned from your religion classes, the world started as a flat void of pure, sweet liquid. This is one of the few area subject matters in which religion and science agree. After this, though, they will branch off into two different paths. Your religion teachers will tell you that the gods above simply grew bored, and on a whim created the world.

"Science stands a little different. This void was not only of flat, empty liquid, but also of a heavy, dense mist or fog that covered the face of the waters. Furthermore, this void did not simply make up what is now the world as we know it; Atlantis and the surrounding continents, but the entire universe. This expanse was infinite. Not only that, but evidence suggests there was a single piece of earth, an atom, if you will. All of the universal matter was contained in this one atom. For reasons unknown, this atom simply exploded upon itself. Some say the atom was of an extremely volatile type, and it no longer exists in this world. This is the main standpoint of scientific theories, although there are others. From this explosion, we have a primordial soup of various vapors and gases, that under changing conditions and temperatures, invariably solidified.

“The temperature at this point, roughly 15 billion years ago, was extreme. Today we have no measure for the temperature, but there was no solid form because it was too hot. No liquid existed either - everything was gas and vapor. Does anybody know what causes heat?" Persolacles asked the crowd in general. Several hands went up. Jason had only a foggy idea. Chemistry wasn't his strong point. It was something about vibration...

Persolacles pointed out one student, who answered, "Atoms and molecules vibrating?"

"Correct. Heat is a by-product of molecules, and their atoms, vibrating. The higher the speed, the more heat. In this world of non-solid, non-liquid, every molecule that existed was in constant motion as matter and anti-matter sped apart in opposite directions. Hence the heat.

"As this begins happening over the course of thousands of years, we see fascinating items come into play. The first piece of land to form was the now-dormant volcano at the heart of Atlantis. And-"

"Excuse me, sir," A student's voice piped up. Jason craned his neck, but was unable to see the source. Probably Aaron. That brown-nosed nerd. “But is it not true that the Phoenix King has a secret military base housed in the hollowed out volcano? Rumors have been, well, circulating through the Education Facility, and I just needed to be sure." Yep, definitely Aaron. No one else referred to the "Middle Education Facility" as an actual "Education Facility." Everyone else just said school.

"Yes, and I'm sure these rumors probably caused you great pain." Persolacles answered gravely. Even he didn't like the way Aaron tried to suck up to the teachers and show-up the other students. "But I'm afraid it is beyond my ability to answer. Mount Heliotropos, as it is known, is indeed shrouded in a cloak of mystery, and it is true that the military guards its borders and lets none visit the top of the mountain, but beyond that nobody knows but the Phoenix King himself." Aaron ducked his head, face heating, and sat quietly in his seat. Jason glanced around at the quiet classroom, bored. The class could seat twenty five students, and only eighteen were in the room. A dusty board sat against a richly paneled mahogany wall, with a matching mahogany desk for Persolacles.

"Now where was I? Ah, yes. The first piece of land to form was Mt. Heliotropos. We know this from studying the carbon levels in the rocks here and on other parts of Atlantis, and we were able to get a date based on the amount of carbon levels we discovered in the rocks." Jason started writing out notes with his pen, using the long, graceful strokes taught to him in the Lower Education Facility years ago.

"Mount Heliotropos was by no means the stable, dormant volcano it is today as at the beginning of the world. When Earth begun, Mount Heliotropos was spewing an almost constant stream of molten rock and volcanic glass.

"This great deposit of volcanic glass, or obsidian, is the mainstay of our armed forces' blades today. With an infusion of steel or titanium at extreme heat, the obsidian becomes less brittle, and thus we have our sword blades and axe heads. We are unsure whether or not the entire universe spawned from this one atom on what would come to be Atlantis or whether there were more atoms of similar cosmic makeup that contributed to the universe as we know it." Jason yawned.

"The evolution of life on Earth came about a billion years ago, keeping in mind that the solidified, life-sustainable Earth is 4 billion years old. The first life began as single cells in the ocean, which is why we pay respects to Father Poseidon in our temples. Over time, millions of years, the single cells evolved into dual-and-quad-cell organisms. From this point on, increasingly complex and intelligent creatures come into play."

“The first creature to come on land was an amphibian. Today we have no name for this creature, but we have been able to find casts of its skeleton buried in the muck 100 feet off shore. Keeping in mind, of course, that 89 million years ago, when this amphibian roamed the seas, the shoreline was a lot different. Several theories have been proposed as to why the creature suddenly crawled onto a previously inhospitable, strange world of substance as opposed to the watery void that made his home, but the most viable of these is that this creature was simply trying to escape from the hostile waters. Casts of its skeleton show no significant weapons with which to defend itself besides fairly large teeth.

“This creature was also only four feet long, a shrimp compared to all the other Mosasaurs and Plesiosaurs that swam thence. This process, in which the lesser genetically equipped or skilled animal is naturally killed off due to its ease of hunting, is called natural selection, which is part of the reason humans are the dominant life-form. Humans are adaptable, and can live in a vast range of conditions.

“And so, whatever the cause was, this creature crawled on land. While it was there, it presumably laid a clutch of eggs, which in turn spawned a small group of creatures that had naturally been born on land and so were more accustomed to it. Then some of these creatures grew up, laid their own eggs, and spawned even more effective land creatures. So on and so forth, each breed of new creatures mixing genes with other creatures and populating the earth as we know it today.

“Skipping ahead a bit, we now move on to human history. The year is 9406. The first humans, dubbed Lif and Liften, came in 15,000. Atlantis, or the start of modern Atlantian culture and technology, came in 11,000. Throughout the years we have been steadily advancing in technology and power. Today Atlantis controls all of the known world. Atlantis is conveniently situated in the middle of civilized cultures, such as 'Europe' to the North and East, the Mayans, Olmecs, Incans, and Aztecs to the South and West, 'Africa' to the East, 'The Orient' to the far East, among others.

"Atlantis is the ruler of all the known world. We have taught the savages farming and agriculture. We have taught them about using more advanced simple machines. And we have left our mark.

"In Egypt; the great marble pyramids. In the land of the Celts, the great stone megaliths," He pronounced it 'Kelts'.

"In the land of the Olmecs, the great stone heads depicting the men of Africa. In Babylon; the giant stone Zigguarats. These we have left to mark our command over the primitive tribes of the rest of this world."

A bell rang, signaling that it was five minutes till 16:00, or 4:00 PM. Jason packed up his scrolls and his notebook he had been doodling in and followed the crowd out the door. After talking for a couple minutes with his various friends and asking them if they were coming to the match tonight, Jason left the Middle Education Facility through the heavy penthouse gate and walked down the busy street.


Jason's leather boots made no audible noise against the wall of sound that reverberated throughout the city. The school was a giant fortress behind him, right in the middle of the activity. Behind its walls, very little of the outside sound could be heard, but out here, the combined voices of over a thousand people on the one ring of the giant city was overwhelming.

The entire capitol city of the continent Atlantis was basically a series of three man-made rings, each about 9 stadium (measurements of 600 feet) wide, with rings of water in between each ring of land, also about the same width. The whole city was 50 stadium in diameter. The central island, where the school was located, was for the upper class. Only royal, religious, and educational buildings and dwellings. The Phoenix King's palatial fortress was housed beside Mt. Heliotropos in the center, and only a few hundred feet from it was the legendary temple to Poseidon. The Phoenix may have been the official symbol of Atlantis, but the sea was her lifeblood. It was imprinted into every aspect of their society.

The middle ring was where the mainstay of the population resided. It was built to house the people comfortably. Plenty of markets, shopping centers, public baths and sporting pavilions to keep the population supplied and entertained. Although Jason's family lived with the Royal district on the central ring, he wasn't needed at home until five thirty, so he had an hour and a half to poke around. Might as well head over to the town centers and see what there was to see. He might even catch a play or something if he was lucky.

The outer ring was where the industry and military shared quarters. It was the biggest of the rings, with a circumference of 160 stadium. The many canals and water-gates to the city were each guarded by a small fleet of the Navy's best, and blocked from direct access by large, chain-steel nets that were left lowered during the day so commerce could proceed apace. Docks crammed most of the space on the shores of the ring, loading and unloading goods, luxuries, tools, and weapons. The military's blades and guns were carved and honed from the volcanic obsidian and wood, which was needed all throughout the vast continent and its far-reaching empire. Most of the civilized world payed tribute to Atlantis, which was part of the reason they could afford so much luxury and grandeur.

The three rings were all connected by four bridges that followed the four Cardinal directions, and although walking was the main transportation in the city, there were mass-transit options such as ferries across water and the treaded locomotives on land, run by steam power that turned a gear which turned the axle. Several of these stations ran in major points of the city, such as the bridges, and Jason hooked a ride on one, handing the conductor several silver Obols (Atlantian dollars). Three minutes later he was sitting in a spacious booth on board the train with a couple other kids his age.

The booths had an amenities station stocked with drinks and snacks. Jason fed an Obol into a slot in the box, whose locked glass door sprang open, grabbed a tin can out of the iced clay box and popped open the lid, taking a long draught from the sweet drink, Nectar. Of course, the rest of the world usually just drank wine, even the kids, but the medical docs had found out that the alcohol was bad for kids and tampered with their frontal lobes of their brains, causing them to make stupid decisions.

At the next stop Jason got off, which was one of the main, outdoor shopping hotspots. Shaded overhangs cropped up all over the place, selling all kinds of stuff. Atlantians of all shapes and sizes and colors laughed and bartered with the local shopkeepers. Jason found himself unconsciously moving over towards one corner of the stone-walled, open aired building where the arms and armor traders had set up shop. Jason approached one of the smooth-stone counters and appraised a rack of viscous looking halberds.

"Hello there, Jason. Would you be coming just to look, or was there something you wanted?" The storekeeper Pisces asked in a friendly tone. "Got all kinds of stuff up here."

"Just looking today, I'm afraid." Jason replied. He came down here most days, and Pisces had always been nice.

"That's plenty fine too. Just got a big shipment of those new Halberd things up there. Supposed to be great against cavalry."

"Yeah, I can see that. So, what, it's a cross between an axe and a spear?"

"You betcha. Plenty of leverage power to the axe blade, and of course the two foot long spike at the top won't feel great inside of the horses' belly."

"Nice. I wonder if our school's gotten any mockups of those things for tonight's exercise."

"Oh, is there gonna be some action tonight?"

"Yeah, the Arena's being reset for a boarding action battle. Should be fun."

"Well, one piece of advice; make sure you're never without a weapon. Guns are great till you have to reload. Spears are fine till you throw them away, and then what? If they've got 'em, I'd take one of these Halberds myself. Any weapon is better than none, and two weapons in one is better than one."

"Makes sense. I'll try one out tonight. Speaking of which, what's the word on the Minoan front?"

"Thera? We've got a pretty good establishment there. The natives weren't much to mention. They had the basic stone and wood and a little bit of copper weapons, but those didn't do much against the mass amounts of orichalcum and titanium and steel we're sending down there. But there was still quite a battle, I understand, between a couple battalions of Marines sent ashore to secure their commanders and the Minoan army.

Jason grunted.

"Course, the flyboys came in and swept some of 'em out, and put some droppers behind the lines. By then the Marines had managed to cut through most of them, from what I hear."

"Yeah. I hear they're setting up a new establishments on both Crete and Thera?"

"Yeah, we'll see how it goes. I dunno why the King wants those positions so badly. But I guess he has his reasons."

"Yep. Well, I'll see ya later." Jason said, took a swig of Nectar, and walked on, admiring sets of gleaming orichalcum-titanium armor, with crested gold-and-silver paneled helmets. These new ones were supposed to be able to deflect a full-force sword blade. Though one of those new Halberds might do the trick.

Jason walked into another section of the enormous recreation center. The baths here had been created specifically for the public comfort, and the multiple stained-hardwood-and-stone rooms were crowded with relaxing citizens. And the best part was, the baths were completely free, except for the towels. Jason gave the young female receptionist a gleaming silver Drachma. The silver ones were worth six silver Obols, and the gold ones, ten. A gold Obol was worth two silver. Jason smiled at the receptionist, then went and took a pair of folded white linens from a stack by the wall and entered the locker rooms. He undressed and wrapped one of the linens around his bare waist, stowing his tunic and other items inside a small cubby and tossing the other towel casually over his shoulder.

Jason entered the steamy, humid sweat room and relaxed on a wooden bench, shutting his eyes for a while before he entered the next room, which was a long, salted pool.

Jason left half an hour later, putting his used linens in a basket after getting dressed.

It was about 5:00.

Jason walked out the door of the bath houses. He was surprised to find it dark and stormy outside, the ocean lapping against the strong metal and stone rings. No matter. They would just raise the storm shield, which was basically just another big ring 10 stadium out from the industrial ring that could be raised and lowered to deflect waves and winds. It was made from titanium and steel, and was attached to the ocean floor by paired metal struts. This was done in order to give the walls a little bit of give while maintaining integrity, unlike the regular rings, which were just attached to the ocean floor 100 feet below with strong, metal-laced cables. When it wasn't raining, diving to the sea floor was a popular form of recreation for the more active citizens.

Jason boarded the next train at the station and headed back for home.


Jason let himself into his house, not even needing a key. For one, his mother was home, since her sandals were tucked neatly into a corner by the door. And two, they had only one simple lock on all the doors. Crime rate at the heart of Atlantis: zero. Though they had an extensive system of courts and police enforcers, most criminals came from beyond the city shields.

Jason pulled the handle and the doors glided open on oiled hinges without even a creak. He knocked his knuckles against it twice anyways, to let his mom know he was here.

"Hey sweetie," His mom said brightly. "How was school?" Jason gave the usual answers as to what was for lunch, how his classes had gone, what was new with his friends, etc.

"Well, your father will be home shortly. He's working late again down at the Palace, trying to secure the funds for a new temple down in the Middle Ring. King Juliius supports it, but the Council and the Senate are in a bidding war over it. Politics." She finished with a slight huff.

Jason well knew what kind of politics could be entangling his father. This stuff could take months to sort out.

"Anything in the freezer?" Jason asked.

"There're a couple of Nectars, I think. If you're hungry, I can cut you some pork and dish up some fruit,"

"Sounds good."

"Any homework?"

"Nah. Did it all during after-hours."

"Dinner'll be ready in about twenty minutes if you wanted to go outside for a while."

"Twenty minutes. Got it. I think I'll go practice in the courtyard."

Jason found his older and younger brothers both in the courtyard, dueling with wooden staffs. His younger brother was 13 and his older brother 16, yet it was a pretty even match. His younger brother was built tall and solid, and his older brother was thinner, lanky, and coordinated, but not quite as strong. Daedalus compensated with strategy and applying force to key vulnerable areas, which made up for more than his lack of strength. He was the braniac of the family. Brutus was the athlete. And Jason was in between.

"Brutus!" Jason called in a deep voice. His younger brother, Brutus, was momentarily startled, and Daedalus took advantage of his brother's lapse to give him a good whack on the thigh, then to the back, then back to the leg to trip him up and topple him.

"No fair!" Was the instant yell from the prostrate Brutus.

"A good warrior must learn to block out all distraction." Daedalus said, using his best wise-old-sage voice.

"Yeah, well I'll tell you what. A good warrior also needs to bulk up a bit, Daedalus." Brutus said hotly.

"Your words speak wisdom beyond your years, Master Brutus." Daedalus said, repeating the voice. That was another thing. Daedalus could mimic sounds to near perfection. It was uncanny.

"Ha ha. I'm sure you wouldn't mind a go with Jason, based on your canny retorts."

Daedalus lost his mocking tone, the grin wiped off his face. The last time he had fought Jason, he had ended up with his tunic over his head and his sandals laced together and tossed into a bush.

Brutus tossed his staff to Jason, who caught it out of the air. Jason twirled it once around his body so he was holding it suitably, then launched an opening strike, which Daedalus deflected, twisting his own staff both to cushion the blow and to toss Jason off balance. Jason compensated, then whipped the other end of the staff around. Daedalus was expecting it, but the blow was simply too strong for Daedalus, and Jason levered Daedalus's staff out of his hands with his own staff.

Daedalus bent to retrieve it, but stopped when Jason's staff halted an inch from his neck.

"Not bad. You're getting better, at least." Jason said. Brutus was rolling on the floor cackling at his brother, while Jason, with a little more tact, was suppressing a grin.

"So, that only took you what, half a second?" Brutus cackled.

"Brutus, you're next." Jason interrupted, which ended the humorless laughs.


At 7:00 exactly, Jason walked up to the big castle-like Middle Education Facility, both his brothers in tow. Herakles was waiting for Jason at the penthouse gates. The entire education facility was built like a castle; indeed, the original design was for some bygone Phoenix King and his army. It was a fortress built for comfort, with a hundred rooms that had been converted into classrooms. The soft, natural lighting by day, complimented by the occasional mirror-amplified gas lanterns, was easy on the vision, and the darker, earth-tone colors in the flooring and walls were meant to relax the eye.

The whole school was beautifully lit with hybrid gas-and-oil lanterns. It took five minutes for Jason, Heracles, Daedalus, and Brutus to get to the PhysEd building, one of the rounded towers next to the main Keep. Once they were there they changed out of their red-and-gold tunics and donned realistic, if smaller, sets of battle armor worn by the standard infantry in the front lines.

Jason slipped on his chain-mail hauberk over a special padded tunic, cinching it at the waist with a small, thin strap of leather, and a soft coif went on his head. Next a bright red-and-gold tunic over his mail and pads, decorated with a simple Phoenix design signaling him as one of the standard infantry, then came the heavy armor plates used in combat. The males were to wear black titanium trimmed with orichalcum, a silverish-gold metal that was both decorational and extremely protective. It was the hardest substance known to Atlantis, and was found only on the one continent.

"Whoa, Hannon, got enough weapons there?" Jason asked. Inevitably, there was always one guy who went crazy and packed as many weapons as he could carry on his back. Hannon was currently decked out with a short sword and long dagger as his secondaries, a Battle Axe across his back, on top of which rested two medium-length, medium range carbines with 15-round drums, and a Halbred as his main weapon. Plus Armor. "Can You even move?"

Hannon picked up a Legionary square shield. "All set, guys."

The armor was extremely expensive but extremely protective, due to the hard nature of the metal and the pads he wore underneath. Jason, and the rest of the soldiers, could take four arrows to the chest and keep running, fighting. Sword blades would glance off the sides, as the armor had angled edges to deflect blows.

However, that was all well and good against regular blades, but the standard Atlantian blades were made of polished, reinforced obsidian that cut through most armor like butter. But not the practice blades, so if you hit something, you pretty much had to rely on the debilitating bruises from a steel weapon taking the target out.

On his head went a metal helm with a crest that ran down the bridge of his nose to stop just above his upper lip. Trimmed with orichalcum edges, it was one of the most valuable pieces of the armor next to the breastplate.

Next for arms. Using a sharpened metal blade would have been fun, but it would be too easy to accidentally kill somebody. That wouldn't be good. So Jason strapped a solid, extremely dulled practice blade to his waist and grabbed a figure-eight body shield in one hand, grasping a blunt-headed spear in the other. He tucked a small handgun into his belt.

The arena had a scheduled small-scale ship-to-ship engagement mockup enactment that was written down to begin at 20:00 hours. Five minutes.

Jason and Herakles trooped out the door to the arena with the rest of the crew, where several other kids were mulling around. The arena had been set up with to look like two separate ships, and it looked real. Jason and Heracles joined the blue team, as they had donned the blue team armor. Daedalus was already out in the midst of the blue ranks. Brutus joined the red team in a fit of rebellion against Jason and Daedalus.

The red team on the opposite side of a large, circular penned-in area raised a banner. A phoenix was artistically printed onto the red cloth. Blue team raised their own standard. An azure banner with a stylized image of Father Poseidon and the Kraken, which they planted at the helm of their 'ship'. The goal was to capture the other team's standard.

At 20:00 exactly, large mirrored lights lit up and a horn blew somewhere, someone yelled, "Team, stand by to repel borders!" and the two opposing sides crashed together. Three "crows," or gangplanks, extended between the two ships over a gap of about eight feet, and the red team swarmed to board with a many-voiced yell. Several grabbed lines attached to fake riggings and swung across. Below was a startling drop of twelve feet into a shallow pool about waist height that opened at the end of the game to let anyone who had been knocked down out.

Jason didn't hurl his javelin off like some of the other blue-team members at the oncoming reds swinging across; instead, he waited for one to throw a javelin at him before he launched his at the Red in a counter-attack.

The Red caught Jason's javelin on a torso-sized metal Legionary shield, and Jason had no problem deflecting the Red's spear with his full-body figure eight shield. Jason retrieved the fallen spear and charged the Red, who was still balanced on the rail of the ship a little precariously. The man caught Jason's blow on his shield, but he was driven back, and without anywhere else to step, he fell into the pool below.

Then Jason was striving to block a sword slash from another Red until Herakles appeared by the Red's arm and gave a solid boot to the Red's chest. The Red went flying, and Jason lashed out with his spear, holding it in the narrow lip of his figure-eight shield. A Red blocked it, countered, but Jason feinted right and then whipped the spear left, hitting the Red with the butt of the spear.

The Red was hit in the back as Jason stabbed out again with the blunt-headed spear. He was nailed to the deck with Jason's foot until he surrendered and submitted. Jason tagged him with a patch of blue dye on his helm, signaling that he was 'dead'. Then he ducked behind his massive metal shield as another sword slashed out of nowhere.

He parried automatically with the shaft of the spear, lunged, fell back, and then lunged again, the dull head nailing the Red in his shoulder. Even with a sharp blade, the Red would have still been able to fight unhampered, because the armor had a large shoulder-plate to protect against just such a move. The look of shock and mild pain that came with getting dead-armed, though, was worth it.

Jason whipped his shield forward and hit the Red in the mouth. He spit up blood from a cut tongue and charged angrily towards Jason. Jason sidestepped and bashed the Red with his shield again, sending him down and out.

On the opposite ship, a Red took aim through a revolving seven-shot rifle and plugged off three large shots at Jason.

The shots were simple blobs of congealed paint. They hurt when they hit, but not as much as a real bullet. Jason ducked behind his shield, his arm shuddering with each impact, then hurled his spear at the shooter, making contact with the rifleman's hip.

The riflemen wore similar armor to the infantry, but the plates weren't as large, and the helm not as elaborate. The dull spear found a weak point in the leg armor and toppled the rifleman, who was dispatched by another Blue.

But one problem. Now Jason was spearless, and his figure-eight body shield wasn't practical for sword-fighting.

Jason cast off his body shield after weathering another barrage of shots and drew his dull obsidian longsword with both hands. He crossed one of the gang-planks, mentally switching from defensive to offensive warfare as he shoved a Red dueling a Blue over the side.

A Red was crouched behind a body shield with a spear in his other hand, just as Jason had been. Jason approached from the man's left, the side he was carrying his shield on. The heavy piece of metal blocked the Red's view, and he didn't see Jason pop up next to him, take out his knee from behind, and 'skewer' him with a sword. Jason drove the dull metal into the Red's gut, stuck the guy with a dye-patch, and moved on to the next soldier.

Herakles was fighting three at once. Jason leaped up out of nowhere and stuck one under the armpit with his sword, ducked under a blow from the second, and swung a double-handed uppercut to the third. It hit the helm and sent the man flying. Herakles took out the second while he was standing on the first with his boot.

A swarm of reinforcements leaped up from the opposite side of the ship, leaving Jason and Herakles in a bad spot for a second, until Hannon appeared out of nowhere, holding one of his carbines in each hand and strafed the whole group. While the half that weren't tagged in the chest or head recovered from behind their shields, Daedalus materialized and stuck two before engaging the third in a spirited duel.

They threw dye-patches on all three, then moved on, Herakles with a double-handed flamberge and Jason with his hand-and-a-half longsword. Heracles advanced in front of Jason, drawing the fire of the rifle and pikemen holding a defensive wall at the edge of the ship.

With his scalloped flamberge, Heracles chopped the heads off of any spear or halbred that came too close. Jason followed close behind, fending off the scores of Reds that assaulted him. The Blue riflemen on the opposite ship opened a volley, sinking entire lines of Reds. Retaliatory fire chipped at the bulwarks and rails, but the line of Blue riflemen had taken cover and managed to avoid the worst of the volley.

Most of the school had turned out for the match. Jason grinned as he saw a thirteen-year-old red swordsman swept away by a huge blue fifteen year old. Herakles batted aside a line of pikes, and Jason charged through the gap, slashing, parrying, stabbing, and jumping out of the way.

Fake cannon roared beneath the decks and on the forecastles of both ships, flinging larger balls of paint at soldiers. Blues scattered as the cannon raked their lines, and the Reds scrambled for cover as at least three went down with their chests covered in blue paint.

Jason grunted as someone behind him took out his knee with a well-placed kick, making him collapse. On the ground, Jason could do little against an attacking foe. The Red that had clipped him advanced. Jason yanked his secondary obsidian dagger from the sheath on his side, surprising his attacker and slashing across the Red's greaves. Jason withdrew into a half-crouch, bracing himself and holding his dagger high, backhanded.

A squad of Blues swarmed the attacking Red, at least five spears thrusting forward and a good other four broadswords. Jason holstered his dagger as one of the Blues tossed an extra spear to him. Jason caught it and parried a longsword stab, whipping the weighted butt end around and under a plate of the armor on the thigh. The Red staggered, and Jason took him out with a downward stab. The rest of the battlefield continued apace, with crowds of spectators in the stands surrounding alternately moaning and cheering out loud as the blue team swarmed the Phoenix decks.

The Reds were pushed back up onto the forecastle, which also housed the flag. They fought all the harder as they were pushed back farther and farther. The winner of the engagement got instant bragging rights and won free of a week's KP duty in the student's mess.

Long, sturdy pikes were brought out from a small arm's room housed on the deck specifically for that purpose, proving much more effective from a higher point, defensively blocking two small staircases that served as chokepoints. Body shields were passed out to the pikemen and five-barreled “volley guns” were passed out. The guns were much shorter than the standard seven-shot rifles, but they were much more powerful at close range and held two shots per barrel.

Jason snatched a revolving rifle from a Blue's “corpse” and emptied the rest of the tube, plugging off five shots at the defenders, causing them to lay aside their pikes for a moment and duck under their shields, winning the Blues valiantly charging up the stairs a second's distraction. Herakles was in the thick of the mess, using his flameberge to lop off the heads of pikes. Blues were swarming the ship's rigging and spars, climbing to a higher elevation for maximum effect with their rifles.

If it had been a real engagement, likely both opposing sides would have been tossing ceramic jars of oily napalm at each-other's ship, and the captains would have been dueling in the center. As it was, several of the Blue swordsmen were duking it out with as many Reds, viscously hacking and slashing.

A knot of Red pikemen guarding the stairs collapsed; Heracles had been leading the shove to push them out, engaging hilt-to-hilt in a titanic shoving match, with the other Blues behind him shoving against the Red's by pressing Heracles with their shields. One Red's leg buckled after Jason's burst of shots, and the rest of the group soon followed suit.

The Blues broke through onto the forecastle, swarming the deck and pushing the defenders back to the standard, which was raised partway at the very tip of the ship.

Jason cast aside his rifle and followed the swarm of Blues, nodding at Daedalus as they passed eachother. Brutus was currently running around madly trying to cut down the Blue offenders with an axe, and was succeeding to a point in that none came to attack him. Daedalus fixed that as he splattered Brutus's chest with a couple shots to weaken him, then went in with his own sword.

The Red sharpshooters in the tops fired again and again, mercilessly taking down groups of Blues, but just as many Blue riflemen returned fire and took out half the Red sharpshooters in one volley.

Jason charged ahead, swinging his sword one way and then the next, delivering crippling blows left and right to be finished off a second later by the other Blues in their unstoppable charge.

The last few defenders were cut away from the flag. Heracles grabbed the rough, wooden flagpole. Now the only problem was getting back to the Blue ship.

The assembled Reds knew it wasn't done yet. They turned and now blocked the Blues from coming in the opposite direction, holding them off with pikes, spears, swords, any other weapon available. The sharpshooters focused their shots on Heracles and Jason as the ring-leaders. A body shield was hurriedly thrust into Jason's arm, and he covered Heracles, who was likewise outfitted. Heracles had snapped the eight foot tall pole in half and slung it in his sword sheath so as to have his hands free. He traded out his flameberge for a eight-shot officer's pistol lying on the ground.

Jason holstered his sword and grabbed a larger, more powerful five-shot handgun. The remaining Blues herded themselves around Jason and Heracles, protecting their heroes. Pikes and swords were cut back and knocked aside. Charging reds were redirected over the sides. There was no way anyone could stop them.

Cannon roared on either side. The gun-crews below decks were manning realistic shooters that fired blobs of hardened paint instead of cannon-balls or shot. At the moment, the Red gun-crew was attempting to surge up through the trap-doors in the deck, but the Blue forces hurriedly shoved boxes and nets of spare cannon balls and other equipment over the doors.

They were home free! Jason could see the crow that would take them back across. This was it.

Suddenly the trap door closest to the crow burst open, shoving off a squad of Blues caught in the way and tripping several others, who were immediately hammered into submission. A tidal fury of Red soldiers swarmed out, hefting one-hand axes and daggers. Under their furious onslaught, the Blues around Jason and Heracles fell to the floor and were trampled.

Jason barely aimed before he pulled the trigger, and watched as the Red barely an arm's length away jerked backwards and fell. He emptied the pistol and chucked it at the next Red, but he easily dodged it and jabbed with his sword.

Jason fell backed, shocked. He had been hit. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, the soldiers around him pushing and shoving in a half-speed beat. He gazed up at the smug look of the Red soldier who stabbed him. He could feel the sword, lodged against the joint between his chest and shoulder. The dull point dug into his arm. Even as he watched, the Red leaned against the blade and turned it 90 degrees to the right. He couldn't believe this. He had lost.

Herakles glanced down with a look of disbelief. Jason gritted his teeth, and on the ground ripped his dagger out of its sheath, surprising the Red soldier and cutting him across his breastplate. The Red stumbled, and Jason took his last kill of the day, slashing the Red's helmet. After a moment, three shots rang out, and as many bullets cut right into Jason's chest. Not even Atlantian armor could protect against that, and although he could have gotten up and started fighting again, it would have been against the sacred school law and he would not further disgrace himself by cheating.

Jason lay his head back and rested as the struggle continued. It was over.

One by one the Blue defenders succumbed to the onslaught of Red reinforcements. Several of the braver few Reds had crawled over to the Blue forecastle and grabbed the Blue standard, and now swarms of Red reinforcements were crawling over to assist their heroic squad.

A Red stuck a dye-patch on Jason's chest. The Blue flag was brought aboard the Red ship almost immediately afterwards, and the Reds were announced victorious.


Jason closed his eyes and let the hot water stream down his face and onto his shoulders. Herakles and the rest of the Blues filled the shower stalls around him.

Another blessing of Atlantian technology, Jason and everyone else on the island continent could enjoy indoor plumbing and heating. It was simple, really. Aqueducts drew the water from the surrounding mountain reservoirs and tributaries, then funneled it all down to special pump control nodes, which used either burning coals or gas to heat the water to a lukewarm temperature before pumping it through underground pipelines and from there into homes, schools, and any other building that had a restroom.

For showers, further heating took place directly at the showerhead, which used a tank of gas that was housed inside the shower stall. The temperature could be adjusted by tampering with the flow of gas from the tank. Right now, Jason had it turned up to the max, the water steaming as it hit the air, and the flow turned on full blast.

There went his reputation of never having lost.


Next Chapter: Atlantis Rising: Chapter 3

Homepage: Atlantis

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