This is a work of gay-themed romantic fantasy. Some chapters contain graphic descriptions of sex, not all of it consensual or between adults. If reading material of this nature upsets or offends you, please click away now. Nifty reaches a world wide audience and you know your laws better than I; if reading this kind of content compromises either of us legally, please follow the above instructions and leave by the way you came in. Otherwise, enjoy the story!
CHAPTER TWELVE: Asclepios
Brad scanned a conference room packed with heavy hitters from Thunderbolt Technologies and the Caduceus Medical Group; most of them didn't look happy. "Tell me again why we're wasting our time listening to a damn Intern prattling about some science fiction nonsense?" one of the Doctors groused.
"Because," Hephaestus told him, "What you call `science fiction' we call just another day's work here at The Forge! Are you telling me you don't use AIDIA or the Replicators? I know you live on the island; where do you think Power Spheres and Water Mixers come from? They both are manufactured right here!"
"Yes, but..." the man protested. "This CHILD--"
"This CHILD, as you put it, has all of Prometheus's memories if the word on the street is correct," said an imposing woman with graying blond hair and piercing blue eyes. A quick pull from his Patron told Brad this was Dr. Catriona Storm, the Administrator of the Caduceus Clinic. "Since both Apollo and Hephaestus seem to trust this young man, I don't see what harm it would do to at least listen to what he has to say."
"But Doctor..."
"Be silent!" the woman snapped. "Keep your mouth shut and your ears and mind open! You might actually learn something!"
"If it turns out I'm just blowing smoke think of the fun you can have telling everybody `I told you so'!" Brad quipped. Before the young man could start his presentation a cell phone buzzed. "It's Apollo's," Brad announced. "You need to take the call! There's been an accident with serious injuries. Apollo is going to have to work up some serious healing mojo or we'll have some additional cases to work on with this project. Scramble all the emergency resources the island can manage to deal with this; Police and Fire are already in route...!"
There was a quiet hubbub at the table while Dr. Paolo Solano took the call, his face growing more concerned as he listened to the voice on the other end. "Bradley had the right of it; we've got serious injuries!" Apollo told the group. "Ladies, gentlemen, sorry but we're going to have to table this discussion for a while! The Doctors need to get back to the Hospital; Hephaestus--may I borrow Bradley? We can use him for triage..."
"They'll need you too Mr. Forge," Brad said.
"How can that--that CHILD even know that?" the complaining Doctor whined. "He's no God!"
"I already told you Dr. Calvin," Catriona Storm replied tartly as she pushed away from the table. "If you didn't listen the first time I see no need to repeat myself! Medical Staff--come along! We'll send ambulances, EMTs and Nurses to the site--where is it by the way?"
"Cargo Port Ma'am," Brad told her.
"Thank you young man," the woman said. "I'll get things ready at the Hospital; you three go down there and see if you can help out!"
"What the fuck happened here?" Hephaestus demanded as he, Brad and Apollo materialized into a chaotic scene. Smoke billowed and there were sounds of explosions and occasional gouts of flame. Sirens wailed and people screamed as they tried to escape the conflagration or render assistance. "Was this terrorism?"
"Incoming cargo ship came in at full speed and missed the pier," Brad told him after consulting with Prometheus's knowledge. "It slammed into the new Cargo Warehouse under construction. We've got serious burns, some broken bones and a lot of contusions! Worst case is that guy over there!" He pointed at a man lying face-down on the pavement. He was dressed in work clothes that seemed a couple of sizes too big for him. "Dave burned himself out healing some of the worst cases..."
"How is that possible?" Apollo wanted to know, even as he moved toward the prone man.
"He's a strong psychic healer," Brad said. "Completely untrained! He overtaxed himself dealing with some life-threatening burn injuries and a broken spinal cord that would have left one of the workers paralyzed; he used up everything he had and now his organs are shutting down. He'll die unless you intervene Apollo."
"I did bring you along for triage..." Paolo knelt next to the prone sandy-haired man. "Yes, Bradley--this man is in bad shape! What's his name?"
"Dave van Daam," the young man told him.
"He just started working for my construction corps," Forge told the group.
"Mr. van Daam, can you hear me?" Dave groaned. "This is Dr. Solano--I'm going to assist you..." Brad was happy Apollo decided not to explain what he planned to do: he just let the healing energy flow as it began repairing the man's damaged organs and replenishing his exhausted energy; Dave was still going to need some time in treatment but at least it was a start. "This man needs to be taken to a hospital at once!" Apollo told a passing Paramedic. "Start him on a glucose solution to begin getting his bodily systems back up and running!"
"That's the last of them," Brad said as a Paramedic slammed the ambulance door.
Chief Eric Mars jogged up; "what's the total?" he asked.
"Three dead," Brad said sadly. "Two on the ship and one in the building; we have a dozen people going to the ER to be treated for burns and broken bones. It would have been worse without Dave van Daam's help; he was sent to the Clinic by Apollo but I think he'll survive."
"What about property damage?"
"The Warehouse is a total loss," the young man said resignedly. "I think the ship is too! If the Gods don't intervene we're going to run out of gas for tourists' cars and have some shortages at the supermarkets until we can establish alternate supply lines."
"Fuck!" the Chief sighed. "At least most of the locals drive electric cars with LongLife ™ batteries and a lot of residents have Replicators in their homes."
"Not those who aren't part of OlympusCo in any way," Brad reminded him. "That's at least a quarter of the island..."
"True," the beefy redhead sighed. "I guess I'm going to have to call PoPo and tell him we're going to need to activate another Ferry or at the very least add some extra runs."
"PoPo?"
"Poseidon," Ares told him. "It's a nickname some of us use..."
"To his FACE?"
"Do I look stupid, kid?" the beefy redhead asked.
The young man chose not to answer that question. "You might want to suggest Poseidon add a couple of early-morning and late-night trips," Brad offered. "If we only allow trucks on during those runs it'll prevent us from rolling shortages and won't overly inconvenience any of the regular passengers while we clean this place up and repair everything."
"Just a lot of truck drivers, grocery store worker and gas station attendants," the Chief said.
"Can't be helped," Brad replied. "There are perils to living on an island--even one with all the super-tech we have!"
"Does Mr. Zeusmann know?"
"Apollo and Hephaestus both texted," Brad answered "I don't think he replied to either one."
"Shit!" The beefy redhead punched the King's direct number. "Chief Mars here---yes your Majesty I'm on scene---what? No!---what do you mean, HANDLE it?---you're the fucking King of the Gods and Chief Executive Officer of OlympusCo!---what do you mean you aren't coming down?---look, Asshole, we need you to make some decisions here!---WHAT???---What do you fucking mean, moderate my tone?---Fine! What do you want me to do, your Majesty?---Handle it ourselves?" Ares stabbed END CALL and nearly crushed his cell phone. "He's lost his fucking mind! Zeus said it wasn't his God-damn department!"
"What are you going to do?"
"What else can I do?" the Chief asked. "I'll handle it myself!"
"Apollo has the casualties taken care of," Brad told Ares. "Hephaestus will take care of safely bringing down the building, repair what he can and clear the ship wreckage; he might need Poseidon's help on that last little bit so the harbor and Puget Sound don't get too polluted; you need to cordon off the area to prevent `Looky-Loo's' from swarming the place while things are being cleaned up. You're also going to have to do some old-fashioned Police work..."
"I don't suppose you can tell me why this happened?" the Chief said.
"Sorry Sir," Brad replied. "My powers don't work that way; I can give you who', what', when', where' and how' but not why'! I can tell you this much though--the ship's Pilot is among the dead. He shot himself. I don't see any indications of suicidal tendencies or depression but I haven't examined his life with a fine-tooth comb!"
"Fuck!" Ares growled. Then: "son--have you ever considered a career in Police Science? I could really use you on the force!"
"Honestly, I never thought much about that line of work," the young man replied. "I'm just using Prometheus's knowledge; have you considered talking to him? He'd do just as well, if not better than me."
"I don't trust him," Ares told Brad. "Prometheus is an old trickster and there's no telling when, or if, he'll go back to his old ways!"
"Sir, I doubt Prometheus would want to disturb the status quo on Olympus Island."
"The confidence in your Patron is refreshing," Ares replied, "but me, I've been around too long to think leopards change their spots!"
"Is Ares through with you?" Hephaestus asked. "I've got crews standing by to help the police go through the wreckage for the investigation. The cops won't take your word there aren't any more bodies to be found--sorry kid..."
"No worries," Brad said. "They're being thorough--nothing wrong with that! County, State and Federal Agencies are going to want reports and we don't need to give any of them an excuse to come snooping around the island! Just make sure they are careful around the southeast corner of the building! You take a wrong step in that area and you'll find the whole structure coming down around your shoulders!"
"I'll boss that section myself," Forge promised. Then: "there's no point in going back to the office at this late hour. Come back tomorrow rested and refreshed; I want you at your best when you're trying to repair my limbs."
"Thank you Sir," Brad replied. "I was hoping to get some time to drop by the Hospital and visit Mr. van Daam; I want to talk to Apollo about him!"
Forge raised his eyebrow. "I'm not going to lose you to the Doc, am I?" he asked. "Remember--you're `Bonded' to me kiddo!"
"I understand," the young man replied boldly, "but I think I've come across something that might make Apollo happy!" And more of an ally to me...
"And I don't suppose you're going to tell me what that is, are you?"
"If I'm right the whole island will find out soon enough," Brad told him. "If it turns out I was wrong I'd rather not be embarrassed in front of my Patron."
"Well, be about your business kid!" Forge said. "I'll be watching you though..."
"I wouldn't expect anything less!"
Dr. Solano was examining Dave when Brad poked his head in. "Well, Mr. van Daam, for someone who was at death's door a few hours ago, you seem to have made a remarkable recovery! We'll keep feeding you as much as you can stand and keep pumping in the glucose--your Auto-redaction will do the rest."
"Auto-redaction? What's that?" Dave had a central-Texas accent that Brad found oddly charming.
"It's `Doctorese' for self-healing factor," the blond gymnast said, stepping into Dave's room. "You seem to be doing better Mr. van Daam..."
Dave glanced from Brad to Apollo. "Who's this young `un?" he asked. "I didn't realize I was bein' treated by Doogie Houser...."
"I'm not a Doctor," Brad said.
"Yet...." Apollo added. "This is Brad Fox; he's one of Hephaestus's Bondsmen; I suppose Mr. Forge wanted to make sure you'd be able to come back to work!"
"That's partly true," the young man agreed. "I also wanted to speak with you, Dr. Solano. Are you willing to let Dave handle your Caduceus?"
"Excuse me?" both men said. Dave was confused and the Doctor was clearly scandalized by the very idea.
"The Caduceus was created by Hermes and given to my Lord Apollo back when he still lived in Olympus," Brad told Dave. "Apollo later passed it on to his Demigod son Asclepios who used it as part of his healing treatments. When Asclepios was raised to full-Divinity he kept the wand."
"That much I r'member from High School," Dave said.
"My son never chose to dwell in Olympus," Apollo said. "He stayed on Earth teaching mortals medicine and healing those he could; he was killed when his Temple collapsed in an Earthquake!" The God of Medicine wiped a tear from his eye. "I still miss him today!"
"I believe his Immortal Spirit resides within the Caduceus," Brad said. "There hasn't been anyone with a strong natural healing talent like Mr. van Daam's since Asclepios walked the earth. If anyone could rouse him, I think it would be Dave!"
Apollo cast a skeptical eye on Brad. "You really think it will wake my son?"
"Prometheus certainly does," the young man replied. "If it works out, Asclepios returns, you have your son back and Olympus Island has a newly-returned God of Medicine. If I'm wrong all you've lost is a little time and all your respect for me! Seems like a fair trade, don't you think?"
"I suppose..." Apollo said after a moment's deep thought. He raised his hand and translocated the Caduceus to him. The shaft was golden with silver wings just under the crystalline cylindrical head; a pair of serpents, both with ruby eyes, one scaled in malachite and the other in lapis curled around the wand. Both serpents had open mouths, fangs and even little metallic tongues. "Be careful with this! It's priceless!"
"That's a mighty fine artifact!" Dave allowed. Brad caught a certain yearning expectation in the man's eye and knew the Texan was ready and eager for what was about to happen. "May I?"
Apollo handed the rod to Dave and no sooner did the sandy-haired man grip the thing than pale blue, sweet-smelling mist issued from the mouths of the twin serpents, flowing directly into Dave's nose and mouth. "I think you have your answer," Brad observed. "You OK Mr. van Daam?" he asked once the mist was all absorbed.
"My son!" Paolo fell on the big man weeping for joy. "You came back to us!"
"Hi--Papi..." Dave seemed more bemused than upset or angry as he gave the God of Medicine a gentle hug. "How long have I been asleep?"
"Since about 70 BCE," Brad told him. "It's 2019 AD now."
"Damn! I've got a lot t' catch up on!"
"Yes, hijito you do!" Apollo agreed.
"Maybe we could move him in with Dionysus for a while..." Brad suggested. "I'm still teaching Dennis to master his new role; I may as well add Dave to the lessons; no doubt my Lady Athena would be just as happy not to have to take on a new Godling...."
"No doubt," Apollo agreed. "What do you think Dave?"
"I s'pose that d'pends on Dennis Hardy!" the Texan said. "I'd hate t' go invitin' m'self into a stranger's home..."
"If one or both of you offered him a favor I'm sure he'd be willing," Brad suggested. "It'll give Dave time to settle into his new role while Human Resources fakes up a convincing background so he can practice at the Clinic."
"C'n they do that?" Dave asked.
"When HR is through they'll convince your own parents you went to Medical School," Brad promised. "Yes, they are that good!"
The following morning the Texan was released from the hospital and Brad was there with a car to transport him to his new (temporary) home. "Y' sure this ain't gonna be a problem?" Dave asked Brad for the third time as they drove from the hospital to The Arbor.
"Dennis is fine with it!" the young man assured the Texan. "Athena asked him if he would kindly take you in while you studied Godhood 101! Since I'm already working with him it's a piece of cake to start you on the same lessons; I'll move in with you once you've established your own Demesne. That's, of course, assuming you'll allow me to do so!"
"Y seem t' be an expert on the subject!" The Texan allowed. "Howdja learn so much at such a young age?"
"Prometheus Gifted' me with access to his knowledge," Brad replied. "Took me a while to figure out how not to go down rabbit holes' following random questions but now that I've got it under control I'm pretty much a walking Encyclopedia Britannica! If Prometheus knows it--and he knows pretty much everything--I can find the answer. That's how I ended up being Tutor to the newly-emerging Gods."
"And ya don't mind?"
"I appreciate being useful," the young man replied. "I get to do something with real value--and get paid for it as well! That's a win-win in my book! I suppose I should warn you that pretty much everyone living at The Arbor is gay: I hope that won't be a problem..."
"Not a bit of it," Dave allowed. "That's what got me ridden out o' Sweetwater on a rail..."
Brad knew all of the Texan's life story in a flash but decided not to tip his hand. He'd see if Dave felt like sharing. "Do you want to talk about that?"
"Sweetwater is a very Christian' little town," Dave told him. "I had m' own Construction Comp'ny an' was doin' right well f'r m'self... I worked bout eight months out o' th' year an' filled out th' winter with odd jobs; I had a nice house, big new truck--even a Bass Boat!"
"In other words you were living most Texan's dreams!" Brad observed.
"I was," the big man agreed. "Mind ya, I'm a man in m' thirties--never married an' not datin' so's y'd notice--but most folks just put that down t' me bein' a confirmed' bachelor! Nobody thought a bubba like me could be one o' them quares'!"
"'Quares'? Oh--never mind..." Brad said. "Obviously something happened to change that..." he prompted.
"I was doin' a remodel on a coffee shop th' next town over," Dave told him. "I caught m' brother th' Minister comin' out o' a motel with a woman who was not his wife! A few days later I caught him with yet another member o' his Congregation at that same motel..."
"In other words, the good Reverend was engaged in some `horizontal' counseling with a whole parade of women who were not his wife," Brad prompted; he wanted to get to the next part of the story. "So, at some point your brother found out you knew?"
Dave nodded. "I told Donnie I had no int'rest in ruinin' his fun OR his marriage--but he decided t' make a preemptive strike... Next thing I know, Donnie is outin' me on his local TV show an', worst of all, he said he feared' I was a child molester!"
"Good Lord!" Brad exclaimed. "It's a wonder you weren't lynched! He said feared' and everyone in town assumed the Reverend knew' something but wasn't sharing. What a son-of-a-bitch!"
"M' business dried up," the Texan went on. "Anyone who wanted t' hire me ended up havin' troubles o' their own!" I ran through m' savin's, had to sell m' new truck f'r pennies on th' dollar an' had m' house foreclosed exactly one month after I missed m' first payment. Worst of all--m' Daddy had a stroke an' th' fam'ly blamed it on me!"
"And, of course, the fact that pretty much everything your Father ate had to be deep-fried and the only exercise he got outside of his plumbing business was wrestling around on the floor with his grandkids and a regular workout with twelve-ounce curls never came up even once?" Brad said.
Dave looked askance at the young man; "that's right--they say you know ever'thin'!" he observed.
"I thought it would be best to let you share your story with me," Brad replied. "But, yes, I pretty much know everything that happened to you; I know how your Brother used information gained in confidence to `out' you--and what happened to the man who told him. I know the Reverend colluded with the Bank Manager to steal your house from you and I also know he took control of your family accounts and drained them--while conspiring with the Medicare Manor your Dad is in to overbill the Feds for his care and split the profits! It won't take me long to find enough written proof to back up everything I just told you; if you'd like I can help you burn that town to the ground!"
"I wouldn't want that," Dave said to the younger man. "I'd hate t' see m' folks suffer though--an' I confess I wouldn't mind givin' m' brother a good swift kick in the ass!"
"I can help you make that happen," Brad offered.
"I'm listenin'..."
"First: I spend the next little while gathering all the written records I'll need to take down the bank manager who stole your house," the young man said. "Second: you need to collect the pictures you took of your brother at the `No-Tell Motel' and the credit card receipts he used to pay for the room... If they weren't found and destroyed you should be able to translocate them directly to you."
"Pictures c'n be faked," Dave agreed. "'Master' Card an' `Lady' Visa never lie!"
"Exactly!" Brad agreed. "We should probably establish a base in a nearby town so we don't tip off your brother that we're coming; I think Abilene is large enough that we won't attract much attention when we show up. I think it would be best if we went on a Saturday; we head over to Medicare Manor' and you lay healing hands' on your Dad and pray to `God' to heal him! You, of course, will be the God doing the healing--but they don't need to know that..."
"You're an evil little man, Bradley Fox!"
"I know!" the young man agreed. "What's the use of having access to all of Prometheus's knowledge if I don't use it for my friends now and then?"
"What happens next?" Dave asked.
"Once we've sprung' your Dad, you need to head to the bank to replenish your parents' bank account," Brad told him. "You're Mom had insufficient funds' to pay for her groceries last week so she had to use her credit card to pay for them; there won't be enough money to meet the next month's bills if you don't help them."
"I barely make enough t' get myself through the month livin' here!" Dave said. "Where am I gonna come up with that much cash?"
"In case you've forgotten, you're a GOD now!" Brad reminded the Texan. "You don't have an `endless' drawing account through OlympusCo but you have access to enough money to live in the lap of luxury for the rest of your life! And that's not counting things like your Demesne, the Replicators, your Godly powers of Creation..."
"I begin t' see why I need a Tutor..."
"Indeed!" the blond gymnast said. "I already walked Dennis through Human Resources so setting you up won't be that much more complex. Yeah, they'll have to fake-up an off-shore Medical Degree for you, but when they are done you'll be able to practice anywhere you choose. Might help if you ask Prometheus to `Gift' you with the procedures and terminology so you can write reports though; I can help you with that as well..."
"Y'all c'n do that?"
"Yes!" Brad assured him, "and what HR won't do for you, I can!"
Brad was half relieved, half disappointed to find Dennis fully dressed and the satyrs at least wearing pants when he brought Dave into The Arbor. All the Residents and Staff were assembled in the Grand Foyer when the young man brought the big Texan through the carved front doors. "Everyone--I'd like you to meet Dave van Daam, the new Asclepios!" Brad announced.
Dennis came forward, wrapping the new arrival in a warm hug. "Welcome tae me home, brother!" he said.
"I don't know how y'all do it in Ireland," Dave replied, "but in Texas we greet a brother like this!" He kissed the redhead in his arms full on the mouth, tongue-fencing a good long time before squeezing the other man's ass then letting him go. "That's how WE greet a brother!" he said.
Dennis seemed quite pleased with the greeting. "I think ye'll fit right in here laddie-buck!" the God of Wine said. "Bradley, will ye take our guest up an' show him his room? Then ye can give him tha grand tour o' the property!"
"Nice place!" Dave said as he sat down on the big bed. "Th' décor is a mite neutral but I s'pose I shouldn't complain..."
"Since Dennis gave you this room you can do with it as you please," Brad told the Texan. "Decide what you want and will it into being--you're a God now, you can do that! Just, please, don't change anything elsewhere in the house without Dennis's permission! You are a guest after all!"
"How long d' ya think I'll be stayin' here," Dave asked.
"It depends," the young man replied. "We can't force you to stay here for a single minute if you don't choose to, but you should probably stick around long enough to learn the basics before you go. After that it's more a matter of how long it takes you to get processed through HR, set yourself up as a Doctor and get your Demesne in order; I imagine I can move the process along before I have to go back to school this fall: of course all bets are off if his `Madge' decides to interfere..."
"His Madge?"
"Sorry," Brad said. "Hephaestus called him that and I'm afraid I picked it up from him. Probably not a good idea if you want Father Zeus to speed up your Adoption..."
"D' ya expect trouble?"
"Who knows these days?" Brad told him. "Maybe I'm not the one to ask because it seems like Zeus has gone off the rails lately; I can understand him being angry because I freed Prometheus--even though he set up the rules himself! Still, it seems Zeus didn't know where Hephaestus sent his Bondsman--which, now that I think about it, seems damned odd! Then yesterday he tells Ares that handling the issue at the Port wasn't his department! If I didn't know better I'd swear his Majesty is developing some form of Divine Alzheimer's!"
"Is that possible?"
"Who can say?" the young man replied after a bit. "Prometheus doesn't have any memories of it happening to an Olympian or a Titan but that doesn't mean it couldn't happen. I suppose it's also possible some magical type or someone from another Pantheon has cast a spell on him but I don't know of a way to detect who could have done that! Maybe he's just having a midlife crisis..."
There was a tap at the door; "sorry tae disturb ye lads," Dennis said, poking his head into the guest room. "Zeus sent a Messenger; he wants all of us at Olympus--you too Bradley..."
"Aren't we already on Olympus Island?" Dave asked.
"Olympus is what Zeus and Hera call their Demesne," Brad told him. "You probably want to zap yourself into something nice; neither of their Majesties approve of sloppily-dressed people at Court!"
All the Gods were assembled in Zeus's Throne Room and his Majesty was not happy! "Why am I not surprised to see you at the center of this farce, Bradley?" the King asked, giving the blond young man a sour look. "So, what's your plan youngster? Do you intend to bankrupt us by introducing a host of new Gods?"
"Father, my Son is hardly new!" Apollo protested. "I saw his spirit enter David with my own two eyes!"
"You saw what Bradley wanted you to see!" Zeus thundered.
"No Father," the aristocratic blond replied steadfastly. "I spent a good part of last night talking with him! He has all of Asclepios's memories!"
"He could have been coached!" Zeus countered. "With help from Prometheus he could have coached that man!"
"Zeus," said a woman Brad had never seen before but he knew was Mnemosyne. "Bradley Fox had never so much as laid eyes on, much less coached David van Daam before coming to the Cargo Port with Apollo and Hephaestus yesterday."
"Still..." For whatever reason Zeus wasn't willing to concede the point.
"Perhaps a demonstration to prove his worth?" Athena suggested.
"What have ya got in mind, Ma'am?" Dave asked.
Athena turned her attention to Hephaestus. "Brother, would you mind if Asclepios uses his healing power on your eye?"
"I'll need some help to remove and close up the neural port, but I'm game," the God of the Forge replied.
"Apollo--come with me..." Athena said. "I'll remove the port and you can close the wound! We don't want Father to have any suspicion of his perceived `enemies' colluding to deceive us!" The three were gone for a good while but eventually they returned with Forge, proudly displaying his ruined eye-socket. "Now--Asclepios, if you will be so kind?"
"I don't know if I can..." Dave said softly.
"Yes, you can!" Brad told him. "You were a Contractor back in the day so you know how to read blueprints, right?" The Texan nodded. "Fine! You've got a blueprint right on Forge's face! Use his good eye and just copy it over in the socket!"
"I c'n do that..." Dave looked into Forge's one good eye then touched his face. A warm, washed-denim glow came out of his hand and a fully-functional new eye formed. "How d' ye feel, m' Lord?" he asked.
"Oh my God!" Forge exclaimed. "Binocular vision! It's amazing!"
"I think that should be enough to prove my Son is who he says he is!"
"I agree with Apollo," Brad said. "But, for the sake of argument, let's assume I somehow managed to pull a fast one on him and every other Olympian by somehow managing to make a fake Asclepios and pass him off as the real thing! Do you really want to lose someone with that level of power to the wider world or, worse yet, to another Pantheon? I don't think you do Sire..."
There was a host of cheers from the other Gods, leaving Zeus to stare glumly at Brad. "You've won this round--Mortal--but I will prove to these fools that you are a Traitor to Olympus! I know you're plotting with Prometheus to free his brethren from Tartarus!"
"Not possible!" Brad said, almost sweetly. "The Titans have been in Los Angeles almost as long as you've been up here in Seattle! I wonder why you didn't know that..."
The room exploded into a horde of separate conversations, mostly angry or curious. "You see!" Zeus shouted over the din, thunder rolling outside to emphasize his statement. "Bradley Fox is announced his traitorous intent!"
"Don't be ridiculous, my Lord Zeus," Mnemosyne said calmly. "All young Bradley did was tell you the Titans were freed! I've known this for a several centuries. There was no need to tell the rest of you and start another needless war; the Titans are busy with their own affairs and not concerned with us. Why should we worry about them?"
"Frankly," Ares said, "we have a more pressing concern!"
"And what would that be, my dear Son?" Zeus sneered, the sarcasm hanging thick in the air. "What could be more important than our ancient enemies laying in wait on our very doorstep?"
"This!" The beefy redhead brought out an enameled scarab in a plastic bag. "It reeks of magic," Ares said. "I handled it with null-magic rubber gloves and made sure no human touched it! There are several glyphs engraved on the back side; they look Egyptian to me..."
"Let me see that!" Hecate took a jeweler's loupe from her reticule and carefully examined this artifact. "Yes, this is Egyptian," she confirmed. "The Spell is a Compulsion that required the Pilot to ram one of our Ferries: if the Fates hadn't intervened we would have had a much worse outcome. The spellcasting look sloppy though: I hardly think it's up to any of their Mages' standards."
"Makes me wonder if this is a red herring," Brad said. "I can't trace the item but it seems very damned odd that the Egyptians would place a giant neon arrow pointing directly at them! They've always been more subtle."
"Someone is trying to start a war between us!" Ares said. "The only question is who..."
END CHAPTER TWELVE
AUTHOR'S NOTES
Congratulations to Michael B. He was the first to come up with the correct answer; further congratulations to Michael H. While he wasn't the first to come up with the correct answer he was the first to completely lay everything out. Therefore, I have decided to award TWO prizes: your characters will be introduced in a future chapter: it may take me a while to get there but I will pay up. Thanks to everyone who entered my contest; there were nine correct answers in total and an equal number of interesting, if wrong guesses. I may have to figure out more "contests" for this story.
Shout out, as always, to my crack editorial staff--"Marko the Magnificent" and Rockin' Robyn. I couldn't do it without your help.
Questions, comments, constructive criticism and suggestions are always welcome; drop me a note to HonableRonable@gmail.com or RonVenable@hotmail.com and I WILL reply. Likewise, if you wish to be notified when new content is available you can reach me at either of the above addies and I'll make sure you are among the first to be notified. Which reminds me--did I send out a note about Chapter 11?
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