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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Protector of Children - 23. Chapter 23: Lucas and Mark--Part VII

"You have two choices: to live or to die. If you live, you have two choices: to be my friend or to be my servant. I will not permit any other relationship."

Lucas and Mark—Part VII

“A man is what he wills himself to be.”
Jean-Paul Sartre in Huis Clos
1944 C.E., Earth Analogue VI

Mark

I must have fainted or something. When I woke up, I was lying on the bed where I had spent the night. I still had on clothes—which weren’t anything much more than the skirt-thing and sandals. I wondered where my real clothes were, and then realized that was a pretty stupid question. What did it matter where my clothes were? I was the prisoner of Set. I thought he’d rescued me from the snake. I was wrong.

The last thing I remember was beating on Set, trying to make him let me go, because I realized that he was saying his esses like Apep did. And because I knew that if he were the snake’s master, he was evil.

Is he watching? I wondered. Can he hear what I’m thinking? Does he know I suspect—

His voice from the doorway interrupted my thoughts. “You lost consciousness. You were upset. I brought you here to rest.”

Before I could think about that, he said, “I know that you are troubled. I know that you think that because I am Apep’s master I share his evil.”

He chuckled. I watched as he smiled. There was something about him, about his smile that almost made me forget the snake—

“Yes, Apep and I sound similar when we speak your tongue, your language. That is because our own language contains many sibilants—sounds that hiss. It is merely the way we speak, and is not a sign of evil.

“You do not have to believe this. And, you do not have to come out of this room until you wish to do so. I will not enter until you invite me. Your servants will bring food and remove what needs to be removed. They will bring water for bathing. Then will summon me when you want to see me.”

He turned quickly and was gone before I could speak, before I could think.

 

I spent the rest of that day in the room. There was no toilet, but there was a pot I could squat over. I remember Mama kept one sort of like it in the car when I was little, so I knew what it was for. And I remembered Mama. I haven’t thought of her since I got here. All I’ve thought of was Lucas and Eddie. What must she be thinking? Will she be worried, or is she too busy at work to notice?

 

Lucas

“I have to tell Alice,” I said. “She will be back from the hospital in an hour or so, and will expect Mark to sleep in his own room, tonight. I . . . I don’t know what I’ll say.”

“Let me,” Dike said. “A mother-to-mother talk. May I take some of the white tea to her?”

Dike morphed into the aspect of a woman about Alice’s age. She still looked like herself, and I would have recognized her in a crowd. Eddie grabbed me. I think he was a little frightened, but he quickly overcame his fear.

“Cool!” Eddie whispered.

Mother? I thought. Dike is a mother? I ran through my memories of Edith Hamilton’s mythologies but none of them were helpful.

Dike

I stepped out of Lucas’s door just as Alice reached the top of the stairs. She saw me, and paused for a moment.

“Hello, Alice,” I said. “Lucas was good enough to give me some white tea. It’s quite a treat, and I suspect you’d like something warm after your day. May I visit you?”

Alice opened her mouth, but couldn’t seem to speak.

“Oh, I’m sorry. How rude of me! I’m Candi Everhart, the judge who signed Mark and Eddie’s papers? I should have visited you long before this.”

I took her arm, and gently walked her to the door to her apartment. She did not need any other pressure or convincing. Once the tea was made and I explain that Mark had disappeared, I wished I had some help.

Artemis would know how to handle this, I thought. She was . . . I dropped that thought almost as fast as it formed.

“If you have hurt Mark—” Alice began.

“Alice, please understand,” I interrupted. “My domain is justice; I could no more harm Mark than could you.”

“Your domain,” she said. Her lip curled. “You’re a judge. Family Court, I would guess. Your domain is a courtroom and not my kitchen!”

I sighed. Probably should have done this from the beginning. “Alice, I am not only a judge, I’m one of the gods that Lucas and Mark told you about. The reason I signed the papers for Mark is that I am perhaps the only judge in this reality whom Mars would obey.”

Alice’s mouth formed an “O,” but she didn’t say anything. Then she nodded, and said, “Go on.”

“I have had three children. Their fathers were mortal. They were, like Mark, demigods. Like Mark, they gained powers as they grew older. They dedicated themselves to good causes, as I hope Mark will do someday. Like Mark, they had were growing pains as they discovered their powers and the values that would guide them.”

“Mark’s disappearance is more than some damn growing pain!” Alice said. I was glad to feel her anger. It signaled her acceptance of the status quo.

“Yes, it is,” I said. “In fact, it’s more serious than anything that has faced us in years.”

“Us?”

I told Alice of the other gods, skipping the visit from Aiden and Mark’s budding relationship with that boy. I described the team that was trying to find Mark, and I assured her that we would keep her abreast of developments. “That’s all we can do,” I concluded. “Lucas is, of course, devastated; however, he is strong, and he is leading the search.”

“Lucas?” Alice said.

“His mind is logical, and he was able to suggest avenues of investigation that we would not have considered. Yes, he’s in charge.”

I did not tell Alice why Mark had vanished. After all, we weren’t sure of his reason, and there was no reason to provide gossip for speculation. After Alice absorbed what I was able to tell her about the search, we shared another cup of tea and talked about girl things. I think we both felt a lot better, afterwards.

 

Mark

Set kept his promise: he didn’t enter the room. He did come to the doorway several times to ask how I felt and if there were anything I needed. I usually just said, “Fine, sir” and “Nothing, thank you.” I figured it wouldn’t hurt to be polite.

He came, again, when the dog-men took away my supper tray on the first day. After his usual questions, and before he could turn away, I asked, “Why do you keep me here.”

“I know you found me attractive,” he said. “I know you felt safe in my arms when I carried you away from Apep. I know you were happy to be rescued. Are you sure there is nothing you need?”

To go home! I thought, but was afraid to say it. “Nothing. Thank you.”

After he left, I wondered about what he said. He was right that I found him attractive, and I remembered getting a stiffy when the dog-men helped me out of the bath. Did I like him that way? Did he like me that way?

 

The next day, after breakfast, I had enough courage to answer his “need anything” question with another of my own.

“When can I go home?”

Set’s lips, already narrow, tightened, and then relaxed. “I’m sorry, little man, but I do not know the way to your home. Do you?”

I shook my head. I’d tried, I had really tried, to make myself go back to Lucas, but all I got was tired and headachy.

“Then,” Set said, “you may want to consider making the best of your situation. If you are to remain here, you will need help—and friends. Please give me a chance to become one of those friends.” He turned, and left.

After he left, and with nothing else to do, I thought a lot. I thought about Lucas and Eddie and Mama. I wondered if they were worried about me, or if they’d already forgotten about me. I wondered if Aiden would wonder what had happened to me when I didn’t call him, three years from now. I figured if Lucas were looking for me, he’d have found me by now. I cried a lot when I realized that Set wasn’t going to let me go. Then, I thought a lot, and figured that if I were going to escape, I would have to do it, myself. I had to get hold of myself. I had to grow up, and fast!

Where could I start? What do I know? I know I’m somewhere else. I know I brought myself here. No, that’s not for sure. I started the trip but maybe something or someone brought me the rest of the way. What had Set said? Maybe some power greater than he? Who would that be? Supposed to be that only the Fates are more powerful than the gods. Were they doing something? Was Set telling the truth or was it he who brought me the rest of the way?

How can I escape? I can’t translocate, but I still had my braces. With them, maybe I could get away. Without them? No way. But where would I go? Where am I? I had been in a cave, then inside a house. The only light in the tunnel and cave was from torches. I don’t know where the light in this house comes from. It’s like the whole ceiling glows or something during the daytime, and everything gets dark when it’s time for sleep. I’ve not seen the sun or the sky or the outdoors since I was in the tunnel. Am I still underground? Is Set the god of the dead? Am I dead? All the creatures and people I’ve seen look like pictures from Egypt. Wasn’t the Egyptian religion all about death?

Dike said I would get powers, but Apep said I didn’t have any. But I did translocate, and that’s a power. Was Apep lying? What kind of powers might I have? What kind of powers did the others have? I knew they could kind of talk to each other with their minds. Apollo could heal, but that was special to him. Dike could kill, and that was part of her job. What powers might Mars have? Would I have the same powers as he did?

Why couldn’t I translocate?

Set keeps calling me little man, and saying things like I should like him.

I thought about that for a while longer, and realized that Set had never used my name. I wondered why. And wondered if he wanted to have sex with me and if that’s why he brought me here.

I had a lot more questions than answers. But, at least, I had a place to start.

Lucas

Eddie and I moped around the apartment the next day. Alice stopped in, briefly, to say that she would be sleeping at the hospital and would I call if I heard anything. She was dealing with this the only way she knew: keeping her mind occupied with her work.

The second night, Eddie again cried himself to sleep. I tried to reassure him but my words were—not false, but not entirely true, either. I knew it, and I suspect that Eddie did, too. Finally, I gave up and just held him until the crying stopped and his breathing became deep and regular. I was afraid if I moved I’d wake him. Finally, exhausted, I fell asleep, too.

I woke, as usual, at 3:00 AM. I still had my arms wrapped around Eddie. He was hot, way too hot. I felt his forehead. A fever, I thought. He stirred and mumbled something when I left the bed, but he did not wake. Minutes later, I had the thermometer. It was one of those electronic things. I stuck it in his ear. “One hundred two point eight,” the voice said. I hadn’t use the thermometer since my sight had been restored, and had forgotten to turn off the voice.

Eddie woke. “What?” he asked.

“You have a fever,” I said. I have to get him to the hospital! Quickly! But I can’t leave here because Mark might return. I grabbed the cell phone, and pushed the third speed dial.

Ben’s voice was crisp. “Mark has not returned. Eddie—what?”

“No, Mark is still missing, but Eddie’s sick. High temperature. I need to get him to the hospital. He’s half a degree short of dangerous, and only a few degrees short of homeostatic breakdown. But I’m afraid to leave the apartment in case Mark comes back. And I can’t just send Eddie in an ambulance. Please . . . ?

“Have you called an ambulance?” Ben asked.

“Not yet,” I said.

“Don’t.” He hung up. And stood beside me.

“I thought you had to visualize your destination,” I said. “You’ve never been in my bedroom.”

“It’s not actually seeing,” Ben said. “Not now. I’ve summoned help.”

There was a stir in the air, and a twelve-year-old Apollo stood beside the bed. “I was at a school in England. Slipshod maintenance for years. Boiler explosion. What?”

“Were your duties there completed?” Ben asked.

“Yes, and Death had arrived. I knew there was no more that I could do.”

“Eddie? This is Apollo,” Ben said. “He’s the one who healed Lucas and Mark.”

“May I examine you?” Apollo asked. Eddie nodded.

 

Apollo had dismissed Ben and me from the bedroom. I made tea.

“Ben? I still don’t understand. How did you know to translocate to my bedroom? How did Apollo know?”

Ben held his tea mug in both hands, as if to warm them. “I’ve never really thought about it,” he said, and then smiled. “It’s like you said, we are servants to an old way of thinking, and creatures of habit. We don’t often question the why of something.”

He took a drink of tea before speaking again. “When you called me, something more than a cell phone connection opened. I felt your presence. I heard what you were saying not only on the phone, but also in my mind.”

I remembered that when Mark had disappeared and I’d called Dike, that she knew before I spoke that something was wrong. “I’m not entirely comfortable with you, uh, you people reading my mind,” I said.

“We’re not reading your mind, Lucas. We hear no more than you’re saying. We feel some of the emotions that accompany your words. It’s not unlike me watching your facial expressions and body language when you talk. You convey a lot more than words, you know.” He chuckled. “It’s a police-interrogation thing, I guess.”

I was somewhat mollified, but before I could ask more, Apollo came into the room. He morphed into his adult form and accepted a cup of tea.

“Eddie is asleep, and should be allowed to sleep until he wakes naturally.”

“What was it?”

“A virus. Related to the corona virus. One of the viruses associated with the common cold. This one is less common, but easily treated. The fever was a normal response, but elevated because of the stress he’s under. It will take a couple of days for all symptoms to disappear. I should examine you, too.”

Apollo found that I was free of the virus. He accepted my thanks, declined another cup of tea, and disappeared.

Ben stood as if to leave, but I dissuaded him.

“Ben, I need to understand more about this link you felt between you and me when I called.” A tiny hope was forming in my mind. Could we create a link between Mark and me? If so, could the gods use that link to translocate to him?

We talked. Coffee replaced tea. I offered sandwiches, which Ben accepted. Finally, it seemed that we had exhausted the subject. I knew a little more than before. I scanned my notes.

1. They need to know where they’re going, but they don’t have to have been there before nor do they have to have a clear picture of it. Simply knowing that it is there seems to be sufficient.

2. It helps if they have seen (or can get a visual) of where they’re going, but it’s not necessary.

3. They don’t have to worry about materializing inside a wall or other solid object: they feel a push of some sort when that happens.

4. They don’t have to worry about appearing suddenly to people: they can make themselves invisible. In fact, people cannot see them unless they want people to see them. They’re naturally invisible.

5. There is no limit to the range. Actually, they’ve never tested a limit. No one has, for example, donned a space suit and tried to translocate to the moon.

6. The process is instantaneous.

7. It takes energy. Ben said that whenever he was acting as the Spirit of Law, he received all the energy he needed. After he translocated to Las Vegas to spend a couple of hours in the casinos, he was tired and hungry, and had to rest and eat a little. A few questions from me, and Ben agreed that the energy probably had something to do with his Attributes and Authorities. That’s a tautology, I think.

8. Attributes and Authorities (Dike and others had mentioned them, but I thought it was some mumbo-jumbo they were telling the new guy) were associated with each of the gods and with each job. Ben was not clear on what they were, although he knew what he could do and not do. Translocation was one; changing his appearance was another. Defending himself, and knowing when someone was lying were others. He can kill with a thought. I remember Dike saying she could do that, as well.

10. The “link” that opens whenever I call Ben or Dike on the cell phone is triggered by the phone call. They know who is calling, often before the phone rings. As Ben had said, what they felt through the link was little more than they would have seen had they been present. I think they could dig for more, if they wanted. Ben was a little evasive (or, in fairness, perhaps just uncertain) about that.

11. They could open a link with one another with a thought. Ben could not, however, open a link with Mark.

12. Ben thought it would be a very bad idea to involve Mars in the quest. I agreed to think about that, and resolved to speak to Dike about it.

I thanked Ben, and was left alone with my thoughts, and a sleeping boy in the bedroom.

Mark

The next time Set came to the door, I asked him where was this place. He seemed surprised.

“Why, it’s here. This is the place you are. I don’t understand your question.”

“Are we in Egypt?” I didn’t want to ask about being underground ’cause I didn’t want him to know I didn’t know.

“Ah! You recognize Apep’s minions and your servants as Egyptian, of course. And the clothing. You recognized the clothing.”

I nodded. “In Egypt of your time or of mine?” I didn’t want him to know I wasn’t sure of that, either, but I didn’t know how to ask.

“Of time? Time is limitless, here. It is also immeasurable. The question has no meaning.”

I wasn’t sure I liked that answer. “I mean, if we went outside and talked to people, and asked them what year it was, what would they say?”

Set frowned. “They would say the year in their calendar which, I suspect you would not understand. Again, your questions are without meaning. That which is, was and will be.”

He closed his eyes for a moment. “I suspect that you do not understand. You will come to know the answers to these and all your questions, but it will take time.”

Again, he turned rather abruptly, and left the room.

 

One of the things we did at the gym was T’ai chi ch’uan. I couldn’t do all the moves, but if I held onto something some of the time, I could do most of them. I put aside my questions for a while, and began the sequence of movements. I focused on the discipline and on the taijitu, the symbol of the unity of Yin and Yang. I pretended Lucas and Eddie were beside me like at the Y, and that the three of us were doing the movements in perfect unison. I felt Eddie more than Lucas. I wondered why, and then, I understood. I really was feeling Eddie! And I was feeling him more than Lucas because Eddie was asleep and somehow, I could feel him as he dreamed.

Eddie! I called. Eddie? Can you hear me? I’m lost! There was no answer.

Eddie

I was cold when I woke up. I was in Lucas’s bed—I knew that. I rolled over and touched the clock on the nightstand. Its artificial voice said, Four fifteen pee em.

Four o’clock in the afternoon? I thought at first it was like four in the morning, and Lucas was on his computer. But that didn’t explain where Mark was. Then I remembered. Mark was gone.

“Eddie!” Lucas greeted me when I stumbled into the living room. “How do you feel? You had us worried for a while.”

I remembered. “It wasn’t a dream, was it? I was sick? And that doctor, the kid, he was Apollo, right?”

Lucas nodded. By this time, we had met in the center of the room. Lucas hugged me, and pressed my head into his chest. “Yes, he was Apollo, and you’ll be okay, with a little rest, sleep.”

Sleep! I was asleep, and I had dreamed! “Lucas? I dreamed about Mark. He was in some huge cave with a huge snake. Then this seriously hunky man rescued him and took him home. He . . . he carried Mark to his bed. That’s when I woke up.”

I felt Lucas’s stomach tighten when he sobbed, and knew what I had said hurt him. “Lucas? I’m sorry. That’s what I saw. That’s all I saw!”

“Wait!” Lucas said. “I mean . . . what are you talking about? You dreamed about Mark?”

“I . . . I don’t know. Was it real?” I asked. “Did I really see Mark?”

“That,” Lucas said, “is what we’re going to find out.”

He turned me loose, and pulled out his cell phone.

Lucas

I called Ben. Not only did Eddie know him better than the others, I figured Ben could tease out more details of the dream than I could—and that he could do it better if he and Eddie were alone. I sat at the computer and alternately listened to what they said, and played solitaire. My mind was not up to anything more challenging. When Ben called to me, I hurried into the living room.

“Eddie remembered quite a bit,” Ben said. “He described a snake whose head was perhaps six feet across, whose tongue was thirty feet long, and whose body, although not visible in Eddie’s dream, was perhaps miles long.

“He saw two creatures that were half-men half-birds: men with the legs and feet of birds. They were wearing a shendyt, the traditional Egyptian kilt. Mark was shackled to the wall. At one time, the snake licked him, burning his face. Mark was rescued by a man, apparently entirely human, who chased away the snake, threw one of the bird-men against the wall, removed Mark’s shackles by magic, and took Mark, probably by translocation, to a mansion where Mark was tended by servants who had dog heads on human bodies.

“Mark’s relationship with the man is problematical: he was apparently impressed by the man’s appearance, but somewhat suspicious of the way he presented himself. Eddie’s dream ended when the man laid Mark on a bed.

“I’m sorry, but that’s all Eddie knows.”

“Egypt,” I mumbled. “Mark is in Egypt? But when?”

“When? What do you mean?” Eddie asked.

Rather than answer, I asked Ben, “Where do the gods get their power?”

Ben looked shocked. He stood, speechless.

“Come on, Ben, you told me what you could do. You told me that it took energy to translocate, and that when you weren’t on the job, it took so much energy you had to rest and eat. Where does that energy come from?”

“I don’t know, Lucas. It’s one of those things we never thought about—until we met you.”

Before I could frame my next question, Dike was in the room.

“A good question, Lucas,” she said. “Our powers come from those who created us, who worship us.”

“And just how many worshipers do any of you have, today?” I asked.

“Well, not in the traditional sense—” Dike began.

“Traditional sense, my b—!” I interrupted. “In any sense! How many altars to Zeus, to Dike, to the Fates are there, anywhere? Does anyone still appeal to the Greek gods and goddesses except in the Hippocratic Oath? And, unless I’m mistaken, the only ones mentioned by name in that oath are Apollo, Asclepius, and Panacea. You’re not worshiped.

“I suppose Nomos, as Spirit of the Law, might have some worshipers among the Bar Association when they’re depositing their checks, but not in the traditional sense. Dike said she was created because people pined for justice. Justice—and a goddess of justice—are never more needed than in today’s society. People are probably looking for justice more than anytime since the American Revolution. But they’re not worshiping.”

“Where is this going, Lucas?” Dike’s voice was soft, but I felt the strength that underlay it.

“No one is worshiping you, even though you are perhaps the last, best hope for humankind. How many fewer people do you think would be worshiping the Egyptian gods, especially when Muslims have overwhelmed the entire Middle East? Even if a few worshipers, or small groups of worshipers survived, could they provide the kind of power to snatch Mark from us?”

I answered my own question: “Not today, but perhaps four thousand years ago. Unless this person is getting power from the same source as you.”

I took a deep breath. “I ask again, where do you get your powers?”

There was a long silence. Dike’s expression warned me against interrupting the silence. Finally, Dike spoke.

“Eddie?” Dike said. “I need to take Lucas to see someone. Ben will stay with you. Will you be okay with that?”

Eddie nodded, and then hugged me. “Don’t go where the snake is!” he said.

I knew that his concern was genuine. “Not to worry,” I said. “I won’t.”

 

Dike took my hand, and we were standing outside a huge marble edifice. My head spun for a moment, and then I saw the brass sign under the stone lion: University of Chicago Library.

“I believe you know who Paul Kendrick is?” Dike said.

I nodded. He was a science writer who had commented on my blog a couple of times. I’d responded to both his serious criticism and unabashed praise, and we’d exchanged a few messages.

“He’s here, and I think he’s the best person to answer your question,” Dike said. “Do not discuss anything contemporaneous. We are now four years in your future.”

Oh. I thought. “Have I ever met him?” I asked.

“No.”

“Does he know about you?”

“Yes. No more questions. Simply ask your questions of him.” By this time, we had reached the main reading room. Dike pointed to a figure at one of the tables. It was a young man bent over a laptop computer. Then, she disappeared.

“Please excuse me,” I said. “Are you Paul Kendrick?”

The fellow looked up. “Yes,” he said. He was curt, but not unpleasant.

“I’m Lucas Browning. We’ve exchanged some emails,” I said. He started to speak, but I held up my hand. “Before you say anything, a lady named Dike brought me here to see you—she brought me from four years ago. Please, be careful what you say.”

Paul took a moment to digest what I’d said, closed his laptop, and suggested that we go to the coffee shop in the library basement. Over coffee, we talked.

“Paul, I came here on an errand. I need to know where the gods got their powers. Dike seemed to think you would know.”

Nova sol,” Paul said. His eyes went vacant, as if he were a thousand miles away, looking down on Earth from orbit or something.

“Dark energy,” he said. “Although they don’t know it and don’t understand it. I mean, they know the words, but their understanding of physics is, well, about 4,000 years out of date. And, they’re pragmatists: if it works, it works, and it doesn’t matter how as long as it isn’t evil. And you mustn’t say anything about it until CERN announces the discovery of the Higgs boson. That won’t happen for a couple of years, your time.”

I was familiar with the notion of dark energy and dark matter. There had been speculation since the 1930s, and serious attention paid to them since 1990. Still, it was a theory with little proof. Paul filled in some of the details.

“The gods have developed or inherited some way of tapping into the dark energy field. From a human perspective, it’s unlimited, it’s the same strength everywhere in the universe—”

“What about everywhere in time?”

“Do you mean is it the same today as it was four years ago? According to current theory and the limits of our instrumentation, it would be, yes. Why do you need to know?”

Since I was talking about things that had happened in his past, I figured it would be okay to tell him. “My son—adopted—tried to translocate without knowing where he was going, I think. In any case, he disappeared. I think he may be prisoner of an Egyptian god either in my time or four thousand years ago.”

“You’re Mark’s daddy,” Paul said. “I had guessed that, but didn’t want to say anything. Now I know why Dike and the others kept us apart for the past four years. Please don’t tell her I said that.”

He pressed his lips together for a moment, and then said, “A god named Set pretty much ruled the Egyptian pantheon about 4,000 years ago.”

“You’re telling me—” I began.

“Nothing,” Paul said. He smiled, twisted his mouth in a grimace, and then chuckled. He put a $5 bill on the check, stood, and said, “Next time, it’s your turn to buy. If they let us. See you then?”

I nodded. As Paul walked from the table, a handsome Oriental boy of twelve or so came in, spotted Paul, and rushed to him. The smile on the boy’s face reminded me of something, and created an ache in my heart. He loves Paul. I knew that as sure as I knew that I was in the wrong time. He loves Paul like Mark loves me—but his love is not unrequited.

Dike’s appearance kept me from having to brood on this. We were no longer in Chicago on a winter afternoon, but in Chicago of my time.

Mark

What did Set mean when he said that time was not measurable, that he didn’t know when we were, and that I would come to understand, but that it would take time? When he said all that, he reminded me of someone, but who? Then I remembered.

It had been a Sunday morning. Lucas was working on something on the computer and I was watching television. Lucas didn’t have cable, so the only thing that came in were a couple of local channels. Both of them were carrying religious programs. I remembered the one I was watching.

Almost everything was pink, like somebody had chugged a case of Pepto-Bismol and blown it all over the set. This woman with hair a mile high sat in a throne. Well, not a real throne, just a fancy chair that looked like a throne, and told people how much money she needed to carry on her ministry.

She kept saying that things would be made clear ‘in the fullness of time,’ as if that meant something. She said that the second coming was right around the corner, and I wondered if people would have time to mail in their checks before the world ended. But she said the ministry took credit cards and gave an 800 number. I knew she was lying, and I knew Set was lying. He knows where we are, and he knows when we are, I thought. And I’ve got to tell Eddie!

Lucas

Paul’s hint saved me some search time, since I was able to enter Google knowing about Set. I found him. And the snake, and others associated with them. How many would we face? How many were there and how many would ally with Set? Fortunately, it appeared that the rivalry among the Egyptian gods was greater than that which Edith Hamilton described between the Greek gods.

Ben left after I returned home. Eddie sat beside me, quietly watching my searches, and then went down to the deli to fetch things for our supper. Neither of us felt like cooking, and going out was out of the question.

My eyes were dry, and the eye-drops were only marginally helpful. As soon as I could see, again, I looked at the clock in the upper right of the iMac screen. 3:00.

“Eddie! You should be in bed!”

“So should you,” he said. “And as long as you’re awake, I’m going to be awake, so there.”

I reached over and ruffled his hair. “Come on, son, time for both of us to sleep.” The blog can just take care of itself.

“Can we bathe, first?” Eddie asked. I nodded, and let him take my hand and lead me into the bathroom.

 

Eddie

Daddy was about to fall asleep, so I did most of the bathing. The tub was huge—Daddy called it a garden tub, and it was big enough to grow a couple of trees in. I rinsed us off with the spray, and handed Daddy one of the towels. He was still damp when we crawled into bed without bothering with pajamas.

 

Daddy was holding me and saying, “Eddie! Wake up! It’s a dream! Wake up!”

And I woke up.

“Daddy! Mark’s in trouble!” I said. “He’s afraid of the man, he’s afraid the man will, uh, force him to have sex. He’s afraid he will be hurt. He’s afraid the man will make him like him.”

“Mark is afraid. He’s sad. He’s afraid he’ll never see us, agai—”

Daddy got out of bed and nearly fell over the clothes we’d left on the floor. I followed him into the living room where he searched for his cell phone. Before he found it, Ben appeared.

“Cell phone? On your desk,” Ben said. The fact that Daddy and I were standing in the living room naked (and both with stiffies!) didn’t seem to bother him. Wonder what he thought.

Lucas

I brought Eddie a set of sweats, dressed, made coffee, and then sat in the kitchen while Ben teased out the details of Eddie’s dream. It was nearly an hour before Ben called me into the office. He and Eddie were sitting at the computer looking at an aerial photograph.

“They are under the ruins of an ancient Egyptian temple across the river from Naqada,” Ben said. “Eddie dreamed he was flying over Egypt. We duplicated the dream using Google Earth until he recognized something.”

“There’s one of those Muslim churches there, now,” Eddie added. “It’s called something like el gonorrhea.” He giggled. “It was nearly nighttime. The street lights were coming on.”

Lucas

The town was full of mosques, but it took only a few minutes to figure that “el gonorrhea” was “El-Gomhoreya.”

“He’s here,” Eddie said, pointing to the image on the computer screen.

“Ben? Can you take me there? Perhaps Mark cannot translocate away but—”

“I cannot,” Ben said. “I have already tried. Something is blocking me.”

“The Moirai—the Fates?” I asked. They had blocked Apollo from healing Mark’s legs until I had won their riddle contest.

“No, it is not they,” Ben said. “Something else. It’s as if I were trying to translocate into the heart of a mountain.”

“If Mark’s afraid, why can he not translocate away? What power is stopping him?” I asked.

Ben’s answer did not make me feel any better. “If Mark is uncertain of where he is, he may be afraid to translocate. If he’s uncertain of when he is, he may be more afraid. If he has recognized those creatures as being from Egyptian history, he may think he is millennia away from us.”

Mark

I thought I felt Eddie—

“You called out to your friend,” Set said. The dog men had brought my lunch, and Set had had followed them into the room, breaking his promise.

“Your friends cannot help you. You cannot remove yourself from this place—I have felt you try, and fail. These are facts. I have offered to be your friend. That is a fact. You have two choices: to live or to die. If you live, you have two choices: to be my friend or to be my servant. I will not permit any other relationship.”

That I believed. What he said next, I thought was a lie.

Set seemed to sigh. “Little man, I am constrained by rules and forces just as you are. We are very much alike in that regard.”

He swept his arm toward the dog men. “I cannot be friends with these creatures. They lack the spark of intelligence that you possess. Nor can I be friends with Apep or his minions. Apep is intelligent, but his is an evil intelligence. Your only logical choice is to live and to become my friend. However, the choice is yours. I will allow you one more day-night cycle.”

He stepped closer, until I could have touched him had I stretched out my arm. He lifted his arm as if he wanted to touch me. He smiled. “Little man, you know I desire you. I know that you desire more than you have been given. I also know that you fear me. Please set aside that fear, and make your decision with your head, and not your heart.”

He turned, and walked from the room.

 

I couldn’t eat the food even though I felt like I was starving. I was so upset. I thought about what he had said. I knew there was something wrong with it, but I didn’t know what. What was true, and what was a lie? What was right, and what was wrong? I lay on the bed, and closed my eyes, and dreamed.

§§§§§

He was a young man, scarcely more than a boy. He wore a tunic like Aiden and Apollo had, except that it covered only one shoulder, leaving his left chest and shoulder bare. The tunic wasn’t any longer than theirs, either. A garland of bright red flowers wrapped around his head. I recognized the flowers: poppies, like the old soldiers sold on Memorial Day because they grew in graveyards or something. What was that poem?

The boy smiled, and spoke. “In Flanders Fields the poppies grow, among the tombstones, row by row.”

He sat in the grass where more of the flowers grew. He gestured to me, and I sat beside him.

“Am I dead?” I asked.

He laughed. His laugh was like bells. “No,” he said. “The poppy is also the flower of sleep. Probably because opium is made from the juice of a poppy—but not these.”

“If I am not dead, why am I here?”

“You are here to learn your powers, your Attributes and Authorities,” he said.

“Huh?” I felt like an idiot.

“You knew you were going to get powers, didn’t you?” he asked.

“Yeah, but I thought . . . I mean, is all this, the snake and Set and being afraid so I could get powers? That’s not fair! Oh, and who are you, anyway? Why should I believe you?”

“I was Morpheus, god of sleep,” the boy said. “And life is not fair, for you or for the gods. We are bound by rules and forces we do not understand.”

“Set said that,” I said.

“That much of what he said is true. Now, we haven’t much time. Set will come to wake you and ask you, again, to trust him and to be his friend. You must equivocate—”

“What’s that?”

“Say neither yes nor no. Tell him you need more time. Tell him you’re hungry, and ask that they bring you food. Tell him you feel dirty and want a bath. Do whatever you can to delay the decision. Tell him he promised you until tomorrow. Now please listen to me, and do not interrupt again.

“Set is right that you cannot leave this place. He is right that Lucas, Eddie, even Dike and Apollo cannot enter this place. However, if you work from inside, and they work from outside, there is a way for you to escape. But Apep and his minions lie between there and here.”

“That is all I can say. I never wanted the role of deus ex machina, nor did I want to return to this reality. Here, receive your powers and use them well and wisely.”

He pointed his finger at me, and a spark jumped from him to me. He was gone, and I woke.

§§§§§

At first, I couldn’t remember where I was. Memories that were not mine raced through my head. Before I could settle them, Set came into the room.

“You slept? You have decisions of great import to make. If you have time to sleep, perhaps you are ready to decide. What will you be? My friend or my servant?”

I noticed that he didn’t say anything about the other option: the “dead” option.

“Um, I was really tired. I didn’t sleep well last night, and I didn’t eat lunch. I’m very hungry. Please, may I have food?”

A minute passed, and I wondered what Set was thinking. He turned abruptly, and left the room. Moments later, the dog-men were back with food.

 

Disclaimers and Notes: Lucas’s concern that Eddie’s fever might result in homeostatic breakdown is based on a question the “intelligent design” crowd has never satisfactorily answered. A fever of only a few degrees can create a positive feedback that pushes body temperature continually higher. When body temperature reaches 113°F (45°C), cellular proteins deform, causing their active site to change, thus causing metabolism to stop, resulting in death.

Pepto-Bismol, Google Earth, and any other trademarks used herein are the property of their owner(s).

The poem “In Flanders Fields” was written by Canadian soldier/physician Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae in 1915 CE after the Second Battle of Ypres. There are variations among the Earth Analogues. In one, for example, the second line reads, “Between the crosses, row on row.” All of the (known) versions end the same way with a challenge from the dead soldiers:

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Copyright © 2013 David McLeod; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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