Modern Mythology Part 1

MARCH 21, 1941, 8:30 AM

The light woke him. He opened his eyes and blinked several times to adjust to the brightness in the room. He had no idea where he was; a small room filled with boxes and shelves holding electronics and other pieces of equipment. The cot on which he lay was the only piece of furniture.

He turned to the one window and simply stared at the morning light spilling into the room. It was something he never thought he’d see again. You were wrong, Mother Bones, he thought. Whatever had happened to him, he had been consumed by darkness…but he had made it through. He was alive.

“How are you feeling?”

Turning, he saw a young man standing in the doorway to the room, leaning against the frame, arms folded across his chest. Dressed in a black jumpsuit, the man was young, no more than twenty years. The young man looked familiar, but he couldn’t think of why. The youth’s eyes were steel gray and they regarded him thoughtfully.

Patrick Malone sat up in the bed. He was sore, the movement took a bit of effort, but for the most part, he felt fine. “Okay, I guess,” he said, his throat raw. The young man pointed to a shelf beside the bed where there was a glass of water. Malone took the glass and drank it all in two large swallows. He coughed once and set the glass back down. “Thanks.”

The young man nodded and took a few steps into the room. “Do you remember what happened to you?” he asked.

Malone gave the question some thought. The last thing he remembered was going down a set of cellar stairs. Something had happened in that cellar…he remembered a man dressed all in black…and a hand with a glowing brand on it. Beyond that, he could only recall brief flashes of the last two days. He couldn’t make sense of these fleeting images, though, couldn’t place them into a larger context that explained them. He had seen this young man in the last two days, though, of that he was sure. Besides that, all he could remember was…darkness. “Not really,” he answered. “I remember you being there, though, and some other…people.”

The young man nodded. “We helped you,” he said. “You were in great danger and we helped you. I’ll explain more when the time is right.” The young man sighed deeply and turned back toward the door. “In the meantime, I’ve got some explaining to do to the others, now. You should get some more rest…you’ve been through a lot.”

“Wait,” Malone said before he could leave. “Who are you?”

The man turned back and faced him. He hesitated a moment before answering. “I’m called Paradox.” He stepped back toward Malone and extended his hand. With his arms away from his chest, Malone saw a tear in the fabric of his jumpsuit, on the left side of his chest. That tear teased his memory…there was something about it, but he didn’t know what. “And you?”

“Malone,” he said and took the offered hand. “Patrick Malone.”

“Get some sleep, Mr. Malone,” the man called Paradox said. “We’ll talk more when you wake.”

Alone again, Malone lay back down on the cot. He felt exhausted, he realized. But he was alive. Whatever had happened to him, he had faced it as Mother Bones had said he must, and he had survived. The darkness hadn’t consumed him. It was that thought that helped him close his eyes and let the darkness of sleep take him.

*****

Andy Marovich kept his arms raised above his head as David Barry wrapped his middle torso with a bandage. I got knocked through a wall, he thought. I got knocked through a wall and fell about fifty stories. David finished his work, and Andy lowered his arms.

“That should help,” Dave said and patted him on the shoulder. “You should have much worse than a few cracked ribs, though, you know.”

Andy nodded. “I know…and I would have, if it wasn’t for you. Thank you.”

Dave shrugged. “You’ve thanked me enough, Andy,” the blonde haired man said. “More than enough, really…I just did what anyone would have done if they could have.”

Andy couldn’t help but laugh at that, which hurt his newly bandaged wounds. “I don’t know about that…I find it pretty hard to believe that anyone else could have pulled that off.”

They both turned at the sound of footsteps entering the room. The young man who was called Paradox entered. Dave eyed him intently. “I’d say there was a lot about last night that was hard to believe,” he said absently.

Nearby, Sara was sitting with Champion, who refused to take off his mask or his gear. The soldier had been up nearly the entire night watching over the rest of them. He seemed to need even less sleep than Andy did, although Dave had enough cots in his workshop for all of them. Sara was the only one who seemed to get a full night’s sleep. She still looked exhausted, though. She raised a hand and pushed her unkempt dark hair from her face as she turned toward Paradox. “How is he?” she asked.

“Sleeping,” Paradox said with a weak smile. “He was awake for a moment, though. It seems like he’s back to normal.”

Dave took an aggressive step toward Paradox. “Why should we care?” he asked. “That thing nearly killed us all!”

Paradox raised a hand defensively. “I already explained, Steelhawk, he wasn’t in control of his actions.”

Dave slammed a fist into a nearby tabletop. “I told you not to call me that,” he said. “The Steelhawk is just a tool I use…my name is David Barry.”

Paradox hesitated only a moment before nodding in acquiescence. “I’m sorry, David.”

Sara turned to the scientist, her brows furrowed. “Take it easy, Dave,” she said. “He’s done nothing but help us so far.”

The fire went out of Dave when she spoke. “All right, all right,” he said, turning away from them.

He’s got a thing for her, Andy realized. Something to keep in mind.

Dave turned back to the group. “I just think we deserve some answers,” he said, much more calmly. “He asked us to show up at the Spire and then we get attacked by some kind of monster that nearly kills us all. I need to know why.”

“I agree,” Champion said, the first words Andy had heard him say since last night.

Paradox looked about at each of them in turn. “You’re right,” he said. “I’ll try to explain what I can…but there is so much. I don’t really know where to begin.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Andy spoke up. “How about you tell us what we are? Why can I do these crazy things?”

Paradox nodded. “Okay…it’s as good a place to start as any.”

Dave took a seat beside Andy and crossed his arms over his chest. Sara turned her chair to face Paradox. The young man shook his head briefly and then leaned back against a nearby work table.

“Okay...with the exception of Sara,” he began, nodding at the girl as he mentioned her, “each of you possesses something known as The Blood. This is what grants you your special abilities.”

“The Blood?” Andy asked. “What does that mean?”

“In the early stages of human evolution, there was one group that was much more advanced than the rest. They were blessed with abilities far beyond normal…they were stronger and faster than the average man, lived much longer, and had even greater gifts that defied understanding. These beings, over time, came to be called the Atlanteans, because they made their home on the central continent of Atlantis.”

Dave coughed. “What?” he said angrily. “What the hell are you trying to tell us here?”

Paradox continued as if Dave had not spoken. “The Atlanteans spread out from their continent and settled down in other areas of the world. Most saw it as their responsibility to look after the rest of mankind. They came to be considered gods by many cultures, and were often worshipped as such. Many, however, didn’t see themselves as any kind of higher power, and they interacted with the rest of humanity as equals. In either case, there was often…mating…between the Atlanteans and the regular humans. The children from such unions sometimes displayed the strange powers of their Atlantean parent, though usually to a much lesser extent, and many times not at all. Over time, such a person came to be known as being ’of Atlantean Blood’ or, simply, ’of The Blood’.

“Then there was a great cataclysm that destroyed much of Atlantis and killed most of the True-Bloods, as the full Atlanteans had come to be known. With the Atlantean population reduced so greatly, there were less and less children born of The Blood. Over time, their presence faded away almost entirely.

“Periodically throughout history, though, The Blood has resurfaced in different parts of the world. It seems to be happening again…and the three of you are all examples of that.”

“Nonsense,” Dave said. “Pure fairy-tale nonsense.”

Andy ignored him. “So you’re telling me that my great, great, great, great grandfather was a god?”

Paradox chuckled at that. “No, no…not at all. First of all, you would have to go back much further than that…countless generations ago, most likely. Second, as I said, they may have been considered gods in some parts of the world, but they were not actually gods. They didn’t create the world or mankind…many just served as…shepherds, you could say…to the rest of mankind.”

“That is crazy,” Sara whispered.

“Exactly,” Dave said, mistaking her shock for disbelief. He stood and pointed a finger at Paradox. “I can’t even believe that I just listened to that. I don’t even have any special abilities…it’s all done with my inventions.”

“Right,” Paradox said. “And where do you think those come from? Your special ability is the creation of those fantastic machines you have.”

This seemed to take the wind out of Dave’s sails for a moment. He stepped back, stammering for a reply.

“If The Blood can make Champion stronger than normal, or Fade faster than normal…why can’t it make you smarter than normal?”

“I can’t accept that,” Dave said at last. “I just can’t.”

“No matter how crazy it sounds,” Sara said to him, her voice calm and soothing, “you can’t deny that it is possible. Look at what’s going on around us, Dave. Something is going on that is way beyond what we know.”

“I know how it sounds, trust me,” Paradox said. “But it’s all true. Think about how each culture has had myths and legends about gods or heroes with abilities like what we have. There’s a reason for that…they are retellings of the stories of the Atlanteans.”

“Wow,” was all Andy could think of to say. He wasn’t sure if he believed it, but it made sense. “So you’re saying that we all possess The Blood?”

Paradox nodded. “Except for Sara…whose abilities come from her contact with that golden metal.”

“So what is that stuff?” Andy asked, turning his attention to her. “And where did it go?”

They all turned to her and she shuffled in her seat nervously. “I don’t really know what it is,” she said. She peeled back the collar of her rumpled blouse, revealing a small golden disc about the size of a half dollar fixed to her skin just below the collar bone. “It’s inside me…in my blood. This is where I was shot the other night…I was holding a canister of the stuff, but it broke when I fell. The stuff just…it flowed into the wound…I think it kept me alive.”

Dave walked over and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She reached up and placed her hand over his. He looked at the others. “I ran a few tests on her,” he said. “Whatever the liquid is, it seems to have bonded with her blood. It’s coursing through her veins right now.”

“I think…” Sara began quietly, “I think it might be alive…it…it talks to me.”

“You didn’t tell me that,” Dave said, taking his hand from her shoulder.

Paradox stepped closer to her. “What do you mean it talks to you, Sara?”

“I don’t really know,” she said. “It’s not like words or anything…I just get…feelings, impressions…like it has its own desires. It’s…it’s really weird.”

“You found it in your uncle’s lab, right?” Paradox asked, crouching in front of her so he could look her in the eye. “So when we find him, we’ll know exactly what it is. Okay?”

Her eyes had filled up but she wiped the tears away with the back of her hand. “Okay,” she said quietly.

Champion spoke up for the first time since Paradox had begun his story. “You say you know where Professor Klein is, but you haven’t really said much more.”

Paradox stood. He shook his head. “I don’t know exactly where he is.”

“What do you know?” Champion asked, his blue eyes narrowing behind his mask.

“There are agents in Century City, working on behalf of the nations that oppose America and its allies. They know about The Blood and even have their own operatives who have powers like us. They are the ones who took Professor Klein.”

“But America is neutral…we aren’t at war,” Andy said.

Champion looked at him. “We will be soon…only a matter of time. Believe me.” He turned back to Paradox. “Do you know who these agents are?”

“No,” Paradox replied. “That wasn’t information that…that was available to me.”

“Then how are we supposed to find them?” Champion asked, standing from his chair.

Andy spoke up. “I fought one of them, I think, the other night. He was faster than me and could make the sound go away. Nearly killed me…”

“I saw one, too,” Sara said. “He was the one who accosted me in my uncle’s lab. He spoke German…and told me he would take me to my uncle. That was when you showed up, Paradox.”

He nodded. “And he wasn’t alone. But we don’t have to worry about either of them anymore.”

“Why not?” Andy asked.

Paradox turned his cold gray eyes to him. He hesitated before answering. “I killed them.”

“You...uh, really?” Andy was a bit shocked. He killed them? he thought. Is that what he expects us to do? I don’t know if I can kill anyone…

“None of this solves our problem,” Champion said as he started pacing the room. “We don’t have any idea where to find these guys, and we have no idea if the professor is even still alive.”

“Don’t say that!” Sara shouted at him.

He shrugged. “I’m sorry, miss, but its true. We don’t really know where to start looking for him.”

“I might be able to help you out with that.”

They all turned to see the middle aged man standing in the doorway. The ruined clothes he had worn the night before had been replaced by one of Dave’s lab coats. “I know a name that you could start your search with.”

“And what name is that, mister?” Dave asked as he stepped toward the man aggressively.

“Alexander C. Hilles.”

*****

“You have failed me again, Left.”

Hilles stood at the large window in his office looking out over Century. His dark suit made him look like a shadow in the bright morning light that came in through the window. He turned and looked over his shoulder at Mr. Left, his eye glowing with a sickly red light.

“I know, sir,” Left said in response. He knew that he had to be careful here…that one wrong step could cause Hilles’s battle rage to overtake him and cause him to kill Left on the spot. He did not fear dying…death was an ally to him…but he did not want to die here and now. There was so much yet to learn…so much work left to do…

“You have helped my plans much, Left,” Hilles said as he turned back into the room. “But your recent string of failures have threatened all I’ve accomplished here. Who knows what information they may get if the private investigator is still alive? He knows about your house…he may even know about me.”

“Possibly,” Left said. “But unlikely, milord.”

“Possibly,” Hilles repeated. “Possibly…I don’t like hearing that, Left.”

“I understand that, sir, but I won’t lie to you. There is some good news, though.”

Hilles arched an eyebrow. “Oh…and what’s that?”

“If Malone is still alive, I can find him. My magic should still be with him…I can trace it with a simple spell.”

Hilles nodded. “Good…do it. How long will it take?”

“No more than an hour, I expect.”

“Very well. I will have Errikos gather the Halfbloods. Wherever this so-called Pantheon is, I will send more than enough to see the job done.” He took a seat behind his massive oak desk. “Let me know when you have a location, Left.”

Mr. Left nodded. “Very well, sir.” He turned to leave.

Hilles’s voice stopped him. “And Left,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “That was the last time you fail me. Do you understand?”

Again, he nodded. “Completely, sir.”