Beyond The Impossible

Argos, 100 light-years from Earth

Noriko Null is still on her bed, recovering from her wounds and watching Max Black a.k.a. Quantum pace back forth while venting his frustration.

<…irresponsible and reckless! Selene was this close to killing you, and instead of calling for help what do you do? You try to punch out a goddess!!!>

<In my defense, it almost worked> she replies.

<Why would you do something so stupid? You have the God Eraser, for crying out loud! Why did you have to invent some stupid Super Gloves to…>

<Gravity Gauntlets> she corrects him.

<Whatever! Why risk your life with a move like that!?>

<I needed to send a message: that mortals can’t be bullied whenever a god decides to show up.>

<I thought you did that when you killed Demeter.>

<No, that only showed that the God Eraser was a dangerous weapon. It’s not a solution for everything, we know that: it helped me defeat Hermes, but it didn’t kill him.>

<Well congratulations, now you can’t use that thing anymore. Tyche said that if you try to use it again, your body won’t survive the stress.>

<We’ll see about that. In a way it did work, though: killing Selene showed the rest of the Galaxy that taking over the Alliance is not an easy task.>

<The Republic> Max corrects her.

<What?>

<Syzar calls it the Republic now. He signed some sort of agreement with the Guild and with Tyche, setting up the new borders.>

<I wasn’t informed. When did this happen?>

<While you were under surgery. Maybe you could’ve done something about it, if you weren’t half dead thanks to your brilliant plan.>

There’s something in Max’s voice that Noriko has never heard before, a mixture of anger and disappointment. And she can’t really blame him.

<I should’ve trusted you guys, and for that I am sorry. But I did what I had to do in order to save this planet. I will not apologize for my actions.>

<You never do>– Max responds, leaving the room by angrily slamming open its door.

Noriko sighs, resting her head on the cushion and closing her eyes.

“It must be hard for him” a voice says in her head.

<Go away, Eve. I’m not in the mood.>

“You know his brother was killed in front of him, right? He doesn’t like seeing people get hurt when he thinks he has a way to help them”

<Do you have a point, or do you just want to torment me?>

“You know he’s right. It was a really stupid idea”

<You could’ve told me before I screwed up.>

“And you would’ve trusted one of the voices in your head? You’re crazier than I thought, and I’m just a figment of your imagination”

<No, I would never listen to…>

Noriko doesn’t end the sentence. Her silver eyes shine: she just realized something. She gets out of bed and immediately regrets it, fighting vertigo. Her hospital gown leaves her back exposed, showing the four mechanical devices implanted into her spine. They glow faintly, regulating the excess of electric current still running through her nervous system.

She regains her composure, as much as it’s humanly possible dressed like that. She recovers one of her personal effects: a necklace, with the symbol Ø on one side and a cog with a lightning bolt on the other one. She holds it in her hand, and pronounces a single word:

<Athena.>

 

The image of the Goddess of Wisdom appears in front of Noriko, a cluster of holographic points of light that don’t try to pass for the real deal. She looks around, but while she keeps her inscrutable blank expression it’s clear this isn’t what she expected.

<Your penchant for injuring yourself is starting to become worrying, Noriko.>

<You lied to me.>

Athena looks at Noriko in the eye, frowning.

<I am a very busy goddess. But I promised I’d be there for you whenever you called, and here I am.>

<You told me I had to take care of Selene because you would need to draw considerable resources in order to stop her. But actually, you could’ve taken her down without breaking a sweat, isn’t it? So tell me, why did you exaggerate her threat?>

<I wasn’t worried about Selene. Defeating her would’ve put the entire Alliance under my responsibility, and that would’ve been simply too much territory to control effectively.>

<Nice try, but I’m not buying it. It explains why you didn’t intervene personally, but not why you told me I was the only one who could take care of her. You know what I think?>

<I’m curious to know where this is leading, to be honest.>

<I think it was a test. You wanted to make sure I could still kill a god using the Eraser. After all, the last time I did was with Demeter; Hephaestus was killed by a black hole, and the Eraser didn’t work completely with Hermes. And I don’t think you were counting on me to pass that test.>

<That is a harsh judgment, Noriko. Haven’t I supported you many times in the past?>

<When I was taking care of your competition, yes. But you’re starting to see me as a threat.>

<You are an amazing mortal, Noriko, one of the greatest champions of your kind. But don’t fool yourself. I play a game with forces leagues above your comprehension.>

<Like Ereshkigal?>

Athena is visibly shocked to hear that name, and doing a very bad job at hiding it.

<Stay out of this, Noriko. There are things mortals are not yet ready for.>

<I know. And it’s my job to take care of them. I can’t do that if you keep lying to me, Athena.>

The goddess and her protégé exchange a tense stare, and it’s the goddess that looks away.

<I was wrong about you, Noriko. You are far stronger than I expected and yes, that makes you a threat. If we both have to be honest, I know you have a contingency plan to take care of me.>

<The thought has crossed my mind> Noriko nods.

<I did not expect the rise of mortals to be so quick. I’ve done my part to keep Olympus out of your way, but my family isn’t the only one keeping an eye on this galaxy.>

<I assume this is where Ereshkigal fits into all of this?>

<My family rules over the Olympian, Aegian and Stygian galaxies. But that is just a third of the dominion of gods, which we call the Nine Kingdoms. Ereshkigal is the supreme ruler of the Irkalla Galaxy, one of the three under the rule of the Sumerian Gods. Should one of the galaxies be attacked, all of its allies would come to its rescue.>

<So Ereshkigal can’t attack the Olympian Galaxy directly. But she can work behind the scenes to weaken it just enough to make it less of a threat> Noriko understands.

<A war between pantheons would tear the stars asunder. It must be avoided at all costs.>

<Still, having Selene take over a few sectors wouldn’t be much of a change…>

<Ereshkigal is over four billion years old. Compared to her, even I am just an infant: she plays a much longer game than anyone else. If we rush, she will not hesitate to destroy us.>

<Is this the part where I’m supposed to be intimidated?>

Athena smiles. It’s the first fully human reaction Noriko’s ever seen from her.

<I have grown fond of you, child. I promise I will treat you more fairly in the future: I would hate seeing you suffer again> Athena says, as her hand approaches Noriko’s face to caress it. Her hologram disappears before she does.

“Uhm… what was that?” a voice inside her head asks.

<A warning, or a threat, or maybe both. With Athena, you can never tell.>

 

Athenian Presidential Palace, 80.000 light-years from Earth

Athena steps off the holographic projector, walking towards one of the columns. The busy life of the capital of an interstellar empire surround the building, with heavy traffic of levitating cars and vehicles that clog the sky.

A woman approaches her, carrying an electronic device in her hands. She could be mistaken for a secretary wearing conservative office clothing, if it wasn’t for the wings of fire on her back.

<Nike, set up a meeting with Dionysus. Things are clearly getting out of control.>

 

Yamanashi Prefecture, Japan

Several celebrities have taken advantage of the private clinic built here by the Tanaka Foundation, and not just for its high level of health care or the stunning view of Mount Fuji. But mostly because security is airtight: nobody knows what happens behind its walls. Especially the private wing that’s under constant surveillance by armed guards whose uniform hides the distinctive Yakuza tattoos.

Even Leiko Tanaka, the Minister of Defense, has to show her ID to enter the room.

It’s dark. The only lights come from the medical equipment that monitors the vital signs of the patient, a Japanese woman in her sixties laying on the bed.

<The stars are rebelling… build more gods…> she mumbles. Leiko Tanaka comes closer to her, coldly checking the vital signs. The only human touch is fixing the woman’s white hair.

<How are you feeling today, mother?>

<The Drylon rule supreme… we are cosmic dust… seal the edge… the edge of the universe…>

<Calm down, mother. I have everything under control> Leiko reassures her, taking something from the suitcase she’s carrying. It’s a metallic sphere, damaged enough to show complex machinery inside it, glowing green. As soon as the old woman touches it, her voice becomes inhumanly low.

<Noriko Tanaka. Born Noriko Wakahisa. Biological hardware has sustained heavy damage.>

<Be careful, Core. You are talking about my mother.>

<This unit is too primitive to be salvaged. The neurological degeneration is too extensive.>

<It will have to do. Can you use it to repair yourself?>

The woman looks at her hands, as if this is the first time she’s ever done it in her life.

<I need a superior being and you give me an insect. How typical of such a pitiful species.>

<Can you repair yourself or not, Core?>

<I can, in time. But the effort will undoubtedly destroy what little remains of your mother.>

<Do it. She knew what she was getting into when she married into the Tanaka family.>

 

Narsarsuaq Airport, Greenland

Kristen Lynn puts down her suitcase and adjusts her coat, stroking her hands in the futile attempt to get a little warmth: it’s even colder than she thought.

<Need a hand?> a familiar voice asks her. Kristen turns to see her, recognizing Kari Zel despite the heavy winter clothes.

<Don’t try to tell me you keep duplicates here, because I know you’ve been following me.>

<Of course I have! Why else would I be freezing my butt out here?>

<You’d have to ask your friend. You know Null Transport spent a hundred million dollars expanding this airport?>

<That doesn’t sound like something that sells newspapers, Kristen.>

<Maybe not. But see, I found out two very interesting things looking into Null’s books: one, she employs over a thousand people in Greenland. Two, despite the fact that Null Technology is one of the most gender equal companies in the world… every single employee in Greenland is male.>

<So let me get this straight: you want to write that the world’s smartest and richest girl is sexist?>

<Or that she’s hiding an alien device that can only be activated by pregnant women, whatever you think is more likely.>

Kari laughs nervously, to dismiss the ridiculous claim, but the look in her eyes is all Kristen was looking for. Because Kari just told her that she’s on the right track.