Modern Goddess: Trapped by Thor (Book One) (15 page)

Hades spread his lips wide and laughed
softly. “Yes,” he cocked an eyebrow, “That was fun. The kind of
good old traditional fun that we don't get to see these days.” He
crossed his arms and kept his eyebrows raised, though his
expression was far less amused now.

“
Oh for crying out loud,” I
replied, “Are you still bitter about me rejecting your application
for sea monster races in the Strait of Gibraltar? Times have
changed, Hades, and if we expect to survive as a race, then we have
to—“

Hades showed his teeth in a wide tight
grin. It was much less of a grin and more of an upside-down frown.
“Times have changed. That's why we are here,” he pointed an elegant
finger my way, “And more specifically, that is why you – Goddess
Officina of Details and Facts – are tied to the wall.”

I couldn't believe this, I just couldn't
believe this. When the hell were the gods of Earth going to grow
up? “You cannot be serious? You kidnapped me to get back at the
Immigration Office—“

“
You are slow, Goddess of Facts.
I suppose that is your weakness: you only deal with what you have
and cannot think beyond that. You get lost in the details,” he ran
a hand over the intricate pattern engraved into his skull brooch,
“And you cannot see the bigger picture. Do you think three of the
most powerful gods on Earth kidnapped you because we are sore at
our visa applications being rejected?”

I opened and closed my mouth. As much as I
hated to admit it, he had me on that one. Up until a second ago,
I’d genuinely thought this was some sort of grand
administrative-revenge mission. I hadn’t thought beyond that
obvious conclusion to entertain any others.

He tried again to flatten his hair. “There
is a new world order, I’m afraid,” he stared glumly out the window,
“Times have changed. As you say, we have to live by a new set of
rules to survive. Let me ask you this, Goddess of Facts, who makes
those rules? Who drafted the grand axioms of the Integration
Office?”

It was an easy enough answer: “We did. The
gods did.”

He nodded. “We made the rules,” he let his
lips curl into a bare smile, “And I believe that means we can
change them too.”

I blinked. “What? We can't—“

“
There was a time not long
ago when the gods were respected.” He brought his hand up and
rested it flat on his chest, somewhat like an orator from ancient
Rome. “There was a time when our wisdom was feared as much as our
power.”

“
Times change.” I rattled
against my chains. “We have to change with them. We can't exert our
power over humanity anymore. We have to let them choose for
themselves.”

“
Do you know why we came up
with the new rules?” Hades’ smile widened. “Do you know why we
decided to step back from humanity and allow their
freewill?”

“
We didn’t give them
freewill,” I said firmly. I was confident I was right. Freewill, or
at least as far as the esoteric god-philosophy line went, was a
fundamental part of reality. The gods hadn't clicked their fingers
one day and made monkeys men, following up with some star-fingers
to give the monkey-men the ability to choose. Freedom was
inherent.

“
True, but by schooling them, by
sharing with them our wisdom, we allowed that faculty to grow.”
Hades lifted his arms in a grand manner and took another step into
the room. “It can take millions of years for a race to learn about
its power of choice. Humanity learnt it in a matter of years, all
because we gods shared our wisdom.”

I rolled my eyes. This was all familiar.
Many gods, especially of the powerful old-school variety, thought
they were, literally, god's gift to humanity. They fancied
everything revolved around them, and without their assistance
(read: interference) humanity would have died off long ago.

“
Now I ask you again, do you know
why we taught them freewill, then stepped back, allowing them to
choose for themselves?” Hades took another step into the room as
his lyrical voice floated over the place.

I frowned
. I wasn't going to be drawn into his
Socratic argument. If he wanted to ramble at me, fine. I'd hang
here chained to his wall and try and think of other
things.

“
We did step back, you realize
that, don't you?” Hades gestured out the window with one slow,
delicate move.

I followed the move and stared at
Sisyphus.

“
I realize that the official
company line no longer recounts that. But, Goddess Officina,
respect this: the fact remains. We gods chose to step back. There
was a time when we were in complete control of Earth.” He slowly
closed his hand into a tight fist, his knuckles pressing up in
great white streaks against his tight skin.

“
We didn't step back,” I said
with a huff, “Humanity changed. Humanity itself found it no longer
needed us,” I pushed forward against my chains, “It no longer
needed all the chaos and goat-sacrificing that we brought along. It
realized that if it could create its own power, live its own
life—“

Hades slowly shook his head, a quiet and
compelling move. “There are many secrets of the gods that you, ah –
what is the word? Small-time divinities do not know.”

“
There aren't any secrets
here,” I said firmly.

“
I'm afraid there are secrets
everywhere.” Hades shrugged easily. “Now, Goddess of Details, pay
attention while I reveal an important one here. Do you think that
we gods, at the height of our reign, lacked believers?”

It was a silly question, so I wasn't going
to answer it.

“
Do you think that when we
battled in the skies and seas of man, that any human being lacked
belief in us?”

“
I suppose it is hard to ignore
when some great lug of a god ruins your potato patch,” I admitted
tersely. “But that doesn't mean anything.”

“
I'm afraid it means the world.
While we chose to be observable to humanity – and it was a choice –
they believed in us, because they had no choice but to. When we
walked, played, and fought amongst them, they couldn’t deny the
sight. While we did, we had all the belief we needed to survive.
While the official Integration Office line is that our power had to
be reined in before we destroyed the people we relied on,” he
dipped his head low, “That I’m afraid is a lie. Gods are powerful.
They are not stupid. We kept humanity safe through the ages with
the occasional sacrifice here and there if you were one of those
bloodthirsty Incan gods. For the most part, humanity survived under
our golden reign, and it did so splendidly.”

I rolled my eyes again. It was funny how
much I was degenerating into a surly teenager while strapped to
this wall and being lectured by Hades. “Humanity—“

“
We stepped back,” Hades patted
his chest, “Because we decided – once we had taught humanity
freewill – it was time to let them exercise it. It was our choice,
and it was not due to the economic pressures of a reduced
population and a resulting crisis in belief. You will appreciate,
especially as the goddess of facts, that the population levels
before the decision to create the Integration Office revealed a
historically stable human population.”

I pressed my lips together. I tried to
access the information he was hinting at – the average human
population during and after the often-called God-Pull-Out.

In truth, while I knew the facts, I’d never
thought of them in the context Hades was using. I’d been a
small-time goddess when the Integration Office had been created,
and for most of the years before it, I’d been in too much of a daze
from my growing power to appreciate more than the detail of sand
blown over a path or the pattern of daisies in a field.

I realized he had a point. I’d seen the
population statistic of Earth before the Integration Office was
created, and Hades was right: it had been stable.

I tried not to look too put out by this
revelation. He was playing on my main problem: my inability to see
the whole picture. Once given a fact, I tended to store it without
questioning it further. It wasn't until I found new information
that my reality changed.

“
What is your point?” I
huffed. As much as I enjoyed being chained to a wall in the
Underworld while Hades lectured me on the true reasons for the
current state of divine legislature, I was starting to get a
backache.

“
My point,” he pressed his
fingers together, “Is that the gods chose to abandon humanity – and
not the other way around. Why do you think that was? What divine
reasons do you think led to such a seemingly self-defeating
strategy?”

“
You were all getting bored
fighting each other every other day and wanted to do something
meaningful,” I spat back haughtily.

“
You will find there is greater
meaning to racing sea monsters in the Strait of Gibraltar than you
assume.” Hades slipped out of character, but fixed himself by
patting his hair and sniffing. “I'll reveal to you another secret,
Goddess of Facts, but only half of it: the gods taught humanity
freewill because freewill feeds the gods.”

I peaked my eyebrows together. He was
making gods out to be a trash-disposal unit able to run on anything
you put in it: belief, freewill, kitchen scraps, old chair legs –
you name it. Except everyone knew it wasn't true. Everyone being
restricted to everyone immortal.

“
Belief is one thing, but
freely-chosen belief is another. That, goddess, is more valuable
than all the ambrosia in Olympia. A freely-chosen belief can run a
god for years,” he said regally.

I snorted. “You make us sound like petrol
engines.”

He shrugged again. “All things need energy
to survive. It just so happens that as gods we need belief. Yes,
over the years we have realized how to make that belief more
powerful and more efficient,” he tapped one hand against the other,
“It's called innovation, goddess, and it doesn't just happen at
MIT. We invented innovation too, of course.” He smiled
easily.

“
You are telling me that we gave
humans freewill so we could increase the efficiency of their
belief, thereby reducing our own running costs as gods, and
enabling us to live on less for longer?” I let my lips drop open,
hopefully to underpin how ridiculous I thought all of this
was.

He tutted. “We didn’t give them freewill.
Come now, you made that point yourself. We only taught them how to
extend it. Do not believe that we did this for selfish reasons. It
was symbiotic. We gave humanity as much as it gave us, and
more.”

I blew a loud breath through my teeth.
“Wow,” I said sarcastically, but then couldn't think of what else
to follow it up with. I wanted to point out that his account was
ridiculous and that I didn't believe him... but the thing was, I
wasn't sure he was wrong. What he was saying seemed to make
sense....

I hung off my chains and stared at him,
trying to make sense of things. I had a whole host of new facts to
deal with, and I needed to integrate them as much as possible.

“
I suppose that you know the
truth on the matter,” Hades looked at his fingernails then picked
something out from one of them – something grey and suspiciously
flesh-like, “You must be hungry to learn the truth of why you have
been brought here.”

I stilled. When Loki had hastily told me
that evil gods don't reveal their evil plans, only super villains
do, I’d believed him. Here was Hades offering to do
otherwise.

I leaned forward as far as I
could, no longer feeling constrained by the chains
that held me in
place. The realization I was about to learn a new fact, a super
important one, was magnifying the power within me.

“
Why, why do you need
me?”

Hades opened his mouth – but the building
gave a sharp shudder.

It threw me violently against my chains.

I watched a look of contained terror cross
Hades’ face as his eyes widened to show a full rim of white.
“Goddamn it,” he spat vehemently.

Another god raced in behind Hades. My heart
soared. It was Zeus. Replete, not in his historical garb of a
trusty toga with a nice laurel wreath, but in his modern get-up of
white yacht pants and a polo shirt.

Never before had I been happier to see....
Nope, my mistake – it was Loki. It was the eyes that gave it away.
They flickered differently. He also didn't wear his polo shirt
right. I'd seen Zeus rest languidly enough against the wall of my
office while I processed his application to know precisely how his
shirt stretched over his generous biceps. I also knew he wore his
short black hair with a dead straight, neat part, and that he would
always look at you with his head cocked to the left.

Hades took one look at Zeus, appeared to
have a moment of terrible shock, then rapidly came to the same
conclusion I had. After all, Zeus hadn't immediately started
throwing lightning around the place and ruining good walls and
Underworld gods in his rage.

“
Do you have to pretend to
be Zeus?” Hades said with a hand flat and stiff on his chest. “It's
frankly creepy.”

“
It has its advantages,” Loki
said as he turned a dapper smile on me. “Impersonating my once best
friend—“

“
You mean my brother, in
this instance.” Hades raised an eyebrow.

“
Thor, Zeus, Jupiter – the same
thing. Doesn't matter. What matters,” Loki stepped to the side as a
stone fell from the ceiling, “Is that we get out of here before
everyone's least favorite brother finds us.”