The Return of the Titans (29 page)

People were walking around, chatting,
laughing. Children ran and played. A cool breeze smelling of salt
blew past Justin's nose and he breathed deeply.

He turned, expecting to see the wall behind
him but instead he saw more buildings and trees. He looked up at
Mr. Fitzgerald, who smiled down at him.

“Where are we, sir?” he
asked anxiously.

“This is Atlantis, lad.
Just months before she sank into the ocean forever.”

Justin gasped. “Atlantis?” He looked all
around and between two buildings he saw the glinting of the sun off
of the sea. “But, why are we here?”

“Come with me and I will
show you.” The man set off and Justin hurried to keep up. He tried
to avoid bumping into any buildings or people, but as they turned a
corner, a girl hurrying along carrying a basket under her arm ran
right into him. Justin saw a spray of sand and felt grit shower
over him. He turned and watched in shock as the sand reformed and
coalesced back into the girl, who continued on and disappeared into
a crowd.

Justin turned back and hurried on, trying to
keep up with Mr. Fitzgerald who seemed not to have noticed the
collision. Finally, ahead Justin could hear raised voices and
shouting. It sounded like a lot of people. He and Mr. Fitzgerald
emerged into what must be the city center. It was packed with
people, all of them facing a building that towered over the square.
Huge steep steps led up from the ground to the building above and
standing at the base of the steps was a very large man.

Mr. Fitzgerald led Justin through the crowd
and they finally stood near the bottom of the steps and looked at
the man. He was standing with his hands on his hips, glaring up the
stairs, his face a mask of fury. Justin felt a shock course down
his spine. He knew that face. It was Hyperion.

He was wearing the same armor that he had on
in his portrait and his expression was quite similar to the face in
the picture.

There were guards standing at the edge of
each step. None of them were looking at Hyperion, but Justin could
see that each one had a hand on a weapon. And each one wore a
titanium bracelet on his or her wrist. Hyperion did not. But he had
a spear strapped to his back.

“You recognize him, Mr.
McLeod?” Mr. Fitzgerald asked quietly.

“Yes sir, I do. But what
is going on here?”

“We are about to see the
beginning of the end of Atlantis. And of the Titans.”

“But why...?” Justin began
to ask but Mr. Fitzgerald held up a hand for silence and pointed up
the steps.

Justin gasped. Hyperion was big, so big he
towered over those around him. But walking down the stairs was the
largest being that Justin had ever seen. The only thing he could
compare this person to were the Sentinels. But they weren't
alive.

The Titan, for that is what he had to be,
Justin thought, was walking slowly down the steps, his eyes focused
on Hyperion. He had to be twelve feet tall and he was wearing
armor. He had a long black beard and a small sickle hung from his
belt. Justin watched him with awe.

“Cronus,” he whispered
aloud

“Yes, Justin. Cronus.” Mr.
Fitzgerald was staring up at the giant and Justin saw to his
surprise that the man seemed to have tears in his eyes.

Both of them watched as Cronus descended
until he stood two steps above Hyperion. The square was now silent.
No one even coughed. No children cried. The wind had ceased to
blow.

“So, you've deigned to see
me at last, oh noble brother,” Hyperion snarled.

Cronus merely looked at him for a long
moment. Justin saw no anger or malice in his face, just a deep
sadness. And where Hyperion's face showed an almost animal-like
cruelty and hatred, Cronus had a nobility about him that even his
sadness couldn't conceal.

“I have duties, my
brother,” Cronus finally said, his deep voice ringing over the
crowd. “You have always been welcome in court. Why did you wish to
meet here, in the open like this?”

“Why?” Hyperion laughed
maniacally. He sounded slightly mad. “Because I wanted witnesses. I
don't trust you, my oh so pure brother. I wanted the people to hear
your decision from your own lips. I want them to hear you pronounce
their doom.”

“Their doom?” Cronus
merely lifted an eyebrow. “There is no doom, brother. The humans
have no chance of taking Atlantis. Any attack on us would be
futile.”

“Futile? You are a fool,
Cronus! They will overwhelm us in sheer numbers. If we kill a
thousand, two thousand more will come against us. If we kill a
million, twice that number will strike back. We must eradicate
these vermin now, while they are preparing for war.” Hyperion
panted with rage as he glared at his brother. Cronus was now
frowning.

“We will not kill a
thousand, Hyperion. We will not kill any.” There was a sudden sound
from the crowd. Many of them were now muttering amongst
themselves.

“You hear that, brother?”
Hyperion waved at the crowd behind him. “They do not share your
weak concern for the lives of these pests.” He took a step toward
the stairs and Justin heard the ringing of metal as a dozen weapons
were drawn by the guards on the stairs. He stopped abruptly and
glanced left and right. His face turned pale but the look of fury
did not fade.

“You will destroy Atlantis
unless you act now!” Hyperion lowered his voice. “And if you do not
act, then someone else will.”

Now Cronus quickly walked down the last two
steps and stood over his brother. His eyes were no longer a placid
blue. They had somehow turned coal red and as he looked down at
Hyperion he seemed to grow even larger. “Are you threatening to
start a civil war, brother? If you are, speak plainly. And we can
end this, here and now.”

The crowd had fallen back as Cronus had
advanced. Even Hyperion shrank back.

“I did not say I would do
it, brother. But if you push people too far, they will eventually
defend themselves.” His voice sounded less threatening and more
whiny, Justin thought and he looked at Hyperion with
disgust.

“And I have said that the
people have no need to defend themselves. Not all humans hate us,
as you and the people know well. Many are our friends, many work
for us. We trade with many. These others are merely the jealous,
the weak, the rabble. We have nothing to fear from them.” Cronus
place his hands on his hips. His eyes had faded to blue once more
and he stared down at his brother. “You have had your audience,
Hyperion. I do not think we will need to speak to each other for a
while.” And with that, he turned and walked slowly up the stairs
again.

Justin watched the crowd disperse and
Hyperion slunk away, but not before he gave one last glare of
hatred at his brother's back. Then the scene became blurry, there
was a sound of rushing sand and Justin and Mr. Fitzgerald were
standing in the middle of the sand-covered dome once more.

Justin realized that Mr. Fitzgerald was
watching him. “He made a mistake, didn't he? Cronus, I mean.”

To Justin's surprise, the man shook his
head. “No Justin, he made two. He underestimated both the threat of
the humans and of his brother. Cronus was a being of peace. He
believed in the better nature of others, even against the judgment
of trusted councilors. What we just saw was the moment when things
turned against Cronus and the Titan race. It was the beginning of
the end.”

“But why did you show me
this, sir? Not that I minded,” he added hastily. “But I learned all
of this from Ghelena.”

“There were several
reasons that we came here, Mr. McLeod. The first was to show you
that even a being as powerful and good as Cronus has a weak spot.
And it can be exploited by others, if one does not acknowledge it
and find a way past it. Bear that lesson in mind at all times; one
day it may be useful. The second we will see in a moment. Let's
walk back to the wall again.”

The two moved back to the edge of the sand.
Mr. Fitzgerald looked at Justin. “I want to go back to something a
little more recent. An event that happened a few months ago, in
point of fact. I was not satisfied with the report I received about
it and I've decided to see what happened for myself.”

“But what's that got to do
with me, sir?” Justin asked in confusion.

“You'll see in a moment,
lad,” the man said and he raised his arms again. Justin watched
enthralled as the sand once again began to move and swirl, raising
walls, making rooms. He realized that this time they were inside a
building. In a hallway somewhere. As he watched the sand change its
consistency and color, he recoiled in shock as he recognized the
setting.

They were standing in the hallway outside of
his apartment. The sun was pouring through the large window at the
end of the corridor, reflecting off of the dust motes that drifted
gently through the light.

Justin turned and stared at Mr. Fitzgerald.
“What are we doing here?” he asked loudly. He staggered slightly as
the hallway shook. A bang echoed through the building. “This is the
day I was attacked! I don't want to be here!” He glared at Mr.
Fitzgerald who gazed back at him placidly.

“Calm yourself, Justin.
Remember, these events have already happened. This is simply a
recreation.”

“I don't care! Don't you
know what happened here? Do you really want to see Wilson...” But
he couldn't go on. He could not stand by and watch Wilson give his
life again. And yet he seemed rooted to one spot. The corridor
shook again, more violently and another loud bang could be
heard.

“I don't want to see him
harmed either, Justin. But before we leave, let's just see what
happened before the attackers entered your apartment, shall
we?”

Justin's anger was replaced by confusion.
“What? But what's that got to do with anything?”

“Perhaps nothing.” Mr
Fitzgerald turned his head and looked down the hallway toward the
stairs. Justin could hear many pairs of feet running up from the
lobby. “Ah, here they come. We'll soon find out.”

As they rounded the banister at the top of
the stairs, Justin stepped back in surprise. They weren't Titans.
These men were dressed in army fatigues and wearing helmets. But
none of them carried a gun. Instead, they were holding long batons
with a glittering piece of metal on one end.

“What's going on? Who are
they?” he asked frantically.

“Government forces,
Justin,” Mr. Fitzgerald replied. “Interesting.”

“But what...” Justin
stopped speaking as the group reached his door. There were six of
them. All large men. They huddled closely together for a moment and
Justin and Mr. Fitzgerald moved closer to watch.

“Remember, we have to take
the kid alive.” A man wearing two stripes on each shoulder spoke
up. Justin assumed that this was the leader. “Orders are that the
woman is not to be touched, no matter what. Understood?” There were
grunts of assent. “Also, whether we get the boy or not, we get the
old man. And if any of you injure him too badly, you will answer to
the Colonel. Now, get that door open.”

Justin watched numbly as two of the team
unpacked a long metal cylinder and smashed the door open. He heard
Wilson howling in rage and watched in satisfaction as two of the
attackers went down. But the others used their batons on him and
Justin felt sickened as he realized that they were electrified.
Wilson finally collapsed and the leader checked his pulse as the
others searched the apartment.

Justin edged past them and looked in on his
mother. She was sitting up on the couch and trembling. He knew that
it was mostly willpower that kept her upright and a surge of hatred
coursed through him. He wanted to batter and smash the men and he
even swung at one of them. But his fist just passed through the
sand, which reformed behind it.

“The kid's gone,” one of
the men announced to the leader, who just shrugged.

“We were told to expect
it. But at least we've got the old man.” He looked down the hall
toward the living room. “How's the woman?”

“Fine, chief. Didn't say a
word after that first scream. Guess she doesn't want to talk to
us,” he snickered. The leader grabbed the other by the front of his
jacket and slammed him into the wall. Justin watched with
satisfaction. “Did you touch her?” he hissed at the man.

“No! No sir!” the man
choked, his hands locked on his leader's wrist. “None of us went
near her!” Suddenly he was released and he staggered away several
feet, putting some space between himself and the leader.

“Good. Now, pick the old
man up. Gently! And let's get out of here. The cops will be
arriving shortly, I'm sure.”

Justin watched as they picked up Wilson and
then the sand was falling apart and the floor of the dome was
smooth once more.

“Sir. Mr. Fitzgerald.
They've got Wilson! He's alive!” Justin was both elated and
terrified. Wilson was alive! But they had him as a prisoner. What
must he be going through? He wasn't a young man. How much could he
take?

But Justin knew that Wilson was a pretty
tough guy. He had heard stories about his war years, his time as a
beat cop when he was young. He could hold out. Unless...Justin felt
cold suddenly. Unless they had killed him. No! Not possible. He
refused to even consider that. He finally looked at Mr.
Fitzgerald.

The man might have been reading his
thoughts, because he nodded as he caught Justin's eye. “I wondered
whether they had really killed him,” the man said. “It seemed to me
that they would not destroy such a potentially useful prize as
Wilson. It appears I was right.”