LIII

TYDEA

2,058 Years Before the Final Exodus

 

"This wasn't us, right?" Tydea said.

Her earpiece responded, "Of course not." Crassus sighed. "I've talked to a few cell leaders. The people … everyone's scared, Tydea. They're bailing on us."

She laughed nervously. "Naturally. When the Chief Archon of Kobol says you're the bad guy who blew up a frakking god …"

"That's just it," Crassus said. "I talked to someone. He said," Crassus' voice became lower. Tydea pressed the device against her head more tightly so she could hear, "He said it was a monotheist group. These monotheists have been bombing the temples."

She was quiet. She waited and Crassus said nothing else. "I don't know what to say to that." Tydea looked across her living room toward the small dechopem screen. The image of Lord Apollo standing at the Olympic Gates talking to reporters was frozen, paused there when her earpiece beeped minutes before.

"What's the next move?"

Tydea sat on the arm of her sofa and stared at the image of Apollo. "I don't know." Something nagged at her. It was like someone was pulling a string attached to her stomach. Tug, tug, tug. It wasn't nausea. She swallowed hard and looked at the screen again. Apollo was an ally of Megara. That was for certain. "I think I need to go to Theonpolis."

"What can you do there?"

Tydea shrugged, even though Crassus couldn't see her. "I need to talk to the archons. I need to tell them … this wasn't us."

"Are you crazy?" Crassus said. "You're going to be pleading guilty to the stuff we did do!"

"I won't be pleading guilty to anything. I'm going to be assuring them that the Thirteenth Tribe had nothing to do with this bombing."

Crassus was quiet for a moment and then he asked, "That's if they'll even talk to you."

Tydea inhaled sharply and she looked back at her dechopem and Apollo. She felt the tugging again. "I have to go." She pulled the earpiece out and tossed it onto the table. She sat down on the sofa fully and didn't unpause the news. She sat there and stared at Apollo.

Five minutes later, she turned off the dechopem, stood, and grabbed a small case. After tossing in some clothes and other items, she reached under a bust of Lord Dionysus. The artwork was hollow and she pulled out a wad of bills. A little over two thousand stater. She had been saving the money for years. She didn't know why, but she felt she needed to bring it along.

Tydea left her home in Cyme and walked toward the bus station. She bought her ticket to Theonpolis and boarded almost immediately. It was the evening; one full day after the bombing of Apollo's temple. Megara was under a travel restriction, but not Cyme.

On the road to Theonpolis, she laid her head back against the seat and stared out of the window at the passing landscape. It would be well after midnight when she arrived. She could find a hotel or just go to Dionysus' temple. As a priestess, she would be allowed to sleep there.

Trees whizzed by the window. She watched them go for several minutes and then she closed her eyes. The motion was making her sick. Or was it the tugging again? She turned her head to look forward and she thought about Apollo, paused on her screen.

Tydea closed her eyes and saw the image, as clear as day. Freshly rejuvenated Apollo, standing at the Olympic Gates, talking to reporters. Moments before in that report, Apollo carried the bomber up a hill and they exploded. Then, there he was: young, handsome, perfectly coifed. Young Apollo.

She opened her eyes.

Apollo, before the bomb, wasn't exactly old, but he was older. Rejuvenated, he looked like he was in his twenties. She shook her head. The idea was ridiculous. But it nagged at her. It tugged at her stomach again.

Could the Lords of Kobol be artificial beings?

Ludicrous. Tydea told herself that. But then she saw young Apollo again, in her mind. She thought about the footage of him at the temple's podium the day before. Older. But these were gods. These were …

If they were created people, like the Thirteenth Tribe, who created them? Where did they come from and when did they get here?

She shook her head and tried to relax. She turned in her chair toward the window again, trying to go to sleep. She couldn't.

The bus arrived in Theonpolis nearly at dawn. Instead of walking several blocks toward Dionysus' temple, Tydea sat in the bus depot and thought.

Years ago, she met Dionysus at a temple ceremony. She was amazed at how normal he appeared, despite his height. He had gray hairs on his head and in his beard. But his Chara affected her. Every gods' Charas affected people. They had powers the people couldn't dream of. They could summon objects out of thin air, make large objects move, and much more. This wasn't possible. They were gods.

When the sun rose, Tydea left the depot and looked across the city. Temples ringed the Opera House a kilometer away but she could see it. The mountains north of the city were clearly visible, too. And so was Olympus. It may have been her lack of sleep, but she decided to go.

Tydea hailed a taxi and told him to go to the Olympic Gates. He complied and she slipped him a coin. Several minutes later, she emerged. She stood in the large cul-de-sac for several moments, simply looking into the mountains above. Olympus was covered in marble and ivy. Shrouded in mist. She glanced to her right and saw the newly-renovated Temple of Preparation. Olympic Park was on her left. Two Cylon guards were directly ahead.

"Halt," one said. "State your purpose."

She quietly cleared her throat and said, "I am a priestess in Lord Dionysus' temple. I have dire news regarding the bombings that have happened lately. I can only speak to the gods about this."

The Cylons were still, except for their eyes. A moment later, a different voice came from one of the Cylons. "This is Apollo. Identify yourself."

She inhaled sharply and said, "I am Priestess Iole Tydea Cymii."

There was another pause. "Can you … sum up the information you have?"

"I'm afraid I cannot. I fear for my safety." She closed her eyes tightly. She just lied directly to a god.

"Very well."

The Cylons stepped aside and the gates swung open. Her mouth fell and she looked at the empty skycar sitting on the platform just beyond the entrance. It took a moment, but she finally forced her legs to move forward. She stepped inside and pulled the door closed. The skycar lurched and began to ascend the cables toward Mount Olympus.

Tydea paced and paced. She looked out of the windows at the approaching mountainside and paced again. What was she going to say? Could she get away with it? She shook her head, realizing that if a god struck her down, she would be transferred to a waiting body in Megara. She took deep breaths and clung to that thought as some kind of solace.

The skycar clicked into its berth at the top of the cables. The marble and metal surrounded the forward half of the cab. The doors slid open and Tydea slowly stepped out and into the entryway. The walls were metallic. Marble statuary and columns lined the vast room and into the corridors beyond. Light seemed to pour from every possible crack and angle. Fine fabrics were swathed between the columns and exotic plants filled in the remainder of the spaces.

She lingered for a moment, looking from one thing to another. Finally, a young man emerged from a corridor. "Priestess?" he asked. "Come with me."

Tydea moved toward him and saw that this wide-eyed person was an acolyte. An Olympic acolyte. His vacant expression showed that he had been conditioned to withstand the shifting Charas of multiple Lords. She followed him down the corridor, passing by columns and ivy. The occasional plant and work of art. Finally, he stopped in front of a door and bowed, motioning for her to enter.

She turned and looked inside. The huge table with a dozen or so chairs. Opulent surroundings. She took a sharp breath and walked inside. Tydea knew that this was the Olympic Court. This is where the gods sat and deliberated Kobol's problems. Sitting at the far end of the room, at the head of the table, was Zeus himself.

Shocked, Tydea fell to her knees and bowed. "Great Zeus," she said. Her voice trembled and she closed her eyes tightly. She began to waver. She didn't think she could continue.

"Rise, priestess," Apollo said.

She stood and looked. Zeus, Apollo, Athena, and Ares were there. She took a deep breath and smiled. "Thank you for seeing me, Lords. I … did not expect this kind of audience."

"The terrorist attacks are of great concern to us," Zeus said. "Please, whatever help you can provide will be appreciated."

Tydea bowed slightly and licked her lips. She wavered again. Standing before four gods and preparing to … do what? Accuse them? Or simply lie to them? She looked across their faces. Ares and Zeus were stern but not angry. Apollo and Athena seemed welcoming. Zeus appeared tired. As though he had just awakened. Then she looked at Apollo again and saw how young he looked. She steeled herself.

"My Lords," she began, "I am here on behalf of freedom. I am a member of the Thirteenth Tribe, as you can guess from my appearance. I am also the leader of a Megaran independence group."

Ares began to scowl and he slowly pushed himself back from the table. Apollo and Zeus shared a concerned look and Athena appeared confused. Ares spoke through clenched teeth. "I suggest you choose your words carefully."

Tydea lifted her head and smiled. She didn't really want to smile, but she managed it. She needed the air of confidence. Slowly she lifted her arms and said, "I am not armed."

"We know," Zeus said. He seemed angry now. "What do you want?"

She kept her back rigid and inhaled again. Her chest puffed out and her chin lifted further. It was time to gamble.

"I come to request complete independence and freedom for members of the Thirteenth Tribe." The gods sat stone-faced. "Over the years, many of my people have realized that we're no better than Cylons. We work and perform in society but without being heard by our leaders. We want representation in the Quorum."

Apollo's eyebrows lifted. "Why should we interfere in an administrative matter? Within a single nation?"

She looked at Apollo and said, snidely, "Odd. Why wouldn't you? You've been assisting Aurora and the Megarans for some time."

Zeus looked at Apollo, confused. "In what way?"

"Immaterial," Apollo said.

"You've murdered people," Ares said, "and destroyed temples."

Before Tydea could correct him, Athena spoke up. "Why should we help you?"

"I will tell you why." She looked at their faces once more, stopping at Apollo's. Young Apollo. "I will reveal to the world that you are artificial beings, just like me."

Athena's eyes widened and Zeus stood from his chair, saying, "This is absurd!"

"Not really. The people call it 'rejuvenation' but we Megarans call it 'transfer.' You don't seem to age as quickly as we do. It takes several decades before you need a new body. For the normal humans, that's not a problem. They don't live long enough to watch you age to completion. But us in the Thirteenth Tribe," she paused and looked at their expressions again, "we can see it."

All four of the Lords were standing now. Ares and Zeus were visibly angry, but they were several meters away. Their Charas managed to make Tydea's stomach ache. Zeus looked at Ares and then at Apollo. "What you are suggesting is blasphemy."

Tydea still tried to smile, though their Charas were becoming more revolting. "Or blackmail."

Zeus inhaled sharply. He seemed conflicted. He tried to move in one direction but he stopped. He began to move another way and Ares grabbed his arm. Apollo saw this and looked at Tydea, "You should leave. Now."

"As you wish." She bowed and walked into the corridor. She exhaled and began to trot ahead of the acolyte toward the entry room. She got there quickly, grabbed her case and reentered the skycar.

She closed the door and wondered if she would be allowed to leave. A moment later, the cab began to move back down the cables. She started breathing again and watched her descent carefully. It stretched on and on. At any moment, the cab could stop and pull her back toward Olympus. But it didn't.

She left the cab and ran through the now open gates, past the waiting Cylons. She had to walk a full block to find a taxi. Inside, she told the driver, "Take me to Dionysus' temple." He began to drive.

How had she gotten this far? She looked out the window and saw several office buildings pass by. A series of healer offices sat on the other side of her door as the taxi was stopped at a signal. At the intersection ahead, she saw a police car. It was stopped on the side of the road. The lights weren't on but her stomach roiled in fear; not unlike it had just minutes before when she was in the presence of angry Charas. She leapt from the cab while tossing a coin into the front seat.

Tydea ran between the office buildings and emerged on the far side of a complex. There was a directory to her right and she glanced at it quickly. She saw one title in particular that gave her an idea.

Seeing other people around her, she walked calmly into the lobby of the office building and entered the elevator. When the doors opened, she walked into his office. No one was at the front desk. She moved around to a side door and looked inside. There, she saw a man with a sandwich in his mouth as he shuffled papers.

"Surgeon Glaukos?" she asked.

Startled, he turned and pulled the sandwich from his mouth. "Oh, you scared me. Yes?"

She walked inside, dragging her case with her. "You provide reconstructive surgery, correct?"

"I do."

"Good." She lifted the case into a chair and moved closer to him. "I want you to change my face."

Glaukos seemed confused and he said, "I don't understand. Have you been in an accident?"

"No," Tydea said. "I simply don't want to look like this any longer."