Pantheon (The Tamar Black Saga)

  The Tamar Black Saga – Book Eight

  Pantheon

  By Nicola Rhodes

  © copyright 2010 Nicola Rhodes

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

  In the same series

  Djinnx’d

  Reality Bites

  Tempus Fugitive

  The Day Before Tomorrow

  Faerie Tale

  Anything But Ordinary

  Rise of the Nephilim

  Pantheon

  ~ Chapter One ~

  They were running away; that was the thing. Not forever or anything, just for a little break. It was really a second … a honeymoon. (What with one thing and another – stolen Rheingold, crashing the mainframe, stopping Ragnoroc, half angels taking over the world, reigns of terror, that sort of thing – they had never got around to it after the actual wedding.)

  It had been Denny’s idea to go to Greece, it being a place he had never visited but had heard a lot about. It was a decision he would live to regret.

  Of course, modern Greece is nothing like the Greece that Tamar had known before becoming a Djinn. That was the only reason she agreed to go.

  The last thing she expected to see, as she lazed on the beach while Denny went off to see the Parthenon and other old ruins that Tamar was not interested in revisiting, was Poseidon.

  But there he was large as life – prehistoric life that is. He was the approximate size (and probably weight) of a Tyrannosaurus Rex and with a similarly ferocious expression.

  That made her sit up.

  * * *

  There was an enormous crowd at the Parthenon. Of course, it was a big tourist attraction, but this, Denny thought, was ridiculous.

  Not only was there a large crowd, but they were, he noticed as he watched them, mostly locals, not tourists. This made about as much sense as the growing and palpable excitement that was spreading throughout the crowd.

  ‘Okay’, he thought, ‘there’s definitely something funny about this.’

  He drifted onto the astral plane and wandered unheeded through the crowd. The throng of people was really so thick that there was no other practical way of getting to the action.

  As he reached the front of the crowd, as if a starting signal had been fired, every single person, as one, fell on their faces in prostration. Then there was an almighty flash and a loud bang and a huge and fearsome figure appeared as if from nowhere. Now Denny had seen far worse in his time but still his mouth fell open in shock. The reason being, that this particular enormous individual was unmistakably the ancient warrior of the Greek gods, Athena herself; and Athena was supposed to have been dead for a long, long time.

  ‘Oh shit!’ said Denny.

  Denn-eee!’ He heard the shriek in his head, it was Tamar.

  ‘Not now!’ he thought. Then he thought better of it and teleported to her, just in time to see what he had half expected to see.

  ‘Athena!’ he told her shortly.

  ‘Oh God!’ said Tamar, catching his meaning immediately. ‘Poseidon,’ she told him, pointing at the gigantic figure swirling the sea around him like a giant bowl of soup.

  ‘Yeah, I got that,’ he replied dryly. ‘What’s the matter with him? Seems like he’s in a bad mood.’

  ‘He’s … he was, always in a bad mood,’ said Tamar.

  ‘That’s the point, isn’t it?’ said Denny. ‘The “was” part. What the hell is he doing here now? And how could we not known about this?’

  ‘Why should we have?’ said Tamar, puzzled.

  ‘Because … well look around you. Does anyone look surprised to you? It’s as if … as if they never went away. And when Athena appeared, people were waiting for her. They fell on their faces before she even arrived.’

  ‘Yes, obviously, if they’re here now, then it’s because they never died off at all, but … Oh I see what you mean,’ she said. ‘If they never went away for everyone else, how is it that we know that they did?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘As far as we are concerned, the gods vanished thousands of years ago into a deleted file … Oh!’ she stopped in horror as a light dawned.

  ‘They never did, did they?’ said Denny, as he also saw the light, ‘because I crashed the damn mainframe.’

  ‘We crashed it,’ said Tamar automatically. ‘At least, you wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t given you the idea.’

  ‘So … what happened?’ said Denny. ‘The files never got deleted after mainframe restarted. Fair enough, I get that. But …’

  ‘Why now?’ said Tamar. ‘And why is it that we can remember it the other way, not the way it’s actually happening now?’

  ‘More or less, yeah?’ said Denny.

  ‘I have no idea,’ she said.

  ‘Could we be in a parallel universe?’ he said.

  ‘Ha!’ said Tamar. ‘That’d be handy, wouldn’t it? But somehow I don’t think it’s that simple.’

  ‘Can’t we do something about him?’ said Denny. ‘He’s making a right mess of the beach.’ He pointed at Poseidon. ‘And I can’t hear myself think with all that racket he’s making.’

  ‘What would you like me to do?’ said Tamar dryly.

  ‘Just … shut him up. I know you can do it. He’s only a god.’

  ‘You do it then.’

  ‘All right then,’ said Denny. ‘I will.’ And he directed a lightning bolt at Poseidon’s head, which knocked him cold and sent him crashing into the water with an accompanying tidal wave of diminutive proportions. But, small or not (and it was still higher than most buildings) Denny had an unreasoning fear of tidal waves, and he yelped and leapt backwards as this one washed over the beach.

  ‘I guess I didn’t think that one through,’ he said ruefully, as water dripped off him and left him standing in a puddle.

  ‘Yes, well, if you’ve quite finished,’ said Tamar. ‘Maybe we should …’

  ‘Tamar Black!’ A sharp voice cut across her words. ‘You’ve really done it this time. You’re in big, big trouble.’

  It was, of course, Clive.

  ‘You know, technically, it was my fault,’ said Denny. ‘I mean, I was the one who actually…’

  ‘We know all about it,’ snapped Clive. ‘This is where you are staying?’ he added, apropos of nothing, looking around the room in distaste.’

  ‘If you don’t like it, you can always bugger off,’ said Tamar. ‘We know what we have to do you know. No one invited you to stick your big nose in anyway.’

  ‘Ha! It never stopped you now did it?’ said Clive with perfect truth. ‘That’s how we ended up with this mess on our hands in the first place.’

  ‘No,’ said Tamar with dangerous calm. ‘We ended up with this mess, because your little friends in mainframe tried to trap us all in a deleted file.’

  ‘Because you are always interfering in things that don’t concern you,’ parried Clive.

  Tamar bristled dangerously, and Clive looked nervously at Denny for support.

  Denny, however, just shrugged. ‘Don’t look at me,’ he said. ‘I agree with her.’

  Clive held his hands up helplessly. ‘Look, I’m just the messenger this time,’ he said, ‘and I had to do a lot of begging to get them to send me along. I told them, I told them and told them that you would do something bad if they tried it, but they wouldn’t listen to me. I’m persona non grata up there at the moment. The price of being right when everyone else was wrong. No one likes a know-it-all, you know. You point out the flaws in the master scheme, and then you have to hope l
ike hell that you’re wrong because you just know the stupid bastards are going to do it anyway, and then they blame you for telling them it wasn’t going to work in the first place, as if you put a hex on the whole thing just to prove you were right all along. Anyway …’ He pulled a face. ‘That is now irrelevant as it goes. You did it, and now you are going to fix it. The bosses upstairs are howling for your blood you know. And you are going to need my help. You don’t know what you’re dealing with, believe me.’ He paused for breath. ‘Questions?’ he asked.

  Tamar and Denny looked at each other with bemused expressions.

  Eventually Denny said. ‘What?’

  ‘I’m glad you asked,’ said Clive apparently not noticing the form of the question. ‘The fact is … it’s like this you see… oh hell. It’s so hard to explain this stuff to – humans. Basically, what’s happened is this. You crashed the mainframe, and all the files went back to startup yes?’

  ‘We know this part,’ said Denny. ‘I was there. Remember?’

  ‘How could I forget,’ said Clive sourly. ‘Then you know that deleted files are, well it’s a bit of a misnomer really, the data in the files is deleted, but the files – no, that’s not it. Wait a minute. There are two kinds of deleted files in mainframe. The files where all the data has been deleted from them and the files themselves stand empty and the other kind, where the data that has been deleted from the history files is stored. Actually, that’s not exactly accurate either but it’ll have to do. Anyway, as you have probably reasoned out already, the mythology files for the Greek gods were … reactivated is the only appropriate term although it’s completely wrong – however, from the point of view of the earth, the twilight of the gods never happened. I mean, it did, but then, after you crashed the system, it didn’t. See?’

  ‘But why are we only seeing it now?’ asked Tamar. ‘Denny … We crashed it over sixteen years ago.’

  ‘One thing at a time,’ admonished Clive. ‘You need to understand this. Now.’ He paused. ‘Where was I? Oh yes … you changed history – all over the place as it happens, but this was a big one, because … well it’s made a mess that’s all. Originally, the old gods became obsolete because of new gods moving in and such like. Socrates had a big impact on belief when he introduced the Greeks to natural philosophy and openly declared that the gods didn’t exist – that sort of thing. And, as you know, when a god becomes obsolete, he dies. QED. But now, we have the old gods and the new gods all together, because the old history never got overwritten and turned into legend as it should have been. And, do you know, there isn’t a damn thing we can do about it. We’ve tried, believe me, but it’s too late. The only way now is to find a way to kill them off at the appropriate time some other way.’

  ‘What do you mean it’s too late?’ said Denny. ‘How can it be too late? Can’t you just …’

  ‘What’s done is done,’ said Clive. ‘The old legends said that the gods were destroyed in some unspecified manner. And then they became a legend anyway, so no one believed it really happened, which it didn’t anyhow, because they died off through a lack of belief really. The tale of their so called destruction was just a convenient explanation for the end of the story. But now the story has changed see? And it’s up to you to see that it changes back – but for real this time. You have to go back and destroy the gods in the past. After that, they should revert to legends again, and it will all be as if none of this ever happened.’

  ‘Okay,’ conceded Tamar. ‘I didn’t know that!’

  ‘Destroy them how?’ asked Denny not unreasonably. ‘I mean they are technically immortal, aren’t they?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Clive, ‘and that’s where it gets tricky see. That’s why the story of the destruction of the gods is so damned vague I reckon. Not to mention that in the stories, the gods were supposedly destroyed around 600 BC. But they weren’t you see, that was just back story written in afterwards. In reality, they lasted until the death of the last Tyrant of Athens which happened in 527BC, and even then it took a few years for them all to go. Well more than a few years really, some people were still believing in them up to 200 years later. Well, maybe it wasn’t actual belief as such, more like – you know when you follow a religion but really you aren’t sure, because there are other alternatives, like science and philosophy and even other religions and so on? Of course you don’t, what am I saying? But people do do that you know? Anyway, it was like that. And that’s more or less what happened after the last Tyrant died, what was that chap’s name? Pisistratus, that was it – not that it matters – because he was the last champion of the old gods and after his death, his sons encouraged a lot of new ideas that he would never have stood for. And, it is a fact, that the old gods were never actually seen again after around 590BC or thereabouts, which might account for the date given in the story of 600BC. Belief is fluid you see. There wasn’t just one day when everyone all at once decided not to believe any more.’ He shook his head. ‘Why couldn’t you have just left well enough alone?’ he said wearily.

  ‘We had no choice,’ said Tamar.

  ‘Not you,’ said Clive, surprisingly. ‘Them!’ He shook an angry fist at the heavens. ‘If they had left you alone in the first place, then none of this would be necessary.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Tamar. ‘I see what you mean.’

  ‘Anyway,’ resumed Clive, ‘to answer your earlier question. You are only seeing this now, because there is technically no time within the mainframe and mainframe is where the problem originated. I can’t put a better explanation on it than that. At least not one that you could understand, I’m afraid. But in any case, they’ve been here all along now, and it doesn’t make any difference to what you have to do.’

  ‘We shouldn’t be seeing it at all,’ said Denny.

  ‘I can’t argue with you there,’ said Clive.

  ‘No, I mean, why is it that we know … what you know? We aren’t inside the mainframe now. How come, when history changed, our memories didn’t change with it like everyone else’s?’

  ‘Because you know better,’ said Clive obscurely.

  ‘Clive!’ said Tamar warningly. ‘No bollocks now or we may decide not to do anything at all about this. It was you, wasn’t it? You gave us the memory.’

  ‘Did you?’ Denny turned to Clive, startled.

  ‘Not exactly,’ said Clive, which was as good as an admission that he had had something to do with it. ‘Let’s just say, I made sure that you didn’t forget what you already knew. Mainframe is inside your head,’ he added mysteriously. ‘Everybody’s head actually. But especially yours,’ he told Denny. ‘Once you’ve been inside, you’re never quite the same again you know. Harder to fool for one thing.’

  ‘Everybody’s head?’ said Denny incredulously. ‘That’s … actually I think I understand. In memories and stories and everything that people know or think or believe, it’s all a part of the mainframe too, isn’t it? I remember now.’

  ‘Yes, but you are unique,’ said Clive. ‘Once you have seen the many layers of reality within the mainframe, a few alternate realities inside your own head are no problem at all to sort out.’

  ‘Most people just see what’s in front of them,’ said Tamar. ‘And then they don’t believe whatever they can’t handle anyway.’

  ‘But you,’ Clive resumed, addressing Denny, ‘have literally been hit full in the face, so to speak, with the entire universe, as it really is – and even you,’ he turned to Tamar, ‘have spoken with the central control system. It gives you a different perspective. Sort of opens your eyes.’

  ‘Anyway,’ said Tamar briskly, ‘so what’s the plan?’

  ‘The plan, as you call it, is up to you really,’ said Clive. ‘You understand the situation now. So fix it. My job here is done.’

  ‘And that’s it?’ said Denny. ‘No well-meaning but ultimately misleading advice? No long winded pontificating about danger and free will and other specious crap? Just “go and kill all the gods and do it fast”?’

 
‘He did that bit actually,’ said Tamar. ‘The pontificating I mean.’

  ‘Oh, yeah, so he did,’ said Denny. ‘Well, okay then, I guess we can do without the advice. So get lost then. We’ll handle it from here.’

  ‘There is one more thing actually,’ said Clive.

  ‘Yes, I thought there might be,’ said Denny, sounding resigned.

  ‘A little help with the time-travelling,’ said Clive. ‘I really wouldn’t show your faces in mainframe at the moment if I were you, so … Well, there is another way to go back without using mainframe as a conduit, and frankly it’s a lot more efficient too, and more precise than just entering random files and hoping for the best as you did before. Now, before you ask,’ he hurried on, ‘we couldn’t tell you the last time, because we weren’t supposed to interfere because of free will …’

  ‘Aha!’ interrupted Denny. ‘There it is. I knew it.’

  ‘I’m not really supposed to be telling you now actually,’ said Clive, ignoring this. ‘But frankly I don’t give a gulong anymore. If you ask me, the stupid sods asked for this, and expecting you to just “fix” it without any help at all is pretty unfair. Of course, you can always decide not to do anything at all – free will…’ he looked sidelong at Denny as if daring him to say anything about it. ‘… being what it is,’ he continued. ‘But I’m trusting that you won’t do that, so if you want to hear it, my advice is all yours.’ He waited expectantly.

  ‘You know we’re going to do it,’ said Tamar. ‘You wouldn’t have bothered coming here if you didn’t think so. So let’s hear it. How do we travel through time without the mainframe?’

  ‘You don’t,’ said Clive irritatingly. ‘But you have to remember, you’re in the mainframe now, one file of it anyway.’

  ‘By God,’ said Denny suddenly. ‘That’s clever. I should have thought of that myself.’

  ‘What?’ said Tamar.

  ‘He’s talking about file jumping,’ said Denny. ‘We do it all the time in a manner of speaking, when we teleport. We use the astral plane to go from place to place. Time is just … a different direction – yes?’ He looked at Clive interrogatively.