“What, Mother?” Achilles’ face in the starlight was undergoing disturbing transformations as his emotions ran from despair to fury to something beyond fury.
“Bring down the gods,” whispered Thetis. The words were barely audible above the crashing surf. Achilles stepped even closer, his head bent as if not believing. “Bring down the gods,” she whispered again. “Storm Olympos. Kill Athena. Depose Zeus.”
Achilles staggered back. “Can this be possible?”
“Not if you act alone,” said Thetis. White waves curled around her feet. “But if you bring your warring Argives and Achaeans with you . . .”
“Agamemnon and his brother rule the Achaeans and the Argives and their allies this night,” interrupted Achilles. He looked back at the fires burning along the miles of beach and then turned his head to look at the far more numerous Trojan watch fires burning just beyond the defensive trench. “And the Argives and the Achaeans are on the verge of rout this night, Mother. The black ships may burn by sunrise.”
“May burn,” said Thetis. “This day’s victories to the Trojans are simply another sign of Zeus’s whim. But the Argives and Achaeans will follow you to victory even against the gods, Achilles. Just this night, Agamemnon said to Odysseus and Nestor and the others gathered in his camp at midnight that he was the better man—wiser and stronger and more bold than Achilles. Show him otherwise, my son. Show all of them otherwise.”
Achilles turned his back on her. He was looking toward distant Ilium where torches burned bright on the high walls. “I cannot fight the gods and the Trojans at the same time.”
Thetis touched his shoulder until he turned. “You’re right, my child, Achilles, swift-runner. You must end this senseless war with Troy, begun over Menelaus’ bitch of a wife. Who cares where mortal Helen sleeps or if the Atridae—Menelaus and his arrogant brother Agamemnon—are cuckolded or not? End the war. Make peace with Hector. He too has reason to hate the gods this night.”
Achilles looked quizzically at Thetis but she did not explain. He looked back at the torches and the distant city. “Would that I could see Olympos tonight so that I could kill Athena, throw down Zeus, and reclaim Patroclus’ body for his rites.” His voice was soft but terrible in its mad resolve.
“I will send a man to show you the way,” said Thetis.
He wheeled on her again. “When?”
“Tomorrow, after you have spoken with Hector, made common bond with the fighting Trojans, and taken kingship of the Argives and Achaeans from posturing Agamemnon.”
Achilles blinked at the breathtaking audacity of this. “How shall I find Hector without him killing me or me killing him?”
“I will send you a man to show you the way for that as well,” said Thetis. She stepped back. The predawn surf crashed against the backs of her legs.
“Mother, stay! I . . .”
“I go to Father Zeus’s halls to find my fate now,” whispered his mother, voice all but lost in the sibilant surf. “I will argue your case a final time, my son, but I fear failure and banishment will be my lot. Be bold, Achilles! Be brave! Your fate has been set but not sealed. You still have the choice of death and glory or long life, but also life and glory . . . and such glory, Achilles! No mortal man ever dreamt of such glory! Avenge Patroclus.”
“Mother . . .”
“The gods can die, my child. The . . . gods . . . can . . . die .” Her form wavered, shifted, became a mist, and disappeared.
Achilles stood staring out to sea for long minutes, stood staring until the cold light of Dawn began creeping from the east, and then he turned, donned his clothing and his sandals and his armor and his greaves, hefted his great shield, slid his sword into its sheath on his sword belt, took up his spear, and began walking toward Agamemnon’s camp.
After this performance, I collapse. All through the dialogue, my morphing bracelet was beeping in my ear with its AI voice—“Ten minutes of power left before shutdown. Six minutes of power left before . . .” and so forth.
The morphing gear is almost out of charge and I have no idea how to recharge it. I have just under three minutes of morphing time left, but I’ll need that to visit Hector’s family.
You can’t kidnap a child, comes the ever smaller voice that is all that’s left of my conscience. I have to, comes the only response I have.
I have to.
I’m in this now. I’ve thought it through. Patroclus was the secret to Achilles. Scamandrius and Andromache—Hector’s son and wife—are the secret to turning Hector. The only way.
In for a penny, in for a pound.
Earlier, when I’d QT’d into existence on the sunny-afternoon hill of what I still hoped to be Indiana, the unconscious Patroclus in my arms, there had been no sign of Nightenhelser. I dropped Patroclus quickly into the grass—I’m not homophobic, but dragging a naked man makes me feel odd—and I’d called toward the river and forest for Keith Nightenhelser, but no response. Perhaps the ancient Native Americans had scalped him by now, or adopted him into their tribe. Or perhaps he was just across the river and into the woods, gathering nuts and berries.
Patroclus groaned and stirred.
What are the ethics of leaving a groggy, naked man as a stranger in a strange land like this? Would a bear kill him? Not likely. It was more likely that Patroclus would find and kill poor Nightenhelser, although the Greek was naked and unarmed and Keith was still decked out in impact armor, taser baton, and prop sword. Yes, I’d put my money on Patroclus. What are the ethics of leaving a pissed-off Patroclus in the same berry-gathering acre of land where I’d left a peace-loving academic?
I didn’t have time to worry about it. I’d checked the morphing bracelet’s power—found it waning—and QT’d back to the coast of Ilium. I’d learned a little about becoming a goddess from the Athena experience and Thetis wouldn’t require as much energy to morph into as had Zeus’s daughter. With a bit of luck, I thought, the morphing gear would work long enough to allow me my scene with Achilles and leave a bit left over for Hector’s family.
And it did. And I do have a bit left over. I can morph a final time.
Hector’s family . What have I become?
A man on the run, I think, as I pull the Hades Helmet over my head and walk along the sand. A desperate man.
Will the QT medallion run out of power soon as well? Does the taser hold another charge if I need it in Ilium ?
I’ll find out soon. Wouldn’t it be ironic if I succeeded in turning both Achilles and Hector to my cause but then didn’t have the quantum teleportation power to get them or me to Olympos?
I’ll worry about that later. I’ll worry about all this crap later.
Right now I have a 4 a.m. appointment with Hector’s wife and baby boy.