Deep Breath, Start Over

Mommy's hair is long.

She brushes it every day.

It's long and golden and reaches by her feet when she braids it.

When Daddy comes to visit, he laughs and grabs it to keep her still.

My sister and I have to go to the other room when he comes.

But we still hear.

Mommy tells us we should cover our ears so we can't hear, but we don't.

I hate Daddy. I won't be like him when I grow up. I won't.

Sometimes after he leaves Mommy can't get up for a while, and the sheets have spots of red like the stones in his hat.

Yesterday, we played the climbing game after Daddy locked us up again and left.

The climbing game is secret, so we can't tell Daddy.

We don't like it sometimes because it's hard, but we want to make Mommy happy.

When we went to bed that night her eyes were still too puffy to read our favourite book, so Mommy told us about where she grew up, in a tall house like ours. She couldn't go outside either.

My sister thinks Mommy won't cut her hair because it would make Daddy mad.

But I think there is something else.

Last night, like every night since I can remember, she leaned out the window with her hair hanging down. Then she came over and kissed my sister and me, and whispered 'Soon.'

Talia smiled and returned the wave of the handsome young man waiting for her at the far table. She wove her way through the maze of diners, secretly pleased that heads still turned as she passed. Kenichi O'Brien rose as she approached and wrapped her in a tight embrace. Talia felt a little disoriented, trying to reconcile the tall man before her with the little boy she'd practically raised alongside her half-brother Tommy. She smiled wider, remembering her twenty-year old self trying to manage two motherless nine-year old boys. Wild Kenichi and quiet Tommy had been an unlikely pair of friends, but they'd brought out the best in each other. They'd grown up to be fine men, making every grey hair she'd earned worth it.

Then two years ago, Tommy had fallen ill. Four months later, he was gone. Ken made sure to keep in contact with her, but the hurt at the death of the brother she'd raised never went away. She was alone in the world now. Talia gave herself a mental shake. She still had Ken in her life. She'd noticed he's been more withdrawn of late, and she was worried. He kept saying it was work related, but she knew there was something more. Ken had some explaining to do, and Talia was not going to let him wriggle out of telling her again.

"How've you been Tal?"

"Great! Sent off the finished illustrations for the game manual yesterday, and have another job lined up." She paused as a waiter came to take their orders.

"I'll need you to model for me if you have the time." She continued.

"I'll make the time for you Tal." He grinned. "Can't be working all the time."

"Suuure you're working all the time. So who's the latest conquest?" she teased gently.

The waiter returned with their orders, and he gave his attention to the meal for a while, Kenichi talking about everything and nothing in particular. Bingo. That was a sore point. Talia waited patiently and repeated her question.

"Actually, I haven't been with anyone for the past year." He shrugged. "I really don't have the patience for the bar scene any more. Plus my business is growing, so it's taking a lot of my time."

Now she knew she was right to worry. The Ken she remembered always made time to party. Maybe Tommy's death had affected him more than he let on.

"Kenichi, I know you better than anyone else. There's something else."

He avoided her eyes. "It's not something I should bother you with."

"Kenichi!"

Keeping her face as severe as she could, Talia pointed to his seat and chanted,

"You're in the Confession Chair
No lies allowed
Being silent's not fair!


Ken smiled in spite of himself. "That hasn't worked since I was thirteen."

"Enough stalling Ken. Give. What's bothering you?" She reached out and covered his hand with hers. "Please?"

"Okay. I'll talk about it this once, but after, you have to answer a question for me."

"Deal."

He stared into his drink, not meeting her eyes, but he shifted to twine his fingers with hers. "This past year. Something happened. I discovered..." Various disasters flashed through Vanessa's mind as she watched him struggle to find the words. "Please don't let him be sick like Tommy was." she prayed silently.

"I discovered I'd fallen in love."

She blinked. "That's it?" She tried to keep her face serious, but failed. "Finally! What's she - or he - like?"

"She's intelligent, talented and an all round beautiful person inside at out." He looked at her intently. "I feel like I've known her my entire life."

Talia smiled at him, happy he'd finally found someone. She was happy damn it. She ignored the pang at the thought of sharing one of her few friends with someone, but maybe she'd still be able to play a part in his life.

"Great! When do I get to meet her."

"I haven't asked her out yet."

"Why not?"

"I don't think she'd say yes." He gave her that wry grin that drove her crazy while he was growing up.

Talia frowned, pissed on his behalf. "Is she crazy?" She pulled away from him. "You're a kind, wonderful man. You're intelligent, have a successful business and are damn sexy to boot!"

"I am all that." He conceded without a trace of modesty, "but I don't meet her major dating requirement. I mentioned it - feeling her out once, and she shot me down."

"She won't even give you a chance?"

"I don't know. Will you?"

"Will I what?"

Warm brown eyes held her. "Stop holding my age against me."

Talia realized her mouth was open. Kenichi gently pushed her chin upward.

"Your turn on the chair. Do you ever think of me as something more than a friend?"

Talia felt her face heat and struggled to think.

The easiest part of the whole fiasco was slaying the dragon.

I stood watching the dragon burn from my mage fire, gloating. It had been a simple job. Rescue Princess Lystria from the dragon, and the king would reward us with land and gold beyond our wildest dreams. Plus, we got to raid the dragon's horde as a nice bonus.

This time, nothing could go wrong. Mat and Trevor, The Brains and The Brawn, The Mage and The Muscle would finally be able to retire.

I forgot my brother could snatch defeat from the jaws of certain victory.

"Um, Mat...I...um...a little help please?"

I turned around with great effort. Every muscle in my body ached from the fight.

"Dammit Trevor, what is it noooooooow OH MY GODS AND GODDESSES WHAT DID YOU DO THIS TIME!" My blood-covered twin was kneeling on the ground desperately trying to jam the princess' head back onto her neck.
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"Oh hello, you're Luke's friend...Rachel?

"Racquel, that's right, I can never remember, silly me. My son knows so many girls I can't keep them straight. What can I do for you?

Oh Luke's still recovering from the dengue fever. He almost died from the bleeding you know.

Oh, you're the one who called us when he was close to death?

That was very good of you. At least you know family's important, no matter the little differences we may have from time to time.

No, no, we don't need help, I'm his mother. I can cope very well, and his father always supports me.

Where is he? He's resting comfortably in his old room here. We could hardly send him back to his apartment in his condition.

No, no You can't see him. He's ill. You know that.

Yes I know it's been three weeks since you or any of his friends have spoken to him, but really, he's still pretty weak so we're restricting his visitors to immediate family only. None of that rowdy crowd he's been running with. Very disreputable.

Oh, of course I didn't mean you dear. Though you're a lot different from the girlfriends he usually has, I'm sure you're nice as well. Very exotic-looking.

Fiancée? He was serious about that?

Well, it's not like he made an official engagement announcement before he got ill, so I really can't take your word for it dear. He's made jokes like that before, but we managed to put him straight.

Living together? Come now, my son would not be living in sin.

Why are you getting upset?

Try to see my point of view dear. My son is in no position to support your claims, and I'm not going to jeopardize his recovery by risking him getting upset if you're not who you say you are.

If you really love him, you'll understand why I'm being cautious.

Yes he'll be fine. No you can't see him. We don't want a relapse now, do we?

Oh dear. Have a tissue. Really, there's no need to make a scene.

Cell phone? He's just too weak to be making any calls yet. Plus reception is terrible all the way out here. I'll let him contact you when he's strong enough.

Really. Begging is very unbecoming in a young lady, but I suppose you can't help how you were raised.

Keep your voice down! I really don't want to call the police. Really, you're being so selfish! Luke needs peace and quiet...if you're arrested for trespassing, what do you think that'll do for his recovery?

I knew you'd see reason. My boy wouldn't date a stupid girl, no matter how she looks.

Sorry you wasted your time coming all the way down here. It's a five hour drive back to your part of the country isn't it? If you leave now, you should be able to get there before dark. It may not be a good idea to come here again people around here can be a little...hostile to outsiders. You know how villages can be.

I'll let him know you stopped by.

Goodbye Rachel.

There are only three rules when dealing with the machines.

Rule number 1: Always treat your machine with respect. Give it the same attention you would your child, and it will do whatever you want without breaking down or unnecessary delays.

Rule Number 2: Never leave your machine unattended while it's on. The machine needs direction.

Rule Number 3: Never, ever leave blood on your machine. Wipe it up immediately, even if it means ignoring the operator bleeding on the floor while you do this. Any machine that develops a taste for flesh and blood will mutate, become Aware and need to be hunted down and destroyed.

This should actually be rule number one, because the amount of people who don't follow it cause more grief and heartache than any number of serial killers combined. It's not the ones who do it in ignorance I have a problem with. It's those who deliberately ignore the Machine Rules because they think it's more efficient that make my blood boil.

Our current client, Mr. Wentley, had put profit before people once too often, and refused to call us in when he first noticed the problem, going for a cheaper competitor. Of course, he came sobbing back to us when things went to hell the day his son and his children came to visit grandpa at work. Now his heirs and part of his workforce were trapped somewhere in his textile factory being stalked by machines. If innocent lives weren't at risk, I'd have taken great satisfaction in knowing it'd be years before his company recovered.

Rusty and I had gone through three rooms, making our way towards the centre of the textile factory. The smaller looms hadn't been too difficult to destroy. Thankfully, they hadn't reasoned out how to move as yet, so the workers were able to evacuate without incident.

The fourth room, the one we were currently crossing, showed the aftermath of an explosion. Wires hung exposed from the ceiling, swaying in a macabre dance. The glass from most of the light-bulbs lay scattered on the ground like jagged snow. I gritted my teeth against the crunch of it under our boots, trying to scan the room for threats by the meagre light that remained.

I tapped my headset. "Ian, you getting this?"

His deep voice rumbled in my ear. "Not as clear as I like Chief. How's you weapons?"

I shifted the heavy gun to look at the gauge. "Three-quarters acid left, Rusty's flame-thrower's 'bout the same, plus the handguns and explosives we haven't touched."

"And you arm?"

I flexed my left arm experimentally. I still wasn't used to the lighter prosthetic. "Feels a bit off, weight-wise, but nothing too bad. Miss my old one though.

"Hold on Ian. There's something."

Rusty had stopped slightly ahead of me, her beautiful face sombre in the dim light. She was looking down at the charred remains of a large machine wrapped around the body of a worker. It was easy for us to read what happened. This machine had figured out how rearrange its parts to grant optimal mobility and had grabbed him to incorporate into its new design. The man had immolated himself, sacrificing himself to make sure the other workers escaped. A brave man lost because of an asshole's greed.

His name tag was surprisingly undamaged by the fire, and Rusty leaned down to read it.

"Johns. His name was Johns." Rusty's voice was low, and from the set of her shoulders, I knew she was trying to keep it together. "We should have charged that fucker triple, Blue."

Maybe I shouldn't have done it, but I couldn't resist sneaking up and passing the end of one of the hanging cords across her neck.

Rusty jumped and stifled a shriek. I ducked under the wild swing of her weapon and chuckled.

"Dammit Blue! Sometimes you really are a c---."

"Rusty!" Ian's voice was sharp over the link. "Language please. We're recording." Even in the dim light, I could see the glint of mischief replace the annoyance in Rusty's eyes.

My face ached from smirking. "Yep. You can slam me all you want, and I just keep coming."

Rusty rolled her eyes.

"Fuck you Blue."

"Been there, did you, and we both decided to stay just friends after, right?"

"Is that what we are? And here I thought you hung around hoping to get lucky again."

"Come on, you never went back to men after I showed you how good a woman could be."

"While you settled for wanking until your arm fell off because you couldn't find someone to match me."

I leered at her. "Yeah, now I've got a sex toy for an arm, so I came out good." I paused. "Hey, I think there's a pun in there!"

"Don't you mean sexual innuendo you pervert?"

"No, no, give me a minute, let me try that again..."

Rusty and I exchanged grins in the dim light as Ian's long suffering sigh echoed over our headsets. I could picture him at the Mission Centre, face buried in his hands like he always did when we got going.

"Rusty, Blue, thank you for the lovely, lovely mental images, and one day - maybe - you'll actually say something funny, but we need to pay attention now. From the data Wentley gave us, the last and biggest of the machines should be in the next room."

"Any sign of the son and children?" asked Rusty.

"Can't tell. Room was full of meat when the machine became Aware, so there was a lot of raw material for it to use. Thankfully, all access points to outside are too big for it to fit through, so unless it manages to break through a wall, it's trapped.

"They's a few offices where they could hide out, but I can't get a clean reading from those either. Ladies..." we waited for his usual admonition, mouthing it in unison.

"Be careful right? I don't want to have to find new employers."

"We'll be careful the day you stop thinking of us as ladies." We said to complete the ritual.

I thought of something.

"Hey, Ian?"

"Yes, Blue?"

"Make a note to set up something for Johns' family once this is over."

In my mind, I saw his smile.

"Will do Chief."

We fell silent after that and continued to make our way across the floor. The door to the target room gaped wide, like a hungry mouth. It was deathly quiet, and I hoped we could find someone still alive in there. The slaughterhouse smell violating our nostrils suggested otherwise.

"Blue?" Rusty kept her voice low.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for that back there." Her smile was weak, but it was all I needed to know she'd regained her focus.

I thumped her gently on the shoulder with my normal hand, and signalled I'd take point.

She'll wake up, won't she?

Don't you see?

I was desperate to protect her. That's what good mothers do.

A girl should be pure. Not making eyes at boys when she's not even fourteen yet.

I couldn't let her continue down that path. I didn't want her to end up like me, a moment's pleasure and a lifetime of regret. No true loving mother would let that happen to their daughter.

I tried talking to her.

Grounding her.

Beating her.

Chaining her up in the basement.

Nothing worked. She kept trying to get out.

I was scared she would get in trouble.

That's when I remembered. A way she could be out there without me worrying. They do it to girls in other countries all the time, don't they?

I knew she wouldn't understand, children never understand when you do things for their own good.

I'm a good mother! I didn't do it while she was awake and screaming like the girls in that documentary.

I put her to sleep so she wouldn't feel the pain. I tried to be careful with how I cut it out. I used a sharp scalpel, not some dull knife or razor.

Of course still I cried. What mother likes hurting her child? Seeing them bleed?

But they do it to boys don't they? And they heal up okay.

I thought...if this made sex painful...if it couldn't be pleasurable for her...she'd be safe out there. She could go to school, do whatever she wanted without that distraction.

A beautiful future in return for a little pain.

Only a good mother would do that for their child. A good mother makes the hard choices.

I did nothing wrong, except wait too long to get treatment when the infection set in.

She'll wake up.

She'll wake up soon, won't she Officer?

When she does, she'll tell you.

Only a mother who really loves her child would do what I did.

Kantor looked round at the scared little faces crammed in his corner of the Great Hall. Outside, the wind snarled its fury and the sea roared in response. The other adults were busy, making sure their refuge was safe against the storm, but with a missing arm and leg, he couldn’t do much more than ensure that the little ones didn’t get underfoot.

A loud crash of thunder caused his littlest charge to whimper, and he beckoned to her to come closer, embracing her with his arm.

“Don’t be afraid Xylia, the gods just be quarrelling again.”

She shrank into his embrace as the wind gave a loud shriek outside.

“Why are they fighting?” she whispered, dark eyes wide.

“They’re arguing over who’s to blame for breaking the body of the goddess Tai, and separating the land into different continents and islands.”

The child’s brow furrowed in confusion, and Kantor feigned surprise.

“Didn’t your momma tell you the story?” The child’s braids shook her negative response, and the other children crept closer to hear.

“Well now…

“Long ago when this world was new, Celos, the Spirit of the Universe created two gods to watch over it; Tai, gentle goddess of the land, and restless Kor, who ruled the skies.

“For a while things were good. Then Kor came to Tai and said ‘We need help to make this world what it should be. Let us ask The Celos for helpers for the work.’

“Tai thought about this for a while before she agreed. ‘We will need to show what we wish to make of the world before The Celos considers our request.’ Kor heeded her counsel, and they spent centuries crafting and arguing about their plans before presenting them to The Celos. It was pleased with their passion for the work, and helped them call forth the wind-goddesses; tempermental Sarsess and flighty Mir to aid Kor in the skies; and Alar the Powerful to aid Tai and watch over the seas.

“The five created all manner of fish, fowl, flora and fauna from Tai’s substance and placed them in and around the vast land-mass that was the world, waiting to be awakened in their own time. The gods then rested before starting the final stage of the work.

“During their rest, Kor fathered the fire-haired Ruha with Tai. With Sarsess, he fathered the sun-god Rihos, and the sisters, Yerla the Slender and Talis the Graceful. Sarsess also gave birth to Typhus the Storm-bringer, son of Alar.

“Mir also gave Alar a son, but died in the birth. Grieved at the loss of their companion, the remaining four named the child Mir-Amat, Heart of Mir, and spoiled him greatly much to the annoyance of his cousins and siblings.”

“How could they have so many babies at the same time?” Han, the practical farmer’s boy, wanted to know.

“It wasn’t all at once!” Kantor smiled. “The priests agree that the rest probably lasted for centuries as we measure time.”

“When were we made?” Xylia wanted to know.

“Well now…” Kantor shifted the stump of his leg and gathered the threads of the tale.

“The Elder gods were now ready to wake the world with the help of their children, but Mir-Amat refused. ‘Nothing of this world reminds me of my mother.’ Said the lazy godling, making excuse. ‘Why should I help wake a world that won’t know her?’
“The pleas of the others did nothing to move him, and finally in frustration, Kor ordered each god to make creatures in their own image, to honor Mir. Thus, they began work on the greatest of their creations, the sentient beings that populate the world, using air, fire or water as most suited their nature.

Only Tai though she had loved Mir-Amat as her own, and Alar, grieved at his son’s behavior abstained, as this was not part of the plans they had discussed with The Celos. They broke with the others and found comfort with each other.

“Indeed, The Celos was angry when It saw what Kor and the others had done, and took away the power to wake any creature of the world, planned or unplanned from the gods. Then Tai felt a stirring in her womb, and not wanting her children to be born into a dead world, went with Alar to beg The Celos to relent, showing It the beauty of the different creatures designed by their companions and children. They finally returned to the others after a few hundred years, accompanied by a young maiden and man of uncommon beauty.

“The Celos, had agreed in the face of their persistence, on the condition that they created races in their image to balance the disobedience of the others. It also gifted their children with the wisdom and power to waken and return the creations of the other gods back to the stuff that formed them. This was the power of…”

“I know!” interrupted Galina, Han’s sister bouncing up and down with excitement. “Life and Death!”

Kantor smiled. “Yea, the last born of the gods, Nari Life-Bringer and her brother Narsen Death-Lord, were the most powerful of them all.

“Tired from their journey, Alar and Tai returned to their realms to slumber, leaving their son and daughter to breathe life into the creatures of the world and determine the span of years each of the races should enjoy.

Mir-Amat was annoyed that mere children (in his eyes) were given control over the life of their peoples, and tried to persuade his cousins, Yerla and Talis to seduce Narsen into giving their creations immortality. Yerla and Talis laughed at the thought of crossing the Celos again, and fled from Mir-Amat’s badgering, taking refuge in their father, becoming the twin moons we see in the sky.

Mir-Amat, then approached Ruha. ‘You’re not as pretty as my sisters, but…’

Ruha became so angry and disgusted that she spat fire, and drove him from her dwelling place.

Mir-Amat then enlisted Kor’s harangue Nari, assuming so beautiful a maiden would be as gentle as her mother.”

Kantor smiled and tugged on one of Xylia’s plaits. The storm outside had also quieted, as if also straining to hear the tale.

“They underestimated her. Life can be hard and ruthless. ‘Tis Death that’s full of mercy. She agreed after much persuasion that their people, the elves, could live for at least two thousand years. What they discovered later is that she also meant the elves would not bear children easily, and the last third of their life would be full of the pain of growing old.”

Mir-Amat encouraged Kor to punish Nari for her deceit, but she fled into the embrace of her mother, deep within the earth. Mir-Amat called out to Tai, asking the help of the once most fond of him, but she refused to take sides, and returned to her slumber.

Mir-Amat and Kor opened the wrath of the heavens on poor Tai, battering her mercilessly to force her to give up Nari. Once again, Tai woke and refused, this time making the ground tremble as her anger, so slow to build grew. Great cracks appeared in the ground, and mountains rose to stab the sky in response to her rage.

Kor’s temper, egged on by Mir-Amat’s hurt at Tai’s rejection soon grew too great for Tai to bear. As she opened the ground to return to her slumber, Mir-Amat hurled a lightning bolt straight at her unprotected back.

“She shrieked and fell into the earth.”

Kantor’s face was strangely sad.

Outside, the storm seemed to have died out completely, and the adults had left their chores to join the children around him, quiet.

“The ground broke in two. Alar woke too late from his slumber, and rushed with his waters to her aid. Ruha, also rode her molten flames to see to her mother.

“The molten rock and seawater caused the land to explode when they met, causing the cracks to spread further, finally breaking the land mass into pieces. Horrified, Alar and Ruha fought to contain the damage as Tai thrashed in pain, pushing up new land and submerging other large swaths of forest in with each shudder.

When it was over, what was once one, was now hundreds of islands and continents. Narsen fed well that day. Tai fell into a coma never to awaken, and her daughters spirited her away from the eyes of all gods to heal.

“From that day, Kor and Alar have blamed each other for what happened, and Sarsess and her daughters have the difficult job of placating them. Their quarrelling is what causes the fierce hurricanes as the time of Tai’s wounding approaches each year.

"Ruha, despite the best efforts of her half brother and sister also blames herself. Even to this day she when she remembers the incident, the volcanoes of Valin where she now lives erupt with her rage, sending her people scampering for cover.

Xylia tugged on the empty sleeve of Kantor’s shirt.

“What happened to Mir-Amat?”

Kantor looked off into the distance, idly noting the fingers of Rihos’ light working its way through the cracks of the shutters.

“Only Narsen knows. The other gods think he died in the explosion.”

Kantor sat, looking at the play of light and shadow on the ground, long after the children had gone out to play.

“And maybe,” he whispered to himself, “Mir-Amat roams the world trying to find ways make up for the wrong he has done…the selfish brat he was.” He drew his remaining hand over the moisture in his eyes.

“I’m sorry...Mother.”

"Ten months."

Blue shot Rusty a nasty look and continued the daily trek to their office without replying. Rusty shook her head as she lengthened her stride to match her friend and business partner.

"You've never waited ten months to administer the test before."

The hydraulics in Blue's arm hissed as she clenched her fist. "The plans will be where I left them."

"You still owe me one hundred dollars from the last time."

"Ian's different. He's been locking up for about two months now without a problem."

Rusty snorted. "Ian's pretty."

Blue stopped and tilted her head to meet her eyes. "Are you saying I'm shallow enough to put our company in danger for a pretty face?" Rusty bit her lip, realizing she'd pushed too far. When Blue took that mild tone even hardened gangsters ran for cover.

"Ian has the best damn brain on the island and a knack for design that rivals my own. That makes him a valuable asset."

"If we can trust him."

Blue nodded, and continued towards their office. "Agreed."

They made the rest of the trip in tense silence. Rusty was worried. Ian's skill with the sentient ores of their island was as good as Blue's, and they usually agreed to be shaped to his will with no fuss, but it also made him dangerous. No one else at Machine Inc. had the ability to reverse-engineer their designs, and he wouldn't be the first spy that their business rivals had tried to place within their ranks. He was also damn hard to dislike.

That made the empty desk where Blue had left the experimental design for the lighter artificial arm even harder to face. Rusty didn't even have the heart to say "I told you so."

Blue's face was set as she strode towards Ian's former workroom. "He might have left clues where..." She stopped short at the sound of the snores from the direction of the worktable. Ian's massive frame was sleeping at the table, the precious plans cradled protectively in the crook of his arm.

"He stayed here on guard all night?" Rusty whispered.

Blue gently shoved her out of the room, her grey eyes shimmering with triumph.

"Hush, you'll wake our new President of Research and Development." Her smile turned predatory. "I'll take my five hundred dollars now."

Our nation right now is coming to grips with the death of one of our former presidents and prime ministers, ANR Robinson. He was our Prime Minister during the 1990 coup attempt. While being held hostage with most of the government the Jamaat ordered him to tell the army to stand down.

Instead he told the army "Attack with full force." They beat him and shot him in the leg for his defiance.

I may not have always liked his decisions, but I've always admired his bravery and respected him as a person.

This was my punishment, young hero, for being on the wrong side of the war that sent one brother to Tartarus and left me estranged from the others.

What Zeus never understood is that it was my choice to accept. If I were evil, I'd have let go of the heavens, destroying everything, myself included, when Zeus punished my brother for bringing fire to you, Prometheus' greatest creation. I choose to keep the earth and sky, Gaia and Uranus apart so that mankind can live. I still love my brother, even though we didn't agree, and my heart ached when Gaia told me how Zeus tortured him for helping your kind.

I admit...I am tired, and sometimes the temptation to lay down the weight is great. I have passed centuries looking at the dance of the celestial bodies, learning their secrets and teaching them to all who seek the knowledge of the heavens. I taught men how to find their way to distant lands by the guidance of the stars, and have seen their adventures as they slowly filled more and more of the blank areas on their maps...but these are only temporary distractions from the ache in my back.

I was weak when I tried to trick your half-brother Heracles into taking my burden. Perseus...you who have never lost that ability to move cannot imagine the intoxication of being able to stand up straight, to enjoy walking. It was for the best that Heracles managed to escape, he would never have had the patience to do my duty for so long. He also freed Prometheus from his torment and for that alone I hold him no malice.

Yes, being free, it was rather like flying after being earthbound all your life...you do understand. Since my taste of freedom, it has been harder for me to keep true to my choice, and I am afraid that one day I will once again give into weakness. What will happen when the world has no more secrets? If I can no longer share in the joy and excitement of mankind's discoveries, all I will have left to contemplate is this weight on my shoulders. I have no fondness for your father or the rest of the gods and would not weep to see them gone, but the rest of the world, the heavens...I cannot bear the thought of the chaos, yet I don't know how much longer I can endure. I am afraid of myself, can you imagine?

This is why I wish to ask you one favour, before you leave.

I know what you carry, hidden in your satchel. The head of the gorgon.

I, Atlas, beg you, Perseus son of Zeus, to give me the means never to be weak again.

Free me as Heracles freed my brother. Let me gaze into Medusa's eyes, and become one with the earth I stand on.